'-'Q nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;-L ar p C(mc{

Elrington and Bosworth Professor of Anglo-Saxon in the University of Cambridge andnbsp;Fellow of Clare College

IL HEROIC POETRY. THE BYLINY . nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.

299

309

� 343

360

IN the first volume of this work we attempted a survey of the ancient literatures of Europe, in so far as they appear to be of independentnbsp;(native) growth. In the present volume we complete our survey fornbsp;Europe by an examination of two of the modern oral literatures, andnbsp;then pass on to an examination of two of the ancient literatures of thenbsp;East. The next�and final�volume will be occupied with an examination of certain modern oral literatures from Asia, Africa and thenbsp;Pacific, and with a summary of the results of the whole survey.

The examination follows in general the same lines as in Vol. i; but each literature is now treated separately. The same plan will be followednbsp;in Vol. III. This difference of treatment is necessitated by the fact thatnbsp;the two authors are not alike familiar with the whole of the material,nbsp;as was the case in Vol. i. In the two later volumes the literatures arenbsp;distributed between us.

In the introductory chapter of Vol. i (p. 4) it was pointed out that a comprehensive survey of the medieval and modern oral literatures ofnbsp;Europe was out of the question. A selection had to be made, and fornbsp;the reasons given (ibid.} our choice fell upon Russian and Yugoslav.nbsp;These are the fullest and most varied of the modern oral literaturesnbsp;known to us. Moreover they have maintained their vitality to a certainnbsp;extent down to our own times, and consequently supply abundantnbsp;evidence as to the way in which an unwritten literature is preserved andnbsp;cultivated. At the same time we were naturally influenced by the factnbsp;that we had already some knowledge of these literatures. For somenbsp;time before we undertook this work we had come to realise the importance of the Russian and Yugoslav material for the study of heroicnbsp;poetry, and consequently had paid a good deal of attention to it. Thisnbsp;made it possible for us to treat the literatures in a way which we couldnbsp;not have done, if we had had no previous knowledge of them.

We realise that in making this choice we have laid ourselves open to criticism. The Russian and Yugoslav languages are rather closelynbsp;related; and the diction of oral literature in both has a good deal innbsp;common. Moreover both literatures have been subject to similar ecclesiastical influences; and in certain genres further affinities can benbsp;traced, even in relation to secular subjects. But these common elementsnbsp;must not be overestimated. In narrative poetry�or at least heroic

narrative poetry�which is the most highly developed genre in both literatures, they are virtually wanting. The principles of metre too arenbsp;wholly different. And in any case the considerations pointed out abovenbsp;seem to us to outweigh the disadvantages arising from these affinities.�

The ancient literatures discussed in Vol. i date from times when written literature was a more or less recent innovation; the earliestnbsp;works, at least in Greek and Norse, were doubtless composed before itnbsp;existed. In Russia and Yugoslavia on the other hand written literaturenbsp;�of foreign (ecclesiastical) origin, but in a language not very differentnbsp;from the vernaculars�had been cultivated for centuries before thenbsp;time of the earliest oral literature which we can trace. It may naturallynbsp;be expected therefore that the influence of written literature will benbsp;stronger than in the ancient literatures.

This influence is most clearly perceptible on the negative side. Oral literature in Russia and Yugoslavia is practically limited to literature ofnbsp;entertainment and literature of celebration (e.g. wedding and funeralnbsp;poetry). Literature of thought, whether relating to the past or to thenbsp;observation of nature or general philosophy, is very poorly represented.nbsp;Creations of native mythology are hardly to be found, except in thenbsp;Yugoslav �Vila of the Mountain�, who, curiously enough, maintainednbsp;her position down to the end. Even stories of � the wise ��wizards,

� We should have liked to include English ballad poetry in our survey. This contains without doubt a large amount of material, varied in character, which isnbsp;valuable for the study of oral literature. Thus, heroic poetry is well represented innbsp;the Border ballads, which supply interesting analogies to Yugoslav heroic poetrynbsp;of the later periods (cf. p. 325 ff.)�analogies due doubtless to the prevalence ofnbsp;similar political conditions�while the transition from heroic to �post-heroic� maynbsp;be illustrated by other ballads, from Scotland and the north of England. Literaturenbsp;of thought is hardly to be found, except in riddle ballads; but these, though theynbsp;are seldom or never of native origin, furnish interesting parallels to the riddlenbsp;catalogues noticed in this volume (pp. 212 f., 410, 560 f.). For the study of variantsnbsp;ballads afford abundant material. But the subject cannot be treated adequately exceptnbsp;by specialists, owing partly to the immense amount of documentary evidence whichnbsp;has to be taken into account, and partly to the difficulty of distinguishing betweennbsp;native and foreign (international) ballads. The latter, apart from a few theologicalnbsp;pieces, belong properly to the �unspecified� (timeless-nameless) category; but innbsp;this country they have often adopted English names, as in �King John and thenbsp;Bishop �. On the other hand there may be many ballads of native origin which havenbsp;lost most of their names and perhaps borrowed motifs from foreign ballads.

In the summary of our survey, which will be included in Vol. iii, we shall refer occasionally for illustration to ballads which are clearly of English origin; and thenbsp;volume will also include a note explaining our classification of these. But, for thenbsp;reasons given above, we dare not undertake a comprehensive treatment of thenbsp;subject.

seers and sages, other than Christian saints�seem to be extremely rare. The literature of thought as a whole is surrendered to written literature,nbsp;i.e. to ecclesiastical learning.

On the positive side the influence of written literature may be seen in stories of saints�which are apparently more frequent in Russia thannbsp;in Yugoslavia. Otherwise this influence is in general not very obvious.nbsp;Religious formulae, which are derived ultimately from ecclesiasticalnbsp;literature, are of common occurrence in oral poetry; but the poems as anbsp;whole usually show little trace of this influence, especially in Yugoslavia.nbsp;Some scholars hold that Russian heroic poems relating to early timesnbsp;derive their subjects from chronicles; but we have not met with anynbsp;convincing evidence in support of this view. It would seem rather that,nbsp;just as in Ireland, Wales and Germany, chronicles not unfrequentlynbsp;show the influence of heroic poetry.

Some scholars also hold that literary influence from the West is to be found in both Russian and Yugoslav oral poetry; but here again thenbsp;evidence is in general far from convincing. The influence of thenbsp;Renaissance is perceptible in some poems from the Adriatic coast; butnbsp;it is of an indirect character and not very marked. In Novgorod Westernnbsp;influence may have been felt at an earlier date, and possibly to a greaternbsp;extent. Moreover throughout both Russia and Yugoslavia modernnbsp;folktales and folksongs have borrowed motifs from the West, as fromnbsp;other quarters. But we see no reason for accepting the view thatnbsp;Russian or Yugoslav heroic poetry derives its inspiration from Westernnbsp;romances.

According to our view, apart from the ecclesiastical element and a not inconsiderable element in folksongs, Russian and Yugoslav oralnbsp;poetry represents an earlier phase of literature than the romances ofnbsp;the West. In modern times its analogies are to be found eastwards, asnbsp;we shall see in the next volume. Its closest Western analogies are tonbsp;be found in the ancient literatures treated in Vol. i. But these belong tonbsp;the past. The medieval poetry which took their place sometimes preserved themes from the earlier phase. But this poetry was not purelynbsp;oral;' and its form universally, and its subjects usually, represent a

� Medieval romances, at least as a rule, cannot properly be regarded as oral literature. Usually they seem to have been written by their authors, although atnbsp;first they were doubtless intended for recitation, perhaps from memory, rather thannbsp;for a reading public. Ballads on the other hand do in general belong to oral literature, though diey are sometimes derived from written sources. This is true even ofnbsp;the remote Faroes; cf. Kershaw, Stories and Ballads of the Far Past,^. i6�f. Thenbsp;ballads peculiar to this country (cf. p. x, note), as also those which are peculiar to

revolution, due to the influence of written literature. In literature, as in civilisation generally, the east of Europe has lagged behind the west.

As we have remarked above, heroic narrative poetry is on the whole the most important genre in both Russian and Yugoslav oral literature.nbsp;In the extent and variety of this no other oral literature known to us cannbsp;compare with either of the two. In Yugoslavia the history of annbsp;original creative poetry of this kind can be traced back, more or lessnbsp;continuously, for some four or five centuries. Moreover the abundancenbsp;of variants and the fullness of information obtained from both countriesnbsp;as to the procedure and technique of the minstrels (or reciters) are of thenbsp;utmost value for the general study of this class of literature.

It may be added here that oral literature as a whole was most intimately connected with the intellectual life of both peoples. Until recent times it was the only form of literature or of intellectual activitynbsp;known to the overwhelming majority of the population. What wenbsp;think of as poetry of entertainment in reality served various othernbsp;purposes also, e.g. that of political propaganda. It must be regarded asnbsp;the Russian (or Yugoslav) counterpart, not merely of the folksongs andnbsp;ballads, but also of the whole written literature, of the Western peoples.nbsp;Until recently written literature in both countries was an exotic product, with a very limited range of circulation.

We have made no attempt at an exhaustive survey of the material. In view of its extent indeed such an attempt would hardly be practicable.nbsp;Many of the collections and also many works bearing upon the subjectsnbsp;have been inaccessible to us.' We hope, however, that what we havenbsp;done will be sufficient to give the reader at least a general conspectusnbsp;of the material.� So far as we are aware, no such survey has beennbsp;attempted in English before for either of the two literatures.

The whole of the Russian material has been treated from the original texts. In the Yugoslav use has been made of English�occasionally alsonbsp;of German�translations, where such were available. But these covernbsp;only a small fraction�perhaps one fifth or sixth�of the materialnbsp;Denmark or other countries, afford some interesting analogies to the literatures wenbsp;have discussed; but the very large �international� element�the affinities of whichnbsp;lie with folktales�renders this subject difficult, as we have noted.

' It is much to be regretted that so few books relating to these subjects have found their way into English libraries. We have had to buy nearly every book�nbsp;including the collections�that we have used, except a few which have kindly beennbsp;lent to us; and Russian books are not always easy to obtain.

� Mohammedan Yugoslav poetry is not represented so fully as we could have wished.

treated? References are given in each case to the translations which have been used. No translations in other languages have been accessiblenbsp;to us.

The translations which we have given from both languages are our own throughout, except in one or two passages where the originalsnbsp;were inaccessible. We do not profess to be experts in these languages,nbsp;and have had no special facilities for learning them. Incidental inaccuracies may therefore be expected; but it is hoped that these will notnbsp;seriously affect the interpretation of the texts, or give an erroneousnbsp;impression as to their character.

The ancient Oriental literatures which occupy the latter part of this volume show in several respects a striking contrast to those which wenbsp;have been discussing. Literature of entertainment�in particular heroicnbsp;poetry or saga�is by no means wanting; but on the whole it is definitely of secondary interest in both cases. The chief interest in bothnbsp;lies in the literature of thought, especially perhaps on the mantic side.nbsp;Such literature was not, as in Europe, displaced by a foreign writtennbsp;literature; it appears to have developed freely on its own lines.

Oriental scholars will doubtless be of opinion that work of this kind should not have been undertaken, except by specialists. Our reply tonbsp;this criticism is that in such a survey as ours the ancient literatures ofnbsp;the East cannot be ignored without loss to the subject as a whole. Wenbsp;are writing not for Orientalists,� but for readers interested in comparative literature; and our object is of course not to propose newnbsp;interpretations of these ancient literatures, but to bring their evidencenbsp;to bear upon the general history of literature.

At present it is the prevailing fashion in works of this kind to treat the literature�as also the history, etc.�of various peoples in a seriesnbsp;of volumes or chapters, each of which is entrusted to a specialist. Thisnbsp;plan has the obvious advantage that by it one obtains as good annbsp;account as can be got of each literature within its own limits. It has,

� It is remarkable that the very interesting collections of poems preserved in MSS. of the eighteenth century and earlier seem to have been almost entirelynbsp;neglected by English scholars.

� Parts I and II are intended for Orientalists, Parts III and IV for Slavists, all four Parts for Hellenists, Celtists and Teutonists.

As we are not writing for Orientalists, we have generally avoided the use of diacritical marks, except for the length of vowels in Indian names. In Part IV wenbsp;have followed the usage of the English Bible, except that we write �Jehovah� fornbsp;� the Lord �. This form of the name, though doubtless incorrect, is probably morenbsp;widely known than Jahweh or Yahweh.

however, the disadvantage that it does not bring to light so clearly as might be wished the parallels and differences between one literaturenbsp;and another. We believe that for comparative purposes there is room fornbsp;accounts of literature written with this as their primary object, bynbsp;students who are not specialists in this or that literature, but whosenbsp;interest is distributed over a considerable number of literatures, ornbsp;rather over literature in general. The defects which such a plan inevitably involves in the treatment of the literatures individually may,nbsp;we think, be counterbalanced to some extent by the observation of thenbsp;presence or absence of features common to various literatures.

Early Indian literature is of supreme importance for the study of oral tradition. Some difference of opinion prevails as to the date at which itnbsp;began to be written down; but there can be no doubt that by this timenbsp;an extensive and varied literature had long been in existence. Writingnbsp;indeed seems to have played a comparatively unimportant part in thenbsp;history of this literature�a feature which, among many others, may benbsp;commended to the attention of students of European literature. Thenbsp;decline of interest in the ancient literatures of the East is a fact which isnbsp;in our opinion much to be deplored.

It may be observed here that much diversity seems to have prevailed in the character of Indian oral tradition. Sometimes it takes the formnbsp;of strict (verbal) memorisation; sometimes again it appears to havenbsp;been as free as that of the Russians or the Yugoslavs.

We venture to think, however, not only that the ancient literatures of the East may throw light on the early history of literature in Europe,nbsp;but also that in their turn they may themselves receive some light fromnbsp;the study of the latter. We cannot doubt that the study of early Norsenbsp;literature is able to contribute materially to the explanation of Hebrewnbsp;literature�especially in the use of saga, the nature of which seems notnbsp;to have been fully appreciated by Hebrew scholars.

In Part III translations have been used throughout; the original texts have been consulted only where the actual wording was of importance. The translations given are our own, except in a few cases,nbsp;where it is otherwise stated. We do not pretend to be experts in thenbsp;language, but hope that they are substantially correct. In Part IV wenbsp;have used the Revised Version of the Old Testament throughout. Ournbsp;knowledge of the Hebrew language is negligible.

We may repeat here what we said in the Preface to Vol. i, that we have made no attempt to consult the voluminous modem literaturenbsp;bearing upon these subjects. If we had done so, we should doubtless

have avoided many errors and inaccuracies, and our work, so far as it went, would have profited greatly thereby; but it would never have seennbsp;the light. As in the preparation of Vol. i, we have read some booksnbsp;which happen to have come in our way; and to some of these we refernbsp;occasionally.

In conclusion we must express our indebtedness to Professor E. J. Rapson for allowing us to quote the passage printed on p. 617 and tonbsp;consult him on several questions, especially relating to the Pur�nas;nbsp;to Professor A. Mazon for sending us copies of important articles, ofnbsp;which we should not otherwise have known (cf. p. 456), and fornbsp;allowing us to quote the passages printed on p. 247 f.; to Professornbsp;E. H. Minns and to Mrs V. Scott-Gatty for the loan of books; to Mrnbsp;N. G. L. Hammond, Fellow of Clare College, for bringing to our noticenbsp;an important account of Albanian oral poetry (cf. p. 455 f.); to thenbsp;Editors of the Slavische Rundschau for permission to translate thenbsp;passage printed on p. 241 ff., below. Above all we are indebted tonbsp;Dr C. E. Wright of the Department of MSS., British Museum, whonbsp;has most kindly read through the whole volume in proof and thereby,nbsp;as in Vol. i, saved us from many oversights and obscurities. To thenbsp;University Library and its staff we are under the same obligations asnbsp;in the past, especially in the preparation of Parts III and IV. To thenbsp;Syndics of the Cambridge University Press, and also to the staff�nbsp;including Mr E. H. Taylor, who has prepared the Index�we must repeatnbsp;the thanks which we expressed in the Preface to the previous volume.

A list of Addenda et Corrigenda for Vols, i and ii will be given in Vol. HI. We may take this opportunity, however, of calling attentionnbsp;to certain corrections in the present volume:

P. 22, 1. 33, and p. 52, note i. For �harp� read �zither�. In the gusli, as in a zither, the sounding-board is parallel to the strings, not at a right angle to them, asnbsp;in a harp. The Yugoslav gusle is a stringed instrument of quite different character;nbsp;cf. p. 303, note 2.

P. 252,1. 17. Read �.. .to his son, and also to his grandson, Terenti levlev�.

Note. In this volume reference will be made from time to time to certain types of literature which were defined in Vol. i (pp. 28, 42, 60, etc.).nbsp;It will be convenient therefore to repeat these definitions here. Type A:nbsp;narrative poetry or saga, intended for entertainment. Type B: poetrynbsp;(very rarely prose) in the form of speeches in character. Type C: poetrynbsp;or prose intended for instruction. Type D : poetry (seldom prose) ofnbsp;celebration or appeal, especially panegyrics, elegies, hymns, prayers andnbsp;exhortations. Type E: personal poetry (very rarely prose) relating to thenbsp;author himself and his surroundings. These types apply only to literaturenbsp;relating to persons, not to impersonal literature.

U S SIA is rich in the possession of a large body of poetry which is still carried on by oral tradition. Traditional prose narrativenbsp;is also a living form, but the nature and extent of the cultivationnbsp;of saga have never received as much attention from collectors ornbsp;scholars as the poetry. We shall therefore not be in a position to treatnbsp;of the history or distribution of the prose with anything like the samenbsp;fullness. The available material is much less, and even of the collectionsnbsp;and critical material which are available in Russia very little has beennbsp;accessible to us. The traditional oral poetry, on the other hand, hadnbsp;aroused a certain amount of interest in the west before the Russiannbsp;Revolution of 1917, and a number of collections had found their waynbsp;into English libraries, both public and private.

The oral literature which we propose to consider in this chapter has been collected in the main from Great Russia and Siberia. Rich collections of oral poetry have also been made from Little Russia. These,nbsp;however, are in a different language, and the epic poetry of Littlenbsp;Russia has a different history. The lyrical poetry of Little Russia is anbsp;wholly distinct body, differing fundamentally in subjects and in traditional form, metre, and diction from that of Great Russia. The two areasnbsp;are therefore quite distinct from one another,as regards literary tradition, and would require separate treatment. We have selected Greatnbsp;Russia as being the area offering on the whole the richer field of study,nbsp;and a body of literature of which the narrative portion at least has anbsp;much longer and more interesting history.

The oral narrative poems of Russia which are concerned primarily with secular subjects are called byliny (sing, bylinab)^ or stariny (sing.nbsp;starina). The word bylina is said to be derived from the past participialnbsp;form (4//) of the verb byt^ �to be�, and to signify �that which has been�,nbsp;�past occurrences�. The term is, however, commonly applied also tonbsp;poems celebrating contemporary events, and to folk-songs which arenbsp;narrative in form and composed in the metre and diction of the byliny.nbsp;According to Professor Mazon^ the word was first applied to the oral

narrative poetry of Russia by Sakharov, who misunderstood the opening passage of the Slovo o Polky Igorev�, in which the word bylinynbsp;bylinamquot;) occurs�probably with reference, not to poems, but tonbsp;�events of past times�, �true histories�. Indeed it is commonly stated�nbsp;that the only term in use among the singers on Lake Onega in thenbsp;former Government of Olonets is stariny, starinki, � stories of long ago �nbsp;{stary, � old�). Rybnikov, however, represents the people of this regionnbsp;as using the word byliny commonly,^ and we have therefore venturednbsp;to retain the term throughout this Part, the more so as it is nownbsp;generally familiar and has gained a wider currency in critical literaturenbsp;than stariny.

In addition to the byliny, or stariny, a body of oral narrative poetry is also current in northern Russia which is chiefly devoted to religiousnbsp;subjects. These poems are known as stikhi,^ �poems�, �poetry� (sing.nbsp;stikh, lit. �verse�, �stave�). They relate principally to the Gospel stories,nbsp;and to Biblical and Apocryphal stories generally, to lives of saints, andnbsp;to religious legends of both Greek and native Russian origin. Thenbsp;subjects of the stikhi are derived in the main ultimately from books. Thenbsp;poems have, however, had a long life in oral circulation, quite divorcednbsp;from written literature, and many versions show wide variants from anynbsp;parallel form of the narratives, exactly as we should expect to find innbsp;oral tradition. These songs are sung by groups of itinerant peasants,nbsp;known today as kal�kiperekhot^e. (lit. �itinerant cripples�). The singersnbsp;are generally cripples, the great majority being blind, so that thenbsp;modern Russian word kal�ka, �cripple�, has been generally substitutednbsp;for the archaic kalika, originally a different word, meaning �pilgrim�,nbsp;�itinerant begging singer of religious songs�. Rybnikov generally retains the older form, but modern writers, such as Speranski, generallynbsp;adopt the term kal�ki as being the one more familiar.

The Western student is not wholly without guidance in beginning a study of the oral narrative poetry of Great Russia. Rambaud�s Frenchnbsp;work on the subject. La Russie �pique, is an admirable and delightfullynbsp;written survey of the field, and alfliough published as early as 1876, soonnbsp;after the appearance of the first great collections, it still remains thenbsp;standard work on the subject. It contains an admirably selected series ofnbsp;summaries and translations within the text. Three years after the ap-

3 For an account of these stikhi see Bezsonov, iv. p. iff.; Speranski, R.U.S. p. 358 ff.

5 pearance of Rambaud�s work, the German scholar Wollner publishednbsp;his Untersuchungen �ber die Volksepik der Grossrussen, which containsnbsp;useful summaries of the byliny. Among the earliest translations innbsp;English are the small selection contained in Talvi�s Historical View ofnbsp;the Languages and Literature of the Slavonic Nations, and in Morfill�snbsp;Slavonic Literature. Hapgood�s Epic Songs of Russia, first published innbsp;1886, and again in 1915, consists of translations of conflate texts of anbsp;selection of byliny from the oldest cycles, and contains a brief introduction relating to their literary history. In 1932 a volume of Englishnbsp;translations of byliny of all periods was published by N. K. Chadwick,nbsp;also with a critical introduction. Translations of a small number ofnbsp;byliny relating to the historical period have been published by Eisner innbsp;Volkslieder der Slawen (Leipzig, 1926). In 1931 L. A. Magnus publishednbsp;a critical account of this poetry, entitled The Heroic Ballads of Russia.nbsp;Critical accounts of the narrative poetry as a whole, and also of individual poems and singers (skafteli, sing, skafitel, lit. � a reciter �), havenbsp;appeared from time to time in periodicals, such as Russkaya Mysl,nbsp;Archiv f�r slav�ische Philologie, Slavische Rundschau, La Revue desnbsp;Etudes Slaves, The Slavonic Review, etc. A number of translationsnbsp;of individual poems have also appeared, among which we may mentionnbsp;Kate Blakey�s translations of versions of two from the Novgorodnbsp;Cycle, published in The Slavonic Review, III. 1924�5, p. 32

Oral poetry other than narrative has attracted less attention. Ralston published an interesting and very readable account. The Songs of thenbsp;Russian People, in 1872. The work contains many translations. Unlikenbsp;many of the works mentioned above, however, it relates to both Greatnbsp;and Little Russia, and contains translations from the poetry of both areas.nbsp;In 1926 Paul Eisner published his Volkslieder der Slawen, a very usefulnbsp;collection of German translations of oral poetry from a number ofnbsp;Slavonic countries, including Russia. Very little popular prose has beennbsp;translated into English. The most important collection of prose storiesnbsp;is a selection of Russian folk-tales translated by L. A. Magnus� from thenbsp;great collection of Afanasev, to which we shall refer later.

Scientific interest in Russian popular poetry is of comparatively recent date, even in Russia itself. Before the beginning of last centurynbsp;such poetry was neglected and almost unknown. The opening up ofnbsp;Russia to western influences under the stimulus of the Romantic Revivalnbsp;aroused a great interest in popular poetry among Russian men of lettersnbsp;� Fuller details of the editions cited above will be found in the List of Abbreviations at the conclusion of this Part.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� See List of Abbreviations.

such as Pushkin and Lermontov, and later, among the more intellectual of the official classes; and there can be no doubt that Percy�s Reliquesnbsp;and Macpherson�s Ossian acted as strong incentives to the collection ofnbsp;Russian oral literature. The scientific collection and investigation ofnbsp;oral poetry as a living form has therefore been carried on under peculiarly favourable conditions in Russia. The lower classes, backward andnbsp;illiterate, wholly untouched by the new education and culture, continuednbsp;to derive their entertainment from the old traditional forms of poetry,nbsp;while the officials and landed gentry of the more progressive type,nbsp;especially those in the neighbourhood of Moscow and St Petersburg,nbsp;acquired the literary outlook of the Romantic Revival, simultaneouslynbsp;with the scientific and critical methods which in western Europe followednbsp;on the newly awakened interest in popular poetry only after an interval.nbsp;Owing to these fortunate circumstances the great Russian collectionsnbsp;offer for our purposes a peculiarly valuable field of research. We shallnbsp;give some account of the precise circumstances under which thesenbsp;collections were made, and the manner in which oral tradition wasnbsp;carried on in northern Russia, in the chapter on �Recitation andnbsp;Composition�.

Some few MS. collections of popular poetry had already been made before the great collections of last century; but these were made for thenbsp;most part by individuals for their own use, and not for publication. Itnbsp;is interesting to note that the earliest known collection was made by annbsp;Englishman, Richard James, a graduate of Oxford, who in 1619, whilenbsp;serving as chaplain to the English merchants in Moscow, wrote down,nbsp;or induced a friend to write down for him, six poems on contemporarynbsp;events, of the kind known today as by liny. These poems were written onnbsp;a few sheets put loosely into a note book, which is preserved in thenbsp;Bodleian Library at Oxford.� They are, as Bezsonov observes,� particularly interesting as affording rare examples of Russian popular poetrynbsp;composed contemporaneously with the events celebrated, and recordednbsp;during the earliest stages of its recitation in the place where it was composed, before it had suffered deterioration from oral transmission.nbsp;Later in the same century (1688) a further small collection of bylinynbsp;treating of contemporary events was made; but both this collection andnbsp;that of James remained unpublished till long after the more recentnbsp;collections had seen the light.

� They have been published by the St Petersburg Academy, and by Bezsonov in his edition of the collections made by Kir�evski and others. See his edition ofnbsp;Kir�evski�s collection, Vii. p. 58.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Kir�evski, loc. cit.

During the eighteenth century a collection of byliny was made by a certain Kirsha Danilov from the workers connected with the Demidovnbsp;mines in the former Government of Perm, in the neighbourhood of thenbsp;Urals. It is a matter for regret that little is known of Kirsha himself.nbsp;He has been called the true originator of the modem interest in traditional oral narrative poetry. It is possible that recent research in Russianbsp;may have succeeded in unearthing details relating to him which have notnbsp;been accessible to us. In the absence of further information, however,nbsp;we see no reason to regard his collection as differing, either in object ornbsp;scope, from those which were occasionally made last century by the fewnbsp;singers of byliny who were able to write, and who wrote down theirnbsp;collections for their own personal use; and it is not impossible thatnbsp;Kirsha�s object in making his collection was similarly practical.

A selection of twenty-five poems from Danilov�s MS. was published in 1804 by Yakubovich under the title Les anciennes Po�sies russes,nbsp;which created considerable interest. In 1818 the famous Russian editornbsp;Kalaidovich published a more complete edition from the same collection,nbsp;comprising sixty poems. In 1819 a collection of byliny publishednbsp;anonymously at Leipzig, apparently the work of a German resident innbsp;Russia, under the title F�rst TFladimir und dessen Tafelrunde, altrussische Heldenlieder. The collection is of especial interest as containing,nbsp;besides German translations of some of Kirsha Danilov�s byliny, somenbsp;additional pieces of which the Russian originals have not since beennbsp;found.�

The interest of the Russian public was now thoroughly aroused, and from the middle of last century onwards many thousands of poems werenbsp;recorded from the recitation of peasants in various parts of Russia, morenbsp;especially the north. From 1852-1856 M. Sr�znevski edited narrativenbsp;poems or byliny as they were still sung in the provinces of Olonets,nbsp;Tomsk, and Archangel. The first of the important collections of oralnbsp;poetry of modern times was made by Rybnikov in 1859 and i860 amongnbsp;the peasants of Olonets on the shores of Lake Onega. This collectionnbsp;was published in four volumes during the years 1861-1867.�

The wealth and range of Rybnikov�s collection created so much interest that in 1871 Gilferding set out to the same region in the hope of

� The original edition is very scarce. A new edition was edited by Gruzinski in three volumes at Moscow in 1909, under the title P�sni Sohrann�a P.N.Rybnikovym,nbsp;�Songs collected by P. N. Rybnikov�. Our references are to Gruzinski�s editionnbsp;throughout.

supplementing Rybnikov�s work. He penetrated, as a matter of fact, much farther to the north, and into more inaccessible regions thannbsp;Rybnikov had done, and was able to add much valuable new material,nbsp;which was afterwards published in three large volumes.� Moreovernbsp;Gilferding also interviewed many of the same singers whom Rybnikovnbsp;had heard, and again recorded their byliny. A comparison of the variantnbsp;versions thus obtained affords much valuable material for the study of thenbsp;composition and recitation of oral poetry and the circumstances of oralnbsp;transmission.

While Rybnikov was making his researches in person among the peasants in the neighbourhood of Lake Onega, Kir�evski was publishing byliny collected from all over Great Russia, from Archangel tonbsp;Moscow, from Novgorod to Siberia. Some of the byliny in his collection had already been published from Kirsha Danilov�s MS. Othersnbsp;were obtained from albums and private MS. collections. While many ofnbsp;them relate to ancient times, and are identical with, or variants of thosenbsp;of Rybnikov and Gilferding, the majority relate to more recent times.nbsp;It is, in fact, the most representative collection of Russian byliny whichnbsp;has appeared. It was first published at Moscow in four parts, during thenbsp;years 1860-1862.�

Each of these three great collections has a special interest of its own. Rybnikov, as a pioneer collector of the narrative poetry relating to thenbsp;Russian Heroic Age, will always hold the first place. His work is alsonbsp;extremely valuable for the collection of lyrics and ceremonial songsnbsp;which it contains, and for the large amount of interesting informationnbsp;which he recorded relating to the singers themselves, both men andnbsp;women, from whose recitation he noted down his texts. Gilferding�s isnbsp;the most comprehensive collection of byliny relating to Heroic Russianbsp;which we possess, affording, as it does, an enormous number of narratives and variant versions. Kireevski�s collection is the most interesting

� His collection was published at St Petersburg in 1875 under the title One:^hsk^a Byliny ^apisann�a A. F. Gilferdingom, � Byliny of Onega recorded by A. F. Gilferding�. A new edition appeared, also at St Petersburg, and in three volumes, innbsp;1894 under the same title. Our references throughout this Part are to the latternbsp;edition.

� Kir�evski�s collection was published at Moscow by P. A. Bezsonov in i860 under the title Pesni Sohrannya P. V. Kir�evskim. Bezsonov also included in thenbsp;edition valuable supplementary and editorial matter. The edition was afterwardsnbsp;reprinted without change by Bezsonov in ten parts at Moscow during the yearsnbsp;1868-1874 under the same title. This enlarged edition is referred to in this volumenbsp;as Kir�evski.

from both a geographical and an historical point of view. Not only does it contain, as we have said, byliny recorded from singers scattered overnbsp;the whole Great Russian world and many parts of Siberia, but thenbsp;subjects are drawn from all periods of Russian history. Rybnikov andnbsp;Gilferding each obtained some examples of poems relating to modernnbsp;times, but Kir�evski was the first to show the real wealth of popularnbsp;poetry relating to historical events. In his volumes we have, as it were,nbsp;the oral records of Russian history composed from the viewpoint of thenbsp;unlettered classes, which supply a popular supplement to the more professional forms of historical record.

From the same period as Rybnikov�s P�sni we have the great collection oistikhi, or oral religious poems, published by P. Bezsonov in three volumes at Moscow in 1860-1864, under the title Kal�ki Perekho^hie. Thenbsp;collection represents the repertoire of the kal�ki, the itinerant groups ofnbsp;peasant singers of religious songs, to whom reference has already beennbsp;made. In the past stikhi have attracted less attention than byliny, but innbsp;recent years they have been made the subject of special study bynbsp;Speranski and others. The Dukhobors, and other backward religiousnbsp;sects of Russia have also preserved much traditional oral religious poetrynbsp;from the past, which promises to throw interesting light on the historynbsp;of Russian religious thought, but which is at present very little known,nbsp;even in Russia itself.^

In addition to these collections of traditional verse, chiefly of a narrative character, large collections of lyrics have also been made fromnbsp;the same area�indeed from all parts of the Russian Empire. With thenbsp;rich collections from Little Russia we are not concerned here. Amongnbsp;pioneers in folk-song collecting in Great Russia we must again mentionnbsp;Rybnikov himself, whose great collection of P�sni contains manynbsp;wedding, funeral and personal songs. In the same district Barsov madenbsp;an important collection of funeral songs which he published at Moscownbsp;in 1872.�

Since the publication of the great collections already mentioned, a number of others have appeared from time to time of almost equalnbsp;interest and importance.3 These for the most part contain collections

� A valuable though brief account of the whole subject is given by Speranski, R.U.S. p. 358 if.

� See List of Abbreviations. For a fuller list the reader is referred to the bibliography appended to Ralston�s Songs, p. 437 if.

3 For an outline of the history of the collections, and an account of their character, and the areas from which they have been obtained, see Speranski, R.U.S. p. 3 if.nbsp;A valuable bibliography will be found at the end of the same work.

made within limited areas, and are therefore of great value, not only as adding to the number of available poems and variants, but also asnbsp;enabling us to study the local repertoires of these areas. Of specialnbsp;interest in this connection are collections of byliny. We may instancenbsp;among many others those of Markov from the shore of the White Sea,nbsp;of Grigorev from the neighbourhood of Archangel, of Onchukov fromnbsp;Pechora on the shore of the Arctic Ocean, the recent collection fromnbsp;Olonets made during the expeditions of the Sokolov brothers, thenbsp;Siberian collections of Gulyaev from Barnoul, and a number of bylinynbsp;recorded from the descendants of Russian settlers on the R. Kolyma innbsp;the north-east of Siberia, and published by V. F. Miller. Other collections have been obtained from the area around Moscow, from Samara innbsp;south-eastern Russia, from the district around Novgorod, and evennbsp;from the Caucasus. The material thus obtained has been further supplemented to some extent from reprints of texts contained in private MS.nbsp;collections, old note-books, and account-books, etc., and scattered innbsp;various journals and periodical publications, as well as from some fewnbsp;written texts contained in MSS. of the seventeenth and eighteenthnbsp;centuries.

Such collections are of the greatest value for comparative purposes, as well as for the light which they throw on the history of versions andnbsp;redactions, and, ultimately, of the byliny themselves. Indeed the fullnbsp;importance of the study of area and distribution in relation to repertoire and version is perhaps only now coming to be fully appreciated.nbsp;In general it may be said byliny have been collected� from areas wherenbsp;Russian settlers formed pioneer communities among a non-Slavonicnbsp;population during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and wherenbsp;they have lived during the intervening centuries as self-containednbsp;communities in social and political backwaters, having little or no intercourse with the more progressive centres of population. Since the originnbsp;and history of these colonies is generally fairly well known, it followsnbsp;that these local collections are invaluable for the study of the relativenbsp;chronology of the variant versions of the byliny.

Very little information has been accessible to us relating to the collecting and editing of prose narratives, and very little is known innbsp;western Europe of Russian oral prose. Many thousands of stories havenbsp;been collected from oral recitation in modern times, however, from allnbsp;parts of Great Russia. Some sagas are also contained in Russian medieval

� For an account of the geographical distribution of the byliny, see Speranski, R.U.S. p. i8i if.

MS. collections, while others have been incorporated in Chronicles and Lives of Saints. Some of these have been embodied in the histories ofnbsp;Russia by Solovev and Karamzin, where they are perhaps most easilynbsp;accessible. These �inset� sagas, related for the most part in summarynbsp;form, are not numerous. They often appear to be derived in the lastnbsp;instance from written authorities, but they bear the stamp of literaturenbsp;which has passed through a stage of oral transmission. The great storehouse of Russian prose of a purely oral character, however, is Afanasev�snbsp;Narodn�a Russk�a Sha^ki (�Russian Popular Tales�), which wasnbsp;collected during the latter half of last century. The collection containsnbsp;hundreds of folk-tales, and also a number of examples of prose sagasnbsp;relating to the early periods of Russian history and tradition. Unfortunately his notes as to the sources from which they were obtained arenbsp;very brief. The vast majority of the stories contained in his collectionnbsp;are pure folk-tales which appear to have been recorded in modern timesnbsp;from recitation. Reference has already been made to the selection fromnbsp;Afanasev�s collection which has been translated into English by L. A.nbsp;Magnus.

The poetry recited by the Russian peasants, including the byliny and the stikhi, is purely oral in character, and its history is the history of oralnbsp;tradition. The mould in which it is cast was made long ago; but thenbsp;traditional form still continues to circulate, and, to some extent, tonbsp;undergo re-creation with each fresh generation of reciters. In certainnbsp;remote districts such poetry will no doubt continue to be the popularnbsp;form of entertainment for some time to come. The stik/ii are stillnbsp;widely sung, or were until the Revolution of 1917.�' In the province ofnbsp;Irkutsk, where the byliny'^' have retained a particularly archaic form, it isnbsp;said that even today one can still hear on the banks of the River Kolymanbsp;ancient Russian songs and legends couched in diction now obsoletenbsp;in European Russia, and akin to the diction of the Slovo 0 Polkynbsp;Igorev�?

Our fullest and best evidence for the cultivation of byliny in modern times comes from the former Government of Olonets, in the neighbourhood of Lake Onega, and from the White Sea. In these districts thenbsp;largest, and, on the whole, the best collections have been made. By thenbsp;middle of last century byliny relating to the early periods of Russian

� A number of byliny recorded in this district are included by Miller in Byliny. See List of Abbreviations at the close of the present Part.

12 nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;RUSSIAN ORAL LITERATURE

history were believed to be almost extinct. Sreznevski and Rybnikov found them still flourishing in the north, especially among the singers ofnbsp;Olonets. This discovery was at first treated by the educated world withnbsp;a scepticism similar to that which greeted Macpherson�s Ossian in ournbsp;own country. Even in Olonets�the district from which the greatnbsp;majority of the byliny have been collected�the practice of singingnbsp;byliny was limited in area. Yet at Petrozavodsk in this same district, atnbsp;the time when the early collections were made, the old men related how,nbsp;fifty years earlier, it had been the custom in their little town for thenbsp;chinovniks or officials, no less than for the bourgeoisie and merchantnbsp;classes, to meet together in the evenings to listen to the singing ofnbsp;bylinykk Nowadays such poetry is restricted to the peasant class, and isnbsp;doomed to pass away wifli the spread of education. Even today, however, it is still cultivated among the people of Olonets. During thenbsp;years 1926-1928 the Sokolov brothers were able to make an importantnbsp;collection of byliny from this area, and to note down on their phonographs the tunes to which they are sung. No longer ago than Februarynbsp;1932 in this same region, Jean Porcher, under the guidance of Yurynbsp;Sokolov, was enabled to hear a number of old women singing some ofnbsp;the best known of the byliny^ and some of the greatest of all the ska^itdinbsp;are still to be found here. We do not know if fresh byliny are stillnbsp;composed on modem subjects, but we should expect this to be the casenbsp;in remote districts both in Olonets and elsewhere.3

It will be seen that Russian oral poetry is not a recent development. During the last three centuries we have continuous testimony to thenbsp;singing of byliny, and it is clear from a comparison of the poems writtennbsp;down in the early part of the seventeenth century in James�s note-book,nbsp;and those collected by Kirsha Danilov in the eighteenth century, withnbsp;those written down last century, that no change took place in the form ofnbsp;the poems during this period. When we compare the poems on contemporary events in James�s collection with poems collected during lastnbsp;century, but relating to events which took place during the seventeenthnbsp;century, we find no fundamental difference in style or treatment. Somenbsp;of the poems recorded by Rybnikov and by l�r�evski might equally

� Rybnikov, I. p. Ixxxvi. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Mazon, Bylines, p. 681.

3 Russia contains many remote pockets. Even today there are said to be communities living in the Urals who know nothing of the Soviet and have no knowledge that the tsar is not still living. (See the review by Sir J. C. Squire, � Ballads and Folk-Songs of the Russian People�, in the Daily Telegraph, August 23rd, 1932.) Suchnbsp;areas must still be rich in traditional oral poetry.

well have been recorded by James. The results of such a comparison afford strong testimony to the fidelity of oral tradition in Russia duringnbsp;the last three and a half centuries. Moreover, though byliny relating tonbsp;the last three centuries of Russian history have been collected from allnbsp;over Great Russia, they grow more and more scarce everywhere fornbsp;periods approaching our own days, while byliny relating to more remotenbsp;times are only to be found in remote areas. This chronological andnbsp;geographical distribution suggests that the byliny which relate to thenbsp;oldest periods are older, and were once far more numerous than thosenbsp;relating to modern times.

Beyond this point the antiquity of the byliny has been disputed, and a fuller discussion of the subject must therefore be left to a later chapter,nbsp;when we come to consider the question of authorship. It may be mentioned here, however, that the byliny contain a large body of narrativenbsp;relating to characters who belong to the period before the fourteenthnbsp;century, and some appear to belong to much earlier times. Some ofnbsp;these characters are known from historical sources. Further indicationsnbsp;of ancient date are to be found in the diction and in the referencesnbsp;contained in the poems themselves. These also will be discussednbsp;later.

Oral narrative prose has also been widely cultivated in Russia for some centuries, though our evidence is not so full or so valuable as fornbsp;oral poetry. Prose sagas have been written down by collectors bothnbsp;from oral recitation and from private MSS. or �albums�. All evidencenbsp;goes to indicate that these manuscript collections have been made fromnbsp;oral recitation. The authors are not known or named, and we are notnbsp;told the date, place or circumstances of composition. The stories donbsp;not appear to have for the most part any written sources. In the majoritynbsp;of instances of stories obtained by collectors from oral recitation, thenbsp;reciters�frequently the audience also�were unable to read or write.nbsp;Their intercourse with a reading public, with a few exceptions, may benbsp;regarded as negligible. There can be no doubt that the prose sagas ofnbsp;Russia, like the byliny^ have a long history behind them, and in earliernbsp;times we may be certain that they formed the basis of an appreciablenbsp;portion of the early written chronicles of the country.

Notwithstanding the vitality and longevity of oral tradition, writing has long been known and practised in Russia. It was probably notnbsp;unknown at the court of Kiev in the time of Olga, who was baptised atnbsp;Constantinople in 957. It was certainly established there when Vladimir I, the Great, and his court were baptised in 988. The language and

script employed were those of Cyril and Methodius? The language differed but little from the Russian current at the time. Written literaturenbsp;in Russia begins in the eleventh century, with the possible exception ofnbsp;one or two documents which may be earlier. It is, for the most part,nbsp;ecclesiastical; several manuscripts of the Gospels are known to havenbsp;been written in this century.

Besides Gospels, other forms of ecclesiastical literature, such as sermons and chronicles, also date from the same period. From the firstnbsp;half of the eleventh century we have the Instructions written by Lukanbsp;Zhidyata, bishop of Novgorod, for his congregation; and from a fewnbsp;years later in the same century we have the Eulogy on St Vladimir^nbsp;which is composed in Russian, and appended to a sermon by liarion whonbsp;became metropolitan of Kiev in 1050. The earliest chronicle� whichnbsp;we possess was compiled c. 1110. It has been traditionally ascribednbsp;to Nestor, a monk of the Pechersk monastery at Kiev (c. 1056-1114);nbsp;but it is now recognised that this chronicle has undoubtedly incorporated earlier written annals,3 and that the final compilation was thenbsp;work of Sylvester, Abbot of the V�dubitski Monastery of Kiev.nbsp;The Synodal transcript of the Chronicle of Novgorod�S is said to benbsp;founded on an historical compilation made by a priest named Hermannbsp;Voyata, of the Novgorod church of St James, who was appointednbsp;to his office in a.d. 1144, and who died in 1188. This compilation isnbsp;believed in its turn to be based on early ecclesiastical annals compilednbsp;at Novgorod; and, in fact, there are clear indications that chroniclenbsp;writing at Novgorod is as old as the eleventh century. 5

Writing was already used in the eleventh century to some extent for other than ecclesiastical purposes. It is at the close of this century thatnbsp;Vladimir Monomakh, Grand Prince of Kiev, is believed to have composed his Pouchenie D�tyam, �Instruction to Children�, which isnbsp;generally thought to embody a considerable amoimt of autobio-

� The �apostles of the Slavs� who converted Moravia and Hungary in the ninth century, and introduced writing. The language which they employed was a form ofnbsp;Southern Slavonic, which, in consequence of their translations, became, and hasnbsp;always remained the ecclesiastical language of the Orthodox Slavs. But thenbsp;�Glagolitic� alphabet (derived from Greek cursive) which they introduced wasnbsp;displaced about a century and a half later by an alphabet derived from the Greeknbsp;uncial, which has been in use ever since, and is erroneously called � Cyrillic�. For annbsp;account of their work, see Murko, G.�.s.L. p. 36 ff.; ih. S.L. i. ix. p. 197 if.

This transcript is so called because it is in the possession of the Synodal Library at Moscow.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 See Michell, etc., p. xxxvii f.

15 graphical matter. Earlier in this century also, in the reign of Yaroslavnbsp;the Wise, son of Vladimir I, the first codification of the Russian lawsnbsp;{Russkaya Prdvda) is believed to have taken place, though the compilation was actually continued into the twelfth century.^ They arenbsp;modelled to a considerable extent on earlier Byzantine codes,� but thenbsp;close analogy which they show to the Teutonic laws, notably those ofnbsp;the Anglo-Saxons, is very striking. They are written in the Russian vernacular, and preserved in a MS. of the Chronicle of Novgorod. Fromnbsp;the beginning of the twelfth century we have an interesting accountnbsp;by the Abbot Daniel the Palmer, of his sojourn in Jerusalem duringnbsp;Easter, and his visit to the Holy Sepulchre. There is, however, nothing tonbsp;indicate that the use of letters was at all widely understood or practisednbsp;anywhere outside the church and the monasteries for many centuries.

In spite of the paramount importance of Scandinavian influence in Russian poUtical life at the time when �Russia� first enters the pages ofnbsp;written history,3 Russian culture looks to the east rather than to thenbsp;west. From the time of her conversion to Christianity under Vladimir I, and her inclusion in the Greek Church in 988, Byzantine traditionnbsp;directed the course of Russian educated thought. A certain amount ofnbsp;western influence has left its mark on the Slavonic literature which hasnbsp;come down to us. We may point to the Slavonic translations of suchnbsp;medieval romances as those of Tristan, Lancelot, and Bevis of Hampton.^nbsp;But the schism between the eastern and the western churches, and thenbsp;preoccupation of Russia with the Tatar invasions retarded to a considerable extent the progress of Russian intellectual life for manynbsp;centuries.

This intellectual backwardness is manifest in all classes of the laity. From the thirteenth to the seventeenth century even the courts of thenbsp;Russian princes were barbarous, and the coarse and unlettered Russiannbsp;nobility afford a strong contrast to the polished and educated Polishnbsp;* Klyuchevski, p. 133.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. p. 134.

3 The great antiquity of most of the sites in the valley of the Dnepr, which were formerly believed to be of Scandinavian origin, is now well known. There can be nonbsp;doubt that the traditions pointing to the Scandinavian origin of the Rus recorded innbsp;the Ancient Chronicle were composed in the interests of the Scandinavian rulers,nbsp;as a critical reading of the text shows. Opinion is, however, divided as to thenbsp;amount of importance to be attached to the Scandinavian elements in Russia as anbsp;whole. In any case the area actually in Scandinavian occupation cannot have beennbsp;relatively very great, though Scandinavians no doubt occupied the headwaters of thenbsp;Volga and the Kama at an early date�as early, if not earlier, than the valley ofnbsp;the Dnepr. See Schr�der, G.R.M. viii (1920), p. 209; Braun, p. 150 f.

aristocracy. Of Dimitri Donskoy, Grand Prince of Moscow, who fought successfully against the Tatars at the Battle of Kulikovo in 1378,nbsp;it is frankly stated that he had little knowledge of books. Other princesnbsp;are said to have been wholly illiterate.^ On the other hand learnednbsp;ecclesiastics were numerous in medieval Russia, and their knowledge ofnbsp;letters was extremely valuable to the illiterate princes. Evidence is notnbsp;lacking to show that a certain amount of education, even in Greeknbsp;learning, was carried on orally by these ecclesiastics, and that laymen asnbsp;well as clerics profited by this oral instruction. Thus we are told ofnbsp;Cyril, bishop of Rostov, that the people used to flock together from thenbsp;neighbouring towns to listen to his instruction from holy books; andnbsp;the author of this information tells us that he himself used to be stationednbsp;in a sequestered corner of the church, and to write down the words ofnbsp;the preacher.� It is not improbable that many medieval sermons andnbsp;addresses have been similarly noted down during their delivery.

The first advance towards an educated upper class appears to have been made by Ivan III (1462-1505), whose Byzantine wife broughtnbsp;many scholars and manuscripts with her to Moscow. Ivan IV (1533-1584) was, for his time, a well-read man, and some of the letters andnbsp;memoirs of the period, notably the famous correspondence betweennbsp;Ivan himself and the nobleman Kurbski, show that a certain amount ofnbsp;intellectual activity was present among the nobility, at least in courtnbsp;circles. But education spread very slowly in the country. Even thenbsp;introduction of French culture and the culture of western Europenbsp;generally in the seventeenth century does not seem to have greatlynbsp;affected the country as a whole, apart from the large towns. In thenbsp;reign of Katharine II (1762-1796) it was apparently still exceptional fornbsp;a nobleman to be able to read and write. Her farces, as well as those ofnbsp;Griboedov and Derzhavin, are largely directed against the ignorant andnbsp;unlettered aristocracy, and readers of Aksakov will remember thenbsp;passage in which he describes his grandfather, an eighteenth-centurynbsp;landowner of the noble class in the province of Simbirsk:

�Ignorance was general among the landowners of his day, and he had received no sort of education. He could hardly read and write Russian.nbsp;But while serving in the army, and before he was promoted to thenbsp;rank of officer, he had learned the elementary rules of arithmetic, andnbsp;how to calculate on a reckoning-board, and he was fond of referring tonbsp;this, even in his old age.�3

� Solovev, col. 1305. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� tt. col. 1306.

Aksakov�s grandmother, of course, who also belonged to a noble family, could neither read nor write.

In the towns education was more advanced; but even there progress was slow. Dearth of books seems to have been the greatest drawbacknbsp;to education in the eighteenth century. At the beginning of last centurynbsp;the scholars in the high-school, afterwards the university, at Kazannbsp;were sometimes obliged to copy out every word of their text-books innbsp;manuscript.�^ The peasantry of the period were of course whollynbsp;illiterate. Even in 1872 Gilferding found that in the neighbourhood ofnbsp;Lake Onega, where the population was, to some extent, in touch withnbsp;St Petersburg, out of seventy peasants, only five could read or write.�nbsp;The two best reciters of byliny interviewed by the Sokolovs in theirnbsp;expedition to the same region in 1926-1928 were both illiterate.3

In such a country oral literature was bound to flourish and die hard, and from the eighteenth century onward we have abundant evidence ofnbsp;extensive cultivation of oral literature in Russia. Aksakov rememberednbsp;hearing in his youth the maid-servants in his grandfather�s housenbsp;at Aksakovo in the province of Ufa, singing their peasant songs at theirnbsp;spinning, or during their leisure in the evenings. He remembered, too,nbsp;being taken to see queer old-time plays, in which the actors madenbsp;strange noises, dressed and masked as animals, and acted rude comedynbsp;with dancing and poetry.4 Pushkin spent much of his time on hisnbsp;country estate, listening to the folk-lore and tales of his old nurse, whonbsp;told him stories of the rusalka, the Russian water-nymph, and sangnbsp;folk-songs to him�perhaps the bylina of Ksenya, the daughter ofnbsp;Boris Godunov, the hero of Pushkin�s greatest drama, whose familynbsp;estate was only two miles from his own home. Many of the literarynbsp;works of the period, such as Lermontov�s Cossack Cradle Song, werenbsp;clearly composed under the influence of popular poetry.

Aksakov�s Family Chronicle, to which we have already referred, is really a family saga committed to writing by�himself. He refers tonbsp;himself as �an honest chronicler of oral traditionThe history whichnbsp;he actually relates is carried back no farther than the time of his grandfather, but his statement that his grandfather � lived in the governmentnbsp;of Simbirsk on his own ancestral property, granted to his forefathers

3 Slavische Rundschau, IV (1932), p. 465 ff. Sem. Khron. p. 250 fE; Schoolboy, p. 88 ff.

by the Tsars of Muscovy�� suggests that a certain amount of family tradition had been preserved from earlier times. Elsewhere he adds thatnbsp;his grandfather was a descendant of the great Shimon. Tolstoi�s Warnbsp;and Peace is a more ambitious and elaborate work of the same form.nbsp;Though a work of fiction, Tolstoi�s �novel� is composed in the form ofnbsp;a family saga, and actually embodies many of the characters and experiences of the families of his own father and mother. With such annbsp;example of family history and family fiction before us, we can hardlynbsp;doubt that family saga, of the type with which we are familiar from earlynbsp;Iceland, was a flourishing form of oral literature in Russia down to thenbsp;latter half of last century.

All the popular poetry of Russia, and all the saga which can properly be called popular, are anonymous. The reciters are only able to givenbsp;the names of those from whom they themselves have heard them. Thenbsp;original authors in all cases are absolutely unknown. Even in rare casesnbsp;where MS. collections have been made by the reciters�a point tonbsp;which we shall return later�no authors are assigned to the poems. Wenbsp;shall see that a distinction is sometimes drawn in regard to the narrativenbsp;poems between babi stariny and the rest of the stariny, but this distinction has reference to the subjects favoured by men and women fornbsp;recitation, and not to authorship of the poems.

The literature of thought is but scantily represented in Russian oral tradition. Gnomic and didactic poetry can hardly be said to exist, andnbsp;descriptive poetry is not abundant. Mantic poetry exists,� but has notnbsp;been accessible to us. We doubt, however, if it can be very abundant.nbsp;Poetry and saga relating to heathen deities are either wholly absent, ornbsp;have been so transmuted that the divinities have become unrecognisable. The influence of the Church is no doubt responsible for this innbsp;Russia, as elsewhere, and we have seen that Christian narrative poetrynbsp;is abundantly represented. By far the largest proportion of Russiannbsp;popular poetry, however, consists of poetry relating to well-knownnbsp;heroes and historical characters, and to nameless individuals. Of thesenbsp;categories Russia offers an abundance and range which is probablynbsp;unparalleled.

� A collection of divination and conjuration formulae, ritual poetry, popular drama, etc. is contained in Vol. in of Russki Folklor, published by Y. M. Sokolov innbsp;1931 (see List of Abbreviations, s.v. Sokolov, R. F. at the end of this Part). The worknbsp;has not been accessible to us, and we are indebted for a notice of the contents tonbsp;R.�.S. XII (1932), p. 257.

The great majority of these poems are narrative in form. Even folksongs are commonly composed in the form of narrative. Poetry of Type B is not found in relation to the early periods, but makes itsnbsp;appearance in relation to poetry of the sixteenth and following centuries,nbsp;where it seems to have encroached on elegiac poetry. Type C is practically unknown with the exception of one or two examples relating tonbsp;Christian learning. Poetry of celebration and elegy is very common,nbsp;especially in the poetry of social ritual. No examples have survivednbsp;relating to early times, but the conservative character of the form showsnbsp;that it is not a new development. Personal poetry of the advancednbsp;character of the Greek examples discussed in Vol. i is unknown, thoughnbsp;personal poetry of a more or less stereotyped form is very commonnbsp;among the modern peasantry. Advanced oral saga is rare, but folk-talesnbsp;are exceedingly common.

Very little scientific work has been done on the metres of the popular poetry of Great Russia. The metre of all poetry of this kind is identicalnbsp;with that of the byliny. In modern studies of the history and provenancenbsp;of the byliny the subject is generally silently ignored. Three studies ofnbsp;metre are cited in Prof. Mazon�s Bibliography of useful works on thenbsp;byliny,^ but the first (by Kors) dates from 1897, while the third, published at Leningrad in 1925, consists of only five pages. These unfortunately have not been accessible to us. Speranski, writing in 1917,�nbsp;recognised the importance of the study of native music for the propernbsp;understanding of metre, and the insufficiency of the data relating to suchnbsp;music. Fortunately these data have since been increased by the recentnbsp;expedition of the Sokolovs to the reciters in north Russia, in the neighbourhood of Lake Onega. Their results have not as yet, however, sonbsp;far as we are aware, been made available to the general public.3

Those who have heard the byliny recited generally describe them as a kind of rhythmical chant. The lines vary to some extent in lengthnbsp;within the poem, but on the whole they tend to be composed in approximately equal length throughout. For example, we may refer to onenbsp;bylina relating to the healing of the great hero, Ilya of Murom, recordednbsp;by Kir�evski^, which is composed of long lines, while the lines of

3 Our efforts to obtain specimens of their phonograph records from Moscow have not been successful.

another Ivlina on the Tatar bashkak or tax-collector Shchel Kan Dudentevich/ are much shorter. It is interesting to note that differentnbsp;localities favour different lengths of line. Poems obtained to the eastnbsp;of Lake Onega, e.g. from the district of Pudoga, are generally composed in short lines of 5 or 6 syllables, whereas the same poem to thenbsp;west of the lake is generally in long lines of 8 or 9. Rhyme is whollynbsp;absent from the byliny.

A certain amount of variation appears to exist between the metres of the byliny according as they are sung or recited. In the latter case it wasnbsp;noted by Gilferding that the metre almost entirely disappeared. It hasnbsp;also been observed that I. T. Ryabinin, in reciting byliny, frequentlynbsp;abandoned the metrical form for several lines consecutively, reciting innbsp;pure prose. He appears to have done this more especially in reciting thenbsp;speeches of his characters. It may be noted that I. T. Ryabinin recitednbsp;a generation later than Gilferding�s minstrels, and probably represents anbsp;more advanced stage in the metrical disintegration. It is this breakdown in the metres, resulting in prose paraphrases of the lyliny, whichnbsp;gives us a unique form of heroic saga in Russia�the pobyvalshchiny ornbsp;prose versions of byliny, in which the poetic diction and conventionsnbsp;are preserved intact.

Although the character of the metre cannot be said to be established,^ it is impossible to doubt that metre in some form exists. The byliny arenbsp;quite different from ordinary prose, and their rhythmical character atnbsp;once becomes apparent if we compare them, e.g., with these pobyvalshchiny or �broken-down� byliny. The following points are not withoutnbsp;significance for determining the metrical character of the byliny.

� Kir�evski, v. p. 186 ff.; translated by Chadwick, R.H.P. p. 57 ff. Gilferding, i, p. 41.

3 For some general observations on this point the reader may consult Gilferding, I. p. 39 ff.; Lyatski, p. 25 ff.; Magnus, Ballads, p. 14 ff.

The break-down of metres appears to go hand in hand with the deterioration in musical accomplishment. Although the byliny are nownbsp;sung without accompaniment in the north, it may be doubted if thisnbsp;was always so. The loss of the instrumental accompaniment may havenbsp;been partly caused by the poverty of the singers, and the consequentnbsp;lowering of standard and disintegration of the poetry. We are told thatnbsp;the airs generally possess a certain monotony, the variety in the performance being obtained by the amount of expression put into it by thenbsp;singers. Even the best singers have generally only one or two tunes.nbsp;Yet there are exceptions, and Yakushkov, perhaps the greatest of allnbsp;the singers, knew a diff�rent tune to almost every bylina, and of thenbsp;latter he had the largest repertoire on record. The evidence as a whole,nbsp;therefore, suggests that Russian popular music has riches in store for thenbsp;investigator.�

The importance of the musical accompaniment in regard to metre is strikingly attested by Gilferding�s experience among the Olonetsnbsp;reciters. Seeking out Abram Evtikhiev, who had formerly sung thenbsp;bylina of Mikhailo Potyk to Rybnikov, he followed with Rybnikov�snbsp;printed text while the ska^itel sang him his bylina.

�I was amazed by the difference, not in the subject matter of the narrative, but in the versification. In the written text metrical structurenbsp;is expressed only by the dactylic endings of the line; inside the line therenbsp;� Speranski, R.U.S. p. 139 f.

is no sort of metre whatever. Yet when Abram Evtikhiev sang there was clearly discernible, not only the musical cadence of the air, but also thenbsp;fact that the line consisted of feet marked by tonic accents. I resolved tonbsp;write down the bylina afresh; the ska^itel offered to recite it tonbsp;me word by word {po slovesno) without song.�

Gilferding then wrote down the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk; the metre had disappeared, leaving nothing but broken prose like that of Rybni-kov�s version.

�I tried to arrange this disjointed (yublennaya') prose into lines {stikhi), making the ska^itel sing it repeatedly; but this proved impracticable because... the reciters alter the bylina to some extent withnbsp;every fresh recitation, transposing words and passages, now adding,nbsp;now leaving out some lines, now employing different expressions.nbsp;Having listened for some days... and made vain efforts to write thenbsp;bylina down perfectly exact, with the metre preserved, as it is sung, Inbsp;tried to get my rhapsodist friend to sing (and not to recite merely bynbsp;words) the bylina, with such pauses between each line that it could benbsp;written down. This was easily explained to Abram Evtikhiev, and I oncenbsp;more attempted to write down his bylina. The air preserved the poeticalnbsp;metre.. . and the bylina got on to paper as it was actually sung.�

Gilferding tried the same plan with the other singers and almost always with success.*

It has been observed that in northern Russia, and more especially in Olonets, Russian oral poetry has generally been sung in modern timesnbsp;without musical accompaniment. No instrument is in use to accompanynbsp;the byliny or stikhi. Elsewhere in Russia, however, musical instruments�nbsp;are still in use, and in the south and west the kal�ki still sing stikhi to thenbsp;accompaniment of the lyre and the bandura. The latter is a kind of lute,nbsp;or large fiddle with more than twenty strings, played with an arched bow,nbsp;which is said to have been introduced into Little Russia from Poland innbsp;the sixteenth century.

The instrument frequently referred to in the byliny as in use by the heroes of Kiev and Novgorod is the gusli, a kind of recumbent harp,nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;f

� An account of the musical instruments in use in Russia today and in the past, together with a number of illustrations, will be found in Lavignac, p. 2486 ff.

3 An interesting account of the Russian gusli and a series of pictures of the instrument will be found in an article by V�is�nen. See the List of Abbreviations at the close of this Part, s.v.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.

23 been taken in many parts by the three- or four-stringed balalaika^ a kindnbsp;of guitar with a triangular box, which is played by plucking the stringsnbsp;with the fingers.

The airs to which the byliny are sung, like the metres, still await scientific investigation. Unfortunately the music has hitherto completely baffled musical experts. The article by Delange and Malherbe innbsp;Lavignac�s Encyclop�die de la Musique^ Vol. V, Pt. I, p. 2486 ff. containsnbsp;some interesting specimens of folk-tunes and notes on Russian peasantnbsp;instruments, but makes no attempt at serious musical analysis or comprehensive treatment. Kirsha Danilov noted down a large number ofnbsp;airs in the collection of byliny from Perm, which he made in the eighteenthnbsp;century, and these are accessible in Sheffer�s edition.^ In 1895 Lyatskinbsp;also published some tunes recorded from Olonets; � but as the system ofnbsp;scales followed by the singers differs widely from that employed innbsp;modem systems of notation, it is obvious that such attempts can givenbsp;only a partial and unsatisfactory idea of the originals. In our own daynbsp;the Sokolovs have obtained phonograph records from the singing of thenbsp;peasants of Olonets, which should produce interesting results for thenbsp;history of Russian music when they are made available.

The evidence of the medieval Russian chronicles suggests that heroic conditions have appeared in different areas of Russia at different periods.nbsp;While it would be misleading to speak of a Heroic Age of Russia as anbsp;whole, we can distinguish a series of Heroic Ages or Heroic Phasesnbsp;with different centres of activity at different periods. The first of whichnbsp;we have record is that of the Scandinavian supremacy, having its centrenbsp;at Kiev. This was, of course, only one development of ffie Vikingnbsp;activity, which took place over a great part of northern and westernnbsp;Europe between the eighth and the tenth centuries, and which isnbsp;generally referred to as the Viking Age. But in Russia, or at least innbsp;south Russia, this activity seems to have assumed heroic characteristics,nbsp;if we may judge from the records. The so-called chronicle of Nestor,nbsp;more properly known as the Ancient Chronicle,3 which is our chiefnbsp;authority for the early period of Kiev, has manifestly been composed innbsp;the interests of the Scandinavian dynasty, and, in the earlier portions,

� The edition of Sheffer to which reference is made was published at St Petersburg in 1901.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Lyatski, ad fin.

3 For the convenience of western readers references are given throughout to L�ger�s (French) translation. See the list of abbreviations at the close of this Part,nbsp;s.v. Ancient Chronicle.

appears to have been derived largely from heroic saga or poetry, the spirit of which it has preserved very carefully. As a literal record of factnbsp;the early entries of this chronicle leave much to be desired; but theynbsp;create an impression that heroic conditions prevailed in Kiev at thenbsp;period to which the early entries relate, and that from this period a largenbsp;body of heroic tradition survived to be transcribed in the written recordsnbsp;at a later date.

The Ancient Chronicle covers, roughly speaking, the period from the middle of the ninth to the fourteenth century, and it is to this period,nbsp;and more especially to the earlier portion, that the heroic traditions ofnbsp;Kiev are ascribed by the annalist. In the oral poetry of Russia thesenbsp;heroic traditions are centred in Prince Vladimir of Kiev�whethernbsp;Vladimir I (980-1015), or Vladimir II (1113-1125). It is an interestingnbsp;fact, however, that already in the time of Vladimir I a definite movementnbsp;was made in the direction of civilisation by the adoption of Christianitynbsp;in the year 988. At the same time, the marriage of the Prince with anbsp;Greek wife must have introduced a considerable amount of Greeknbsp;culture into the country. Heroic traditions, nevertheless, seem to havenbsp;flourished at Kiev down to a much later date. Moreover the internal familynbsp;relations of the ruling dynasty, and the political relations of Kiev withnbsp;the northern cities show little or no advance beyond heroic conditions,nbsp;and such temporary advances as were made from time to time by thenbsp;more enlightened rulers were checked by the Tatar inroads from thenbsp;south, notably the invasion by the Pechenegs in the time of Vladimir I,nbsp;and that by the Polovtsy in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. The disturbed conditions consequent upon the Tatar menace must have tendednbsp;to foster and revive the heroic elements in the community, whichnbsp;evidently persisted down to the Tatar invasion of 1228 and the sack ofnbsp;Kiev in 1240.

During the period of the supremacy of Kiev there also existed a number of city states in northern and central Russia, some of themnbsp;nominally dependent on Kiev, others virtually independent, andnbsp;struggling for regional supremacy according to the rank, ambition, andnbsp;ability of their rulers. Among others we may mention Chernigov,nbsp;Suzdal, Pskov, Ryazan, Tver, Vladimir. Each of these communitiesnbsp;was no doubt at some period a small centre of heroic activity. We shallnbsp;see in the chapter on �Historical and Unhistorical Elements� that somenbsp;of the heroic stories originally belonging to these cities have at a subsequent period been adopted into the Cycle of stories associated withnbsp;early Kiev.

The most important of the cities of northern Russia in the early period was Novgorod. Novgorod had, however, long ago emergednbsp;from heroic conditions. A Heroic Age had no doubt existed in Novgorod at an early period, when the Scandinavian Vikings first enterednbsp;Russia from the north-west and settled Novgorod and Ladoga and thenbsp;regions to the north. Echoes of this heroic phase, especially relating tonbsp;the settled areas to the north-east of the Great L^es, as well as tonbsp;Scandinavian settlements in Finland, make themselves heard in the Oldnbsp;Norse Fornaldar S�gur. But when we first read of Novgorod in thenbsp;pages of the Russian chronicles she has already left the Heroic Age farnbsp;behind, and become a rich trading community, with distant colonies andnbsp;outposts reaching as far as the White Sea in the north and the provincenbsp;of Tobolsk in Siberia in the east, and possessing a cosmopolitannbsp;population, and an advanced and highly individual constitution.nbsp;Nominally she owed fealty to Kiev (from c. 880-1169); but she hadnbsp;long resented interference from the southern state on the Dn�pr.nbsp;During most of this time the Grand Prince of Kiev appointed rulers tonbsp;Novgorod, but not infrequently her proud citizens � made their bow andnbsp;showed them the road �. When the Grand Prince Svyatopolk proposednbsp;to appoint his son as prince of Novgorod against the will of her citizensnbsp;they said promptly: �Send him here if he has a spare head!� Theynbsp;styled themselves �My lord Novgorod the Great� (Gospodin vamp;lifdnbsp;Novgorod'}, and the question used to be asked humorously: �Who cannbsp;stand against God and my lord Novgorod.^� If we may judge by thenbsp;written records, the economic conditions of Novgorod seem to benbsp;considerably in advance of those of Kiev at the beginning of the historical period; but here again the �heroic� and partisan character of thenbsp;Ancient Chronicle may be misleading.

The long struggle between royal Kiev and mercantile Novgorod came to an end in 1228. In this year the disruption of Kiev, which wasnbsp;already far advanced owing to incessant struggles with neighbouringnbsp;princes, was completed by the disastrous defeat of the Russians atnbsp;the hands of the Tatars on the River Kalka. Novgorod, on the othernbsp;hand, was sheltered behind her marshes, and so was spared the Tatarnbsp;scourge. She was the only Russian city of consequence which remainednbsp;immune.

But a new power was coming into being in the east in the growing importance of the principality of Moscow. During the earlier periodsnbsp;of Russian history, when the power of Kiev and Novgorod were at theirnbsp;height, Moscow was merely an unimportant little forest-girt city on the

River Moskva, a tributary of the Klyazma, wholly absorbed in petty relations with her mighty western neighbour, Novgorod. Owing, however, to her favoured geographical position, Moscow had long been receivingnbsp;an influx of immigrant agricultural colonists from the devastated areasnbsp;round Kiev and elsewhere, and had gradually developed into a politicalnbsp;centre of some consequence. Surrounded by forests which offered unfavourable conditions to the tactics of the mounted Tatars, she was alsonbsp;admirably placed for communication with the great river systems, thenbsp;only roads of Russia. Partly owing to these factors, partly owing to hernbsp;central position, and perhaps more than all owing to the politic andnbsp;ambitious character of her princes at the time of the Tatar Conquest,nbsp;Moscow became virtually the tax-collectors for the Golden Horde, andnbsp;did not hesitate to make the most of her position to aggrandise herselfnbsp;at the expense of the other states. Under a series of able and politicnbsp;rulers Moscow gradually emerged to a position of authority over thenbsp;rest of the Russian principalities. Her period of military activity wasnbsp;to follow. In 1378 Dimitri of the Don, Grand Prince of Moscow, wonnbsp;the first considerable victory over the Tatars on the plain of Kulikovo.nbsp;Later, with the conquest of Kazan by Ivan the Terrible in 1552, thenbsp;power of the Tatars in Russia was broken. A series of conquests, somenbsp;of them earlier, under Ivan III, others to follow later, under Ivan IV,nbsp;made the Muscovite kingdom supreme in Russia, and the city of Moscow continued to be the focus and centre of Russian power till thenbsp;removal of the capital to St Petersburg under Peter the Great.

SECULAR oral narrative poems (stariny, byliny'} are exceedingly numerous. Scores, if not hundreds, of themes and stories occur,nbsp;most of them in several variant forms. The subjects of thesenbsp;poems offer a wider range of motif and treatment than any other literaturenbsp;with which we are familiar. The majority group themselves into Cycles,nbsp;and these Cycles are associated for the most part with prominentnbsp;Russian rulers of the past, and the cities in which they lived. All thenbsp;byliny appear to relate to Christian times. It has been commonly supposed that certain poems relating to the so-called �Older Heroes�, datenbsp;from the heathen period, but, as we shall see later, there is no satisfactory evidence for assigning to them so early a date.The pure narrativenbsp;form is the one in which these poems are most commonly composed,nbsp;and indeed it is the only form in which byliny relating to the earliernbsp;periods are found. The majority of the byliny are heroic in style, butnbsp;non-heroic elements are numerous and pervasive.

The relationship of the form of the bylina to the story, of story to version, of both story and version to the group of stories connected withnbsp;a particular hero, and again of this group to the Cycle in which itnbsp;occurs, is a complicated one, and it is perhaps in this relationship that thenbsp;oral poetry of Russia differs most essentially from that of the Yugoslavs.nbsp;It is not merely that the tone or �tendency��the signs of the milieu innbsp;which a bylina has taken form�may vary indefinitely. The shape andnbsp;scope of any given bylina also admit of almost indefinite variation. Whilenbsp;one bylina may consist of a single incident, related elaborately and atnbsp;length, and rounded off, another bylina may consist of a variant versionnbsp;of this incident, together with other incidents leading up to it or arisingnbsp;from it. A third may relate a totally different series of incidents associated with the same hero. Yet another may relate a whole cycle ofnbsp;stories associated with him, narrated in more or less summary form,nbsp;according to the length of a bylina, and the memory, or mood, or skillnbsp;of the reciter. These incidents may be organically connected with onenbsp;another; but they may, on the other hand, be more or less independent.

In the latter cases, the only unity is supplied by the person of the hero. They are stories of a person rather than of events. Indeed every hero ofnbsp;the great Cycles relating to the earlier periods is himself the centre of anbsp;group of stories from which the reciter selects at pleasure the incidentsnbsp;to be related at each recitation. This aspect of the reciter�s art will benbsp;considered more fully in the chapters on �The Texts�, and �Recitationnbsp;and Composition�.

We will now give some account of the subjects of the by liny. These, as we have said, tend to fall into Cycles, associated with particularnbsp;periods and localities. Of these the Cycle which has generally beennbsp;considered the earliest in regard to subject is the one which includesnbsp;the heroes Volga, Mikula, and Svyatogor, with whom also is associated,nbsp;and partly confused, the Biblical hero Samson. Of the first threenbsp;nothing appears to be certainly known from other sources. The fourthnbsp;has undoubtedly borrowed some of his exploits, as well as his name,nbsp;from the hero of the Old Testament. This group is generally known asnbsp;the � Older Heroes �. There is, however, no valid reason for assigningnbsp;special antiquity to any of them except Samson himself, as we shall seenbsp;when we come to consider the question of historical elements in thenbsp;byliny. The heroes themselves, and in general the feats which theynbsp;perform, have their nearest affinities in folk-tales. They have, however,nbsp;very little in common with one another.

The stories relating to the hero Svyatogor narrate four important incidents in the life of the hero.� The story of his marriage is found onlynbsp;in a pobyvalshchina (cf. p. 20 above), and in a bylina of which the hero�snbsp;name is Samson. Both these versions are recorded from reciters of thenbsp;same village. The story, which relates to an intrigue between Svyatogor�snbsp;wife and Ilya of Murom, is also rare, occurring in three versions only,nbsp;two of which are in prose, the remaining one in verse. A third storynbsp;relates how Svyatogor, despite his vast strength, fails to lift a bagnbsp;carried by his fellow-traveller, which proves, upon examination, tonbsp;contain the weight of the whole world. Of the seven versions which havenbsp;been recorded of this story, four are in verse, two in prose, and onenbsp;partly in verse, partly in prose. Of the fourth story, which relates thenbsp;death of Svyatogor in a fatal coffin, thirteen versions have been recorded,nbsp;of which eight are in verse, four in prose, and one partly in verse, partlynbsp;in prose. Like the byliny of Mikula, all these versions, prose and versenbsp;alike, belong to the north of Russia in Europe. The motifs of which the

� A study of the byliny relating to Svyatogor, and full references to all versions, has recently been made by A. Mazon, �Svjatogor ou Saint-Mont le G�ant�, R.�.S.nbsp;xn (1932), p. 160 ff.

29 first two stories are composed are found widespread also in folk-talesnbsp;elsewhere, and both these stories are believed to have been associatednbsp;with Svyatogor only in recent years? The story of Svyatogor and thenbsp;bag, and that which relates the death of the hero, are more distinctivenbsp;and more interesting, though analogies to both are to be found in othernbsp;literatures, notably in the neighbourhood of the Caucasus? Versions ofnbsp;both have been translated into English? It will be seen that these twonbsp;stories are of far more frequent occurrence than the two preceding ones,nbsp;and they are much more frequently found in the form of byliny than ofnbsp;prose stories.

The figure of Svyatogor is strangely nebulous, and his origin and identity have hitherto evaded the curious scrutiny of many scholars.nbsp;He lacks the distinctive personal traits of Mikula the husbandman tonbsp;whom reference will shortly be made, and who appears as his fellow-traveller in certain versions. On the other hand he is in no sense a heroicnbsp;figure, though he is brought into close association with Ilya of Murom,nbsp;and also, sporadically, with other heroes of Kiev and Novgorod, thoughnbsp;the two latter associations are obviously adventitious. He resembles thenbsp;giant of folk-tales, whose character seems to consist wholly of vastnbsp;strength. He is, indeed, definitely styled a giant {yelikari)�one of thenbsp;few supernatural beings who are heroes of byliny�and his name isnbsp;thought to mean � Holy Mountain . The stories associated with him�nbsp;whether prose or verse�are wholly lacking in local associations or localnbsp;colour. It is stated in several versions that �he was not allowed in holynbsp;Russia: damp mother earth could not bear his weight�. He dwells

On the lofty mountains, on the holy mountains, but his vast strength is a sorrow to him:

He was heavily burdened, as if with a grievous load; He could not control his heroic strength.

And he threw away his steel club. Which vanished out of sight above the clouds.nbsp;And caught it again in his white hand:

� See Mazon, loc. cit. p. 176 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Ib. pp. 175, 190.

3 Chadwick, p. 50 ff. Unless otherwise stated, the references to Chadwick throughout the foomotes of this Part are to English translations of the bylinynbsp;cited in the text.

Yet no great achievements are attributed to him in Russian tradition, and all the stories which we possess represent the hero as balked or innbsp;some way rendered impotent. The most interesting is the story of hisnbsp;inglorious death. He is represented as journeying with Ilya of Muromnbsp;and as finding a stone tomb or coffin. Ilya lies down in the coffin, butnbsp;it does not fit him. Svyatogor in turn lies down in it to test it, but oncenbsp;the lid is lowered it can never again be raised. The giant breathes somenbsp;power into Ilya before he dies which suggests that he may have beennbsp;regarded in the light of a magician; but we are told that had he beennbsp;allowed to breathe with his full dying force his breath would have beennbsp;death to the hero. Professor Mazon suggests that this malicious attemptnbsp;of the dying giant on the life of his companion allows us to suspect thatnbsp;in the original version of the story Svyatogor had been imprisonednbsp;in the tomb by some trick or act of bad faith on the part of Ilya.

Another hero who is generally classed in the so-called early group is Mikula Selyaninovich, �Mikula the villager�s son�. The principal bylinanbsp;of which Mikula is the subject relates to his exploits as a superb fieldnbsp;labourer and ploughman. The characteristic features of this hero are hisnbsp;tremendous strength and his knowledge of husbandry and agriculture.nbsp;He is a typical �strong peasant�. This bylina^ has been found only in thenbsp;north of Russia in Europe. It is recorded in four important versions,nbsp;and some thirteen versions which are either inferior or fragmentary. Ofnbsp;the four principal versions, the one recited by Kasyanov, the �educated�nbsp;(^gramotny) ska^^itel, to Gilferding is held to be the most complete, if notnbsp;the best, while of the other three, two are recorded from the recitationnbsp;of the elder Ryabinin, and a third, which closely resembles them, fromnbsp;that of his son. The fylina recited by the elder Ryabinin to Rybnikovnbsp;has been translated into English.3 We will therefore give here a shortnbsp;account of the version of Kasyanov. It will be seen that his version doesnbsp;not differ greatly from those of Ryabinin and his son.

The bylina opens with an account of the birth of another hero, Volga Svyatoslavovich, and tells of his early education in shape-changing andnbsp;animal lore. After he has collected a dTu:^hina^ he rides over the opennbsp;plain to take possession of his cities, and as he does so he hears thenbsp;grating of a plough against the stones. For two days he follows the

� For a recent study of this bylina and an account of the extant versions, see an article by A. Mazon, �Mikula le Prodigieux Laboureur�, R.�.S. xi. p. 149.

� Gilferding, ii. p. 517 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Chadwick, p. 44 ff.

This is the name of the group of personal attendants and immediate followers, especially military followers, of the Russian princes in early times.

31 sound, but cannot come up with the ploughman. At last on the thirdnbsp;day he succeeds in overtaking him. The appointments of the plough arenbsp;fine and costly, and the mare is a superb steed. The ploughman himselfnbsp;has curly hair which falls about his shoulders like pearls; he has brightnbsp;eyes like those of a falcon, and sable brows, and he wears green morocconbsp;shoes with high heels and pointed toes, and a robe of brocade. Volganbsp;hails him and tells him that he is riding to take possession of three citiesnbsp;which have been bestowed on him by Prince Vladimir�Kurtsovets,nbsp;Or�khovets, and Krestyanovets. Mikula warns him that the citizensnbsp;are unfriendly and have destroyed the foundations of the bridge leadingnbsp;to the town. He tells him that he was there three days ago buying salt,nbsp;and the citizens demanded an extortionate price for it: but he gave themnbsp;a drubbing. Volga at once invites Mikula to join him as travelling companion, and Mikula consents, and proceeds to unharness his mare fromnbsp;the plough. Mikula desires that his plough be thrown behind a bushnbsp;for the use of peasants and countrymen, but five of Volga�s drui^inanbsp;cannot lift it, nor even ten; even the whole twenty-nine cannot move it.nbsp;But the ploughman seizes it lightly in one hand and flings it behind thenbsp;bush and rides away. His mare moves forward at an easy pace, whilenbsp;Volga�s horse gallops, yet cannot keep up with him. Volga cries out tonbsp;Mikula that if his mare had been a horse he would have offered him fivenbsp;hundred roubles for it. Mikula replies that he gave that price for thenbsp;mare as a young foal; had it been a horse it would have been priceless.nbsp;Volga then enquires the name of his ploughman companion, and theynbsp;ride together to the city of Kurtsovets. The occupants of the city arenbsp;astonished at the transformation of their visitor who only three daysnbsp;before had been a �muzhik�, and they approach him bowing low andnbsp;making excuses for their previous conduct. Then Volga turns tonbsp;Mikula and appoints him his governor in the three cities, bidding himnbsp;collect the tribute. It may be observed that this incident is absentnbsp;from the versions of Ryabinin and his sons; but it is the logical conclusion of the preceding incidents, and probably formed a part of thenbsp;original story.

Professor Mazon holds that this bylina is wrongly entitled Volga and Mikula, and that it should rather be �Mikula the stupendous labourer�nbsp;{MUada le prodigieux laboureur'}, since Mikula is obviously the hero.nbsp;There can be no question that in its final redaction the bylina is primarilynbsp;concerned with the glorification of Mikula. Yet Volga is equally essential to the story, which would fall to pieces without him. The point isnbsp;of some importance since it affects the relationship of this bylina to the

one next to be considered. The following points should therefore be noted as significant: (i) In the bylina of Volga and Mikula the figure ofnbsp;Volga is constant. The only exception/ which occurs in one of the versions of secondary value/ is obviously due to inadvertence; (2) Thenbsp;bylina almost invariably opens with an account of the birth and earlynbsp;training of Volga. Professor Mazon suggests that this opening has beennbsp;transferred from the bylina of Volga next to be considered, but if this isnbsp;the case, the consistency with which this transference is effected itselfnbsp;requires explanation; (3) The picture of Volga is distinctive, unique,nbsp;and consistent. It is remote from the figure of folk-tale, or the �type�,nbsp;such as is usually found when it is thought necessary to supply a framework for the principal hero; (4) In the best versions of the lylina (thosenbsp;of Ryabinin and Kasyanov) Mikula at once recognises Volga and addresses him by name, whereas Volga has to enquire the name of thenbsp;ploughman�surely an admission that the former rather than the latternbsp;belongs to the original nucleus of the bylina. For these and other reasonsnbsp;which will appear presently, it would seem reasonable to regard the partnbsp;of Volga in this bylina as integral and significant.

In addition to the bylina of Volga and Mikula, there is one other bylina in which Volga plays an important r�le. Here, indeed, he is thenbsp;sole hero, and the lylina is devoted wholly to the story of his intellectualnbsp;gifts and protean character on the one hand, and to his practical exploitsnbsp;on the other. The versions of this bylina are, so far as we know, allnbsp;derived from the north of Russia in Europe and from Perm. They arenbsp;not numerous, and differ very little from one another. The most important is the version recited by Ryabinin to Rybnikov and Gilferding.nbsp;The former has been translated into English.3 ft relates the birth of thenbsp;hero, and, like most versions of this bylina, and of that which relates tonbsp;Volga�s comradeship with Mikula, it takes note of the state of the elementsnbsp;and external nature at the time of Volga�s birth, as if these bore somenbsp;special relationship to the character or mental and spiritual endowmentsnbsp;of the hero. Even in his youth the birds and beasts flee from him innbsp;terror, and as he grows up he learns all tongues and all handicrafts, andnbsp;becomes proficient in supernatural wisdom. He collects a bravenbsp;dru^hina of twenty-nine bold youths, and orders them to hunt andnbsp;snare wild creatures; but the dru^hina are unsuccessful in their efforts

� In the version recited by Lyadkov (Gilferding, III. p. 316 ff.) Ivan Godinovich has been substituted for Volga.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* See Mazon, loc. cit. p. 150.

3 Chadwick, p. 33 ff. Kirsha Danilov�s version is held to be the most perfect example of this lylina, but it is incomplete. See Mazon, R.E.S. xi. p. 152.

33 till Volga transforms himself into a lion and rounds up all the animals.nbsp;Then he orders his dTu':{hma to go fowling; but again they are unsuccessful till Volga transforms himself into a bird and flies away to the sky andnbsp;collects all the birds together. His drwinina try fishing, but they catchnbsp;nothing till Volga transforms himself into a pike and drives together allnbsp;the other fish. Thus far the hunting of Volga. He next turns his attention to military matters. He wishes to send a messenger to the land ofnbsp;the Turks (or, variously, the Golden Horde), to discover the intentionsnbsp;of the Turkish � tsar� in regard to Russia; but he comes to the conclusionnbsp;that none can be trusted to carry out the mission with the requisite speednbsp;save himself. Indeed as we read this bylina we feel that Mikula is rightnbsp;when he tells Volga that the members of his dru[hina are a negligiblenbsp;band. He accordingly transforms himself into a bird and flies to thenbsp;window of the palace of the Turkish �tsar�, and overhears the �tsar�nbsp;and �tsaritsa� arguing as to the advisability of invading Russia. As thenbsp;�tsar� seems firm in his intention, despite the dissuasions of the �tsaritsa�,nbsp;Volga transforms himself into a wolf and tears the throats of the �tsar�s�nbsp;horses; into an ermine, and ruins his weapons; and finally once more intonbsp;a bird, and then returns to Russia. Naturally the ensuing battle is annbsp;easy victory for Volga and his dTu:[hina. In the version in which Volga isnbsp;represented as flying to the Golden Horde, no battle takes place. Whennbsp;Volga, in the form of a bird, overhears the conversation between thenbsp;�tsar� and the �tsaritsa� in the Golden Horde, he upbraids the �tsar�nbsp;roundly and orders him to be gone, and the �tsar� is fain to return alongnbsp;the road by which he has come.

In the lylina of Volga and Mikula the balance is almost equally maintained between the heroic and the non-heroic elements. Despite the supernatural features attributed to Volga at the opening of many versions, he figures throughout the action as a heroic prince devoid of anynbsp;supernatural power. Mikula, on the other hand, is primarily endowednbsp;with the characteristics of a peasant�physical force, speed and skill innbsp;husbandry. He is the glorification of the peasant ideal. In the bylinanbsp;devoted wholly to Volga, heroic and non-heroic characteristics arenbsp;again equally balanced, this time in the person of the hero himself. Thenbsp;non-heroic characteristics are not those of a peasant, however, butnbsp;resemble closely those of the Siberian shaman. He stands in intimatenbsp;relationship with the world of nature and the elements. He is full ofnbsp;wisdom, but his wisdom is occult, the supernatural knowledge of nature.nbsp;Like a shaman he possesses the power of changing himself into allnbsp;creatures of animate nature, and into whatever order of nature he trans-CL ii

forms himself he is supreme. He is also a military chief and a great hunter. In this triple function of shaman, hunter, and heroic chief,nbsp;Volga stands alone among the heroes of the Russian by liny. Fornbsp;analogies we must look to the oral literature of the Turkish and Turko-Finnish and Ostyak tribes of northern Asia, especially those on thenbsp;western watershed of the Yenisei, whose narrative poetry is containednbsp;in the second volume of Radlov�s collection; though the nearestnbsp;actual parallel occurs in the Kara-Kirghiz poem Joloi (cf. Vol. iii).nbsp;The affinities of Volga will become clearer when we come to speak ofnbsp;the literature of the Tatars in the following volume.

By far the largest Cycle of byliny relates to the district in and around Kiev. The earliest of the heroes to whom a date can be assigned with anynbsp;I probability is Vladimir I, the last of the � Scandinavian � princes of Kiev,nbsp;who was baptised in 988, and who was commonly referred to by thenbsp;historians of last century as the founder of the Russian Empire. Roundnbsp;him by far the largest number of stories are loosely grouped, much asnbsp;the legends of the knights of the Round Table are grouped round thenbsp;person of King Arthur. But like King Arthur himself, Vladimir isnbsp;never the principal figure of the stories, though he is the Solnyshkonbsp;(�Little Sun�, or �Dear Sun�)^ round whom the other planets revolve.nbsp;The minstrels who composed the byliny, however, have not distinguishednbsp;him from Vladimir Monomakh who died in 1126, and have attributednbsp;to the former prince many of the features which belong to the latter.nbsp;Vladimir I was constantly engaged in hostilities against the Pechenegs,nbsp;as Vladimir Monomakh was against the Polovtsy. In the byliny thenbsp;enemies are the �Tatars�.

The poems of this Cycle relate the adventures of the members of 1 Vladimir�s dru^ina, or body of personal followers. They are primarilynbsp;1 stories of adventure and of practical action, but incidents and scenesnbsp;from domestic life are also common. The range of subjects consists fornbsp;the most part of feasts, journeys, single combats, trials of skill in arms,nbsp;sports, or horsemanship, acts of insubordination followed by punishment and reconciliation, and expeditions against the Tatars and othernbsp;neighbouring peoples. Incidents of domestic life are also common, suchnbsp;as courtships, marriages, and infidelities. Quarrels between heroes also

* The origin of the epithet is unknown, though many derivations have been suggested, mostly of a romantic character. It is perhaps worth remarking that thenbsp;word �Sun� is commonly applied to the heroes in Tatar epic poems, as the wordnbsp;�Moon� is to the heroines, and here the words seem to be used in the sense of �son�nbsp;and �daughter�. We suspect that the Russian epithet is of Tatar origin.

35 occur as a natural consequence, though they are not common, and rarelynbsp;very serious. In the combats the object is generally treasure ornbsp;�tribute�, or else women, or, less frequently, personal aggrandisement.nbsp;Head-hunting for its own sake is rarely referred to�; cattle-raiding,nbsp;never. Sea voyages on mercantile enterprises, curiously enough, arenbsp;not rare in the early Cycles. Disguise and impersonation are surprisingly frequent, both by men and women. The element of thenbsp;marvellous and the superhuman is not rare, but in general it isnbsp;chiefly confined to exaggeration, and though supernatural elementsnbsp;occur, they are usually subordinate to the heroic narrative of adventure,nbsp;and to incidents of domestic life. The style of the byliny is wholly conventional, however, and there is no attempt at realism.

One of the few byliny in which Vladimir himself figures in an important r�le is �The Marriage of Vladimir�. In the version sung by Chukov^ Vladimir sends' his two brothers, Fedor Ivanovich and Vasilinbsp;Ivanovich, to woo on his behalf Nastasya, the daughter of the king ofnbsp;Lithuania. In the variant version recorded by Kirsha Danilov 3 fromnbsp;Perm, the emissary is Ivan Gostinoy Syn, one of Vladimir�s drw^hina.nbsp;The king is not favourable to the match, but when the usual threat isnbsp;expressed that if his daughter is not given honourably she will be takennbsp;ignominiously, his daughter comes out and addresses the messengersnbsp;from her staircaseas follows:

Greetings, Vasili Ivanovich! Greetings, Fedor Ivanovich!nbsp;If you have any sense in your heads,nbsp;You will take my father.nbsp;The beloved king.nbsp;Drag him into the open plain,nbsp;Bury him in the damp earth,nbsp;Bury him to his white breast;

Perchance the king will then come to his senses. Perchance the king will then regain his wits.nbsp;Perchance he will then give me, the princess Nastasya,nbsp;To the Prince Vladimir.

� A possible instance is to be found in the version of the slaying of Tugarin the Dragon�s Son by Alyosha Popovich recorded by Kirsha Danilov, in which Alyoshanbsp;is represented as cutting off Tugarin�s head, piercing his ears, binding the head to hisnbsp;horse, and bringing it to Kiev, where he flings it into the midst of the royal courtyard. See Kireevski, ii. p. 70 if.; Hapgood, Songs, p. 65.

� Rybnikov, i. p. 142. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Kir�evski, ill. p. 70 ff.

The external staircase leading to the living apartments, including the women�s quarters, on the first floor. The famous �Red Staircase� in the Kremlin is a survivalnbsp;of this early architectural feature. See Chadwick, plan facing p. 288.

Although I was never in the city of Kiev, Yet I know all its wealth and splendour.nbsp;This Prince Vladimir hasnbsp;A gorgeous palace,nbsp;And rich lands;

Has only a bare dwelling. And very poor landnbsp;Very poor land, very unproductive.*

At this point the king her father, who has been eaves-dropping behind his oaken doors, comes forward on hearing Nastasya�s speech,nbsp;and urges them to place her on horseback and away forthwith. Theynbsp;bring her to Kiev, and Vladimir meets them in his most precious jewelsnbsp;and his bravest attire. He takes her � by her white hands, by her goldnbsp;rings �, he lifts her from her mettlesome steed, and kisses and embracesnbsp;her, and conducts her into his palace of white stone, all gaily decorated.nbsp;He makes a great feast in her honour, plying the guests till they arenbsp;replete, and giving wine to the wooers till they can drink no more, andnbsp;all his subjects begin to boast:

His like is not in the whole of Russia, His like there is not in stone-built Moscow.^

The same singer also recited to Rybnikov another bylina of Nastasya,3 relating to her earlier life at her father�s court in Lithuania, in which shenbsp;is represented as saving the life of her lover who is condemned to deathnbsp;by the king for boasting of his familiarity with her.

One of the most important of the heroes of Kiev is Dobrynya Nikitich, who is sometimes represented in the byliny as a nephew of Vladimir. He is a man of polished manners and courteous bearing, and is frequently employed by Vladimir on diplomatic missions. The most important of Dobrynya�s adventures relates to the slaying of a greatnbsp;dragon with twelve tails, which inhabits a cavern on a river�in somenbsp;versions the R. Pochay, in others the Smorodina, the Safat, etc. Many

� The last line is a form of anachronism very common in the byliny. At the time to which the stories of Kiev relate, Moscow had not yet come into existence. Thenbsp;stone buildings of � Moscow of the white stone walls � Ib�lokammenaya Moskva) havenbsp;made a great impression on Russian singers accustomed only to wooden buildings.

versions of this exploit have been recorded. In the version recited by Chukov to Rybnikov� we are told that at the first encounter Dobrynyanbsp;contents himself with cutting off the dragon�s tails and letting it go on anbsp;promise of good behaviour in the future. When next he goes to thenbsp;court of Kiev, however, he learns that the dragon has carried offnbsp;Zabava Putyatichna, Vladimir�s niece, and hidden her in a cavern.nbsp;Dobrynya makes his way to the cavern, and this time he hews thenbsp;dragon�s body into small pieces.

As he is escorting Zabava back to Kiev he comes upon the tracks of a pol�nitsa, or warrior maiden of great strength, riding in the open plain.nbsp;He seeks to overcome her, but she seizes him by his yellow curls andnbsp;twists him from his horse and drops him into her leather pouch. Eventually she grants him his life on condition that he promises to marrynbsp;her. Her name also is Nastasya. She is the sister of Vasilisa, the warlikenbsp;wife of Stavr of Chernigov, who visits Vladimir�s court (cf. p. 258nbsp;below). Her father is generally said to be Mikula Selyaninovich, ofnbsp;whom we have already heard (p. 30 IF. above), though in an alternative

Bold Alyosha, or Alexander, the �priest�s� son, from Rostov, is one of the most active and prominent members of Vladimir�s dru^hina,nbsp;though he is not the subject of many independent stories. A rarenbsp;bylina^ relates how he set out from his own home in Rostov, with thenbsp;Jnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;blessing of his father, the priest of the city, and accompanied by his

dTU�^hina. The party arrives at a point where three roads meet, the first road leading to the city of Kiev, the second to the city of Chernigov,^nbsp;and the third to the blue sea. They decide to avoid Chernigov with itsnbsp;luxuries,�^ and to ride to Kiev to pray in God�s churches, and to pay theirnbsp;respects to the holy monasteries. In this way Alyosha comes to be anbsp;member of Vladimir�s court, where he becomes the sworn brother ofnbsp;Dobrynya Nikitich.

Alyosha proves false to his compact with Dobrynya, and a favourite subject of the byliny'^ relates how he comes to Kiev during Dobrynya�s

' nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;' Rybnikov, i. p. 147 ff.; Kir�evski, n. p. 23 fF.

3 Chernigov is on the Desna, a left tributary of the Dn�pr. In early times it was one of the most important cities in Russia.

'* An interesting touch of genuine tradition, since for many centuries Chernigov has been a place of no particular wealth or importance. See note 3 above.

gentle domestic character, and a great contrast to the pol�nitsa or amazon called Nastasya whose wooing by Dobrynya has already beennbsp;referred to. Alyosha is also the central figure of a small number ofnbsp;byliny'^ which are believed to be late, and which belong more properlynbsp;to the class referred to below (p. 45) as babi stariny. In these also henbsp;appears in a sinister light. It is clear that the authors of these storiesnbsp;have no love for the � priest�s � son. They represent him as a mocker ofnbsp;women, and as one who loves to smirch their honour and then betraynbsp;them, holding them up to abuse and punishment. These versions gloatnbsp;openly when Dobrynya returns to avenge himself, and the �priest�snbsp;son� is discomfited.

Alongside this unfavourable portrait of Alyosha, however, there exists also another traditional portrait of a very different kind�one,nbsp;indeed, which is so directly contradictory in all respects that it is impossible to doubt that the contradiction is deliberate, and that we arenbsp;dealing with two opposed traditions which have been carefully fosterednbsp;by schools of reciters with diametrically opposed views and interests innbsp;regard to the Church. The most important of all the byliny in whichnbsp;Alyosha appears as the central figure is that which relates his exploit innbsp;slaying the winged Tugarin Zmeevich, �the Dragon�s son�. And it isnbsp;important to note, that the fullest, and in every respect the best versionnbsp;of this bylina is the one recorded by Kirsha Danilov.� This version maynbsp;be summarised briefly as follows :

As Alyosha Popovich and his servant Ekim Ivanovich ride from Rostov to Kiev they meet a kal�ka who tells them that he has seennbsp;Tugarin, �the Dragon�s son�:

Tugarin is three sa^hens'^ high. Between his sloping shoulders is a span of one sa^Jien,nbsp;Between his eyes is the width of a tempered arrow,nbsp;The steed beneath him is like a ferocious wild beast,nbsp;From his jaws pour burning flames,nbsp;From his ears issues a column of smoke.

The description is certainly more appropriate to a fiery dragon than a man, though no wings are mentioned here. In the encounter betweennbsp;him and Alyosha which follows, however, Tugarin does not appearnbsp;other than a human adversary. Alyosha changes clothes with thenbsp;� Kir�evski, ii. p. 64 ff.

The text �will be found in Kir�evski, n. p. 70. A translation of the first part is given by Chad-wick, p. 74 ff. ; the whole is paraphrased closely by Hapgood, Songs,nbsp;p. 58 ff.

39 kal�ka in order to be able to put his unsuspecting enemy off his guard.nbsp;As he approaches Tugarin he can hardly walk for the noise of hisnbsp;roaring. When Tugarin addresses him, Alyosha bids him come nearer,nbsp;pretending to be deaf,� and suddenly smites him on the head, so that henbsp;falls to the damp earth. Tugarin beseeches him to swear brotherhoodnbsp;with him, but Alyosha distrusts him, and cuts off his head ; and then,nbsp;dressing himself in Tugarin�s valuable clothes, he sets off to rejoinnbsp;Ekim and the kal�ka. Ekim and the kal�ka are naturally startled at thenbsp;sight, and slay him, mistaking him for Tugarin. When, however, theynbsp;discover their error, they revive Alyosha with a � drink from beyond thenbsp;seas �, and Alyosha and Ekim ride on to Kiev.

Vladimir gives them welcome, and presently twelve mighty heroes bring in Tugarin on a sheet of pure gold, and place him in the mostnbsp;important seat next to the princess Apraxya. Here Tugarin�s coarse andnbsp;gluttonous habits give great offence to Alyosha, and he cannot bidenbsp;quietly while the Dragon�s son takes liberties with the princess :

�My father, the priest of Rostov,� cries Alyosha �had an old cow who painfully dragged herself� into the kitchen, and drank beer untilnbsp;she burst.�

This speech displeases Tugarin. He flings his steel dagger at Alyosha, but Alyosha dodges it, and Ekim catches it, and Alyosha challengesnbsp;Tugarin to meet him on the following day in single combat.

He seated himself on his good steed. And soared on his paper wings, flying up to the sky.

Meanwhile Alyosha and Ekim ride forth to the river Safat ; but Alyosha spends the whole night in prayer to God, and his prayer is as follows :

And God sends pouring rain which soaks Tugarin�s paper wings, so that he falls �like a dog� to the damp earth. As he glances for a

� This seems to be a mocking reference to the disablement which Tugarin has suffered at his hands, which may also account for Tugarin�s entry on what appearsnbsp;to be an impromptu stretcher of gold. The latter may, however, be an allusion to thenbsp;custom among the Tatars and kindred people, according to which a ruler is supposednbsp;never to put his foot to the ground. We may refer to the account of the de-nationalisednbsp;ruler on the Volga in 923 given by the Arabic writer, Ibn Fodlan. It will be noticednbsp;that in the hyliny the episode of the beheading has either been forgotten, or was notnbsp;intended to be taken literally.

moment behind him�the reason has been omitted in this version �� Alyosha springs forward and cuts off his head-�his head which is � likenbsp;a beer kettle He pierces his ears and binds the head to his horse andnbsp;carries it in triumph to Kiev. Apraxya bemoans the loss of her lover,nbsp;but Vladimir rejoices greatly, and takes Alyosha into his service.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;*

A prominent member of the Kiev Cycle is Dyuk Stepanovich from rich Galicia, whose visit to Vladimir�s court is a favourite subject withnbsp;the reciters.� The story relates that Dyuk comes to Kiev to discover fornbsp;himself whether the stories are true which have been told him of thenbsp;splendour of the court of Kiev. But he finds the conditions therenbsp;inferior in all respects to those of Galicia, and gives himself such airsnbsp;in consequence that his behaviour exasperates Vladimir�s seneschalnbsp;Churilo Plenkovich. Churilo accordingly challenges Dyuk to a competition as to which of them can produce the greatest number of finenbsp;new clothes, and when he finds that he has got the worst of it he againnbsp;suggests to Dyuk that they shall each jump across the R. Dnepr on theirnbsp;steeds. Dyuk is in despair, for Churilo�s steed is a good one, and fresh,nbsp;being carefully tended by his groom in his own home, whereas he himself has only a jaded mount in Kiev. His steed, however, bids him takenbsp;heart, promising to carry him across the Dn�pr on invisible equinenbsp;wings, and so he does. With a single equine bound he leaps across thenbsp;river and a whole rem 3 beyond, while Churilo falls splash into the midstnbsp;of the river, and Dyuk has to return and gallantly pull out his discomfited rival by his golden curls.

It is curious that the bylina of Dyuk should be one of the most popular among the singers. The hero is a foreigner whose consistent attitude isnbsp;that of contempt for all that he finds at Kiev. His defeated rival andnbsp;opponent is a member of the court, though only a temporary one. It isnbsp;not easy from the story, as we have it, to see how the scornful boasternbsp;has succeeded in so greatly endearing himself to the minstrels whosenbsp;heroes are the subjects of his scorn. There is, however, another rarenbsp;bylina in which quite a different motive is assigned for Dyuk�s visit tonbsp;Kiev. In this bylina, recorded by Rybnikov,^ we are told that Dyuknbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;' *

comes to Kiev with the express purpose of fighting Shark Velikan, a terrible foe to Russia. Shark Velikan is described as a monster pouring

� The reason generally given is a deceitful remark by Alyosha. It will be noticed that our version is favourable to Alyosha throughout, and the incident is accordinglynbsp;suppressed.

out scorching flames on the Christian heroes, mincing them with his steel sword, and trampling them underfoot with his iron clad feet.nbsp;When Dyuk catches sight of him his spirited heart grows faint, and hisnbsp;heroic steed draws back; but he bravely accepts Shark Velikan�s challenge to single combat, and, having prayed to God, he succeeds innbsp;overcoming him.

It has been suggested that this bylina has been borrowed from some MS., and that to some extent it shows literary characteristics. Yet somenbsp;such story as this would more satisfactorily account for Dyuk�s presencenbsp;at Kiev than the motive of mere curiosity. Moreover Rybnikov hasnbsp;preserved another bylina of Shark Velikan� in which Churilo Plenko-vich is represented as his friend and guest. Such a tradition, taken innbsp;connection with the one above referred to, would account for the unexplained enmity between Dyuk and Churilo. It is not easy, withoutnbsp;such traditions, to explain why, from among all the heroes of Vladimir�snbsp;court, it should be only Churilo, the unwilling temporary seneschal,nbsp;who should concern himself to vindicate the honour of Kiev against thenbsp;wealthy stranger from Galicia; or why the haughty foreigner shouldnbsp;have endeared himself to minstrels devoted to the heroes of Kiev.

One of the most interesting, and surely the most fantastic of the byliny, is that which relates to Mikhailo Potyk. The story is very popularnbsp;among the reciters, as we may see from the large number of versions onnbsp;record. We will give here as briefly as possible the version recited bynbsp;Kalinin to Gilferding,3 which is one of the best and fullest. Later,nbsp;when we come to the chapter on �The Texts�, a brief summary willnbsp;be given of the variant version of the bylina recorded by Kirshanbsp;Danilov.

At a great feast Vladimir gives commissions to Ilya of Murom, Dobrynya Nikitich, and Mikhailo Potyk4 to go each on a separatenbsp;expedition to collect the tribute which has long been overdue. The threenbsp;set off, and at the parting of their ways they swear brotherhood together, promising to meet at the same spot when they have executednbsp;their commissions. Mikhailo sets off to Poland, and having collectednbsp;the tribute by force of arms, he proceeds to take his pleasure on thenbsp;river, shooting geese and swans with his arrows. He catches sight of a

� Rybnikov, II. p. 701 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Gilferding, I. p. 63 if.

4 In the version from the R. Kolyma in north-eastern Siberia, Mikhailo�s companions are Dobrynya Nikitich, Sukhan Domantevich, and Alyosha Popovich. Miller, Byliny, p. 205 if.

white swan and draws his bow; but the swan cries out and begs him to spare her, declaring that she is no swan but a fair maiden, Marya ofnbsp;Poland, the daughter of the Polish king, and willing to be received intonbsp;the Orthodox Church and to become his bride. Mikhailo accordinglynbsp;returns to Kiev with Marya and the tribute, and the marriage is dulynbsp;celebrated. It is a curious fact that in this and other versions of thenbsp;bylina it is Marya herself who insists on her change of faith. At thenbsp;wedding the pair swear a mutual oath that whichever of them shall dienbsp;first, the other will accompany the corpse into the tomb alive, and remainnbsp;there for three months.

Shortly afterwards Tsar Bukhar from beyond the sea comes to levy tribute from Vladimir. Mikhailo goes to meet him and plays at chessnbsp;with him, the tsar staking among other things the tribute due to him,nbsp;while Mikhailo stakes the White Swan. Mikhailo wins the stakes, butnbsp;as they are playing Dobrynya enters and announces that the Whitenbsp;Swan is dead. Mikhailo accordingly returns to Kiev and orders anbsp;chambered tomb to be constructed, with room inside to sit, or stand, ornbsp;lie down; and he furnishes it with torches and bread and water to lastnbsp;for three months; and taking with him iron tongs, and three iron rods,nbsp;he goes inside, into the �damp earth� for three months. Other versionsnbsp;add that Mikhailo�s steed also enters the mound with him, and thatnbsp;afterwards yellow sand is heaped over the tomb, and grass sods are laidnbsp;over all. And when it grows dark the hero lights a wax torch and waits.nbsp;On the second day of his vigil a monstrous snake glides up with twelvenbsp;little snakes about her tail. He seizes the monster snake with his tongs,nbsp;and beats it with his rods till it promises to bring the water of life tonbsp;restore his White Swan. On her return he sprinkles Marya three timesnbsp;with the precious water, and on the third occasion she wakens, cryingnbsp;�Fu, fu, fit, what a long sleep I have had!� Thereupon Mikhailo criesnbsp;out so loudly that he is heard in the city, and his companions come andnbsp;dig him out of the damp earth.

Before long the White Swan sends a secret invitation to the prince of Lithuania to come and carry her away. When Mikhailo hears of her departure, he disguises himself as a woman and follows the fugitives, butnbsp;Marya recognises him and presents him with a goblet of magic winenbsp;which turns him to stone. Three years pass by, and Mikhailo�s swornnbsp;brothers, Ilya and Dobrynya, set off to seek him, and in the guise ofnbsp;kalekiy or itinerant religious singers, they visit the Lithuanian prince,nbsp;accompanied by a genuine kal�ka whom they meet on the way. Maryanbsp;recognises them, and by her advice they are received hospitably; but

43 when they ask Marya for Mikhailo Potyk, she replies that she alsonbsp;mourns for him, and that she does not know what has become of him.nbsp;They set out for Kiev, and on the way they pause beside the stonenbsp;figure of Mikhailo to divide the wealth which the prince has bestowednbsp;on them. The heroes are surprised to find that the kal�ka is dividing thenbsp;wealth into four parts. They question him, and he says that the fourthnbsp;portion is for him who shall raise the stone. Ilya and Dobrynya eachnbsp;essay it in vain, but the old kal�ka lifts it without difficulty, saying:nbsp;�Where the stone stood, let Mikhailo Potyk Ivanovich stand!� Thenbsp;stone splits asunder, and there stands Mikhailo Potyk. The kal�ka bidsnbsp;him build two churches as a thank offering, and then departs; butnbsp;Mikhailo again sets off to the king of Poland, disguised as an agednbsp;kal�ka. Again Marya offers him wine, and again his old love of drinkingnbsp;proves his undoing, for he empties the goblet and falls in a stupor, andnbsp;Marya drags him into a cellar and nails him to the wall. But she has onlynbsp;four nails, and a fifth nail is needed for his heroic heart, so Marya runsnbsp;off very, very quickly to the market to buy a fifth nail. Meanwhilenbsp;Nastasya, the king�s daughter, draws out the nails, carefully nailing anbsp;Tatar to the wall in Mikhailo�s place and removing Mikhailo to hernbsp;private apartment. Marya on her return does not notice the exchange,nbsp;and drives the nail through the heart of the Tatar. Meanwhile Mikhailonbsp;recovers, and takes Nastasya to KLiev where she is converted to his faithnbsp;and becomes his bride. Mikhailo, moreover, fulfils his promise to thenbsp;kal�ka and builds two large churches. And so ends the 'starina' ofnbsp;Mikhailo Potyk Ivanovich.

We have dwelt somewhat at length on this bvlina or 'starina' because we shall have occasion to refer to it later. Meanwhile it will be observednbsp;that while heroic in framework and in style, it also contains a considerablenbsp;proportion of non-heroic elements. It is obvious that Mikhailo Potyknbsp;depends for his success more on his wits than his prowess. He nevernbsp;fights, though he beats and hangs the Polish muzhiks, and is ready tonbsp;cut off his wife�s head. He cheats the Tatars, and gets the better ofnbsp;Tsar Bukhar by luck and guile. In some versions, it is true, he cuts offnbsp;the heads of forty princes who come to steal his wife; but he deals withnbsp;them seriatim, catching each one unawares and by guile. He cheats hisnbsp;wife of a part of their death compact. His most glorious feat is catchingnbsp;her unawares in her swan disguise and carrying her off to Kiev. He is anbsp;confirmed drunkard in this version, and is only saved from utternbsp;destruction by the good offices of a kal�ka and a woman.

central point of the original story would seem to be the death compact and the double burial, and Marya�s resuscitation. This is the event whichnbsp;brings forty princes to seek her in marriage, since it is believed she cannotnbsp;die twice. Moreover Marya is herself an essentially �non-heroic� figure.nbsp;She can change herself into a swan; she is learned in drugs, and annbsp;enchantress, as we see from her treatment of herhusband.The only figurenbsp;in the bylina whose power exceeds her own is the kal�ka, and it is interesting to note that he succeeds where Ilya and Dobrynya have also failed.nbsp;Whatever the origin of the bylina, there can be no doubt that ecclesiasticalnbsp;influence has made itself felt on the story in its present form.

The principal hero of early times and the favourite alike of reciters and audience is Ilya of Murom, whose life is spent in warfare against thenbsp;enemies of Russia. He is somewhat of a free-lance, and not permanentlynbsp;attached to Vladimir�s dTu^hina, though he is constantly associated in hisnbsp;exploits with the heroes of Kiev. He is also constantly referred to as thenbsp;�peasant�s son�, and the �Old Cossack�. The byliny are not in entirenbsp;agreement in this, however, as we shall see later. Ilya is always represented as possessing a horse and weapons which is hardly consistentnbsp;with peasant rank. On the other hand he is only rarely represented withnbsp;a personal attendant or a dru^hina, and in a bylina which relates to hisnbsp;youth his parents are said to be absent in the forest felling trees. Thisnbsp;bylina relates that in his youth Ilya was feeble or paralysed for thirty-threenbsp;years, till one day Christ and two apostles come to him disguised asnbsp;kal�ki peTekho^hie, or itinerant religious singers. They bestow strengthnbsp;upon him, and bid him go forth to fight as a great warrior, prophesyingnbsp;that he will not die in battle.

One of the favourite stories of Ilya� relates to his journey from his I parents� home in Murom to Vladimir�s court at Kiev, and his encounternbsp;� with Solovey the Robber, whom he overcomes and binds to his stirrup,nbsp;/ and takes as a prisoner to Kiev. Although frequently found at the courtnbsp;of Kiev, Ilya is not always on good terms with Vladimir. Anothernbsp;bylina 3 relates that Vladimir omits to invite Ilya to a feast, and that innbsp;consequence the Old Cossack goes through Kiev despoiling the churchesnbsp;of their gold ornaments, till Vladimir succeeds in conciliating him bynbsp;the most assiduous attentions.

The heroes of the Kiev Cycle are constantly represented as on good terms with the kal�ki, and as effecting a temporary exchange of garments

' Kir�evski, i. p. iff.; Chadwick, p. $7 ff. � Rybnikov, I. p. i$ ff.; Chadwick, p. 66 ff.nbsp;3 Gilferding, ii. p. 38 ff.; Chadwick, p. 61 ff.

45 with them in order to carry out their enterprises in disguise. An interesting example is the story�found in numerous versions�of thenbsp;encounter of Ilya of Murom with Idolishche, in which we are told thatnbsp;Ilya exchanges garments with a kal�ka, and goes to Jerusalem to slaynbsp;Idolishche who is destroying the Holy City and bullying the Emperornbsp;Constantine. We have already seen that a similar disguise is effected bynbsp;Alyosha Popovich in the bylina relating to his encounter with Tugarinnbsp;the dragon�s son (cf. p. 38 f. above). By means of this disguise he is ablenbsp;to approach his unsuspecting enemy at close quarters. In most versionsnbsp;of the story of Mikhailo Potyk, Ilya and his sworn brother Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich disguise themselves as kal�ki in order to visit the Lithuaniannbsp;prince. The motif is an interesting symbol of the history of these byliny,nbsp;whose heroic origin is thus effectively disguised in a non-heroic garb.nbsp;By this means the martial achievements are transformed into deeds ofnbsp;guile, and the heroes themselves are made directly dependent on thenbsp;good will and assistance of their ecclesiastical allies.

Rybnikov refers � to certain of the byliny3amp; babi stariny^ which he says the women are specially fond of singing, but which are less popularnbsp;among male singers. The examples which he cites from the Kiev Cyclenbsp;are Churilo Plenkovich and Katerina Mikulichna, generally known asnbsp;�The Death of Churilo�; Khoten Bludovich; and Ivan Godinovich.nbsp;Examples from later Cycles are Dimitri Vasilevich and Domna Aleksandrovna; Prince Mikhailo; Kastryuk; and Grishka and Marina. Thenbsp;name babi stariny recalls the \enske pjesme of the Yugoslavs, but thenbsp;two classes seem to have little in common, since the latter denotesnbsp;chiefly stories approximating to folk-tales in character, and resemblingnbsp;them also in that the heroes are, in general, virtually unnamed. Ram-baud, in referring to this passage from Rybnikov, translates the phrasenbsp;as �vieilles histoires de femmes�, and adds that they are stories in whichnbsp;�les femmes jouent en effet un r�le plus important, et qui, sans perdrenbsp;tout � fait le caract�re �pique, touchent cependant au fabliau�.�

Actually, babi stariny more probably signifies �women�s stories�, i.e. stories favoured by women, rather than stories about women.nbsp;Some of the examples cited, such as the �Death of Churilo Plenkovich�nbsp;approximate to the fabliau. On the other hand in other examples of babinbsp;stariny, such as the story of Kastryuk, the feminine interest is reduced tonbsp;the minimum. It may be pointed out also that all the � babi stariny' of thenbsp;Kiev Cycle cited here by Rybnikov, as well as the starina, or bylina ofnbsp;Kastryuk, are favourite subjects among the male singers also, as isnbsp;� Rybnikov, I. p. Ixxxii.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� R.�. p. 10.

shown by the number of versions recorded in Rybnikov�s own collection. On the whole, therefore, it would seem that no exclusive class of poems is indicated by Rybnikov�s remark, but merely the fact that thenbsp;women tend to favour stories and versions in which feminine interestsnbsp;are prominent, and that some of the male singers tend to deprecate thesenbsp;subjects in favour of sterner stuff. Perhaps we need not press the examples too far.

Recent researches carried on by the Sokolov brothers in the country formerly traversed by Rybnikov and Gilferding have tended to confirmnbsp;Rybnikov�s observations in regard to babi stariny. The Sokolovs foundnbsp;that the proportion of women reciters has greatly increased in recentnbsp;years, and they recorded a corresponding increase in the number ofnbsp;by liny or versions of byliny, in which feminine interest predominates:

�La voil� entree dans le repertoire f�minin, qui se compose surtout de chansons lyriques et de chansons de m�urs, et auquel l��pop�e estnbsp;�trang�re: elle n�y trouvera gu�re sa place dans la mesure o� ellenbsp;s�inspire d�une tradition belliqueuse et h�ro�que.�

The orientation of interest in the fyliny^ they tell us, has changed accordingly:

�Ce sont les bylines de contenu romanesque, r�alistes, famili�res, souvent du type des fabliaux, qui ont la faveur du moment, et non pas,nbsp;il fallait s�y attendre, les bylines racontant les exploits h�ro�ques desnbsp;bogatyrs... .11 est instructif de constater que la byline de Salomon etnbsp;Vasily Okulovich, celle de l�enl�vement de la femme de Salomon, toutenbsp;pleine d�intrigues et d�aventures, est enti�rement absente du recueil denbsp;Hilferding, alors que nous en avons entendu, pour notre part, 11 variantes.nbsp;La byline h�ro�que de Dobrynja et le Dragon, c�dant � la m�menbsp;tendance, a visiblement perdu de sa popularit�: nous n�en avons recueilli que 4 versions contre 9 de Hilferding.�

We will give here a brief account of three of Rybnikov�s ��babi stariny� belonging to the Kiev Cycle.

The bylina of Ivan Godinovich is an interesting instance of a story composed wholly of the elements which go to make a typical heroicnbsp;narrative. The story is preserved in many versions, which only differnbsp;slightly from one another in points of detail. In the version recited bynbsp;Trofim Romanov to Rybnikov,^ Ivan Godinovich, who is here andnbsp;elsewhere represented as Vladimir�s nephew,^ relates at a royal feast in

Kiev that he has been �across the glorious blue sea� to the city of Chernigov, to the white-stone palace of the merchant Dimitri to woo hisnbsp;daughter Nastasya, but that he has received a refusal. He begs fournbsp;hundred men and golden treasure wherewith to make a second offer,nbsp;and again he departs to Chernigov, only to be again refused. This time,nbsp;however, he is determined, and he makes his way to Nastasya�s apartmentnbsp;and carries her off by force. As he is departing with his bride, Dimitrinbsp;the merchant comes out and tells him that his daughter is already espousednbsp;to Koshchey the Immortal, who will cut off his rebellious head. Ivannbsp;replies with defiance, and rides away with speed, and on drawing nearnbsp;to Kiev he dispatches his troop of followers to the city, while he himselfnbsp;pitches his wWte tent to take his pleasure with Nastasya. But at thatnbsp;moment, like a storm sweeping, like thunder rumbling, Koshchey thenbsp;Immortal comes flying through the air. Koshchey roars with all hisnbsp;might, so that damp mother earth shakes, and the damp oaks tremble,nbsp;and he orders Ivan to come forth from his white tent. Ivan comes outnbsp;and addresses Koshchey as �evil flying crow�, and the heroes fight together for three hours, and then Ivan overcomes his enemy and sits onnbsp;his white breast, and he calls to Nastasya to hand him his steel daggernbsp;wherewith to dispatch his enemy; but at the same time Koshchey alsonbsp;calls to her, reminding her that if she marries Ivan her status will be thatnbsp;of a peasant, whereas if she marries him she will be a princess. Uponnbsp;hearing this Nastasya seizes Ivan by his yellow curls, and drags himnbsp;away from Koshchey. Then they tie Ivan to a damp oak and enter thenbsp;tent together. Meanwhile two doves perch on the oak above Ivan, andnbsp;begin to coo, and Koshchey asks Nastasya to hand him his bow andnbsp;arrow to shoot them. Nastasya complies, but begs him not to shoot thenbsp;doves, but to shoot Ivan. The arrow, however, instead of piercingnbsp;Ivan strikes the damp oak and rebounds into the heart of Koshchey himself. Then Nastasya approaches the damp oak, intending to cut off Ivan�snbsp;head herself, but her hand fails of its stroke, and instead she inadvertentlynbsp;severs the bonds wherewith Ivan is bound. No sooner is he freed thannbsp;he seizes Koshchey�s sharp sword in his hand and mutilates Nastasyanbsp;with the utmost savagery, after which he makes his way alone to Kiev,nbsp;and conveys to Vladimir the homage of the dead hero Koshchey. Thenbsp;cruel vengeance which Ivan takes on his bride is one of the rare cases innbsp;the byliny of extreme brutality practised on a woman.

The most important of the heroes of the habi stariny is Churilo Plenkovich, who is one of the most bizarre and attractive figures in thenbsp;strange assortment composing Vladimir�s court, and a favourite subject

of all the singers. Churilo, however, like many of the other heroes, is not a permanent resident at Kiev. His home, or rather that of his fathernbsp;Plenko, is some distance from Kiev. A delightful bylina of which therenbsp;are many versions, relates how, owing to the depredations made by thenbsp;�very young� Churilo and his dru^^hina on Vladimir�s property, Vladimirnbsp;visits him in his own home and invites him to serve a term as his seneschal in Kiev. We may interpret the invitation as a command, sincenbsp;Churilo goes unwillingly. But his yellow curls and fine clothes provenbsp;too distracting to the ladies of Kiev, and especially to the Princessnbsp;Apraxya, and Vladimir is glad to shorten his term of service and sendnbsp;him back to Old Plenko. A second bylina�one of the babi starinynbsp;mentioned above�is also current in several versions and relates tonbsp;Churilo�s death. This bylina has not been translated. It tells hownbsp;Churilo sets out one day dressed in his usual finery, his hood embroidered, his shoes of seven silks, his heels as sharp as awls. Thus arrayednbsp;Churilo arrives at the house of a certain Velma Vasilevich,� and enquiresnbsp;in a loud voice if the master is at home. His wife Katerinushka repliesnbsp;that he has gone to church, but invites the visitor in, and sets before himnbsp;sweet food and honeyed drinks, and then ensconces him in a bed ofnbsp;down. But Velma has a maid servant who sees that something is amiss.

The maiden ran to the Church of God, The maiden cried at the top of her voice:nbsp;�Alas, Velma Vasilevich!

You are standing, Velma, in the church of God, You are praying, Velma, to the Lord God,nbsp;You are bowing, Velma, to the damp earth.nbsp;You see not the misfortune which has come upon you.nbsp;You have at home an unwelcome guest.nbsp;Eating, and drinking, and taking his ease.nbsp;And diverting himself with your wife.�

The tone of light comedy which in all versions has characterised the career of Churilo now deserts him. Velma hurries home and is met bynbsp;his wife, who tries in vain to persuade her husband that Churilo s hatnbsp;belongs to her brother. Velma finds the hero lying fast asleep in his bed,nbsp;and with his sharp sabre he hews off his � turbulent head �.3

The bylina of Khoten Bludovich has not been translated into English. One of the best versions of the story given by Rybnikov is that sung bynbsp;Vasili Lazarev.�^ The bylina opens with a feast given by Vladimir to his

3 Rybnikov, ii. p. 415. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�� Rybnikov, 11. p. 15.

49 princes and boyars, at which two widows are present, the rich old ladynbsp;Chasova, and the less fortunate Bludova, mother of Khoten. Chasovanbsp;has a daughter Ofimya whose hand Bludova asks for her son in marriage ;nbsp;but the rich widow seizes her goblet of green wine and dashes it in hernbsp;face, saying that her daughter�s hand shall be for a prince or a boyar,nbsp;and not for Khoten:

Bludova leaves the feast abashed, and tells her son Khoten what has occurred, and how her mantle has been spoilt with the wine. Full ofnbsp;indignation Khoten rides to the house of Chasova, and is met by hernbsp;daughter who comes out on to her staircase and mocks him. He repliesnbsp;that if she will not marry him he will carry her off as a serf, and laysnbsp;about him with his steel club, destroying the property. Chasova isnbsp;obdurate. She hires mercenaries to oppose him, and also sends her ninenbsp;heroic sons against him, and Khoten arms himself and rides againstnbsp;them in the open plain, while the obdurate Chasova watches the proceedings through a telescope. When she sees her sons overcome, shenbsp;runs to her �brother�. Prince Vladimir, and begs the help of the princesnbsp;and boyars at the feast. In some versions Vladimir lends her some troops,nbsp;but these also are defeated. Finally Vladimir is fain to offer Chasova�snbsp;daughter to Khoten in marriage. But Khoten is not easily appeased, andnbsp;the humiliated Chasova has to load forty carts with gold and silver andnbsp;bring these and other treasure to Khoten before he at last consents tonbsp;take her daughter in honourable marriage. In general the variousnbsp;versions� of this story recorded by Rybnikov differ little except innbsp;detail. In the version sung by Ryabinin, however, Ofimya welcomes thenbsp;arrival of Khoten and gladly consents to become his wife.

Before leaving the Kiev Cycle mention must be made of the bylina of Tsar Kalin, which relates to the last great battle of the heroes of Kievnbsp;against their Tatar foes. The bylina is one of foe most popular with foenbsp;singers, and exists in a number of variant versions. These versionsnbsp;differ considerably among themselves, but they are in general agreement in regard to the main theme of the story, which relates the descentnbsp;of a vast Tatar host on the city of Kiev, the challenge sent by the Tatarnbsp;leader to Vladimir, Vladimir�s appeal to his bogatyri to defend Kiev,nbsp;and the heroic prowess of one, or sometimes three, or seven, of the

� For a summary of the contents of some of the variants, see Magnus, Ballads, p. io6.

hogatyri who attack the Tatar host. It is chiefly in the identity of the bogatyri who fight the Tatars that the variants occur. Very frequentlynbsp;the hero who shows most courage is Ilya of Murom; but in severalnbsp;versions the credit is given by a strange anachronism to Ermak Timofeevich, the intrepid youth who gained fame for his victory overnbsp;Mahmetkoul and the capture of his capital Sibir in 1582.

Both Ilya and Ermak are at times represented as encountering the Tatars single-handed. When Ermak is the hero, other heroes linger atnbsp;a distance, unaware that he has ventured forth alone to encounter thenbsp;Tatar army. The reciter, Kuzma Romanov,^ represents Ilya of Murom,nbsp;Dobrynya Nikitich, and Alyosha Popovich as waiting together, andnbsp;Ilya sends Dobrynya to try to dissuade Ermak from attacking the host.nbsp;The version breaks off at this point; but in the parallel version ofnbsp;Nikifor Prokhorov,� Ilya�s companions, Dobrynya Nikitich and Mik-hailo Potyk, ride together to the Tatar host to seek Ermak, and Ilyanbsp;succeeds in overcoming and dismembering Tsar Kalin. In the versionnbsp;sung by Trofim Romanov,^ Ilya rides alone to Tsar Kalin andnbsp;obtains a brief respite in which to make preparations, and then rides tonbsp;the Faraonski Mountains to seek the hero Samson Manoilovich, who isnbsp;represented in this bylina as his uncle.'^ Samson delays, and Ilya ridesnbsp;alone against the Tatar host; and as he is encountering the host at theirnbsp;last entrenchment his horse falls into the trench. Though the horsenbsp;succeeds in making good his own escape, Ilya is taken prisoner andnbsp;bound. As the Tatars are about to cut off his head Samson rides upnbsp;with his dru^^hina and rescues his nephew, overcoming the Tatars. Innbsp;this version Tugarin, who is here simply described as a �pagan Tatar�nbsp;of great strength, is employed by Tsar Kalin (in this version Kain) asnbsp;his envoy.

A third Cycle, which cannot properly be called heroic, relates to � heroes � of a different period and a very different politicalnbsp;milieu�the citizens of the wealthy trading city-state of Novgorod.nbsp;This is a much smaller Cycle, chieffy occupied with the adventuresnbsp;of only two important heroes, Sadko the �rich merchant�, and Vasilinbsp;Buslaev. Of these the former must have been a very popular hero,nbsp;since a large number of byliny are extant in which he is the leadingnbsp;figure. Other byliny�those of Terenti Danilovich, commonly known

The term used (dyadyushkd) need not be pressed to imply actual blood relationship; but this seems nevertheless to be implied, since Samson refers to Ilya as his nephew {plemyannichek).

51 as Terenti Cost, �Terence the Merchant�, and of Akundin�appear tonbsp;have been little sung by minstrels. The story of Terenti seems to benbsp;derived ultimately from a French source�', but the setting and milieu arenbsp;local and belong to Novgorod. The bylina^ relates a humorous domesticnbsp;contretemps of bourgeois life. Although heroic in metre and�to somenbsp;extent�in style, it is quite Chaucerian in atmosphere and plot, and in itsnbsp;attitude to women. Like Sadko it presents a lively picture of the wealthnbsp;and activity of Novgorod at the height of her prosperity.

The atmosphere and style of this Cycle as a whole differ considerably from those of the Kiev Cycle. They offer a relatively larger range ofnbsp;episode, increasing the number of incidents and narrating them innbsp;summary form. While retaining many of the characteristics of heroicnbsp;narrative, the framework of the story is drawing closer to the style ofnbsp;the medieval metrical romances. Terence the merchant is frankly bourgeois in character. Like Sadko, Vasili Buslaev belongs to the burghernbsp;class, and his exploits reflect the clashing interests of a rich trading community. In passing from the combats of the Kiev heroes to those ofnbsp;Vasili Buslaev, we pass from the single combats of Homer or Beowulfnbsp;to the encounters of the Montagues and Capulets in the streets of Verona.nbsp;Moreover a new element has entered into these poems�the element ofnbsp;burlesque. The reciter of the Novgorod byliny does not regard hisnbsp;hero seriously, and even the Church is not exempted from satire. Thenbsp;treatment of Vasili and his exploits is invariably playful in tone, whilenbsp;in some versions his godfather the monk appears wearing the bell of thenbsp;cathedral of St Sophia as a helmet, and using the clapper as a walking-stick.3

The variant versions of the story of Sadko differ considerably in detail; but the main outline and order of the episodes which constitutenbsp;the bylina can be ascertained with tolerable certainty. The most complete versions on the whole are those recited by Sorokin to Rybnikovnbsp;and Gilferding.'^ These vary somewhat in length,5 but the contents arenbsp;substantially the same.

This bylina relates how Sadko comes by the riches with which he is enabled to undertake his trading enterprises. In early life he is a poornbsp;man who goes about to banquets held in the city of Novgorod, and enter-

An excellent version of this bylina was recorded by Kirsha Danilov. Kir�evski, V. p. 54 f.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 See S.R. in. p. 56.

5 The version recorded by Rybnikov consists of 387 lines; that by Gilferding of 601 lines.

52 nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;RUSSIAN ORAL LITERATURE

tains the guests by playing on his guslid At last a day comes when he is no longer invited to play at the feast. Again and again this happens,nbsp;and each time the musician repairs to the shore of Lake Ilmen, and sitsnbsp;on a stone and plays his gusli in solitude. One day as he plays, the lakenbsp;suddenly becomes rough, and the tsar morskoy, the �tsar of the sea�,nbsp;appears and thanks Sadko for his music. He tells Sadko that he hasnbsp;been giving a great banquet, and that Sadko�s minstrelsy has givennbsp;great delight and entertainment to his guests. He promises to rewardnbsp;him richly, and advises Sadko to lay a wager with the citizens of Novgorod, staking his head against all their riches, that he will catch fishnbsp;of pure gold in Lake Ilmen, and with these the tsar of the sea undertakes to furnish him. It is with this wealth won by his wager that Sadkonbsp;is enabled to build for himself his fine fleet of thirty �falcon ships�.

This same bylina, and others recited by Leonty Bogdanov^ and by Fedotov 3 to Rybnikov, relate how Sadko commands his dru^hina tonbsp;take golden treasure and buy up all the merchandise in Novgorod; andnbsp;when Novgorod is completely empty Sadko has ships built and loaded,nbsp;and he and his druihina sail away over the blue sea. What follows isnbsp;related with only slight variation in many versions, and the versionnbsp;recorded by Kirsha Danilov has been translated into English elsewhere.'^nbsp;Sadko and his thirty ships sail away on trading ventures; but whilenbsp;twenty-nine ships sail before a favourable breeze, Sadko�s vessel liesnbsp;becalmed and motionless. Sadko suggests that lots shall be cast tonbsp;discover which of the crew is the cause of the unfavourable conditions,nbsp;and the lot falls upon Sadko himself. Accordingly the silver gangway isnbsp;lowered, and Sadko takes his resounding gusli and his precious goldennbsp;carved chessmen, and he seats himself on his chessboard, and the crewnbsp;lower him into the blue sea, and the ship speeds on its way like a whitenbsp;hawk. In the version recited by Vasili Lazarev, Sadko also carries in hisnbsp;right hand the image of St Nikolai.5 Presently Sadko finds himself innbsp;the dwelling of the tsar of the sea with whom he remains for twelvenbsp;years. At the end of that time his host commands him to play on hisnbsp;resounding gusli, so that he may dance to his music; but St Nikolainbsp;appears to Sadko in a dream, and bids him cast away his gusli, for hisnbsp;music and the tsar�s dancing have rendered the sea rough, causing manynbsp;wrecks and much loss of life. Eventually by carefully observing thesenbsp;and other commands of the saint, Sadko finds himself on the bank of the

� Rybnikov, I. p. 332 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 p_ g-,

* Chadwick, p. 134 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Rybnikov, 11. p. 27.

53 River Volkhov, close to Novgorod, just as his fleet sails into port ladennbsp;with wealth.

Kirsha Danilov has also recorded another version of this bylina in which Sadko appears as a stranger from the region of the Volga, whonbsp;comes to Novgorod to seek his fortune in trade. As he leaves the Volga,nbsp;the river begs him to convey her greetings to her brother. Lake Ilmen.nbsp;Accordingly on his arrival in Novgorod he goes to the lake and recitesnbsp;his message, whereupon a fine youth appears to him from Lake Ilmennbsp;and asks who he is. On learning that the hero has spent twelve years onnbsp;the Volga, and knows the river from source to mouth, he gives himnbsp;advice similar to that which is given in other versions by the tsar of thenbsp;sea, and by carefully observing it Sadko is similarly enriched so that he isnbsp;enabled to purchase all the goods in Novgorod and build three churches.nbsp;The tsar morskoy is absent from this version of the story, and there is nonbsp;hint of Sadko as a musician. Speranski � regards this as representing thenbsp;original form of the story.

Despite the fact that the two great Novgorod heroes are ascribed to the same century, the atmosphere of the bylina of Vasili Buslaev is verynbsp;different from that of Sadko. Mythology, romance, folk-tale�whatevernbsp;it is that endows the great Novgorod merchant with so much glamournbsp;and mystery�are absent from the account of Vasili�s exploits. Instead we have a realistic setting in the city, and a clumsy, powerfulnbsp;hero, a figure of burlesque, despite the piety of his latter days.

The bylina of Vasili Buslaev consists of two stories which are virtually independent of one another, though they are occasionally found combined in a single poem. The first tells of the early life of the hero in hisnbsp;native city of Novgorod of which his father was tysyatski or posadnik,nbsp;� governor,� during his lifetime ; the second, of his pilgrimage to Jerusalemnbsp;for the purpose of expiating his own sins and arranging for prayers fornbsp;the souls of himself and his relatives. Both stories are found widespreadnbsp;in the north of Russia in Europe, and are also to be found in the collectionnbsp;of Kirsha Danilov from Perm; but the story which relates the early lifenbsp;of the hero is the more popular of the two. The versions of this bylinanbsp;of Vasili�s life in Novgorod as recorded by both Kirsha Danilov,3 andnbsp;also by Fedotov of Olonets,'^ have been translated into English. 5nbsp;Kirsha�s version of Vasili�s pilgrimage will be found in the Englishnbsp;version given by Hapgood.^

The bylina of Vasili�s early life, and his exploits in Novgorod as � Kir�evski, v. p. 47.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� R.U.S. p. 291.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Kir�evski, v. p. 14 ff.

recorded by Rybnikov from the recitation of Fedotov, opens with the death of old Buslaev, and the early education of young Vasili, who isnbsp;brought up under the care of his mother. Early in life he begins to shownbsp;his unruly nature, and even in his youth his habits when playing withnbsp;other children are such as to cause consternation to parents :

Whoever he seized by the arm, that arm came off at the shoulder; Whoever he caught by the leg, that leg was no more.

He collects a dru�:{hina from among the townspeople and tlie local gentry�apparently a somewhat motley crew�and with these he goesnbsp;as an uninvited guest to a feast given by the citizens of Novgorod.nbsp;During the course of the evening he lays a wager with the citizens thatnbsp;he and his dru'^ina will defend the bridge over the Volkhov againstnbsp;them all on the following day. His mother does her best to undonbsp;her son�s foolish boast, but in vain. The citizens, who have their ownnbsp;grievances against her truculent son, welcome this opportunity to paynbsp;off old scores. The combat accordingly takes place, and is generallynbsp;described with much humour and verve. Vasili lays about him with hisnbsp;club of red elm wood :

Where he struck, a street was formed through the fallen. Where he brandished his club, a lane was made.

Panic-Stricken, the citizens run to Vasili�s mother, begging her to control her son. Then his �heroic� mother makes haste after the manner of the

byliny.

She thrust her shoes on to her bare feet. Flung her sable cloak over one shoulder.nbsp;And sped to the bank of the Volkhov.

Here she flings her cloak over her son, or, according to some versions, pinions him from behind with her arms, and bears him off to his ownnbsp;home, to the relief of the entire city.

The second lylina^ as recorded by Kirsha Danilov,^ opens with a picture of Vasili�s ship at rest on Lake Ilmen, while Vasili and hisnbsp;drit^hina go ashore to take leave of the hero�s mother before setting offnbsp;on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The widow gladly speeds them on theirnbsp;way, for the cause is good, and she supplies Aem with all their needs fornbsp;the journey. There is a covert reproach for many past misdeeds in her

Vasili and his dru^hina sail away, and when they come to the Sorochinsk! � mountain Vasili kicks a skull, which thereupon protests against his contemptuous act, and tells him that he shall himself benbsp;buried on the same spot. On the top of the mountain is a stone bearingnbsp;an inscription to the effect that whoever shall amuse himself by leapingnbsp;from end to end of the stone shall break his turbulent head thereon.nbsp;Vasili and his dru^hina amuse themselves by leaping across it from sidenbsp;to side only, and then proceed on their journey, passing through thenbsp;Cossack community on the Caspian, and at last come to Jerusalem.nbsp;Here Vasili serves masses for his own soul and those of his parents, andnbsp;says prayers for the good bold youths who have robbed and slain, andnbsp;then sets out on his homeward way. When he comes to the Sorochinsk!nbsp;mountain he cannot resist the temptation of climbing it once morenbsp;and leaping over the stone, this time from end to end ; but in doing so henbsp;falls and breaks his turbulent head, and his brave dTU�:{hina bury him onnbsp;the spot where the skull lies, and return sadly to Novgorod to bear thenbsp;tidings to Vasili�s mother. The similarity of the incident of the skull tonbsp;the account of the death of Oleg in 912 as related in the Ancient Chronicle,nbsp;and to that of the death of Orvar-Oddr in the Norse saga which bearsnbsp;his name is very striking.

In Kirsha Danilov�s version we can discern an attempt to transform Vasili into a reputable figure. According to this he was taught both tonbsp;read and to write in his youth, as well as to sing church music. In allnbsp;Novgorod there was not his equal in church singing, till he took to evilnbsp;pursuits. Even then Kirsha is careful to tell us that his hero makesnbsp;liberal contributions to the tradesmen�s guild on the vigil of St Nikolai.nbsp;Moreover he does not wish to quarrel with the citizens at the vigil feast.nbsp;Indeed he tries to part the combatants; but they box his ears. This isnbsp;recognisably the same hero who in later life makes the pilgrimage tonbsp;Jerusalem in order to expiate his past sins and to pray for the souls of thenbsp;living and the dead.

Vasili Buslaev, as we have said, belongs to the burgher class, and the bylina of which he is the hero reflects vividly the party feeling andnbsp;stormy politics which were a prominent feature of the city life of thenbsp;rich trading republic during the Middle Ages. His exploits are of a lessnbsp;romantic nature than those of Sadko, and in his early life partake of thenbsp;nature of street brawls between himself and his dru^hina on the one hand,nbsp;and groups of truculent citizens on the other. In contrast to the hyliny of

* Lit. �Hill of the Saracens�, one of the many static �heroic� localities which hav; not been identified.

Sadko supernatural elements are very slight, save in the folk-motifs introduced into the account of Vasili�s foreign travels. Instead we findnbsp;humorous exaggeration, and the treatment of the hero partakes largelynbsp;of the nature of burlesque, though these features vary according to thenbsp;taste and personality of the reciters. Despite its humorous character,nbsp;the bylina which relates to Vasili�s life in Novgorod perhaps containsnbsp;more local colour and local interest than any other of the early byliny,nbsp;and its hero is the most completely individualised. These elements arenbsp;almost absent from the bylina which relates Vasili�s journey to Jerusalem.nbsp;In the latter the elements borrowed from folk-tale, and the strong moralnbsp;tone differentiate this poem wholly from the first. This is particularlynbsp;striking in the series of portents which the hero encounters and whichnbsp;lay a series of tabus upon him. It is the violation of these tabus whichnbsp;brings the hero to his death. All these elements�the individualism,nbsp;the local colour, and the humour in the first bylina, and the moralnbsp;tendency of the second�are definitely post-heroic, though the conventions are those of heroic poetry throughout. The combination hasnbsp;resulted in a delightful mock-heroic poem, unique in Russian popularnbsp;literature.

It is a curious fact that we have hardly any byliny which can be attributed with even approximate certainty to the period interveningnbsp;between the twelfth and the sixteenth centuries. During almost thenbsp;whole of this long period Russia was under the Tatar rule. As ifnbsp;conscious of the strange blank in their oral poetical record, the popularnbsp;poets have brought the heroes of the Kiev Cycle into touch with thenbsp;Tatars, more especially with their khans Batu, Mamai, and the Goldennbsp;Horde in general. The anachronism is the more strange in view of thenbsp;consistency with which, in general, the byliny Cycles are kept apart.nbsp;We have already referred to the bylina in which Mikhailo Potyk cheatsnbsp;the Tatar �Tsar Bukhar� of his tribute, and to that of Vasili Kazimirovich, in which three heroes from Kiev, sent by Vladimir with tribute tonbsp;Tsar Batu in the Great Horde, are represented as vanquishing thenbsp;Tatars in various trials of skill, and returning to Kiev without payingnbsp;any tribute. In the Siberian version of the bylina of Tsar Kalin thenbsp;heroes of Kiev are all slain by the Tatars under their ruler Kalin, and sonbsp;the Cycle comes to an end. The popular singers make no distinctionnbsp;between the Polovtsy raiders of the eleventh and twelfth centuries,nbsp;and the Tatars or Mongols who overran Russia in the thirteenthnbsp;century.

57 This is the bylina known as �The Princes of Tver�, which relates tonbsp;Shchel Kan Dudentevich, who was made bashkak, or tax-collector for thenbsp;Tatars by their Khan Azvyak, and who was massacred by the citizensnbsp;of Tver in 1327/ The incident is related in a straightforward and literalnbsp;manner. The absence of epic features, especially epic diction, and thenbsp;sobriety and restraint of this poem, are in striking contrast to the bylinynbsp;of the Kiev and Novgorod Cycles.

A small number of byliny have been regarded as having reference to heroes of the principalities of Russia during this period. It is true thatnbsp;the heroes bear names which can be found among these princes; but thenbsp;names themselves are, for the most part, such as are in common use,nbsp;while the byliny themselves are brief and slight in content. They narratenbsp;a single incident, or series of incidents, in summary form, and resemblenbsp;byliny which relate to unspecified individuals (cf. p. 219 below). Thenbsp;byliny on Prince Dimitri,� Prince Vasili,3 and the bylina which relatesnbsp;how the mother of Prince Mikhailo murders his young wife during hisnbsp;absence,4 belong rather to the milieu of folk-tale and folk-song than tonbsp;that of heroic poetry,^ and the occurrence of the names of well-knownnbsp;medieval princes carries no conviction, and adds no impression of verisimilitude to the bizarre contents. A little bylina on the death of Princenbsp;Mikhailo apparently belongs to the same series.

Similar in character are some of the byliny on Prince Roman and the bylina on Prince Danilo, who have been identified with some probabilitynbsp;as Roman and Daniel, the two famous rulers of Galicia, who lived at thenbsp;close of the twelfth and during the first half of the thirteenth centuries.nbsp;More recent opinion favours an identification of Prince Roman with anbsp;Livonian prince who lived during the second half of the thirteenthnbsp;century. This identification will be discussed later (p. 127 below).nbsp;The bylina on Prince Danilo relates that a certain Prince Danilo tries tonbsp;make himself popular among the young girls in order that they maynbsp;compose favourable songs about him; but instead they deride him, andnbsp;when he orders them to be punished the people rise and slay him. Thenbsp;poem is interesting on account of the reference which it contains to the

* Kireevski, v. p. i86; Dormidontov, p. 225. See Solovev, col. 1314 f. A translation of the poem is given by Chadwick, p. 159 ff.

� Kireevski, v. p. 63 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 /J. p. 66 f.

3 Translations of these poems and those next to be considered will be found in Chadwick, p. 164 ff. Brief mention is made of them by Rambaud, R.E. p. 234 f.

singing of popular narrative poetry (^p�sn�) by troops of girls (cf. p. 261 below).

The most interesting of the byliny associated with Prince Roman� and indeed, perhaps the most interesting of the byliny generally regarded as relating to this period�is that which tells of his warfare withnbsp;the two Lithuanian princes, nephews of King Tsimbal. The story isnbsp;actually told of a Prince Roman of Moscow; but, as Rambaud pointsnbsp;out, there never was a Prince Roman of Moscow at any time, and it isnbsp;probable that the Roman in question is one of the medieval princes ofnbsp;this name. The bylina is too long to be related here. The reader isnbsp;referred to the excellent paraphrase by Rambaud (R.�., p. 236 if.). Twonbsp;other byliny on Prince Roman are discussed in the chapter on � Thenbsp;Texts�.

These so-called �medieval byliny' belong to a different literary tradition from either the �Older Cycle� or the Kiev and Novgorodnbsp;Cycles. The difference of their diction and style is apparent even innbsp;translations. Moreover they share common characteristics of their own,nbsp;both in regard to diction and style, which suggests that they originatednbsp;in a common poetic milieu. These characteristics may best be summednbsp;up as simplicity, brevity and literalness, though exception must be made,nbsp;as suggested above, for certain of the byliny relating to Prince Roman.nbsp;We shall see presently that these characteristics are shared by thenbsp;Muscovite school of the seventeenth century.

It is believed that the Cycle of songs relating to the Cossacks of the Don and Volga also began during the medieval period, though the bestnbsp;known early examples are those which are concerned with Ermaknbsp;. Timofeevich, the Conqueror of Siberia,� who was drowned in thenbsp;R. Irtish in 1584. The byliny which narrate the exploits of the Cossacksnbsp;of the Don and Volga are scarcely separate from those of the Moscownbsp;Cycle (cf. p. 59 below). Their form is the same, and the same characteristics sometimes appear, owing to the close historical relations of thenbsp;Don and Volga Cossacks with the Muscovite rulers, especially after thenbsp;capture of Kazan from the Tatars in 1552. The Cossack poems are remarkable, however, for their fidelity to history. The authentic exploitsnbsp;of such adventurers as Ermak in the sixteenth, Stenka Razin in thenbsp;seventeenth, and Pugachev in the eighteenth centuries left little to benbsp;desired in the way of incident, even by the most accomplished minstrelnbsp;or the most exacting audience. But indeed it may be said of the bylinynbsp;as a whole that each fresh Cycle becomes progressively nearer to his-' Kir�evski, vi. p. 36 fF.; Chadwick, p. 199 ff.

59 torical fact as it approaches our own time, though the atmosphere ofnbsp;the poems becomes further and further removed from that of the court.nbsp;The Princely Cycle of Moscow undoubtedly reached its highestnbsp;development in the time of Ivan the Terrible, who ruled at Moscow fromnbsp;1533 to 1584, and who, like Vladimir, has become the central figure of anbsp;wide circle of narrative byliny. The novel offensive of Ivan�s strugglenbsp;against the Tatars, and the romance of the Conquest of Siberia by anbsp;handful of heroic adventurers, are in themselves sufficiently akin to thenbsp;bizarre adventures of Vladimir�s own community on the Dnepr to fitnbsp;naturally into the old framework and to wear naturally the old dress.�nbsp;The Muscovite byliny, however, at times keep surprisingly close to fact,nbsp;and the spirited bylina which relates the capture of the town of Kazan,^nbsp;the great Tatar stronghold in Russia, in 15 52, reads almost like a versifiednbsp;dispatch or war bulletin. A bylina composed in a more exalted andnbsp;artificial style relates a successful expedition undertaken by the greatnbsp;boyar, Boris Godunov, and the tsarevich, Fedor Ivanovich, against annbsp;invading army of Tatars from the Crimea under their Khan Devlet-Girei in 1571.3 In a brief bylina of 34 lines the poet manages to narratenbsp;or suggest the high hopes of the �mighty cloud� of Tatars and theirnbsp;ignominious discomfiture and flight. The crispness and terseness of itsnbsp;aphoristic style is perhaps due in part to the fact that it was written downnbsp;only forty-five years after the actual event.

The bylina on Ermak the Cossack and the Conquest of Siberia perhaps reaches the highest level of the warlike byliny of this period.nbsp;Few, if any, of the versions preserved are complete.^ Yet even in theirnbsp;fragmentary or abridged form one is struck by the martial spirit, thenbsp;reckless daring of the little band of Cossack freebooters, outlawed fornbsp;their deeds of violence.

I will tuck my cap of marten-skin under my arm, I will offer submission to the White Tsar;�nbsp;�O you are our hope. Orthodox Tsar!

� See the series of versions of the bylina on �Ermak the Cossack, Conqueror of Siberia� published by Kireevski, vi. p. 39 ff.

The version published by Kir�evski, vi. p. 39 ff. has been translated by Chadwick, p. 199 ff.

And with my rebellious head I bring you the Empire of Siberia.� Then our hope, our Orthodox Tsar begins to speak^nbsp;The terrible tsar, Ivan Vasilevich:nbsp;�Hearken, Ermak Timofeevich!

Ivan�s many matrimonial alliances, and the consequent arrival of strangers at his court, give ample scope for the introduction of many ofnbsp;the static motifs of the byliny of the Kiev Cycle�the �honourablenbsp;feast�, the rivalry between the native dru^hina and the guests, withnbsp;boasting, challenges, and single combats. The bylina of Kastryuk^nbsp;relates the marriage of the tsar Ivan Vasilevich to the Circassian princess, Marya Temryukovna. It is generally included, as we have alreadynbsp;seen, among the babi stariny (cf. p. 45 above), though the femininenbsp;interest in the story is little developed, the chief part being played bynbsp;the bride�s brother Kastryuk. Kastryuk sits sulking at the marriagenbsp;feast, and casting a gloom over the proceedings, till the tsar asks thenbsp;cause, when Kastryuk replies that he wishes to challenge a Muscovite tonbsp;wrestle with him. The tsar has the challenge proclaimed, but onlynbsp;opponents of low rank come forward. Their names vary considerably innbsp;different versions. In some versions Kastryuk successfully overcomesnbsp;one or two of these opponents before he is finally subdued ; in others thenbsp;first Muscovite who tackles him throws him over the roof. In allnbsp;versions the boastful Circassian is overcome by the Muscovites andnbsp;stripped ignominiously. It is a typical heroic story save for one or twonbsp;humorous touches, and in all versions resembles the byliny of the Kievnbsp;Cycle so closely that if the proper names were changed it might passnbsp;for a story of one of Vladimir�s feasts. The subject of the story alsonbsp;recalls the story told in the Ancient Chronicle of the young Pecheneg

� Many versions of this bylina have been recorded in all the big collections. It has not been translated into English; but some extracts have been translated into Frenchnbsp;by Rambaud, R.�. p. 254 ff., where some account of variants will also be found.

6l who challenged a member of Vladimir�s druyjiina to wrestle with him.nbsp;None of Vladimir�s men were found who were willing to volunteer, andnbsp;the king was in despair, when an old serving-man of his householdnbsp;came forward and volunteered that his youngest son should be brought.nbsp;His strength was such, he said, that he would be able to overcome thenbsp;Pecheneg. Vladimirconsented joyfully, and the young peasant overcamenbsp;the foe of royal Kiev, and was taken into Vladimir�s dTW{fiinad

This affinity of the bylina of Kastryuk with the Kiev Cycle is the more remarkable since the marriage which it celebrates is a historical fact, andnbsp;the bylina has preserved many authentic details.� Ivan IV married as hisnbsp;second wife�

Not one of us in holy Russia, Not one of us in stone-built Moscow,nbsp;But one from a heathen land.nbsp;The land of the Circassians,nbsp;Marya Kastryukovna,nbsp;Marya Temryukovna,nbsp;Receiving as her marriage portionnbsp;Three hundred Tatars, and five hundred Don Cossacks.3

Marya was the daughter of Temryuk, a Circassian prince. She was a Mussulman, baptised on the eve of her marriage, and she brought withnbsp;her her brother, the fierce Kastryuk. These Circassians, whom thenbsp;singers do not distinguish from Tatars, were hated by the Muscovites,nbsp;and Kastryuk was impaled later on the charge of having poisoned Ivan�snbsp;third wife. This strange marriage of Ivan with the barbarian princess,nbsp;and the advent of her entourage at Moscow, must have supplied admirable material for epic poetry, and the wrestling match which forms thenbsp;central theme of the bylina on this royal marriage may well reflect thenbsp;kind of entertainments which took place on the occasion.

One of the most picturesque byliny of this picturesque Cycle is the one which generally bears the title: �The Tsar resolves to slay hisnbsp;son�.'* In actual fact Ivan the Terrible accidentally slew his eldest sonnbsp;in 1581 during a momentary burst of anger, though in the bylina he isnbsp;represented as deliberately ordering the execution of his son as a penaltynbsp;for treason.

In this Cycle, in addition to pure narrative byliny, we find poetry in which a single emotional situation is portrayed in detail. These poemsnbsp;' Ancient Chronicle, p. 102.

� For an account of die historical background of this bylina, see Rambaud, R.E. p. 254 f.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Rybnikov, ii, p. 568.

are generally largely occupied with speeches, not unfrequently a monologue, sometimes a dialogue, though there is generally a brief narrative introduction, and very frequently a few lines of narrative are introducednbsp;again between the speeches. The affinities are therefore with the poetrynbsp;of Type B, though the form appears to be derived ultimately from poetrynbsp;of Type E. Poems of this kind very frequently purport to be spokennbsp;by a woman. As an example we may refer to the bylina entitled � Thenbsp;Tsar sends the Tsaritsa into a Convent which opens with the announcement that the tsar is banishing the tsaritsa to a convent, and then passesnbsp;to a dialogue between the tsaritsa and the grooms who are about tonbsp;drive her away, and concludes with an account of the arrival of thenbsp;tsaritsa at the convent, and her address to the abbess and nuns. Apartnbsp;from their brevity the chief respect in which these poems differ fromnbsp;narrative poetry is that they are composed almost entirely in the presentnbsp;tense.

Anumber of poems of Type D date from this period, especially elegies. The bylina composed on the �Death of the Terrible Tsar Ivan Vasilevich�^ describes the scene in the Uspenski Cathedral, the tolling of thenbsp;great bell, the assembling of the princes and boyars before the newnbsp;coffin of cypress-wood in which lies the body of the dead tsar.

At his head stands the life-giving cross. Beside the cross lies his royal crown.nbsp;At his feet his sharp, terrible sword.nbsp;To the life-giving cross each makes his prayer.nbsp;To the golden crown each makes his bow;nbsp;Each looks at the terrible sword, each feels dread.

This particular poem contains no speeches, but the majority of the elegiac poems of this and succeeding centuries, like the poems ofnbsp;Type B just referred to, consist of speeches, generally introduced bynbsp;a few lines of narrative. These elegies fall for the most part intonbsp;two classes. The first consists of elegies purporting to be recited bynbsp;widows, such as the �Lament of the Tsaritsa for the death of Ivan thenbsp;Terrible�.3 We shall see presently that similar elegies are attributed tonbsp;successive tsaritsas down to our own day, and that the form of suchnbsp;elegies does not differ essentially from certain elegies attributed to widowsnbsp;whose names are unrecorded (cf. p. 162 below). These Russian elegiesnbsp;differ from laments ascribed to widows in Irish and Greek literature

� Kir�evski, vi. p. 202 f. ; Chadwick, p. 203 f. � Kir�evski, vi. p. 206; Chadwick, p. 206.nbsp;3 Kir�evski, vi. p. 207; Chadwick, p. 208 if.

63 in that they contain a slight narrative element. The second class ofnbsp;elegies consists of byliny purporting to be recited by the troops, such asnbsp;the �Lament of the troops on the death of Ivan the Terrible�.^ Thisnbsp;elegy, like the one mentioned above, is the first of a long series of martialnbsp;laments for dead tsars. Like the former elegy, also, it resembles closelynbsp;elegies recited in memory of unnamed individuals, and doubtlessnbsp;embodies a certain ritual element. We know of no close parallel for thesenbsp;martial laments in Greek, Celtic, or Teutonic literature, but the description of the funeral obsequies for Beowulf makes it not improbable thatnbsp;such poetry may have been in existence among the heathen Angles andnbsp;Saxons.

Both narrative poetry and short objective poems of situation composed in the present tense, are found throughout the Period of Troubles and the reigns of the Romanovs, but examples are not very numerous,nbsp;the entire collection occupying less than a hundred pages in Kir�evski�snbsp;collection.� Moreover very few extend to a hundred lines, and thenbsp;majority are much shorter. The commonest type of poem is one innbsp;which the poet celebrates a contemporary event�generally a momentous or tragic situation�by narrating it in the present tense as if it werenbsp;actually in progress. In these brief poems the old heroic metre is stillnbsp;kept, and also, in a large measure, the diction. In the attitude of thenbsp;poet to his subject, however, a change is noticeable. The events andnbsp;characters are not always lifted on to the same exalted plain as in thenbsp;earlier byliny. The heroic spirit has given place to a spirit of criticism,nbsp;often of frank censure. The adjective slavny, � glorious �, � exalted �, appliednbsp;to all heroes of the earlier byliny^ is at this period often replaced by {Zqy,nbsp;� evil �, � accursed �, � wicked �, which is even applied to crowned heads suchnbsp;as Boris Godunov. In this period it is a static epithet of the boyars.

In these byliny on the political troubles of the early seventeenth century the atmosphere is post-heroic. They represent the views ofnbsp;the Muscovite citizens on contemporary events. They are astonishinglynbsp;outspoken. Many of them read like articles from an evening paper in anbsp;country where censorship of the Press is unknown. Nothing couldnbsp;illustrate better than these byliny the change which came over thenbsp;political situation in the period following the death of Ivan the Terrible.nbsp;The old autocracy has gone, the unity, stability, and oppressive rule ofnbsp;the old tsarist r�gime. The bourgeoisie has become a power and articulate; but it is not as yet stabilised. We shall have occasion to returnnbsp;to these post-heroic poems later.

' Kir�evski, VI. p. 212; Chadwick, p. 210. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Kir�evski, vu. p. i ff.

Poems of Type B are not rare in this period. The Lament or Laments � of Ksenya, daughter of Boris Godunov, are simple monologues introduced by two lines of statement:

The little bird laments. The little white quail:nbsp;�Alas that I so young must mourn,� etc,

The daughter of Boris Godunov: �O God, merciful Saviour!nbsp;Why hast Thou overturned our throne.�� etc.

This type of bylina^ like its prototypes of the sixteenth century, consists largely of speeches, most commonly, though not exclusively, purportingnbsp;to be recited by women. It may be doubted if the form was really newnbsp;even in the sixteenth century. The second version of the Lament ofnbsp;Ksenya is so similar in form to the �Lament of Yaroslavna� contained innbsp;the Slovo o Polky Igorev� that we may suspect the type to have had anbsp;continuous history.

It is impossible to be certain how far the elegiac and personal poetry of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was actually composed bynbsp;the people who purport to be the speakers. We know that in modernnbsp;times similar poems composed by private individuals sometimes achievenbsp;a wide circulation (cf. p. 288 below). On the other hand, the majoritynbsp;of the poems of this period, such as the laments on the tsars, havenbsp;the appearance of obituary and �Press� notices, and were probablynbsp;composed by �street poets� like our own ballad mongers of the samenbsp;period. These people were no doubt important retailers of news, andnbsp;would naturally model their compositions on traditional poeticalnbsp;forms. Speech poems composed in celebration of contemporary eventsnbsp;are naturally often devoid of proper names and composed in thenbsp;present tense. In the course of time, however, such poems wouldnbsp;lose much of their significance, and so the addition of a brief narrativenbsp;introduction, and the necessary proper names, would be essential ifnbsp;the poems were to have a continued circulation after the events whichnbsp;gave rise to them.

References to panegyric poetry are not wanting in this period. Olearius stated in his account of his visit to Russia in 1633��Whennbsp;we were sitting at dinner there came two Russians with lutes andnbsp;gudkas (�fiddles�) who made their bows to the ambassadors, and begannbsp;' For a note on the relationship of the two versions of the Lament of Ksenya, seenbsp;p. i6of. below; cf. also Chadwick, p. 221.

lt;55 to play and sing about the mighty sovereign and tsar Michael Theodoro-vich�? In Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina on the death ofnbsp;Skopin� we are told that in the celebrations held in Moscow afternbsp;Skopin�s victory over the Lithuanians, etc., the Muscovites held a banquet and sang a Slava in his honour. Even if we are to interpret this asnbsp;merely a traditional rhetorical figure, it shows at least that the traditionnbsp;of panegyric poetry such as is found in the Slovo y Polky Igor eve wasnbsp;not forgotten, even in the seventeenth century.

Under Peter the Great the narrative bylina again springs to life, though in general it lacks the splendour which it had known undernbsp;Ivan the Terrible and in the �earlier� Cycles. It is generally short andnbsp;simple in style and diction, like the byliny of the sixteenth century,nbsp;though the conventions of the �early� Kiev Cycle are still common.nbsp;We still find the same heroic epithets, the same heroic simplicity ofnbsp;outlook, the same straight issues in the theme, and Peter, � our sovereignnbsp;tsar�, behaves like an irresponsible bogatyr surrounded by his drurfiina.

The byliny of the time of Peter the Great fill an entire volume (Vol. viii) in Kireevski�s collection. They are by no means uniform in style.nbsp;On the contrary most of the forms with which we are already familiarnbsp;are represented here. The traditional narrative styles of the earliernbsp;byliny are again found in the bylina on Peter�s wrestling match with thenbsp;dragoon in his boyhood,^ and the byliny which relate to the Capture ofnbsp;Azov,'^ and to Peter�s Journey to Sweden.5 The bylina which shows usnbsp;Peter holding his council and writing a protocol��not on commonnbsp;paper, but paper with the eagle stampis an admirable instance ofnbsp;purely heroic treatment applied to a singularly unpromising theme.

In this collection also we find the type of bylina in which an event is commemorated in narrative form during or immediately after its completion. Many celebrate incidents in the life of the tsar himself, such asnbsp;the little poem on Peter�s birth, with the making and decorating of hisnbsp;cradle, the freeing of the prisoners and the royal celebrations.7 Others

� Olearius, The Voyages and Travells of the Ambassadors sent by Frederick, Duke oj Holstein, to the Great Duke of Muscovy, and the King of Persia, transi, by J. Davisnbsp;(London, 1669), p. 7.

See the French translation of the first part of this bylina by Rambaud, R.E. p. 322.

are concerned with the death of Alexis and the nomination of Peter as his heir;' and with Peter at sea?

These byliny are for the most part, however, reactionary in tone. The return to an autocratic monarchy has brought about a return to the oldnbsp;heroic attitude. The note of criticism and protest is silenced. It is anbsp;notable fact that several of the byliny of the reign of Peter are based onnbsp;hyliny originally composed for Ivan the Terrible. It has often beennbsp;remarked how similar are many of the features of the two reigns�evennbsp;incidents in the private lives of the two tsars ; and these similarities havenbsp;facilitated the adaptation of the older byliny to the new incidents, or thenbsp;composition of new byliny on the old models. Thus we again find in thenbsp;reign of Peter a bylina commemorating the banishment of the tsaritsa tonbsp;a monastery; but it is significant of Peter�s suppression of popularnbsp;speech that the name of the tsaritsa does not occur in the poem. Thenbsp;tsar had issued an order that her name must never be mentioned.^

Byliny were still composed on contemporary events throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The tenth volume of Kireevski�snbsp;great collection is devoted exclusively to Nash V�k, �Our own times�,nbsp;i.e. the nineteenth century�principally the first half of the period. Itnbsp;includes byliny relating to the Napoleonic Invasion of 1812 the entry ofnbsp;the Russian troops into Paris in i8i4;5 the capture of Warsaw by thenbsp;Russian general Paskovich in 1831;^ the Crimean War of 1854-6;? annbsp;interesting but somewhat difficult poem on the attack by the English onnbsp;the Solovetsk monastery in the White Sea;� and a host of other subjects.nbsp;As an example of the narrative poetry of the period we quote the followingnbsp;brief bylina on the Napoleonic Invasion of 1812 recorded from thenbsp;territory of the Don Cossacks.9

�I beg you. Tsar Alexander, I beg you, do not be angry. Prepare for me a lodging in the Kremlin of Moscow,nbsp;Prepare your royal palace for me, the French king.�

� See the French translation by Rambaud, R.�. p. 296. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ih. p. 307.

3 See Bezsonov�snote,Kir�evski, ix. p. 105; cf. Rambaud,R.E.p.316,footnote i. Kir�evski, x. p. 2; Chadwick, p. 287 f.

5 Kir�evski, x. p. 25 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� lb. p. 472; Chadwick, p. 292 ff.

? Kir�evski, x. p. 484 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Ib. p. 487 �.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;9 Loc. cit.

The expression of his royal countenance changed; Before him stood a general�Prince Kutuzov himself:nbsp;�Fear not, fear not. Tsar Alexander, do not be dismayed!nbsp;We will welcome him half way�that dog of a foe.nbsp;We will prepare him delicacies of bombs and bullets.nbsp;As an entr�e we will offer him cannon balls.

So that his warriors will march home again under their banners.� Then our Tsar Alexander rejoiced greatly.

The Tsar Alexander cried out and proclaimed in a loud voice : �Exert yourselves to the utmost, you warrior Cossacks,nbsp;And I will richly reward your horsemen,

The following picturesque bylinaJ of Type D, is a piece of popular poetical journalism. Its purpose is to announce and lament the death ofnbsp;the Tsar Alexander I. The tsar died at the Spa of Taganrog in Southnbsp;Russia in 1825. While preserving some of the old poetical conventions,nbsp;the poem shows in its general originality of treatment that the art ofnbsp;composing byliny was not yet wholly dead.

Our Tsar Alexander has promised to come to the house of Rozhestov Everybody is out on holiday�Alexander is not at home.

�I will go,� I will climb the tower�the highest tower of all, I will gaze in the direction where my Alexander has gone!�nbsp;Along the Piterski road the dust rises in columns.nbsp;The dust rises in columns�a young courier is running.

�I will go, I will question the courier: � Whither, courier, are you running.� Can you give us tidings, courier, of the Tsar^Alexander.��nbsp;�Throw off your crimson shawls, put on your mourning-weeds,

Our Tsar Alexander has died at Taganrog, And twelve generals act as bearers to our tsar.nbsp;While two officers lead his raven steed.nbsp;And four guardsmen march with banners.�

It will have been observed that the intellectual outlook of the Russian ska:(iteli has hardly kept pace with the dignity of their subjects. As wenbsp;pass from the Kiev Cycle to those of more modem times we arenbsp;conscious of an increasing disparity between the subject and the treat-

* From the variants recorded by Kireevski (Joe. cit.) it appears that it is the tsar s mother who speaks.

ment by the popular poet�a disparity which becomes most obvious when we come to the last considerable body of heroic poetry whichnbsp;Great Russia has produced�that on the Napoleonic Wars. The historynbsp;of the bylina as a literary type is to be regarded, therefore, as the historynbsp;of an art in its decline. Its characteristic features were acquired at anbsp;time when the minstrels moved in court circles and shared the intellectualnbsp;outlook of their patrons. The greatest Cycle of the heroic poetry ofnbsp;Russia is admittedly that which relates to Kiev. The Kiev Cycle ofnbsp;byliny has set the standard in heroic narrative style in Russia which hasnbsp;persisted down to our own day.

While the Cycle of Moscow produced many fine iyliny of a similar form and technique to those of the Kiev Cycle, this Cycle also contributed a new literary form to the by liny. The short popular song, consisting largely of speeches, which we know to be already a fully developednbsp;form at the time when the Slovo o Polky Igorev� was composed, wasnbsp;developed in Moscow into a literary form admirably suited to thenbsp;celebration of contemporary events and to the expression of popularnbsp;feeling. When this form is combined with narrative, it is equallynbsp;well adapted to the transmission of contemporary or recent news. Itnbsp;is curious that the form is hardly ever applied to the themes of thenbsp;Kiev Cycle. It is reserved for contemporary history. The Muscovitenbsp;singers never developed, as did the Norse poets, their ancient epicnbsp;themes as subjects for the special study of emotional situations, or thenbsp;development of poems concentrating on a single event or scene.

It will be necessary to turn to the Kiev Cycle in order to analyse the qualities of style and technique which characterise Russian heroic poetry.nbsp;It is certainly the byliny of this Cycle which have set the standard innbsp;heroic narrative style�a style which has persisted to our own time. Thisnbsp;style and technique have influenced the byliny of all the succeedingnbsp;periods in a greater or lesser degree, and in general it may be said thatnbsp;the measure of the artistic success of the byliny of more � recent� Cycles isnbsp;proportionate to their approximation to the style and technique of thenbsp;Kiev poems. It will therefore be best to take the byliny of this Cycle asnbsp;the starting point for our analysis of the characteristic features of Russiannbsp;heroic poetry as a whole.

It will have been observed that the analysis of the characteristics of Greek and English narrative heroic poetry given in Vol. i, p. 20 IF. is alsonbsp;true in great measure of the byliny relating to Kiev.

(i) Narrative poetry preponderates. In Cycles relating to the early period it is almost the only type represented. Type B appears as a

69 fully developed type in relation to events of the sixteenth century, butnbsp;seems to be confined to contemporary events. Type D also appearsnbsp;as a fully developed type for the first time in relation to events of thisnbsp;period, but there are reasons for suspecting that it had long been innbsp;vogue. In both these types, however, a narrative element is generallynbsp;found.

varies somewhat, particularly in regard to the length of the lines, as between one locality and another, and between one school of singersnbsp;and another, yet no change is discernible in this respect between thenbsp;byliny of one Cycle and another, or between those which are known tonbsp;have been composed in the early seventeenth century and those of thenbsp;present day.

Even the most commonplace actions are described minutely. In the bylina of Solovey Budimirovich 5 we are told how Vladimir�s niecenbsp;Zabava arose�

� Something in the nature of a refrain occurs in the Lament of Ksenya Borisovna recorded by James in 1619 (cf. p. 64 above).

She washed herself with water till she was quite clean, She dried herself on a little towel till she was quite dry,nbsp;She said her prayers to the Lord God,nbsp;And then she looked out of her little vzindow.

The poet is at pains to hold our attention in expectation of what is about to happen by dwelling on the commonplaces of a banquet:�

(10) Static adjectives are of very frequent occurrence. They are often found in static combinations, and sometimes as compounds, e.g. � dampnbsp;mother earth� (mat-syra ^zmlya)-, �free open plain� {ra^^dolitsoe chistoenbsp;pole)-, �white stone city� {belokamenny gorod); �good heroic steed � {dobrynbsp;kon bogatyrskt)', �glorious gentle Don� {slavny tikhi Don).

More often the static adjectives are found singly. These are frequently identical with the Yugoslav, e.g. �white palace or town� {b�layanbsp;palata or b�ly gorod'); �white hand� (b�laya ruka); �white face� (beloenbsp;litse); �bitter tears� (goryuch�a sler^y); �good steed� or �hero� (dobrykonnbsp;or bogatyr); �illustrious prince� (laskovy knya^-, �nimble feet�nbsp;zzpgy). Static adjectives which differ from the Yugoslav are �rebelliousnbsp;head� (buynayagolova)-, �green wine� (gelenoe vino')-, �damp earth� (syranbsp;^emlyci)-, high mountain (krutaya gora); �red� or �fair� sun (yolntsenbsp;krasnoe').

We may instance further �sweet (ooA� (yastva sakharn�a'); �honeyed drink� (pite medvyanoe'); �silken bowstring� (terzva shelkovaya)-, �darknbsp;forest� (les temny')-, �holy Russia� (svyataya Rus)-, �white Tzar�nbsp;tsar').

Certain of the heroes of the byliny have their own particular static adjectives with which their names are usually associated; e.g. �thenbsp;terrible tsar, Ivan Vasilevich� (gropiy tsar, Ivan Vasil�vicK); Vladimirnbsp;prince of royal Kiev (J^ladimir knya^ Stolno-Kievsk�); Ilya of Murom,nbsp;the Old Cossack (stary Ka^ak Ilya Muromets)-, Sadko the merchant,nbsp;the rich stranger (Sadko kupets, bogaty gosi).

� See the entitled � The Tsar resolves to slay his son , Kir�evski, vi. p. 5 5 ff. ; Chadwick, p. 193 ff.

Standing formulae and stock motifs and situations are very common. As in Teutonic and Greek heroic poetry, common actions and events,nbsp;especially such as occur frequently in daily life, tend to be described innbsp;identical terms.^ Thus the formula for setting out in a hurry is as follows :nbsp;� He flung his boots on to his bare feet, his fur cloak over one shoulder,nbsp;his sable cap over one ear.� The formula generally used of a person�snbsp;entering a building is � He bowed on two (three, four, all, etc.) sides �.nbsp;When strangers meet they commonly ask the following question:nbsp;�By what name do they call you, and how are you known in yournbsp;native country.^� Speeches are almost always introduced by the phrase:nbsp;�Dobrynya, (Churilo, etc.), spoke such words� (sc. as follow).

Guests at a feast are usually described as seated round a table of oak or cypress wood, as eating �sweet food� or the white swan, and as drinkingnbsp;green wine or honeyed drinks. The hero generally begins his adventuresnbsp;by �mounting his noble, heroic steed and riding over the free, opennbsp;plain�. Introductory formulae are also common. Thus in poems ofnbsp;Type B, we frequently find the opening lines occupied with an addressnbsp;to the bright moon, which seems to bear no relationship to what follows.

In addition to the formal characteristics enumerated above, the byliny employ a number of conventions of a somewhat elaborate characternbsp;which would seem to have a long history behind them. Not unfrequentlynbsp;they open with an invocation to the sun and moon, or to nature undernbsp;various aspects. Sometimes in the place of invocations we have observations on the weather, which is then generally described as if it reflected the mood of the characters or incidents in the poem, as e.g. in thenbsp;various byliny containing laments of the troops for the dead tsars.^nbsp;Metaphors are commonly introduced, and are sometimes sustained fornbsp;some length. We are struck by the large number drawn from bird life,nbsp;as in the Slovo. We may refer to the opening lines of the Lament whichnbsp;purports to be spoken by Ksenya, the daughter of Boris Godunov :3nbsp;The little bird laments.nbsp;The little white quail:nbsp;�Alas that I so young must mourn�.

Similes introduced by �like� or �as� (te^) are not common in the fyliny, though they are not unknown. We have however a curious devicenbsp;which is neither quite a simile nor a metaphor, but which is something

* See Mazon, Bylines, p. 682; Rzhiga, R.�.S. xil. (1933), p. 213 ff. Cf. also p. 246 below.

73 between the two�a comparison introduced by a negative. This form isnbsp;very common, and appears to have arisen with the loss of the earliernbsp;figurative diction. A striking illustration of the use of this so-callednbsp;�negative comparative� will be found in the opening lines of the bylinanbsp;on the murder of the Tsarevich Dimitri ri

It is an eagle flying under the clouds, Keenly he is eyeing the River Moskva,nbsp;And the palace of white stone.nbsp;And its green garden.nbsp;And the golden palace of the royal city.nbsp;It is not a cruel serpent rearing itself up.nbsp;It is a caitiff dog raising a steel knife.nbsp;It has not fallen into the water, nor on to the earth.nbsp;It has fallen on to the white breast of the tsarevich...nbsp;It is not a whirlwind rolling along the valley.nbsp;It is not the grey feather-grass bending to the earth,nbsp;It is the terrible wrath of God sweepingnbsp;Over orthodox Russia.

Not unfrequently we are introduced to the speech of a hero by such words as the following:

Nor a trumpet of silver; it is someone speaking in a loud voice, It is Ermak Timofeevich [or some other hero] speaking.^

Repetition is used even more freely than in Greek or Teutonic heroic poetry. It is, indeed, one of the most characteristic features of thenbsp;byliny. It occurs with especial frequency in speeches. Very commonlynbsp;we find long passages repeated with hardly any variation, very much asnbsp;we do in the west European ballads. Such repetitions are often usednbsp;with considerable skill to hold the imagination in check and prepare fornbsp;the effect of a new announcement�the climax. Hence they commonlynbsp;occur before important statements or in situations of emotional stress.nbsp;Typical examples occur in Ryabinin�s version of the bylina of Dyuknbsp;Stepanovich 3 and Chukov�s version of the bylina of Staver.4 The latternbsp;is quite shameless in the liberality of its repetitions of speeches, but by nonbsp;means unskilful in the use of slight variations which give piquancy tonbsp;these same speeches, and serve to keep the attention in a state of expecta-

* Kir�evski, VII. p. i; Chadwick, p. 2i6. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Chadwick, p. 200.

tion. The repetition of long passages is no doubt due to the poet�s desire to make his story last as long as possible, coupled with a knowledge that such devices have a certain cumulative effect.

(ii) The length of time covered by the action varies very greatly. In the Kiev and Novgorod Cycles it frequently extends over a number ofnbsp;years. In Chukov�s version of�The Absence of Dobrynya�� the actionnbsp;is extended over twelve years, though the attention is focussed on thenbsp;two scenes at the beginning and the close of the period. In Kirshanbsp;Danilov�s version of Mikhailo Potyk� the story extends over manynbsp;years, though the scenes which occupy almost the whole bylina apparentlynbsp;took place in a few months. In many versions of the byliny of Sadkonbsp;and Vasili Buslaev the narrative covers the greater part of the lives of thenbsp;heroes, though here also the greater part of the byliny is occupied with anbsp;few important events, the rest being narrated summarily. The siege ofnbsp;Kazan by Ivan the Terrible is narrated as if it took place during thenbsp;space of a few days, whereas actually it lasted for six weeks. We havenbsp;seen that many of the byliny relating to the sixteenth century and allnbsp;succeeding periods are concerned with events which can only havenbsp;occupied a few moments.

When a lapse of time has to be accounted for it is frequently artificially abbreviated, as in folk-tales. Thus Ilya�s journey from Murom to Kiev is represented as taking place between Matins and Mass onnbsp;Easter morn, owing to the exaggerated fleetness of his horse.3 Innbsp;Kirsha Danilov�s version, Sadko�s twelve years� sojourn with the tsarnbsp;of the sea are passed over almost in silence, the narrative concentratingnbsp;on the events of a few hours.�*

Sometimes lapse of time is frankly admitted, as in the case of the imprisonment of Ilya of Murom, of Vasili Buslaev, of Sukhan, and ofnbsp;Stavr. In such cases the length of time is generally greatly exaggerated,nbsp;thirty years being a static period. Not unfrequently the action falls intonbsp;two main parts with a considerable interval between. We may refer tonbsp;the version of the bylina of the �Absence of Dobrynya� recited bynbsp;Chukov to Rybnikov,^ which is almost wholly occupied with two suchnbsp;scenes. In the first we have Dobrynya�s leave-taking and departure, innbsp;the second his return, after an interval of twelve years. In these devicesnbsp;we may observe a developed sense of form and structure, an advancednbsp;technique.

� Kir�evski, iv. p. 52 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Cf, however, p. 117 below.

(12) The distance in the time of the action in relation to the poet is seldom, if ever, expressed in the lyliny of the early Cycles. This is allnbsp;the more remarkable as we generally find at the beginning of the folktales a tacit recognition that some pronouncement on this point isnbsp;expected by the audience. And we may add that it is the more remarkable also in view of the realisation on the part of the modern singers ofnbsp;the byliny that the events narrated, in the case at least of the two earlynbsp;cycles, happened very long ago. Rybnikov and Gilferding found that ifnbsp;they or any of the audience expressed scepticism in regard to the superhuman feats of the heroes, the minstrel, or even a member of the audiencenbsp;versed in such matters would reply: �Ah, but the men of that time werenbsp;not as the men of to-day.� Sometimes however a vague indication isnbsp;given in the bylina that the story relates to the far past. We may refer tonbsp;the opening lines of a bylina of the healing of Ilya of Murom:

Who is there who could tell us about the old days. About the old days, and what happened long ago.nbsp;About Ilya, Ilya of Murom.��

The manner of recitation for the most part, however, is dramatic rather than historic, and the present tense is used almost as commonly as thenbsp;past. In poems relating to the sixteenth and following centuries, as wenbsp;have seen, the events are very frequently represented as actually takingnbsp;place, or just completed, at the time of composition. The bylina recordednbsp;by James in 1619 on the invasion by the Khan of the Crimea in 1571nbsp;opens with the words :

The bylina �The Tsar sends the Tsaritsa into a convent� opens with the question:

Kirsha Danilov�s version of � The Death of Skopin � is a rare instance of a bylina opening with an exact statement of the date of the occurrencenbsp;about to be narrated.

The persistence and conservatism with which the byliny, collected from all over Great Russia and northern Asia, have retained the con-

70 nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;RUSSIAN ORAL LITERATURE

ventions associated originally with the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, are all the more remarkable in view of the fact that all trace of this Cycle hasnbsp;disappeared in precisely the district where it is believed to have grownnbsp;up. In the valley of the Dn�pr round Kiev, where the court of Vladimirnbsp;was held, and the heroes performed their exploits, scarcely a tracenbsp;remains of their names or deeds. The disunion among the Russiannbsp;princes of the Dn�pr, followed by the destruction of Kiev by the Tatarsnbsp;in 1240, and the consequent stream of migration northwards, are nonbsp;doubt initially responsible in part for the wide distribution of themesnbsp;and motifs derived from the poetry of this Cycle. In the meantimenbsp;changing political conditions in and around Kiev inspired fresh schoolsnbsp;of heroic poets to fresh efforts. The old themes were superseded in theirnbsp;native district by a totally new cycle of poems celebrating the exploitsnbsp;of the heroes of the rising community of the Zaporogian Cossacks andnbsp;the Republic of Little Russia. This new school looked to the west fornbsp;its literary traditions, and composed in rhyming strophic verse quitenbsp;distinct from that of the byliny.

THE HEROIC MILIEU INDIVIDUALISM IN THE HEROIC POEMSnbsp;The milieu of the great majority of the byliny is heroic. There are,nbsp;as we have seen, certain exceptions. The milieu of the bylina ofnbsp;Volga and Mikula is partly heroic, partly non-heroic, while thatnbsp;of certain of the byliny of the Novgorod Cycle, notably of Vasilinbsp;Buslaev and of Terenti Cost, are post-heroic, the former even mock-heroic. Certain of the byliny relating to the seventeenth century arenbsp;also post-heroic in tone. These non-heroic and post-heroic byliny differnbsp;from the heroic byliny of the Kiev Cycle chiefly in regard to theirnbsp;outlook, though there are also certain differences perceptible in thenbsp;personnel, as we shall see. All, or almost all the byliny have retained thenbsp;heroic form and style.

The milieu of the byliny, like that of the other heroic poetry and saga already considered, is mainly aristocratic in character. Dyuk Stepanovich is the son of a prince of Galicia. The heroes of the Kiev Cycle arenbsp;not, for the most part, of princely rank, however. Both Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich and Ivan Godinovich are sometimes represented as � nephews �nbsp;of Prince Vladimir, though in one bylina recorded by Kirsha Danilovnbsp;Dobrynya is said to be the son of a rich merchant of Ryazan.^ Alyoshanbsp;Popovich is the son of a priest of Rostov, the great ecclesiastical centrenbsp;of north Russia in ancient times. Churilo Plenkovich is the son of anbsp;man of wealth and substance, sometimes also described as a merchant.nbsp;Ilya of Murom is said to be a peasant�s son, though he has horse andnbsp;weapons, and seems to be rather in the nature of a country squire.nbsp;Edioten Bludovich is the son of a merchant of Kiev. Solovey Budimiro-vich is a wealthy seafaring merchant, and Stavr is a merchant of Chernigov. In the Novgorod byliny Sadko is a great trader, a rich merchant;nbsp;Vasili Buslaev is the son of the tysyatski, i.e. the chief of the mercantilenbsp;half of the city of Novgorod. But though his rank is hereditary, and hisnbsp;prestige high, he does not belong to a princely family. In these earlynbsp;Cycles, therefore, it would seem that the majority of the heroes belongnbsp;to the wealthy mercantile class though they are attached to Vladimir�snbsp;court. Stavr is spoken of in some versions as being poorly clad and notnbsp;� Sheffer, p. 147; Kir�evski, ii. p. 49.

well set up in life/ but the byliny are not wholly consistent on this point, and in any case he is only a messenger on a mission to Vladimir�s court.nbsp;For the most part the heroes live the life of a rich, leisured aristocracy.nbsp;It is clear that they at least belong to the highest rank of society knownnbsp;to the poets, and mix on an equal footing with the princes, with whosenbsp;families they intermarry. They recognise no social superiors and livenbsp;like princes themselves, enjoying a life of ease and leisure, and apparentlynbsp;lacking none of the accessories of people of the highest rank, as we shallnbsp;see.

Women are constantly referred to in the byliny, and they play an important part in the narrative. They are in general of the same rank asnbsp;the men. They are represented as wiser than men, and sometimes possessnbsp;second sight and the power to interpret dreams. These gifts are attributed to the wife of the Turkish Tsar Santal in the bylina of Volga, andnbsp;to Domna Faleleevna, the affianced bride of Prince Dimitri in the littlenbsp;bylina � which bears the name of this prince, and which has been thoughtnbsp;to have reference to the medieval period. References to witches are notnbsp;rare. Marya the White Swan, the wife of Mikhailo Potyk, is a witch ofnbsp;Polish or Lithuanian origin. Marina, of whom Dobrynya Nikitich isnbsp;enamoured, and who almost proves his undoing, is also a witch; and innbsp;the seventeenth century we have another Marina, the Polish wife of thenbsp;false Dimitri, who possesses the power of shape-changing.

Very few young girls appear in the byliny of the early Cycles. Zabava Putyatichna, Vladimir�s niece, and the young princess Apraxyanbsp;are represented as na�vely frivolous. In her spiteful and dishonourablenbsp;treatment of Kasyan Mikhailovich, the leader of the �Forty and Onenbsp;Kal�ki', Apraxya plays a despicable r�le; but here and elsewhere it isnbsp;difficult to distinguish the traditional character of the person in questionnbsp;from a character in a given story which has come to be attached to her�nbsp;perhaps at a later period�and again from the elements which havenbsp;accrued to it from the milieu in which it has circulated. In generalnbsp;the traditional character of Apraxya is presented to us as giddy andnbsp;undignified, but not as actively mischievous, and we have little doubtnbsp;that the story of Kasyan and the kal�ki had originally nothing to donbsp;with Apraxya or Kiev. The theme is a common motif of folk-tale.

The mothers of the heroes, on the other hand, whether of the Kiev or Novgorod Cycles, are represented as uniformly wise, far-sighted,nbsp;prudent and practical. They are a notable society in themselves. We may

refer to the mother of Dyuk Stepanovich who warns her son against drunken boasting, and then saves him from the effects of his rashness ;nbsp;to the rich and forceful widow Chasova, the mother of the girl whomnbsp;Khoten Bludovich marries; to the mother of Dobrynya Nikitich whonbsp;warns him against Nev�zha, the dragon of the mountain, but laternbsp;encourages him to destroy it; of Solovey Budimirovich who is activenbsp;in her son�s welfare, sharing his trading expeditions, and passing hernbsp;leisure in prayer for his welfare; of Vasili Buslaev whose mothernbsp;wisely locks him up in a strong room to save him from his own folly;nbsp;and many others. It is a curious fact that the two chief heroes of thenbsp;Kiev Cycle who come to a bad end�Alyosha Popovich and Churilonbsp;Plenkovich�do not appear to have mothers. The heroes enumeratednbsp;above as particularly blessed in their mothers appear to be fatherless. It isnbsp;still more curious that it appears to be very rare for a hero to possessnbsp;two parents. Exceptions are Ilya of Murom and Sadko ; but even herenbsp;the parents are barely referred to.

In this community a number of military women, known as polamp;nitsy^ are frequently mentioned. They are sometimes occupied in militarynbsp;pursuits, and are frequently mentioned among the guests at Vladimir�snbsp;feasts. One of the most prominent is Nastasya, the wife of Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich, whom Dobrynya first encounters riding alone in the opennbsp;plain, and whom he only succeeds in making his wife after she hasnbsp;forced him to acknowledge her superior strength and fleetness onnbsp;horseback.^ Yet curiously enough in the bylina which relates to theirnbsp;married life Nastasya figures as docile and conventional. She is saidnbsp;to be a sister of Vasilisa, the wife of Stavr of Chernigov, and a daughternbsp;of Mikula. These polenitsy correspond in many features to a similarnbsp;class of warrior women who play a more prominent part in Norsenbsp;literature, especially in the Fornaldar S�gur and in the narrative poetrynbsp;of the Tatars, to which reference will be made in the next volume.

In these early Cycles the poorer classes are rarely mentioned�never by name. Of the people as a whole, or their occupations, we are toldnbsp;hardly anything. The only servant who appears to be clearly individualised is the servant of Alyosha Popovich, who is variously known asnbsp;Ekim or Torop and who is said to be able to read. As Alyosha himselfnbsp;is the son of a priest of Rostov, the chief centre of learning and educationnbsp;in northern Russia, his servant is obviously a clerk, and no doubt henbsp;belongs to one of the lower orders of the church.

' Reference may be made to the bylina recited by Chukov to Rybnikov, I. p. 147 ff-

In the byliny which relate to Volga, Mikula and Svyatogor the merchant class disappears completely. The achievements of these heroes, especially those of Mikula and Svyatogor, are such as characterise thenbsp;peasantry. Strength rather than skill are the characteristics of Svyatogornbsp;and Mikula, though the last is an exceedingly skilful ploughman. Hisnbsp;furrows are straight and well turned; he clears the ground of all roots andnbsp;stones; he has a good heavy plough horse. His little wallet contains thenbsp;weight of the whole world. Svyatogor is so strong that his power tonbsp;destroy can only be restrained with difficulty. Volga is eminentlynbsp;successful as a hunter, a fowler, and a fisherman. He is skilful, and fullnbsp;of knowledge. Nevertheless none of these heroes are true peasants, andnbsp;they are not without wealth. Volga is a hero of aristocratic rank, whonbsp;exalts the peasant Mikula to a place in his druv^hina. Mikula, it has beennbsp;pointed out, has harness of silk, a plough of maple wood, and his horsenbsp;is a highly bred steed with a � noble equine pedigree �. Mikula must therefore be pictured as a man of substance. Svyatogor is perhaps hardly tonbsp;be classified according to ordinary standards of rank, but his horse andnbsp;tent, his weapons and way of life would seem to entitle him to a placenbsp;in the same rank as Volga. His companion is Ilya of Murom. Thenbsp;peasants of this group, therefore, like so many peasants in folk-tales,nbsp;are introduced only to be exalted.

In the later Cycles, with the exception of the Period of Troubles, the fyliny are chiefly concerned with members of the royal family. This isnbsp;particularly striking in regard to Ivan the Terrible and Peter the Great,nbsp;though in Peter�s reign, and in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries,nbsp;great generals and statesmen also play a prominent part. Throughoutnbsp;the period from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century also importantnbsp;Cossack chiefs such as Ermak, Stenka Razin, and Pugachev are celebrated as heroes. Such men are not always of aristocratic birth, but thenbsp;poet does not concern himself too closely with their origin, providednbsp;always that they have attained to rank or fame or high prestige. Duringnbsp;the Period of Troubles men who are not of high rank occasionallynbsp;occupy the position of heroes of byliny, but such instances are rare.nbsp;Grigori Otrepev, the first pretender, is introduced to us as an �unfrockednbsp;priest�, but he is treated with little sympathy by the poet. He is thenbsp;villain rather than the hero of his bylina. Another person of the middlenbsp;class who figures as the hero of a bylina^ is Kuzma Minin, the famousnbsp;butcher of Nizhni-Novgorod, who took a prominent part in the restoration of the monarchy in 1613. There can be little doubt, however, thatnbsp;� Kir�evski, vii. p. 21 ff.; Chadwick, p. 241 ff.

he owes his fame in heroic or post-heroic poetry to the assistance which he rendered to � the glorious magnificent house of Romanov In generalnbsp;it may be said that during the historical period the heroes are almost invariably princes or aristocrats, while in the Cycles relating to earliernbsp;times, when they are not of this class they are generally of the rank andnbsp;resources of country squires, and merchant princes, who associate asnbsp;equals with members of the royal family, and even intermarry withnbsp;them. The people of the poorer classes are rarely mentioned.

Unlike the Teutonic and Celtic heroic stories the Russian byliny are, for the most part, associated with large cities; so much so that in mentioning the early Cycles it is usual to refer to them by the name of thenbsp;city with which they are connected�the Kiev Cycle, the Novgorodnbsp;Cycle, the Moscow Cycle, etc. Neither Svyatogor nor Mikula arenbsp;directly connected with any such centres; but they move on the periphery of the circle of Kiev, and Volga is directly connected with severalnbsp;cities of which the names are preserved in the bylina of Volga andnbsp;Mikula. The scene is generally laid either in the royal palace or in thenbsp;�open plain� (v chistompole}. In the latter case we are often introducednbsp;to the �white tents�, both of the heroes and of their enemies. Lessnbsp;frequently the scene is laid in a foreign court or open country, such asnbsp;Lithuania, Poland, or Galicia, or in the palace of the Turkish tsar; butnbsp;in these cases the picture presented to us does not differ in any respectnbsp;from that of Kiev, or the Russian plains and rivers, or Vladimir�snbsp;court.

In the Novgorod byliny the background is somewhat more varied. The Ippliny of Sadko the merchant carry us from the banks of the Volganbsp;to the shore of Lake Ilmen, again on to the Baltic among the streets andnbsp;booths of Novgorod, even into the customs house, and again into thenbsp;palace of the � tsar of the sea�. Vasili Buslaev wanders from his mother�snbsp;house through the streets of Novgorod to feast with the guild ofnbsp;St Nikolai and to drink in the taverns, and again along the river banknbsp;to fight his battle on the famous bridge over the river Volkliov. Innbsp;later life he journeys to Jerusalem, but his route lies over the mythicalnbsp;Sorochinski hills and down the Volga.

In the byliny of Ivan the Terrible and those of later times the scene is generally laid either in the palace or its vicinity, or else on the battlefield.nbsp;The palace and general mise-en-sc�ne of the Kiev Cycle reappear withnbsp;little variation, though certain features of the Kremlin, such as the Rednbsp;Staircase, the lime-wood block where executions were carried out, andnbsp;the Great Bell figure rather more commonly. Sometimes the principal

CL ii nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;6

82 nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;RUSSIAN ORAL LITERATURE

streets of Moscow are referred to by name, and we begin to hear of the great churches of the Kremlin, the Uspenski Sobor, the Blagov�sh-chenski Sobor, and the Church of Michael the Archangel. During thisnbsp;period, as we have seen, we have for the first time byliny devoted whollynbsp;to women, and as a natural result the scene is sometimes laid in thenbsp;terem or upper storey, with its � floor of white hazel-wood � ; or shifts to anbsp;convent and its cell with three windows.

The first looking on to God�s Church, The second on to the green garden.nbsp;The third on to the open country.^

But we never pass into the interior of a house of the middle or lower classes, and in the modern byliny even the inns become rare. The poetnbsp;restricts his outlook rigidly to the aristocratic quarter.

Inside this restricted and highly conventionalised framework the heroes are pictured as leading the life of a wealthy and fortunate littlenbsp;community of adventurers. Practical needs, and questions of ways andnbsp;means, trouble them not at all. The days are spent in warfare, or innbsp;sports, both outdoor and indoor, or adventures of various kinds. Thenbsp;evenings are spent in feasting. By far the commonest opening of anbsp;bylina of the Kiev Cycle, and also of the narrative poems of the Moscownbsp;Cycle, is a royal feast attended by �princes and boyars and all boldnbsp;women warriors (jjolenitsy') �. Unlike the Yugoslav poems, the bylinynbsp;invariably insist on the food as well as the drink as elements of thenbsp;banquet. The menu from the earliest times to the seventeenth centurynbsp;or later consists of�the white swan�, �sugared food�, �sweet drink�,nbsp;�green wine�, �sweet mead�; and occasionally kalachi^ little rolls ofnbsp;white wheaten flour, are mentioned. Meat is never mentioned.

The conduct of the banquet is somewhat similar to that of the Teutonic heroic poems. Prince Vladimir invariably presides in the Kiev poems, Ivan die Terrible in those of Moscow. The prince walks up andnbsp;down his apartment, and occasionally looks through his windows overnbsp;the open plain to see if any new comers are arriving. When the heroes arenbsp;half way through the feast they proceed to make their boasts, eachnbsp;attempting to outdo his fellow in big talk, and it is from these boasts thatnbsp;the adventure about to be related generally arises. It is in this way thatnbsp;Sukhan Domantevich undertakes to bring to Vladimir a white swannbsp;alive and uninjured; in this way too Stavr boasts that his young wifenbsp;Vasilisa will outwit all Vladimir�s princes and boyars. By means of

83 these boasts the tragedy is often brought about. In the bylina whichnbsp;relates how Ivan the Terrible resolves to slay his son, we see how thenbsp;poet turns heroic custom to literary account by a touch of irony:

It is I who have banished treason from my own country. It is I who have brought the imperial purple from Tsargrad.��

Even the banquet at which Prince Mikhailo Skopin Shuyski is believed to have been poisoned in 1610 is described in similar terms:

And the princely banquet was half consumed. Those who were drunk began to boastnbsp;The strong boasted their strength.nbsp;The rich boasted their wealth.^

Minstrelsy is rarely if ever mentioned at what we may call these routine banquets of the byliny of the Kiev and Muscovite Cycles. Innbsp;the Novgorod byliny of Sadko, on the other hand, we are told that innbsp;early life the hero has been a professional minstrel, who used to entertainnbsp;the people of Novgorod with his gusli at their banquets, till a time camenbsp;when they grew tired of his music. Again, when he is the guest of thenbsp;�tsar of the sea�, he is bidden to play on his resounding gusli, and immediately afterwards we are told diat the �tsar of the sea� plies liim withnbsp;drink till he falls into a deep sleep. It is possible, therefore, that hisnbsp;performance formed the entertainment at the tsar�s banquet, and thatnbsp;the Novgorod tradition differed from that of Kiev in this respect.nbsp;Several of the heroes of Kiev appear nevertheless to be accomplishednbsp;minstrels. Churilo Plenkovich and Solovey Budimirovich can play onnbsp;the gusli, and Dobrynya Nikitich and Stavr Godinovich are especiallynbsp;skilled in the art. The two latter are represented as entertaining thenbsp;company at marriage feasts with a wide repertoire. We shall discuss thisnbsp;subject more fully in the chapter on � The Skaziteli

� Kir�evski, vi. p. 55; Chadwick, p. 194. � Kir�evski, vii. p. ii; Chadwick, p. 233.

The wooing of princes is done by an emissary on their behalf. The byliny which relate the wooing on behalf of Prince Vladimir/ and thenbsp;mock wooing of Vasilisa disguised as an emissary of the Polish prince/nbsp;give a detailed picture of the leisurely and ceremonious negotiations ofnbsp;the svath or professional match-maker. On the other hand Zabava,nbsp;Vladimir�s �niece�, is represented as wooing Sclovey with na�ve directness on her own behalf�a forthright way of going about it for whichnbsp;Solovey gravely chides her.3 In this bylina^ and still more clearly in thenbsp;bylina on the �Absence of Dobrynya�,^ it would seem that Vladimirnbsp;claims the right to dispose of the hands of the unmarried women andnbsp;widows at his own discretion. In the latter bylina^ and in Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina of Kastryuk/ we have detailed pictures of thenbsp;whole ceremony�the wooing by the svath, the service in church, thenbsp;feast which follows, and the music and sports and general entertainmentnbsp;which accompany it.

The dobry kon (� good steed �) is an important element of the Russian heroic milieu. The heroes of the Kiev Cycle are all mounted, and a closenbsp;sympathy exists between the horse and its master. When a point ofnbsp;dispute or difference arises between them, however, the horse is invariably in the right, and one gets the general impression that the horsenbsp;is always a finer hero than its master. References to hunting are notnbsp;unknown in the byliny, but they are not common. Fowling appears tonbsp;be one of the favourite occupations of the heroes of the Kiev Cycle,nbsp;and Mikhailo Potyk, Churilo Plenkovich, Sukhan Domantevich, and,nbsp;at a later period. Prince Roman are all represented as occupied innbsp;shooting �geese, and swans, and little grey feathered ducks�. Thenbsp;weapons used appear to be only the �taut bow with silken bow-string�nbsp;and the �tempered arrow�. References to tame hawks or falcons are notnbsp;common, though they occur. In one version of the bylina of Vasilinbsp;Kazimirovich^ Vladimir orders DobrynyaNikitich and Vasili Kazimirovich to take as tribute to Tsar Batu in the Great Horde � 20 bright hawks,nbsp;and 20 bright ger-falcons�. Hounds used for hunting appear to be rare

� The version recited by Chukov will be found in Rybnikov, i. p. 142. For Kirsha Danilov�s version, see Kir�evski, ill. p. 70 ff.

� There are many versions of this ^lina. The version recorded by Rybnikov from the recitation of Chukov is translated by Chadwick, p. 124 ff.

The version referred to is recorded by Rybnikov from the recitation of Chukov, I. p. 162 ff.; Chadwick, p. 80 ff.

85 or unknown. Indeed we know of very few references to dogs of anynbsp;kind in the byliny. House dogs are referred to incidentally in the bylinanbsp;of Dyuk Stepanovich (cf. p. 88 below); and in a version of Dobrynyanbsp;and Marina recorded from Simbirsk Marina is transformed into a greynbsp;bitch running about among the dogs.� The word �dog� rarely occurs,nbsp;however, except as an opprobrious term of the Tatars.

One of the commonest activities of the heroes is fighting; and in this they have little to dread, for the poets have no hesitation in making anbsp;single Russian hero victorious over an entire army. It is thus that Suk-han Domantevich overcomes single-handed an invading host of thirtynbsp;thousand Tatars. Similarly also Mikhailo Potyk overcomes a vast armynbsp;of invaders in the north. In the Olonets versions of�Tsar Kalin� threenbsp;Russian heroes are able to withstand the whole Tatar host for severalnbsp;days. Ilya has on a previous occasion overcome by his own efforts anbsp;vast Tatar host under the walls of Chernigov. In later times Ermak andnbsp;a handful of Cossack outlaws succeed in surprising and overcomingnbsp;Kuchum Khan in his stronghold of Sibir�a feat which has furnishednbsp;material for one of the finest of the byliny. Yet the sum total of the bylinynbsp;leave on one the impression that warfare is an unpleasant necessitynbsp;rather than a choice to the heroes. They do not glory in fighting for itsnbsp;own sake like the Yugoslav heroes. The warfare is almost whollynbsp;defensive. Volga alone carries out a policy of aggressive warfare againstnbsp;the Tatars, attacking them on their own ground. Of feuds among thenbsp;Russians themselves we hear little or nothing. When Alyosha deceivesnbsp;Dobrynya and steals his wife, the injured husband does not stab thenbsp;culprit with steel weapons, or cut off his turbulent head:

He seized Alyosha by his yellow curls, He dragged Alyosha over the table of oak,nbsp;He flung Alyosha over the brick floor.nbsp;He seized his riding whip,nbsp;And set about belabouring him with the butt-end.�

But such feuds are exceptional, and never end very seriously in the early Cycles. One hears on the contrary of many compacts of swornnbsp;brotherhood, and these compacts are in general faithfully adhered to.nbsp;The general impression left by the Kiev byliny is that the heroes focusnbsp;their attention on casual encounters and aimless journeys in search ofnbsp;adventure or sport, and only enter into serious fighting when necessity

' Kir�evski, ii. p. 40 ff. ; cf. ib. ii. p. 43 f-� Rybnikov, i. p. 162 ff.; Chadwick, p. 81.

calls for it. But the lyliny have undoubtedly passed through various phases before they achieved their present attitude, and the predominancenbsp;of peaceable and domestic preoccupation may be due to the nature ofnbsp;either the reciters or their audience, whether in the seventeenth centurynbsp;or in modem times.

The heroes are only lightly armed. Mail-coats and suits of armour are rare or unknown. The shield is apparently not used. The commonestnbsp;weapons are swords, bows and arrows, and a kind of � travelling whip �nbsp;{shalyga doTO7jinaya)^ consisting of a leather strap weighted with lead atnbsp;the end. Spears and lances are sometimes mentioned. The latter is thenbsp;weapon with which Tugarin the Dragon�s son threatens to dispatchnbsp;Alyosha Popovich. The weapon of Svyatogor is a steel club {palitsa)nbsp;which he hurls; but Ilya uses the same club for striking. The weaponnbsp;of Vasili Buslaev is

a club of red elm. With a core in the centrenbsp;Of weighty lead from the east.nbsp;This elm club weighed twelve pudd

It is interesting to note the absence of any reference to firearms or other similar anachronisms in the early Cycles.

Elaborate descriptions of costume are introduced so frequently and with such fullness that we can form a fairly complete idea of die costumenbsp;of the men of the Kiev Cycle�their sable caps for daily use, with sunnbsp;and moon decorarion for parade occasions, their cloaks of marten skins,nbsp;their fantastic chased buttons �like apples of Siberia�, or �in the semblance of youths and maidens�, their morocco boots with high heels andnbsp;toes pointed like awls, their patterned or flowered robes {plate tsv�tnoe').nbsp;The costume of the kal�ki too is no less minutely described, and seemsnbsp;to have been even richer, if we may judge from the accessories of thenbsp;leader of the �Forty and One Kal�ki^ with his bag of velvet and hisnbsp;stick or � crutch � ripped with ivory. In the later Cycles the referencesnbsp;to costume are not so full, and are introduced only incidentally, butnbsp;the details are still the same. The dress of the women is generallynbsp;referred to incidentally in the same terms as that of men, though it isnbsp;never described with any fullness.

It would, of course, be unsafe to assume that either the weapons or the costume necessarily represent any great antiquity. The costume of

* Kirsha Danilov�s version, Kir�evski, v. p. 14 ff.; Fedotov�s version, Rybnikov, I. p. 368 ff. A pud is a weight of 40 Russian pounds, or rather more than 36 English

87 the heroes may represent that of any period down to the time of Peternbsp;the Great, when an edict was issued forbidding the Streltsy to continuenbsp;to wear the semi-oriental habit and the ancient long-skirted costume ofnbsp;tradition. The costume of the kal�ki is certainly not more recent; but tonbsp;what precise period they are to be assigned could only be ascertained bynbsp;considerable research. Equal uncertainty invests the question of thenbsp;exact date of the weapons.

Social standards or moral judgments are very rarely expressed, either by the poet himself, or by the characters in the byliny. Courage,nbsp;loyalty, and generosity, so frequently alluded to in Teutonic heroicnbsp;poetry, are rarely if ever alluded to in the lyliny. Courage, indeed, isnbsp;not a very marked feature of the early heroes. When Vladimir calls fornbsp;volunteers to attack the enemy we are told not infrequently that �thenbsp;greater hid behind the lesser, and the lesser for their part were speechless.�nbsp;Indeed the heroes often seek to evade an encounter. When Dobrynya isnbsp;commissioned by Vladimir to go and rescue his niece Zabava from thenbsp;dragon Nev�zha, he goes to his home in the deepest gloom, and it isnbsp;his mother who encourages him and seeks to give him confidence.nbsp;Similarly when Vasili Buslaev has made a wager with the citizens ofnbsp;Novgorod that he and his dTu^^hina will fight them all on the followingnbsp;day, the hero returns to his mother overwhelmed with gloom and fear.nbsp;Yet this absence of courage is not incompatible with na�ve recklessnessnbsp;and disregard of warnings and sober council.

The loyalty of all the heroes to Vladimir is implicit. In general also they are faithful to their compacts with one another, though manynbsp;flagrant breaches of honour are recorded in the byliny of the earlynbsp;Cycles. Sworn brothers can generally be depended upon to help onenbsp;another at need. Mikhailo Potyk�s sworn brothers, Dobrynya and Ilya,nbsp;are untiring in their efforts to rescue the hero from the enchantmentsnbsp;of the White Swan; and Alyosha Popovich recognises that it is hisnbsp;duty to go and seek and restore to life his sworn brother Dobrynya,nbsp;when the latter is slain by a Tatar.� Yet he deals treacherously withnbsp;Dobrynya in persuading his wife falsely that her husband is dead, and innbsp;marrying her during his absence. None of the heroes appear to havenbsp;any scruples in breaking their word to women.

The formality and ceremony with which life is invested in the Kiev byliny has already been emphasised. The heroes do not fail to follownbsp;certain observances on arrival and departure. On entering a building,nbsp;the hero ties up his horse, tucks his cap under his arm and enters thenbsp;� See the Siberian version of Tsar Kalin, Kir�evski, iv. p. 108 ff.

apartment, bowing on all sides, and in particular to his host and hostess. The more punctilious ask leave of the porters and door-keepers as theynbsp;pass through. If the new arrival is unknown, his host courteously andnbsp;in formal speech enquires his name and parentage and his place of origin,nbsp;and being satisfied, he politely invites him to take his seat at the table ofnbsp;oak, to eat sweet food and drink honeyed drink. In spite of these andnbsp;many other formalities, however, both heroes and heroines not infrequently lapse into childish and even boorish conduct, and the well-ordered feast may end in an unseemly brawl. The widow Chasova doesnbsp;not hesitate to fling her goblet of green wine in the face of the widownbsp;Bludova when the latter presumes to ask her daughter in marriage fornbsp;her own son Khoten. We have already seen Dobrynya drag Alyosha bynbsp;his yellow curls over the table of oak and fling him about the brick floor.nbsp;The deportment of Dyuk on his arrival as a guest at Vladimir�s hall isnbsp;open to criticism:

Dyuk Stepanovich, the prince�s son, Took his millet roll in his hand.nbsp;Took a bite of the outer crust.nbsp;And threw the middle to the dogs...nbsp;They poured out a goblet of green wine.nbsp;And handed it to Dyuk Stepanovich;nbsp;Dyuk Stepanovich, the prince�s son,nbsp;He took the goblet in his right hand.nbsp;And lifted it to his delicate lips;nbsp;That liquor did not please him,�nbsp;He cast it all forth across the golden table.nbsp;Over the glorious hall.�

It will be remembered that the coarse and gluttonous habits of Tugarin and Idolishche give great offence to the more polished heroes ofnbsp;Kiev.

Instances of coarseness of speech, or references to subjects not mentioned in polite society, are strikingly absent at all periods.^ Enemies as well as friends are in general treated with reserve and respect. Atrocitiesnbsp;and the horrors of war are rarely mentioned, or but lightly touched on.nbsp;It is clear that as a general rule the audience has no taste for brutality.nbsp;It is interesting to observe that the byliny give no hint of the terriblenbsp;cruelties which history attributes to Ivan the Terrible and Peter the

� Exceptions are rare. We may refer to Kirsha Danilov�s version of Ivan Godinovich, Kir�evski, iii. p. 25, line 192.

THE HEROIC MILIEU nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;89

The place of execution, the lime-tree block, Where eyes are put out of their sockets,nbsp;Where tongues are tom out from their roots.

In general it is enough to say that the executioner � cut off his rebellious head from his sturdy shoulders�. In particular the treatment of, andnbsp;references to women are reserved and dignified. Exceptions occur,nbsp;especially in the earlier Cycles. We may refer to brutal treatment metednbsp;out by Ivan Godinovich to his wife ; and to the bylina of Prince Roman,nbsp;recorded by Kirsha Danilov,^ which perhaps offers us more which isnbsp;macabre than any other bylina. In general, however, there is little in thenbsp;byliny which could offend the most fastidious taste, and from the sixteenth century onward practically nothing.

Perhaps the feature in which the society of the byliny differs most widely from any of the heroic literatures hitherto considered is itsnbsp;extreme na�vet�. In regard to the men this is most clearly observable innbsp;their boasting and self-conceit. In the bylina of Volga recited by Kuzmanbsp;Romanov to Gilferding the Turkish tsar tells the tsaritsa that he proposesnbsp;to go and raid in Russia and will bring back for her a costly mantle; butnbsp;when she prophesies his failure.

And then he turned and struck her on the other. And he flung the tsaritsa on the brick floor.nbsp;And again he flung her a second time.

This might, indeed, be cited as an instance of the brutal treatment of women if it were not so manifestly a humorous touch on the part of thenbsp;poet. But the na�vet� remains. Similarly ingenuous is the boast ascribednbsp;to Prince Mikhailo Skopin Shuyski (i6io), who makes the followingnbsp;announcement at the feast held in his honour:

Y ou are all boasting of mere trifles ! Now I, Prince Mikhailo Vasilevich Skopin,nbsp;I can indeed boast,

In the women this na�vet� generally assumes the form of a startling frankness in the matter of their affections, however fleeting the fancy;

cries the Princess Apraxya as she carves the white swan at the banquet� In that I have cut my fair right hand;

When Vladimir�s niece, Zabava Putyatichna, hears Solovey�s dru-^hina playing on the gusli of maplewood.

She seated herself on the newly hewn bench And sat there the whole day from early morn.nbsp;All day from early morn till eventide.nbsp;And from eventide till midnight.nbsp;And from midnight until broad daylight.

Zabava sprang to her nimble feet, Zabava bowed to the very ground:nbsp;� Greetings to you, bold noble youth.nbsp;Young Solovey Budimirovich!nbsp;You are a youth as yet unmarried.nbsp;And I am a marriageable maid.� 3

Even in the seventeenth century the maidens still appear as unsophisticated, for in the bylina of Ksenya, daughter of Boris Godunov, Ksenya herself speaks:

I do not wish to be shorn a nun. Or to keep monastic vows.nbsp;The dark cell must be thrown opennbsp;So that I may gaze upon the fine youths.�*

There can be no doubt, however, that the na�vet� is in reality due largely to the manner in which the literary tradition has been trans-

91 mitted, and in particular to the humble rank of the poets and reciters,nbsp;and the humble milieu to which, in modem times, the latter generallynbsp;belong. This literary na�vet� is manifest in the standards of affluencenbsp;recognised by the poets, as we see in the nature of the bribes offered andnbsp;the prices paid for favours asked. Such bribes and payments generallynbsp;take the form of � a bowl of pure silver, another of red gold, and a thirdnbsp;of round pearls�. The same literary na�vet� is manifest also in the inappropriateness of some of the attributes of the heroes, especially of thenbsp;great men of modern times. We may refer to the behaviour ascribed tonbsp;Frederick the Great when the Russian army with Krasnoshchokov, thenbsp;Cossack general, at its head, enters Berlin. �Tell me, king�s daughter�,nbsp;Krasnoshchokov enquires, �Whither has the Prussian king fled.^� �Inbsp;called out to you,� replies the daughter of the greatest monarch innbsp;Europe, �but you would not hearken, I waved my silk kerchief, butnbsp;you would not look;

He has perched on the window as a blue pigeon. The Prussian king is sitting under the table as a grey cat.nbsp;He has flown from the hall as a free bird,nbsp;He has alighted on the black quagmire as a black crow.nbsp;He has plunged into the blue sea as a white fish,�� etc.

It is clear that the poet has forgotten his hero, and the shamanistic catalogue of Volga or his like has run away with him. But he is at allnbsp;times a little uncertain in his touch when depicting incidents in the livesnbsp;of modern sovereigns, especially incidents for which the early Cyclesnbsp;provide no literary precedent. In the bylina which relates the journey ofnbsp;Peter the Great in disguise to Sweden, �the land of Stockholm�, whennbsp;the king�s daughter suspects his identity.

She brought out the portraits of the tsars of seven lands. She recognised the White Tsar from his portrait.^

�I beg you, Tsar Alexander, I beg you, do not be angry. Prepare for me a lodging in the Kremlin of Moscow,nbsp;Prepare your royal palace for me, the French king.�3

It is not easy to disentangle this literary na�vet�, which is doubtless to some considerable extent a thing of modem growth, from the barbaric setting and elementary social outlook of the actual heroicTmilieu.

� Kir�evski, ix. p. 154 ff.; Chadwick, p. 281 ff. � Kir�evski, vin. p. 164 ff.; Chadwick, p. 260 ff.

At one moment the heroes are conducting the most casual actions and encounters with elaborate and stereotyped ceremony; at another theynbsp;are behaving on occasions of the utmost solemnity, in august or sacrednbsp;buildings, like ill-bred children or tavern brawlers. Much of this inconsistency is doubtless inherent in barbaric society everywhere; but in thenbsp;byliny it is greatly increased by the change which has taken place in thenbsp;milieu in which the poems themselves have been preserved. The stylenbsp;and conventions of the poems, as we have seen, are at once highlynbsp;elaborate and highly conventional, and a comparison of them with thenbsp;style of the Slovo o Polky Igorev� convinces us that in the past the bylinynbsp;have formed the repertoire of poets whose function it was to entertainnbsp;a courtly audience. Yet in modern times neither reciters nor audience arenbsp;familiar with court circles or high social standards. The picture of heroicnbsp;life in the early Cycles has been in process of disintegration for manynbsp;centuries, and traces of its degeneration are, as we have seen, clearlynbsp;discernible. Nevertheless it cannot be too strongly emphasised that,nbsp;considering the length of time in which the byliny have been in circulation, and considering the ignorance and poverty of the peasants tonbsp;whom we are indebted for their transmission, the most astonishingnbsp;feature about the byliny is their conservatism�not what has beennbsp;lost, but what has been preserved. We hope to demonstrate the generalnbsp;fidelity of the byliny tradition in the chapter devoted to �Historicalnbsp;and Unhistorical Elements�.

As in the heroic literatures already discussed, nationality plays little part in the byliny. Indeed in the early Cycles it is not easy to see how thisnbsp;could be otherwise, since nothing corresponding to Russia had as yetnbsp;been formed in the period to which this Cycle refers, and the rivalrynbsp;between the various cities, many of them governed by members of thenbsp;same family, was not conducive to the sense of unity and stability indispensable to the growth of a spirit of nationalism. Still less werenbsp;the Tatars likely to present to the Russians a picture of a stabilisednbsp;political unit. Their mobility, their celerity, and their whole organisationnbsp;and general way of life were calculated to convey an impression of annbsp;army of occupation rather than a state. Their capital is said to have resembled a camp rather than a town. It is true that the byliny frequentlynbsp;make mention of Russian and Tatar, but it is doubtful if these termsnbsp;have any ethnographical or political significance.

For the poet of the byliny the chief distinction between the Russians and the Tatars is a military one. They constitute two opposing camps.

But though this is the chief distinction, it is not the only one. The poet is also aware of religious distinctions. The Russians are statically referred to as pravoslavn�e, �Orthodox�, and Russia as svyataya, �holy�.nbsp;The Tatars are commonly referred to as Murmans, i.e. Mussulmans, andnbsp;pagan�e, �heathen�, and as ^ly, �evil�, while the Jews are referred to asnbsp;nechamp;stiv�e, �unclean�, the Poles as proklyat�e, �accursed�. Yet herenbsp;again it may be doubted how far distinction of doctrine is clearlynbsp;apprehended. �Orthodox� and �heathens� constitute two opposingnbsp;parties, and it is the interaction of these two parties which interests thenbsp;poet and his audience.

There is no suggestion in the poems that the Russian heroes regarded the Tatars as foreigners. They have no difficulty in conversing freelynbsp;with them, and no hint is ever given of a difference of language. Theynbsp;commonly refer to the Tatars as �dogs� {sobaki}, and Mamai, the Tatarnbsp;khan, is na�vely addressed to his person as �heathen dog Mamai�; but nonbsp;offence appears to be either taken or intended by this brusque mode ofnbsp;address. We do not hear of any national characteristics, whether virtuesnbsp;or vices, ascribed to the Tatars as such, or any special distinction ofnbsp;dress, or habit, or way of life. Such physical distinctions as have leftnbsp;traditional traces on the byliny are so distorted as to be almost unrecognisable (cf. p. 119 below). The Russians frequently visit theirnbsp;camp, it may be only on diplomatic or hostile missions; but once therenbsp;they are generally found engaged in sports and pastimes with the Tatars,nbsp;and whiling away the time by no means unpleasantly in their company.

In the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, the sympathy is uniformly on the side of the Russians, and we never find members of the Tatar horde whonbsp;have any claim on our sympathy. Indeed the byliny not infrequentlynbsp;represent the opponents of the heroes in an unfavourable light. This isnbsp;especially the case with those to whom superhuman features arenbsp;attributed. These superhuman foes have been identified with thenbsp;Polovtsy. On the other hand the references to the Tatars proper arenbsp;comparatively liberal, and free from abuse, and it is not often that thenbsp;latter are represented in a strikingly unfavourable light. The poet nevernbsp;leaves us in any doubt, however, as to where his sympathies lie. Henbsp;always represents the Russians as victorious in their contests with thenbsp;Tatars, whether in warfare or sports, though he often represents thenbsp;latter as gaining an advantage at the outset.

There is no suggestion that the Russia of the byliny of the early Cycle extended beyond the valley of the Dn�pr, or that the Russian heroes arenbsp;to be found outside the orbit of Kiev. This is the more remarkable in

view of the fact that the poems give no hint of the recognition of the existence of any other nationalities settled in their midst or in theirnbsp;vicinity. The byliny never mention the Finnish and Mordvin tribes of thenbsp;north and east, or the Scandinavians of the Dn�pr. They never hint atnbsp;linguistic boundaries between one area of Russia and another, or ofnbsp;linguistic barriers between different classes of the population. Foreignersnbsp;sojourning in Kiev for however short a time become, for the poet,nbsp;�Orthodox Russian heroes�, and experience no difficulty in conversingnbsp;with the heroes of Vladimir�s court or with one another. It is a significant fact that the hero who undertakes to oppose Shark Velikan, one ofnbsp;the heathen foes of Orthodox Russia, is Dyuk Stepanovich, the son ofnbsp;a prince of Galicia, whose sojourn in Russia�i.e. Kiev�is a purelynbsp;temporary one (cf. p. 40 above). The other hero who is concerned tonbsp;vindicate the honour of Kiev against Shark is Churilo Plenkovich,nbsp;whose provenance is not clearly known, but who is certainly a strangernbsp;to Kiev, and whose name looks suspiciously Polish. Moreover thenbsp;heroes of the Kiev Cycle are drawn from widely separated districts,nbsp;not only outside Russia, but also from distant parts of Russia itself.nbsp;Ilya is a native of the Mordvin district of Murom in the east in allnbsp;modern versions of the byliny^ Alyosha comes from Rostov in thenbsp;north; Dobrynya from Ryazan in the centre. Yet there is no suggestionnbsp;that their interests are at variance in any respect with those of Kiev, ornbsp;that they owed any responsibilities to their own communities. There isnbsp;no hint of a clash of interests between one community and another.nbsp;Indeed outside the court of Kiev no community can be said to exist asnbsp;such in the poet�s world.

One of the chief claims of a hero to a place in heroic poetry in Russia, as elsewhere, is success in warfare. The warfare may be either singlenbsp;combat, or a battle in which large numbers of the enemy take part; butnbsp;on the Russian side it is all the same. Whether the heroes are opposing anbsp;single enemy or a whole army, we never hear of more than a handful atnbsp;most on the Russian side, and in the great majority of cases the heronbsp;fights alone. Thus it comes about that strategy or the science of war, ornbsp;good generalship, has no place in the byliny. The qualities most admirednbsp;in a hero are personal strength and exaggerated and foolhardy recklessness. With these he is ready to overcome single-handed any number ofnbsp;the foe. When the citizens of Volga�s three cities claim two kopecks fromnbsp;Mikula for the two bags of salt which he is carrying away, he lays aboutnbsp;him with his travelling whip:

When the River Dn�pr complains to Sukhan Doraantevich that she is oppressed by a Tatar army of thirty thousand men, Sukhan uprootsnbsp;an oak-tree with which to lay about him, and of all that Tatar host henbsp;leaves no more than three alive. This is heroic warfare indeed! Ornbsp;is it not nearer to folk-tale.^ There can be little doubt that these giganticnbsp;exaggerations of victory are a popular feature of the by liny and due tonbsp;the uncritical standards of an ignorant audience. In all probability theynbsp;are a comparatively modern development. It has already been mentionednbsp;that in all the versions of Tsar Kalin from Olonets recorded by Rybni-kov, Ilya and one or two companions are represented as victorious overnbsp;the Tatar host. But in the version recorded by the poet Mey from thenbsp;recitation of an old Siberian Cossack,� the battle is represented as anbsp;signal defeat for the Russian heroes. It is true they might have overcome the Tatar host which had come to destroy Kiev, had it not been fornbsp;the fact that for every Tatar slain two living Tatars sprang up to take hisnbsp;place. By such a device of poetic diction some ancient poet has sought tonbsp;symbolise the overwhelming numbers of the Tatar army, and the oddsnbsp;encountered by the little band of Russians on the lower Dn�pr. Butnbsp;the importance of this version lies in the fact that the last great battle ofnbsp;the Russian heroes is here represented as a defeat, like the great battle ofnbsp;Kosovo in Yugoslav epic poetry. There can be little doubt that thisnbsp;Siberian version represents an older redaction of the story than thenbsp;versions current in Olonets.3 We may compare the heroic raid of Prince ,nbsp;Igor and his brother narrated in the Slovo o Polky Igorev�, which alsonbsp;ends in a defeat for the Russian heroes.

The warfare of the Kiev Cycle is almost wholly defensive, and consists in warding off the inroads of the Tatar armies, and the raids ofnbsp;individual dragon and monster heroes, who, as we shall see, are sometimes frankly admitted to be Tatar chiefs. It follows that the usual incentives to war, such as personal motives, vengeance for wrongs ornbsp;insults, quarrels with relatives, desire of glory, and the like do not playnbsp;so large a part in the byliny as in the heroic poetry of the Greek and

3 Bezsonov regards the Siberian bylina as corrupt, and there are undoubtedly certain discrepancies in the narrative. There are nevertheless cogent reasons whichnbsp;need not be discussed here for regarding this version as representing the mostnbsp;conservative form of the tradition.

Teutonic peoples. Head hunting for its own sake appears to be unknown. In certain versions of Tsar Kalin the Tatar sends an envoy to demand that the Princess Apraxya be given up to him, and it is in answernbsp;to Vladimir�s appeal that his honour and that of the princess shall benbsp;vindicated that the heroes ride forth to encounter the Tatar host.nbsp;Similarly Churilo Plenkovich goes forth to single combat against Sharknbsp;Velikan in defence of the Princess Apraxya�an incident which may benbsp;a variant of the preliminary episode of the story of �Tsar Kalin�. Notnbsp;infrequently the cause of war is �tribute overdue�. It is for this causenbsp;that Tsar Bukhar leads an army against Prince Vladimir, and for thisnbsp;also that Vladimir sends Mikhailo Potyk to the north, where he overcomes the �muzhiks� in battle and obtains the tribute. Sometimes thenbsp;tribute is said to consist of water birds, but these appear to be � Whitenbsp;Swans�, in other words slave girls (cf. p. 123 below). Volga alone ofnbsp;the early heroes wages offensive warfare against the Turkish tsar. Therenbsp;can be no doubt that in this case the object is booty.

They went into the Turkish land. And took the Turkish host prisoners.nbsp;�My brave, my bold druzhina!nbsp;Let us now begin to divide the spoil.�nbsp;What was a dear bargain,nbsp;And what a cheap ?

Good steeds went for seven rubles. And a steel weapon for six rubles.nbsp;Sharp swords for five rubles.nbsp;Steel clubs for three rubles;nbsp;But the cheap bargain was the womenfolk,�nbsp;Old women were priced at a quarter of a kopeck,nbsp;And married women at half a kopeck.nbsp;And fair maidens at a halfpenny.�

The most striking and spectacular narratives of single combats in the byliny are fought between Russian heroes and superhuman enemies ofnbsp;Kiev. Of these we have a fine series. We may instance the two combatsnbsp;fought between Dobrynya Nikitich and Nev�zha, the serpent or dragonnbsp;of the Mountain, the first on the bank of a river in the Steppe or plains tonbsp;the south of Kiev, the second at the mouth of the mountain cavernnbsp;where the dragon has its home. In some versions Nev�zha is describednbsp;as a black crow,� in others as an ordinary bogatyr^ Again he is said to be

� Rybnikov, n. p. 590 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Ib. 11. p. 402 if.

THE HEROIC MILIEU nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;97

capable of assuming all these forms�'. Both Churilo Plenkovich and Dyuk Stepanovich are represented as fighting Shark Velikan (cf. p. 40 f.nbsp;above) ; but it is Dyuk who slays him. Ilya of Murom seeks out andnbsp;slays the Tatar Idolishche, who is represented as having conquered anbsp;Christian city and stabled his horses in the holy Churches. Finally wenbsp;may refer to the two great combats against Tugarin Zm�evich, Tugarinnbsp;�the Dragon�s Son�, which are variously attributed to Dobrynya�� andnbsp;Alyosha,3 and in which Tugarin is slain. Other instances of such combats between the heroes of Kiev and their superhuman or supernaturalnbsp;foes might be cited. Supernatural features are attributed to most of theirnbsp;enemies. They hiss like serpents, roar like aurochses, so that the glassnbsp;windows are shivered, and people fall stunned at the sound. Burningnbsp;flames pour forth from their mouths, and they are furnished with papernbsp;wings which are nevertheless strong enough to carry them through thenbsp;air.

It will be seen that the Russian heroes, who are in general without supernatural and superhuman attributes, are at a disadvantage in theirnbsp;single combats. It is to this disadvantage no doubt that we are tonbsp;attribute the serious want of fair play in their relations with theirnbsp;enemies. This absence of fairness often takes the form of downrightnbsp;trickery. Examples are numerous. One of the commonest of thesenbsp;tricks is disguise. It would seem that the kalamp;ki are sacrosanct in the eyesnbsp;of the enemy, and accordingly the Russian heroes are in the habit ofnbsp;approaching their enemies in the guise of kal�ki in order to put them offnbsp;their guard. It is in this way that Alyosha Popovich approaches Tugarinnbsp;in the version ascribed to Kirsha Danilov, and so also Ilya of Muromnbsp;approaches Idolishche. At other times the hero, unable to overcomenbsp;his enemy by force of arms, throws his kal�ka cap at him, and at thenbsp;touch of the sacred headdress the strength of the dragon-hero collapses.nbsp;It is not easy to see, however, how the heroes could have coped withnbsp;foes who are capable of flying through the air without superhuman aid.

Rybnikov, i. p. 79. Fragments of a bylina in which Dobrynya appears as the slayer of Tugarin are also recorded by Chulkov in his collection of Russiannbsp;The same collection contains a skix(ka which also represents Dobrynya as the hero ofnbsp;the exploit. See Bezsonov�s note, Krr�evski, 11. p. 79. We may compare also thenbsp;version from Simbirsk which describes Dobrynya as fighting a dragon of this name.nbsp;Ib. II, p. ff. Cf. ib. p. 49, where the dragon slain by Dobrynya seems to benbsp;Tugarin.

3 The exploit is attributed to Alyosha in Kirsha Danilov�s version, and in a prose story published by Afanasev, ii. p. 257 f., and elsewhere.

Accordingly the evening before a contest is usually spent by the heroes in prayer that a heavy shower of rain may fall to wet the enemy�s �papernbsp;wings so that he may � fall like a dog on to the damp earth Even whennbsp;Tugarin is thus disabled Alyosha has not the courage to meet his enemynbsp;in fair fight. He distracts him by a false statement so as to make himnbsp;turn momentarily to look behind him, and during the moment that henbsp;is off his guard Alyosha springs upon him and dispatches him, cuttingnbsp;off his head, which he carries back in triumph to Kiev. It is only fairnbsp;to add that the dragon-heroes for their part appear to have a verynbsp;irresponsible attitude to their own plighted word. Nev�zha has nonbsp;sooner given a promise to Dobrynya that he will never more enter thenbsp;city of Kiev or carry off Russian maidens than he comes flying overnbsp;Kiev and carries off Vladimir�s niece Zabava to his cavern in thenbsp;mountains; but then, as the poet does not omit to explain to us, �thenbsp;dragon was a perfidious dragon�.

In spite of the shameless breaches of honour to which we have just referred it is clear that certain standards are observed, and certain codesnbsp;and regulations accepted in matters of warfare and single combat.nbsp;Even after Tugarin has thrown a dagger at Alyosha, and Idolishche atnbsp;Ilya of Murom, the Russian heroes do not rush upon their adversariesnbsp;without due notice given. In each case the Russian arranges to meet hisnbsp;adversary early on the following morning in the open plain and there tonbsp;fight hand to hand. Despite ffie fact that Alyosha�s honour is badlynbsp;smirched by his behaviour in regard to Dobrynya�s wife during hisnbsp;absence, yet he fulfils the requirements of honour when the latter is slainnbsp;by the Tatar, and goes himself to seek Dobrynya and fight the Tatar whonbsp;has slain him. Indeed the heroes not unfrequently show a chivalrousnbsp;spirit in their dealings with one another. Dyuk Stepanovich, afternbsp;successfully leaping the Dnepr on his horse, does not fail to turn backnbsp;to rescue his defeated rival who is struggling in the middle of the river.

The picture which the byliny present of the individualistic outlook of the heroes and of their standards and methods of warfare, like that of thenbsp;heroic milieu, is to be accepted only with reserve. Once more we mustnbsp;remind ourselves that the byliny have been transmitted to us by annbsp;isolated and scattered population, whose political ideas can only be verynbsp;elementary, and who know nothing, or next to nothing, of warfare. Thenbsp;only prose literature on which their ideas can be modelled consists ofnbsp;or oral folk-tales. It is only to be expected, therefore, that interchange of influence will have taken place to a considerable extent betweennbsp;these two literary forms, and the influence of the ska:[ki on the byliny is

99 nowhere more marked than in the tendency to exaggeration, to losenbsp;touch with reality and verisimilitude in matters of heroic prowess, tonbsp;substitute the hero�s strong right arm for the assistance of a dru-^ina.nbsp;And there are other influences which have contributed to place thenbsp;fyliny at a definite remove from heroic tradition. Among the chief ofnbsp;these we may refer to the inevitable tendency of the peasants to interpret literally the figurative diction of the traditional style of courtnbsp;poetry, which has resulted in an extensive growth of supernaturalnbsp;features in the heroic narrative. Chief among these we may instance thenbsp;modern representation of the chief enemies of Kiev as fiery dragons.

Yet in spite of these reservations the picture of the society of Kiev is, on the whole, a picture of a heroic community, both in peace and in war.nbsp;The society is formed of a prince surrounded by his dmihina, a wealthynbsp;and leisured class, irresponsible, fond of display, proud and boastful,nbsp;recklessly daring and generally successful. Political thought is undeveloped, the outlook is individualistic and acquisitive, the warfarenbsp;consists chiefly of single combats carried on by a few of the leadingnbsp;heroes. Love of adventure is their predominating characteristic. In thisnbsp;society the strong and the boastful, the wealthy, and the beautiful arenbsp;destined to success and glory. In some respects Ilya of Murom may benbsp;thought of as an exception, but there can be little doubt that his peasantnbsp;attributes are comparatively recent and intrusive (cf. p. n8 below). Thenbsp;interest is distributed with an approximation to impartiality over a considerable number of heroes, each of whom is himself the centre of a heroicnbsp;adventure or a series of adventures. Moreover these heroes are depicted,nbsp;not in isolation, but in close relationship with one another. All this is thenbsp;material of heroic poetry and the picture of a heroic society, not of folktale. We hope in the following section to show that it is a picture derivednbsp;from heroic tradition which has a historical basis.

There is yet another factor which has tended to change the atmosphere of the heroic stories and detract from the high seriousness which we arenbsp;accustomed to associate with court poetry. This is the element ofnbsp;humour, which is rarely far away from the byliny, and is often introduced with considerable effect. By this device the singers succeed innbsp;humanising their narratives, and enlisting the sympathetic attention ofnbsp;the modern audience for stories which without it would soon grow jejune,nbsp;and would at all times be remote from modern interests. Instances comenbsp;crowding to the memory too numerous to quote�Kastryuk crawlingnbsp;on all fours under the stairs after his sorry failure in the wrestling bout;nbsp;Vladimir�s dilemma between his fear of angering the envoy Vasili and

his apprehension of losing his prisoner Stavr; Mikhailo�s rejection of Vladimir�s offer of towns and villages as an alternative to the privilegenbsp;of free drinks; Nastasya the polenitsa tucking her defeated pursuernbsp;comfortably in her pocket; Mikula�s treatment of the extortionatenbsp;mu:[hiks. More often the humour is seen in static but telling phraseologynbsp;�as a sign of fear:

Whoever was standing he left sitting. Whoever was sitting he left prostrate.nbsp;And whoever lay prostrate would never rise again;

Whoever he seized by the arm. That arm came off at the shoulder;nbsp;Whoever he caught by the leg.nbsp;That leg was no more.

It shows itself also in the daring exaggerations�the very abandon of high-spirited fun:

The youths wore kaftans of scarlet cloth... The boots on their feet were of green morocco.nbsp;The points were like the points of awls, and the heels high.nbsp;Round the tips an egg could be rolled;

Beneath the instep a sparrow could fly A sparrow could fly, could flit to and fro.'

In these passages of poetical shorthand the heroic singer tiptoes over our credulity. His high-spirited and reckless exaggerations resemblenbsp;those of Tatar heroic poetry and no other, and it is difficult to dissociatenbsp;both from the mentality of a people familiar with horses in full careernbsp;across the Steppe. To call it humour is too literal, and to call it exaggeration is sesquipedalian. Here the critical faculty is out of place. The singernbsp;compels the listener to his own mood, he gives us the high-spiritednbsp;irresponsible abandon of the poetical imagination in full gallop. Thenbsp;listener holds his breath in suspense, but he need not fear a stumble.nbsp;There is no bathos in the byliny.

The later Cycles of fyliny relate to times for which ample historical evidence is available. It is clear that they frequentlynbsp;distort historical fact, and that they also introduce elements manifestly unhistorical. But in general there can be no doubt that thenbsp;characters are historical persons, and that the events recorded in connection with them have some foundation in fact. The earlier Cycles,nbsp;however, relate to times for which the available historical evidence isnbsp;limited. Many of the characters still remain unidentified, and suchnbsp;historical evidence as bears directly on these is late and fragmentary.nbsp;Moreover such identifications as have been suggested are, more oftennbsp;than not, of a highly controversial character, and the evidence consistsnbsp;largely in a balance of probabilities. We propose, therefore, in thenbsp;following chapter to concentrate primarily on the historical elements innbsp;the early Cycles. We shall also have something to add on the unhistoricalnbsp;elements in both the early and the modern Cycles. When we reflect onnbsp;the wide field covered by the Russian byliny, and the number of characters involved, it is clear at the outset that we cannot hope in this briefnbsp;survey to cover the whole field. The most that we can hope to do is tonbsp;select a few of the most important and representative of the byliny ofnbsp;various Cycles for discussion.

We will take the Cycles in the order which is commonly regarded as chronological, beginning with the so-called �Older Heroes�, thennbsp;passing to the Kiev and Novgorod Cycles, and concluding this portionnbsp;of our study with one or two of the � medieval � byliny. In each Cycle wenbsp;will first consider the personnel and their relation to history. A wordnbsp;will then be added, where relevant, on the political geography of thenbsp;poems, and the conservatism with which the milieu has been preserved.nbsp;In the case of the Kiev Cycle certain elements generally regarded asnbsp;supernatural and unhistorical claim some attention, since we think thatnbsp;in some cases their origin and definite relation to history can be demonstrated. We will conclude with a brief discussion of some of the unhistorical elements in the cycles which have relation to more modernnbsp;times, from the sixteenth century down to our own day.

No serious claim to historicity has ever been made for Svyatogor, and the history of the group of stories relating to him is still obscure?nbsp;Nor has any historical foundation been established for Mikula. Thenbsp;fylina relating to him is believed to be of Novgorod provenance,^ and itnbsp;has been suggested with considerable probability that the person of thenbsp;hero is derived from a certain Mikula of Pskov, who is said to have beennbsp;a strong and powerful man of the peasant class {kerls}, who greetednbsp;with defiance the invading army of Ivan the Terrible. A Bulgariannbsp;Bogomil legend of a certain Prince Prov who meets Christ working atnbsp;the plough as he is on his way to collect his revenues, and invites him tonbsp;accompany him, may well be a variant of the motif which has formednbsp;another element in the story of Mikula.3

The question of the identity and historical origin of Volga has probably aroused more interest and controversy than that of any othernbsp;hero; yet there has been no agreement among scholars as to hisnbsp;prototype.'^ It is now generally held that in the bylina of Volga, twonbsp;by liny, originally distinct, have been combined, one relating to thenbsp;supreme hunter Volga and another, wholly independent of it, relating to the expedition of a hero (Volkh) into a foreign land.5nbsp;V. F. Miller� held that the story of Volga the hunter originated innbsp;the ska^anie or prose saga of the great hunting expeditions of thenbsp;Princess Olga incorporated in the Ancient Chronicle, with whom hisnbsp;name was originally identical. On the other hand in Russian literaturenbsp;the combination of the power of shape-changing and occult familiaritynbsp;with the animal world is not infrequently attributed to historicalnbsp;characters of early times, and notably to important military princes.nbsp;It is ascribed to Prince Oleg, brother of Rurik, who figures in thenbsp;Ancient Chronicle as leading liis dru^hina against Byzantium, likenbsp;Volga himself, and who is said to have been known as V�shchi, the Sagenbsp;or Sorcerer, on account of his wisdom. It is also ascribed to Vseslav,nbsp;� A fine study by Prof. Mazon �R.�.S. xii. 1932, p. 160 ff.), has recently givennbsp;us the data for a fresh approach to the subject on scientific lines. The net result is tonbsp;strengthen our belief in the unhistorical origin of the hero.

V. F. Miller, Ockerki, I. p. 168 ff.; cf. III. p. 38. Cf. Mazon, Bylines, p. 153 f.

3 Prof. Mazon has recently made a study of the bylina of Mikula (R.�.S. xi. 1931, p. 149 ff.) in which an account of the Bogomil legend, and of the personnbsp;of Mikula of Pskov are also given.

* A useful summary of some of the earlier suggestions which have been made will be found in an article by Schr�der, G.R.M. viii. (1920), p. 287 ff. See alsonbsp;Chadwick, p. 33 ff.

S This suggestion was first put forward by Shambinago. See Miller, Ockerki, in. p. 18.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Loc. cit.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY IO3 prince of Polotsk, in the Slovo o Polky Igorev�, and also to Princenbsp;Roman of Galicia, both in certain of the byliny, and in the so-callednbsp;Chronicle of Volhynia? It is a significant fact that the characteristicsnbsp;attributed to Roman, both in the Chronicle and in the bylina^ are almostnbsp;identical with those attributed to the hero Volga, the common variant ofnbsp;whose name {VolkJi} might perhaps be connected with Vlakh, thenbsp;Slavonic translation of Roman.

On the whole the historical element which can be traced in the byliny of Svyatogor, Mikula, and Volga may be regarded as negligible. It isnbsp;doubtless largely because of the unhistorical character and supernatural features of these byliny that they are commonly regarded asnbsp;having reference to an earlier period than any other Cycle. There is,nbsp;however, no clear evidence which points to such a conclusion, and innbsp;regard to Mikula it is not even probable that it is correct. The date ofnbsp;Volga�s historical prototype, if he had one, is still problematical, but wenbsp;have little doubt that the element of the marvellous entered into thenbsp;tradition in comparatively modern times�not earlier than the fifteenthnbsp;century, and probably later�and is due to a literal interpretation of thenbsp;highly figurative diction which was current in the traditional narrativenbsp;style of the Kiev school. The association of this figurative diction withnbsp;Volga in itself makes it probable that the hero belongs to this area, and to anbsp;period not much later than the composition of the Slovo o Polky Igorev�.

We will next turn to the Kiev Cycle, which undoubtedly has some connection with history, and with one of the two Vladimirs who rulednbsp;in Kiev, though it cannot be regarded as settled whether the Cyclenbsp;originally had reference to Vladimir I who was crowned in 980 and diednbsp;in 1015, or to his great-grandson who ruled from 1113101125. Manynbsp;of the heroes of the byliny of this Cycle are mentioned in the Chronicles,nbsp;though the Chroniclers are not always in agreement as to the period, ornbsp;even the century, to which they belonged. These references havenbsp;generally been accepted in the past by Western writers, both as anbsp;guarantee of the historical existence of the heroes, and also of theirnbsp;original association with the events in connection with which they arenbsp;named. Researches carried on in Russia during the last half century,nbsp;however, especially in connection with the early chronicles and with thenbsp;historical sagas {pov�sti and skayin�a) which they frequently incorporate,nbsp;have shown that these references to the early heroes are of very unequalnbsp;value.

' The exploits of Prince Roman and his brilliant punitive campaign against the Lithuanians are related in the Chronicle, s.a. 1196. See Rambaud, R.�. p. 239.

Of all the heroes of the Kiev Cycle, Alyosha Popovich is the one for whom we possess the fullest and most satisfactory�though not thenbsp;earliest�historical evidence. The Chronicles are not in entire agreement in regard to this hero, and their evidence is of very unequal value ;nbsp;but the evidence of the Chronicle of Tver (or, more properly Rostov)�nbsp;an authority of prime importance��makes it clear that according tonbsp;Rostov popular local tradition current in the thirteenth century, Alexander or Alyosha was originally in the service of the grand princenbsp;Vsevolod Yurevich (�Big-Nest�, 1176-1212) of Rostov. After thenbsp;death of Vsevolod, when his son Constantine obtained the city ofnbsp;Rostov, Alexander passed into the drti::{hina of Constantine, and isnbsp;frequently mentioned in the Chronicle as assisting Constantine in thenbsp;defence of Rostov against his elder brother Yuri. His servant Torop isnbsp;also mentioned as assisting in the fighting. In these dissensions between the brothers, Alexander performed such great exploits againstnbsp;Yuri�s followers that after the death of Constantine he thought itnbsp;expedient to flee to Kiev, together with his servant, and there � to servenbsp;the only Grand Prince in the mother city of Kiev�. Having arrived innbsp;Kiev Alexander, we are told, together with his tZrzz^Azna, �beat his forehead�� to the mighty prince Mstislav Romanovich, and the Grandnbsp;Prince prided himself and boasted greatly concerning them.3

These adventures of Alyosha and his dTU':[hina are related in the Pov�st or saga (incorporated in the Chronicle of Rostov) directlynbsp;before the account of the Battle of Kalka, concerning which thenbsp;Chronicler tells us :

�There took place the slaughter of the wicked for our sins, and there took place the victory over the Russian princes, the like of which hadnbsp;never taken place since the beginning of the Russian land.�

This battle is generally believed to be reflected in the bylina of Tsar Kalin�* (cf. p. 49 above). Enumerating those who had perished in thenbsp;battle, the writer of the Chronicle adds :

� Our information relating to this Chronicle and to the notices which it contains of Alexander Popovich is derived from Miller, Ocherki^ in. p. 74 ff.; the extractsnbsp;quoted below are from the texts contained in Brodski, etc., p. 105. Complete textsnbsp;of the Russian Chronicles, with the exception of those of Kiev and Novgorod,nbsp;have not been accessible to us.

�* The name Kalin is thought to be derived from the name of the river (Kalka) on which the great battle was fought between the Russians and the Tatars innbsp;1228.

�And Alexander Popovich was slain there with seventy other heroes {khrabr�e).�

A still earlier mention of the destruction of Alexander Popovich with his companions occurs in the Academy transcript of the Chroniclenbsp;of Suzdal. Here, however, the information is quite isolated, and whollynbsp;unconnected with what precedes or what follows, and it is not explainednbsp;who the hero was, the implication being that he is quite a well-knownnbsp;figure.^

Miller has shown that these notices of Alyosha Popovich are derived from contemporary local tradition, and has stressed the value of thenbsp;whole narrative of the Chronicle for the history of the byliny. �Wenbsp;have,� he writes, �no evidence more valuable for the history of ournbsp;native epos, generally so poor in written documents. These entriesnbsp;carry us into the spirit of Rostov in the thirteenth century, with itsnbsp;precious traditions of its local hero, Alexander Popovich.� The inclusion of the thirteenth-century local hero of Rostov in the Kiev Cyclenbsp;is no doubt to be accounted for by his final journey to Kiev, and thenbsp;position which he held in the dru^hina of the Grand Prince. His death innbsp;the Battle of Kalka against the Tatars would materially assist thisnbsp;inclusion.

If the tradition of the Chronicle of Tver relating to Alexander Popovich of Rostov be accepted as authentic, the results are of interestnbsp;in relation to the setting of the byliny in which he figures. He is at timesnbsp;represented as the slayer of Tugarin, �the Dragon�s Son�, though innbsp;variants his place as a protagonist is generally occupied by Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich. Now it is generally agreed 3 that Tugarin the Dragon�s Sonnbsp;is no other than Tugor Kan, one of a number of leaders or khans'^nbsp;of the Polovtsy. According to the Ancient Chronicle, Svyatopolk IInbsp;made a treaty with him in 1094 and married his daughter.3 Vladimirnbsp;Monomakh also married his son Andrey to Tugor�s grand-daughter;nbsp;but these marriages did not deter Tugor from further incursions. In

* Kan is a dialectal variant form of the Tatar word khan, �a chief�. The Polovtsy, or Kipchak Turks occupied the steppe and harassed the borders of thenbsp;southern Russian states on the Dnepr during the latter part of the eleventh and thenbsp;beginning of the twelfth centuries. They are better known among Europeannbsp;writers as Cumani. For an account of their history see A. Bruce Boswell, The Slavonicnbsp;Review, vi. p. 68 ff.

the year 1096, encouraged by a successful attack made by the Polovtsy under Bonyak and Kurya, he led an army to besiege Pereyaslavl.nbsp;Syvatopolk, likewise undeterred by close ties of marriage, togethernbsp;with his cousin Vladimir Monomakh, marched against Tugor. Thenbsp;Polovtsy were surprised and defeated. Many of their princes werenbsp;slain, and both Tugor and his son were killed in the ensuing battle.nbsp;Tugor�s body was discovered next morning, and Syvatopolk gavenbsp;orders that it should be brought to KLiev and buried near Berestovo.�nbsp;Such is the account of Tugor Kan in the oldest source which we possess.nbsp;This account, which seems to imply that Tugor was killed in honourablenbsp;warfare, was accepted by Solovev.� According to L. A. Magnus, thenbsp;�Chronicles� state that Tugor and his son were murdered by thenbsp;princess, i.e. his own daughter: which may be a later version of thenbsp;story.

This account of Tugor corresponds well enough in its main features with the Tugarin of the by liny. It makes him a contemporary ofnbsp;Vladimir II. Tugarin, stripped of his supernatural features, may wellnbsp;represent the Steppe nomad, whose marriage relations would suggestnbsp;that he was in the habit of frequenting Kiev on friendly terms, butnbsp;whose coarse habits and offensive table manners might naturally benbsp;distasteful to the city-dwelling Russians. It is clear, also, that Tugornbsp;was killed on Russian soil. But when we try to equate the slayer ofnbsp;Tugarin in the byliny with historical fact we are in a difficulty; fornbsp;Tugor was killed in 1096, while according to our best authoritiesnbsp;Alyosha Popovich of Rostov lived more than a hundred years later, andnbsp;was killed in 1224. If, therefore, Tugarin �the Dragon�s Son� is to benbsp;identified with Tugor Kan, as there seems no room to doubt, he cannotnbsp;have been killed by Alyosha Popovich. We may remember, however,nbsp;that a rival though less famous tradition ascribes the slaying of Tugor,nbsp;not to Alyosha, but to Dobrynya Nikitich, who may well have been anbsp;contemporary of Tugor K(h)an, as we shall see (cf. p. no below).nbsp;Indeed there are cogent reasons for regarding the latter tradition as thenbsp;more authentic.

Dobrynya Nikitich has generally been regarded as a historical figure, though his actual historical prototype has never been clearly established.nbsp;The early historical records of Russia mention several Dobrynyas. Thenbsp;earliest occurrence of the name is in the Ancient Chronicle, where anbsp;certain Dobrynya, uncle of Vladimir I, plays a prominent part as a

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY I07 zealous heathen and governor of Novgorod. The second person of thisnbsp;name is Dobrynya Raguilovich, voevoda of Mstislav Vladimirovich,nbsp;prince of Novgorod, who, according to the same authority, fought innbsp;1096 on behalf of his prince against Oleg and Yaroslav. He is probablynbsp;to be identified with the Dobrynya referred to in the Synodal transcriptnbsp;of the Chronicle of Novgorod, s.a. 1117, where it is stated thatnbsp;�Dobrynya, Posadnik of Novgorod, died on December 6�.^ A thirdnbsp;Dobrynya is mentioned as living in the thirteenth century, but on lessnbsp;satisfactory authority. Solovev tells us that a medieval Russian worknbsp;is still extant which records the journey of one Dobrynya Yadreykovichnbsp;to Tsargrad in 1210,� and the Chronicle of Nikon refers to onenbsp;Dobrynya of the Golden Belt of Ryazan, who is here stated to havenbsp;perished in the Battle of Kalka, with Alyosha Popovich and others.3

It will be seen that three independent traditions are recorded in the Chronicles, according to one of which Dobrynya lived in the time ofnbsp;Vladimir I, according to another in the time of Vladimir II, whereasnbsp;according to a third he is to be placed in the early part of the thirteenthnbsp;century. As regards the third tradition, it may be suggested here, however, that the reference in the Chronicle of Nikon can hardly be regardednbsp;as independent of heroic poetry; and indeed in one of Kirsha Danilov�snbsp;byliny devoted to Dobrynyathe hero is described as the son of a richnbsp;merchantnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;named Nikita, of Ryazan, a town on the River Oka,

which is a tributary of the Volga. When it is remembered that Nikon was born at Nizhni Novgorod, at the junction of the River Oka with thenbsp;Volga, in 1605, and that Kirsha Danilov�s collection was made in thenbsp;Province of Perm during the first half of the eighteenth century, the closenbsp;correspondence between the entry in the Chronicles and the opening linesnbsp;of Kirsha Danilov�s bylina need cause no surprise. Moreover it seemsnbsp;not impossible that the journey of Dobrynya Yadreykovich to Tsargrad in 1210 referred to in the �medieval work� mentioned by Solovevnbsp;is a reminiscence of Dobrynya�s journey to Tsargrad narrated in thenbsp;byliny, and that this passage also is not independent of heroic oralnbsp;tradition. The patronymic Yadreykovich looks suspiciously like anbsp;popular (oral) corruption (with metathesis of r and change of g to d) ofnbsp;the name Raguilovich, ascribed in the Ancient Chronicle to the secondnbsp;Dobrynya, who is represented as a contemporary of Vladimir II.

� Michell, Forbes and Beazley, Chronicle of Novgorod (London, 1914), s.a. 1117.

We will now turn to the first Dobrynya. In the poems Dobrynya is represented as the nephew of Prince Vladimir, and on the basis of thisnbsp;close relationship many scholars have sought to identify him withnbsp;Dobrynya, the uncle of Vladimir I, who is several times referred to in thenbsp;Ancient Chronicle. Thus s.a. 6478 (a.d. 970) we read that Vladimir wasnbsp;a son of Svyatoslav by Malusha, a serf and housekeeper to Olga, andnbsp;also sister to Dobrynya; that is to say, Dobrynya was Vladimir�s uncle,nbsp;and the close association between them is emphasised in the Chronicle.nbsp;In the same annal we read that when the men of Novgorod demanded anbsp;prince, Dobrynya suggested that Vladimir should be sent, �and the mennbsp;of Novgorod took Vladimir, and Vladimir went to Novgorod with hisnbsp;uncle Dobrynya�. Later (s.a. 6486-8), when Vladimir came to thenbsp;throne of Kiev, he established his uncle Dobrynya at Novgorod. Here,nbsp;we are told, Dobrynya set up an idol to Perun on the bank of thenbsp;Volkhov. Yet again later (s.a. 6493) we hear of Dobrynya going withnbsp;Vladimir by sea to make war on the Bulgarians, and helping him withnbsp;his prudent counsel.

The story of Dobrynya�s activities in Novgorod on behalf of Perun need not be regarded very seriously. The whole crude story of thenbsp;conversion by Vladimir I as related in the Ancient Chronicle is regardednbsp;with complete scepticism by all serious historians,� though some formnbsp;of oral tradition�no doubt of a highly popular character�undoubtedly lies behind it. With this story the story of Dobrynyanbsp;and Perun is closely bound up, and apparently of no more historicalnbsp;value.

Dobrynya is also associated with Vladimir I in the loakim Chronicle,� as well as in certain other Chronicles composed in modern times, suchnbsp;as the so-called Chronicle of Nikon.3 The loakim Chronicle, however,nbsp;represents Dobrynya as a zealous Christian, and offers us a vivid and

' See Klyuchevski, i. pp. 12, 16, 22; Laehr, p. 87 ff.; cf. also Braun, pp. 158, footnote I, 177 f.

� The so-called loakim Chronicle is incorporated in the first volume of Tatish-chev�s History of Russia. It was held in the past that its author availed himself of the earlier portion of the Chronicle of Novgorod which has not come down to us, andnbsp;which he attributes to loakim, the first bishop of Novgorod, though he does notnbsp;state on what grounds he makes this attribution. See Solovev, ill. i. col. 794.

3 Solovev points out (i. vii. 172, footnote t) that the account of the conversion of Novgorod in the loakim Chronicle is in no way at variance with the accountnbsp;incorporated in the Chronicle of Nikon, though Nikon mentions two missions,nbsp;whereas loakim specifies only the one in which he himself took part, telescopingnbsp;the narrative so that the two events are run into one.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY IO9 detailed account of the conversion of Novgorod by Dobrynya, with thenbsp;help of a certain Putyata, who is described as tysyatski of the city ofnbsp;Vladimir?

The account is strangely at variance with the notice already cited from the Ancient Chronicle, which would seem to represent Dobrynya as anbsp;devotee of Perun. If the account were genuine, we should have tonbsp;suppose, either that two contradictory traditions were current, or elsenbsp;that the conversion of Dobrynya himself intervened between his settingnbsp;up the idol of Perun, as recorded in the Ancient Chronicle, andnbsp;his forcible conversion of the men of Novgorod as recorded in thenbsp;loakim Chronicle. Despite the fact that the credibility of the loakimnbsp;Chronicle used by Tatishchev has been impugned in recent years,thenbsp;testimony of this document, together with that cited by Solovev (cf.nbsp;p. 108, footnote 2, above), makes it clear that traditions of the conversionnbsp;of Novgorod by Dobrynya were current in variant forms before thenbsp;middle of the seventeenth century.

In the Ancient Chronicle also Dobrynya is found as a contemporary of Putyata. Here Putyata figures in connection with events which arenbsp;strangely similar to those related in the Chronicles of loakim and Nikon.nbsp;In the Ancient Chronicle, however, these events are represented asnbsp;taking place, not in the time of Vladimir I, but in that of Vladimir II.nbsp;We must turn, therefore, to examine the data for the second traditionnbsp;before attempting to decide to which of these two reigns the originalnbsp;Dobrynya, the prototype of the hero of the byliny, actually belonged.

It must be confessed that until the Slavonic works impugning the authenticity of the loakim Chronicle are accessible, no such conclusionnbsp;can be wholly satisfactory, and perhaps a final judgment of the matternbsp;must be postponed until such works are available to us. In the meantime,nbsp;however, two important facts are clear. The first is that the portionnbsp;of the Ancient Chronicle which refers Dobrynya and Putyata to thenbsp;close of the reign of Svyatopolk and the beginning of the reign ofnbsp;Vladimir Monomakh is a contemporary document of unimpeachablenbsp;authority, while on the other hand it is now generally agreed amongnbsp;Russian historians that much of the material relating to the earlier

� The Old Slavonic text of the passage under discussion is given by Brodski, etc. p. 96 f. A modernised Russian version will be found in Solovev, i. vii. col.nbsp;171 f.

See Miller, Ocherki, I. p. 145. For further references to Slavonic works on this subject the reader may consult a note by Laehr, p. 143.

periods represented in the Ancient Chronicle is of a legendary character. The second is that a careful reading of the portions of this Chroniclenbsp;which relate to the reign of Yaropolk and his sons makes clear thenbsp;nature of the events which led to the circumstances in which Dobrynyanbsp;and Putyata were involved, and shows these circumstances to be thenbsp;natural result of a long chain of events culminating in the early years ofnbsp;the twelfth century. The authenticity of the narrative is all the morenbsp;probable in view of the fact that there is no hint in the record that thenbsp;chronicler was aware himself of the operation of cause and effect in thenbsp;events which he is recording.

According to the Ancient Chronicle (s.a. 6604 =a.d. 1096) a certain Dobrynya Raguilovich was voevoda of Mstislav Vladimirovich, princenbsp;of Novgorod, sometimes called Mstislav the Great. The same entry alsonbsp;makes mention of one Nikita who is said to have been bishop ofnbsp;Novgorod at this time. In the year 1117 the Chronicle of Novgorodnbsp;records the death of Dobrynya, a posadnik of the city, who in view of thenbsp;rarity of the name, may doubtless be identified with Dobrynya thenbsp;�voevoda�. In the entry in the Ancient Chronicle referred to above,nbsp;Dobrynya Raguilovich is said to have been in charge of an expeditionnbsp;organised by Mstislav against the Russian princes in the north, whonbsp;refused to Join Svyatopolk and Vladimir Monomakh in an alliancenbsp;which they were forming at this time to oppose the aggression of thenbsp;Polovtsy in the south. It is an interesting fact that the year 1096 tonbsp;which Dobrynya�s activities are referred was also the year which saw thenbsp;death of Tugor Kan in the great Polovtsy attack on Pereyaslavl. Thisnbsp;attack has generally been regarded as a raid; but the conduct of thenbsp;princes Oleg and Yaroslav, both at this time and in previous years,nbsp;suggests that concerted action was planned between them and the mainnbsp;Polovtsy body in the south, and that the simultaneous action of Mstislavnbsp;of Novgorod in the north, and of Svyatopolk and Vladimir Monomakhnbsp;on the southern Dn�pr, was planned in order to cut off the Polovtsynbsp;from their northern allies. Thanks to the vigorous and successfulnbsp;offensive of Dobrynya, backed by the able support of Mstislav, andnbsp;thanks also, we are told, to the prayers of the holy bishop Nikita, thisnbsp;plan was completely successful. The check given by Dobrynya to thenbsp;movements of the northern princes at the very moment when thenbsp;soutnern Polovtsy were attacking the cities of the Dn�pr doubtlessnbsp;accounts for the disaster suffered by the Polovtsy at Pereyaslavl and thenbsp;death of Tugor Kan. We have seen that according to one version of thenbsp;tradition Dobrynya Nikitich, and not Alyosha Popovich, was the slayer

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY III of Tugor Kan. There are cogent reasons�' for regarding this form of thenbsp;tradition as the original one, and the achievement of Dobrynya againstnbsp;the allies of the Polovtsy in the same year as that which saw the death ofnbsp;the Polovtsy chief in battle would support such a conclusion. We havenbsp;no historical evidence, it is true, that Dobrynya fought against thenbsp;actual Polovtsy; but his association with Mstislav, the son and close allynbsp;of Vladimir Monomakh in the great struggle against the Polovtsynbsp;aggression, would satisfactorily account for the inclusion of Dobrynyanbsp;in the Kiev Cycle. It seems to us not improbable that Dobrynya�s rarenbsp;patronymic Raguilovich has been forgotten in popular tradition, andnbsp;that the singers have substituted the more familiar name of Nikita ofnbsp;Novgorod, who was a contemporary of Dobrynya, and who is mentioned by the writer of the Ancient Chronicle as assisting Mstislav andnbsp;his voevoda with his prayers. Nikita doubtless stood officially to bothnbsp;Dobrynya and Mstislav in the position of spiritual �father�.

Dobrynya Raguilovich is also a contemporary of a certain Putyata who was voevoda of Kiev at the accession of Vladimir II. Of thisnbsp;Putyata the Ancient Chronicle has much to tell us, furnishing circumstantial details, not only of his own career, but also of that of his brother,nbsp;his father, and his grandfather. This evidence is valuable, since thisnbsp;portion of the Chronicle is a contemporary document. Since Dobrynyanbsp;and Putyata are thus contemporaries in both the Ancient and the loakimnbsp;Chronicles, and closely associated together in the latter and in thenbsp;Chronicle of Nikon, and since they are Christians in all three, we maynbsp;conclude that the account in the Ancient Chronicle is probably reliable,nbsp;especially as they are here represented as contemporaries of thenbsp;Chronicler himself.

Putyata is generally thought to be the prototype of the father of Zabava Putyatichna, who is commonly referred to in the byliny asnbsp;Vladimir�s � niece �. He appears in the byliny only rarely, but he is shownnbsp;in an unfavourable light, as a crafty and unscrupulous councillor. Wenbsp;may refer to the bylina of Danilo Lovchanin,� where Putyata advises thenbsp;prince to send Danilo to the island of Buyan in order that the princenbsp;himself may take possession of his beautiful wife. Further instances arenbsp;cited by Miller.3 Putyata�s daughter Zabava has an important place innbsp;the court of Kiev and plays a not inconsiderable r�le in the byliny.

� The reasons are literary rather than historical and cannot be given here. They are the result of a critical examination which we have made of the variant versions ofnbsp;the byliny relating to the slaying of Tugarin Zm�evich.

� Kir�evski, ni. p. 28. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Ocherki, ii. p. 29.

Miller held* that the unfavourable light in which Putyata appears in the hyliny is due to the unpopularity of his master Svyatopolk as indicatednbsp;to us in the account given in the Ancient Chronicle; but the events asnbsp;there related make it clear that Putyata himself belonged to an unpopular family and an unpopular party; and the story of Putyata asnbsp;related in the loakim Chronicle, though a widely different traditionnbsp;and referring to a different period, only serves to strengthen thisnbsp;impression.

In connection with certain entries cited above from the Ancient Chronicle which assign Dobrynya to the time of Vladimir I, referencenbsp;may perhaps be made to the hero Khoten Bludovich, whose patronymicnbsp;has been generally regarded as identical with that of Blud, the voevoda ofnbsp;Prince Yaropolk, to whom reference is made in the Ancient Chronicle.nbsp;Here we are told (s.a. 6486) that while Yaropolk was ruling in Kiev andnbsp;Vladimir in Novgorod, Vladimir marched against Kiev. Yaropolk shutnbsp;himself up in Kiev with his voevoda Blud and all his people. Vladimirnbsp;sent messengers to Blud, promising him that, if he would betray Yaropolk, and join his interests to his own, Vladimir would �take him asnbsp;father�. Blud consented to betray his master, and with his help Vladimirnbsp;obtained possession of Kiev. No other Blud is known in Russiannbsp;historical records, and the close association of Blud, voevoda ofnbsp;Yaropolk, with Vladimir makes it not improbable that he is the fathernbsp;of the Khoten who is one of the few heroes represented in the bylinynbsp;of this Cycle as a native of Kiev. It is interesting to observe that there isnbsp;evidence for regarding the names Khot, Khotov as peculiar to Novgorodnbsp;in historical times.�

The Chronicle of Novgorod makes mention of a certain Stavr, who was a sotski of the city in the time of Vladimir Monomakh. Accordingnbsp;to the Synodal transcript, which is the oldest existing transcript of thenbsp;Chronicle,3 Vladimir made all the boyars of Novgorod come to Kiev tonbsp;take the oath of allegiance in consequence of certain disturbances whichnbsp;had taken place in their city, after which he dismissed them to theirnbsp;homes. Others, however, including the sotski Stavr, he detained, and subsequently drowned in punishment for their having plundered two of thenbsp;citizens of Novgorod.�* Solovev makes no mention of the drowning; andnbsp;he understood the passage to mean that the boyars, as well as Stavr and

* Ocherki, ii. p. 28 fF.; ill. p. 35. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� See Miller, Ocherki, ii. p. 384.

3 See the note on the texts of the Chronicle by A. A. Shakhmatov in the English translation of the Chronicle by Michell, Forbes and Beazley, ed. cit. p. xxxvii.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY II3 his party, were guilty of the robbery? Miss Hapgood, in a note on Stavrnbsp;Godinovich, mentions that, according to the Chronicle of Novgorod,nbsp;�Vladimir Monomachus.. .summoned all the nobles of Novgorod tonbsp;Kiev, and made them take an oath of allegiance to him. Some he permitted to return home; others�among them Stavr�he sent into exile innbsp;wrath at some of their exploits.�� It would seem, therefore, that variantnbsp;versions of the Chronicle assign different punishments to Stavr, thoughnbsp;they appear to be in agreement that he belonged to Novgorod, and thatnbsp;he incurred Vladimir�s displeasure and suffered imprisonment. Thisnbsp;tradition is apparently the only occurrence of the name Stavr in Russiannbsp;written records. The name is not Slavonic in form. The form would benbsp;quite regular in Norse, though we do not know the word as a propernbsp;noun in Norse. Stavr may, nevertheless, be a descendant of one of thenbsp;Norse settlers at Novgorod. There can, we think, be little doubt that henbsp;is the historical person from whom the hero of the bylina is derived, andnbsp;the picture presented by the poets of the presence of the hero in sulkynbsp;and depressed mood at Vladimir�s court, and of his subsequent imprisonment, may well be a reflection of his detention in Kiev referred tonbsp;in the Chronicles. The substitution of Chernigov for Novgorod in thenbsp;byliny is not unnatural, seeing that Chernigov was, after Kiev, the mostnbsp;important city in Russia in early times, and figures incidentally in thenbsp;byliny of the Kiev Cycle, whereas Novgorod is practically outside theirnbsp;orbit. It is a curious and interesting fact that in the Synodal Transcriptnbsp;of the Chronicle of Novgorod, s.a. 1117, immediately before the annalnbsp;quoted above, we find the entry already cited (p. 107 above) referringnbsp;to the death of Dobrynya, Posadnik of Novgorod.3

Miller with great probability includes Stavr in a group of heroes who belonged originally to Novgorod and Novgorod tradition, but whonbsp;were incorporated at an early date into the Kiev Cycle.4 To this group henbsp;also assigns, among others, Dobrynya Nikitich, and there can be littlenbsp;doubt that this hero probably belonged originally to Novgorod. Thenbsp;non-heroic bylina which relates the journey of the �Forty and Onenbsp;Kal�ki� to Jerusalem (cf. p. 188 f. below), of which the hero is Kasyannbsp;Mikhailovich, is also ascribed by Miller to this group of Novgorodnbsp;traditions.5 In his opinion the framework of the journey is derived fromnbsp;the expedition of a party of forty from Novgorod, which took place in

* Solovev, II. iv. col. 372 f.; iii. i. col. 770 nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Songs, p. 267.

3 Michell, Chronicle of Novgorod, s.a. 1117. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Ocherki, III. p. 36 f.

5 Ib. p. 37 ff.�though in some versions of the bylina the �Forty-One Kal�ki� are stated to belong to Galicia.

the time of John, archbishop of Novgorod, during the reign of Rostislav in Kiev (f 1168), according to an account which has come to us from thenbsp;end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century. Onnbsp;to this apparently historical tradition of the journey, extraneous un-nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.

historical tradition, and perhaps earlier historical traditions also, have been grafted. In the earliest versions of the bylina Prince Vladimir isnbsp;represented as engaged on a hunting expedition beyond Kiev, andnbsp;Miller points out that the incident probably reflects Monomakh�s love ofnbsp;travel and sport. Rostislav himself has been forgotten.

No historical prototypes ofDyuk and Churilo have been satisfactorily established, but Miller has shown grounds for regarding the bylinynbsp;relating to these heroes as embodying a group of traditions and propernbsp;names derived from Galicia and Volhynia. To this group he assignednbsp;also Dunay Ivanovich and Mikhailo Potyk, or Potok. He held that thesenbsp;names, and the stories associated with them, were incorporated into thenbsp;Russian epos during the brief political and economic prosperity enjoyednbsp;by Galicia and Volhynia in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; and henbsp;assigned the composition of the bylina of Dyuk to the end of the twelfthnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�

or beginning of the thirteenth century, i.e. shortly after the period of Yaroslav Osmomysl of Galicia, a time when Galicia was in particularlynbsp;close touch with Byzantium.* This would, of course, preclude thenbsp;association ofDyuk with Sharu Khan (cf. p. 119 below) if the originalnbsp;bylina of Dyuk was derived from a contemporary, or almost contemporary work. Miller is doubtless right in regarding the name Churilo,nbsp;with its variants, as of Galician or Polish origin, though we are in thenbsp;dark as to his exact milieu. Miller pointed out that the byliny relating tonbsp;him show, in their present form, traces of the sphere of cultural influencenbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;j

of Novgorod. He held that the entire group of Galician poems have been grafted on to the Vladimir Cycle, perhaps at a time when thenbsp;cultural traditions of Kiev passed westwards into Galicia on the downfall of Kiev, and that they then again passed north into the sphere ofnbsp;Novgorod and perhaps into Suzdal also, through the medium of tradenbsp;and other channels.�nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;S

Miller^ showed that the person of Mikhailo Potyk was historical, and nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�

that his adventures were founded on fact, and in one of his latest studies Miller made it clear that he still adhered to his original opinion.^ If

� Ocherki, I. p. 97 ff.; Ill, pp. 50, 54. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;!� P- 187 ff.; ill. p. 50 f,

�* Ib. III. p. 52 f. The article here referred to was probably written in 1912, but was not published till 1924, eleven years after his death.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.1

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY I15 they are right Mikhailo Potyk is to be identified with St Michel denbsp;Potuka, a Bulgarian saint, who is believed to have lived in the second halfnbsp;of the ninth century. He must therefore have been among the earliestnbsp;Christians in Bulgaria. According to the traditional life of the saint, henbsp;fought as a young man in the Byzantine army, and when the Greeksnbsp;were driven back in an encounter with an invading pagan force ofnbsp;�Agarians� and �Ethiopians�, Michel and his dru^hina rushed to theirnbsp;rescue, boldly hurling themselves on the foe whom they utterly routed.nbsp;As he was returning to his home in the town of Potuka he chanced tonbsp;pass by a lake where a dragon lived and preyed on the children sent bynbsp;lot from the neighbouring town. On this occasion a maiden sat awaitingnbsp;her doom. Michel boldly slew the dragon and rescued the maiden, butnbsp;in the encounter he received a mortal wound and died shortly afterwards. In the town of Potuka where he was buried miracles were workednbsp;at his tomb, and in 1206, when the Bulgarian Tsar Kaloyan captured thenbsp;town of Potuka, he ordered the relics of the saint to be transferred tonbsp;his new capital of Trnovo. The transference was carried out with greatnbsp;pomp, and Miller suggested that it was at this period, when the legendnbsp;would naturally receive a renewed vogue, that the fame of St Michel ofnbsp;Potuka spread across the Bulgarian frontier and reached Russia by waynbsp;of Galicia, whose possessions on the lower Danube actually marchednbsp;with Bulgaria at this period.^

It will be seen that the story corresponds to the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk in many respects. Both relate to a hero whose name is identical.nbsp;Both heroes are great warriors, who fight and overcome a great army ofnbsp;pagan invaders. As they are journeying along a lake they find an unprotected maiden who comes under their power or protection. At somenbsp;point in the story they encounter a dragon or serpent which comes tonbsp;claim or devour the maiden, and over which the hero is victorious. Theynbsp;themselves enter the tomb while still young�whether alive or dead.nbsp;After entering the tomb they obtain supernatural power�the power tonbsp;work miracles. This miraculous power is certainly connected with thenbsp;dragon or serpent in the byliny^ and would seem to be at least verynbsp;closely connected with the slaying of the dragon in the life of the saint.nbsp;Several of these common features are commonplace enough, and can benbsp;widely paralleled both in folk-tale and in hagiographical literature. Yetnbsp;their occurrence in close juxtaposition, and, with the exception of thenbsp;encounter with the dragon, in almost identical order in both literatures,nbsp;and in connection with a hero of identical name, is very striking.

Dum�zil has recently challenged^ Miller�s conclusion that the Russian story is derived from the Bulgarian, and suggests that it originatesnbsp;rather in an Indo-European myth; but his arguments cannot be considered convincing, and Miller�s conclusions are now generally accepted?

Certain of the heroes have been identified with historical figures of a later period than those hitherto discussed. We may refer to Dunaynbsp;Ivanovich and Sukhan Domantevich. The name Dunay is found frequently in the records of the wars of Prince Vladimir of Volhynianbsp;during the thirteenth century. Thus the Ipat�vski Chronicle records thenbsp;fact that in 1281 Dunay led the drus^hina of his prince against the Poles.nbsp;In the following year he is referred to as the voevoda sent by Vladimirnbsp;to enrol the Lithuanians as allies. He plays a striking part in the eventsnbsp;recorded in 1287. W hen Konrad Semovitovich succeeded to the government of Cracow on the death of Prince Leshko Kasimirovich, he sentnbsp;to Prince Vladimir, on whose help he was in part dependent, and whonbsp;was himself incapacitated by a wound, asking him to send his voevodanbsp;Dunay as his representative in order to secure Konrad�s position. Thenbsp;request was granted. The incident is a striking testimony both tonbsp;Dunay�s fame and to the high trust in which Vladimir held him. Thenbsp;correspondence in the name, the fact that both Dunays serve a Princenbsp;Vladimir, and both occur in close relationship with a Polish prince,nbsp;suggested to Miller^ that the name of the Volhynian prince Dunay maynbsp;have been preserved in local traditions and in the poems of the dru^hinanbsp;in connection with the name of Prince Vladimir whom he served, andnbsp;thus have been incorporated in the course of time into the Kiev Cycle,nbsp;where he appears in byliny as the hero Tikhi Dunay Ivanovich.

Miller has shown^ that Sukhan Domantevich (cf. p. 139 if. below), more frequently referred to in the byliny-as, Sukhmanti, has certain featuresnbsp;in common with Domant, Prince of Pskov, who is frequently mentioned in chronicles and early historical documents, and who died innbsp;1299. Domant defended the city of Pskov against a large host of pagannbsp;invaders, as Sukhan defended Kiev against the Tatars. Like Sukhan henbsp;was heavily outnumbered by the opposing forces, and like Sukhan henbsp;boldly crossed the river (Dvina) and defended it against the enemy whonbsp;were trying to cross. Many similar battles are attributed to him, and thenbsp;entries in the Chronicles refer to him in a tone of exaltation, and with thenbsp;exaggeration and lack of verisimilitude reminiscent of heroic poetry.nbsp;Such exploits are, of course, common enough in the records of the time,

' R.�.S. V (1925), p. 205 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Cf. Mazon, Bylines, p. 691.

3 Ockerki, I. p. 130 if.; cf. m. p. 53. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Ib. III. p. 167 ff.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY liy as well as in heroic poetry; but the correspondence in the names is allnbsp;the more striking in view of the fact that both Sukhan and Domant arenbsp;rare. Miller considered that the exploits of Prince Domant have beennbsp;transferred to his son by the popular singers, and he hints that in thenbsp;byliny of Sukhan we may possibly possess the last relics of the popularnbsp;oral tradition of Pskov, though he obviously regards the last suggestionnbsp;as hazardous.

Many other identifications have been suggested, too numerous to mention here. We may refer, among others, to Miller�s collection ofnbsp;data bearing on the identity of Vladimir�s wife.^ He points out thatnbsp;her name appears in a number of forms in the byliny, and that these formsnbsp;are all variations of two distinct names, Apraxya and Evfrosin�a, thenbsp;former being the commoner in modern oral tradition. The name Apraxyanbsp;is, in his opinion, an amalgamation of two traditions, one of her namesnbsp;being derived from Evpraksi, the wife of Prince Theodore of Ryazan,nbsp;who plays a prominent part in early accounts of the Tatar invasion undernbsp;Batu in the first half of the thirteenth century. The name Ofrosininbsp;(Evfrosin�a) he regards as derived from St Evfrosin�a (1101-1179), anbsp;princess of Polotsk.

We have left Ilya Muromets (Ilya of Murom), the most important of the heroes, until the last because the question of his identity is closelynbsp;bound up with that of Prince Vladimir. Ilya is mentioned in variousnbsp;Russian written records from 1574 onwards,� and Miller has shown3 thatnbsp;a comparison of these early notices with the early versions of thenbsp;byliny makes it clear that the original name of the hero was not Muromets, but Murovets, and that the home of the hero was not Murom innbsp;central Russia, but the ancient Morovsk (Morovisk), in the valley ofnbsp;the Dn�pr, which belonged to the principality of Chernigov in thenbsp;twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and is frequently mentioned in thenbsp;Chronicles as a dependency of Chernigov. We may suppose thatnbsp;Karachaevo or Karachoro made its appearance in the poem as a reminiscence of the more southerly city Karachev, the ancient seat of thenbsp;princes of Chernigov, mentioned in a Chronicle in the beginning of thenbsp;twelfth century. Neither the epithet �old�, nor the epithet �Kossack�,nbsp;belong to the earliest versions of the byliny of Ilya, and they appear tonbsp;have been first applied to the hero in Ae seventeenth century,�*

' Ocherki, II. p. 359 fE; and cf. ib. I. p. 321 fF., and the references there cited.

� These notices have been brought togedier in a careful summary in Russian by V. F. Miller {Ocherki, ill. p. 68 f.) and, more recently in German, by E. Studer,nbsp;p. 24 ff.

3 Ocherki, in. pp. 3 ff., 61 ff., 118 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;lt; Ib. iii. pp. 91 if., 136 ff.

German tradition, as represented by the early Norse text of the Thi^reks Saga af Bern, and the Middle High German poem Ortnit, bothnbsp;composed during the thirteenth century, show that already before thisnbsp;period oral traditions were in existence relating to a Russian hero of thenbsp;name of Ilias, who was of high rank, and a close relative of a certainnbsp;prince Valldimar (Vladimir). It would seem natural to suppose that thenbsp;German tradition has incorporated some early version of a traditionnbsp;relating to Ilya of Murom, or, more correctly, of Murovsk; but such annbsp;identification has not met with general acceptance. Veselovski regardednbsp;the Valldimar of the Thibreks Saga as relating to a certain princenbsp;Vladimir of Polotsk, who lived at the close of the twelfth and beginningnbsp;of the thirteenth century,^ and in a more recent study of the wholenbsp;question Prof. Mazon� expresses himself unable to see any seriousnbsp;ground for the identification of the Norse or German stories with thenbsp;hero of the by liny.

Yet it may be pointed out that both heroes are located in Russia; both are great champions; both are contemporaries of Vladimir (Valldimar)nbsp;and closely associated with him ; and both render him assistance by theirnbsp;wise counsel and prowess in arms. If we are to suppose, with Prof.nbsp;Mazon, that the Russian Ilya is not the same person as the western Ilyas,nbsp;we are reduced to assuming that two Russian heroes called Ilya, closelynbsp;related to two Russian princes called Vladimir, and possessing certainnbsp;common features, flourished at some period before the middle of thenbsp;thirteenth century, and that while one of these Russian heroes wasnbsp;sufficiently famous to have found a place in Norse and German traditionnbsp;of the thirteenth century, the other was sufficiently famous to havenbsp;made for himself a place in Russian tradition which has lasted down tonbsp;our own time. The most probable view on the whole would seem to benbsp;that the name and tradition of the Ilyas of the ThitSreks Saga and ofnbsp;Ortnit are derived from south-west Russian oral tradition at some periodnbsp;prior to the middle of the thirteenth century.3

� Miller, Ocherki, in. p. 82 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. Ilya, p. 669 ff.

3 In the early Norse V�lsungasaga, ch. 32 the names Valdamarr and Jarisleifr (i.e. Yaroslav) occur in a passage which is derived from GiiSr�narkviSa, ii, str. 20.nbsp;The text of the latter as we have it has Valdarr for Valdamarr, and also a thirdnbsp;name Jarv^sc�re which seems to be Russian. Valdarr or Valdamarr is in bothnbsp;cases associated with Denmark or the Danes. But both passages would seem tonbsp;make it clear that Russian princes were familiar in Norse heroic poetry in thenbsp;thirteenth century. Both Vladimir (I and II) and Yaroslav were, of course,nbsp;familiar enough in Scandinavia from historical saga. But the milieu here isnbsp;clearly that of minstrel poetry. Cf. also Hervarar Saga, ch. 12.

We will now turn attention to the group of heroes or monsters who are represented as in opposition to the heroes of Kiev. Despite thenbsp;supernatural features which are persistently attributed to them, manynbsp;of these monsters have been identified with the Polovtsy leaders. Itnbsp;would be interesting, if time permitted, to examine these supernaturalnbsp;features with a view to ascertaining how far they are due to the traditional figurative diction in which the minstrels loved to clothe thosenbsp;characteristics of their enemies which struck them as most bizarre andnbsp;remote from their own experience. We may, indeed, refer to one ornbsp;two instances. We have already seen that Tugor K(h)an is to be identifiednbsp;with the Polovtsy leader of the same name, though he is represented innbsp;the byliny as the son of a dragon, and as flying through the sky on hisnbsp;paper wings. Miller and others have also pointed to references in thenbsp;byliny and prose traditions to his contemporary, the Polovtsy chiefnbsp;Konchak, who figures in the Ancient Chronicle and in the Slovo onbsp;Polky Igor eve, as well as to his father Otrok (more correctly Atrak). Innbsp;a prose narrative from Archangel, Konchak and his two brothers arenbsp;represented as so strong that while far apart they are able to hurlnbsp;cauldrons to one another as if they were balls.^ We may refer alsonbsp;to Shark Velikan, who, according to a rare bylina, was the friend andnbsp;ally of Churilo Plenkovich,^ and who, according to another rare bylina,nbsp;was slain in single combat by Dyuk Stepanovich.3 He is described asnbsp;half man, half horse, who is unable to walk against his enemy, but rollsnbsp;now to one side, now to another. Rambaud, commenting on thesenbsp;features, observed: �C�est un reptile plut�t qu�un h�ros; on sent que cenbsp;g�ant doit �tre quelque brouillard ou quelque nu�e d�orage.�'* It is nownbsp;generally believed, however, that the original of this humorouslynbsp;grotesque portrait^ was Sharukan or Sharu Kan �the old�, anothernbsp;great Polovtsy chief, and ally of Bonyak, with whom he raided Pereyaslavl and laid siege to Lubny on the Sula in 1107. His daughter was thenbsp;wife of David, son of Svyatoslav II, grand prince of Kiev.^ Sharu Kannbsp;was severely defeated in 1111 by the Russian princes Svyatopolk, Davidnbsp;and Vladimir in a great battle in the neighbourhood of the R. Don. Ifnbsp;the name of Shark Velikan is actually derived from that of Sharu Kan, itnbsp;is possible that the adjective Veliki, �great�, has been habitually insertednbsp;in popular speech as a standing epithet (? Sharu Veliki Kan), and thatnbsp;his title has then undergone certain phonetic changes�^perhaps pro-

' Miller, Ocherki, in. p. 43 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Rybnikov, n. p. 701.

3 Ib. p. 697. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�* La Russie �pique (Paris 1876), p. 45.

5 Kir�evski, iv. p. cxv. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Miller, Ocherki, II. p. 377.

lepsis and haplology. The minstrels have been impressed by the Polovtsy chief�s expert horsemanship and his reluctance to leave the saddle, andnbsp;his discomfort when on foot, and they laugh, like many modemnbsp;travellers, at the awkward and rolling gait of the Tatar when he is compelled to the unfamiliar exercise of the pedestrian.

One of the most interesting of the supernatural or supernormal of the foes of Kiev is Solovey Rakhmatovich or Rakhmanovich, otherwisenbsp;known as Solovey Razboynik, �Nightingale the Robber�. It is to benbsp;observed that the patronymic is found only in versions from Olonetsnbsp;and Archangel, while versions from other parts of Russia and Siberianbsp;know only Solovey Razboynik. Miller has shown cogent reasons fornbsp;regarding the patronymic as derived from the form Akhmatov, Akhmatovich, to which an initial r has become attached from the epithet vor,nbsp;�thief�, �robber�; and indeed Kir�evski^ actually records a version fromnbsp;Archangel in which the form vor Akhmatovich occurs. Miller furthernbsp;points� to the name of a certain Tatar khan Akhmat, who was renownednbsp;for his campaign against Moscow and his lengthy encampment on thenbsp;R. Ugra in 1480. It is very possible that, as Miller suggests, about thenbsp;beginning of the sixteenth century the memory of Khan Akhmat�snbsp;expedition and his subsequent flight may have caused his name to benbsp;attached to another robber Solovey. This conjecture is perhapsnbsp;strengthened by the fact that in one bylina Solovey figures as a Mussulman and a destroyer of monasteries.

We have now considered a certain amount of evidence which should be of assistance in helping us to determine the identity of Vladimir,nbsp;�Prince of royal Kiev�, who is present throughout the Cycle as thenbsp;constant central figure. It will be remembered that at least three Vladimirsnbsp;have been laid under contribution by the minstrels; but no one, wenbsp;suppose, would seriously consider Dunay�s prince, the thirteenthcentury Vladimir of Volhynia, as the prototype of the Vladimir of thenbsp;by liny. Opinion has varied greatly as to whether Vladimir I, who isnbsp;credited in the Ancient Chronicle with the Conversion of Russia in 988,nbsp;or Vladimir II, who ascended the throne in 1113, is the person originallynbsp;indicated. Both were princes of outstanding importance for Russiannbsp;history; both were constantly engaged in defending the Christian statenbsp;of Kiev against the inroads of the pagan tribes of Turkish stock�nbsp;Vladimir I against the Pechenegs, Vladimir II against the Polovtsy.nbsp;Both entered into diplomatic relations with Byzantium.3

' I. p. 77 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;2 Ocherki, m. p. 133.

3 See further the parallels adduced by Zhdanov, cited by Miller, Ocherki, in. p. 33.

Nevertheless there can in our opinion be little doubt that the cycle of stories, as distinct from the actual by liny in its present form and as anbsp;unity, originated, or at least has to some extent undergone reconstruction in the time of Vladimir 11, and perhaps at subsequent periods also?nbsp;The considerations which point to diis conclusion are many and varied.nbsp;In the first place the evidence which assigns heroes of byliny to the reignnbsp;of Vladimir II or a later period is on the whole of a more satisfactorynbsp;character than that which relates to the time of Vladimir I. Of the list ofnbsp;heroes who have been selected for consideration as representative of thenbsp;Cycle as a whole, Blud, the hypothetical father of Khoten Bludovich, isnbsp;the only hero who can be related to the period of Vladimir I with anynbsp;show of credibility; while to the period of Monomakh, or that whichnbsp;closely precedes or follows, there are good grounds for ascribingnbsp;Dobrynya, Putyata (the hypothetical father of Vladimir�s niece, Zabavanbsp;Putyatichna), Stavr, Evfrosin�a (Apraxya), perhaps Ilya of Murom, andnbsp;possibly also Dyuk ; and the Polovtsy chiefs Tugor, Shark Velikannbsp;(Sharu Khan), Konchak and Otrok. To the following century arenbsp;probably to be ascribed Alyosha Popovich, Mikhailo Potyk, Dunaynbsp;Ivanovich, Apraxya, and possibly Sukhan Domantevich. Others whomnbsp;we have not mentioned might be added, such as Kazarin, Ivan Gostinnynbsp;Syn, etc. Solovey Razboynik appears to be still later.

The Cycle of byliny relating to Kiev and Prince Vladimir was certainly not completed in the reign of either prince of this name. New subjects were added, and new heroes included, at least as late as thenbsp;thirteenth century, and perhaps later. Modem Russian scholars are innbsp;agreement that in the bylina relating to Tsar Kalin and the destruction ofnbsp;the heroes of Kiev, we have a reminiscence of the disastrous battle on thenbsp;Kalka, in which the Russians were overthrown by the Tatars in 1224.nbsp;However this may be, there can be little doubt that some of the principalnbsp;heroes of the Cycle make their first appearance in history during thenbsp;thirteenth century.

The political geography of the byliny of this Cycle is surprisingly conservative. It has preserved with considerable fidelity the memory ofnbsp;the city-state on the Dn�pr, and the local and restricted sphere of itsnbsp;influence. It knows nothing of Russia in the modem connotation of thenbsp;word, or of any Russian cities except those in the valley of the Dn�pr,nbsp;and the ancient ecclesiastical city of Rostov in the north. Chernigov is

� Miller considered that during the sixteenth century, and notably during the latter half, the subjects of the old byliny underwent a restoration, bringing them intonbsp;conformity with contemporary conditions. See Ocherki, iii. p. i68.

at the height of its power and importance, and the rivalry between the two neighbouring cities of Kiev and Chernigov is reflected in more thannbsp;one bylina. Novgorod is outside the orbit, and Moscow has not yetnbsp;come into being. Ryazan is mentioned rarely.

Among the historical elements preserved in the byliny we must also mention the natural features and physical geography of south Russia.nbsp;The singers make constant reference to the characteristic features of thenbsp;south Russian landscape which neither they nor their immediatenbsp;ancestors have ever seen�the �open plain�, the �feather-grass of thenbsp;steppe�, the �aurochs� which has long been extinct. The use of obsoletenbsp;words also suggests that the byliny have retained traces of some earliernbsp;actual milieu. A hero is known as khrabry and bogatyr/ the latternbsp;word being later than the former, and borrowed from the Tatars at somenbsp;period of the T atar inroads. The byliny frequently mention the polenitsy ornbsp;heroines who fight like men, though the term has been forgotten fornbsp;many centuries in current Russian and was unknown even to lexicographers. Many of the features which are doubtless genuine historicalnbsp;reminiscences are retained in an obscure form which almost evadesnbsp;detection. We may refer to the mutual oaths sworn by Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich and the � dragon of the Mountain�, by which Dobrynya undertakes never more to ride in the open plain, or bathe in the river, or molestnbsp;young �dragons�, or rescue Russian captives, while the �dragon� undertakes never again to fly over Kiev and carry off young maidens. Thisnbsp;compact suggests the ancient though short-lived division of south-westnbsp;Russia between the Russians and the Polovtsy, by which the Polovtsynbsp;occupied the southern steppe, and necessarily set enormous store bynbsp;their rights over the rivers, while the Russians occupied the cities andnbsp;the upper valley of the Dn�pr.

Yet on the whole it must be confessed that the contact of these early Cycles with ascertained historical fact is slight, and, in general, problematical. The nature of the stories would seem to render any detailednbsp;discussion of their unhistorical elements otiose. These elements consistnbsp;for the most part, as we have seen, of exaggeration rather than of supernatural features, though the latter are not absent. We have no evidencenbsp;for the introduction of deliberate fiction. The rarity of the overlappingnbsp;of the different Cycles suggests a considerable amount of literarynbsp;conscience on the part of the reciters in regard to the integrity of theirnbsp;material. To this subject we shall refer later.

The most considerable element of manifestly supernatural material in � The word is said to be identical with the Turkish bokadyr, �a champion�.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS.IN BYLINY I23 the byliny lies in the frequent introductions of dragons and white swans.nbsp;The �dragons�, however, have been shown in the majority of cases tonbsp;be no other than Polovtsy or Tatar chiefs, and there can be little doubtnbsp;that in many cases their supernatural features have come to be ascribednbsp;to them largely, though not wholly, in consequence of the epithet, as innbsp;the case of Tugarin, Shark Velikan, Idolishche. In some cases the supernatural features have no doubt been introduced from folk-tale motifs, innbsp;which dragons figure largely. Where the theme of such folk-talesnbsp;originally bore some resemblance to that of the bylina, the introductionnbsp;of the former into the latter can easily be accounted for, as in the case ofnbsp;Mikhailo Potyk. In other cases again the epithet of dragon is stillnbsp;remembered by many of the reciters to be merely a term of poeticnbsp;diction for a �Tatar� (.^ Polovtsy) chief. This is so in regard to thenbsp;dragon of the mountain slain by Dobrynya. The fact that the termnbsp;�dragon� is never applied to Russian chiefs, but is reserved exclusivelynbsp;for their enemies, has no doubt been of material assistance in aidingnbsp;the introduction of supernatural attributes and episodes.

The �white swan� seems to have had a somewhat similar history to the �dragon�. Like the latter the term �white swan� clearly originatednbsp;as a term of figurative diction. It is used as a poetical or figurativenbsp;epithet of a maiden in the Slovo o Polky Igor eve, and also in modernnbsp;poetry relating to unspecified individuals and social ritual. In thenbsp;byliny it seems to be applied, like the term �dragon�, exclusively tonbsp;foreigners, especially to the western neighbours of the Russians, whethernbsp;Lithuanians, Poles, or others. The conception as we have it in thenbsp;byliny is strikingly similar to that of the vile of the Yugoslavs, andnbsp;the samovilen of Bulgaria, more especially to the latter, who, like thenbsp;white swans, are invariably represented as mischievous in intention. Thenbsp;maidens described as white swans in the byliny generally possess supernatural powers, such as shape-changing, and the ability to transform thenbsp;shapes of others. Here again the application of the term to foreigners,nbsp;and especially to races inimical to the Russians, has no doubt facilitatednbsp;the introduction of supernatural features. The fact that the white swannbsp;figures largely in folk-tales is also no doubt to some extent responsiblenbsp;for the introduction of supernatural elements and episodes in connection with them, as we have seen to be the case in regard to the dragons.nbsp;Here again we may instance the case of Mikhailo Potyk, and also of Ivannbsp;Godinovich. It is a curious and interesting fact that the dragon and thenbsp;white swan appear to be commonly found in the same byliny, and to benbsp;in some way associated together.

A historical origin has generally been claimed in the past for the two principal heroes of the Novgorod Cycle, though here, as in the Kievnbsp;Cycle, the accretion of myth and legend appears to be far greater thannbsp;the historical kernel. Sadko is generally regarded as identical with anbsp;famous Sadko who is mentioned in the Chronicles of Novgorod andnbsp;Pskov as the founder of the Church of Saints Boris and Gleb in Novgorod. According to the Synodal transcript�the oldest existing transcript of the Novgorod Chronicle^�in the year 1167 �Sedko Sitinitsnbsp;founded the stone church of the Holy Martyrs Boris and Gl�b undernbsp;Knyaz Svyatoslav Rostislavits�.^ Stone churches were still rare in thenbsp;twelfth century, and the name of this historical founder (who in thenbsp;annals of the Cathedral of Saint Sofia is called Sotko bogaty, �Sadkonbsp;the wealthy�)3 recalls the byliny'm which Sadko, the wealthy merchantnbsp;{bogay gost} of Novgorod, likewise appears as a builder of churches.4

It is generally held that around the person of the historical rich merchant of the twelfth century a number of other stories have collected,nbsp;quite unhistorical in character. The version in which Sadko figures as anbsp;guest of the tsar of the sea, and that in which he is enriched by a nymphnbsp;of Lake Ilmen, have been thought to be derived from Finnish oralnbsp;sources, 5 and Speranski points to the existence of an early form of thenbsp;bylina of Sadko from which the tsar of the sea is absent, and in whichnbsp;Sadko appears to be neither a musician nor a native of Novgorod.�nbsp;Further, an episode very similar to the casting adrift of Sadko is foundnbsp;in an Old French romance Tristan de L�onais, and the similarity is thenbsp;more striking since the incident is associated with a hero of the samenbsp;name, Sadoc. The name Sadko, Sadok is said to be Hebrew (Zadok), andnbsp;there can be little doubt that the story has reached both countries from anbsp;Hebrew milieu, such as that which exercised a marked influence onnbsp;Novgorod during the early Middle Ages.7 The coincidence of the namenbsp;perhaps accounts for the association of this story with the wealthy andnbsp;prominent Novgorod citizen.

The only evidence known to us for the historicity of Vasili Buslaev is a solitary reference in the compilation of Nikon.^ Here, in an entry

� Michell, p. xxxvii. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� p. 25.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY I25 for the year 1171, we find the following brief notice: �This year thenbsp;posadnik Vaska Buslaevich died at Novgorod.� This entry has generallynbsp;been considered by western writers as valid evidence for the associationnbsp;of the hero with a historical person of Novgorod � but the absence ofnbsp;any reference to the hero in the versions of the Chronicle of Novgorodnbsp;which have survived make one feel some hesitation in accepting Nikon�snbsp;entry on its face value. The absence of reference in the Novgorodnbsp;Chronicle is the more surprising in view of the fullness of the information which it affords on other local matters of this period, especiallynbsp;in regard to the posadniki. Bezsonov rightly emphasised the absencenbsp;of the name of Vasili Buslaev from the list of the posadniki ofnbsp;Novgorod.^

On the other hand the wording of the entry in the compilation of Nikon implies that the hero is an important person. He is referred to asnbsp;a posadnik, and he is mentioned amid events of the greatest importancenbsp;in the life of Novgorod. In the opinion of Sobolevski, Buslav is anbsp;derivative from Bogus lav, with a reduction of g to h. The latter appearsnbsp;to be an ancient pan-Slavonic name which was in general use innbsp;antiquity, like Bogukhval, Bogumil, and appears to have been speciallynbsp;common among the Czechs and Poles.3 There is record of a boyarin ofnbsp;Novgorod called Boguslav in the thirteenth century. The earliestnbsp;Chronicle of Pskov speaks in the entry for the year 1500, of a posadniknbsp;Foma Buslavich.'^ Possibly, therefore, Bezsonov was right in suggesting5nbsp;that the name Vasili, with its nickname Vaska, has been substituted fornbsp;the original name of some posadnik of Novgorod. The name Buslavlyanbsp;is recorded as the name of a village in the seventeenth century, and anbsp;village Buslaevo exists to-day in the government of Kostroma.^

The bylina of Vasili�s life in Novgorod in its present form is reminiscent�despite its satire and exaggerations�of the conditions which prevailed in Novgorod when at the height of its power, during thenbsp;fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. To this period, accordingly, Sham-binago attributes the composition of the bylina in its present form. Henbsp;suggests, moreover, that the bylina has perhaps come down to us throughnbsp;a skomoTokW tradition, and that it is strongly coloured by seventeenth-

' See Rambaud, R.�. p. 144; Hapgood, Songs, p. 281, and cf. Magnus, Ballads, P- 142-

Bezsonov, loc. cit,', Brodski, p. 109 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Brodski, loc. cit.

5 Loc. cit. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Brodski, p. no.

century features. The merry tone, rough humour, and good-humoured if somewhat clumsy burlesque support this suggestion, and remind one ofnbsp;similar features in the bylina of Terenti Cost, which is almost certainlynbsp;a skomorokh product in its present form, though the story is said to benbsp;based on a French original.�^ Possibly some slight traces of a morenbsp;serious picture of the hero Vasili Buslaev are preserved in the versionnbsp;of Kirsha Danilov (cf. p. 54 f. above), though the humorous tone of thenbsp;poem as a whole is equally well sustained in Kirsha�s version. In anynbsp;case there can be little doiit that in Vasili Buslaev we have an examplenbsp;of a purely local hero, and, in the bylina of his Novgorod brawls, annbsp;example of a composition of Novgorod provenance.

It will be seen that the evidence for the historicity of the heroes of the Novgorod Cycle is hardly superior to that of Kiev. Yet some of thenbsp;characteristic features of early Novgorod have been preserved, and thenbsp;atmosphere of the poems is very different from that of the Kiev by liny.nbsp;The peculiar and individual local topography and political organisationnbsp;of medieval Novgorod are not forgotten, or its turbulent citizens, itsnbsp;constant brawls, its posadnik, its tysyatski. The circumscribed nature ofnbsp;its interests are hinted at. The Novgorod byliny know nothing of thenbsp;Tatars, nothing of Kiev. The byliny suggest no less clearly than thenbsp;Chronicle that the preoccupations of Novgorod were chiefly with civilnbsp;strife at home and commerce abroad. The two chief heroes, and the restnbsp;of the citizens also,� can read and write. The personnel consist of citizensnbsp;and tradespeople, and the scene is laid in the streets and guildhall.

The historical element in the poems of the Cycle which is generally regarded as having reference to medieval times does not appear to benbsp;great. The most convincing identifications are those which relate to thenbsp;bylina of the Princes of Tver and to the byliny of Roman. Of the formernbsp;there can be no doubt. The bylina refers to the murder of the Tatarnbsp;bashkak, Choi Khan, at the hands of the citizens of Tver in 1327. Wenbsp;have related the circumstances more fully elsewhere.3 The popularnbsp;singer has forgotten the cruel consequences of the murder however, fornbsp;he states in the last line�s that

whereas in reality Alexander, the Prince of Tver, who had led the insurrection in person, was forced to flee for his life to Pskov, and Tver

* See Kirsha Danilov�s version, Kir�evski, v. p. 14 ff., line 60; Chadwick, p. 152. 3 Chadwick, p. 159.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Kir�evski, v. p. 186 ff.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY 127 was cruelly ravaged by 50,000 Tatars in a punitive expedition led bynbsp;Ivan of Moscow.

The question of the identity of Prince Roman, and the origin of the story relating to him have never been satisfactorily solved. Korobka,�nbsp;followed by Sobolevski and Markov, identified him with a certainnbsp;Prince Bryansk! Roman Mikhailovich, who ruled 1263-1288, and suggests that the events narrated in the byliny contain echoes of the Lithuanian-Russian relations of the thirteenth century, and that the lylinanbsp;which relates the attack on his home during his absence by twonbsp;Lithuanian princes was composed to commemorate the first attack onnbsp;this prince by the Lithuanians in 1263. On the other hand Zhdanovnbsp;identifies him with Prince Roman of Galicia who was ruling at the endnbsp;of the twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth century. The namenbsp;Manuelo Yagailovich, which occurs in the version recorded from Archangel,� is, in his opinion, reminiscent of Polish-Lithuanian history,nbsp;perhaps a reference to the Jagellon dynasty. Miller identifies the namenbsp;Manuelo, however, with the Byzantine emperor Manuel Komnenos. Itnbsp;may be added that he has shown good reason elsewhere for believingnbsp;that the great emperor was remembered in the byliny, that his name wasnbsp;especially popular in Galician oral traditions, and that already in thenbsp;thirteendi century such traditions represented Manuel Komnenos asnbsp;a contemporary of Vladimir Monomakh. All these identifications, itnbsp;would seem, receive considerable support from the evidence of thenbsp;byliny, and it is not impossible that a transference has taken place, andnbsp;that both the historical Romans have been called into requisition.

Before leaving the subject of the historical and unhistorical elements in the heroic poems, a word may be said on the later periods, from thenbsp;time of Ivan the Terrible to the present day. The relationship of thesenbsp;poems to historical fact varies greatly. Nor is the variation a chronological one. The bylina which relates the capture of Kazan from thenbsp;Tatars in 1552 is much closer to history than that which tells of thenbsp;capture of Berlin by the Cossack Krasnoshchokov in 1760.

The most important factor in the unhistorical elements in the byliny of the modem period is the prevalence of the tradition of the Kiev Cycle.nbsp;Wherever this is prominent, unhistorical elements abound, and where it

� The works cited below have not been accessible to us. For summaries of the views expressed we are indebted to Miller, Ocherki, I. p. 114 f-j u. p. 364 f.; in.nbsp;p. 58f.

is absent the byliny at least symbolise fact, even when they do not actually reflect it. This will become clearer as we proceed. In the modem periodnbsp;exaggeration is a less important factor than in the earlier Cycles. Wherenbsp;the unhistorical elements are not due to the prevalence of the heroicnbsp;tradition, or to the introduction of themes derived from folk-tales, or tonbsp;extraneous literary (oral) motifs, they are generally to be attributednbsp;partly to the telescoping of events, partly to their transference andnbsp;artificial grouping round a few well-known names, partly again to thenbsp;ignorance of the singers as to the details of the occurrences which theynbsp;celebrate.

Adopting the classification followed in Vol. i, ch. viii and in the Yugoslav section, we will first give one or two examples of incidentsnbsp;and situations in these later Cycles which are at variance with reliablenbsp;historical evidence. In general the bylina which relates the capture ofnbsp;Kazan by Ivan the Terriblequot; keeps surprisingly close to history. Errorsnbsp;of detail occur, however, as is not surprising in oral poetry. The rulernbsp;of Kazan at the time of its capture was Ediger. He was not blinded bynbsp;Ivan as the bylina states, but baptised under the name of Simeon, andnbsp;became a great lord in the Muscovite court. The siege lasted, not fornbsp;�eight years� as in some versions of the bylina, or for �thirty-threenbsp;years� as in others, but for six weeks. The byliny not infrequentlynbsp;transpose the names of the Tatar khans. In the bylina which relates thenbsp;Conquest of Siberia by Ermak the Cossack� in 1581 the name of thenbsp;Tatar khan is given as Kuchum, whereas it was in reality Mahmetkoul.3

The byliny show no exact knowledge of what was happening in the Kremlin either in this period or in the Period of Troubles. A strikingnbsp;instance of the misrepresentation of historical fact�whether dehberatenbsp;or inadvertent�occurs in the bylina which relates how �the Tsar resolves to slay his son�.4 Ivan IV did, in actual fact, slay his own much-beloved son. The rescue of the tsarevich in the nick of time by Nikitanbsp;Romanovich as related in the bylina is wholly unhistorical. But what thenbsp;singer represents as a deliberate sentence for treason was, in reality, annbsp;accident. Ivan in momentary anger struck his son on the temple withnbsp;the iron point of his stick. He never intended to kill him, and wasnbsp;inconsolable after his death.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY I29 troublous period following Ivan�s reign. In Kirsha Danilov�s versionnbsp;of the Ivlina of Grigori Otrepev and Marina/ the strdtsy are representednbsp;as hostile to the usurper, while the Tsaritsa repudiates him. In actual factnbsp;it was the boyars who opposed him while the streltsy gave him theirnbsp;support, and the Tsaritsa actually acknowledged him as her son, thoughnbsp;she seems to have failed to make good her recognition of him when thenbsp;tide set strongly against him.�

A number of other byliny also illustrate popular misconceptions of the course of events, dimly apprehended, which are occurring in thenbsp;Kremlin. In the bylina of Vasili Shuyski^ the people of Moscow appearnbsp;loyal to the tsar and suspicious of the boyars, and are aware of the disturbance at the palace and of the tsar�s absence, but ignorant of thenbsp;precise circumstances. They assemble in the Red Square, anxiously enquiring why the blinds are drawn in the palace, and why all is in commotion. A bold youth tells them that it is because the �evil boyars� havenbsp;sent the Tsar Vasili to Siberia. As a matter of fact Vasili was never sentnbsp;to Siberia, but he was forced by the boyars and their Polish allies tonbsp;abdicate, and was carried a prisoner to Warsaw where he died.

In the bylina of Prokofi Lyapunov^, who was in charge of the troops in Moscow during the Period of Troubles, and was murdered bynbsp;the Cossacks in 1611, both the opinion expressed on the hero and thenbsp;facts narrated conflict with what is commonly accepted. The hero isnbsp;now generally regarded by western historians as primarily a self-seekingnbsp;adventurer. But in his own day he was looked upon as a champion of thenbsp;Christian faith by the Russian cities, who were anxious for a union withnbsp;Moscow against the Poles, and it is not unlikely that contemporarynbsp;opinion was right, and that his fumbling advances towards unity andnbsp;nationalism have been misunderstood by modern writers. The singersnbsp;of the lylina have no doubts on the matter:

One boyar, the wise governor, sturdily defended the faith. Sturdily defended the faith, and drove the traitors away:nbsp;Now this wise governor was Prokofi Lyapunov.

The statements in the same bylina that Sigismund III of Poland had established his dwelling in Moscow, and was subsequently strangled

� For a discussion of this curious and obscure phase of history, and of the part played by the Tsaritsa, see Rambaud, R.�. p. 278 f.

3 Kir�evski, vii. p. 17 ff.; Chadwick, p. 226 ff. Kir�evski, vn. p. 17 ff.; Chadwick, p. 238 ff.

there, are quite unhistorical. Sigismund was never in Moscow himself, and he lived till 1632.

Even in times nearer our own the popular singers are singularly ill-informed. The bylina on � Krasnoshchokov and Frederick IIwhich relates to a raid on Berlin in 1760 by a Russian force of Cossacks andnbsp;Kalmuks, represents the Cossack general, Krasnoshchokov, as enteringnbsp;Berlin alone in disguise, and purchasing powder and lead in the merchant�s row, after which he succeeds in making his way into the royalnbsp;palace. Here he slays the Prussian queen and takes captive the princessnbsp;who tells him that on his approach the Emperor Frederick transformednbsp;himself into a number of creatures, such as a grey cat, a black crow, anbsp;white fish, etc.

The byliny relating to modern times are not often at variance with one another as regards serious matters of fact. We may therefore pass on tonbsp;consider the second class of unhistorical evidence, namely, incidents andnbsp;situations which are in themselves incredible. Chief of these are supernatural elements.

Supernatural beings are rarely if ever introduced into the byliny of modem times, though human beings are occasionally credited withnbsp;supernatural power, especially the power to change their shapes. Whennbsp;the Pretender, Dimitri Otrepev, was attacked in his palace in 1606 bynbsp;Vasili Shuyski and a party of boyars with their followers, we arenbsp;told in the bylina that

His wicked wife, Marinka the godless. Changed herself into a magpie.nbsp;And away she flew out of the palace.

We have just seen how, on the entry of Krasnoshchokov, the Cossack general, Frederick II is represented as changing himself into a grey cat,nbsp;a black crow, a white fish, etc. Such passages as these appear to be anbsp;heritage from the bylina of Volga and the Kiev Cycle, and are strangelynbsp;at variance with the more literal narrative which generally characterisesnbsp;the byliny of modern times.

The modern byliny do not offer many examples of incidents, motifs, etc., which can be stated with certainty to have been taken from somenbsp;other story, and still fewer which appear to be due to invention. As wenbsp;have already seen, however, there can be no doubt that the stories andnbsp;motifs of the Kiev Cycle have affected the themes of the later byliny.nbsp;The bylina of the marriage of Ivan the Terrible to Marya Temrukhovna,

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY 131 and the exploits of her brother Kastryuk (cf. p. 6o above) have undoubtedly been influenced by the marriage feasts and the games andnbsp;festivities which accompany them in such byliny of the Kiev Cycle asnbsp;Stavr Godinovich. Similarly the bylina which relates the brilliantnbsp;services rendered by Prince Mikhailo Skopin Shuyski to the Russiansnbsp;besieged in Moscow by the Poles and their allies, and the accountnbsp;of the feast at which he was poisoned at the instigation of his jealousnbsp;uncles�, shows traces of the same traditional treatment. But so far asnbsp;we are aware the actual themes and incidents of earlier poems and storiesnbsp;are rarely inserted in modem byliny where they are not justified bynbsp;actual analogous historical occurrences.

Nevertheless it is clear that a certain amount of transference, or rather of adaptation, has taken place. It is thought that certain of the achievements attributed in the byliny to Ivan the Terrible were originallynbsp;proper to his grandfather, Ivan III, and his father Vasili, whose campaigns and foreign achievements have been overshadowed and evennbsp;incorporated into the Cycle of the Terrible.^ It is thought that thenbsp;bylina which relates to the banishment of the wife of Ivan the Terriblenbsp;into a convent may have been inspired by, or even formed on the modelnbsp;of, an earlier bylina commemorating the banishment of Solomon�a, wifenbsp;of Ivan III, to a convent; but so far as we are aware there is no evidence ofnbsp;such an earlier bylina. On the other hand such banishments are not rarenbsp;in Russian history, and byliny composed on the theme are commonlynbsp;found. We have discussed the subject elsewhere,^ and shall treat of itnbsp;again more fully in the present volume in the chapter on � The Texts �.

Z^Zwijlt;of Type B relating the laments of the tsaritsas and of the troops, composed on the deaths of various tsars, are neither at variance withnbsp;historical record, nor do they differ in any respect from what we shouldnbsp;expect to find had they actually been composed by the speakers. Therenbsp;can be no doubt, however, that they are not wholly independent of onenbsp;another, and the situations and speeches which they record are to somenbsp;extent conventional. The nature of their relationship will be discussednbsp;more fully later, also in the chapter on �The Texts�.

The most important class of unhistorical elements in the modern byliny are those which are neither at variance with historical record nornbsp;in themselves incredible, but which we nevertheless regard withnbsp;scepticism for one reason or another. A number of byliny relating tonbsp;Peter the Great may be included under this heading. A whole Cycle ofnbsp;� Kir�evski, vii. p. ii ff.; Chadwick, p. 229 if.

� Rambaud, R.�. p. 239 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Chadwick, p. 203 f.

byliny and ska^ki has sprung up relating his exploits. The north of Russia is especially rich in memories of the great tsar, and has retained anbsp;great wealth of tradition, both in prose and verse, relating to his remarkable character and habits, and to his early years.� It must be confessed however that the historical value of these traditions is not on anbsp;high level. What impressed the popular imagination was not so muchnbsp;Peter�s greatness as his eccentricity�his tall and powerful figure, hisnbsp;habit of associating with peasants, his foreign travel, his love of foreignnbsp;importations�folding-t^les, telescopes, embossed note-paper�hisnbsp;mechanical hobbies. All these things appear in the byliny in unnaturalnbsp;combinations and fantastic association, transporting us into the atmosphere of a kind of Russian Alice in Wonderland. At times elementsnbsp;derived from adventures in the byliny of the Kiev Cycle are attached tonbsp;Peter, at times features of the bogatyri themselves, or the supernaturalnbsp;power of the heroes of the �Older Cycle�. Thus it comes about thatnbsp;while a large proportion of the byliny are quite unhistorical in their mainnbsp;facts, they yet reflect those spectacular features in Peter�s life and character, especially in his early days, which impressed themselves on thenbsp;people of Russia in his own time. We may refer to the bylina whichnbsp;relates how Peter challenged a young dragoon to wrestle with him,^ andnbsp;was overcome, and how well he took his beating. We need not believenbsp;that the actual occurrence took place; but it was the kind of thing henbsp;would be likely to do.

The variation between the different versions of the bylina which relates Peter�s voyage to Stockholm^ will be discussed later (p. 156 f.nbsp;below). In one of these versions the departure of Peter over the sea isnbsp;described as accompanied by disturbances in the world of naturenbsp;analogous to those which accompany the birth of the hero Volga.nbsp;Another version, which is in general comparatively free from thenbsp;marvellous, has nevertheless completely distorted the facts. Actuallynbsp;Peter set out in 1697 to travel through western Europe, passing throughnbsp;Livonia where the Swedish governor of Riga took advantage of thenbsp;incognito under which Peter travelled to insult him. In the bylina thenbsp;scene is shifted from Riga to Stockholm, and the place of the hostilenbsp;governor has been taken by the Swedish queen, who

Brought out the portraits of the tsars of seven lands, And recognised the White Tsar from his portrait.

' See the admirable chapter on Peter the Great by Rambaud, R.�. p. 287 ff. � Kir�evski, vni. p. 37 ff.; Chadwick, p. 258.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN BYLINY 133 The atmosphere is that of folk-tale, but the element of fiction, of purenbsp;invention, is undeveloped or wholly absent here as elsewhere. Thenbsp;popular singer, ignorant alike of political geography and of the usages ofnbsp;royalty, but with a mind stored with many a bylina of court life and royalnbsp;personages of the past, has kept as close to history as he knew how to do,nbsp;and related the incident in the diction and manner traditionally sanctionednbsp;to such themes.

A bylina of more recent years which bears a somewhat analogous relation to historical fact, and which is entitled �The Invasion by thenbsp;French under Napoleon (1812)�,�^ describes how Napoleon sends anbsp;dispatch to the tsar Alexander I, bidding him make ready the royalnbsp;apartments in the Kremlin for his reception. The tsar is represented asnbsp;receiving the news with dismay. It is only when he is reassured bynbsp;Kutuzov that he recovers his spirits and addresses encouraging words tonbsp;his army. The unhistorical nature of all this requires no demonstration.nbsp;The brilliant and courageous part which the Emperor played personallynbsp;in the campaign of 1812 has been wholly forgotten, both here andnbsp;elsewhere in the by liny. The Battle of Borodino has also been forgotten,nbsp;and few of the Russian generals are mentioned by name except the greatnbsp;Kutuzov, the hero of the people. The principal facts have not beennbsp;wholly forgotten however, and are dimly reflected in our bylina.nbsp;Napoleon presumed to covet Moscow and hoped to rule in place of thenbsp;Russian tsar, but was thwarted largely by the dogged determinationnbsp;and generalship of Kutuzov. This bylina has been quoted on p. 66nbsp;above.

In estimating the fidelity and the shortcomings of Russian oral tradition it is of importance to note that there is hardly any overlapping between the diflerent cycles. A poem is recorded by Rybnikov� whichnbsp;represents Vasili Buslaev of Novgorod as feasting with Vladimir innbsp;Kiev. A bylina recorded by Gilferding3 represents Sadko as associatednbsp;with Volga, while another bylina, also recorded by Gilferding,'^ associates the same hero with Svyatogor. Svyatogor himself is also found innbsp;association with Ilya of Murom. Irmak Timofeevich, who conquerednbsp;Siberia in 1581, figures as a member of Vladimir�s court in severalnbsp;versions of the bylina of Tsar Kalin. Cases of contact between the cyclesnbsp;are, however, not common when we take account of the great number ofnbsp;poems under discussion, and in the later Cycles, from the time of Ivannbsp;the Terrible to the present day, they are practically unknown.

Kir�evski, x. p. 2; Chadwick, p. 287 f. nbsp;nbsp;* Rambaud, R.�. p. 131, footnote-

3 Loc. cit. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�t Gilferding, ii. p. 297. Cf. Rambaud, R.�. p. 152.

The byliny offer an enormous choice of variants. Not only is the choice very extensive numerically, but we also have variants fromnbsp;regions which are separated from one another by many thousandsnbsp;of miles. Byliny from the north-east of Siberia offer us variants ofnbsp;byliny from Novgorod and Olonets in the north-west of Russia innbsp;Europe, and byliny from Archangel on the White Sea offer variants ofnbsp;byliny from Astrakhan and Saratov and even the Caucasus.

On the other hand we have no MS. texts of Russian byliny as early as that of the two poems published by Hektorovic in 1556 from thenbsp;Island of Hvar in Dalmatia, and no considerable collections comparablenbsp;to the Yugoslav MS. collections dating from the beginning of thenbsp;eighteenth century. The earliest MS. texts of Russian byliny known to usnbsp;are the half dozen texts written down by Richard James in 1619, andnbsp;preserved in the Bodleian Library at Oxford; but unfortunately thesenbsp;texts appear to be unique. We know of no duplicates or variants of themnbsp;from any period. Later in the same century (1688) a further smallnbsp;collection of byliny treating of contemporary events was made, but thisnbsp;collection has not been accessible to us, and we do not know if it is yetnbsp;published. The collection made by Kirsha Danilov from the miners innbsp;Perm during the eighteenth century has already been referred to frequently. The miners doubtless came from all parts, and it would benbsp;misleading to suppose that this collection represents local variantsnbsp;exclusively. Its principal value is chronological, and it offers us anbsp;wealth of early versions with which to compare the modem texts fromnbsp;elsewhere. In addition to these collections, we have a number of othernbsp;texts recorded, often at random, in notebooks, account books, and othernbsp;odd places by various people, such as early settlers in Siberia. Thesenbsp;have been collected to some extent in modern times, and published bynbsp;students of Russian oral literature.

We may refer again here to the German translation of a collection of byliny published anonymously in 1819, of which mention has already beennbsp;made (p. 7 above), and which contains some versions not known fromnbsp;other sources. All these early versions, from whatever source, are ofnbsp;great value for comparative purposes, and enable us to some extent to

135 restore the early forms of the personal names�a very importantnbsp;factor in the study of the historical elements�and the redactions* of thenbsp;byliny from which our modern variants are more or less directlynbsp;descended. Unfortunately we have no evidence for Russian variantsnbsp;comparable to that supplied by the Yugoslav eighteenth-century MS.nbsp;collections of poems called bugaritice, which offer such an interestingnbsp;series of parallels to the modern versions composed in a totally differentnbsp;metre.

The nature of the Russian variants differs greatly. In many cases they are merely inconsiderable details of text, and this is sometimes thenbsp;case even when the variants have been collected from areas which arenbsp;hundreds of miles apart. In other cases the stories themselves differnbsp;considerably, though it may be clear nevertheless that they are derivednbsp;from a common prototype. Again it frequently happens that storiesnbsp;recognisably identical are preserved in versions which differ so widelynbsp;as to make us doubt if they do not represent two traditions which havenbsp;been distinct from the start. A more difficult and important question isnbsp;that of static motifs and formulae, stock situations ready made and easynbsp;of insertion, of which the composers always have a large stock-in-tradenbsp;ready for re-use. A hero is to marry�the cue is sufficient; the weddingnbsp;is brought forward and moved into its place ; a previous lover advancesnbsp;prior claims to the bride�the situation has many a precedent, thenbsp;pursuit, the flight, the duel are all ready to be transferred bodily into thenbsp;new position; the treachery of the bride must needs follow, andnbsp;the final triumph of the hero. But has the author of the bylinanbsp;�borrowed� his properties from another storyHas he adapted hisnbsp;own original story to another well-known theme Or has he drawnnbsp;from his rich traditional store of motif, incident, situation, formulaenbsp;and diction to produce a new story with a familiar family likenessnbsp;to others which we have previously known In regard to poemsnbsp;of Types B and D the problem is still more complex. Poems whichnbsp;are sometimes almost identical, yet which at other times differ considerably, though containing closely corresponding passages�are suchnbsp;poems �borrowings�, or �refurbishings�, or �variants�, or are theynbsp;more or less independent compositions following a traditional �idea� ornbsp;�ritual�.^ These are some of the questions which arise in considering thenbsp;varying degrees of similarity and disparity in the variant versions ofnbsp;poetry which has been carried on for many centuries by oral tradition.nbsp;We cannot hope in the following pages to do more than give examples ofnbsp;� By �redacrion� we do not mean to imply the existence of a written text.

different kinds and degrees of variants, and some suggestions which have occurred during the course of our study as to the manner in whichnbsp;such variants may arise.

We will first consider some narrative byliny relating to the Kiev Cycle, and then pass on to byliny of comparatively modem times, concentratingnbsp;chiefly on Types B and D. In regard to the former a few general variations in regard to textual points will first be considered, after which wenbsp;will pass on to examine some closely similar versions of the bylina ofnbsp;Sukhan Domantevich, in which again the variants are merely textual.nbsp;Next we will turn to variants where incidents of the story have beennbsp;altered and transposed, after which we will take wholly distinct bylinynbsp;which appear to be variants of a common original poem, selecting as ournbsp;examples the byliny of Sukhan Domantevich, Mikhailo Potyk, and Ivannbsp;Godinovich. Two distinct byliny will then be compared from a laternbsp;Cycle, relating to Prince Roman, which do not appear to be derivednbsp;from a common composition, but from two distinct compositions basednbsp;on a common original theme or historical occurrence.

Turning next to the seventeenth century we will compare two byliny on the murder of the Tsarevich Dimitri, which appear to be variantnbsp;versions of a common original poem, though one version in its presentnbsp;form is a narrative poem, while the other is approximating to Type B.nbsp;From this we will pass on to compare the opening lines of two variantsnbsp;of a single bylina on the voyage of Peter the Great to Sweden, whichnbsp;differ from one another widely in diction, though not in the actualnbsp;course of the narrative. Finally we will consider the nature of the relationship of a number of byliny of Types B and D which have referencenbsp;to people and events of widely different periods, but which resemblenbsp;one another closely, at times so closely as to be almost identical.

We will begin with narrative byliny belonging to the Kiev Cycle. As an example of variation in textual points we may compare some passagesnbsp;in various byliny recited to Gilferding by the skafitel Ivan Feponov ofnbsp;Pudoga with those of other reciters. Feponov, as became a kal�ka (cf.nbsp;p. 248 below), tended to introduce Christian references into his poems,nbsp;representing his heroes as constantly praying to God. We have thereforenbsp;selected some of the passages containing such references for comparisonnbsp;with other versions, as having an interesting bearing on the passagesnbsp;in the Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf which are commonly regarded asnbsp;�Christian interpolations�. These passages will serve to illustrate thenbsp;way in which the personality of the reciter colours the narrative withoutnbsp;encroaching on it or obtruding itself in any way.

In Feponov�s account of the journey of Ilya of Murom from his native village, when the hero arrives at the city of Bekeshov,

And all the citizens of Bekeshov Had assembled in the church,nbsp;Confessing their sins and praying to God,nbsp;And preparing for their death.'

Ilya learns that a Tatar host has surrounded the city, and this is the cause of their panic. He accordingly defeats the host and sets off to find thenbsp;dwelling of Solovey the Robber. The incident recurs in many versionsnbsp;of the story, generally in connection, not with Bekeshov, but withnbsp;Chernigov, but without any reference to the assembly of the citizens innbsp;church. Thus in Ryabinin�s version Ilya defeats the pagan host which isnbsp;surrounding the town of Chernigov before he enters the city, and thennbsp;rides up to the town:

Ilya, however, declines the invitation, and asks the way to the home of Solovey the Robber.�

In Feponov�s version of Kalin Tsar, when Vladimir sends for Ilya of Murom, whom he himself has previously buried in a deep vault, andnbsp;whom he believes to be dead, the hero is found sitting alive in the tomb.nbsp;Burning a wax candle,nbsp;And reading the Gospels.3

We may compare the parallel passage in a version recorded by Gulyaev and published in Kir�evski�s collection, where we are merely told thatnbsp;when Vladimir�s messengers come to Ilya�s tomb.

Then Ilya of Murom replied to them, And they lowered a ladder to him,nbsp;In his deep vault:

3 Gilferding, I. p. 427. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;? Kir�evski, i. p. 69.

Feponov�s tendency to introduce and emphasise Christian elements is seen further in line 178 if. of the same poem, where Ilya declares thatnbsp;he will go and oppose Tsar Kalin:

But for the sake of the holy land of Russia, And for the sake of the Orthodox faith.nbsp;And for the sake of the great churches.nbsp;And for the sake of Our Lady?

And a few lines later (line 239 ff.), as the Tatars are leading Ilya captive past a cathedral to the place of execution, Ilya offers up a prayer to allnbsp;the saints, whereupon his steed comes running up from the open plain,nbsp;and frees his master from his bonds. These Christian touches are notnbsp;found in any other versions, so far as we are aware.

We may refer further to Feponov�s account of Dobrynya�s preparations before setting out on the morning after his first encounter with the dragon:

Again in Feponov�s account of the departure of Dobrynya to rescue Vladimir�s �daughter��in other versions generally his �niece��fromnbsp;the dragon, we are told that having collected all his weapons togethernbsp;Dobrynya prepared to set out; first however.

With these passages we may compare Chukov�s account of Dobrynya�s preparations and departure on the same quest:

We will next study an example of closely allied texts of a single bylina, selecting as an example the bylina ofSukhan Domantevich� whichnbsp;is of comparatively rare occurrence, though a few versions have beennbsp;preserved. It has been recorded from the district of Pudoga nearnbsp;Lake Onega in the present Soviet republic of Karelia in north-westnbsp;Russia by Rybnikov,� Gilferding,3 and the brothers Sokolov,andnbsp;from the neighbourhood of the White Sea by A. V. Markov.5 Markov�snbsp;version differs from that of Rybnikov astonishingly little, and that onlynbsp;in unessential details, while that of Gilferding corresponds for the mostnbsp;part in the main outline of the narrative, though it is corrupt in parts. Anbsp;fragment of a version from Saratov� has been recorded which also seemsnbsp;to follow the lines of the northern version, though the conventions differnbsp;somewhat. Sukhan also figures prominently in a bylina of especialnbsp;interest from the R. Kolyma in north-eastern Siberia,^ though Mikhailonbsp;Potyk (�Potok Mikhailovich�) is the actual hero. A number of othernbsp;notices of unpublished byliny relating to Sukhan are given by S. Sham-binago.� We will begin by giving a comparison of the closely alliednbsp;texts of Rybnikov, Gilferding and Markov, which for the sake of convenience we will refer to as A, B and C respectively.

The versions given in A and C are remarkably close. In both these versions the story relates that at Vladimir�s feast Sukhan is silent andnbsp;sulky until Vladimir invites him to make his boast with the rest.nbsp;Sukhan then boasts that he will capture and bring to Vladimir a whitenbsp;swan alive and uninjured. He goes forth, and in A passes successivelynbsp;three rivers, but makes no attempt to shoot geese or swans or ducks. Innbsp;C we are merely told that when he comes to the R. Pochay he can find

� V. F. Miller has shown cogent reasons for regarding this as the original form of the name. See Ocherki, ill. p. 170. It is the form which occurs in a sktv^anie datingnbsp;from the eighteenth century and in the collection of Kirsha Danilov, as well as in anbsp;bylina recorded from the R. Kolyma in north-eastern Siberia�a region which hasnbsp;preserved exceptionally pure and archaic forms. In Rybnikov�s version of thenbsp;bylina the name appears as Sukhmanti Odikhmantevich, in Gilferding�s as Sukhmannbsp;Dolmantevich. Sokolov also apparently found the form Sukhman in the same region.nbsp;In Markov�s version from the White Sea the name appears as Sukhmaty Sukhmate-vich\ in a fragment from Saratov, as Sukhan Ivanovich.

� II. p. 338 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 I. p. 468 ff.

In the expedition to Pudoga, the brothers Sokolov recorded in 1928 a third version of the bylina. This version has not yet been published so far as we are aware.nbsp;See the article �� la Recherche des Bylines�, byB.and Y. Sokolov,R.E.S.w (1932),

none. In both versions, accordingly, he proceeds to the R. Mother Dnepr. The river, which is personified as a woman or maiden, is troublednbsp;and disturbed. In both versions she addresses Sukhan in human voice,nbsp;and laments that she is oppressed by a vast host of Tatars on her furthernbsp;bank. Each day they labour to build a bridge with which to span her,nbsp;each night she destroys their work. Sukhan leaps across the Dn�pr, andnbsp;in A tears up an oak tree and encounters and utterly destroys the vastnbsp;Tatar army, using the oak-tree as a club. On his return to the Dn�pr henbsp;is shot by the arrows of three Tatars who are hiding by the river. Henbsp;staunches his wounds with poppy petals, and slays these three Tatarsnbsp;also, after which he returns to Kiev, but does not bring the white swannbsp;in fulfilment of his promise. In C the events are practically the same,nbsp;but the hero is here said to tear up the oak-tree to use as a club after henbsp;has received his own death wound, apparently in the midst of hisnbsp;onslaught. In C only one Tatar is said to shoot the fatal arrow, not threenbsp;as in A, and no ambush is mentioned ; and after staunching his wound thenbsp;hero goes on fighting till not one Tatar remains. On his return to Kievnbsp;in both versions he boasts of his great deed to Prince Vladimir, but isnbsp;cast into a deep pit or dungeon �gluboki pogreb, A ; temnitsa temnaya^ C) ;nbsp;and Dobrynya is sent to verify his story. When Dobrynya returns andnbsp;testifies to the truth of Sukhan�s report, the hero is released, and Vladimirnbsp;desires to reward him; but Sukhan goes forth into the open plain, andnbsp;tearing from his wounds the petals of the poppy flower with which theynbsp;are staunched (A; grass, C) he allows the blood to gush forth again, andnbsp;so dies.

The version recorded by Gilferding (B) differs from A and C in a few important respects only, (i) The river is not personified and does notnbsp;speak; (2) On his arrival in Kiev without the white swan, Sukhan isnbsp;buried alive for thirty years in a 'pogreb gluboki�, a 'temnitsa temnaya�-,nbsp;(3) Ilya of Murom goes to the Dn�pr at the end of this period to verifynbsp;Sukhan�s story, whereas in A and C Dobrynya Nikitich�not Ilya ofnbsp;Murom�is sent as soon as Sukhan is imprisoned. Ilya of Murom and notnbsp;Sukhan here has the second encounter with the surviving Tatars lyingnbsp;in ambush, who are here stated to be two in number, and here it is clearlynbsp;stated that they are the only survivors from the host slain by Sukhan,nbsp;and that they escaped and lay concealed in the bushes. Here, however,nbsp;the interview takes place, not immediately after the battle, but whennbsp;Sukhan has been buried alive for thirty years, and while Ilya is visitingnbsp;the site of the battle to verify his story. The treacherous attempt, therefore, is here made, not on the life of Sukhan, but on that of Ilya, though

141 the attempt proves unsuccessful. B is manifestly inferior to A and C atnbsp;this point ; for here a stock motif from the byliny of the slaying of Tugarinnbsp;or Idolishche has been substituted for the wounding of Sukhan, whereasnbsp;Sukhan�s own wounds are left unexplained. The period of thirty years,nbsp;during which he is buried alive, is manifestly a purely conventionalnbsp;figure.

It will be seen that A and C are much closer than A and B, though the two former are separated by many hundreds of miles, while the two latternbsp;were recorded in the same district. It will be interesting to see where thenbsp;affinities of Sokolov�s version lie, since this was recorded in the samenbsp;district as A and B some sixty years later. In the meantime A and Cnbsp;permit us to realise the fidelity of the Russian peasant memory in thenbsp;byliny tradition, despite the freedom allowed and the partial recomposition which takes place with each fresh recitation.

The fragment from Saratov,^ which we will refer to as D, opens with a picture of Sukhan (jzc), who is here not called Domantevich, or anynbsp;variant of this patronymic, but Ivanovich. He is riding away over thenbsp;open plain, his horse richly caparisoned, and he himself finely dressed.nbsp;He rides until he comes to a damp oak on which sits a wise (i.e. talking)nbsp;crow. Sukhan draws his bow and places his arrow in position, intendingnbsp;to shoot the crow, but the crow addresses him in human speech: �Donbsp;not shoot me, Sukhan, but ride instead to the R. Jordan. There stands anbsp;Tatar army.� The fragment breaks off at this point, but it is notnbsp;difficult to see its relationship to the other versions. The bylina evidentlynbsp;opens at the point where Sukhan has left Vladimir�s court and set out onnbsp;his quest. In the present version he finds the damp oak at an earliernbsp;stage in the poem than in the previous versions, and it is introduced fornbsp;a different purpose. The talking crow here takes the place of the talkingnbsp;river in A and C, and the Jordan has been substituted for the Dnepr.nbsp;Here we have an interesting illustration of the Russian attitude to theirnbsp;great river as a barrier between their Christian heroes and the infidelnbsp;Tatars. Sukhan�s quest is here represented as something in the naturenbsp;of a crusade. Some of these new conventions are southern and comparatively local in character. The damp oak and the talking crow whichnbsp;addresses the hero as he is about to shoot are characteristic features ofnbsp;the southern byliny. Despite these differences of detail, however, it isnbsp;easy to see that the outline of the narrative, in this version, correspondsnbsp;to that of the versions previously considered.

The conventions and diction of these versions are full of interest for � Miller, Byliny, p. 132 ff.

the study of the variant versions and the genesis and history of the bylina, though space does not permit us to enter here upon a full discussion of their importance. The dialogue between Sukhan and thenbsp;R. Dnepr recalls the dialogue between Prince Igor and the R. Donets innbsp;the Slovo 0 Polky 1goreve, in which the R. Dn�pr is said to have �closednbsp;its dark banks� (yatvori Dn�pr temn� berede'} to the youth Rostislavnbsp;Vsevolodich.� We may perhaps compare a bylina recorded from Simbirsk^ which relates a dialogue between Dobrynya Nikitich and thenbsp;R. Smorodina, in which the river is referred to as a �gentle, fairnbsp;maid The river addresses him in human speech, and permits him tonbsp;ford her, but afterwards drowns him in consequence of his vauntingnbsp;words. This bylina is said to be very late;3 but the motif of the dialoguenbsp;between a hero and a river, in which the latter is personified as anbsp;maiden or woman, is older than the Slovo 0 Polky Igoreve, where thenbsp;form of the dialogue between Yaroslavna and the R. Dunai suggestsnbsp;that the convention was already stereotyped. We may refer also againnbsp;to the dialogue in the Slovo between Igor and the R. Donets, in whichnbsp;the latter is addressed as a maiden preparing a bed for her lover.* It isnbsp;perhaps worth noting that in the same work the minstrel or author complains that the R. Sula no longer flows with silvery current, and thenbsp;R. Dvina flows sluggishly amid the shouts of the pagans.5 The poeticnbsp;conventions of the bylina of Sukhan, therefore, are to be traced to thenbsp;poetic milieu of the Slovo. The convention is not a common one in thenbsp;by liny, which know nothing of the rusalka (�water-nymph�) of modemnbsp;Russian folk-lore, and, in general, neither personify their rivers nornbsp;people them with personified spirits. In modem oral narrative poetry,nbsp;the convention in Sukhan is comparable rather with a Yugoslav poemnbsp;on the building of the bridge at Visegrad in Bosnia,^ in which thenbsp;builders are hindered in their building operations by the vila or spiritnbsp;maiden of the river. The vila is, of course, absent from the Russian poem,nbsp;the personified river taking her place. It is interesting to note how in thenbsp;bylina of Sukhan the fundamental part played by the R. Dn�pr in thenbsp;political history of ancient Russia is reflected in the partizan attitudenbsp;which the river is represented as adopting in the struggle between thenbsp;Russians of Kiev and the Tatars.

* Slovo, line 694 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Kir�evski, ii. p. 61 ff.

3 Magnus, Ballads, p. 54. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Slovo, line 694 ff.

as we have seen, by no means rare to find a maiden referred to as a white swan. We have seen that the personification of a river as a maidennbsp;is a common poetic convention of the Slovo. In the Slovo also we findnbsp;the maiden identified with the white swan, and associated with the rivernbsp;in a manner which suggests the river vila referred to above. The passagenbsp;is obscure in certain features, but appears to be clear enough in thisnbsp;respect. It may be provisionally translated as follows :

Scorn rose high among the hosts of the descendants of Dazhbog. She' entered as a maiden into the land of Troyan, she splashed with her swannbsp;wings, bathing in the blue expanse of the Don, and aroused a period ofnbsp;trouble.�

It is, we think, in the light of this diction, as found in the Slovo, that the personification of the river and the disappearance of the white swannbsp;from the bylina of Sukhan are to be explained.

We will now turn to the bylina from the R. Kolyma in far northeastern Siberia in 1895 under the title of �Potop Mikhailovich (Ivan Godinovich)�.3 This bylina opens with an account of the arrival ofnbsp;Sukhan Domantevich at Kiev. His appearance is noted with thenbsp;usual formulae attached to a hero. It is not a black crow, or a brightnbsp;falcon flying, it is Sukhan riding a fiery steed, and he sits in his saddlenbsp;like a grey eagle, with eyes bright as the falcon�s, brows black as twonbsp;sables, and a turbulent head like a great beer cauldron. He does notnbsp;pause to pass through the gates but leaps over the iron fence on hisnbsp;steed. He does not hand his steed to a groom, or ask leave of the portersnbsp;or address the attendants, but boldly makes his way through every doornbsp;till he finds himself in the presence of the prince and princess, whom henbsp;greets in the usual courteous manner. They welcome him, and a place isnbsp;made for him at the table, and food is set before him, and they ask himnbsp;where he has been journeying. Sukhan replies that he has been far awaynbsp;across the open plain, and farther still, beyond the blue sea, where he wasnbsp;in the presence of Zakhar Makarevich, where he saw Zakhar�s daughter,nbsp;the lovely white swan. She was as white as snow, her eyes were asnbsp;bright as the falcon�s, her brows as black as two sables as they lay on hernbsp;white cheeks. It is clear that the white swan is simply a fair girl. At thisnbsp;point of the story Potop Mikhailovich, who is seated at the table, springsnbsp;to his feet and bows low before Vladimir, and begs the prince to send

* Edd. generally assume this to be Obida, �scorn�, �contumely�. Could it not, however, have reference to Dazhbog, who is here referred to as standing for all hernbsp;descendants?nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Slovo, line 285 f.

him to woo the white swan. This hero is more generally known as Mikhailo Potyk Ivanovich, and for the sake of convenience we will refernbsp;to him by the latter name, though it is not the one by which he is knownnbsp;in this bylina. From this point (line 34) Mikhailo is the foremost figurenbsp;in the bylina and Sukhan takes only a secondary place. The princenbsp;grants his request, and Mikhailo sets off, accompanied by Dobrynyanbsp;Mikitevich (more usually Nikitich')., Sukhan Domantevich, and Alyoshanbsp;Popovich. On the way they meet a kaleka, and Dobrynya and Sukhannbsp;each try unsuccessfully to force him to change costumes with them,nbsp;till Mikhailo takes him in hand. At this point there is a break in thenbsp;narrative, where the reciter appears to have forgotten, or the editornbsp;omitted a portion. The bylina takes up the narrative again (line 84) withnbsp;the arrival of the heroes at the abode of Zakhar Makarevich, and Mikhailo sends his three companions to sue for the hand of the fair whitenbsp;swan. Zakhar Makarevich replies that his daughter is already betrothednbsp;to Koshel Trep�toy (better known elsewhere as Koshchey the Deathlessnbsp;or the Immortal). Alyosha Popovich retorts that if he will not give hernbsp;willingly they will take her by force, whereupon Zakhar Makarevichnbsp;consents. Again the heroes ride forth, and again we have a break in thenbsp;narrative, but apparently only a brief one, for at line 104 Mikhailonbsp;appears to be in the act of sending his three companions to Kiev to bidnbsp;them come to welcome him and his bride at dawn. Then Koshel comesnbsp;flying to Mikhailo and his bride, and overpowers the hero in his sleep,nbsp;and binds him with iron chains. Koshel takes his bow, and places hisnbsp;arrow in position, and shoots it at Mikhailo. The white swan forbidsnbsp;him to shoot, explaining that the arrow of the hero cannot enter Mik-hailo�s flesh; but it is too late, and the arrow breaks through all Mik-hailo�s bonds, and Mikhailo frees himself, and seizes his sharp sabre, andnbsp;makes an end of Koshel. Then we are told that Mikhailo rides away, butnbsp;he does not take his bride with him, and Alyosha greets him withnbsp;ironical words which seem to mean that though his wooing has beennbsp;successful, yet the hero returns alone.

It is obvious that this story has a considerable element in common with the Russian bylina of Sukhan. Both stories have as their theme anbsp;mission sent from Vladimir to bring to his court a white swan. Thenbsp;white swan, as her name suggests, lives on the edge of water�thenbsp;Dn�pr in the Russian, the blue sea in the Siberian. The same hero playsnbsp;a part in both stories, and the beginnings of the two stories seem tonbsp;supplement one another, though they are not identical. According tonbsp;the Siberian version it is after viewing the white swan that Sukhan

145 comes to Vladimir�s court and tells the prince of her beauty. In thenbsp;Russian versions Sukhan is first introduced to us at Vladimir�s feast,nbsp;where he boasts that he will bring the white swan alive and uninjured.nbsp;We are not told that he has already seen her himself; but perhaps thisnbsp;may be inferred. In both versions a hero at once goes to obtain thenbsp;white swan. In the Siberian version the white swan is a maiden, as innbsp;many Russian byliny. In the Russian versions of Sukhan the white swannbsp;is never introduced to us in person, and she appears to have dropped outnbsp;of the story inadvertently; but in two of these versions the river isnbsp;personified as a fair maiden, who seems in some way to have taken thenbsp;place of the white swan. In the Russian versions the hero who goes tonbsp;seek the white swan is Sukhan, while in the Siberian it is Mikhailonbsp;Potyk, which seems less natural, seeing that in this same version we arenbsp;told that it is Sukhan and not Mikhailo who has seen her and brings thenbsp;report of her to Kiev. Is it possible that in the Siberian version thenbsp;position of the two heroes has been transposed, and that the better-known hero has usurped the original function of the more obscure.^ Innbsp;favour of such a suggestion we may refer to Sukhan�s patronymicnbsp;Ivanovich, which belongs more properly to Mikhailo Potyk, and thenbsp;substitution of which for Domantevich would seem to suggest thatnbsp;there has been some confusion between the two heroes in the Siberiannbsp;version. It may be further added in favour of this suggestion that in thenbsp;best Russian versions only two heroes are associated with Mikhailo asnbsp;his sworn brothers, whereas in the Siberian there are three, making anbsp;very unusual grouping of four, and suggesting that one of them is anbsp;comparatively recent introduction.

In both stories the hero has to cross a sheet of water and to fight a battle before the White Swan can be his. This is, of course, not unusual; but it is curious that in both stories the life of the hero is attemptednbsp;by an ambush, his enemy shooting an arrow while the hero is off hisnbsp;guard. In the Russian version this results in Sukhan�s mortal wound,nbsp;while in the Siberian version the result is different. It is not the hero whonbsp;dies, but his enemy. Yet it is again curious that in both stories, while thenbsp;hero is represented as victorious, he returns without his prize, the whitenbsp;swan�a fact which is left wholly unexplained. We are not told hernbsp;ultimate fate in either story. This part of the Siberian version is obscurenbsp;and obviously imperfect. The latter part of the bylina has not been wellnbsp;remembered. On the whole a comparison of these two stories wouldnbsp;seem to suggest th at they are derived ultimately from a common original ;nbsp;and that the opening and early part of both byliny have been compara-CL ii

lively well remembered in both traditions, but best in the Siberian, while the latter part has not been perfectly remembered in either, though itnbsp;would not be difficult to show how each could be utilised to supplementnbsp;the other. Before forming any definite conclusion on this point, however, we will next compare the Siberian version of Mikhailo Potyk withnbsp;a Russian bylina relating to the same hero.

The bylina of Mikhailo Potyk is a favourite subject among the reciters of north Russia, and is found in a large number of variants. The story isnbsp;a long one and contains an unusually large number of incidents. It isnbsp;therefore the more surprising that the modern versions differ little fromnbsp;one another save in the proper names, and in the order of events, whichnbsp;are sometimes transposed. Otherwise the variations, even in details, are,nbsp;for the most part, inconsiderable. This would seem to suggest that allnbsp;the modern north Russian versions of Mikhailo Potyk�and perhapsnbsp;the earlier versions also*�are derived from a single common redactionnbsp;at no very remote date. Among the best of the modern versions�thoughnbsp;not the longest^�is the version recited by Kalinin to Gilferding, whichnbsp;consists of 971 lines. It is interesting to observe that although thenbsp;actual outline of the two narratives corresponds, the abridged versionnbsp;recited by Kalinin to Rybnikov�s emissary^ consists of only 504 lines.nbsp;The same reciter was able, in fact, to recite the same bylina in a compassnbsp;double the length without material alteration of his narrative. The discrepancy is the more striking in view of the fact that Kalinin twicenbsp;recited the bylina in the form recorded by Rybnikov, apparently practically without alteration.^ We will take as the basis for our comparisonnbsp;of this bylina with the Siberian version the version recited by Kalinin tonbsp;Gilferding. As a summary of this version has already been given (p. 41 ff.nbsp;above), we will refer the reader to this passage to avoid repetition here.

It will be seen that the Russian tradition of Mikhailo Potyk as represented by this version has much in common with the Siberiannbsp;bylina discussed above. In both versions Vladimir at a royal feastnbsp;dispatches Mikhailo Potyk on an embassy to the home of the whitenbsp;swan. It is not stated in the Russian version under discussion thatnbsp;Vladimir was himself aware of the existence of the white swan; he

3 It appears that Rybnikov never interviewed Kalinin himself. See the editor�s note, Rybnikov, n. p. 54 f.

merely sends three heroes�among them Mikhailo�to collect tribute in different quarters. But in the version recorded by Kirsha Danilov wenbsp;are told that the tribute is to take the form of water birds/ while in onenbsp;version recorded by Rybnikov� Vladimir tells his heroes that in sendingnbsp;them ostensibly to collect tribute, his true intention has been that theynbsp;should procure wives for themselves. We may doubtless assume, therefore, that a Russian tradition existed in which Vladimir had sent one ornbsp;more of the heroes to obtain tribute in the form of white swans. In bothnbsp;the Russian and the Siberian versions Mikhailo obtains his White Swannbsp;by force. In the Siberian version she is already betrothed to anothernbsp;hero, Koshchey the Deathless. This is not stated in the Russian version,nbsp;but the consistent hostility of the White Swan to her deliverer in allnbsp;versions after the scene in the tomb is exceedingly difficult to explain,nbsp;as is also her attachment to the Lithuanian prince�or his counterpart innbsp;other versions�and could most naturally be accounted for if he hadnbsp;had some prior claim on her affections which had been violated bynbsp;Mikhailo in the first instance.

In both the Russian and the Siberian versions a joint attack by Mik-hailo�s enemy and the White Swan herself is made on the life of Mikhailo when he is asleep, though in the Russian version this is developed into an elaborate series of encounters. In both versions the hero isnbsp;rendered helpless before his enemy makes the attack�in the Siberiannbsp;by iron bands, in the Russian by a magic potion. In both versions,nbsp;however, Mikhailo is restored to freedom and consciousness bynbsp;miraculous means, and in both he is enabled to destroy his enemy,nbsp;perhaps the White Swan also, though in the Siberian version this is notnbsp;actually stated. In both versions, at any rate, Mikhailo, though victorious in the duel, returns without his prize, the White Swan. It isnbsp;noteworthy that in both versions Mikhailo�s enemy uses bow and arrow,nbsp;while Mikhailo cuts off his head with a sharp sabre. It may be added thatnbsp;there are other incidents which correspond in the two versions, the mostnbsp;striking being the introduction of the kal�ka and the change of dress.nbsp;The lacuna in the Siberian version at this point has doubtless robbed usnbsp;of several other identical or similar features in the two versions.

There can be no question that the Siberian tradition of Mikhailo Potyk is a variant of that which relates to the Russian hero of the samenbsp;name. It has already been shown that there are cogent reasons fornbsp;regarding this Siberian tradition as a variant of the Russian tradition of

' Kir�evski, iv. p. 52; cf. also a version from the White Sea cited by Dum�zil, R.�.S. V (1925), p. 208.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� II. p. 609.

Sukhan. It would therefore be tedious to compare the Russian tradition of Mikhailo with the Russian tradition of Sukhan, though such a comparison is not without interest, and has been made by us elsewhere.nbsp;Here we may take it for granted, in view of what has been said above,nbsp;that a certain relationship between the two undoubtedly exists. It wouldnbsp;be of interest for the study of the growth of variants if we could indicatenbsp;the nature of this relationship and the relative chronology of the twonbsp;versions. It has been shown above that the diction and the conventionsnbsp;of the bylina of Sukhan belong to the same poetic milieu as the Slovo onbsp;Polky Igoreve. We may therefore infer that this bylina is conservative innbsp;form. It has also been observed, on the other hand, that the relativelynbsp;close correspondence between the Russian versions of the lylina ofnbsp;Mikhailo Potyk argues a comparatively recent origin for this redaction,nbsp;though this may nevertheless mean a date prior to the seventeenth century. It remains to see if any other literary evidence can be found in thenbsp;Russian bylina of Mikhailo Potyk which will throw light on the periodnbsp;to which the present form of the Russian bylina tradition is to be assigned.

Despite the points of similarity between the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk noted above and the bylina of Sukhan, there are certain points of difference which require explanation. Of these the most important is thenbsp;strange mutual oath sworn between Mikhailo and the White Swan in thenbsp;bylina of Mikhailo, and the ensuing encounter with the dragon in thenbsp;tomb. There are also some curious features in the former bylina whichnbsp;are not well motivated, and which also require explanation. We maynbsp;instance Marya�s implacable hatred of her lover after her deliverancenbsp;from death, and her anxiety to remain with a strange husband who hasnbsp;suddenly appeared, comparatively late in the story, and carried her offnbsp;from Mikhailo. In the Siberian version of the combined story ofnbsp;Sukhan and Mikhailo we are told that Marya was already affianced tonbsp;Koshchey the Deathless when Mikhailo carried her off, and this would,nbsp;of course, account satisfactorily for both phenomena. But there is nonbsp;hint of this in the Russian versions of the story, in which the encounternbsp;with the dragon appears as so prominent a feature.

Now there can be no doubt that in its present form the encounter with the dragon is a common folk-motif which is found in many lands,nbsp;as Dum�zil pointed out in 1925.Five years later Dum�zil, withoutnbsp;reference to the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk, published in a collection ofnbsp;songs of the Ossetes and neighbouring peoples in the heart of thenbsp;Caucasus a story which has so striking a resemblance to the incidentsnbsp;� R.�.S. V (1925), p. 219 ff.

149 of Mikhailo Potyk under discussion as to constitute in our opinionnbsp;another variant. At the same time it helps to explain the curious and inexplicable features in the Russian story noted above.

�Sosruko [one of the early heroes whose exploits are still recited by their minstrels] avait une ma�tresse, nomm�e Nart-�an. Un jour, en lanbsp;quittant pour aller prendre part aux jeux des Nartes, Sosruko �changeanbsp;avec elle un grand serment; ils r�solurent de ne point se survivre l�unnbsp;� l�autre. Or, trois^jours plus tard, quand il revint, on lui annon�anbsp;l�aifreuse nouvelle: Zan, sa �an �tait morte et ensevelie. Il alla jusqu��nbsp;la tombe, enleva une � une toutes les pierres dont les Nartes avaientnbsp;couvert la fosse, il se jeta sur le cadavre et sanglota am�rement. Au boutnbsp;de quelques minutes, il vit s�avancer dans la tombe deux serpents qui senbsp;mirent � se battre, et finalement l�un tua l�autre. Le survivant disparut,nbsp;puis revint, tra�nant une feuille verte dont il frotta son adversaire:nbsp;aussit�t le serpent mort se ranima et tous deux s�enfuirent. Sosrukonbsp;ramassa la feuille, en frotta le cadavre de �an: � peine avait-il achev� cenbsp;travail que Zan resuscita. Par la suite il l��pousa.�^

In a variant the husband of the bride, on seeing her resuscitated, claims her as she and her deliverer leave the tomb ; but the hero pointsnbsp;out that by burying her, the husband has relinquished his claims onnbsp;her.�

It will be seen that the incident is very similar to the parallel episode in the Russian bylina, even in the games in which, in many versions,nbsp;Mikhailo is engaged when the news of the death of the White Swan isnbsp;brought to him. It is interesting to observe that in neither of thesenbsp;versions is the dead woman the wife of the hero. Is it possible that in thenbsp;original Russian version, as in the Caucasian and the Siberian, the Whitenbsp;Swan already had a husband when Mikhailo found her? In this case itnbsp;would be natural that she should subsequently rejoin him whennbsp;opportunity permitted.

However this may be, there can be no doubt that the entire episode is a common folk-motif. We shall therefore probably be safe in regardingnbsp;it as either wholly intrusive, or else as a transformation of some othernbsp;incident which originally stood in its place in the bylina. The Siberiannbsp;tradition has no hint of it, and the bylina of Sukhan has no real parallel.nbsp;It is found in the version of Kirsha Danilov, however, and as thisnbsp;version is said to be virtually identical with seventeenth-century versions

we may presume that the incident is found in them also. We may suppose, therefore, that it belongs to a redaction of the bylina which isnbsp;later than the bylina of Sukhan and prior to the seventeenth century.nbsp;And this is the conclusion to which, as we have seen, a general comparison of the modem Russian versions has already led us.

Before leaving the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk with its curious history we will compare the eighteenth-century version recorded by Kirshanbsp;Danilov^ with the modern Russian version utilised above, in order tonbsp;illustrate the chronological change in the bylina during the interveningnbsp;period, and also in order to illustrate the difference in tone and colour innbsp;the two narratives as representing the different mentality of the reciters,nbsp;or the tradition which they follow.

At a feast given to his princes and boyars Vladimir gives orders to Mikhailo to go and shoot geese and swans and ducks for his royal table.nbsp;Mikhailo sets off at once, and on reaching the � blue sea � (yinee mor�} proceeds to shoot a number of birds. As he is about to leave he sees a fairnbsp;White Swan, and is going to shoot her, but she begs him to desist andnbsp;approaches the shore. She tells him that her name is Avdotya Likhovi-devna, and beseeches him to marry her, and to promise her that whichever of them shall first die shall be accompanied by the other alive intonbsp;the tomb. Mikhailo replies that they will go forthwith to the cathedralnbsp;in Kiev, where the bells are ringing for Vespers, and there they will benbsp;affianced. Then he rides away to Kiev, and the White Swan flies therenbsp;and arrives before him. Mikhailo goes to the royal court, and tellsnbsp;Vladimir that he has brought him the grey ducks and swans as he wasnbsp;bidden, and for himself a fair maiden whom he desires to marry forthwith. Accordingly they go to the cathedral and are duly married, takingnbsp;their strange oath together before the cathedral clergy, and in thenbsp;evening Vladimir gives a great marriage feast in their honour.

Six months later the White Swan suddenly falls ill and dies. Mikhailo goes immediately to the cathedral to inform the clergy, and they tellnbsp;him to place the body on a sledge and to bring it at once to the porch ofnbsp;the cathedral. Then they dig a deep and wide grave, and when it isnbsp;ready they let down the corpse, and they place Mikhailo in it also withnbsp;his horse and his armour. Then they cover the burial chamber withnbsp;planks of oak, and heap golden sand above it, and on the top they placenbsp;a wooden cross. But in one spot they insert a rope which is tied to thenbsp;cathedral bell. And there Mikhailo remains with his good steed fromnbsp;mid-day till midnight, and he lights a taper of pure wax. And whennbsp;� The text of Kirsha�s version will be found in Kir�evski, iv. p. 52 ff.

I51 midnight comes, numbers of dragons assemble, and there comes onenbsp;great dragon in particular, stinging and scorching with its fiery flame.nbsp;But Mikhailo is not afraid. He seizes his sharp sword and kills the evilnbsp;dragon, and cutting off his dragon head he anoints the corpse of Avdotyanbsp;with it. Then she, �the heretic�, comes to life; and Mikhailo pulls thenbsp;bell rope. All the Orthodox people assemble and marvel; but Mikhailonbsp;cries out from within the tomb in a loud voice. And they break opennbsp;the tomb with all speed, and take out Mikhailo and his good steed andnbsp;his young wife, and tell the news to Prince Vladimir and the cathedralnbsp;clergy, who revive them with holy water, and bid them live for ever.nbsp;And when Mikhailo grows old and dies, then the priests bury himnbsp;according to their original promise, and with him they bury alive innbsp;the damp earth his wife Avdotya Likhovidevna.

It will be seen that Kirsha�s version is less comprehensive than any of the other versions which we have considered. Only one hero is mentioned, and the only incidents which are narrated with any degree ofnbsp;fullness are the meeting of Mikhailo and the White Swan, their burial,nbsp;and the incident in the tomb. As regards the actual incidents related,nbsp;Kirsha�s version is nearer to the Caucasian story than to the Siberian ornbsp;the remaining Russian versions.

On the other hand the tone of the narrative is far removed from either that of folk-tale or of heroic poetry. A strong ecclesiastical biasnbsp;pervades Kirsha�s version of this strange story. The hero is attentive tonbsp;the cathedral bell ringing for matins; it is before the assembled clergynbsp;that the strange oath is taken, and it is in the cathedral that the hero andnbsp;the White Swan are married. Immediately on her death the hero againnbsp;repairs to the cathedral, and the obsequies are carried out under directnbsp;ecclesiastical supervision. It is the clergy who dig the grave and enclosenbsp;Mikhailo alive with the corpse. Yet all is carried out in due order.nbsp;Wax tapers are lighted beside the corpse, and means are placed withinnbsp;the hero�s reach by which he can communicate with the clergy in case ofnbsp;need. They assemble at once when Mikhailo rings the cathedral bell,nbsp;and release him and his bride from the tomb, and sprinkle them withnbsp;holy water. At a subsequent date the clergy once more enforce thenbsp;fulfilment of the oath. Throughout this version Mikhailo appears as anbsp;zealous member of the Orthodox Church. There can be no questionnbsp;but that an early tradition existed in which Mikhailo is almost more of anbsp;saint than a bogatyr.

Before leaving the byliny of Sukhan and Mikhailo Potyk and their variants we may pause to call attention�as others have often done�to

the close similarity between the latter bylina and that of Ivan Godino-vich. A summary of the latter story has already been given (p. 46 f. above) and need not be repeated here. We would call attention however to thenbsp;main points of resemblance in the two stories, and more especially to thenbsp;Siberian version, including the first part of the latter, in which Sukhannbsp;plays a part. In both a hero goes to a distant place �beyond the bluenbsp;sea� where they see a White Swan, and come back to Kiev full of hernbsp;praises, and then obtain an escort from Vladimir wherewith to woo her;nbsp;but on arriving, their suit is refused, on the ground�in both versions�nbsp;that she is already betrothed to Koshel (Koshchey) the Immortal. Innbsp;both Koshel (Koshchey) is represented as �flying�; and in other respectsnbsp;also he resembles Tugarin and Idolishche. In the Russian versions ofnbsp;Mikhailo Potyk it is not definitely stated that the White Swan has beennbsp;betrothed to Koshchey before she is carried off by Mikhailo, but wenbsp;have seen that it is implied by her subsequent anxiety to join him. Innbsp;both, the first lover�apparently in his dragon form�surprises Mikhailo and the White Swan as they are alone, and is killed in the combatnbsp;with the hero which follows. In both the White Swan shows implacablenbsp;hatred to the hero, at least from the point of the story when Koshcheynbsp;comes to claim her. In both the hero returns to Kiev without thenbsp;White Swan.

It has generally been assumed that confusion has taken place between the stories of Mikhailo Potyk and Ivan Godinovich; but it is by nonbsp;means clear what exactly are the elements confused. The story of Ivannbsp;Godinovich contains practically nothing which does not occur in eithernbsp;Mikhailo Potyk or Sukhan. We have seen that there is reason to believenbsp;that into the former story a folk-motif has been introduced, doubtlessnbsp;because it bore a resemblance to some element in the original story.nbsp;Here the attack of the dragon lover on the hero and the White Swannbsp;in the tent at night is sufficiently close to the arrival of the dragon innbsp;the tomb at night where Mikhailo and the White Swan are alone tonbsp;account for the substitution of the latter motif for the former. It isnbsp;interesting too that in one bylina the hero�s name is Ivan, whereas innbsp;the other this is the hero�s patronymic. We suspect that we have beforenbsp;us an instance, not of �confusion� but of transference, the entire storynbsp;having been transferred from the father to the son�as is suggested innbsp;regard to Sukhan (cf. p. 117 above)�though the process may possiblynbsp;be the reverse. In any case we have little doubt that the ^lina of Ivannbsp;Godinovich is merely a variant version of that of Mikhailo Potyknbsp;Ivanovich.

A number of byliny published in variant versions in Kir�evski�s collection relate to Prince Roman and his relations with his wife,nbsp;Marya, the White Swan. It is not easy to say whether these iyliny arenbsp;variants of one original theme, or whether they are derived from twonbsp;originally distinct stories which have influenced one another verynbsp;considerably in certain details.� In one of these byliny an obscure hint isnbsp;given in the opening lines of the murder of Marya the White Swan bynbsp;Prince Roman, in consequence of her dream that she lost the ring fromnbsp;her right hand�a dream full of foreboding. After this, however, wenbsp;have no further reference to bad relations between them. The Whitenbsp;Swan is carried offquot; by raiders, but escapes to a mountain where shenbsp;effects a disguise, and after fording a shallow stream, and crossing a stillnbsp;bigger river on a tree-trunk, she eventually reaches Russia, where she isnbsp;re-united to her husband. A second bylina contains no obscure hints.nbsp;It relates how Prince Roman rends his wife in pieces and casts her intonbsp;the river; how an eagle carries her hand with its gold ring, and drops itnbsp;in the garden where her daughter is walking; and how her remainsnbsp;are ultimately found and buried by the daughter and her maids.

It will seem at first sight that the stories have little in common. It is curious, however, that the first bylina should open with the obscurenbsp;statement that Prince Roman dismembered (lit. �cut up�) his wife innbsp;consequence of her foreboding dreams. Is this intended merely as anbsp;static description of Prince Roman, a manner of intimating to the readernbsp;which Prince Roman the following story refers toIt is a commonplacenbsp;of Russian heroic poetry that the prince ill-treats his wife when hernbsp;dreams forebode evil to him. The motif occurs e.g. in certain versionsnbsp;of the bylina of Volga. On the other hand the river plays a prominentnbsp;part in both poems ; in both cases Marya�s body is entrusted to it, in onenbsp;case alive, in the other dead. Similarities of detail may also be mentioned,nbsp;such as the prominence of the gold ring, and its loss; the walk in thenbsp;'green garden� with the maids. The general impression left on the mindnbsp;is that we are dealing with variant accounts of a single original story,nbsp;which have had a long enough history in oral tradition to have lost mostnbsp;of their common features.

We will next compare two very brief poems relating to comparatively recent times, recording the murder of the Tsarevich Dimitri, the youngestnbsp;son of Ivan the Terrible, at the hands of the regent, Boris Godunov, innbsp;1591. As is very common in Russian oral poetry of the last three or

� One version of each of the two principal themes is translated by Chadwick, p. 164 ff.

four centuries, the Types are not clearly differentiated; but the first of the two poems about to be considered is approximating to a poem ofnbsp;Type B, the second is clearly a narrative poem. The form of the poemsnbsp;would suggest that their prototype was composed shortly after thenbsp;event which they celebrate ; but they differ from one another considerablynbsp;in style, and it is not at first sight obvious whether the two poems represent variant traditional versions of a single original composition, ornbsp;whether they represent two poems originally distinct, each composed innbsp;the conventional style traditionally associated with such themes. Thenbsp;first poem, which was published by DaV is as follows:�

It is not a cruel serpent rearing itself up. It is a caitiff dog raising a steel knife.

10 It has not fallen on to the water, nor on to the earth. It has fallen on to the white breast of the tsarevich.nbsp;None other than the tsarevich Dimitri;

A kite built a nest for its nestlings! Now this eagle is the tsarevich Dimitri,nbsp;While the kite is Boris Godunov.

20 Having murdered the tsarevich, he seated himself on the throne. And he reigned, the villain, for seven whole years.

And the kite has perished in his nest. His plumage is wafted to the clouds.nbsp;His blood has been poured down the River Moskva.3

* We do not know from what district Dal�s text is recorded. A second text differing only very slightly from Dal�s was also published by Minyaev.

� See Kir�evski, vu. p. i. For the following translation and a note on the circumstances narrated in the poem, cf. Chadwick, p. 215 ff.

3 Boris�s wife and son were murdered by the adherents of the �False Dimitri�, and Boris himself died in 1605 as the usurper was actually approaching Moscow. Itnbsp;was believed that his death was not without violence.

The second poem, which was recorded from the recitation of an old woman from Tulsk in 1834, is as follows:�

O, my brothers, in years gone by, in times long past. In times long past, under the tsars of old.nbsp;The times were evil, and wretched.

The villainous hands of the boyars and nobles. One turbulent head rose up among the boyars.nbsp;One turbulent head, Boris Godunov himself.

IO Now Godunov duped all the boyar folk. He resolved to govern our foolish Russia.nbsp;He seized all Russia, and usurped the throne of Moscow,nbsp;And he seized, moreover, the realm of the dead tsar.nbsp;Of the glorious dead tsar, the holy tsarevich Dimitri.

And having collected them, he spoke accursed words to them: �Robbers, you bold youths!

20 And come back, saying: �We have murdered the tsar.^� If you do me this service I will reward you with gold and silver.�nbsp;Then the accursed folk went, the rascal robbers.nbsp;They went into the sacred place, into the glorious city of Uglich,nbsp;And there they murdered the holy young tsarevich Dimitri,

25 And then returned, and told it to Boris Godunov. When Boris heard it, he rejoiced at the evil deed.nbsp;And Boris ruled as tsar for exactly five years;nbsp;Boris killed himself with the bitterness of a snake�s venom,nbsp;A snake�s venom, a sharp dagger.

It will be seen that while the two poems narrate precisely the same event in almost identical compass, they differ considerably both innbsp;substance and in style. The text published by Dal, which is very closenbsp;to that of Minyaev, we will call for convenience, I; that from Tulsk, II.nbsp;The first difference between the two versions, which strikes us at thenbsp;outset, is the difference of tense in the opening lines. I pictures thenbsp;event as actually occurring at the moment, II is a narrative poem in thenbsp;past. In I the scene of the murder of the tsarevich is represented asnbsp;taking place before our eyes, the narrator acting as a kind of Mentor,nbsp;though the reference to the length of the subsequent reign of Borisnbsp;throws the scene back into the past at the close. In II the entirenbsp;incident is represented at the outset as taking place in a distant age.

I represents the murder of the tsarevich as the work of an eagle; but as the tsarevich is himself described as an eagle later in the poem, and Boris,nbsp;the murderer, as a kite, the poet would seem to have confused his metaphors. The plural of the verb is used of the actual murderers, howevernbsp;(�They have murdered�, etc.). In II, Boris is said to have bribed othersnbsp;to murder the tsarevich, and it is stated that he himself rejoices whennbsp;he hears that it is successfully carried out. In I, Boris is said to havenbsp;reigned for seven years, though five years are stated in Minyaev�snbsp;version; and in II, for five years. In I, Boris is merely said to perishnbsp;in his own home by a violent death; in II he is said to have stabbednbsp;himself with a sharp dagger. In I, the style is figurative throughout,nbsp;the narrative being conducted by a series of negative metaphors, eachnbsp;followed by its literal interpretation, giving a staccato effect characteristic of Russian oral poetry. In II the narrative is direct and literal, andnbsp;the style cursive. There is, however, one exception. In II the daggernbsp;with which Boris killed himself is described as a snake, and it isnbsp;interesting to notice that the same metaphor is used in I of the daggernbsp;with which the tsarevich is murdered.

This feature alone would make it probable that the two versions are not wholly independent of one another, and the number of commonnbsp;features in the two poems renders this still more probable. The compassnbsp;of the poems is practically the same, and the aspects of the incidentnbsp;selected for the narrative or for comment also correspond closely for thenbsp;most part. We may refer to Boris�s part in the murder of the tsarevich,nbsp;his usurpation, the reference to the length of his reign, and his violentnbsp;death, with which each poem closes�all these suggest an identical prototype for the tv^o poems which have passed into oral tradition and beennbsp;modified and refashioned according to the divergent tastes and literarynbsp;environment of the popular singers.

We will next compare the opening lines of two variants of a bylina, also recorded in modern times, which gives an account of the departurenbsp;of Peter the Great from Russia in 1697 to travel in western Europe. Thenbsp;first version, which we have translated below, is incomplete, as are alsonbsp;two other variants composed in a closely similar style. This fragment isnbsp;recorded from the Government of Saratov.^

It is not a mist arising from the sea. It is geese and swans which have risen from the sea.nbsp;Geese and swans and grey ducks;

5 The geese and swans are flying with their goslings, The little grey ducks are swimming with their ducklings;nbsp;The geese and swans have risen from the sea,nbsp;And the blue sea is full of agitation.nbsp;The white fish have all dived to the bottom,

IO All dived to the bottom, to quiet waters, To quiet waters, to shady pools.nbsp;To shady pools, to safe retreats.nbsp;For over the sea, the blue sea.nbsp;The blue sea, the Khvalinsk,^

And one ship sped before the rest. Before the rest, as a falcon flies.nbsp;Bravely was the ship adorned.nbsp;The sails were all of taffeta,

� Ho, my gentle sailors, Climb the ship�s mast.nbsp;Look out through the telescope:

30 Are we far from the city of Stockholm.^ We will go to the city of Stockholm this evening,nbsp;We will carry off the citizens of Stockholm at daybreak.�

With this we may compare the opening lines of a poem from Nizhe-gorod^ which narrates the same journey of Peter:

No one knows, no one can say Whither our sovereign tsar is preparing to go.nbsp;He has loaded his ships with pure silver.nbsp;He has furnished his vessels with bright gold.nbsp;He is taking with him very few men�nbsp;No one except the Preobrazhenski grenadiers.^nbsp;Our father the White Tsar has commanded thus:

* The collectors observe that the singer once substituted �Baltic�; others two or three times substituted J^ereyski, i.e. no doubt, Varangian, or Norse.

� Kir�evski, vin. p. 164 ff. The whole poem is translated by Chadwick, p. 260 ff.

5 So called from the village of Preobrazhenskoe near Moscow, where Peter lived as a boy. The Preobrazhenskoe regiment developed out of the dru^^hina or body ofnbsp;personal followers whom Peter collected round him during his boyhood. In thisnbsp;regiment Peter himself held a commission as captain of the gunners.

Do not address me as your tsar or sovereign, Address me as a merchant from overseas.�nbsp;Now our sovereign tsar has set off to amuse himself at sea.nbsp;When the White Tsar had been crossing the sea for a week.nbsp;He continued for a second week;

It will be seen that the style of the two poems is wholly different. The version from Saratov is ambitious and highly figurative in style.nbsp;It is composed in the stereotyped diction of the Kiev byliny, and is richnbsp;in traditional imagery, though this imagery has not always been set in itsnbsp;correct connotation. A critical audience might observe that the actionnbsp;here ascribed to the fish is one which is more appropriately, and morenbsp;usually ascribed in Russian popular poetical convention to the ducks. Thenbsp;description of the fleet setting out, and the tsar�s falcon ship outstrippingnbsp;the rest is strongly reminiscent of the description of the departure ofnbsp;Sadko�s fleet in the Novgorod bylina^ while the description of the falconnbsp;ship itself is equally traditional, and recalls the vessel of Solovey Budi-mirovich. The archaic and highly artificial �negative comparative� isnbsp;used, and the static adjectives slavny (�glorious�), and the still morenbsp;archaic khrabry (�heroic�).

In contrast to this the Nizhegorod version is simple and direct, almost bare, and the reference to the silver and gold with which thenbsp;tsar�s vessel is furnished is the only departure from verisimilitude. Therenbsp;is no hint of a fleet to disturb the quiet waters and put wild nature into anbsp;panic. Personal details of Peter�s life are remembered�the name of hisnbsp;favourite regiment which he had formed himself, and in which he hadnbsp;held a commission in early life; the incognito under which the tsarnbsp;travelled on his western tour, and the small number of his attendants.nbsp;The form and the manner of the narrative have left the traditionalnbsp;style of the Kiev byliny far behind, and with them the elaboratelynbsp;embroidered diction, and have substituted the modem cursivenbsp;narrative style, and an artistic attitude characterised chiefly by itsnbsp;na�vet�.

There is a series of poems of Type D belonging to the last four centuries which resemble one another very closely, but of which thenbsp;term �variant version� can only be used with great caution. This seriesnbsp;consists of laments or elegies on dead tsars which are ascribed to thenbsp;troops, and which purport to voice their grief for their dead sovereign.

Some account of these poems has already been given (p. 62 above).* They generally open with a prip�vka or overture, which consists of anbsp;brief address to some natural object, such as the moon, the rough winds,nbsp;or a berry or bunch of flowers or grasses. This prip�vka has no directnbsp;connection with what follows, but often delicately expresses the moodnbsp;�regretful, wistful, or distressed�of the reciter or composer of thenbsp;poem which follows. Following the prip�vka there are usually a fewnbsp;lines introducing us to a poem of Type D. These lines state as a rulenbsp;that a young soldier is standing on guard beside the grave or coffin ofnbsp;the dead tsar, or at the door of the cathedral where the body lies in state.nbsp;The lines are generally expressed in the past tense, and the poem thennbsp;passes on to report the words which grief forces from the young soldier.nbsp;With this speech the poem closes. The speech itself is particularly interesting because in all cases it follows very closely a fixed traditionalnbsp;formula which is also found frequently in popular elegies relating tonbsp;unnamed individuals. The poems are generally quite short, varyingnbsp;from twenty lines to fifty.

It will be seen that these laments are composed in a traditional framework which consists of three parts (i) theprip�vka or overture; (2) the narrative of the young soldier�s bearing; (3) the soldier�s speech. Thenbsp;chief examples known to us are the laments for Ivan the Terrible, Peternbsp;the Great, Katharine II, and Alexander I. They range over a period,nbsp;therefore, of two hundred and forty years. It is difficult to use the termnbsp;variant of such poems, and one even hesitates to assume that any onenbsp;poem is based directly on one of the preceding. A variant of thenbsp;Lament for Peter the Great translated by MorfilP resembles verynbsp;closely the Lament for Ivan the Terrible, especially in the openingnbsp;lines; but a variant of this from Saratov published by Kir�evski^ showsnbsp;considerable modification, and suggests that the poet is following anbsp;different traditional form of elegy. Again, both the opening and thenbsp;closing lines of the Lament for Alexander I show a variation from thenbsp;earlier laments, though the opening lines are a traditional formula. It isnbsp;only in the speech of the soldier that the tradition appears to be absolutely fixed. Here the variations are merely verbal, and correspondnbsp;closely, moreover, with the speeches in the popular timeless-namelessnbsp;laments referred to above. It would seem probable, therefore, that thesenbsp;speeches are derived from some ancient traditional formula used in the

* Translations of a representative series of examples will be found in Chadwick, passim,

� Russia, p. 168. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 VIII. p. 278 f.; Chadwick, p. 274 f.

obsequies for the dead. It is not improbable that the figure of the young soldier may also be derived from some such ritual. On the other handnbsp;the possibility of some pre-eminent artistic prototype for the wholenbsp;series is also to be taken into account. For obvious reasons elegiacnbsp;poetry rarely survives in oral tradition for long periods, and it is notnbsp;surprising that no specimens of Type D relating to the Kiev period havenbsp;been recorded in modern popular tradition. Such poems must nevertheless have existed, and may well have created the traditional formulae fornbsp;succeeding generations, even while the prototypes themselves perishednbsp;comparatively early, owing to the ephemeral interest of their subject.

Finally we will refer to another series of poems relating to identical situations, but ranging over several centuries. This series consists ofnbsp;Laments of tsaritsas and princesses who are forced to take the veil. Asnbsp;examples^ we may mention the Lament of the wife of Ivan the Terriblenbsp;who is named in the song Marfa Matv�evna;^ the two Laments of thenbsp;princess Ksenya, the daughter of Boris Godunov; and the Lament ofnbsp;Evdokya Fedorovna Lopukhina, the wife of Peter the Great, whosenbsp;name is not mentioned in the poem.3 All these ladies are represented asnbsp;lamenting their impending fate immediately before departing to thenbsp;convent. A fifth example may also be mentioned which has reference tonbsp;an unnamed wife of a certain Prince Vasili. The prince himself has beennbsp;drowned at sea, but scholars have not succeeded in ascertaining hisnbsp;identity. In this last example the confinement would seem to be voluntary; but the point is by no means clear, and the poem is obscure in thisnbsp;and many other features.

The two Laments^ of Ksenya Borisovna appear to be variant versions. They refer to her fears that the Pretender, Grigori Otrepev, will sendnbsp;her to a convent, as we know actually happened shortly after hisnbsp;accession in 1605. The two poems were recorded by Richard Jamesnbsp;(cf. p. 6 above) in 1619, and are therefore especially interesting in

� Translations of the examples mentioned below will be found in Chadwick, passim, where references to the texts are also given.

� On the name and the identity of the tsaritsa with whom the poem is concerned, see Chadwick, p. 203 f.

3 After Peter�s return from his foreign travels he divorced his wife and issued an edict that her name was never to be mentioned ; cf. p. 66 above.

* It is possible that these are, in reality, one continuous poem (not two versions). They are printed as such in Wiener�s Anthology of Russian Literature, I. p. 132 f.,nbsp;and by Morfill, History of Russia, p, loi. We think it more likely that the two poemsnbsp;are separate, as printed by Bezsonov in his edition of Kireevski, Supplement to vii.nbsp;p. 58 f.

l6l view of the short time which intervened between their composition andnbsp;James�s record. It is clear that a definite relationship exists between thenbsp;two poems. One line is found identical in both:

In each poem Ksenya addresses the house she is about to leave, and asks who will live there after her departure. Thus in one she cries:

Alas our pleasant halls! Who will dwell within you,nbsp;After our living there as kings.nbsp;And after Boris Godunov.^

In each poem she foretells that Grigori will send her to a convent. In one she cries :

When the traitor comes to Moscow, Grisha Otrepev, the unfrocked priest.nbsp;He will make me prisoner.nbsp;And having imprisoned me he will shave off my hair,nbsp;And impose monastic vows upon me.

He will shear me, the tsarevna, and make me a nun, And enclose me in the cloister behind the grille.

I do not wish to be shorn a nun, Or to keep monastic vows.nbsp;The dark cell must be thrown opennbsp;So that I may gaze upon the fine youths.

It seems probable that these are variant versions of a single original poem, whether originally composed by Ksenya herself, or, more likely,nbsp;CL ii

by a contemporary poet, and that the variations in the passages quoted above, and in other parts of the poems, are due to the thirteen ornbsp;fourteen years of oral transmission through which they have passed.

The other Laments of royal ladies referred to above also possess certain features in common with one another and with those of Ksenya.nbsp;Like Ksenya, the wife of Ivan the Terrible addresses the house she isnbsp;about to leave:

May we assume from this that such apostrophes were commonplaces of farewell laments.� We have little doubt that the apostrophe is a staticnbsp;poetic formula commonly introduced in poems composed for similarnbsp;situations. It constitutes, in fact, one of the static formulae, likenbsp;tesserae of a mosaic, to which we have already referred (p. 72 above),nbsp;the parties mobiles^ as Prof. Mazon aptly styles such formulae, of whichnbsp;the byliny are in a large measure composed.

Finally we may point out the common features between the Lament of the wife of the unidentified Prince Vasili on the one hand and thenbsp;Laments of the wives of Ivan the Terrible and of Peter the Great on thenbsp;other. In their general outline and style these Laments differ widelynbsp;from one another. Yet the static formulae and identical motifs introduced into all these poems suggest that there was a traditional formnbsp;associated with poetry composed on such themes, and that this traditionalnbsp;form was never wholly lost sight of. We may point to the reference to thenbsp;cell with its three aspects mentioned in the Lament of the wife of Princenbsp;Vasili, and in that of the wife of Peter the Great. The former lady isnbsp;represented as saying to the abbess on her arrival at the nunnery:

O reverend abbess. Shave me as a nun.nbsp;Build me a little cell.nbsp;Pierce three windows:nbsp;The first windownbsp;To look towards the Blessed Annunciation,^

* A reference to the old gridnya or audience chamber in the Kremlin, known as the Granovitaya Pctlata, i.e. the �faceted� or �rusticated hall� or �chamber�, on account ofnbsp;the facets into which the outer face of the stone was cut�the process known tonbsp;architects as � rustication ��on the fa�ade facing the Cathedral Square. The hall wasnbsp;built towards the close of the fifteenth century, and is still standing.

The second window to look Over my native land,nbsp;And the third windownbsp;Over the blue sea.

And Peter the Great is represented as addressing his wife thus: Go and get shorn as a nun, you who are not dear to me,nbsp;Go and take the habit, you whom I abhor!

More striking than such common formulae, and more interesting for the history of oral transmission is the sequence of actual motifs in thenbsp;Lament of the wife of Prince Vasili and in that of the wife of Ivan thenbsp;Terrible. In both poems the lady is represented as instructing hernbsp;attendants to drive her on her journey. In both her arrival at the convent is noted, and her reception by the reverend mother superior. Thenbsp;words spoken on her first arrival at the convent are almost identical innbsp;both poems. In the first the speaker is a young nun:

It is not for an hour that I have come to visit you. It is not for one dark night that I have come to lodge,nbsp;I have come to you to remain for ever.

Again it is difficult to doubt that these Laments, like the Laments of the troops for the dead tsars, are following a poetical tradition derivednbsp;ultimately from some prototype of which all record has vanished.

There is good reason for supposing oral narrative prose to have been much cultivated in Russia in early times. In this connectionnbsp;it is interesting to observe the large number of technical termsnbsp;denoting different Idnds of oral prose narratives (sagas) which arenbsp;current today, e.g. ska:^a^ ska^anie, pov�st, slovo^ pobyvalshchina^ etc.nbsp;In the great collections of oral literature from which our examples arenbsp;mostly drawn, and to which reference has already been made, the sagasnbsp;are for the most part unclassified and undated, at any rate in the modemnbsp;editions which have been accessible to us. There is an unfortunate lacknbsp;of specific information as to the period and the sources from which thenbsp;collectors obtained them. � Old manuscripts �, or � Government of-----�

is frequently the only indication given as to their source. In both these respects we are in a much poorer position to offer a scientific classificationnbsp;of the sagas than of the poetry.

In our own day, although the ska^ki, or �folk-tales� are extremely numerous and widespread, the longer and more ambitious sagas appearnbsp;to be comparatively rare and confined to a limited area. Examples havenbsp;been obtained from north Russia from the same area as the lyliny, andnbsp;we have reason to suspect that they are not wholly restricted to thisnbsp;area; but our evidence is scanty and defective. It is greatly to be doubtednbsp;whether the same amount of interest has ever been devoted to thenbsp;collecting of prose stories in Russia as to the recording of byliny. Largenbsp;collections of the former are comparatively few, and of these the Ska^kinbsp;of Afanasev are the only collection which has been available to us.nbsp;Fortunately, however, this collection is very varied. It contains, innbsp;addition to the ska^kiy a number of examples of more ambitious sagas.nbsp;It is to these examples, and to a few contained in Rybnikov�s collection,nbsp;and some other individual examples cited in critical works, that we arenbsp;chiefly indebted for such slight knowledge as we possess of the naturenbsp;of modern oral saga in Russia, while a certain amount of informationnbsp;relating to earlier times is available in the Russian Chronicles and othernbsp;written sources. It need hardly be added, therefore, that these remarksnbsp;are intended to be merely suggestive, and that anything in the naturenbsp;of exhaustive treatment is out of the question.

The subjects treated in Russian prose sagas extend over a long period of time. The sagas themselves vary greatly in length, but we have notnbsp;observed that this variation bears any relation to the subjects treated.nbsp;Historical narratives, such as those telling of the voyage of Peter thenbsp;Great to Sweden, may be quite brief, whereas others dealing withnbsp;trivial occurrences to unknown people may occupy many pages. Wenbsp;find sagas representing very varied stages of artistic development, fromnbsp;the brief anecdote, related sometimes in summary form, sometimes withnbsp;picturesque detail and carefully elaborated �point�, to the long andnbsp;elaborate saga with numerous characters, minutely reported speeches,nbsp;and embroidered style.

There exists in Russia a form of traditional oral prose narrative for which we know of no exact parallel elsewhere. This form of saga isnbsp;known as a pobyvalshchina (pl. pobyvalshchiny'). It is believed to benbsp;derived from the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, of which it is a broken downnbsp;relic.� Nevertheless the pobyvalshchiny are the most elaborate Russiannbsp;sagas which we possess, and frequently extend over several pages. Theirnbsp;scope, in fact, corresponds to that of the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, andnbsp;varies similarly. Sagas of this type resemble in many respects thenbsp;rhythmical �poetical� prose of early Polynesian sagas, though there isnbsp;no evidence, so far as we are aware, that the latter is derived from metrical form. The pobyvalshchiny on the other hand are reminiscent in anbsp;remarkable degree of their poetical origin.

This is evident in their style, their subject-matter, and the milieu in which they are found today. Although the metre has disappeared fornbsp;the most part, the pobyvalshchiny frequently fall into a form of rhythmicalnbsp;prose which suggests the fluid metres of the byliny, and their poeticalnbsp;origin can even be traced, and occasionally reconstituted, where thenbsp;conservative phraseology has preserved whole lines intact from thenbsp;poetical original, the phrase length in the prose version correspondingnbsp;approximately to the line length of the byliny. In such cases alliterationnbsp;is frequently preserved. The elaborate and artificial style is also identicalnbsp;with the style of the byliny of the Kiev Cycle. The epic diction, the staticnbsp;formulae, the repetitions, the entire conduct of the narrative, corresponds exactly with the latter. Moreover the subjects treated are thenbsp;same as the subjects of the Kiev Cycle of byliny, though the proper namesnbsp;have at times disappeared. The pobyvalshchiny have been obtained fornbsp;the most part from the same districts, the same milieu, and often thenbsp;same reciters as the byliny themselves.

The pobyvalshchiny vary considerably, however, in regard to traditional verbal exactitude. That is to say, some have preserved more closely than others their relationship to the poetical original from whichnbsp;they are directly or indirectly derived. Among the best examples wenbsp;may mention those which relate to Ilya of Murom. A fine pobyvalshchinanbsp;is given by Afanasev� which relates the hero�s journey from his nativenbsp;village of Karachoro to Kiev by way of Chernigov, and the slaying ofnbsp;Solovey Razboinik. The most complete version is derived from a chapbook, buta variant is also given from an eighteenth-century MS.,� whilenbsp;other prose stories relating to the same hero are said to occur in MSS.nbsp;dating from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.3

It is interesting to compare the pobyvalshchina on the �Healing of Ilya of Murom �, recorded by Rybnikov'^ from the kal�ki, and the variant of thenbsp;same story given by Sakharov,^ with the bylina to which they are closelynbsp;related, and which was recorded from Simbirsk, and published bynbsp;Kireevski.^ The correspondence between the poetical and the prosenbsp;versions is especially close in the early part of the bylina. The latternbsp;appears to have been paraphrased so closely, line by line, that it isnbsp;difficult to believe that the resultant �prose� version is due to lapse ofnbsp;memory. 7 The diction and phrases are frequently identical; the samenbsp;repetitions and inversions are reproduced ; nothing but sustained rhythmnbsp;is required to transform our pobyvalshchina into a bylina.

A similarly close relationship is observable between the pobyvalshchina of �Alyosha Popovich and the Slaying of Tugarin� and the bylina recorded by Kirsha Danilov (cf. p. 38 above) which narrates thenbsp;same exploit. The pobyvalshchina was recorded from Shenkursk in thenbsp;former Government of Archangel, and published by Afanasev.� A translation is given by Magnus.9 The proportions and alternations of thenbsp;speeches and narratives contained in the pobyvalshchina are identicalnbsp;with those of the bylina, and the relative length and proportions of thenbsp;whole correspond closely.

A number of briefer pobyvalshchiny relate to byliny^ci�. stories of other cycles. In relation to the hero Svyatogor, as we have seen, the pobyval-

� II. p. 246. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ih. p. 248.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Miller, Ocherki, ill. p. 91.

* II. p. 581. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Printed in Afanasev, ii. p. 249.

7 The subject seems to be a rare one. In general we do not cite specific references to the precise version of a bylina on which a pobyvalshchina is based, since suchnbsp;references would manifestly be misleading where the original is an oral version ofnbsp;no fixed verbal tradition.

167 shchiny actually preponderate over the by liny and the relationship of thenbsp;former to the latter is illustrated in an interesting manner by such versionsnbsp;as that of the elder Ryabinin/ in which the opening and concludingnbsp;portions are of prose, while twenty-three lines of poetry of the ordinarynbsp;form of bylina intervene. In the story of Samson, which was recordednbsp;by Rybnikov from the same reciter,^ and which incorporates stories ofnbsp;Svyatogor, we again have prose passages introduced into the midst ofnbsp;the bylina. On the other hand Leonty Bogdanov, from whom we havenbsp;two valuable complete pobyvalshchiny^ recited no other prose apartnbsp;from these, but only byliny.

Not infrequently we find a type intervening between the bylina and the pobyvalshchina. We may refer to the bylina of Dyuk recited bynbsp;Latyshev to Rybnikov,'^ which contains brief passages in prose. Rybni-kov�s collection also contains a recitation of Permian provenance^nbsp;relating to Ermak Timofeevich (cf. p. 59 above), of which the firstnbsp;half consists wholly of prose, the second half of poetry. In a note to thenbsp;conclusion of the prose portion we are told that although the rest of thenbsp;story was �sung�, the reciter frequently forgot the words of his poem.nbsp;Here, as elsewhere, the relationship between the pobyvalshchiny and thenbsp;byliny is clearly demonstrated.

Perhaps we may include among the pobyvalshchiny brief stories based directly on byliny, and closely following them in style and phraseology,nbsp;though in a somewhat summary form. As an example we may refer tonbsp;the brief saga of Vasili Buslaev published by Afanasev.^ This little story,nbsp;which closely follows some versions of the bylina which we actuallynbsp;possess on the same hero, is nevertheless so much condensed as to havenbsp;lost many of their incidents and episodes, though the turn of phraseologynbsp;remains. It will be remembered, moreover, that the bylina of Vasilinbsp;Buslaev is itself simpler and more direct in style than those of the Kievnbsp;Cycle.

There are other pobyvalshchiny which differ much more widely from the type described above. The milieu may be heroic, and the style andnbsp;diction of the byliny may still be preserved in part. But along with thisnbsp;we find more or less numerous elements derived from folk-tales�bothnbsp;formal elements and motifs. Nameless characters are introduced ; indeednbsp;the principal character sometimes has no name. As an example of anbsp;pobyvalshchina of this type we give a brief account of the Dvoryanin

� Rybnikov, I. p. 8. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� lb. p. 4 f.

i Ib. p. 318 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;*11. p. 641.

5 II. p. 719. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;n. p. 256 f.

Bei^schastny Molodets^ � The Unfortunate Young Courtier�, of which the fullest version known to us is contained in Rybnikov�s collection.�'

The story tells how Vladimir sets an impossible task to a member of his dru^^hina. The youth succeeds in accomplishing the task with thenbsp;help of an old woman�a typical folk-tale motif�^whose lovely daughternbsp;he afterwards marries, and Vladimir himself bestows his blessing on thenbsp;nuptials. One day, however, the youth unwisely boasts of his wife atnbsp;the feast,whereupon a certain Fedka �the Mocker� springs up and vowsnbsp;that he has lived with her secretly for three years, and when Vladimirnbsp;insists that he shall prove his words he obtains her necklace by guile.nbsp;Her angry husband sells his wife to a foreign merchant, but she eventually makes her way back to Kiev, loaded with riches and honour,nbsp;and makes herself known to her husband. Fedka the Mocker isnbsp;punished, as is only right and proper�they cut off his head and presentnbsp;it to the lady.*

It will be seen that the story contains a variant of the theme of the bylina of Stavr, together with other equally well-known motifs fromnbsp;folk-tales. The story of Stavr and his clever wife would seem to havenbsp;been very popular, to judge from the large number of versions whichnbsp;have been recorded. The three stories published by Afanasev under thenbsp;titles of �Danilo the Unfortunate �,3 � Vasili the Tsar�s Son and Helennbsp;the Fair �,4 and � Vasilisa the Priest�s Daughter �5 appear to be variantsnbsp;of the same story.

Although none of these versions follow the bylina of Stavr as closely as thepobyvalshchina on the � Healing of Ilya of Murom � follows the bylinanbsp;on the same subject, nevertheless the poetical original is clearly traceable in the diction, phraseology, and repetitions, as well as in a certainnbsp;degree of consistency in regard to these details. In general the dictionnbsp;and phraseology differ in a marked degree from the diction, etc., of folktales. � The Unfortunate Young Courtier � in particular shows^a markednbsp;affinity with the byliny of the Kiev Cycle. The names Vladimir, Apraxya,nbsp;and, in one version, Alyosha Popovich, occur, and the scene is laid innbsp;Kiev. The mise-en-sc�ne is that of the Kiev byliny�feast, the rashnbsp;boasting, the character of the personnel. There can be no doubt thatnbsp;this pobyvalshchina was composed in a milieu in which the strongestnbsp;literary tradition was that of the byliny of Vladimir�s court at Kiev.

A much fuller account of this story�in fact an abridged translation�is given by Rambaud, p. ny ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 ii. p. 259 ff.

Ib. p. 261 if. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Ib. p. 269 if.

On the other hand, certain features of the story as we have it in one version and another point to the breakdown of the purely heroicnbsp;traditional form, and the encroachment of folk-tale elements�a breakdown and an encroachment which are also traceable in many of thenbsp;by liny and are not confined to the prose versions. We may point to thenbsp;fact that in no instance in the prose versions is the hero�s full name given.nbsp;He is called variously �the unfortunate young courtier�, �Danilo the unfortunate�, �Vasili the Tsar�s son�, etc. In one version, the name of thenbsp;mischievous person who brings about the catastrophe is given asnbsp;Alyosha Popovich.� In Rybnikov�s version he has become simplynbsp;Fedka the Mocker, which is really no more specific than the name of thenbsp;hero himself.

Folk-tale elements are also encroaching on the incidents of the narrative. The task which Vladimir assigns to the Unfortunate Young Courtier, and the impossibly short time in which it is to be accomplished,nbsp;are common motifs in folk-tale. Characteristic of folk-tale also are thenbsp;description of the old woman and the maiden, and the part which theynbsp;play in the story; and it is precisely in these respects that the variantnbsp;versions of the story offer the most marked divergences. At times thenbsp;formulae common to folk-tale appear in the midst of those characteristicnbsp;of the byliny, striking a strangely alien note. This is especially arrestingnbsp;in�Vasili the Tsar�s Son�. We may refer, e.g. to such phrases as: �Theynbsp;went a long way, and whether it was long, whether it was short, whethernbsp;it was high, whether it was low, they came� etc.; and the openingnbsp;phrase: �In a certain kingdom, in a certain government, there lived,nbsp;there was �, etc. The variant versions of the pobyvalshchina of � Thenbsp;Unfortunate Young Courtier � are thus of special interest as enabling usnbsp;to trace stage by stage the transition from the style of the bylina to thatnbsp;of the folk-tale.

Other pobyvalshchiny in the collection of Afanasev show the characteristic features of the heroic tradition interspersed with folk-tales. The story of Baidak Borisevich, recorded from the Province of Novgorod,�nbsp;follows very closely the framework and style of a bylina of the Kievnbsp;Cycle, from which many of its motifs are manifestly derived. The storynbsp;opens at the court of the royal city of Kiev, where Prince Vladimir isnbsp;giving a �noble feast�. He commissions Baidak Borisevich to go andnbsp;insult the Turkish sultan, and bring away his horse with a golden mane.nbsp;The opening theme thus resembles the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk andnbsp;Vasili Kazimirov. Baidak arrives at the dwelling of the sultan by night,nbsp;* In �Vasili the Tsar�s Son�.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Afanasev, n. p. 265.

and cuts down a number of trees in the garden, and pitches his tent in the clearing. In the morning, very early, the Turkish sultan awakes. At oncenbsp;he looks out on to his beloved garden, and no sooner has he lookednbsp;than he sees that all the trees have been cut down, completely cleared, andnbsp;thirty white tents now stand in his garden in their place.

The whole incident and what follows closely resembles the well-known motif in the bylina of Solovey Budimirovich, while the latter part of the story bears a close resemblance to other byliny, notably thatnbsp;of Stavr. The closing scene in which Baidak Borisevich blows his hornnbsp;to such effect that the Turkish sultan and all his followers become spellbound recalls several episodes in the byliny^ such as that in which Soloveynbsp;Razboinik whistles with his full power, against the express command ofnbsp;Ilya of Murom.

As an example of a saga which is obviously closely related to a bylina of the Kiev Cycle, though it has lost both the proper names and thenbsp;diction characteristic of heroic poetry, we may refer to the story ofnbsp;Nikita Kozhimyaka, �Nikita the Courier�, recorded from the Government of Tambov in the upper valley of the Don.^ This story is nothingnbsp;more or less than a variant of the bylina of Dobrynya and the serpent ornbsp;dragon of the mountain. It relates to a serpent who dwells in thenbsp;neighbourhood of Kiev and carries off and devours young maidens. Atnbsp;last he carries off the tsar�s daughter, but owing to her beauty henbsp;marries her instead of eating her, and when he goes on his depredationsnbsp;he leaves her shut up in his cavern. But the maiden wntes a letter, andnbsp;ties it to the tail of her dog, and sends it to the tsar in Kiev. The tsar sendsnbsp;back a letter by the same messenger, bidding her find out who isnbsp;stronger than the serpent. The maiden discovers that Nikita the Couriernbsp;is stronger. Nikita succeeds in overpowering his enemy; but the serpent, like Dobrynya�s adversary, is wily. He begs for mercy, pointingnbsp;out that he and Nikita are the two strongest beings in the world, andnbsp;ought to divide the land between them. Nikita consents, and a dyke isnbsp;made from Kiev to the Caspian; but Nikita insists on continuing thenbsp;division through the water, and in the midst of the sea Nikita dispatchesnbsp;his foe. The story concludes with an interesting piece of local antiquariannbsp;speculation, telling that the dyke is still to be seen, and is twonbsp;high. Agriculture is carried on on both sides of it, but the dyke itself isnbsp;left untouched, �and those who do not know who built it call it anbsp;vallum�.

A saga is recorded from Olonets which relates to Ivan the Terrible/ and which tells �How Treason came to be introduced into Holynbsp;Russia�. The story is, therefore, ostensibly another antiquarian tradition,nbsp;though its theme has affinities with folk-tales, as is not rare in stories ofnbsp;antiquarian form. On the other hand the formulae common to folktales are absent from our text, and the editor (Barsov)� is of the opinionnbsp;that its true affinities are with the stariny', and that the text as we have itnbsp;has been considerably �edited�. If Barsov is right, the true form of thenbsp;story is that of a pobyvalshchina. The abridged translation of the textnbsp;given by Rambaud will give the reader a fair idea of the style of thenbsp;original.3

The story relates that the subject kings refuse to pay tribute to the tsar, Ivan the Terrible, and threaten to dethrone him unless he succeedsnbsp;in solving three riddles. An old man whom the tsar meets building anbsp;church offers to solve the riddles if he is rewarded by a cask of gold.nbsp;The answers given, the tsar saves his throne, but deceives the old mannbsp;in the matter of the gold. The old man, who is God Himself in disguise,nbsp;informs the tsar that by his deception treason has been introduced intonbsp;Russia for all time.

A large number of early oral prose sagas were incorporated into the Russian medieval and early modem chronicles, and written in othernbsp;MSS., especially such as contain material relating to early Russiannbsp;history. These sagas are generally referred to under the names of slovanbsp;(earlier slovesy, sing, slovo}^ pov�sti (sing, pov�st), and ska^^an�a (sing.nbsp;slwymii). The two former are more generally applied to events andnbsp;traditions belonging to the south, the latter to the north. This divisionnbsp;is, however, by no means universal. A more fundamental distinction isnbsp;the all-important fact that the slovo and the pov�st represent the traditional form of oral saga in medieval Russia, the ska^anie represents whatnbsp;appears to be a later stage in the history of saga. That is to say itnbsp;represents a critical and synthetic use of oral material, generally by annbsp;educated person. The style of the sks^ctnie is therefore naturally morenbsp;closely akin to that of western Europe than that of the slovo or thenbsp;pov�st, being modelled on the literary style, and more especially the diction, of the best medieval historical writings.

The ska^an�a are found chiefly in written sources, and we know of no evidence for the recitation of really good examples of ska^an�a innbsp;� Rybnikov, ii. p. 715.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� ib- loc. cit. footnote i.

modern times which have not been derived more or less directly from books or MSS. Yet the connection with oral saga is very close. Thenbsp;ska'ianie on Alexander Nevski, prince of Novgorod (1263), is known tonbsp;have been composed by a contemporary who was on intimate termsnbsp;with Alexander himself. Indeed Alexander is said to have himselfnbsp;related the narrative of the battle on the Neva to the author.� Miller hasnbsp;shown that the ska^an�a of the heroes of Kiev contained in the chroniclesnbsp;are derived from oral tradition, possibly, as he suggests, from thenbsp;panegyric poetry preserved by the dru:^hiny or personal followers ofnbsp;the princes.� An example of a ska^anie of this kind is that of Alexandernbsp;Popovich, preserved in the Chronicle of Pskov already referred to.nbsp;Elaborate ska^an�a were also composed on Prince D ornant of Pskovnbsp;(cf. p. 116 above), and on the invasion of the Tatar khan Batu, on thenbsp;sack of Ryazan, and the tragic fate of its royal house,3 and indeed on anbsp;host of other subjects. Ska^cmya on the northern princes are especiallynbsp;numerous.

The ska^an�a are of great interest for the history of oral literature, and the fact that they have come to us in written form detracts from theirnbsp;value no more than it does in the case of the Icelandic sagas. Indeed innbsp;their fullness of description and detailed portrayal of events, as also innbsp;their simplicity and directness, they resemble the saga style of Icelandnbsp;closely, though the ska^anya never developed the study of personalitynbsp;such as we find in the � Sagas of Icelanders. � They give us the � official�nbsp;record of personal and political events as opposed to the �domestic�nbsp;record of the Icelanders. It is interesting to find this native Russian saganbsp;style combined in the Russian chronicles with the annalistic form derivednbsp;ultimately from Eusebius. As an example of the ska^anie style we give anbsp;translation of a part of the story of the � Foundation of Moscow andnbsp;the death of the mighty prince Daniel Alexandrovich �, which relatesnbsp;the murder of Tsar Daniel at the instigation of his faithless wife, and thenbsp;foundation of the city of Moscow on the site of the fortified village innbsp;which his brother Andrey Alexandrovich, Grand Prince of Suzdal,nbsp;avenged his death. The story has come down to us in two versions. Thenbsp;first is contained in the manuscript of the Chronicle of Novgorodnbsp;belonging to the Olonets Seminar.'^ The second is written in a late

� Solovev, col. 1315. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ocherki, in. p. 55, and passim.

3 Solovev, col. 1318. With this ska^anie from the Moscow Chronicle we may compare the variant ska:[anie of the destruction of Ryazan and Vladimir, given in thenbsp;Chronicle of Novgorod, s.a. 1238.

173 seventeenth- or early eighteenth-century hand in another MS. of thenbsp;same Chronicle.^ Both texts were probably first written down beforenbsp;the close of the medieval period. We translate an extract (abridged)nbsp;from the first of these versions :

�Prince Daniel galloped.. .on his horse into the depth of the forest; and he fled. . .along the River Oka, abandoning his horse.. .And henbsp;was obliged to make for a ferry, but he had nothing with which to paynbsp;for his crossing except a gold ring on his hand, and this ring he gave tonbsp;the ferryman.... The ferryman came across close to the bank from thenbsp;far side of the River Oka, and when he was opposite to Prince Daniel henbsp;reached out his oar to the prince and said : � Put the ring on the oar, andnbsp;then I will take you across.� And Prince Daniel, believing him to be annbsp;honest man, and not suspecting that he was lying, placed his gold ringnbsp;on the oar, whereupon the ferryman took the ring on the oar from thenbsp;prince, and drew away from the bank. And Prince Daniel fled along thenbsp;river, fearing his pursuers ; and the day drew towards evening, and henbsp;had nowhere to shelter, having reached a desolate spot in a woodednbsp;ravine. And... he found... a grave of some dead man, and the princenbsp;rejoiced at this pit and hid in it, forgetting his fear of the dead, andnbsp;slept through the dark night till dawn.

The sons of the boyar Stepan Ivanovich Kuchka� fell into lamentation and grief and mighty sorrow that Prince Daniel had escaped alive out ofnbsp;their hands, although wounded, and they began to repent, saying tonbsp;themselves :

�It would have been better for us if we had not plotted this deed of death on the prince, since he has escaped from us wounded into Vladimirnbsp;to his brother Andrey Alexandrovich ; and we shall get cruel punishments and death, many and cruel at their hands, and Queen Ulita willnbsp;be hanged. ...�

And those wicked assassins.. . took the dog, and set out to the place where they hoped to slay the prince; and from that spot they sent thenbsp;dog ahead of them. And the dog ran on in front, and they followed himnbsp;quickly, and the dog ran along the bank of the River Oka, and came tonbsp;the pit where Prince Daniel lay hidden. When the dog caught sight ofnbsp;Prince Daniel, he began to rejoice over him, leaping on to his neck andnbsp;wagging his tail; and his pursuers caught sight of the dog rejoicing overnbsp;* Rybnikov, iii. p. 244 ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;I.e. Prince Daniel�s pursuers.

him and wagging his tail, and they leapt forward and discovered the pit, and found there Prince Daniel Alexandrovich, and slew him at once,nbsp;piercing him through the ribs with their swords and spears. And theynbsp;cut off his head, and put his body back into the pit, and buried it.��

The style of the slovo and the pov�st, unlike that of the ska^anie, is essentially a spoken style, and for its proper appreciation requires to benbsp;addressed to an audience rather than to be read in a study. It is rhetorical, highly figurative, and poetical in diction, closely resembling thenbsp;written medieval Slovo 0 Polky Igor eve and the Zadonshchina. Indeednbsp;one is often tempted to wonder in reading a pov�st on some subjectnbsp;connected with medieval Russian history whether it is not in reality anbsp;paraphrase of some lost medieval form of bylina�a sober paraphrasenbsp;with the poetic diction retained, but with the repetitions omitted andnbsp;the speeches curtailed. The pov�sti and slova which have formed thenbsp;basis of many of the written skagan�a can often be traced in the stylenbsp;of the latter, especially skargin�a having reference to persons of earlynbsp;times, such as the heroes of the Kiev Cycle.

A great body of sagas composed in this highly elaborate form of poetical prose refers to the Tatar invasion of the thirteenth century, andnbsp;to the relations of the Russians and the Tatars in the following centuries.nbsp;Again most of our information comes from written sources. There is,nbsp;however, a finepov�st on the Battle of Kulikovo which has been recordednbsp;from oral recitation in modern times from Shenkursk in the Government of Archangel.� According to Afanasev this pov�st has made use,nbsp;as one of its sources, of a famous skaianie of the battle with Mamai�,3nbsp;which he says was well known to the people both from old MSS. andnbsp;from paper editions. The saga is nevertheless worth quoting as it givesnbsp;us an admirable idea of this style of Russian narrative prose at its best.

The Battle of Kulikovo, which was fought in 1380, is famous throughout Russian history as the first serious reverse suffered by the Tatars at the hands of the Russians, under the leadership of Dimitri of thenbsp;Don, Prince of Moscow, of whom we shall have more to say in a laternbsp;chapter. The Shenkursk pov�st relates how the Russian envoy, Zacharynbsp;Tutrin, goes to the court of Mamai the Tatar khan, on behalf of Dimitri,nbsp;Prince of Moscow, and there bids him defiance. He leaves the Tatarnbsp;camp, pursued by Mamai�s emissaries, most of whom he slays, and henbsp;sends a message to Prince Dimitri, bidding him prepare for battle withnbsp;the Tatars. The second part of the story tells how Dimitri collects hisnbsp;� Rybnikov, iii. p. 245 ff.nbsp;� Afanasev, ii. p. 272.

175 forces and marches to meet the Tatars on the Plain of Kulikovo in thenbsp;neighbourhood of the Don. He and the envoy, and other Russiannbsp;generals, then make arrangements as to the disposition of the forcesnbsp;and the order of attack. They meet the Tatars in fierce battle, whichnbsp;ends in a brilliant victory for the Russians, though their losses are heavy,nbsp;and Dimitri himself is severely wounded. The narrative gives no hintnbsp;that other states besides Moscow are engaged, though the names of fivenbsp;other leaders are mentioned.

�The Russian envoy, Zachary Tutrin, understood his work thoroughly. He caught twelve bright falcons and thirteen white gerfalcons. First of all he tore up the yarlik of the pagan Mamai, and wrotenbsp;on his writing paper. Having written, he secured it to a bird�s tail andnbsp;said: �Bright falcons and white gerfalcons! Fly away to Prince Dimitrinbsp;Ivanovich in stone-built Moscow, and tell the Zadonski Prince Dimitrinbsp;Ivanovich to collect a vast army from city and village and distant hamlet.nbsp;Leave at home only the blind and halt, and young ungrown children tonbsp;take care of them. And tell him that I am going to my own country tonbsp;collect the hairy, bearded Cossacks of the Don.�

At dawn, at sunrise, clouds spread over the clear sky, bringing in their train rapid, fine showers, with raging whirlwinds. In the roar, in thenbsp;thunder, nothing could be heard except the resounding voice from thenbsp;royal dwelling.� The Zadonski Prince Dimitri Ivanovich was ordering anbsp;proclamation to be made throughout the whole of white-stone Moscow:

� Gather yourselves together, all princes, and boyars, and valiant men, mighty heroes and all bold women warriors,� to the prince in the hallnbsp;of the bright dwelling.�

All the princes and boyars, the valiant men, the mighty heroes and all bold women warriors gathered together from all parts of white-stonenbsp;Moscow to the prince in the hall of the bright dwelling, to hear hisnbsp;prudent words, and most of all to gaze upon his bright eyes. Like anbsp;stout oak among slender jumper bushes, its summit mingling with thenbsp;clouds, so stood out the mighty prince among his princes and boyars.nbsp;It is not a golden trumpet resounding, it is the Zadonski prince Dimitrinbsp;Ivanovich who has begun to make a speech:

� The word is terem, lit. the attic, or upper part of a dwelling. In the byliny and the traditional prose compositions the word is regularly used of a dwelling, including a royal dwelling.

� Polenitsy udal�a. The polenitsy are the warrior-women frequently referred to in the byliny of the Kiev Cycle (cf. p. 37 above).

banquet, nor for a joyful feast are you assembled before me. It is on account of mournful tidings that you are assembled before me: Mamainbsp;the Godless, the stinking dog, with all his heathen hordes is coming tonbsp;make war on holy Russia. It will be a bitter cup that we shall get tonbsp;drink from Mamai, the dog. Let us go, my beloved warriors, to thenbsp;great sea, let us prepare our light barks and then let us hasten from thenbsp;ocean-sea into the Khvalinsk Sea to the Solovetsk wonder-worker:nbsp;there we will surround him, and nothing will Mamai the Godless, thenbsp;stinking dog, get from us; otherwise he will take us prisoners, put outnbsp;our eyes, and inflict an evil death upon us.��

� Zadonski Prince, Dimitri Ivanovich ! One sun rolls across the sky� one prince rules over orthodox Russia. We have not come to gainsaynbsp;your mighty word; with your good will we will keep our compactnbsp;when we have to settle accounts with Mamai the Godless, the stinkingnbsp;dog. Zadonski Prince, Dimitri Ivanovich! We will go to the great sea,nbsp;we will hew light craft, we will launch what we cut down in the great sea,nbsp;we will collect a mighty armed force, and we will fight with Mamai thenbsp;Godless, the stinking dog, to the last drop of blood�and we shallnbsp;triumph over Mamai the Godless.� What is that noise What is thatnbsp;thunder rolling through the hall? It is the Zadonski Prince, Dimitrinbsp;Ivanovich speaking.... The Zadonski Prince, Dimitri Ivanovich, gavenbsp;strict injunctions to collect an innumerable mighty force reckoning anbsp;city with its suburbs, a village with its estates, and all the distant hamlets,nbsp;but that they should leave the blind and the halt, and young ungrownnbsp;children at home as defenders. From all sides of orthodox Russia theynbsp;collected a mighty force. They consolidated a force throughout whitestone Moscow. The force was apportioned by lots among Simeon Tupik,nbsp;Ivan Kvashnin, the Russian envoy Zachary Tutrin, and the sevennbsp;brothers Byelozerets. The force marched to die Field of Kulikovo.�

Oral prose sagas relating to the sixteenth century and the succeeding periods in general bear no relation to the pobyvalshchiny, or to the othernbsp;elaborate forms of saga discussed above. They appear to have begunnbsp;their existence in prose form, but of a comparatively humble kind, andnbsp;show no trace of having been derived either from poetic originals, or

� The geography is not clear. In the word �great- (lit. ocean-) sea� (fikian-more) the first element seems to be used intensively merely to denote size. The wordnbsp;Khvalinsk occurs constantly in the by liny. The Solovetsk monastery is the famousnbsp;stronghold of the Old Believers on the White Sea.

from the works of educated people. They are for the most part composed in a simpler diction and less elaborate and artificial style. Many of themnbsp;show the influence of the ska^ki or folk-tales. Indeed it may be said thatnbsp;few of the oral sagas which have come down to us relating to knownnbsp;characters are free from this influence. It is clear that they belong, innbsp;general, to the milieu of the ska^ki themselves, which have largelynbsp;moulded their diction, form, and style.

The commonest type of these sagas on historical persons is the brief summary narrative or historical anecdote similar to those found innbsp;Herodotus. Such stories are not always developed to their fullestnbsp;artistic possibilities. They deal for the most part with a single situation,nbsp;and consist of a simple story, a single strand of narrative, with a strictlynbsp;limited personnel. The speeches are few and generally brief. It isnbsp;probable that such stories have been remembered in outline only, andnbsp;that verbal tradition, if it exists, is confined to the speeches. We do notnbsp;often find in the Russian sagas of this type the clever turn of phrasenbsp;which gives �point� to the anecdotes of Herodotus, and which is to benbsp;attributed to a more sophisticated milieu than any which has existed innbsp;Russia.

A number of these short historical anecdotes have been recorded from the north. Barsov in particular has made an important collectionnbsp;dating from the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries relating tonbsp;Peter the Great.' This work unfortunately has not been accessible to us,nbsp;but Rambaud has left us an interesting account of many of the stories.^nbsp;Some of them are merely reminiscences and the briefest anecdotes, andnbsp;in these we see Peter leaping from his carriage to talk with peasants,nbsp;eating their black bread, and drinking their brandy, learning their waynbsp;of life, and taking part in the events of their lives.

Rybnikov records 3 one of these brief anecdotes from the recitation of a boatman of Pudoga in Olonets. Despite its affinities with folk-tale thenbsp;story is very characteristic both of the tsar himself, and of the kind ofnbsp;traditions which still circulate about him among the peasants of thenbsp;north. It relates how one day, as the tsar is riding alone in the forest, henbsp;meets an old peasant felling trees. The tsar greets him, and asks himnbsp;about his family and his means. The man�s answer, which is couched innbsp;the riddling diction dear to folk-tale, pleases the tsar, who complimentsnbsp;him on his wit, and asks him to guide him across the steppe, as he himself does not know the way. The peasant is induced to accompany the

R.�. p. 324. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;II. p. 368.

Stranger in return for payment. As they journey along the stranger asks his guide if he has ever seen the tsar. The peasant replies that he hasnbsp;not, and the stranger bids him look, for the tsar is on the steppe.

�Everyone will be running without cap. Only the tsar will be wearing his cap.�

When they reach the steppe the people catch sight of the tsar, and everyone takes off his cap and runs as hard as he can. But the peasant�snbsp;eyes open wide: only they two keep their caps on. And he says:

Side by side with these brief anecdotes there are also fictitious sagas in which Peter appears as a being of supernatural powers ordering thenbsp;forces of nature and the elements. One of these stories has assumed annbsp;antiquarian form, and tells how it comes about that Lake Ladoga is lessnbsp;stormy than of yore. Originally, we are told. Lake Ladoga was a calmnbsp;lake, wholly free from storms, till one day the divine wrath aroused itnbsp;against an impious race, after which it never regained its repose tillnbsp;Peter the Great ordered the waves to be beaten. From that time thenbsp;lake has been tranquil.^ This is only one of many stories in whichnbsp;Peter figures as master of the elements, and it is significant that many ofnbsp;these stories have reference to the sea�the stormy sea and lakes of thenbsp;north.

Side by side with historical and personal anecdotes and fabulous sagas such as those just referred to, we find also that Christian and hagiologicalnbsp;legends have become attached to the name of the great tsar. In one ofnbsp;these he is represented as visiting the Solovetsk monastery in the Whitenbsp;Sea, and examining the bones of the saints to see if they are genuinenbsp;relics. When he leaves the island on which the monastery is situated anbsp;tempest arises, and for eight days his ship tosses on the sea. On thenbsp;night of the ninth day he has a dream. �Tsar,� says a voice, � you havenbsp;been in the monastery of Solovetsk. Why did you not secure the reliquary of the saints with your sovereign hands?� The tsar awakes, andnbsp;relates his dream to his sailors. All at once, in the midst of his recitation,nbsp;the heavens grow bright, and they behold the Solovetsk monastery onlynbsp;three versts away. Peter lands, celebrates a liturgy in honour of thenbsp;saints, secures their reliquary with his sovereign hands, and carries thenbsp;key away with him.�

The sagas of Peter the Great clearly bear the impress of the peasant milieu in which they have been preserved. They offer a strange picturenbsp;of treatment by peasants of material eminently unsuited to uncultivatednbsp;story-tellers. Nevertheless they also bear the impress of a careful andnbsp;self-conscious art, and, full though they are of credulous and self-conscious episodes, they are nevertheless sometimes carefully workednbsp;up, couched in traditional diction, with conversations fully related, andnbsp;with the proportions of the story carefully preserved. The peasants whonbsp;narrate these sagas clearly aim at a certain standard in saga-telling, andnbsp;follow to some extent the conventions derived from sagas of a morenbsp;ancient period. At the same time they are familiar with the ska^ki, the conventions and motifs of which they naively combine with the traditionalnbsp;heroic themes and style. The result is as bizarre as some of the bylinynbsp;relating to modern times, and, from the literary point of view, on nonbsp;higher level.

It will be seen that the art of the composition of prose saga in Russia, like that of the composition of byliny, is an art in its decline. It is clearnbsp;from the pov�sti and ska^an�a incorporated in the medieval chronicles,nbsp;as well as those which have an independent existence, that oral prosenbsp;narratives which relate to early times�many of them certainly composednbsp;in early times�^are far superior as works of art to the brief anecdotesnbsp;and inconsiderable sagas which relate to the modern period. Many ofnbsp;the latter are but little removed from folk-tales. We shall see in the laternbsp;chapters that there is evidence that the art of saga-telling, no less thannbsp;that of minstrelsy, was highly appreciated in early times, and in thenbsp;sixteenth century at least was encouraged by Ivan the Terrible himself.nbsp;Saga, like poetry, flourishes best in a leisured and wealthy milieu, andnbsp;deteriorates even more rapidly than poetry in poverty and neglect.

J- jLln the first class we include stories relating to native Russian saints, as opposed to the saints of the Greek Church, who will be discussed in the chapter devoted to �Poetry relating to Scriptural Subjectsnbsp;and to the Saints of the Greek Church�. Of these native saints we havenbsp;a considerable number of stories in Russian poetry. The second classnbsp;consists of stories of prophets or wizards and other persons possessed ofnbsp;supernatural power or knowledge. To this class belongs the hero Volga;nbsp;but for reasons already given we have treated the stories relating to himnbsp;with the rest of the iyiiny. We shall see further that Egori Khrabry,nbsp;� St George the Brave �, is at least as much a shaman as a Christian saint;nbsp;but owing to the Christian milieu in which the poems relating to himnbsp;have reached us, we have postponed our discussion of him till we come tonbsp;consider the saints of the Greek Church in Chapter viii below. We havenbsp;no further examples of non-heroic poems of the second class, and wenbsp;may doubtless regard them as having been banished in early times, or sonbsp;transformed under Christian influence as to be unrecognisable. Of non-heroic stories relating to persons not included in either of these categoriesnbsp;we have a rich harvest in Russia. They relate not only to royal personsnbsp;and ecclesiastics, but also to semi-religious confraternities, such as thenbsp;kal�kipeTekho^hie. We shall confine our discussion in this chapter, therefore, to stories of Class I and Class III.

Russian oral religious poetry, of whatever kind, and whatever subjects, is known collectively as dukhovny stikh. A poem of this kindnbsp;is also known as a dukhovny stikh (plural, dukhovn�e stikh�). Dukhovnynbsp;stikh is included in the repertoires of both the kal�ki and the skat^iteli,nbsp;but is sung much more extensively by the former than the latter. Thenbsp;principal collection of poetry of this kind is contained in Bezsonov�snbsp;great corpus entitled Kal�ki Perekho^^hie (2 vols., published at Moscow innbsp;1861 and 1863); but it is by no means confined to this collection. Indeednbsp;Bezsonov�s volumes are said to contain only a small fraction of the great

l8l wealth of religious oral literature still current even today among thenbsp;Russian peasants? The �Old Believers�, the Dukhobors^ the so-callednbsp;�New Israelites�, and other backward sects are said to be especially richnbsp;in such Christian oral literature?

The most important recent account of poetry of this kind is that given by Speranski in his Russkaya Ustnaya Slovesnost^ published at Moscownbsp;in 1917.3 From a comparison of this account with the texts publishednbsp;by Bezsonov we can distinguish two different kinds of oral religiousnbsp;poetry. One of these consists of stikhi which are mainly narrative innbsp;character, and which correspond in form and diction to the byliny, thenbsp;other, of stikhi which are, in the main, not narrative, but �lyrical� innbsp;character, and which consist largely of adaptations of psalms and chantsnbsp;of the Orthodox Church. They are characterised by a rhymed strophicnbsp;form, like the narrative poetry of Little Russia, to which we have referrednbsp;above (p. 3). The former class of stikhi are believed to be of earliernbsp;origin than the latter, and while comparatively rare in the south, theynbsp;are widespread over northern Russia, like the byliny^ which they resemble.nbsp;Stikhi having the rhymed form are rare in the north, where they arenbsp;believed to be intrusive; but they are the prevailing form in central andnbsp;southern Russia, where they have developed in the full current of westernnbsp;influence. In our present study we are concerned only with the northernnbsp;or more especially native class. This class consists for the most part, asnbsp;we have said, of narrative poems which resemble the byliny in form,nbsp;metre, style and diction, and are, indeed, indistinguishable from themnbsp;save in their subject matter. They include both stories relating to nativenbsp;Russian saints, and non-heroic (Christian) poems relating to othernbsp;classes of religious persons, such as the kal�ki, ecclesiastics, and such ofnbsp;the early Russian princes as are traditionally believed to have distinguished themselves as defenders of the Christian (Orthodox) faithnbsp;against the Tatars.

The extent to which such poetry is dependent upon books varies very greatly. That of north Russia is said to be much further removednbsp;from the original �book� inspiration than that of the south, and innbsp;north Russia the themes current in oral poetry have moved furthernbsp;away from their original source. Here local conditions have introduced anbsp;large amount of local colour, and the original literary theme is transmuted and transformed under the influence of the local literary tradition.

3 Ib. p. 358 ff. A brief notice will be found also in Rambaud, R.�. p, 22^ ff.

This oral Christian literature has indeed developed for several centuries in an intellectual milieu which has largely overlapped with that of thenbsp;byliny, and which has been to some extent identical with it, byliny andnbsp;stikhi frequently forming the repertoire of the same individual. Thenbsp;relatively greater distance of the poetry of the north from book tradition, as compared with that of the south, is doubtless due in the main,nbsp;however, to the fact that the north is more conservative, and has keptnbsp;alive the more ancient forms, as the metre shows. The stikhi of thenbsp;north have, in fact, had a longer life in oral tradition, and consequentlynbsp;more protracted opportunities of modification and approximation tonbsp;oral secular types.

Those Christian poems which have preserved their original literary form more or less intact need not concern us here. They hardly belongnbsp;at this stage to the study of traditional oral poetry, even though theirnbsp;setting is of a popular character, as in the extensive series of poemsnbsp;inspired by the parable of Dives and Lazarus� �La^^art), and most of thenbsp;other stories which draw their inspiration directly from Biblical ornbsp;Apocryphal literature. The more literary stories of the saints willnbsp;similarly be excluded from the following study. We will confine ournbsp;attention to poetry composed on religious subjects which has beennbsp;so transformed by popular tradition that its original inspiration fromnbsp;Christian book learning need no longer be considered.

One of the finest examples of stikhi relating to Russian saints is the poem on the vision of Dimitri Donskoy, the hero who inflicted the firstnbsp;serious defeat on the Tatars in their military campaigns against Russia.nbsp;The famous battle in which Prince Dimitri led the Russians to victorynbsp;was fought on the plain of Kulikovo to the south of Tula in the neighbourhood of the River Don in 1378. In memory of the victory Dimitrinbsp;was known ever after as Dimitri Donskoy (� Demetrius of the Don andnbsp;has become a national saint and hero. The following poem relates to anbsp;vision which appeared to the saint on the anniversary of the battle ofnbsp;Kulikovo. The poem is composed in the form of a narrative, though itnbsp;probably relates only to a brief moment. It is a perfect short story innbsp;verse, despite the antiquarian touch in the concluding lines.

The Vigil of St Dimitri On the vigil of the Sabbath of St Dimitri,nbsp;In the holy cathedral of the Assumption,nbsp;Saint Cyprian was singing mass ;nbsp;And at this mass Prince Dimitri was present,

They are chanting the requiem over the relics of the Orthodox warriors It is the blessed Mother of God herself who waves the incense over themnbsp;And crowns descend from Heaven upon the dead.

By far the most popular of the stories of Russian saints is that which relates to the martyrdom of Boris and Gl�b, the two sons of Vladimir I,nbsp;who were murdered by their elder brother Svyatopolk. The incidentnbsp;is related in full in the Ancient Chronicle. Bezsonov� gives nonbsp;less than thirteen versions of this poem, and a comparison of thesenbsp;with the Ancient Chronicle shows that the popular singers have departednbsp;from their literary sources in several material details of the narrative.nbsp;Our version opens with an account of the division of the kingdomnbsp;by Vladimir I among his three sons, and of his death. To his eldestnbsp;Svyatopolk he bequeaths Chernigov, and to his two youngest, Borisnbsp;and Gl�b, Kiev. Svyatopolk, however, hopes to inherit the wholenbsp;of his father�s dominion, and treacherously invites his two youngnbsp;brothers to a memorial feast in honour of their dead father. The mothernbsp;of the two youths is represented as lamenting sorely when the invitationnbsp;arrives, for she suspects the plot, and beseeches her two young sons tonbsp;refuse ; but they will not listen, and set off at once. Svyatopolk meetsnbsp;them out in the open country, and a graphic picture of the scene whichnbsp;takes place is presented to us by the popular poet. Svyatopolk is fullynbsp;armed, and the two young brothers fall on their knees before him, beseeching him to spare their lives, and offering to serve him as his slavesnbsp;�an aspect of the story for which there is no warrant in the literarynbsp;source. Svyatopolk is ruthless, and having slain his brothers, he ordersnbsp;their bodies to be dragged away and thrown into the woods, where theynbsp;remain for thirty years, uncorrupted and untouched by bird or beast.nbsp;At the end of this period a white stone pillar 3 is seen stretching fromnbsp;earth to heaven. The priests and patriarchs assemble at the pillar to hearnbsp;the divine command; the blind are healed and the deaf are made to hear,nbsp;and the bodies of the two saints are interred in Kiev.

It has been mentioned above that in addition to the kal�ki, the � Old Believers � also have preserved many stikhi. Among the poems recorded

� Bezsonov, i. p. 673 ff. The saint would not, of course, have instituted his own saint�s day. But the kal�ki are perhaps not well versed in ecclesiasticalnbsp;procedure.

Bezsonov, i. p. 625 ff. An interesting notice of this and several of the poems to follow will be found in Rambaud, R.�. p. 226 ff.

3 We may compare the references to such a pillar in the byliny of Kolivan recorded by Gilferding, n. p. 665; in. p. 374.

i8� from their recitation is the single version of � Alexander Nevski � innbsp;Bezsonov�s collection? This great Novgorod prince obtained hisnbsp;epithet Nevski in memory of his victory over the Swedes on the Rivernbsp;Neva in 1240. The popular singers, however, do him too much or toonbsp;little justice in speaJdng of him as �beating and driving off the pagannbsp;Tatars�; for Alexander strenuously opposed offering battle to thenbsp;Tatars, and went in person on four several occasions on diplomaticnbsp;missions to the Tatar headquarters in his endeavours to obtain immunitynbsp;for his people. On the fourth occasion he died on the return journey.nbsp;The poem, which consists of only fifty-nine lines, represents the invasionnbsp;of the �Krimean Tatars� as a punishment sent to Russia from God fornbsp;their sins, and the immunity of Novgorod as due to the piety of itsnbsp;citizens and the fine leadership of Alexander. We may perhaps concludenbsp;from this naively partisan �tendency� that the poem originated in Novgorod. It should be added that in Bezsonov�s opinion neither this poemnbsp;nor the two which follow can be regarded as purely popular.�

Bezsonov held that the poem last discussed originated in the same milieu as the two following poems on Mikhailo and Fedor of Chernigov and Peter the Metropolitan, on the grounds of their generalnbsp;similarity. The former,3 which consists of twenty-one lines only, wasnbsp;recorded in the Government of Novgorod from the recitation of an oldnbsp;woman. It opens with an apostrophe to Russia by her people, andnbsp;dwells on the miseries which she is now suffering under the Tatars, andnbsp;appeals to one and all to repent and pray for a merciful release. Innbsp;answer to their prayers there appear in Russia two valiant men withnbsp;fiery swords, Mikhailo and Fedor of Chernigov, wearing Russiannbsp;diadems, who deliver holy Russia, and themselves depart to the Horde,nbsp;where they meet the death of martyrs. As Rambaud observed,** it isnbsp;evident that the popular singers prefer holy valour to humane prudence,nbsp;for the picture of the two princes as fiery and militant instruments ofnbsp;God is remote from the historical record, which pictures them asnbsp;making the journey of submission to the Tatar headquarters.

The stikh on Peter the Metropolitan consists of eighteen lines only, and was recorded from the recitation of an old man in the Governmentnbsp;of Ryazan. As in the case of the last two poems, Bezsonov records onlynbsp;one version of the text.5 The poem belongs to Type B. It opens withnbsp;an appeal in the second person spoken by Peter the Metropolitan of

* I. p. 669. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;See p. 699, note; and cf. p. 678, note.

3 Bezsonov, i. p. 671 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;** R-�. p. 228.

Moscow in the time of Prince Simeon Ivanovich (1340-1353). The appeal is made to the people in general to pray to the saints in order thatnbsp;the burden of the Tatar yoke under which they live may be removed.nbsp;The words of the prayer follow, and also a brief prayer by the princenbsp;himself, and the poem concludes with the statement that God hearkenednbsp;to their prayer and freed the city from the peril which overshadowed it.

It will be seen that all the saints whose stories we have been considering lived between the beginning of the eleventh and the close of the fourteenth centuries, and the majority belong to the thirteenth and fourteenth. It would seem, however, that in this respect Bezsonov�s collection is hardly representative, even making allowance for the smallnbsp;number of poems relating to native saints included in it; for accordingnbsp;to Speranski,^ the majority of native saints celebrated in stikhi belong tonbsp;the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Bezsonov clearly suspects, however, that the poems on Alexander Nevski, Mikhailo and Fedor ofnbsp;Chernigov, and Peter the Metropolitan are comparatively late in origin,nbsp;and this is certainly supported by the curious perversion of factnbsp;in the poems themselves, whereby far-seeing and prudent rulers whonbsp;sought to avoid suicidal warfare against the Tatars are represented asnbsp;belligerent and victorious crusaders. This perversion of truth would benbsp;best explained as the efforts of the citizens of Novgorod, Ryazan and ofnbsp;the ecclesiastical party in Moscow in a later age to make good some claimnbsp;to a share in the overthrow of the Tatar power. Such efforts on the partnbsp;of even the boldest singers could hardly have begun till some time hadnbsp;elapsed after the victory of Prince Dimitri Donskoy in 1378.

We have, however, one interesting stikh in Bezsonov�s collection� relating to a later period, viz. the � Solovetsk Monastery�. This stikh isnbsp;a rare, though not a unique,^ example of a pesn referring to the reign ofnbsp;the Tsar Alexis Mikhailovich (1645-1676), the father of Peter the Great.nbsp;Three versions of the stikh are given, the longest consisting of sixtynbsp;lines. These stikhi relate to the famous and protracted resistance offerednbsp;by the great Solovetsk monastery in the White Sea to the imposition ofnbsp;the corrected texts of holy Scriptures, and to other ecclesiastical reforms,nbsp;ordered by the tsar and the patriarch in 1654. This monastery was anbsp;stronghold of the �Old Believers� �Starov�ry, Staro-obryadtsy\ and was

3 For further examples we may refer to e.g. the poem on the birth of Peter the Great, Kir�evski, vni. p. i f. (translated by Chadwick, p. 256) and to the poemnbsp;entitled Zemski Sobor, Rybnikov, I. p. 218, and there are others.

187 one of the last to accept the reforms. Indeed the opposition of thenbsp;monks was not overcome till the monastery was actually stormed by thenbsp;royal troops. The stikhi give us a vivid picture of the reluctant voevodanbsp;directing his cannon against the holy monks, of the monks themselvesnbsp;gazing from the walls of the monastery as the royal troops approach,nbsp;conjecturing as to whether the visit of the troops has a pious or anbsp;hostile object, and finally of the storming of the monastery, the overthrow of the � Old Belief�, and the punishment of the obdurate monks.nbsp;We will now turn our attention to the third class of non-heroicnbsp;stories, relating to persons other than ecclesiastics or people of manticnbsp;pretensions. The poetry of this class is more interesting than that whichnbsp;we have been considering, because it is, on the whole, less dependent onnbsp;direct inspiration from books. For this class our evidence relates largelynbsp;to the kal�kiperekho^hie^ who, as has already been mentioned, are a bodynbsp;of itinerant religious singers, men and women, who travel about thenbsp;country singly, or more often in small groups, singing stikhi. Thenbsp;kal�ki are generally cripples, blind people being especially common.nbsp;Today they are generally so poor that they have earned for themselvesnbsp;the alternative and more commonly used title of nishchaya bratya, �poornbsp;brethren�; but evidence is not lacking to show that in early times theynbsp;were wealthy, and of comparatively high social status. We shall havenbsp;more to say of these religious singers later, but a few words have beennbsp;required here as introduction to the stikhi which the kal�ki sing aboutnbsp;themselves and their predecessors.

The first poem which naturally claims our attention is entitled � The Origin of the Kal�ki �. This is the best example of a purely antiquariannbsp;poem known to us in Russian oral literature. Bezsonov� gives threenbsp;versions of the stikh., the longest consisting of 134 lines. We give anbsp;translation of one of the shorter versions below:�

What the Kal�ki Perekho^hie sing of themselves. The first appearance of the Kal�ki Perekhofiiie.nbsp;Ascension. Ivan Bogoslov.

When Christ ascended to Heaven The �Poor Brethren� lamented,nbsp;The poor and the needy, the blind and the halt:nbsp;�Hearken, true Christ, Tsar of Heaven!nbsp;How shall we �Poor Ones� be fediquot;nbsp;How shall we � Poor Ones � be clothed and shod �

* Bezsonov, I. p. 1 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ih. p. i f.

I will give you a mountain of gold, I will give you a river of mead:nbsp;You shall have food and drink.nbsp;You shall be shod and clothed.�nbsp;Then Ivan Bogoslovets spoke:nbsp;�But hearken, true Christ, Tsar of Heaven!nbsp;Do not give them mountains of gold.nbsp;Do not give them rivers of mead:nbsp;The strong and the rich will take them away;nbsp;Then there will be much murder.nbsp;Then there will be much bloodshed.nbsp;Give to them your holy name:nbsp;Then your name they will repeat.nbsp;And your name they will extol.nbsp;While they themselves will have food and drink,nbsp;And they themselves will be shod and clothed.�nbsp;And Christ, the Tsar of Heaven, replied:nbsp;�Hearken, Ivan Bogoslovets,nbsp;Hearken, Ivan of the Golden Mouth!nbsp;You have uttered a true word.nbsp;You have spoken and said well;nbsp;Your mouth shall be of gold.nbsp;And your festivals shall recur from year to year.�

The best known example of a narrative poem relating primarily to the kal�ki themselves is the bylina entitled �The Forty and One Kal�ki�nbsp;{Sorok Kalik So Kalikoyu', cf. p. 113 f. above). Of this poem Bezsonovnbsp;gives three variants, one from the collection of Kirsha Danilov,^ one recorded by Rybnikov from the recitation of Ryabinin, and one from thenbsp;collection of Dal. None of them, therefore, appear to belong to thenbsp;repertoire of kal�ki or other religious singers, and this is consistent withnbsp;what we know of the poem in other collections, where it is frequentlynbsp;found among the byliny sung by the ska-(iteli of Olonets and elsewhere.nbsp;The background of the poem is the court of Kiev, and Vladimir,nbsp;Apraxya, Alyosha Popovich and other well-known persons of the Kievnbsp;Cycle play a prominent part in the story. The hero is Kasyan Mikhailovich, die head of a party of kal�ki who halt at the court of Vladimirnbsp;in the course of their pilgrimage, and there can be little doubt that anbsp;story, perhaps a folk-tale, associated at an early date with the kal�ki^nbsp;and originally independent of Kiev, has been attracted into the Greatnbsp;Cycle.

In its formal characteristics the poem is indistinguishable from a bylina', but its tone is definitely that of Christian morality rather than ofnbsp;heroic virtue, and its purpose is evidently cautionary, despite thenbsp;heroic setting. This cautionary tendency is visible not only in Kirsha�snbsp;version, which is perhaps the most persistently edifying, but also to anbsp;less extent in all the versions. We have therefore decided to treat it herenbsp;rather than in connection with the Kiev Cycle, though the personnel ofnbsp;the poem would seem to entitle it to a place in the latter.

The story� relates how forty kal�ki (earlier, kalik�) and their leader, Kasyan Mikhailovich�or, in one version,� Thomas Ivanovich�take anbsp;vow of chastity and poverty and general discipline, and set out onnbsp;pilgrimage to Jerusalem by way of Kiev. In some versions they set outnbsp;from a religious house, such as the Hermitage of Efimev, at the Monasterynbsp;of Bogolyubov,^ or the Hermitage of Danilov, �from the city of Volintsanbsp;(Volhynia), from Galich (Galicia)�, and under the auspices of the king.*nbsp;In others they are simply called bogatyri, heroes who voluntarily make anbsp;vow, and go on pilgrimage to atone for their sins. We may compare thenbsp;story of Vasili Buslaev, who, in some byliny, is represented as going onnbsp;pilgrimage to the Holy Land shortly before his death. When the kal�kinbsp;come to the country near Kiev they meet Vladimir and beg alms of him,nbsp;but he, being in the open country, refers them to his wife Apraxya whonbsp;is in Kiev.

Apraxya falls in love with their leader, Kasyan Mikhailovich, and when he repels her advances, she secretly places in his bag Vladimir�snbsp;golden bowl.5 Next day, when the kal�ki have resumed their journey,nbsp;the loss of the golden bowl is discovered, and Apraxya, out of spite,nbsp;suggests that messengers be sent to search the kal�ki. Alyosha Popovichnbsp;is first dispatched, and he rides truculently up to the kal�ki, orderingnbsp;them in abusive terms to give up the stolen cup. But Kasyan threatensnbsp;to belabour him, and Alyosha retreats discomfited. Dobrynya is thennbsp;sent, and Dobrynya, as his manner is, entreats them courteously to stopnbsp;and search their bags, lest perchance the cup has inadvertently droppednbsp;into one of them. And Kasyan, as courteous as Dobrynya himself,nbsp;orders them to pause and search. The cup is, of course, discovered in hisnbsp;own bag. Kasyan declares his innocence, and surmises that the bowl has

� Kir�evski, in. p. 84. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 /J. p. �o.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Ib. p. 8i.

5 In the version recorded by Kirsha Danilov, Alyosha Popovich makes advances to Kasyan on behalf of Apraxya, and it is he who places the bowl in Kasyan�s bag.nbsp;The bowl is of silver.

been put there by Apraxya; but he reminds the kal�ki that by the terms of their vow they have pledged themselves not to steal, and urges themnbsp;to punish him according to the manner which they had agreed on whennbsp;the vow was made. Accordingly they take leave of him with tears, andnbsp;then

They buried him in the damp earth. In the damp earth to his white breast;nbsp;His eloquent tongue they plucked out.nbsp;And his bright eyes from their sockets.nbsp;His high heart from between his shoulders;nbsp;And they have left the bold youth Kasyannbsp;In the open plain.

Then the kal�ki go on their way. But Mikula of Mozhaisk (St Nikolai) appears to Kasyan and restores him to his former health, bidding himnbsp;resume his pilgrimage. He overtakes his companions late that night andnbsp;goes to Jerusalem with them. When they come to Kiev on their returnnbsp;journey they find that Apraxya has been ill from grief ever since shenbsp;heard of the punishment which had befallen Kasyan. Then Kasyan raisesnbsp;her up and pardons her, and they all feast and make merry. The pilgrimsnbsp;depart each to his own land, and none of them ever again rides over thenbsp;open plain seeking adventures, or stains his white hands with blood;nbsp;and when young Kasyan comes to his own land he raises a Cathedralnbsp;Church to Mikula of Mozhaisk.

The non-heroic�we might almost say anti-heroic�character of this bylina is very striking. Heroic deeds are represented as matter fornbsp;repentance and expiation, and finally to be abjured. The kal�ld arenbsp;represented as faithful to their vow, even to the uttermost, and theirnbsp;suffering leader is blessed by St Nikolai himself. The princess Apraxya isnbsp;disgraced, while young Kasyan is exalted. Finally Apraxya is restored tonbsp;health, and happiness is restored in Kiev by the magnanimity and puritynbsp;of the kal�ka whom she has injured.

We know of no other narrative poems in which the kal�ki constitute the principal personnel, though they play an important r�le in many lyliny, especially those of the Kiev Cycle. Not infrequently thenbsp;turning-point in the action, which secures success for the hero, isnbsp;effected by them. More frequently the hero attains success by changingnbsp;clothes with a kal�ka, and impersonating him. Some examples of thesenbsp;motifs have already been cited (p. 97 above). Whether such motifsnbsp;originally formed an integral part in heroic stories, and at what period

I91 the kal�ki came to play so important a r�le in the byliny, is an interesting subject worthy of investigation.

Stikhi of Type D are not rare in the repertoire of the kal�ki, and consist chiefly of prayers. A little stikh of four lines consists of anbsp;prayer of the kal�ki as they sit by the road-side on pilgrimage.^

Our Father, our spiritual Father! Grant, us. Lord, good health!nbsp;Bring us, O Godnbsp;To the Troitsko-Sergi�vskaya monastery.^

The kal�ki have also a little prayer for alms 3 (ten lines) to be recited �at the threshold and under the windows�. Another stikh of this classnbsp;is a thanksgiving to be recited by the kal�ki when they have receivednbsp;alms or food

We poor brethren. We needy folk.nbsp;Must pray to God,nbsp;Must beg alms of Christ,nbsp;For food and drink;nbsp;For he gives us to eat and drink,nbsp;He gives us shoes and clothing.nbsp;And we must give glory to Christ.nbsp;Save us, and have mercy upon us,nbsp;O Christ, the Tsar of Heaven, etc.

This stikh is a more ambitious composition than the last, and consists of forty-two lines. There is also a stikh consisting of the prayer of thenbsp;church collectors (thirty-flve lines) for blessing and prosperity on thenbsp;household from which they receive a donation.5

The kal�ki also sing poems about themselves which have the form of poetry of Type E, that is to say of personal poetry, but which cannot benbsp;regarded as the expression of individual emotion or experience. Theynbsp;are, in fact, rather the expression of the feelings and ideas of a community, the product of a class rather than of any one kal�ka, although ofnbsp;course the work of individuals. As an example we may refer to a singlenbsp;poem of which Bezsonov gives two versions,^ and which is something innbsp;the nature of a manifesto of the kal�ki. It represents a kal�ka as speaking

� Or to some other place of pilgrimage (Ed.). The Troitsko-Sergi�vskaya monastery is the famous monastery situated about forty miles from Moscow. It wasnbsp;founded in 1340, and is one of the most interesting and important convents in Russia.

3 Bezsonov, i. p. 26, nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;'* Ib. p. 34 ff.

3 Ib. p. 38. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� I. p. 25 f.

in the first person, telling us that he has no estate, or home, or possessions, that he plies no trade, and serves no prince or boyar. He is merely a sinful soul, and in the two concluding lines he prays God thatnbsp;he may partake of the blessed sacrament before his death.

The history of the dukhovny stikh, or spiritual poetry, is closely bound up with that of the byliny or stariny. The two forms of dukhovny stikhnbsp;current in Russia�the rhymed strophic form of the south, and the unrhymed, non-strophic form of the north�correspond exactly with similarnbsp;forms in the secular poetry, that of the north being known as byliny,nbsp;stariny. The literary devices and conventions which they employ arenbsp;likewise identical. It is clear, therefore, that the stikhi and the starinynbsp;have been current in the same milieu from early times. There is somenbsp;slight evidence for the existence of stikhi at an earlier date than anynbsp;which we possess for the stariny, though this evidence has an importantnbsp;bearing on the latter. This subject will be considered more fully atnbsp;the close of the following chapter.

Pifc US SIAN oral literature has practically no poetry or saga relating to the gods or demons of heathen times. Such litera-ture doubtless existed in the past. Certain passages in the Slovonbsp;0 Polky Igorev� have been held to contain references to ancient Russiannbsp;deities, but a more critical view of the text is tending to reduce thenbsp;number of such passages,' and we may feel some doubt as to how farnbsp;those deities which remain are exclusively or even specifically Russian.nbsp;Moreover the literature of northern Russia�the area with which we arenbsp;primarily concerned�does not appear to possess poetry or saga relatingnbsp;primarily to spirits.^

Natural objects, especially rivers, are sometimes personified as a maiden, and speak with a human voice, as in certain versions of Sukhannbsp;Domantevich (cf. p. 140f. above) and of the �Death of Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich�. In this they resemble the river Vile who are occasionallynbsp;found in the oral literature of the Yugoslavs; but Russia has naturallynbsp;no mountain Vile corresponding to the widespread mountain Vile of thenbsp;latter. While the personifications of rivers in particular are not verynbsp;rare, they are never prominent, and so far as we are aware they nevernbsp;supply the principal motif or the framework of a poem; and, unlike thenbsp;Yugoslav, they do not appear to be used for didactic purposes.

There are two classes of supernatural beings which figure largely in Russian oral poetry. These are � dragons � and � white swans �. They nevernbsp;play the principal r�le in the poems in which they appear, and we do notnbsp;find poems in which they form the sole personnel, as supernaturalnbsp;beings sometimes do in Greek, Norse, and Irish sagas. The dragons andnbsp;�white swans� appear to be introduced rather as foils for the heroes.nbsp;The dragons are generally, though not invariably male, while the �white

* It is possible that our information may be defective on this point. Recent collections, such as that comprised in Russki Folklor by B. and Y. Sokolov, may contain some material of the kind. But it is improbable that any very important bodynbsp;of such poetry would have escaped the previous collectors.

swans� are invariably female. In the latter feature, as in many others, the � white swans � differ from the deities of other peoples and approximatenbsp;to the Vile of the Yugoslavs. They resemble the latter also in the factnbsp;that they always appear singly and do not form a community. Bothnbsp;the dragons and the �white swans� are invariably �unsympathetic�nbsp;characters, and are in all cases overcome by the hero, or forced to obeynbsp;him. In this respect they fulfil the same function as the demons andnbsp;monsters of other literatures.

The use of the term �white swan� in reference to a maiden appears to be already stereotyped when the Slovo o Polky Igoreve was composed;nbsp;but the dragon does not appear in that work. We have tried to shownbsp;elsewhere that the term �dragon� is commonly applied in modern oralnbsp;poetry to a Tatar chief, while the �white swan� appears to be in reality anbsp;foreign, more particularly a Polish, maiden. In oral poetry these beingsnbsp;are depicted sometimes as actual dragons and swans, sometimes franklynbsp;as Tatar chiefs and Polish maidens respectively, the terms �dragon� andnbsp;�white swan� being no more than forms of diction. At times, again, anbsp;transformation from the dragon and swan to their human forms is depicted as taking place in the course of the narrative. There can be nonbsp;doubt, therefore, that two forms of tradition have been current for somenbsp;time; according to one the dragon and the white swan are humannbsp;beings (foreign), while according to the other they are evil spirits. Thenbsp;conception is, in fact, a definitely heathen one. We have shown elsewhere that the �white swans� correspond to the/^ZZe of the Yugoslavs,nbsp;while we have Norse evidence for the existence of the �dragon� conception in north Russia at least as early as the first half of the twelfthnbsp;century.

As in Yugoslav, the part played in heathen literatures by the gods is filled in Russian oral literature by the Christian saints and other prominent figures in the ecclesiastical records of the Orthodox Church.nbsp;Some account of the Christian oral literature of Russia has already beennbsp;given (p. 180 �F. above). We have seen that in northern Russia poetry ofnbsp;this class shares the formal characteristics of the byliny, and represents, innbsp;general, an older type than that of the south. The former is predominantly narrative, and derives its subjects principally from Biblical andnbsp;Apocryphal literature, especially from the New Testament, from the livesnbsp;of saints and other prominent persons who figure in the annals of thenbsp;Greek Church, as well as Russian princes and ecclesiastics, and nativenbsp;Russian saints. The Christian oral poetry of the south is predominantlynbsp;of Type D, and consists largely of popular adaptations of the psalms and

POETRY RELATING TO SCRIPTURAL SUBJECTS, ETC. I95 chants of the Orthodox Church. It is, of course, with the northern classnbsp;that we are chiefly concerned here.

The stories and poems connected with these religious subjects are frequently popular in character, sometimes even familiar. We shall findnbsp;that in this respect Russian oral Christian poetry resembles that of thenbsp;Yugoslavs. On the other hand, we have not found in Russian popularnbsp;poetry the humorous element and total absence of dignity which characterise some of the Yugoslav stories to be referred to in Vol. in. Thisnbsp;may perhaps be due to the nature of our evidence. The only remains ofnbsp;Russian popular Christian literature which have been accessible to usnbsp;are, as we have said above (p. 180) contained in Bezsonov�s collectionnbsp;Kal�ki Perekho^hiamp;-, but we have seen that there is a vast store of suchnbsp;poetry still current among the Russian peasants which still awaits publication. Moreover, the collections of Russian traditional oral saga include many examples of stories exactly similar in tone to the most na�venbsp;and crude of the Yugoslav Christian narrative poems. It is quite possible,nbsp;therefore, that poetry similar in tone exists also in Russia in connectionnbsp;with the saints and other prominent figures of the Orthodox Church.

It is consistent with the somewhat more dignified tone of the Russian series that we do not find in the collection of Bezsonov examples ofnbsp;poems in which the scene is laid in Heaven, and which relate to the greatnbsp;saints of the Christian Church or to Biblical characters. Such poemsnbsp;actually exist in connection with native Russian saints, however, as we maynbsp;see from the poem on the Vigil of Dimitri Donskoy quoted above; andnbsp;from this we may again raise the question as to whether the absence fromnbsp;Bezsonov�s collection of such a mise-en-sc�ne in connection with thenbsp;saints of the Christian Church may be due to accident, or to the selectivenbsp;process of the collectors or the editor. We may refer to the Russiannbsp;Christian oral sagas, in which scenes laid in Heaven are not rare. In suchnbsp;Russian sagas, however, when the scene is laid on earth, the localitiesnbsp;are, in general, left vague, whereas in the narrative poems under discussion the localities are almost always clearly stated. It would seemnbsp;probable on the whole, therefore, that in Russia the phase of Christiannbsp;oral literature which corresponds most closely to this phase among thenbsp;Yugoslavs consists of saga rather than of poetry.

� For a general account (in Russian) of this religious poetry, and summaries of the poems referred to below, see Speranski, R.U.S. p. 358 IF. A brief chapternbsp;on the subject, containing summaries of several poems, will also be found innbsp;Rambaud, R.�. p. 370 ff.

already been said that those derived from Biblical stories retain their original features in general in such a way that, despite their popularnbsp;treatment, their source is easily recognised. These and other storiesnbsp;derived thus directly from book sources hardly come within the scopenbsp;of this chapter. Even in such stories as these, however, there is often anbsp;great difference between one variant and another in regard to thenbsp;amount of local colour and popular features introduced. We maynbsp;instance the Old Testament story of Dives and Lazarus, which has givennbsp;rise to a whole class of poems known as La^ari} The original nucleus isnbsp;always easily recognisable; but the treatment is generally highly popularnbsp;in character, and enriched with all the dramatic power and force ofnbsp;characterisation to which the situation lends itself. The unletterednbsp;reciter is fully aware of the possibilities of contrast and dialogue affordednbsp;by the situation in the parable. Accordingly we find that while thenbsp;majority of the La^aTi are composed in the form of Type A, all are richnbsp;in dialogue which occupies a large, sometimes the largest part of thenbsp;poem, while several versions, by reducing the narrative to the minimumnbsp;and increasing the dialogue, have become poems of Type B.^ The greatnbsp;vogue of this story is doubtless due to its exceptional possibilities as anbsp;vehicle for propaganda. The kal�ki depended for their subsistence onnbsp;alms, and the cautionary tendency of the story, the picture which itnbsp;presents of the rich uncharitable man brought low, and the poor andnbsp;needy in the place of glory in Heaven, offers an admirable vehicle fornbsp;begging in narrative form, and none of the possibilities of the story,nbsp;whether artistic, didactic, or utilitarian are lost on the �poor brethren�nbsp;who have made it a kind of manifesto of their order.

The stories derived from the lives of saints of the Greek Church, whether apocryphal or genuine, have sometimes retained theirnbsp;Christian character intact, and the narrative, though homely, is notnbsp;necessarily undignified. The localities are generally carefully noted,nbsp;as well as the names of the principal characters. We may refer to thenbsp;story which relates to �Alexis, the Man of God�,3 the son of a Princenbsp;Ephimian, who lived in Rome in the time of the Emperor Honorius.nbsp;The poem, of which there are many variants, tells how Alexis leaves hisnbsp;bride on the night of his marriage and sails to Odessa, changing clothesnbsp;with a kal�ka on the way, like many of the heroes of the byliny, in ordernbsp;to hide his identity. Arrived at Odessa, he enters the principal church,

� Bezsonov, i. p. 43 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� E.g. Bezsonov, i- p- 5 5 ff.

3 The version which we have summarised below will be found in Bezsonov, I. p. 98 ff.

POETRY RELATING TO SCRIPTURAL SUBJECTS, ETC. I97 where he remains as a professional beggar for many years. His parents,nbsp;who greatly mourn for him, send in search of him, but the messengersnbsp;who come to Odessa, and even to the very church, fail to recognise him.nbsp;At last Alexis receives a command from Heaven to return to Rome tonbsp;receive the blessing of his parents and convert them to the Christiannbsp;faith. When he comes to Rome his parents do not recognise him, butnbsp;since he brings them news of their son, they honour him and build himnbsp;a cell to live in, and give him attendants; but his enemies persecute him,nbsp;and, feeling his end draw near, he sends messengers to the prince askingnbsp;for writing materials. Then the saint writes an account of his lineage andnbsp;his life, and dies with the completed MS. in his hand. Th� prince and thenbsp;clergy assemble at the cell of the man of God, and the prince orders thenbsp;life of the saint to be read. It is then for the first time that the prince andnbsp;princess realise that Alexis, the man of God, was their own beloved son.

In contrast to the sober and decorous poem of � Alexis the Man of God the poem of � St Fedor Tiryanin approximates closely to the byliny, bothnbsp;in style and content. The poem opens with a message which Tsarnbsp;Constantine receives during evening prayer from the Tsar of thenbsp;Jews, threatening, in a formula common in the byl'my^ that if he willnbsp;not give up the city of Jerusalem peaceably it will be taken by force.nbsp;Tsar Constantine summons his followers and calls for a volunteer, but,nbsp;again as in the byliny, the greater hide behind the lesser, and the lessernbsp;are speechless. Then Constantine�s young son Fedor comes forward andnbsp;offers to defend the city. The tsar protests that he is too young, butnbsp;Fedor insists, and succeeds in destroying the pagan host single handed.nbsp;Then, as in the bylina of �Dobrynya and the dragon of the Mountain�,nbsp;the blood of the pagans rises to his horse�s mane, to Fedor�s silkennbsp;girdle, and threatens to engulf them; but Fedor thrusts his sharp swordnbsp;into the damp earth, opens the Gospels, and prays. His prayer, however,nbsp;is practically identical with Dobrynya�s prayer, when the blood of thenbsp;slain serpent rises in flood around him. It consists of an adjurationnbsp;formula to �damp mother earth� to open on all four sides and swallownbsp;up the blood. And the earth opens and swallows all the blood of thenbsp;Jews. Then the youth returns home. His father is watching for him, andnbsp;greets him joyously, and takes him by his white hands, by his gold rings,nbsp;and seats him at the table of oak. His horse is securely tied to a ringnbsp;attached to a pillar in the courtyard, and his master eats, and drinks, andnbsp;takes his pleasure. The second half of the bylina relates how a fiery dragon

� The version summarised below will be found in Bezsonov, i. p. 527 ff. A notice of this poem is given by Rambaud. R.f,. p. 370 f.

carries off the hero�s mother to its cavern, and how the hero rescues her and brings her safe home. This latter story bears so striking a resemblance to the story of Dobrynya�s rescue of Vladimir�s niece�or,nbsp;according to a variant, his own (Dobrynya�s) aunt�from the fierynbsp;dragon of the mountain, that it is impossible to believe that the twonbsp;accounts are independent of one another.

Unlike the last poem, that of St Dimitri of Solun approximates in subject matter rather to a ska^ka than to a bylina. It tells us^ that �Tsarnbsp;Mamai�, the Tatar general, is harassing and destroying the town ofnbsp;Salonica, and the people in terror are evacuating the city. Two angelsnbsp;appear to St Dimitri and bid him go forth and destroy the Tatar army,nbsp;and the saint gladly obeys the summons, and rides forth alone, slayingnbsp;untold numbers, and Tsar Mamai is forced to withdraw to his own land.nbsp;As he goes, however, he takes with him as prisoners two Russiannbsp;maidens�no other than the daughters of St Dimitri himself. Mamainbsp;summons the two maidens and enquires of them the name of the Russiannbsp;hero who has defeated him, and on learning that he is their own father,nbsp;St Dimitri, he commands them to embroider the likeness of the saint onnbsp;a carpet that he may dishonour and insult it. When the maidens refusenbsp;he threatens to cut off their heads from their �sturdy shoulders��anbsp;touch of heroic diction�but the maidens beseech him naively:

From our sturdy shoulders. Grant us until this evening,nbsp;And we will embroider for you on a carpetnbsp;Saint Dimitri, the miracle worker of Salonica,nbsp;We will deliver up his blessed likeness to be insulted.

The two maidens embroider the holy countenance on the carpet, weeping and praying to St Dimitri, until at last they fall asleep. Then anbsp;miracle takes place. By the command of God, and at the prayer ofnbsp;St Dimitri, a great storm arises, and transports the carpet on which thenbsp;two maidens are sleeping into the cathedral church in the town ofnbsp;Salonica. The popular singer is not content to relate this commonnbsp;incident of Oriental folk-tale in its bare outline. He gives a dramaticnbsp;picture of the astonishment of the sexton who comes to unlock thenbsp;church for matins, and finds the two girls asleep on the carpet before thenbsp;throne. The sexton hastens away from the church and goes to arouse thenbsp;priest. Finding him asleep he wakens him, and bids him rise, telling

POETRY RELATING TO SCRIPTURAL SUBJECTS, ETC. I99 him what he has seen. The priest rouses himself from sleep, washes hisnbsp;face in holy water, puts on his outdoor clothing, and goes straight to thenbsp;church, and wakens the two girls, who, unaware of their situation,nbsp;address him as �Wretch, dog, heathen Tsar Mamai�. It will be seen thatnbsp;the reciter makes the most of the dramatic possibilities of his stereotypednbsp;theme. Of course the priest at once reassures the terrified girls, and anbsp;great thanksgiving service is held in the Cathedral in honour ofnbsp;St Dimitri.

A large number of stikhi and ska^ki celebrate the glory of the most popular of all the Russian saints, St Mikula. The story of Vasili ofnbsp;Antioch,* like a large proportion of the stories relating to St Mikula,nbsp;closely resembles a ska^ka, and, in fact, introduces a theme similar tonbsp;the one just related in the stikh of St Dimitri. The poem begins by tellingnbsp;of the reverence habitually shown by Agricola of Antioch to St Mikula.nbsp;One day he sends his son Vasili into the Church of St Mikula in Antioch,nbsp;and as his son is praying in the church the Saracens fall upon the citynbsp;and carry off many prisoners, and among them Vasili himself. The outraged parents abstain from prayer and from all church services, andnbsp;refuse to show honour to St Mikula for three years. At the end of thatnbsp;time they again decide to pray to the saint for the release of their son.nbsp;At this point we are transported into the presence of the Saracen princenbsp;�in his palace of white stone�. Before him stands Vasili in Saracennbsp;costume, officiating as a slave, a flagon in one hand and a cup of gold innbsp;the other. Suddenly, by unseen and unknown means, he is transported from the palace of white stone and finds himself in his father�snbsp;courtyard. Agricola, hearing the commotion of the dogs, sends hisnbsp;servants to find out who is there. They can see no one, but when Agricolanbsp;and his wife go to look they see their dear son Vasili, in Saracen dress,nbsp;holding the flagon and the golden cup. They ask him how he has comenbsp;there, and he tells them that when he was transported from the whitenbsp;stone palace of the Saracen prince to his own courtyard he saw no onenbsp;save St Mikula himself.

Probably the most widely celebrated of all the stikhi are those which refer to Egori Khrabry, � George the Brave, or the Hero�, or St George.nbsp;A far greater proportion of space is allotted to him in Bezsonov�snbsp;collection than to any other hero. He is chiefly known from whatnbsp;appears to have been originally a single poem, of which Bezsonov givesnbsp;a large number of variants. In this poem, unlike the last two of whichnbsp;we have given an account above, the saint is himself the hero and the

principal actor. Other poems also exist relating to him, and to these we will return later. Here we will give some account of the poem whichnbsp;appears to be the most widespread, and which is generally regarded asnbsp;the chief account of the saint current in oral poetical tradition. Wenbsp;have selected the variant recorded by Bezsonov, i. p. 440 ff'. ; but thenbsp;variants are, on the whole, singularly well preserved, and offer surprisingly little variation considering their number; and many othernbsp;versions are equally or almost equally complete.

StEgori (George) is the son of the Tsar Fedor and the blessed Tsaritsa Sofya, and his home is the city of Jerusalem. He has three sisters. Atnbsp;birth his legs are of pure silver as far as the knees, his arms of pure goldnbsp;as far as the elbows, and his head is wholly of pearl. The first incidentnbsp;relates to an attack on the city by the Tsar Demyan, who destroys thenbsp;town, and slays Tsar Fedor, and carries off his son and his three daughtersnbsp;as captives into his own country. The tsar threatens his prisoners withnbsp;death unless they will accept his faith, which is naively styled as bothnbsp;Latin and Mussulman. The three maidens yield to the tyrant and abandon Christianity, but Egori holds fast to his faith. A large proportion ofnbsp;the poem is occupied with the vain efforts of Demyan to torture thenbsp;saint; but the teeth of the saws are blunted by divine agency, thenbsp;� German� axes grow dull, despite their double edges, the boots with ironnbsp;nails will not hurt him, or boiling pitch scald him, and the saint singsnbsp;hymns of praise throughout his ordeals. At last the tyrant has a deepnbsp;pit dug, into which the saint is lowered, and in which he remains fornbsp;thirty years, while the tyrant rejoices that the saint is �no longer in holynbsp;Russia,^ and cannot behold the white light, or gaze upon the red sun, ornbsp;see father, or mother, or hear the Church bell, or hear God�s word�.nbsp;And when thirty years are passed the saint beholds a vision; the brightnbsp;sun shines in his deep pit, and the blessed Virgin appears before him andnbsp;promises him the joy of Heaven as a reward for his sufferings. Then anbsp;violent storm arises, tearing up the coverings of the pit, and once morenbsp;the saint is free to wander over holy Russia. He returns to Jerusalemnbsp;where he finds his mother praying for him in church. This incident,nbsp;therefore, is not essentially different from the denouement in the last

* This passage has an important bearing on certain passages in the bylina of Svyatogor, of whom it is said that �he was not allowed in holy Russia.� The expression is generally taken to mean that he was located outside Russian territory;nbsp;but there are features in his story which suggest that he was originally regarded as anbsp;chthonic being, and that the expression �not in holy Russia� signifies, not that henbsp;lived in another territory, but that his home was underground. Ilya�s great achievement would thus be in securing him in his proper sphere, whence he had escaped.

POETRY RELATING TO SCRIPTURAL SUBJECTS, ETC. 201 two stikhi discussed above. With the reunion of the saint and his blessednbsp;mother the first part of the poem, the preparation of the saint for hisnbsp;life�s work, may be said to close.

Egori next obtains his mother�s blessing, and resolves to wander over Russia, preaching the Christian faith. In the land of Russia the dreamingnbsp;forests impede his progress; but he bids them spread apart, and wavenbsp;their branches over the land of Russia, so that he may build churchesnbsp;from their trunks, and the great forests grow strong and thick throughout the land, exactly where they are bidden. Then he rides to the swiftnbsp;rivers, but he cannot go forward. He orders the rivers to flow throughout the land of Russia, through steep, high mountains, and through thenbsp;dark, dreaming forests, and at the command of God and the prayer ofnbsp;St Egori the rivers flow in the course commanded. The mountains nextnbsp;impede his progress, forming a close, dense barrier, and Egori bidsnbsp;them stand for ever that he may build churches on their summits. Henbsp;next visits the abode of swift wolves, and here he finds his three sistersnbsp;acting as herdswomen. Their bodies have grown like the bark of fir-trees, their hair is like feather-grass. And St Egori scatters the wolves innbsp;packs and pairs and singly throughout the steppes and the dark forests.nbsp;After other similar encounters St Egori makes his way to the whitenbsp;stone palace of his former master Demyanishcha:

Tsarishcha Demyanishcha caught sight of him, Demyanishcha the Mussulman, the godless dog;nbsp;He shrieks like a wild beast.nbsp;He hisses like a serpent.

But the saint is not dismayed. He rides him down on his swift steed, and with his sharp sword he cuts offquot; his accursed head from his sturdynbsp;shoulders. Then he takes his three sisters to bathe in the Jordan, and asnbsp;they do so the coarse grass falls from them, they shed the pine bark, andnbsp;St Egori restores them to their own lady mother, Sofya the Wise :

We sing the glory of St Egori, St Egori the bright, the brave.nbsp;His glory shall stand for ever.nbsp;For ever and ever. Amen!

We have treated the stikh of Egori the Brave at some length because it is one of the most interesting and instructive of the stikhi, illustrating,nbsp;as it does, the astonishingly na�ve coalescence of Christian tradition andnbsp;heathen lore. In the first part of the stikh the saint does not differnbsp;essentially from scores of other Christian saints of whom our medievalnbsp;records have many similar stories to tell. In the second half of the poem,nbsp;however, St Egori has become a wizard of the Asiatic type, a shaman, ofnbsp;whom our nearest European prototype is the bylina hero Volga. Bothnbsp;are shown to be supreme over each individual kingdom of nature, thenbsp;chief differences being that while Volga is at once a hunter and a shapechanger, assuming the form of a member of each of the animal kingdoms in turn in order to control them, St Egori is a civilising influence,nbsp;and, while retaining his human form, directs nature, both animate andnbsp;inanimate, to be subservient to the needs of the Orthodox Church. Hisnbsp;powers are, however, far more universal than those ascribed to anynbsp;other saint known to us. It would almost seem as if, in the popularnbsp;imagination, he has assumed the attributes of deity, and adopted methodsnbsp;which are an improvement on those detailed for us in the early chaptersnbsp;of Genesis.

One of the favourite stories of the Old Testament current among the kal�ki is the story of Joseph the son of Jacob, better known to popularnbsp;tradition as Osip Prekrasny, �Joseph the Fair�. A considerable numbernbsp;of narrative poems (Type A) are current relating to him, some basednbsp;directly on the Biblical version of the story, others so far removed fromnbsp;it as to be classed by Bezsonov as � purely popular �. Independent of thesenbsp;narrative poems, a rich crop of poems of Type Bquot; are also current innbsp;connection with the same hero. Many of these are laments whichnbsp;purport to be spoken by Joseph himself.

One of these laments� is described by Bezsonov as derived directly from books. In two of the texts which he gives, the lament propernbsp;{plack') forms a kind of overture to the byl or narrative poem whichnbsp;follows, and which relates a portion of the life of Joseph. The plach isnbsp;composed wholly in the first person. It represents Joseph as lamentingnbsp;his sins and the hard fate which he has suffered at the hands of hisnbsp;brothers, and concludes with the words:

� Bezsonov, i. pp. 187 f., 191 f, nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Ib. p. 188.

POETRY RELATING TO SCRIPTURAL SUBJECTS, ETC. 203 Two Other versions of the same plach, also spoken by Joseph, are givennbsp;by Bezsonov^ independently, and he adds a note� to the effect that thenbsp;plach, in various forms, constitutes the introduction to stikhi of whichnbsp;the main subject may be emotional, spiritual, literary, didactic, etc.

Among the poems classed by Bezsonov^ as those which are purely native and popular (stikhi chisto-narodny�} are the series known as thenbsp;� Tsarevich Josaph the Hermit �. Of these Bezsonov gives a large numbernbsp;of versions. Many of them consist of a few lines of narrative telling us ofnbsp;the decision of the prince to become a hermit, and of his arrival at thenbsp;hermitage. The rest of the poem consists of a dialogue between thenbsp;prince and the hermitage, personified as a woman, in which the latternbsp;sets forth to the prince the hardships and discipline of the life eremitical.nbsp;A further series'* consists of addresses of the tsarevich to the hermitage.nbsp;Such poems also are apparently technically known asplachi (pl. � laments �).nbsp;Yet a third series^ consists of the prayers of St Joseph after he hasnbsp;entered the hermitage.

An interesting example of Christian oral poetry of Type C is the widely popular Kniga Golubinaya, �The Book of the Dove�, of whichnbsp;Bezsonov gives seventeen versions. The setting of this poem is sufficiently removed from Biblical authority to merit a place in popular oralnbsp;poetry. The poem tells us^ that during a violent storm the � Book of thenbsp;Dove� falls on the �life-giving cross�, and many tsars and princesnbsp;assemble at the spot to learn its contents. The chief initiative is t�ien bynbsp;the Tsar Vladimir (Volodymir, Volodemir, Volodimir, Volotomon,nbsp;Volontoman, etc.). Vladimir asks the assembled princes which of them isnbsp;able to read, and will discover to the rest the contents of the book.

And tell us of the white light: Whence has come our white light.nbsp;Whence came our red sun.nbsp;Whence came the pale new moon.nbsp;Whence came the innumerable stars.nbsp;Whence came the bright red glow.nbsp;The red glow of dawn and of eventide i�

All the tsars are silent save the wise David, the son of Esau, who volunteers to expound to them the contents of the book. The princesnbsp;thank him, and the rest of the poem consists of groups of questions put

' I. p. 204 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� I. p. 205, note.

3 I. p. 205 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;I. p. 240 ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 I, p, 259 ff.

� We are following the stikh in Bezsonov, I. p. 293 ff.; but the versions do not differ materially from one another.

to David by them in the form of a series, and his answers, likewise in groups and in the form of a series. The convention resembles the riddlenbsp;sequences which we shall see later to be common in Russian folkpoetry; but the questions are not riddles, since the meaning is nevernbsp;veiled. This dialogue occupies almost the whole of the poem, whichnbsp;varies in length from thirty lines to over nine hundred lines, the settingnbsp;occupying a few lines only at the beginning and end.

After enquiring as to the origin of the universe, the princes next enquire as to the origin of the various social classes of mankind, such asnbsp;tsars, boyars, muzhiks, etc. Satisfied on these points, they enquire as tonbsp;who is the chief tsar of all the tsars, and which is the chief of all cities,nbsp;and are told that the �White Tsar� of Russia is the chief of tsars, becausenbsp;he professes the Christian faith, and Jerusalem is the chief of cities,nbsp;because the Holy Sepulchre is there. Then follow questions on geography, of the kind with which we are familiar in secular poetry ofnbsp;didactic and antiquarian learning, such as � which sea is the mother of allnbsp;seas, which lake the mother of all lakes .^� The answers, however, shownbsp;the reciters to be better endowed with spiritual than with intellectualnbsp;gifts, since they do not shrink from declaring, among other analogousnbsp;statements, that Ilmen is the chief of lakes because the River Jordannbsp;flows out of it. They are not wholly without intellectual scruples, however, for they hasten to add that it is not the Lake Ilmen beside Novgorod which is in question, but the Ilmen^ which is beside Jerusalem.nbsp;We are next told in succession the chief of each of the animal kingdoms,nbsp;of the mountains and the trees; allegorical questions follow, approximating closely to riddles. Finally David interprets Vladimir�s dream asnbsp;portending the future marriage of his own daughter with David�s sonnbsp;Solomon; and with this personal touch the poem ends.

It will be seen that the poem is analogous in form to the Old Norse poem Sigrdrlfumdl. In each the framework of the poem represents anbsp;dialogue as taking place between a character famous in heroic poetrynbsp;and a non-heroic individual famous for wisdom and knowledge. Thenbsp;body of the Christian poem, however, is occupied, not with spells andnbsp;heathen lore, but with antiquarian and learned matter transformed intonbsp;Christian lore. In this respect it resembles the Anglo-Saxon dialoguenbsp;poem of Salomon and Saturn. There can be no doubt that the poem is anbsp;traditional type of great antiquity which has lent itself readily to adaptation as a vehicle of popular Christian instruction.

� Ilmen is the Finnish word meaning �lake�. Is the reciter or composer of the poem aware of this?

The history of dukhovny stikh, or spiritual poetry, so far as we can trace it, appears to be in many respects similar to that of the byliny.nbsp;Dukhovny stikh seems to have existed in a form similar to that in whichnbsp;we now have it already as early as the fifteenth century,^ for in a MS.nbsp;dating from that period we find the unique, and famous dukhovny stikhnbsp;of�Adam�, which was written down at the close of the fifteenth century.nbsp;During this century also we find a reference to a dukhovny stikh, analogousnbsp;in content to the stikh of �Adam�. Its title is especially interesting. It isnbsp;called �a stikh�a starina for the ale-drinking�. The expression �for thenbsp;ale-drinking� probably means that this stikh was sung at dinner time,nbsp;when, in accordance with monastic rule, ale was drunk. The identification of the stikh with the starina is particularly interesting, for starina is,nbsp;as we have seen, the customary name in north Russia for a bylina, andnbsp;the occurrence of the word in connection with a dukhovny stikh suggestsnbsp;that already in this early period the dukhovny stikh and the starina arenbsp;identical in form. On the other hand according to Speranski the majoritynbsp;of the dukhovnye stikhioi a pre-eminently historical character, i.e. relatingnbsp;to the Russian saints, have reference to the fifteenth and sixteenthnbsp;centuries. We may with probability conclude, therefore, that this wasnbsp;the period, if not actually of the first appearance of such poetry, at leastnbsp;of the first vigorous growth and expansion of dukhovnye stikhi in theirnbsp;present form.

From the middle of the seventeenth century we have very rich material for the study of poetry of this kind. Fragments of suchnbsp;dukhovnye stikhi are found in MSS. dating from this period, and from thenbsp;close of the century we have whole collections, which were copied andnbsp;added to throughout the eighteenth century.

The conclusions which we may draw from these written stikhi, both the earlier and later, may be summarised briefly as follows. The spreadnbsp;of dukhovny stikh, i.e. religious poetry which, despite its originalnbsp;inspiration from books, had an independent life in oral transmission,nbsp;began approximately with the fifteenth century. In the history of thisnbsp;poetry, however, we can distinguish two phases,� which appear tonbsp;correspond to the history of the byliny. The earliest phase introducednbsp;stikhi which are mainly narrative in character, and which correspond innbsp;form and diction to the byliny. We may suppose that they were composed when the byliny are believed to have first assumed their presentnbsp;form, i.e. from the late fifteenth to the seventeenth centuries, and in anbsp;similar milieu. We may also conclude that, like the latter, they havenbsp;� Speranski, R.U.S. p. 363.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� lb. p. 364.

always consisted for the most part of narrative. The stikhi of this phase, like the byliny, have had a continuous history down to the present day.

The second phase appears not to have been introduced into northern Russia until the second half of the seventeenth century, from whichnbsp;period it also has had a continuous history. Poetry of tl�s second kindnbsp;is characterised, as has been said already, by a rhymed strophic form,nbsp;and has developed in the full current of western influence. Before thisnbsp;period rhyme is believed to have been unknown in northern Russia.nbsp;Both these forms flourish side by side in Russia today, but the earliernbsp;form continues to predominate in northern Russia, the later in southern,nbsp;though both are found to some extent in the same areas.

POST-HEROIC poetry may be said to have hardly begun in the oral traditional poetry of Russia. The traditional heroic stylenbsp;has persisted down to our own day, and examples of originalnbsp;post-heroic themes are rare and practically confined to byliny relating tonbsp;the seventeenth century. Even here the literary features of style arenbsp;generally those of heroic poetry. The post-heroic elements in thesenbsp;poems are chiefly to be found in the more advanced political thoughtnbsp;expressed by the speakers. At times a post-heroic element has also beennbsp;introduced into byliny of other Cycles, originally heroic, and can benbsp;discerned in the sophisticated outlook of the reciter, or of the milieu innbsp;which he has received his repertoire.

Post-heroic features hardly appear in the byliny of the early Cycles. Exceptions are, however, to be found occasionally. The bylina ofnbsp;Terenti Gost, �Terence the Merchant�, in the Novgorod Cycle is postheroic in subject and in tone, though even here the style and metre arenbsp;heroic throughout (cf. p. 51 above). Some of the byliny of Vasilinbsp;Buslaev are also post-heroic in treatment, especially those in whichnbsp;burlesque is most obvious. Indeed we have already seen reason tonbsp;regard the Novgorod Cycle as a whole as far removed from the originalnbsp;heroic impetus. Vsevolod Miller long ago pointed out that the action ofnbsp;the Novgorod epos is for the most part unheroic in character, and henbsp;reminds us that the term �heroes� Q)ogatyrt) Nf2S, not originally appliednbsp;to the personnel of this Cycle, but came into the repertoire of thenbsp;Olonets ska7jteli from the heroic byliny of Kiev and Suzdal.^

Post-heroic poetry as a definite genre makes its appearance for the first time in the seventeenth century in the Period of Troubles. Reference has already been made to the censorious tone assumed in regardnbsp;to Boris Godunov in the poems composed on the death of the Tsarevichnbsp;Dimitri. These poems, and still more the poems on Vasili Shuyski andnbsp;on Kuzma Minin and Pozharski, contain an element of criticism, thenbsp;expression of a strong feeling of dissatisfaction directed against thenbsp;boyars, who are regarded as betraying the country.

In the latter poem, in addition to the political consciousness expressing itself in a tendency towards party faction, we meet for the first time annbsp;appeal to action addressed primarily to the bourgeoisie, who are callednbsp;upon to assume serious responsibilities of citizenship. Moreover anbsp;change is noticeable in the attitude of the poems towards Russia, whichnbsp;is no longer regarded merely as a geographical area, as in the earliernbsp;cycles, but stands rather for a conception of the Russian people as anbsp;whole, perhaps more especially the aristocracy and the merchant classes.nbsp;This newly attained national consciousness is the natural outcome of anbsp;political situation which was to terminate in the patriotic rise of thenbsp;citizens under the leadership of Minin, the butcher of Nizhni Novgorod.nbsp;A brief satirical narrative poem on the Priest Simeon also exists^ whichnbsp;shows that the spirit of enlightenment was expressing itself in a criticalnbsp;attitude even towards the church itself.

These few short poems which have survived from the Period of Troubles throw an interesting light on the state of popular feeling withnbsp;regard to Muscovite politics in the seventeenth century. It will benbsp;observed that all the lyliny of this period, heroic and non-heroic alike,nbsp;are strongly royalist in sympathy. This feeling is expressed particularlynbsp;strongly in the bylina on Kw^a Minin and Prince Posharski whichnbsp;celebrates the election of

Indeed it is difficult to escape the conclusion that the byliny of this period were exercises in political journalism, and perhaps we may evennbsp;suspect that their composers were not without party support andnbsp;encouragement.

When we turn to examine the byliny dating from the period intermediate between the Period of Troubles and the present day we are struck by the absence of political feeling and party politics. Bezsonovnbsp;regards the first of the variants which he records of the bylina on thenbsp;death of the Empress Katharine II as inspired by party feeling directednbsp;against the Emperor Paul.3 But the frank censure characteristic of thenbsp;byliny of the preceding century has been replaced by innuendo. Plainnbsp;speech is absent, and we do not think that even such a half-heartednbsp;spirit of censure as this poem may be supposed to contain is common.

We have already referred to the royal proscription of references to certain proper names�a proscription which may have affected thenbsp;byliny more widely than we realise. But whatever the immediate causenbsp;may be, the almost total absence of political feeling in these byliny, innbsp;contrast to those of the previous period, as well as their tone of personalnbsp;loyalty to the tsars and tsaritsas, are particularly instructive as indicating the strength and longevity of the heroic tradition in Russiannbsp;popular poetry, and the close ties which to the end united the interestsnbsp;of the minstrels to the tsarist regime.

Nevertheless alongside the traditional type of heroic poetry which again comes into favour in this period we find post-heroic poetry of anbsp;somewhat different character from that which we have been discussing.nbsp;We may instance the byliny on the two great battles of Ehresfer* andnbsp;Poltava�, fought between the Russians under Peter the Great, andnbsp;the Swedes. In these poems the issue is clearly conceived as dependingnbsp;on the united action of whole armies rather than of individual heroes.nbsp;We may refer also to the bylina in which defiance is offered to the Swedesnbsp;by the Russians before Poltava,3 and in which again regiments rathernbsp;than individuals are represented as deciding the issue in combat. In thenbsp;later bylina on the capture of Smolensk'^ national consciousness is fullynbsp;developed. These poems are analogous to the Anglo-Saxon poemnbsp;composed on the Battle of Brunanburh, in which, in spite of manynbsp;echoes of heroic poetry, we have a clear conception of national consciousness and a realisation of the importance of the army as a whole.

Antiquarian poetry is rarely met with in the repertoires of the ska^iteli or the kal�ki. We have no doubt that its place has, in general,nbsp;been usurped by Christian historical poetry such as the Lives of thenbsp;Saints. Occasionally, however, antiquarian touches are introduced,nbsp;even into Christian religious poetry, as we see in the last two lines ofnbsp;the stikh on the �Vigil of Saint Dimitri� (cf. p. 184 above). The boldestnbsp;flight of antiquarian speculation known to us in Russian oral poetry isnbsp;the little poem which claims that the organisation of the kal�ki perek-ho^^hie was instituted by Jesus Christ himself on Ascension Day. Thisnbsp;poem has already been noticed in connection with non-heroic poetry,nbsp;and translated on p. 187 f. above.

� Kir�evski, viii. p. 168 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Rambaud, R.E. p. 320 f.

not unfrequently assume an antiquarian form. We may refer once more to the story of Ivan the Terrible, in which treason is said to be introducednbsp;into Russia for all time, as a result of his act of perfidy (cf. p. 171 above).nbsp;In another story we are told that Lake Ladoga was originally calm, tillnbsp;roused by God�s anger against the human race, after which it was invariably stormy till pacified by Peter the Great (cf. p. 178 above). Thenbsp;story of Nikita Kozhimyaka and his fight with the serpent, clearlynbsp;identical with the story of the slaying of the serpent by Dobrynya,nbsp;concludes with an antiquarian speculation on a great vallum in southnbsp;Russia, traces of which still remain (cf. p. 170 above).

Indeed where antiquarian speculation exists in Russian popular literature it is found chiefly in the form of local and ecclesiastical tradition, and undoubtedly for the most part in the form of prose. For at least fournbsp;hundred years the name of Ilya Muromets has been attached to one ornbsp;other of the bodies preserved from early times in open coffins in thenbsp;crypts at Kiev. While this claims to be, and has generally been regardednbsp;as genuine historical tradition, there can be little doubt that the identification is due to medieval ecclesiastical speculation. Further, in thenbsp;village of Karachoro in the province of Murom, which has come to benbsp;traditionally associated with Ilya�doubtless through confusion withnbsp;Murov�there is a family known as the Ilyuchni, who claim directnbsp;descent from the bogatyr. Here again similarity of name has no doubtnbsp;led to genealogical speculation and speculative identification. Localnbsp;legends abound which are associated with various incidents in the lifenbsp;of the hero.

The local traditions of Kiev associate the bodies preserved in the caves with other bogatyri, in addition to Ilya of Murom. Such identifications probably originated in learned speculations on the etymology ofnbsp;the word bogatyr, which was explained by a spurious etymology' asnbsp;�Champion of God�, and the term was no doubt applied indifferentlynbsp;to saints and heroes. It is possible, therefore, that the tradition of thenbsp;caves of Kiev merely indicates that saints and heroes such as St Ilya arenbsp;believed to be buried there. There is, indeed, a rival tradition whichnbsp;associates the burial-place of the heroes of Kiev with quite a differentnbsp;locality. The work of a Russian traveller of the sixteenth century contains the statement that about ten versts'^ from Kiev, on the oppositenbsp;bank of the Dnepr, lies the city of Pereyaslavl, where the Russiannbsp;bogatyri are buried, and adds that very large stones lie in the burial-

ground.* We do not know if the reference here is to boulders or to Christian tomb-stones. It is particularly interesting, however, in viewnbsp;of the fact that according to one version of the bylina, recorded fromnbsp;the recitation of an old Siberian Cossack,* the heroes of Kiev fled to thenbsp;hills above Kiev after the great battle against the Tatar �Tsar Kalin�,nbsp;and were turned to stone. Has this version of the bylina been influencednbsp;by the local tradition, or has the tradition arisen from the attempts ofnbsp;local antiquaries to identify the spot referred to in the bylina^ It is difficult to say. But to describe burial in a Christian cemetery with Christiannbsp;headstones as being �turned to stone� would be quite in accord withnbsp;the traditional figurative diction characteristic of the byliny, which isnbsp;responsible for the growth of so many of their supernatural features.

Gnomic and didactic poetry or saga are equally scantily represented in the collections before us. We are almost wholly in the dark in regardnbsp;to the native learning of the ancient Russians. We have already notednbsp;the absence of poetry of Type C apart from rare examples of Christiannbsp;stikhi of this kind. It is natural to suppose that the influence of thenbsp;Church has to a large extent taken the place of the development of bothnbsp;popular ethics and popular learning. Such relics as we possess of poetrynbsp;of this kind have generally been transmuted, as is not uncommon innbsp;Christian countries, into popular entertainment literature or popularnbsp;games.

Popular learning is represented chiefly by the echoes which survive in the ^yigadki (sing, ^agadka). The word is generally translated �riddle�nbsp;or �dark saying�. It does not appear, however, that the 7yLgadki arenbsp;always expressed in the form of riddles, and many of them appear tonbsp;correspond to the kmnings familiar to us from Celtic and Teutonic literature. They consist for the most part of statements or questions, couchednbsp;in highly figurative terms, about the weather or natural phenomena�nbsp;the sun, moon, stars, the winds, the sea, the sky, rocks, death, etc. ; e.g.

Riddle: �There is inscribed a writing on blue velvet, and to read that writing is given neither to priests, nor to deacons, nor to wise muzhiks.�

According to Khudyakov,'^ in the Government of Pskov, on the occasion of a marriage, the bridegroom and his friends are obliged to

answer all the riddles put to them by the bride�s friends before they are allowed to enter the bride�s cottage. It is stated that in one of the villagesnbsp;in the Government of Yaroslav, �riddles� are asked by the �seller of thenbsp;bride� instead of coin, and are answered, as payment, by the groomsman, in gestures instead of words.^ On the other hand, in the poemnbsp;quoted below, which was heard by Buslaev in Moscow, it is the bridegroom who asks riddles of the bride.� The custom is also found in folktales. Ralston quotes a story�not of native origin�in which a princessnbsp;tests her suitors by riddles, beheading those who are unable to answernbsp;them, and marrying the suitor whose intelligence is equal to the ordeal.3nbsp;Parallels in other folk-tales could be multiplied indefinitely, and thenbsp;motif occurs also in Tatar oral saga.

The following folk-song, recorded by Buslaev in Moscow and translated by Ralston, relates a riddle wooing of this kind. Here the riddle sequence is encased in a slight framework of narrative:

A maiden fair was strolling in a garden. Gathering rosy flow�rets was the maiden;nbsp;By that way a merchant�s son came driving:nbsp;�Now may God be with thee, beauteous maiden,nbsp;God be with thee, rosy flow�rets gathering!�nbsp;�Many thanks! O merchant�s son! Thanks many!�nbsp;�Shall I ask thee riddles, beauteous maiden.�nbsp;Six wise riddles shall I ask thee?�

Higher than the forest�is the moon. Brighter than the light�the ruddy sun.nbsp;Thicker than the forest�are the stars.nbsp;Rootless is, O merchant�s son, a stone.nbsp;Never silent, merchant�s son, the sea.nbsp;And God�s will is past all finding out.�nbsp;� Thou hast guessed, O maiden fair, guessed rightly.nbsp;All the six wise riddles hast thou answered.

Therefore now to me shalt thou be wedded. Therefore, maiden, shalt thou be the merchant�s wife.��*

' Loc. cit. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Ib. p. 354 ff. 3 lb, p. 356.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Ib. p. 356 f.

It is interesting to observe that the riddles are asked in a series, and the answers are also delivered in a series. In this they form a contrast tonbsp;the Latin and Anglo-Saxon riddles, each of which is self-contained andnbsp;supplied independently with its answer. The Russian form recalls somenbsp;of the Early Norse Riddles of Gestumblindi in the Hervarar Saga, e.g. :nbsp;What lives in high mountains.^nbsp;What falls in deep valleys.�nbsp;What lives without breathing?

And dew falls in deep valleys, A fish lives without breathing,nbsp;And the booming waterfall is never silent.�

Traces of the same form are found also in Irish. In the Amra Choluim Chille (cap. 63) � we have a fragment of a riddle sequence.nbsp;What life is worse than death.�nbsp;What empty is heavier than full.�nbsp;What lake is broader than any sea.�

We shall see in the following volume that the same form of riddle sequence is characteristic also of the riddles of the Tatars. It will benbsp;observed that in all these examples�Russian, Norse and Irish�thenbsp;sequence of answers, read independently of the riddles which promptnbsp;them, form a set of gnomic verses closely resembling the Cottonian andnbsp;Exeter gnomes of Anglo-Saxon literature.

The parallels between the Norse and the Russian riddles extend beyond the external framework. Many of the Russian ^agadki recall innbsp;detail of both form and style some of the Early Norse riddles. We maynbsp;perhaps compare the form of the following riddle of Gestumblindi :

I went from home, I made my way from home, I looked upon a road of roads. A road was beneath me, a road above me, and a road on every side 3�nbsp;with a riddle asked by a suitor of the princess in the Russian storynbsp;referred to above:

As I came to you, I saw on the way what was bad, and I struck the bad with a bad thing, and of what was bad the bad died.�*

It is no doubt significant that the subjects treated in Gestumblindi�s riddles chiefly have reference to natural phenomena, and offer almostnbsp;the same range of theme as the Russian riddles referred to and quoted bynbsp;Ralston. We shall see in the following volume that in this respect alsonbsp;the Russian and the Norse riddles bear a close resemblance to thosenbsp;which occur in the oral literature of the Tatars.

The evidence afforded by the ^agadki�^whether we consider the nature of their contents, the circumstances in which they are introduced,nbsp;or the sagas in which they form a motif�suggests that they werenbsp;used in the past as �intelligence tests�, or �education tests�, in the �oralnbsp;examination� which appears to have formed a part of the generalnbsp;examination usually held as a part of the proceedings connected withnbsp;peasant weddings. As the preliminary part of this transaction thenbsp;parents or their representatives meet and discuss the circumstances ofnbsp;both parties. Erman observed� that in western Siberia early last centurynbsp;the second, or practical, stage of the proceedings was a mutual inspectionnbsp;of one another�s appearance by the prospective bride and bridegroom.nbsp;We have already seen that in certain districts the marriage is said tonbsp;have depended on the ability of tlie bride, or, more often, the bridegroom, to answer a series of questions on matters relating to popularnbsp;natural science, philosophy, etc. In folk-tales failure is said at times tonbsp;prove fatal. It would seem therefore that the riddle, whether of nativenbsp;or foreign origin, is regarded as an ordeal, intellectual in character, whichnbsp;those who aspire to matrimony must pass to the satisfaction of the othernbsp;party. In other words, it is a test of the culture of mind of the aspirant.nbsp;The conduct of the princess who orders the unsuccessful suitors to benbsp;put to death becomes intelligible if we consider that mere uneducatednbsp;boors, in no wise qualified for polite circles, are presuming to offernbsp;themselves as suitors for the royal hand. We shall see in the followingnbsp;chapter that a large amount of the poetry which relates to unnamednbsp;individuals is directly connected with social ritual. If our suggestion asnbsp;to the original function of Russian riddles is correct, it is interesting asnbsp;showing that, so far from being, in the first instance, a social recreationnbsp;or mere artistic form, they have their origin in social ritual, and serve annbsp;economic purpose.

Philosophical and reflective poetry can hardly be said to have developed far in Russia as an independent composition. Examples are not wholly wanting in which these elements predominate, but the frame-� Erman, i. p. 388.

work is generally that of some other type of poetry. Dormidontov cites (p. 242) an address to grief, a timeless-nameless apostrophe embodying a series of philosophical descriptive gnomes. The whole formsnbsp;an effective composition in figurative style, concluding:

I flee from grief into the dark forest, But grief is always there before me;nbsp;I flee from grief to the honourable feast.nbsp;But grief is there, seated beside me;nbsp;I flee from grief into the tsar�s tavern,�nbsp;But grief is waiting for me, and steals my beer.nbsp;When I was naked he mocked at me?

Descriptive poetry is not uncommon, though many of the examples cited in anthologies and collections may have been originally composednbsp;as a part of the wooing or marriage or other ceremonies of socialnbsp;and ritual solemnity. We may cite the two following which are published by Dormidontov (p. 241) as �Descriptions in poetical form�.

He dresses himself up, he dons his attire. He draws on his boots of morocco leather,nbsp;He gets into his long coat of fox-skin.nbsp;His coat of fox-skin rustles like the forest.nbsp;And his gold ring glistens like live coals.nbsp;He wears a cap of brocade velvet.nbsp;In his right hand is a slender canenbsp;And on the cane is a crimson ribbon.

Her cheeks flame crimson. Her black eyebrows are pencilled.nbsp;Her rebellious head is smoothly combed,nbsp;Her flaxen plait is finely braided.nbsp;In the flaxen plait is a crimson ribbon.

* In former times spirits were a monopoly of the Crown in Russia, and formed a part of the royal revenues. The inns bore the royal arms, the Russiannbsp;eagle.

� Dormidontov, p. 242. For a variant, recorded by Shein, see Glazunov, R.N.L. p. 60, translated by Ralston, Songs, p. 30.

POEMS and sagas relating to unspecified individuals are very numerous. The latter consist mainly of folk-tales, and with thesenbsp;we are not prepared to deal. Very many of them have a wide international circulation. They must be regarded as �international� rathernbsp;than �national� literature, and their origin is quite uncertain. Russiannbsp;folk-tales indeed appear to have some individual characteristics, e.g. certain conventional motifs, formulae, openings, conclusions, etc. But tonbsp;indicate what is specifically Russian even in these would require anbsp;knowledge of the popular literature of the neighbouring peoples, and ofnbsp;folk-tales in general, to which we can make no claim. Moreover, thenbsp;subject is far too extensive and complex to be treated here, except in anbsp;perfunctory way. We shall therefore confine our attention to poetry ofnbsp;this class.

A large number of poems are published in Rybnikov�s collection from Shungsk and Olonets, and the regions of Lakes Ladoga and Oneganbsp;generally.* Others are published in the new series of the collection ofnbsp;Kir�evski, and in the collections of Sakharov, Tereshchenko, Shein, etc.nbsp;The complete works of the three last-named collectors have not beennbsp;accessible to us, but extracts are given in Glazunov�s Russkaya Narod-naya Lirtka, in Dormidontov�s Kratki Kurs Is tori Russkoy Literatury,nbsp;and in Istoriko-Literaturnaya Khrestomatya by Brodski, Mendelson andnbsp;Sidorov. English translations of a number of poems, chiefly in annbsp;abridged form, or merely extracts, are to be found in Ralston�s Songs ofnbsp;the Russian People. A more recent series of German translations hasnbsp;been published by Paul Eisner in Volkslieder der Slawen.

Narrative poetry which has reference wholly to unspecified individuals appears to be not very common. A large number of folk-tales and folk-motifs have been incorporated into the heroic poems, as wenbsp;have seen, especially into poems of the Kiev and Novgorod cycles,nbsp;while many others have become attached to the names of well-knownnbsp;historical figures. Poems which simply narrate a folk-tale of an unnamed person, or a person unknown beyond the limits of the story, are

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 217 not very frequently to be found in collections of Russian oral poetry,nbsp;though they are not unknown. It is quite possible, however, that ournbsp;evidence is defective on this head, and that more stories of namelessnbsp;characters exist than have been accessible to us.

Poems of Type B are exceedingly common. The majority relate to women, and are composed in the form of a �complaint�; but a largenbsp;number also relate to men. The poems of this type are occasional innbsp;character, and are generally limited to a narrow domestic environment.nbsp;Many of them are perhaps in origin poems of Type E, but we are oftennbsp;ignorant of the exact circumstances of composition. Poems of Type Dnbsp;are also common, especially elegies and laments.

The form and conventions characteristic of heroic poetry are surprisingly tenacious in Russia. The great majority of the poems which relate to unspecified individuals have adopted the metre, diction andnbsp;formulae of heroic poetry. The long line is in general use and is endstopped. The strophic form appears to be rare or entirely absent fromnbsp;Great Russia, offering a marked contrast to the varied metres of Littlenbsp;Russian lyrics. Many of the poems are, indeed, heroic in all respectsnbsp;except in the lack of proper names. Such poetry is distributed all overnbsp;north Russia and Siberia, and the provenance does not appear to differnbsp;from that of ordinary heroic poetry.

The narrative poetry of this class is related solely for purposes of entertainment, and shares in its general style the heroic characteristicsnbsp;of the narrative byliny^ though it is commonly briefer and less ambitiousnbsp;in scope than the latter. The time covered by the action is usuallynbsp;quite short, the characters introduced are few in number, and thenbsp;action is commonly, though not invariably, confined to a single episodenbsp;or situation. The actual stories narrated in poems of this class are verynbsp;often of the level and character of folk-tales.

Yet pure narrative poems which relate a true folk-tale are, as we have said, surprisingly rare in the collections which have been accessible tonbsp;us, and such poems as contain stories of the intellectual level and characternbsp;of folk-tales are usually quite brief. It would seem that the Russians donbsp;not possess any considerable body of poetry analogous to that of thenbsp;Yugoslavs, in which the heroic form seems to have attracted into itselfnbsp;a number of such motifs as are usually associated elsewhere withnbsp;folk-tales. In Russia motifs of this kind are generally to be found, notnbsp;in sustained narrative poems, but in short popular prose ska^^ki or folktales. This contrast between the usage of the Russians and the Yugoslavsnbsp;may be compared with the contrast in regard to their treatment of the

saints of the Greek church. Among the Yugoslavs stories of these saints, related in familiar, humorous and homely vein, are embodied innbsp;the form of narrative poetry, whereas in Russia such stories appear tonbsp;be confined in general to the ska^ki.

Although Russian narrative poems relating to unnamed persons are, in general, less ambitious in form and scope than those of the Yugoslavs, they resemble the latter in the nature of many of the subjectsnbsp;treated, as is to be expected in motifs which are similar to those of folktales. We may refer to a poem which relates how a band of robbersnbsp;attack a man and his wife and child as they are preparing food by thenbsp;sea in the course of a journey. It is not till after the robbers have slainnbsp;the man and drowned the child that they learn that the woman isnbsp;their own sister.� This motif of the sudden recognition of a brother and anbsp;sister after long absence is not unknown in Russia even in heroic poetry,nbsp;and has even made its way into the cycle of stories associated withnbsp;Alyosha Popovich.^ It is, however, believed to be late and intrusive,^nbsp;and is more commonly to be met with in Yugoslav poetry.

A poem recorded by Sakharov and translated by Ralston relates how a sister attempts to poison her brother, and how he discovers hernbsp;treachery by accident and takes summary vengeance. The narrative isnbsp;very brief, and both the brevity and the savagery are alien to Russiannbsp;heroic narrative poetry. The motif, details and treatment are more akinnbsp;to the Yugoslav narodne pjesme than to the by liny and Ralston was of thenbsp;opinion that the poem is of foreign origin; 5 but Russian parallels, bothnbsp;to the subject and to the treatment, are by no means lacking. We maynbsp;compare the story related in a group of poems recorded in Kir�evski�snbsp;collection among the �Poems of the Don Cossacks�,^ in which a hero isnbsp;represented as dismembering his own wife. But, while the former storynbsp;bears all the impress of a folk-motif, the latter is merely a version of thenbsp;bylina of Prince Roman to which reference has been made abovenbsp;(p. 153). Moreover, there can, we think, be little doubt that the association with Prince Roman is an original and not an adventitious one,nbsp;since certain byliny which relate the murder of his wife appear to benbsp;independent poems composed on the same subject, or at least versionsnbsp;which became variants at a very early date.7

* A translation is given by Ralston, Songs, p. 49 f. The text of this poem has not been accessible to us.

� See the version recorded by Sokolov (Kireevski, ii. p. 80 if. and p. 82, footnote).

3 See Miller, Ocherki, in. p. 77. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Songs, p. 394.

5 Ib. p. 23. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;6 Kireevski, v. p. 113 if.

As further illustrations of poems of this class we may refer to a series of poems or versions recorded in Kir�evski�s collection, in which annbsp;unnamed youth is represented as slaying in ignorance his own wife andnbsp;children at the evil instigation of his mother. Bezsonov connected* thisnbsp;theme with that contained in the bylina of Prince Mikhailo (see p. 57nbsp;above), and regarded both as connected with that of the bylina of Princenbsp;Roman.� The similarity of the themes is undeniable, and the � namelessnbsp;hero� may well be ultimately derived from Prince Roman. On thenbsp;other hand we have to take into account the encroachment of motifs of anbsp;�folk-tale� character into the domains of heroic poetry. This encroachment generally tends to increase as heroic tradition declines, and therenbsp;can be no doubt that atrocities such as the dismembering of a wife by anbsp;husband at the instigation of his mother is more in accordance with thenbsp;atmosphere of folk-tale than with that of heroic poetry. The processnbsp;may in actual fact be inverse, therefore, and the crude motif may conceivably represent a folk-motif which has become attached at an earlynbsp;period to a heroic figure, perhaps suggested by some remote resemblancenbsp;to an actual occurrence.

This brings us to a small class of poems which we have treated more fully in the section on byliny (p. 57 above). This class comprisesnbsp;poems in which pure folk-tales, or stories of the intellectual level ofnbsp;folk-tales, have become attached to names which purport to be historical, though they have never been successfully identified with anynbsp;known historical characters. We have already mentioned the poems onnbsp;Prince Mikhailo which perhaps belong to this class. We may refer herenbsp;also to the little poems on Prince Dimitri and Prince Danilo. In thenbsp;former the hero is represented as beating his affianced bride �till shenbsp;was half dead� because she had mocked his ugly appearance and ungainly carriage. The poem on Prince Danilo has already been discussednbsp;(Zoc. cZl).

It is possible that we ought to include in the class of poetry having reference to unidentified heroes, and close affinities with folk tales, atnbsp;least some of the byliny of the so-called �Older Cycle�, e.g. those ofnbsp;which the hero is Svyatogor, and possibly Mikula also. These heroes,nbsp;however, of whatever origin, have certainly acquired by courtesy andnbsp;long tradition a conspicuous place among the great heroes of byliny.nbsp;Moreover, Svyatogor is closely associated with Ilya of Murom and with

� See Editor�s note in Kir�evski, VII. Supplement, p. 25. See also Kir�evski, New Series, p. 72, no. 1903.

Mikula, while Mikula is associated with Volga, who claims, in his turn, to hold his cities under Vladimir of Kiev. Further, the byliny devoted tonbsp;Svyatogor, and more especially to Mikula, are, in general, much longernbsp;and more ambitious in form than the byliny of the class which we havenbsp;just been discussing. They are, in form, identical with the byliny of thenbsp;Kiev Cycle, sharing their scale, scope, literary style and conventions,nbsp;and we have no doubt that for many centuries they have been recited innbsp;the same milieu.

Next we may refer to poems which relate to known historical events, and events which have the appearance of actuality. In such poemsnbsp;witchcraft, magic, sudden transformations and the usual stock-in-tradenbsp;of folk-tales play hardly any part. Supernatural elements are absentnbsp;except for exaggeration and an occasional tendency to overstep the naturalnbsp;limits of time and space, which rarely goes beyond what is commonlynbsp;allowed in literary poetry to be poetic licence. A considerable body ofnbsp;poetry relating to individuals who are not named appears to have referencenbsp;to the robbers and Cossacks of the Don and Volga,�' and many poemsnbsp;are thought to have been composed in celebration and commemorationnbsp;of rebellions, raids, and political executions, especially those of Stenkanbsp;Razin and of the Streltsy in the seventeenth century, and of Pugachev innbsp;the eighteenth. Reference has been made above to the poem on thenbsp;�Execution of the Prince, the Great Boyar V which is thought to havenbsp;reference either to the son of Stenka Razin himself, who was executed atnbsp;Moscow in the Red Square in 1672, or to the execution of the leader of thenbsp;rising of the Streltsy in 1679. Iquot; such cases we have little doubt thatnbsp;many of the characters whose names are not mentioned are actualnbsp;historical characters. Sometimes we can be fairly certain as to theirnbsp;identity; sometimes the data are insufficient to allow of this.

An example of poetry of this class is summarised and partly translated by Ralston from Sakharov�s collection. The original text has not been accessible to us, but the poem appears to be a narrative. It relatesnbsp;that a great boyar (Ralston suggests that this is probably a certainnbsp;Prince Dolgoruki) starts from Moscow for the R. Don, boasting that henbsp;will hang all the Cossacks. They, suspecting his intention, meet togethernbsp;and form a great circle, in the midst of which the boyar takes his standnbsp;and reads to them the tsar�s ukazes. When he mentions the tsar�s royalnbsp;titles the Cossacks all doff their caps, but the boyar omits to do so,

Thereupon they rose in commotion, Flung themselves upon the Boyar,nbsp;Cut off his proud head,

Since the majority of such poems are very brief, and were, we may presume, composed in the first instance shortly after the events whichnbsp;they celebrate, the absence of proper names requires no explanation.nbsp;On the other hand we have reason to suspect that in many cases thenbsp;names were deliberately suppressed from motives of prudence. We havenbsp;seen (p. 66 above) that in the �Lament� which purports to be recitednbsp;by the tsaritsa Evdok�a Fedorovna Lopukhina, the first wife of Peter I,nbsp;the name of the tsaritsa does not appear, though Peter�s own name isnbsp;mentioned at the close of the poem. The omission of the tsaritsa�s namenbsp;might be explained by the fact that the poem is a speech poem in thenbsp;first person, and contains no narrative. On the other hand we know thatnbsp;after Peter had divorced his wife he issued a royal edict that her namenbsp;must never be mentioned, and for a long time songs which containednbsp;her name were prohibited.� Even in songs composed on the death ofnbsp;General Lopukhin in 1757 in the war against Prussia, the popularnbsp;singers frequently preferred to omit the name. We may well believenbsp;that the popular singers would hesitate to introduce the names of rebelnbsp;heroes and others who had not found favour with the crown.

In Little Russia the poetic convention of referring to individuals under the guise of birds has proved a useful device for poems with anbsp;dangerous political significance. Ralston translates 3 a khorovod^' songnbsp;recorded by Tereshchenko from this region which illustrates this convention very well. The Russian text has not been accessible to us, andnbsp;we are uncertain whether Ralston has translated the poem in its entirety.nbsp;No proper names are mentioned, but a number of individuals arenbsp;referred to under the guise of specific birds, from among whom the bullfinch is represented as choosing a bride. The poem appears to be a briefnbsp;narrative poem as given by Ralston, but we are told that the song isnbsp;sung during the dancing of the khorovod, and that the person representingnbsp;the bullfinch wanders about inside the khorovod, seeking his bridenbsp;among its members, who sing the song meanwhile. The song is said tonbsp;� Ralston, Songs, p. 42.

* The khorovod is a combination of song and circular dance. It was especially popular in Litde Russia before the Revolution, but was also widespread in Greatnbsp;Russia. See Ralston, Songs, p. 2.

have been composed during the reign of Ivan the Terrible, and to have been prohibited for a time because it contained allusions to the life of anbsp;certain influential boyar. The convention of referring to people undernbsp;the guise of birds is in origin, however, a poetic one, and was alreadynbsp;ancient when we first meet it in the Slovo o Polky Igoreve.^

In poetry relating to unnamed people, as in the heroic byliny, the distinction between narrative poetry and poetry of Type B tends to benbsp;somewhat arbitrary, owing to the brevity of the former poems, and thenbsp;tendency of poems of Type B to coalesce with them in form. The distinction may be said to disappear altogether when, as very often happens,nbsp;the tense changes from past to present, or the whole episode is represented as taking place before our eyes. In such poems speeches generallynbsp;play a large part. We may refer to the bylina on the � Execution of thenbsp;Prince, the Great Boyar�, in which a proud youth walks up the roadnbsp;leading to the scaffold, followed by his weeping relatives, and proudlynbsp;declines to humble himself before the tsar and ask for mercy.^

The following poem, recorded by Sakharov, relates undoubtedly to the labour enforced by Peter the Great in the construction of thenbsp;Ladoga Canal�labour involving the transportation of large numbers ofnbsp;Russian peasants from their distant homes :

It is not geese, my brothers, or swans, Rising from the pools and lakes,nbsp;It is noble youths arising.nbsp;Noble youths, the free people.nbsp;All the labourers of the lower river.nbsp;On the canal of Ladoga,nbsp;On the royal task.

They are escorted, those noble youths. By fathers and mothers, and young wives.nbsp;And with them their little children.3

� We may compare the description of the funeral ceremony of Ame-waka-hito, the � Young Sky-Lord � in prehistoric Japan, as related in the early Japanese chroniclenbsp;the Nihongi, in which various classes of birds are represented as taking the part ofnbsp;mourners and singing dirges. The editor cites the analogy of the Death of Cocknbsp;Robin. See Nikongi, I. p. 65 f.. Chronicles of Japan (English translation by W. G.nbsp;Aston, London, 1896, 2 vols., published as a Supplement to Transactions andnbsp;Proceedings of the Japan Society, London).

In such poems as these the semblance of oral journalism which we noted in byliny relating to the seventeenth century, is very marked.

The commonest kind of poetry of Type B is folk-songs. These may be said, in general, to correspond to the narrative poems embodyingnbsp;folk-tales and folk-motifs. It will be noticed that many of them arenbsp;composed in the form of a dialogue. The best examples approximate tonbsp;such Anglo-Saxon poems as The Wife�s Complaint (cf. Vol. i. p. 425).

� Do not sit, my beloved, late into the evening, Nor burn the candle of pure wax.nbsp;Nor linger for me till midnight.

Alas, have they departed, departed, our bright days.^ Has the rough wind carried away our joys.nbsp;And sown them broadcast over the open plain ?nbsp;My dear father has willed it,nbsp;My dear mother has bidden menbsp;That I should marry another wife!nbsp;Two suns do not blaze in the heavens,nbsp;Nor two moons shine.nbsp;One cannot twice love a fair maiden.

Yet will I not disregard my father; My dear mother I will obey,nbsp;I will wed another wife.nbsp;Another wife, an early death,nbsp;An early death and violent!�nbsp;The fair maid shed bitter tears.nbsp;And through her tears she cried;nbsp;�Alas, my darling, my beloved!nbsp;I cannot live in the white worldnbsp;Without thee, my hope!

I cannot take to myself two lovers!� The candle of pure wax is burning,nbsp;On the table lies a new coffin of deal.nbsp;In the coffin lies the fair maiden.^

The following little dialogue is a typical folk-song. The opening lines belong to the conventional openings of poems of Type D:

� Dormidontov, p. 235. For the opening formula, cf. also Glazunov, R.N.L. P- 59, no. 96.

Wert thou not planted in spring-time, Hast thou not been watered,nbsp;Or hast thou not been sheltered?nbsp;Beautiful maiden, my darling.nbsp;Dost thou love me, my joy?�nbsp;�How, dear one, could I do other than love thee�, etc.�

In springtime didst thou grow. In summer didst thou mature.nbsp;In autumn, O grass.nbsp;Didst thou begin to wither,�nbsp;Thy dearly belovednbsp;Didst thou begin to forget;nbsp;His beloved he has made to pine and grieve.nbsp;His heart has grown cold.nbsp;And he has driven menbsp;Out of my wits?

To judge from their form these poems might have been composed by a professional voplenitsa as part of wooing and funeral ceremonies (cf.nbsp;p. 286 below).

Many of the short lyrical poems recorded by Sakharov and Shein are speech poems introduced by a few lines of narrative, like the Anglo-Saxon poem, The Wanderer. We may give as an example the followingnbsp;poem recorded by Shein:

It is a youth speeding along the road. And shedding bitter tears from his bright eyes.nbsp;He has bidden farewell to his country.nbsp;To his native country on the lower river.nbsp;Where it flows into fair mother Volga;nbsp;He has bidden farewell to a fair maiden;nbsp;He has left her, as a reminder of himself,nbsp;A precious jewelled ring.

� Dormidontov, p. 234 (i). nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. p. 235 (2).

Gaze often upon my ring, And often will I kiss thy wedding ring,nbsp;Pressing it to my eager heart.nbsp;In remembrance of thee, my beloved.nbsp;When I think of another lovenbsp;May the gold wedding ring break;nbsp;If thou weddest anothernbsp;May the stone fall out of the jewelled ring.��

It will be observed that the form and diction are in the direct tradition of the heroic hyliny. Even in the following example, which has reference to a peasant girl, the same tradition prevails :

When to the bubbling spring. To the cool well,nbsp;A noble youth rode up,nbsp;A fair maiden was drawing water.nbsp;She drew her water and set it down;nbsp;And having set it down she grew wistful.nbsp;And growing wistful she began to weep.nbsp;And weeping she uttered a word:nbsp;�Well is it for him who lives in the worldnbsp;Having father and mother.nbsp;Father and mother, brother and sister.nbsp;Brother and sister, alas! his dear family.nbsp;Whereas I, a fair maiden.nbsp;No father have I, nor mother.nbsp;No brother, nor dear sister.nbsp;No sister, nor dear family.nbsp;No friends whom I can love.�^

Examples of poetry of this class abound in the collections of Russian oral poetry. For a recent collection the reader is referred to the newnbsp;issue of Kir�evski�s collection Pesni Neobryadov�e (Moscow, 1929).nbsp;Throughout these poems, as in Type B elsewhere, feminine interestnbsp;preponderates over masculine.

Much of the poetry of Type B, like the narrative poetry already referred to, appears to have reference to historical events. We maynbsp;cite the little poem on Prince Vasili in Kir�evski�s collection.3 The poemnbsp;opens with five lines of narrative in which we are told that Princenbsp;Vasili was drowned in the blue sea �through the weight of his goldnbsp;crown �, the remainder of the poem consisting of the speeches of hisnbsp;widow. The identity of Prince Vasili is unknown.

� Glazunov, R.N.L. p. 58. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib- p. 56.

In many cases the proper names have not been recorded because they were of no great importance, though the poems nevertheless may wellnbsp;refer to an actual occasion which has taken place in the past. We maynbsp;refer to the following address of a dying man, probably a Cossack, tonbsp;his companions, recorded by Aristov:

Take me, brothers, by the white hands. Raise me up, brothers, on my nimble feet.nbsp;Lead me into the Church of God,nbsp;Give me Communion, brothers, and shrive me;nbsp;Place me in a coach,nbsp;Bear me forth, brothers, into the open plain.nbsp;Into the open plain, into the broad open space.nbsp;Lay me, brothers, where three roads meet.nbsp;At my head erect the life-giving cross.�

We may mention also a poem recorded by Rybnikov^ in the Government of Archangel which has reference to the recruiting officers who go to fetch the widow�s only son. We are told, however, that the poem isnbsp;commonly recited by the relatives of the young soldier leaving his homenbsp;for the army, and is thus actually recited as a lament, amid tears andnbsp;sobs.

Some of the finest examples of poetry of this Type consist of poems which, like certain of the narrative poems, have reference to a definitenbsp;event, but of which the proper names have been forgotten or suppressednbsp;for political reasons. As examples we may refer to the poem in which anbsp;boyar is represented as addressing his own head as he awaits executionnbsp;on the scafFold.3 The poem is thought to have been inspired by thenbsp;executions following upon the revolt of the streltsy, the old Muscovitenbsp;palace guard, which took place during the foreign tour of Peter thenbsp;Great between 1697-8. Such poems do not, however, differ essentiallynbsp;from such bylmy2amp; the �Lament of Ksenya� referred to above, save thatnbsp;accident has put us in possession of the identity of the speaker of thenbsp;latter poem.

Since all these poems, whether of Type A or B, are brief, it naturally follows that the time covered by the action will be short. Speeches formnbsp;a large proportion of poetry of this kind. Indeed it would be safe to saynbsp;that the speech far outweighs the narrative portions, and the first person

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 227 is the one most commonly used. Static epithets are universal, but theynbsp;appear to be of a simple type and narrow range. They are in generalnbsp;identical with those of heroic poetry, e.g. � stone-built Moscow�, �brightnbsp;moon �, � damp earth �, � green wine �, � mighty beer �, � bright eyes �, � bravenbsp;youths�, �red sun�, �green garden�. Rhetorical repetitions also frequently occur, especially where the poet wishes to lead up to a climax.nbsp;The figures, similes, especially such as are drawn from nature, and thenbsp;metaphors of heroic poetry, the curious use of ne to form comparisonsnbsp;or strong contrasts, the invocations and adjurations to nature, and thenbsp;artistic use of the �pathetic fallacy�, are all introduced here as freely andnbsp;effectively as in the byliny. Elaborate figures of speech are as commonnbsp;and as well sustained as in heroic poetry. We may instance the habit ofnbsp;referring to ladies as �white swans�, or �cuckoos�, to boys as �falcons�,nbsp;to parents as � suns �. The figure is often sustained through several lines.nbsp;We know of no more elaborate metaphor in the heroic poems than thatnbsp;of the following extract from one of the Cossack songs recorded bynbsp;Sakharov:

Not with a plough was the cornfield ploughed, whether of steel or wood, But with the keen spears of the Tatar princes.

With the figure sustained throughout this passage we may compare that of the Slovo, 1. 583 ff.

In Vol. I, Type E (personal and occasional poetry) was found only in a later phase of intellectual development than that which is representednbsp;in the oral poetry of Great Russia today. It might be argued that muchnbsp;of this Russian poetry is the village equivalent of Type E, and that itnbsp;expresses the opinions and emotions of persons of the peasant class as

faithfully as the poetry of Type E treated in Vol. i reflects those of more advanced and educated persons. This is true enough; but there is anbsp;difference. In the Russian peasant poetry the form is stereotyped andnbsp;conventional. In general the original element in any given poem of thisnbsp;class is comparatively slight. Such poems might be called �patternnbsp;poems�, or mosaics. They are, in fact, the poems of a class rather thannbsp;of an individual. And this is equally true of the poems of Types D and Bnbsp;which relate to domestic life and social functions. Whether the lamentsnbsp;and other poems of domestic life are composed by the principals andnbsp;reciters on their own behalf, or whether they are composed for them by anbsp;more gifted friend, or relative, or professional composer, the form, style,nbsp;and, in general, the content of the poem varies only within a strictlynbsp;limited range, dictated by tradition.

That the custom of composing personal and occasional poetry is very widespread in Russia there can be no doubt. On the subject of thenbsp;extempore composition of personal poetry, the English traveller Coxenbsp;made some interesting observations in the latter half of the eighteenthnbsp;century. He tells us that the peasants frequently compose extemporenbsp;songs relating to their past experiences or their present situation, amongnbsp;other subjects, even chanting, in dialogue with one another, theirnbsp;ordinary conversations. The account is given in his own words morenbsp;fully on p. 285 below. It may, however, be doubted whether many ofnbsp;these informal personal compositions survive a single recitation, ornbsp;whether such poetry ever passes beyond the limits set to its form, diction, or sentiments by well established tradition. We have, of course, innbsp;Russia as elsewhere, vast quantities of personal poetry which havenbsp;reference to individuals and occasions in private life which are in nonbsp;sense social functions, but the poems in which these individuals expressnbsp;themselves are none the less stereotyped and objective.

The most interesting body of poetry in this category is undoubtedly that which is connected with social ritual (Type D). The conservativenbsp;and conventional character of this social ritual has given rise in Russianbsp;to an equally conventional body of poetry, celebrating, or more frequently lamenting, the various occasions of ceremonial gravity whichnbsp;occur in the life of individuals and communities. Much of this poetry is,nbsp;as we have already remarked, composed by the individuals who recite it,nbsp;while again much is composed by more gifted friends or relatives, or bynbsp;professional composers, on their behalf. We are singularly fortunate innbsp;possessing a considerable amount of information relating to the circumstances under which this formal village poetry is composed in

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 229 Russia, but we must leave further discussion of these details till we comenbsp;to our final chapter on �The Popular Poet and Story-Teller�. Here wenbsp;will confine ourselves to a few examples of the actual poetry belongingnbsp;to this class.

We will first give examples of elegiac poetry, such as are recited at various stages in the ceremonial proceedings which follow upon anbsp;death in the Onega district. Rybnikov recorded a number of examplesnbsp;of dirges and laments which formed a part of the social ritual connectednbsp;with the funeral practices of this area. He tells us� that in the backwardnbsp;and more conservative districts every woman can give expression to hernbsp;grief in poetical form, either by composing a new \aplachka (� lament�),nbsp;or by adapting one already in existence to the new circumstances. Henbsp;records four examples from the recitation of a young woman of Pudoga,nbsp;which, though cruder than the compositions of the professionalnbsp;voplenitsa, lit. �mourner�, see p. 286 f. below, yet retain enough of thenbsp;original diction to convince us that even these personal and privatenbsp;dirges follow traditional lines. The first is a lament by a mother for anbsp;dead baby, consisting of forty-two lines :

On such a day as this The sun does not burn as in the summer time,nbsp;It does not warm as in the spring:nbsp;I have suffered a heavy loss,nbsp;I have let fall a great treasure�nbsp;My own darling.

I will draw near, sad and weeping, To my own beloved:nbsp;�Tell me, my dear one,nbsp;Why have you deceived your mother,nbsp;Your mother forlorn?

I can get no answer. Not one secret wordnbsp;For my troubled heart.nbsp;Hearken, my heart�s dearest.nbsp;My own, my darling baby�....

' Our information regarding the poetry of social ritual is largely derived from the Introduction to the first volume of Rybnikov�s P�sni, and from his running commentary on the poetry of social ritual contained in the third volume of the samenbsp;work.

The second is a slightly shorter lament for a dead mother, to be recited when the corpse is removed. The opening lines are recited by thenbsp;whole family, the rest by her daughter, who laments in traditionalnbsp;archaic diction the privations and hardships which will befall thenbsp;orphan, deprived of�sugared foods��the traditional phrase of the Kievnbsp;poems�and mocked at by all honest folk.� We may refer also to thenbsp;translation of another of these orphan songs published by Ralston.3nbsp;Elsewhere Ralston also gives laments of orphans which are recited at anbsp;later period than the dirge proper.4

The third song in the little group recited to Rybnikov by the woman of Pudoga is a brief lament by a wife for a dead husband,^ and the fourthnbsp;is a more ambitious lament of over seventy lines which was improvisednbsp;by a young woman on the death of her first cousin. We shall have occasion to refer to this poem later. The concluding lines may be translatednbsp;as follows:

I feel blame and anger. Reproach and indignation.nbsp;Against my own mother,nbsp;Who did not send me, unhappy that I am.nbsp;To the dear loved one.nbsp;To my own cousin.

I would have laid aside my happy way of life. And all my golden treasure without stint.nbsp;Rather than give up my cousin.^

The following lament is composed to be recited by a widow of the poorer class after the body of her husband has been washed and dressednbsp;and laid on the table. As in the orphan�s lament referred to above, thenbsp;lament proper is prompted by a brief introduction in the form of anbsp;series of questions from the relatives. The whole is composed in annbsp;archaic form of diction which proves the form to be traditional, andnbsp;probably ancient.

Were you present at the passing of the soul. When the soul passed from the white body.^nbsp;And in what guise did swift Death come to you?nbsp;Did she come as a �poor� one, a wandering kal�ka.nbsp;Or as a �bold, brave, good youth�,nbsp;Or as a glorious workman from Petersburg.^

If the deceased were a poor man, the widow (or the professional mourner on behalf of the widow) answers as follows:

I would have bestowed on her countless golden treasure. And she would have left me my wedded spouse.

Shall I lose myself in the dark forest, Or plunge into a little round lake,nbsp;Or drown myself in a swift current?nbsp;Where can I divest myself of my great misery?...nbsp;Split open, damp mother earth.nbsp;Open, O new coffin planks.

Rybnikovalso recorded a similar lament composed to be sung in well-to-do households.^ Both poems are composed in the highly figurative style and diction with which we are already familiar from heroic poetry.

Further laments, known as prichitan�a, composed in rhetorical, if not rhythmical prose, are recorded by Sakharov and by Tereshchenko. Theynbsp;are sung by relatives of the deceased, or by a professional mourner (cf.nbsp;p. 286 below) beside the grave, as a part of the pomntki, ' commemoration� of the dead, a ceremony which takes place at some period subsequent to the funeral. Translations of two examples of these prichi-tan�a are given by Ralston.3

The most important poetry of social ritual is that which is connected with the marriage ceremonies. Russian peasant weddings in the Oneganbsp;district and other backward parts are accompanied by a long andnbsp;elaborate ceremonial. They begin with the formal proposal, made bynbsp;deputy, which is followed by the betrothal. Other ceremonies succeednbsp;one another rapidly. One of their most important features consists in thenbsp;recitation of appropriate poems at each stage of the proceedings. Thesenbsp;poems are sung by various persons taking part in the ceremonies�thenbsp;svath or professional male matchmaker, the svakha or professionalnbsp;female matchmaker, the bride, the bridegroom, the voplenitsa^ ornbsp;mistress of ceremonies (who is often identical with the professionalnbsp;mourner of the funeral songs), the bride�s mother, her girl friends, and

� Rybnikov, in. p. 115 ff- The complete poem is translated by Ralston, Songs, p. 338 ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* III. p. ii8ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Songs, p. 343 f.

The important r�le which she plays in Russian peasant weddings will be discussed later (p. 286 f. below).

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 233 Others. The songs, though highly conventional and traditional in style,nbsp;are largely extempore. Some are recited in solo, some in dialogue, somenbsp;in chorus. A collection of such songs was recorded by Rybnikov� fromnbsp;the recitation of a voplenitsa in the Onega district, and Tereshchenkonbsp;has devoted a whole volume of 618 pages to this subject, giving anbsp;detailed account of the marriage ceremonies in nine distinct Russiannbsp;provinces.� A number of other examples of these wedding songs arenbsp;also recorded by Sakharov and others from various parts of Russia.nbsp;English translations of a few specimens have been made by Ralston,^nbsp;who also devotes an admirable chapter to the ceremonial and weddingnbsp;customs generally. The series of songs given by Rybnikov, whichnbsp;follow closely the ceremonial of one of these weddings, constitutesnbsp;something very like a ritual drama.

The actual betrothal is generally negotiated by the matchmakers, and many of the songs purport to be sung by the bride, expressing her dismay at sight of their approach. Several of these songs are translated bynbsp;Ralston from the collections of Tereshchenko, and a number are recorded by Rybnikov. In the first of Rybnikov�s series^ the bridenbsp;appeals in turn to her father, her mother and her brothers ; in anothernbsp;she implores her compassionate relatives to retain her, and use her as annbsp;outdoor servant in the garden, or barn, or threshing floor:

A third poem in which the girl expresses her dismay at the arrival of the matchmakers opens in narrative form:

It is not two crows who have flown together in the dark forest. Or two warriors who have met in the open plain.

They have taken deep counsel together. They have lighted candles of pure wax.nbsp;Before the wonder-working ikon.

* in. p. 6 ff. A large and valuable body of such poetry is published in various Russian collections. An English translation of a complete series, such as thatnbsp;recorded by Rybnikov, would be valuable.

� See Ralston, Son^s, p. 263. The work of Tereshchenko has not been accessible to us.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Ib. p. 262 ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�* in. p. 6.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Ib. loc. cit.

Two days after the match is agreed upon comes the ceremony known as the poruchenie or llagoslovenie^ �betrothal�? During the interval thenbsp;future bride makes a round of visits among her relatives, attended bynbsp;some ten or twenty of her unmarried friends, singing various songs andnbsp;laments on her impending loss of liberty. The note of sadness andnbsp;regret, even of violent grief, which was expressed in her opening songs,nbsp;sung on the arrival of the matchmakers, is typical of all the songs sungnbsp;by the bride, and many of those also which are sung by her friends. Thenbsp;songs sung on this round of visits are concerned chiefly with regret fornbsp;the impending loss of girlhood and independence, and are full ofnbsp;gloomy foreboding for the future of the young bride, who will have tonbsp;leave her father�s dwelling and go to live in a distant part of the countrynbsp;with her husband�s harsh relatives. The following is an example of onenbsp;of these songs sung by a girl who laments that her mother is dead and willnbsp;not be able to give her her blessing at the nuptials.

It is moving without wind, It is dripping without rain;nbsp;Many are the sprays on the oak.nbsp;Many the sprays and branches.nbsp;Many the green sprays.nbsp;Many the curly fronds;

Only the damp oak Has no golden summit.nbsp;No gilded finial,nbsp;Such as would now be fitting.nbsp;Now, on this occasion.nbsp;Or in the golden Summer,nbsp;Or in the generous Spring.

Many the dear friends. And the near neighbours;nbsp;But the fair maidennbsp;Has no dear mother.nbsp;Whom now she stands in need of�nbsp;Now, on this occasion,nbsp;For the great betrothal.nbsp;I shall not lack food or drink.nbsp;But I shall miss the blessing....

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 235 In a case where the girl has no mother and a father only, the companynbsp;sing:

During various other formalities, such as visiting her husband�s relatives in the i:^a or peasant�s dwelling, which will be her home in thenbsp;near future, the bride continues to chant her formal songs. Two daysnbsp;after the preliminary arrangements referred to above, the bridegroomnbsp;and his friends come to the bride�s house where the formal betrothalnbsp;takes place. As the bride is led forward, her girl friends stand in anbsp;comer chanting prip�valn�a p�sni'.

After the party have eaten bread and salt and drunk vodka^ the voplenitsa chants a long poem? which opens with a prayer for blessingnbsp;on the happy pair, but quickly passes into a mournful chant in the firstnbsp;person, as if the bride were herself lamenting the loss of all her girlhood�s pleasures and freedom. Meanwhile the bride sits on a bench apartnbsp;in feigned grief, while the women of her family lament over her, expressing regret at her departure into a family of strangers, after whichnbsp;the bride becomes somewhat more composed and sings yet a furthernbsp;lament (ppiplachka} herself, beginning:

The time for mowing has come, and for hay-making. The season for work is here.�*

Numerous points of ceremonial are observed in succession, each of which is accompanied by its appropriate chant sung by the bride, thenbsp;voplenitsa and other members of the party.

Sometimes after the betrothal two or three vecherinki or �evening parties� (�At Homes�) take place, in which all the bride�s relativesnbsp;assemble, and the bride�s unmarried friends sing songs of lamentationnbsp;and consolation in her presence. On the last evening before the weddingnbsp;her friends unplait and comb her hair and then replait it again, adorningnbsp;it with ribbons ; and during this process, or on the following morning.

the bridegroom�s brother or the tysyatski (i.e. the leader of the bridegroom�s party) enters and bargains for the bride�s plait, her kosa�The sign of her unmarried state. Meanwhile the bride again addresses hernbsp;plait in mournful song. A great many of these X:oja-songs have beennbsp;preserved and have found their way into collections of popular poetry.^nbsp;After the wedding ceremony, which takes place in the church, the youngnbsp;couple proceed to a feast at the house of the bridegroom�s parents, whennbsp;further ceremonies and poetical addresses take place, which continuenbsp;again on the following day, and recur at intervals during the followingnbsp;weeks. Examples of this ceremonial poetry will be found translated bynbsp;Ralston.^

From the literary point of view, among the most interesting aspects of this Russian peasant wedding poetry are its traditional archaic conventions, motifs, and diction. Although it is a common custom for thenbsp;young couple to come together by meeting and taking a liking to onenbsp;another at the posid�lld, or evening parties, or some other recognisednbsp;social gatherings held among the young peasants on summer eveningsnbsp;out of doors, or on winter evenings in an yet many of the songsnbsp;imply that the bridegroom has never seen the bride�s face until thenbsp;betrothal. In this, as in other respects, we see not only the ancientnbsp;traditional motifs in these Russian peasant wedding songs, but also thenbsp;aristocratic milieu in which they originate, and which has never beennbsp;modified in the diction of the poetry recited by the poorer classes on thesenbsp;occasions. Traces of the same aristocratic milieu are also to be found innbsp;the titles knya:^, �prince�, knya^hna, �princess� (unmarried), knyaginya,nbsp;�princess� (married), under which the peasant bride and bridegroom ofnbsp;today are referred to ; in the references to the great riches bestowed onnbsp;the bride�s father as the price of the bride�� towns with their suburbs,nbsp;villages with their estates �, when in reality a small sum of money is allnbsp;that is paid; in the references to the great numbers accompanying thenbsp;bridegroom, with a tysyatski (lit. chief over a thousand men)3 at theirnbsp;head, the total number probably amounting only to ten or twenty of thenbsp;bridegroom�s personal friends.

The diction with which we are familiar from the heroic poems of the Kiev Cycle pervades these songs, which also employ the same metre.

� An example, translated into English, will be found in Ralston, Songs, p. 288.

3 In Yugoslav heroic poems relating to weddings the bridegroom�s party requently consists of a thousand men. Instances may be found in Low, The Balladsnbsp;of Marko Kraljevic, pp. 64, 162, 170. But the bridegrooms are usually princes.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 237 The bride refers to her brother as �fair sun� {krasnoe solnyshko), �brightnbsp;falcon�, etc., and her father tells the matchmaker that he has �a daughter,nbsp;a white swan�. Even in speeches which are recorded by Rybnikov innbsp;prose form, the heroic diction remains unchanged, striking a peculiarlynbsp;artificial and exalted note. Thus the people who first come to woo thenbsp;bride on behalf of the bridegroom�^whether his parents, brothers, ornbsp;professional matchmakers�always announce in the words of Vasilisa innbsp;the poem of Stavr in the Kiev Cycle that they have come � on an honourable mission� dobrym d�lorn}^ viz. �to woo� ({a svatovstvom}d

US SI AN oral poetry is of especial interest, not only for its vast compass, and for the long period of time covered by its subjects,nbsp;L and the early date to which some of the Cycles have reference,nbsp;but also because it has continued as a living art down to our own time.nbsp;New fyliny were composed on contemporary events as late as the reignnbsp;of Tsar Nicholas I, while in remote districts, notably in the region of thenbsp;Great Lakes and in the Province of Archangel, the old byliny relating tonbsp;ancient heroic themes are still recited today. It can hardly be claimednbsp;that the byliny represent an art which is actually in a flourishing condition, or that it is, or has been in modern times, the expression of anbsp;contemporary Heroic Age. The Heroic Age, or Heroic Ages, which, atnbsp;different periods, have been enacted in different parts of the vastnbsp;Empire, are all long past. The byliny composed in modem timesnbsp;represent a traditional form rather than a direct expression of heroicnbsp;conditions.

In modern times the byliny are restricted to peasant circles in backward and remote districts, and this circumstance has inevitably affected their form, and made in some measure for disintegration and decay. Thenbsp;reciters, known as ska^^teli (sing, ska^^itel), are among the poorest andnbsp;most ignorant class of Russian peasantry. We have seen that this wasnbsp;not always so, and that even as late as the beginning of last century thenbsp;byliny and the stikhi, like the Danish ballads in the sixteenth century,nbsp;formed the entertainment of the country gentry and the official classes.nbsp;It is clear from both the style and the internal evidence of the byliny themselves that they did not originate in a peasant milieu. It is only withinnbsp;the last hundred years that they have become restricted to peasant circles.

The great wealth of the byliny, and the peculiar interest which attaches to them as living traditional heroic poetry, invest their recitersnbsp;with especial interest, and we are fortunate in possessing a rich storenbsp;of reliable first-hand information in regard to the recitation of suchnbsp;poetry in Russia. Rybnikov and later collectors have left us much

239 circumstantial detail of the milieu in which he found the byliny recited?nbsp;Rybnikov was an officer in the Russian Civil Service, a chinovnik,nbsp;stationed at Petrozavodsk on Lake Onega. He had reason to believe thatnbsp;byliny relating to the ancient heroes of Russia were not wholly deadnbsp;among the peasants of the Olonets Government, the district which hasnbsp;since come to be known among Russian scholars as the �Iceland� ofnbsp;Russian epic,^ and when in i860 he was ordered to obtain statistics innbsp;that district on behalf of the Government, he was enabled to make persistent enquiries for singers familiar with byliny. He constantly heard ofnbsp;the great reputation of a travelling tailor known as � the Bottle �, who wasnbsp;a famous singer of byliny, and whose work took him throughout thenbsp;whole of the trans-Onega district; but his efforts to find either �thenbsp;Bottle � or other singers were unsuccessful for a long time. The peasantsnbsp;feared and distrusted a chinovnik, and even in that backward region itnbsp;was not easy to come upon people who were actually familiar with poetrynbsp;of the kind he was seeking. Success came unexpectedly one day whennbsp;he and his companions were overtaken by a storm as they were crossingnbsp;Lake Onega in a crazy boat, and took refuge on an island. His accountnbsp;of the romantic incident is as follows :

� On the island there was a smoky shelter, a shed, where in the summer and autumn time, in calm, in contrary, and in stormy weather the peoplenbsp;take shelter at night. Round the wharf were many boats from the northnbsp;of the Onega, and the shelter was full of people to the point of overflowing. To speak the truth, it was excessively smelly and dirty, andnbsp;although it was very cold, I felt no desire to go in and rest. I lay downnbsp;on my bag beside the meagre wood fire, made some tea for myself overnbsp;the embers, drank it, and ate some of my travelling supply, and thennbsp;becoming warmed by the fire, I gradually fell asleep. I was awakenednbsp;by strange sounds. Up to now I had heard many songs and religiousnbsp;poems, but such singing as this I had not heard. Vivacious, fantastic,nbsp;and gay, now it grew quicker, now it slowed down, and recalled by its

� The information in the following pages is largely drawn from Rybnikov�s own account of his experiences in north Russia in the neighbourhood of Lakenbsp;Onega, reprinted in the second edition of his Pesni, i. p. Ixi if. ; also from Gil-ferding�s account of his own experiences, One^hsk�a Byliny, Vol. I; from thenbsp;account of the recent expedition of the brothers Sokolov in the same region published in R.�.S. XII (1932); from Lyatski�s brochure Skcc^itellvan T. Ryabinin i egonbsp;byliny, �The reciter Ivan T. Ryabinin and his byliny� (Moscow, 1895); and fromnbsp;various other studies referred to in the following footnotes and the List of Abbreviations at the end of this Part.

� See Sokolov, R.�.S. xil (1932), p. 202; Slavische Rundschau, Vi (1932), p. 466.

tune something very long ago, forgotten by our generation. For a long time I was unwilling to awaken, and listened to every word of thenbsp;song�so happy was I to remain totally overpowered by this newnbsp;sensation.

As I dozed, I could see that three paces from me some peasants were sitting, and an old man sat singing, with a bushy white beard and brightnbsp;eyes and kindly expression of face. Squatting on his heels beside thenbsp;dying fire, he turned first to one neighbour, dien to another, and sangnbsp;his song {p�sn), breaking off now and then with a smile. When the singernbsp;had finished he began to sing another. Then I made out that he wasnbsp;singing the bylina of�Sadko the Merchant, the Rich Trader�. Needlessnbsp;to say I was on my feet in a moment, and prevailed upon the peasant tonbsp;repeat his song, and wrote it down from his lips. I began to question himnbsp;as to whether he did not know anything else. My new acquaintance,nbsp;Leonti Bogdanovich from the village of Seredka, Kizhski district,nbsp;promised to recite many byliny to me�of Dobrynya Nikitich, Ilya ofnbsp;Murom, Mikhailo Potyk Ivanovich, of the noble Vasili Buslaevich, ofnbsp;Khotenushka Bludovich, of the �Forty and One Kal�ki�, of the heronbsp;Svyatogor; but he knew only incomplete versions, i.e. he could notnbsp;complete the narratives. Consequently I wrote down in the end only suchnbsp;of his byliny as served to supplement other versions by their details, ornbsp;such as offered wholly new matter. For the rest, on the first occasion Inbsp;wrote down somewhat reluctantly and preferred to listen. In the coursenbsp;of time I listened to many rare byliny ; I recollect ancient, superb melodies.nbsp;The singers sang them with exquisite voices and masterly declamation,nbsp;but to be perfectly honest, I never experienced again that fresh sensationnbsp;which the wretched versions of the byliny conveyed to me, sung by thenbsp;broken voice of old Leonti in Shuynavolok.��

Thirty years after Rybnikov had sat listening to old Leonti Bogdanovich on the island in Lake Onega, a lady was present in a crowded Olonets when the Ska-(itamp;l Nikifor Prokhorov (nicknamed Utka),nbsp;was reciting byliny, and she also has left us a rapid sketch of her impression of what took place:

�Utka coughed. Everybody became silent at once. He threw his head back and glanced round with a smile at those present, and seeingnbsp;their impatient, eager, expectant expressions, he at once began to singnbsp;again. Little by little the face of the old singer changed; all its cunningnbsp;disappeared, and it became childlike and na�ve. Something inspirednbsp;appeared in it; the dove-like eyes opened wide, and began to shine. Two

241 little shining tears sparkled in them ; a flush overspread the swarthiness ofnbsp;his cheeks; occasionally his nervous throat twitched.

He lived with his beloved bogatyTV, grieved in tears for the infirmity of Ilya of Murom, when he sat paralysed for thirty years, gloried withnbsp;him in his triumph over Solovey the Robber. Sometimes he broke off ofnbsp;his own accord, interpolating his own remarks. All the people presentnbsp;lived with the heroes of the byliny too. At times an exclamation ofnbsp;wonder involuntarily escaped from one of them; at times the laughter ofnbsp;another resounded through the room. From one fell tears which henbsp;involuntarily brushed away from his lashes. Everybody sat withoutnbsp;winking an eye while the singing was going on. Every sound of thisnbsp;monotonous but wonderfully gentle tune they loved.�'

During the expedition of the Sokolovs to Olonets in 1928-9 they found the peasant singers of today no less devoted to their art, and theynbsp;have left us memorable accounts of the performances of two singers innbsp;particular, the wealthy peasant Konashkov, and the destitute Yakush-kov, the latter the greatest of all singers whose names are on the rollnbsp;of honour as reciters of oral poetry. As soon as the Sokolovs heardnbsp;Konashkov�s recitation of the bylina of Stavr Godinovich they realisednbsp;that they had found a man who knew and loved byliny^ and one whonbsp;had a fine voice and varied melody.

� He did not simply sing the bylina�he enjoyed it. Very often he interrupted the course of his recitation to introduce comments... .In deep silence, quite entranced, we sat and wrote until one o�clock in the morning,nbsp;as the night was a northern �white�, and no artificial light was necessary.nbsp;Weary and contented we lay down on the floor to sleep. Our sail-clothnbsp;covering serving as mattress. At three o�clock we were awakened by thenbsp;impatient reciter. � Stand up ! we will sing some more stariny. Otherwise I must go on the lake.� We were on our legs in a minute. Afternbsp;we had drunk raspberry tea we again sat down to work. The oldnbsp;man did not go to the lake; and again we wrote until the depth ofnbsp;night.�^

The Sokolovs invited Konashkov to come to meet Yakushkov, and induced the two artists to engage in friendly rivalry in singing theirnbsp;byliny�a singing contest which must have required great tact on thenbsp;part of the directors of the function. Meanwhile the phonograph recorded, and the singers were afterwards enabled to hear the reproductionnbsp;of their own rendering.

CL� nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;16

�The reciters greeted one another... .The conversation soon turned on byliny. We began by recording a melody on the phonograph.nbsp;Konashkov sang first. The record was an admirable success.

�Perfect! How it sings the melody! It gives a correct reproduction!� rejoiced Konashkov.

Yakushkov sang next. Whether he was excited, or whether the phonograph functioned badly�whatever the cause, the reproductionnbsp;was very defective.

�Bad,� triumphed Konashkov; �mine went quite smoothly.� Yakushkov was silent.

Then we suggested that they should each in turn sing byliny on the same subject, so that we could make an exact comparison of texts andnbsp;melodies.

Konashkov began by singing the bylina of Stavr Godinovich. He sang as was his wont, with his head slightly inclined towards the right,nbsp;keeping an eye on us to watch what impression he was making.

Yakushkov listened in silence and very attentively. His eyes had a penetrating and sombre expression.

The strangely beautiful melody, and the masterly performance quite abashed his rival, who nevertheless shrugged his shoulders hastily overnbsp;some details in the narrative of the bylina which he had just heard.

�I want to know whatever it is about ? Now why is the terrible tsar here and Nastasya thereIt is supposed to be dealing with Stavr!� Henbsp;turned to us widi a deprecating wave of the hand.

Yakushkov was manifestly taken aback by this remark. �Perhaps I have made a mistake,� said he guiltily.

�I know a starina which takes me a whole half day to sing,� exclaimed Yakushkov. �Do you know the bylina of Ilya and Mikhailo Potyk?�nbsp;Where Mikhailo went down under the earth ?� We decided, however,nbsp;that it would be better to omit byliny of such length from the competition.nbsp;We agreed on the romantic bylina of Churilo and Katerina.

Again Konashkov sang first. He sang interestingly and smoothly, but to a monotonous tune.

And he rendered this strange bylina in a loud voice and with an extremely vivacious, varied and original melody.

Konashkov saw himself beaten. He began to carp at certain words. �You make the counterpane of silk, whereas I make it of sables. I callnbsp;the old man Velma Grigorevich; what about you?�

Konashkov was mollified and they came to an agreement.... 'Byliny are sung variously.�

In spite of all his ambition and rivalry, Konashkov listened to Yakushkov�s performance with pleasure. Although he was severalnbsp;times called home to dinner, yet he did not go until he had heard thenbsp;bylina of Dobrynya and the Dragon to the end.

Finally when he was obliged to go he again turned back almost immediately to say to Yakushkov: �Sing them the poorest ones in the meantime, and wait with the best until I come back.�

The competition between the two reciters was taken up afresh later, and for a long time they spread their treasures before us, and althoughnbsp;there was no doubt which of the two was the greater artist, we listenednbsp;to their performance with the same absorption.�^

The byliny are generally sung, or rather recited, in a kind of recitative, wherever the peasants are gathered together�in inns, round camp fires,nbsp;in one another�s huts. They are frequently sung in Olonets in annbsp;or peasant�s wooden hut, crowded with eager listeners, who sit about onnbsp;the bedstead, the wooden benches, the table, indeed wherever they cannbsp;find room. No instrument is in use in Olonets, though in Perm, in thenbsp;southern Urals, as well as in Simbirsk and elsewhere, the byliny are sungnbsp;to the accompaniment of the balalaika and other stringed instruments.^nbsp;The singers of Olonets are called ska^iteli, i.e. lit. �story-tellers�,nbsp;�narrators�; but the tradition of musical accompaniment is clearlynbsp;indicated in the current expression �to sing {p�t) a bylina'.

In general few tunes are known to any singer. The elder Ryabinin, one of the best of the singers of byliny, knew only two tunes ; another ofnbsp;the best singers, Kuzma Romanov, knew only three; �the Bottle�,nbsp;another good singer, knew only one.3 Yakushkov, the greatest of allnbsp;singers of byliny, however, had a different tune to almost every bylina,

� The article of Delange and Malherbe in Lavignac�s Encyclop�die de la Musique, Vol. V, part I, p. 2486 ff., contains some interesting notes and pictures of the musicalnbsp;instruments.

and he recited 37 to Sokolov in 1928-9. Lyatski, writing in 1895, says that musical specialists who had listened to the younger Ryabinin, hadnbsp;not succeeded in obtaining any reliable versions of the tunes.� Specimensnbsp;of these tunes, so far as they are capable of notation by our modernnbsp;system of scales, were recorded by Kirsha Danilov,� and, more recently,nbsp;by Lyatski himself.3 In our own time, however, the phonographnbsp;records taken by the brothers Sokolov should form the basis for anbsp;scientific analysis in the future. Undoubtedly the tunes retain somenbsp;earlier system of scales than that which is in general modem use.

The tunes are said to be in general very monotonous. Speaking of the reciters of Olonets, Mazon tells us that �Le chanteur.. .chantenbsp;d�une voix lente, souvent un peu tra�nante, � la mani�re rituelle d�unnbsp;chantre d��glise; la m�lodie, d�une grande simplicit� et infiniment monotone, donne une impression d�antiquit� saisissante: on s�imagine report�nbsp;� quelques si�cles en arri�re.�4 Nevertheless there is a considerablenbsp;amount of variation in the rendering of the tunes. Rybnikov found thatnbsp;the same musical theme was very bright if accompanying the story ofnbsp;Stavr, melancholy for Mikhailo Potyk, solemn for Volga and Mikula.5nbsp;The elder Ryabinin held that the bylina of Stavr must be chantednbsp;rather heavily {tolshche), that of Mikhailo Potyk lightly �tonshe). Kuzmanbsp;Romanov is said to have sung on three notes only, yet the vibrations ofnbsp;his voice enabled him to vary his singing to an astonishing extent.^

The singers of the Olonets district, both men fskaiiteligt;) and women {skaiitelnitsy\ are mostly peasants, but it is interesting to observe thatnbsp;they are not as a rule primarily agriculturists. They belong for thenbsp;most part to the artizan class, and are occupied in net-making, fishing,nbsp;inn-keeping, tailoring, etc. Gilferding gives the people�s own explanation of this fact:

� The peasants themselves explained to me that, sitting for a long time in one spot at monotonous work sewing or plaiting nets, they felt a wishnbsp;to sing stariny, and they then easily mastered them. On the other handnbsp;the krestyanstyo (i.e. agriculture) and other heavy work not only doesnbsp;not allow time for this, but it deadens in the memory even what theynbsp;have committed to memory and sung in the past. For the rest, the

3 Lyatski, ad fin. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;See Mazon, Bylines, p. 682.

� At the present day the Carmelite nuns in our own country sing only on four notes. Yet no sense of monotony is felt by the listener, and the music seemsnbsp;infinitely varied.

245 reader must bear in mind that the arts of which I speak are by no meansnbsp;the only ones practised by those who sing byliny. Each of them is atnbsp;times an agriculturist, and works in summer at his peasant farming.nbsp;The difference is merely that in their spare time in winter they busynbsp;themselves with such arts as are favourable to the preservation of epicnbsp;poems, while the practice of others, and especially �f hunting, forestnbsp;labour, carting, etc. does not allow leisure for rhapsody.��

The peasants, however, are not the only people who sing by liny. Gilferding says further:

�They told me that the wife of the priest of the place, a worthy person,... was a native of the place, and she and her sister, having beennbsp;forbidden by their father, a very strict man, to sing Christmas andnbsp;dancing songs, had learnt byliny from an old peasant tailor, to pass thenbsp;time.��

She still remembered many of these byliny in later life and recited them to Gilferding.

On the other hand the internal evidence of the byliny is overwhelmingly in favour of the belief that they circulated in early times in a wealthy and, in some degree at least, an aristocratic milieu. Much of thisnbsp;evidence has already been considered in the chapter on the heroicnbsp;milieu, where it has been shown that the minstrel presupposes in hisnbsp;audience aristocratic tastes, and familiarity with a life of luxury andnbsp;leisure. We may refer once more to the frequency with which the bylinynbsp;open with a great feast, and details of rich food and drink. We shallnbsp;presently have occasion to refer also to one or two of the instances innbsp;which the poet addresses his audience directly, and from which we maynbsp;deduce some definite facts regarding both the minstrel himself, and thenbsp;audience before whom these particular versions were recited.

It is not easy to draw a clear distinction between the author and the reciter of a bylina today.3 Each recitation is, in some measure, anbsp;creative work. Gilferding observed that among the peasants of Lakenbsp;Onega a singer never sang a bylina twice alike.He tells us that innbsp;general the speeches of the heroes are remembered and transmittednbsp;verbally, and these vary less. On the other hand the narrative is notnbsp;remembered by heart, but reconstituted afresh with each recitation fromnbsp;the singer�s fund of epic material. In neither respect is usage consistent

however. The bylina of Volga, as recited by Kuzma Romanov to Rybnikov, consists of 187 lines, whereas the same bylina recited by thenbsp;same singer to Gilferding consists of 206 lines, more than half thenbsp;difference being accounted for by variation in the speeches contained innbsp;the poems.* On the whole, however, the two byliny differ surprisinglynbsp;little considering the period of time which had elapsed between the twonbsp;recitations. On the other hand the text of the bylina of �Volga andnbsp;Mikula� as recited to Rybnikov by the elder Ryabinin varies considerably from the same bylina recited by the same singer to Gilferding.�nbsp;When Konashkov asked Yakushkov why he sang some byliny withnbsp;different details from himself, Yakushkov replied: �Everyone sings afternbsp;his own fashion.�3

The poetry of the skaitteli of north Russia is, indeed, of particular value to students of oral poetry as representing a stage intermediatenbsp;between exact verbal tradition and extempore composition. The recitersnbsp;are not creative poets in the strict sense of the term. Yet extemporenbsp;composition is widely practised. The artistic process in the mind of thenbsp;singer, and the large extempore element in his performance are greatlynbsp;facilitated by the conventional character of the poetry. We have alreadynbsp;seen, both in the chapter on the ^Byliny' and also in the chapter on � Thenbsp;Texts�, that static adjectives, static formulae, and static phrases�thenbsp;latter often of considerable length�are extensively used throughout thenbsp;byliny. But the static elements are not confined to these features. Theynbsp;are equally evident in the actual incidents which form the very texturenbsp;of the byliny. These consist of a limited range of incidents, themes andnbsp;motifs, which recur constantly in varying combinations, like thenbsp;tesserae of a mosaic. (Thus the elder Ryabinin is said when reciting tonbsp;have �combined various ready-made motifs, and to have worked themnbsp;up afresh, in one place heightening the colour, in another omitting onenbsp;or two details.�^

The conventional character of the treatment as a whole has been carefully analysed by V. F. Miller in two papers on the composition andnbsp;recitation of the byliny.^ In addition to the purely verbal conventionsnbsp;and epic formulae, he points out that the entire narrative is composed

� Cf. Rybnikov, i. p. 10 ff. (Dormidontov, p. 219 ff.) with Gilferding, ii. p. 5 ff. Rybnikov�s version is translated by Chadwick, p, 44 ff.

247 of a series of conventions, stock situations described in static terminology,nbsp;which are introduced in various combinations. He further distinguishesnbsp;local peculiarities in the conventions employed in the byliny, pointing tonbsp;local schools of composition. He quotes as an instance a conventionalnbsp;opening which does not occur in a single bylina from Olonets in thenbsp;collections of either Rybnikov or Gilferding, but which is found in thenbsp;byliny from Simbirsk.^

The process of composition has been admirably described in the recent paper on byliny by Prof. Mazon to which we have referrednbsp;already:

�La byline est comme une mati�re molle dont le chanteur, suivant sa personnalit�, fait ce qu�il veut. Le chanteur est en quelque mani�re unnbsp;improvisateur. Il dispose d�un sujet et d�un certain nombre d��pisodesnbsp;et de formules typiques propres � ce sujet (par exemple, telle d�clarationnbsp;invariable du h�ros) : c�est l� le fond auquel il ne peut gu�re toucher, �nbsp;moins qu�il n�emm�le deux sujets ou que, par confusion, il ne transportenbsp;un ou plusieurs �pisodes d�un sujet � un autre, ou bien encore qu�il nenbsp;modifie, par son interpr�tation personnelle, le sens original d�un �pisode.nbsp;Mais � c�t� de ce fond presque immuable, il dispose aussi d�un arsenal denbsp;parties mobiles dont il use � sa guise: pr�lude (^pr�bautka}, entr�e ennbsp;mati�re (:[acAzn), formules � �pith�tes d�une constance hom�rique,nbsp;sc�nes toutes faites le h�ros selle son cheval, la m�re donne sa b�n�dictionnbsp;au h�ros qui s�en va, le h�ros lance une fl�che, la rencontre d�une jeunenbsp;fille, le salut du passant au h�ros, le m�me d�un festin, les vanteriesnbsp;apr�s boire, etc., etc... .L�art du chanteur se mesure, pour une bonnenbsp;part, � l�usage qu�il sait faire des parties mobiles.

TTie �parties mobiles�, as Mazon calls the stock situations which recur in various combinations in the byliny, have recently been made thenbsp;subject of a study by V. Rzhiga, who shows that they are themselvesnbsp;subject to modification according to the milieu in which they are found.nbsp;Thus the �parties mobiles� and the static formulae of the byliny found innbsp;the collection of Kirsha Danilov, while they bear a general resemblancenbsp;to those of the modern collections, yet differ in some interesting particulars. In Kirsha�s collection the heroes not unfrequently drinknbsp;hydromel from an aurochs horn�a feature borrowed from conditionsnbsp;of life in pre-Tatar Russia; whereas in the modern collections thisnbsp;feature occurs only once. Again, in Kirsha�s versions the hero does notnbsp;saddle his own steed; this duty is performed for him by his squire, and

the fact is, in general, briefly noted. In the modern versions, which have been affected in this, as in other matters, by the peasant milieu in whichnbsp;they now circulate, the hero generally performs this office for himself,nbsp;and the reciter expends a wealth of detail on each stage of the process.^nbsp;Despite the conventional and static character of the byliny, there cannbsp;be no doubt that the personality of the reciter colours to some extentnbsp;the character of his narrative. A man of a passionate temperament isnbsp;said to emphasise the warlike incidents and expressions, accompanyingnbsp;his recitation with great force and bravura of manner, while one of anbsp;gentler temperament tends to tone down the narrative. Gilferding tellsnbsp;us� that the kal�ka Ivan Feponov, generally known as � blind Ivan �,3 whennbsp;reciting byliny, tended to give a religious colouring to his narratives,nbsp;representing the heroes as constantly praying to God (cf. also p. 137 ff',nbsp;above). Mazon,* citing Boris Sokolov, notes that �Tel chanteur.. .estnbsp;si d�vot que les h�ros de ses bylines n�entreprennent rien sans forcenbsp;signes de croix et pieuses inclinations; tel autre, pareillement d�vot,nbsp;farcit les bylines de mots d��glise; tel autre, qui fut domestique en sanbsp;jeunesse, ne manque pas de faire s�arr�ter ses h�ros dans l�anti-chambre;nbsp;tel autre, qui est tailleur, fait sauter la t�te d�Idolishche, le Pa�en, sousnbsp;les coups d�Ilya �comme le bouton d�un v�tement��. The personalnbsp;element in the byliny, however, though undoubtedly present, is never innbsp;great evidence.

More important than the potential variation of a given bylina is its constant entity. But since the byliny differ in some degree with everynbsp;fresh recitation, and since its potential variation is almost unlimited, thisnbsp;constant entity is very difficult to define. When we are told that Potapnbsp;Antonov learnt his byliny from his grandfather, and the elder Ryabininnbsp;from Kokatin, what exactly are we to suppose that they learnt.^ Certainlynbsp;not the exact words, nor the motifs, nor the exact order of events, fornbsp;these are all variable. It was not even the story, for this also varies, notnbsp;merely by omission and transposition of events, but also in their selection and combination. It would seem, then, that what one singernbsp;transmits to another is in the first place the bylina technique, and in thenbsp;second, the sphere of action within which the hero�s activity is confined,nbsp;the group of activities to which he may be committed, the outstandingnbsp;traits of character which he may exhibit, the milieu, in the narrowernbsp;sense, as apart from the Cycle, to which he belongs. When a pupil hasnbsp;been initiated into this knowledge his equipment is complete. Establishednbsp;� Rzhiga, R.�.S. xni (1933), p. 213.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� See Gilferding, i. p. 32.

3 /b. p. 413. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Bylines, p. 684.

249 tradition, contemporary practice, and his individual talent are henceforth his only guides and his only checks. He will know certainly whatnbsp;his hero may not do, what episodes he may enact and those from whichnbsp;he is excluded; which heroes may come to his aid and which may failnbsp;him; how his hero may be expected to act, and the kind of remarksnbsp;which he may make. He will know, in fact�and this is all important�nbsp;the nucleus of the various stories associated with each of his heroes.

Gilferding, who probably heard a larger number of byliny of the early cycles in a shorter time than any other collector, was particularlynbsp;struck by the extreme fidelity of the ancient traditions�traditionsnbsp;which had consistently preserved the typical features of each of thenbsp;individual heroes, and the principal incidents of the stories with whichnbsp;each is associated; Churilo Plenkovich, Mikhailo Potyk, Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich, Alyosha Popovich, and the rest. Throughout the variantnbsp;versions, and throughout the many stories in which they play theirnbsp;parts, they are rarely found, as we have observed already, to depart fromnbsp;their own particular characteristics or functions, or to encroach on onenbsp;another�s spheres.^ It has already been pointed out that the poemsnbsp;contain frequent references to plants and animals unfamiliar to peoplenbsp;living in the far north, e.g. the �stout oaks�, the �aurochs��an animalnbsp;of the open grasslands of the south, extinct in modem times�thenbsp;�feather-grass� which is characteristic of the steppe, and which isnbsp;referred to more appropriately in the early work, the Slovo o Polkynbsp;Igorev�. Indeed the life described is that of the open steppe-lands of thenbsp;south, and not of the northern forests, and these conservative featuresnbsp;can only be due to the long and retentive memories of many generationsnbsp;of ska7jteli.

Again, as we have seen (p. 122 above), words and phrases are frequently retained of which all meaning has been forgotten in the south, and which represent conditions of life long superseded anywhere. Anbsp;particularly interesting example is the word polenitsa, which was longnbsp;glossed incorrectly in dictionaries as �giant�, but which the peasants ofnbsp;the Onega district all know to mean a female warrior or amazon.� Innbsp;matters of this kind the byliny are exceedingly conservative. Gilferdingnbsp;found that whenever he questioned either singer or audience about anbsp;word not in common use in their province, the answer which he invariably received was: �So it is sung�, �So the people of the past sangnbsp;it, but we do not know what it means.� Occasionally a ska-(itd, singingnbsp;some poem of Prince Vladimir which was very disrespectful to him,

* Gilferding, I. p. 24 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. i. p. 30.

asked to be excused for this��For we know ourselves that it is not right to speak in this way of a saint � but what can we do? Our fathersnbsp;sang it so, and we received it so from them.��

The poems vary greatly in length. In general, as we have seen, those which relate to the early period are longer than those of more modernnbsp;date, and as we approach our own time the byliny grow briefer. Those ofnbsp;recent origin are generally comparatively short, the majority consistingnbsp;of less than a hundred lines, though many, of course, are longer. On thenbsp;other hand it is to be observed that great freedom is allowed in thenbsp;recitation.3 A poem as recited by one minstrel may consist of elevennbsp;hundred lines,'^ while another will recite what appears to be in nucleusnbsp;the same poem in loo; or, more frequently, he will select only certainnbsp;episodes from the many which relate to a given hero, and recombinenbsp;them into a single briefer bylina. Very often a single episode constitutesnbsp;a complete bylina.^ The disparity in length between one bylina andnbsp;another is often to be largely accounted for by the amount of repetitionnbsp;which they contain. Vsevolod Miller estimated that in the long bylinynbsp;the repetitions constitute no less than a third of the whole.** Suchnbsp;liberal use of repetition must have been of the greatest assistance innbsp;extempore composition.

Gilferding made the interesting observation that the singers all over north Russia, and in particular around Lake Onega, were divided intonbsp;two groups. In the villages to the west of the lake the poems werenbsp;always longer, and the lines generally consisted of seven, eight, or ninenbsp;feet (ytopy, sing, stopa). In those to the north-east, repetitions andnbsp;digressions were avoided. The poems were much shorter, and the linesnbsp;generally consisted of five or six feet.7 Within these groups he distinguished further schools with their own particular usages in diction andnbsp;style, and their own vogues with regard to the choice of heroes to be

3 See Rybnikov, i. p. xciv f. An interesting instance of the free use made of the poetical material by the skas^itel E. T. Ryabinin will be found on p. 9 ff. of the papernbsp;by Lyatski to which reference has already been made.

See e.g. the text of the bylina on Dobrynya Nikitich as recited by Kalinin, Gilferding, i. p. 31 ff.

5 See e.g. the text of the bylina relating the marriage of Dobrynya�s wife during his absence, as recorded by Chukov (�the Bottle�), Rybnikov, I. p- 162 ff.

251 celebrated/ Lyatski also points out that the singers of the Kizhsknbsp;�school� (in particular the younger Ryabinin, Ivan T.) concentrated innbsp;their byliny on the outline of the narrative; those of the Tolvuisknbsp;�school� (e.g. Kalinin) gave much attention to the details of the story,nbsp;with full epic diction and picturesque colouring? It is interesting tonbsp;note that Russian scholars, such as Lyatski and others, who have madenbsp;a close study of different singers and their technique, are of the opinionnbsp;that liberal use of �epic� features�epithets, similes, figurative speech,nbsp;repetitions, etc.�are chiefly made use of by singers of defective memorynbsp;in order to gain time for thought. Singers like the elder Ryabinin, whonbsp;recall and follow unhesitatingly the outline of their narrative, have nonbsp;need of such devices, and use them more sparingly.

The Russian ska:(tte.l can vie with the best of the Yugoslav minstrels in the extent of their r�pertoires and the length of their recitals. The minstrelsnbsp;of our own day appear even to excel those of last century. The best ofnbsp;the earlier reciters, the elder Ryabinin, recited nineteen byliny to Gil-ferding, comprising in all more than 5000 lines. During the expeditionnbsp;of the Sokolov brothers to the Onega district in 1926-8, F. A. Konash-kov also sang nineteen byliny, some of which were very long. The recitation of his bylina on Ilya Muromets lasted more than two hours. Thenbsp;finest r�pertoire on record, however, is that of Yakushkov, who, duringnbsp;the same expedition of the Sokolovs, sang thirty-seven byliny, consistingnbsp;in all of some ten thousand lines.He recited to the Sokolovs continuously for three days and nights, with only very brief pauses, andnbsp;even at the end of this time they were convinced that his r�pertoire wasnbsp;not exhausted. His bylina of Mikhailo Potyk alone filled a whole halfnbsp;day. Yakushkov was also quite remarkable in the range of his tunes.nbsp;As already stated, he sang almost every bylina to a different air.5

We know of no evidence which might lead us to suppose that the ska:(iteli of modern times ever compose poems on new subjects. Theirnbsp;r�pertoires seem to be restricted to subjects of past history, though theynbsp;sometimes recite byliny which narrate comparatively recent events, andnbsp;also stikhi.^

The byliny are all anonymous. We do not know the name of the author of a single bylina. There are no secular professional minstrels innbsp;north Russia. The communities are too poor to support such a class,nbsp;especially in the Olonets district. Indeed there does not appear to be

� Ib., op. cit. p. 37 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Lyatski, p. 22.

3 Ib. p. 2t. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�* Slavische Rundschau, iv ('10-52'). o. 468.

5 Ib. 5p. 471 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. p. 473-

anywhere in Great Russia an extensive class of what we should call secular professional minstrels, i.e. people who earn their living exclusively by minstrelsy. A high degree of specialisation exists, however,nbsp;and we have seen that certain singers enjoy a relatively high reputation.nbsp;Wherever Rybnikov went in his search for byliny in the Olonetsnbsp;district, he heard of a singer called �the Bottle� (cf. p. 239 above), whonbsp;travelled from district to district in pursuit of his trade as a travellingnbsp;tailor, and who was a famous singer of hyliny} From him Rybnikovnbsp;took down many byliny?� Among the great names of ska-^iteli we maynbsp;instance the elder (Trofim G.) and the younger (Ivan T.) Ryabinin,nbsp;father and son, and their descendants in our own generation; andnbsp;also Konashkov and Yakushkov from the same region; Tupitsyn thenbsp;Siberian; and Marya Krivopol�nova from Archangel.3

Sometimes the reciters are blind. We may instance Ivan Feponov, Kuzma Romanov and Petr Kornilov, from Olonets. Frequently the artnbsp;of singing byliny is handed on from father to son. Thus Ilya Elustafevnbsp;bequeathed his art and his repertoire to his son lev, and he in turn to hisnbsp;son Terenti levlev. Being himself something of a public entertainernbsp;among the peasants, Ilya had other pupils as well as his own descendants.nbsp;Among them were Kuzma Romanov and Trofim (the �elder�) Ryabinin, who were two of the best singers of byliny when Rybnikov andnbsp;Gilferding visited Olonets. The last four generations of the Ryabininnbsp;family have all been skayteli�the fourth still reciting when' Sokolovnbsp;visited Kizhi on Lake Onega in 1926-7.'^ Potap Antonov, an old man ofnbsp;seventy, who also recited byliny in Pudoga to both Rybnikov and Gilferding, had learnt his byliny from his grandfather, who died at the age ofnbsp;ninety-seven. His grandfather had learnt them from a blind kal�ka,nbsp;Mina Efimov, who had travelled much and had been in Moscow, and itnbsp;was in Moscow, according to Antonov�s account, that he had acquirednbsp;his byliny. This Mina enjoyed a great reputation for his wisdom.nbsp;Antonov remembered him in his childhood. He had died sixty yearsnbsp;previously.5

During the expedition of the brothers Yuri and Boris Sokolov to the districts in which Rybnikov and Gilferding had collected their bylinynbsp;(that is to say, in the north-east of what was known at that time as thenbsp;Government of Olonets, but which now constitutes the autonomousnbsp;Soviet Republic of Carelia) they found that the region of Pudoga is

� Rybnikov, i. p. Ivi. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ih. pp- Ivi, Ixxxiv, xci.

3 Mazon, Bylines, p. 684. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�gt; Sokolov, R.�.S. xii (1932), p. 203.

253 today, as it was formerly, the chief refuge of the byliny. They attributenbsp;its present pre-eminence to the great ska^^iteli of the days of Rybnikovnbsp;and Gilferding, who may be said to have established a � school It isnbsp;represented in our own day by a few great singers such as F. A. Konash-kov, and more especially G. A. Yakushkov? The latter died suddenlynbsp;in 1929 at the age of sixty-nine, when he was preparing to assist Yurinbsp;Sokolov in a series of conferences in Paris, Berlin, and Prague. Konash-kov recited in 1929 and 1930 in Moscow and Leningrad. The names ofnbsp;these singers, add the Sokolovs (to whom we are indebted for this information), may henceforward be inscribed in the history of the bylinynbsp;in succession to those of the Ryabinins.�

Konashkov, an old man of seventy who is still alive, is a fisherman, and not badly off as things go in that district. He learnt his own byliny as anbsp;child from his grandfather and his uncle. He tells Sokolov that bylinynbsp;have been sung in his family for 300 years, since the time of Ivan thenbsp;Terrible. �They have been handed down from generation to generation.� His grandfather and uncle were obviously very good reciters, fornbsp;Konashkov declares that more than thirty fishermen used to collect innbsp;their i:^a to listen to their recitations.3 Konashkov�s own r�pertoirenbsp;comprises not only byliny, but also wedding and ceremonial songs (cf.nbsp;p. 287 below) and stikhi, and his skill in improvisation and knowledgenbsp;of traditional practice make him greatly in demand on ceremonialnbsp;occasions in the Russian peasant life of his district.

The greatest of all the ska:(iteli was Grigori Aleks�evich Yakushkov. He was one of the poorest of men. His parents died early, and the childnbsp;was cast adrift on the world very young. His byliny have an excellentnbsp;pedigree, though it is not confined, like Konashkov�s, to his own family.nbsp;He was steeped in the love and knowledge of byliny himself, which evennbsp;in his childhood had a great fascination for him. He attributed thenbsp;singular riches of his r�pertoire chiefly to the fact that in his wanderingsnbsp;he had come into contact with the three best reciters in the Oneganbsp;district, recit�rs famous in the collections of Rybnikov and Gilferding.nbsp;His first teacher of byliny was his uncle on his mother�s side, P. T. Antonov, whom Gilferding had known as an old man of 70. We havenbsp;already seen that Antonov had learnt them from his centenariannbsp;grandfather, and he in his turn from the famous reciter, the blind kal�ka

� Portraits of both these singers are given in the article by Boris Sokolov already cited: �Zwei Bylinerrezitatoren�, in Slavische Rundschau, iv (1932), p. 465 ff.

Mina. Thus it is clear that Yakushkov�s byliny go back to the beginning of the eighteenth century. As a child Yakushkov also learnt byliny fromnbsp;Nikifor Prokhorov, or Utka as he was called (cf. p. 240 f. above), a finenbsp;reciter who also lived to be close on a hundred years of age. �I filchednbsp;money from my father,� declared Yakushkov, �and took it to him sonbsp;that he would sing for me.� Finally he learnt a few byliny from Ivannbsp;Feponov the blind kal�ka, who sang religious poems (ytikhi) and bylinynbsp;for alms. �He had a powerful voice.� Yakushkov�s comment onnbsp;Feponov�s voice is interesting because the exceptionally powerful voicesnbsp;of the kal�ki are always emphasised in the byliny. It is also especially interesting to note that two of Yakushkov�s three teachers sang for money,nbsp;and that the byliny of two of his three teachers constituted the r�pertoiresnbsp;of kal�ki (i.e. those of Antonov and Feponov).� It is not surprisingnbsp;that Yakushkov himself sang stikhi in addition to byliny�thoughnbsp;unwillingly�.^

The singing of byliny is by no means confined to those who have made a special study of the art, however. Rybnikov observed that innbsp;many parts of the country round Lake Onega, every intelligent old mannbsp;carried one or two byliny in his memory. 3 Gilferding found that almostnbsp;all the peasants, including the women, knew some byliny.During thenbsp;recent visit of the Sokolov brothers to the same district they ascertainednbsp;that during the sixty years which have elapsed since the visit of thenbsp;pioneer collectors �les bylines, ou tout au moins certaines d�entre elles,nbsp;sont devenues un bien plus largement commun, qui a cess� d��trenbsp;l�apanage de quelques chanteurs forts de leur exp�rience et de leurnbsp;ma�trise, et peu � peu, a pass� � la foule. Le fait est confirm� par lenbsp;nombre m�me des chanteurs qui a presque tripl� On the other handnbsp;they found that the number of subjects treated in the byliny had dwindlednbsp;during the intervals, and, moreover, that the extent of the individualnbsp;r�pertoires had become smaller. �Le genre de la byline a gagn� en diffusion, mais sa vitalit� productrice ne s�est pas accrue.��^

The Sokolovs also ascertained^ that the proportion of women reciters had greatly increased since Gilferding�s researches were made. Gilferding recorded byliny from only nine women singers, whereas thenbsp;Sokolovs recorded in 1926-8 from eighty-five. It is calculated that

� Feponov�s own teacher of byliny was one M�schchaninov, a singer with an exceptionally fine r�pertoire consisting of some 70 byliny. (Rybnikov, ii. p. 499.)

� Slavische Rundschau, loc. cit. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 j, p. ci.

2�5 in Gilferding�s time the proportion of women singers to men wasnbsp;eighteen per cent., as against sixty-three per cent, in 1926-8. It is to benbsp;remembered, however, in considering these figures, that Gilferding�snbsp;reciters for the most part came to recite to him in his hut, whereas the recorders in the Sokolov expeditions travelled through the various villages,nbsp;and visited the singers in their own homes. It seems to us that by thisnbsp;method the recent expedition would naturally increase the proportion ofnbsp;byliny recorded from women, since it would in general be more difficultnbsp;for the women to leave their homes than the men; and those whosenbsp;r�pertoires were confined to one or two byliny would hardly be likelynbsp;to think it worth while to do so. The figures are therefore possiblynbsp;somewhat misleading, though the proportion of women reciters maynbsp;have increased to some extent ; and this would seem to be borne out bynbsp;the increase in the proportion of baht stariny recorded in 1926-8, andnbsp;the decrease in the number of heroic byliny.

The custom with regard to payment varies greatly. Rybnikov observed that in the boat on Lake Onega the peasants gladly took turns to do Leonti�s share of the rowing in order to persuade him to sing tonbsp;them.� Indeed he noticed that where money was not offered thenbsp;peasants generally took turns to do the singer�s share of the labour innbsp;order to get a song from him. Sometimes payment was made in kind.nbsp;Both Rybnikov and Gilferding found that money was frequentlynbsp;refused by some singers, whereas others demanded a fixed price of sonbsp;much per song. Rybnikov found that in the country round Onega thenbsp;ska'�.teli sang for the love of their art, in contradistinction to the kal�ki,nbsp;who sang as a profession and as a means of obtaining a livelihood.�nbsp;Gilferding remarks that the only ska:(itel whom he met in north Russianbsp;who regarded himself as a professional singer was Kuzma Romanov,nbsp;who set a price on his byliny.^ It has already been stated, however,nbsp;that Yakushkov used as a child to give money to Nikifor Prokhorov innbsp;order to induce him to sing byliny to him, and the same ska7j.te.l toldnbsp;Sokolov that the blind kaleka, Ivan Feponov, also sang byliny for alms,nbsp;in addition to stikhi. This graded custom with regard to paymentnbsp;probably corresponded to the varying degrees of specialisation as muchnbsp;as to the financial circumstances of poet and audience. Those skat^telinbsp;whose poems had their price, such as Kuzma Romanov and Ilyanbsp;Elustafev, and others already mentioned, still retain many of the characteristics of professional performers, though Ilya�s chief source ofnbsp;livelihood was fishing.

Rybnikov, I. p. Ixxxix. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. I. p. ci. Cf. also ib. p. Ixxxix.

The byliny are all carried on by oral tradition. There appears to be no evidence that any of the poems have been derived in the first instancenbsp;from written sources, and scarcely any of the singers can read or write,nbsp;nor can they refer to any known authors of the poems. They recitenbsp;merely what they have heard from one another. Very rarely we hearnbsp;that someone has formed a manuscript collection, but only as anbsp;mnemonic for himself. This was done by Kokatin, an innkeeper in Stnbsp;Petersburg, who taught Ryabinin some of his songs.

So far we have considered only the modern evidence relating to the recitation of the byliny. We have seen that in modern times the bylinynbsp;are recited almost exclusively by peasants to a peasant audience. Wenbsp;have seen also that there is no evidence for supposing that the peasantsnbsp;ever compose the stories or themes of the byliny^ though the act ofnbsp;recitation is always in some measure a creative process, and is inseparablenbsp;from the art of extempore composition. This applies, of course, only tonbsp;a bylina in what we may regard as its final stages. The nucleus of eachnbsp;bylina, from which the several variants derive their source, was composed in the past. The modern singer selects his theme from a circumscribed r�pertoire of known and approved motifs. The style of presentation alone varies. We know of no evidence for the composition of newnbsp;themes relating to the past among the peasants who recite byliny innbsp;modern times. Byliny composed on modern themes are assimilated tonbsp;the ancient tradition, fitted to the old framework, tricked out in the oldnbsp;heroic diction, often, as we have seen, with bizarre and even ludicrousnbsp;results. But of the authorship of either the modern or the ancient byliny,nbsp;or of the circumstances under which any bylina- has been composed, wenbsp;know absolutely nothing, either from the internal evidence of the bylinynbsp;themselves or from external sources.

Taking into account the absence of creative ability among the peasant singers, combined with the elaborate and highly artificial diction of anbsp;strictly conventional character, and the rigidly conventional framework,nbsp;we may be sure that we must look elsewhere, and among people of anbsp;more specialised training, for the original authors of the byliny. Thesenbsp;features suggest, indeed, that the original byliny composed bynbsp;professional minstrels, and were transmitted to their present humblenbsp;milieu in comparatively modern times. The evidence of the bylinynbsp;themselves can teach us something as to the milieu in which they circulated in the past, though the value of literary evidence of this kind isnbsp;particularly difficult to estimate, and is full of pitfalls. Historical sources

257 also have something to tell us of the minstrels and entertainers ofnbsp;Russia from the sixteenth century onwards. From such evidence as wenbsp;have, therefore, we will proceed to state what we can deduce as to thenbsp;conditions in which the byliny have developed. Our conclusion, however, will at best be a balance of probabilities, and the results must benbsp;regarded as conjectural and provisional.

We will consider first the evidence of the byliny themselves. We are well aware, as we have said, of the danger of literary evidence of thisnbsp;kind, and if Prince Mirsky were correct in associating the style of thenbsp;byliny with Byzantine models,�' and in deriving their acquaintance withnbsp;Kiev and Prince Vladimir from written sources,� it would not be easy tonbsp;prove that the information furnished by the byliny relates to minstrelsynbsp;as it was actually practised on Russian soil. Yet even allowing, withnbsp;Stasov, for the introduction of certain Oriental elements, and, withnbsp;Mirsky, for the influence of Byzantine themes and style, the picturesnbsp;which the byliny present are on the whole too much in accord withnbsp;historical record and local conditions to be so lightly dismissed. Withnbsp;this subject we have already dealt and we will therefore pass on to anbsp;brief examination of the evidence which the byliny afford us as to theirnbsp;own history.

The byliny contain no references to authorship or to the composition of byliny, but they have several allusions to recitation and minstrelsy.nbsp;None of the heroes of the so-called �Early Cycle� are represented asnbsp;practising minstrelsy, but a number of the heroes of the Kiev Cyclenbsp;appear to have played the gusli and sung songs. At Kiev, as in Heorot innbsp;the Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf, and in Scheria in the Odyssey, thenbsp;feast is the favourite occasion for such recitations. When Dobrynyanbsp;Nikitich disguises himself as a skomorokh (entertainer; see p. 261 below)nbsp;and returns to Kiev, he sings to the accompaniment of the gusli at thenbsp;wedding feast in which his own wife Nastasya is about to be married bynbsp;Prince Vladimir�s orders to Alyosha Popovich.

He began to wander over the strings. He began to lift up his voice...nbsp;And all who were at the feast sat still and grew silent,nbsp;They sat and watched the skomorokh...nbsp;And everyone at the table became pensive.nbsp;And everyone listened to his playing...nbsp;Such playing had never been heard in the world.nbsp;In the white world, the like playing had never been known...

* S.R. III. p. 89. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ib. p. 78, footnote i.

CLii nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;,7

So that every one, even princes and boyars, Even those Russian heroes.nbsp;They were all deceived:

�Ah, young skomorokh, [said the Prince], For your glorious playing,nbsp;For your sweet delights.

Dobrynya is further said to have sung beautiful tunes from overseas, to have touched the strings to airs from Kiev, Tsargrad (Constantinople) and Jerusalem; or, variously,

A second he sang from Tsargrad, The third time he began to play.nbsp;He related all his adventures.^

It will be remembered that Dobrynya, as envoy to Vladimir, was a great traveller. In the version of the bylina of Dobrynya and Vasili Kazimirovnbsp;recited by the elder Ryabinin to Rybnikov, Dobrynya�s sworn brother,nbsp;Ivanushka Dubrovich, is shown to us playing on Dobrynya�s gusli ofnbsp;maplewood with such skill that

In a similar scene in a pobyvalshchina of the Kiev Cycle,Baidak Borisevich plays his horn to such effect that the Turkish sultan and allnbsp;his followers are spellbound, and Baidak and his dru^hina are enabled tonbsp;overcome and slay them.

Stavr, the merchant {gost) from Chernigov, is an accomplished minstrel. His wife, who comes to Kiev disguised as an ambassador,nbsp;says that her husband is �an expert player on the gusli of maplewood�.5nbsp;At the feast held by Prince Vladimir in honour of herself in her guise asnbsp;ambassador, and of his other noble guests, she sits and sulks because nonbsp;one plays on the gusli (cf. p. 262 below). It is, of course, her object tonbsp;have her husband brought out of his prison into the assembly. Her

' Miller, Ocherki^ I. p. 59 f. For parallel passages in other versions see the references in footnote i.

� Ib. For references to parallel passages in other versions, see footnotes 2, 3.

3 1. p. 56; cf. ib. p. 64. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Afanasev, ii. p- 567.

attitude, however, suggests that a guest would naturally feel dishonoured if no minstrel was present at the feast to entertain him. In the versionnbsp;recited by Chukov to Rybnikov,^ when Stavr is at last brought forwardnbsp;and asked to play, we are told that �he began to play on the gusli ofnbsp;maplewood, he made merriment Iraiveselilsya) The phrase recalls thenbsp;vesel�e lyudi or public entertainers of the Middle Ages, as we shall seenbsp;presently.

The feast is not the only occasion for the display of heroic minstrelsy. Churilo Plenkovich, in his capacity of groom of the bed-chamber tonbsp;Vladimir and the Princess Apraxya, is said to � sit beside the high pillownbsp;and play on his gusli of maplewood to divert Prince Vladimir, andnbsp;Queen Apraxya more particularly �.3 Solovey Budimirovich, the richnbsp;merchant prince, who marries Vladimir�s �niece� Zabava Putyatichna,nbsp;is also an accomplished minstrel, and practises his art both on sea andnbsp;land.

It is interesting to note that neither Vladimir nor Apraxya are said to practise minstrelsy, nor, apparently, Dyuk Stepanovich, the prince�s son,nbsp;nor Alyosha the priest�s son, nor Ilya of Murom, the �peasant�s son�.nbsp;The heroes who practise minstrelsy all appear to have mercantilenbsp;interests. Stavr is a merchant, and Solovey Budimirovich, and Churilonbsp;appears to be a merchant�s son, since old Plenko his father is describednbsp;as '�.gost^ �stranger�, �merchant�. Dobrynya�s origin is not clear, but innbsp;at least one version (see p. 107 above) he is described as the son of anbsp;rich merchant of Ryazan. The evidence of the Kiev poems, slightnbsp;though it is, seems to represent amateur minstrelsy as a polite accomplishment of the wealthy merchant class. Even Solovey the Robber, annbsp;accomplished musician in his own way, has his �nest� above the highnbsp;road traversed by merchants passing from Chernigov to Kiev.

Turning now from the Cycle of Kiev to that of Novgorod, we again find that both Sadko the rich merchant, and Vasili Buslaev the tysyatski

or posadnik, (cf. p. 125 f. above) of this rich mercantile city are accomplished musicians. Vasili, who is reported to have been a well educated man who could read and write, was also well trained in church music.nbsp;In the words of the lylina recorded by Kirsha Danilov,

The venerable widow Amelfa Timofeevna� She sent him to learn church singing,nbsp;And he mastered the art of singing.

We have already seen (p. 51 f. above) that in the versions of the bylina of Sadko, the rich merchant of Novgorod, recited by Sorokin tonbsp;Rybnikov and Gilferding, Sadko is described in terms which leave nonbsp;doubt that in early life he was a professional musician, a poor man whonbsp;attended at feasts in Novgorod, entertaining the company by playing onnbsp;the gusli, till the time came when he was no longer invited to the banquets. We have also seen how, when overtaken by a storm at sea, henbsp;descends into the waves on a golden chessboard with his gusli under hisnbsp;arm, and is able to entertain the tsar of the sea until St Nikolai appearsnbsp;and discourages him. The story suggests that perhaps Sadko�s minstrelsynbsp;was a little out of date in busy Novgorod, but was welcomed by thenbsp;more backward Finnish communities in the country districts roundnbsp;Lake Ilmen ; but this, of course, cannot be pressed seriously. We havenbsp;also seen (p. 53) that in a version recorded by Kirsha Danilov, Sadko isnbsp;said to have been a stranger in Novgorod, and to have spent the earlynbsp;part of his life on the Volga; but this version knows nothing of him as anbsp;minstrel, though it emphasises his mercantile prosperity and wealth.

The evidence of the byliny themselves, therefore, suggests that in the past minstrelsy was largely cultivated and patronised by rich merchantsnbsp;and wealthy men. Such men may or may not have sometimes belongednbsp;to the princely class, but certainly were not necessarily of royal or evennbsp;of noble blood. Such evidence does not prove that in this respect thenbsp;byliny have preserved a faithful record of the state of minstrelsy in eithernbsp;ancient Kiev or Novgorod; but at least it is very probable that thenbsp;tradition of minstrelsy which they embody reflects faithfully the customnbsp;or the current traditions of the period when the nucleus of our bylinynbsp;assumed their present form.

to the Cycles of Kiev and Novgorod. The later Cycles do not appear to recognise the instrument. It is a striking fact that the bylina of Kas-tryuk, which narrates the marriage of Ivan the Terrible to the Circassiannbsp;princess, does not refer to minstrelsy or to the gusli, though in generalnbsp;this bylina, and in particular the description of the wedding feast, bearsnbsp;a close resemblance to those of the Kiev Cycle. On the other hand nonbsp;reference is made in the Cycle of either Kiev or Novgorod to the recitation of byliny {stariny'}. Indeed practically nothing is told us of thenbsp;nature of the songs sung. It would seem that either the words or thenbsp;tunes�it is not clear which�are frequently foreign, and rarely local.

The only reference known to us which relates to the recitation of byliny �p�sni) occurs in a little bylina which relates to quite a differentnbsp;milieu, and has nothing in common with the Cycles of either Kiev ornbsp;Novgorod. This bylina relates to a certain Prince Danilo, who is unknown elsewhere in the byliny, and who has been thought, on verynbsp;slender evidence (cf. p. $7), to be identical with Prince Daniel ofnbsp;Galicia who was crowned in 1254. The prince, as we have seen, is represented as wandering through the streets and saying pretty things tonbsp;the girls whom he meets. He invites them to sing him a pesn (i.e. anbsp;popular song) � about Ilya of Murom, or Egor the tsar�s son, and othernbsp;heroes �. They reply that they cannot sing p�sni on any of these heroes,nbsp;but threaten to sing a scurrilous p�sn of which he himself is the subject.

This little bylina is of great interest. Ilya of Murom is the chief hero of the byliny, and Egor the tsar�s son is no other than Egori Khrabry,nbsp;George the Brave, the chief hero of the stikhi. The prince is asking thenbsp;girls to sing him byliny or stikhi, and so far as we know this is the onlynbsp;reference in popular poetry�in oral tradition�to either. Its testimony,nbsp;then, is of considerable importance. It suggests that the prince hadnbsp;reason to expect such songs, not from professional minstrels and guslinbsp;players, but from popular singers, of whom some at least are women.

In addition to the amateur and merchant minstrels, and the popular reciters already discussed, the byliny also contain a number of referencesnbsp;to a class of professional performers, known as skomorokhi, to whom wenbsp;have already referred. The origin of the word is unknown, but bothnbsp;the word itself, and the class of people to whom it refers, are thoughtnbsp;to be of Byzantine origin. The skomorokhi were a confraternity ofnbsp;public entertainers, actors, wandering minstrels, dancers, singers,nbsp;wrestlers and buffoons, who from the late Middle Ages onwards took annbsp;active and prominent part in Great Russia in all festivals, especially

weddings, and feasts. They were not confined to Great Russia, however, but appear in White Russia as minstrels, in Poland as leaders of bears.^

As we have seen, the skomorokhi are referred to not infrequently in the bylinyoi Kiev and Novgorod, both under this title, and also under thenbsp;terms veselye lyudi (lit. � joyous people �), dobrye molodtsy (� bold youths �,nbsp;�good companions�). Reference has already been made to the partnbsp;played by Dobrynya Nikitich, disguised as a �bold skomorokh', at thenbsp;wedding feast of his own wife Nastasya. It is clear that the �boldnbsp;skomorokh� occupies a seat of honour and enjoys a high status. Wenbsp;have seen also that skomorokhi and igroki (lit. �players�, sc. on the^zz^Zz)nbsp;are also referred to in Ryabinin�s version of the bylina of Dobrynya andnbsp;Vasili Kazimirov, where they are said to grow silent with admiration atnbsp;the minstrelsy of Ivanushka Dubrovich.

In Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina of Stavr,� the hero�s wife, disguised as an envoy, asks Prince Vladimir the following question:nbsp;How, Prince Vladimir, do you amuse yourselves in Kievi�nbsp;Have you �joyous youths� (yesel�e molodtsy'}^

Prince Vladimir then sends to seek on all hands for such people, and �collected the veselye lyudi in the prince�s palace�. Then he makes anbsp;joyous feast to entertain the great folk, but the ambassador sits joyless,nbsp;saying to the prince: �Have you no one to play the gusliV' Then it isnbsp;that Prince Vladimir sends for Stavr �the boyarin�, the gost fromnbsp;Chernigov.

The skomorokhi are also referred to in Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina of Vasili Buslaev.3 The hero, as we have seen, is trained by hisnbsp;mother to sing in a church choir; but although he appears to respondnbsp;readily to the discipline of the training, the poet immediately passes onnbsp;to tell us that he joined a band of drunken veselye lyudi, his qualificationnbsp;being presumably his voice. We are not expressly told the subjects ofnbsp;their songs, but from the subsequent conduct of the troop we maynbsp;assume that they were not ecclesiastical in character.

In the bylina of Terenti Gost, �Terence the Merchant�, the skomorokhi are represented as roaming in a band about the streets of Novgorod, apparently in search of someone who will give them employment. Theynbsp;take an active part in Terence�s domestic affairs, revealing to him thenbsp;infidelity of his young wife. To this end they are shown to us arrivingnbsp;at Terence�s house, where his young wife lies in bed with her paramour,nbsp;but feigning sickness. They are invited to come in and sit together on anbsp;� Mazon, Bylines, p. 686.

263 bench in the hall and sing to the accompaniment of the gusli. In thisnbsp;instance their song is extempore and topical, and consists of an addressnbsp;to the deluded husband whom they have hidden in a great muff, andnbsp;to whom they quote in their song the disparaging terms in which he isnbsp;referred to by his young wife. The bylina shows the skomorokhi as quickwitted and accomplished rogues, well practised in an art which is nevertheless not of a very high order. Their song is referred to as a p�sn.

In the bylina of Kastryuk, wrestlers are called in to provide the principal part of the entertainment at the marriage banquet of the tsar Ivan the Terrible. It is generally assumed by scholars that these wrestlersnbsp;are skomorokhi., though the identification seems to us somewhat uncertain. It is doubtless due to the terms bortsy, dobrye molodtsy, by whichnbsp;they are referred to. In one version of this bylina, however, recited tonbsp;Rybnikov in Pudoga,* an actual skomorokh is referred to as playing thenbsp;part of messenger {posol} and announcing the approach of the bridalnbsp;party.

From these references it would seem that according to the evidence of the byliny, alongside the wealthy amateur minstrel there were alsonbsp;guilds or associations of professional performers. These men were alsonbsp;minstrels, players on gusli, accomplished musicians. Their repertoirenbsp;may be supposed to have been identical with that of the wealthynbsp;amateur, since Dobrynya could so readily assume the r�le. Like thenbsp;amateurs also (e.g. Dobrynya, Ivanushka Dubrovich, Stavr) they givenbsp;performances at feasts. They appear to have been held in high esteem,nbsp;and to have enjoyed an honourable status, and they are represented asnbsp;mixing as equals with the members of the court of Kiev. Here againnbsp;we need not assume that their order reaches back to the period to whichnbsp;the byliny ; but here again we may be sure that they reflect conditionsnbsp;at least as early as the period of the original composition of the byliny.

It will have been observed that the internal evidence of the byliny relating to the skomorokhi overlaps to a considerable extent with that ofnbsp;the minstrel heroes. Dobrynya plays in the guise of a skomorokh, andnbsp;Ivanushka Dubrovich and Stavr play in the presence of, or in emulationnbsp;of, skomorokhi. Vasili Buslaev�the educated singer�appears to identifynbsp;himself with the vesel�e lyudi. It is a striking fact that direct referencesnbsp;to the skomorokhi in the byliny virtually end with the Novgorod Cycle.nbsp;From the later Cycles they are practically absent. It is not clear that thenbsp;skomorokh to whom reference is made in a single version of the bylina ofnbsp;Kastryuk is a musician or an entertainer.

It does not seem to be stated anywhere that the skomorokhi composed or sang narrative poetrynbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;stariny}. We have seen that when

Dobrynya sings to the gusli disguised as a skomorokh, his tontsy �airs�) are largely, though not exclusively, foreign. The skomorokhinbsp;in the bylina of Terenti Cost sing a purely occasional poem �p�sn)nbsp;addressed to Terenti himself. So far as we are aware these are the onlynbsp;positive statements made in the hyliny as to the repertoire of thenbsp;skomorokhi. There are, however, some passages in the opening, andnbsp;more especially in the concluding, lines of certain byliny which seem tonbsp;claim that they form the subject of recitation by the skomorokhi.

These passages are especially common in the versions recorded by Kirsha Danilov�a circumstance which has lent colour to the suggestionnbsp;that this collection is based on their repertoire. One of the longest andnbsp;most interesting of these passages is rendered by Prof. Mazon as follows:nbsp;Telle est notre vieille histoire, notre histoire vraie.nbsp;Notre histoire � r�jouir la mer bleue...

A se passer de bouche en bouche, entre jeunes compagnons, A faire notre joie de joyeux drilles,nbsp;Assis � converser de bonne mani�re.nbsp;Buvant hydromel et eau-de-vie.

O� r on nous donne � boire, l� nous rendons honneur, Nous rendons honneur au grand seigneur.nbsp;Au bon ma�tre de la maison.�

Here the picture would seem to be of oral recitation by the professional minstrels known as the dobrye molodtsy, or vesel�e lyudi, at a feast givennbsp;by a wealthy householder whom they are at pains to thank and compliment.

For further examples of such �tags� we may refer to the concluding lines of Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina on the death of Skopin.�nbsp;A number of instances are also cited by Miller,? and English translationsnbsp;of several are given by L. A. Magnus.'* It is generally supposed, andnbsp;indeed it would seem to be very probable, that in such passages as thesenbsp;the vesel�e lyudi and the skomorokhi make claim to be the reciters of thenbsp;byliny.

Our fullest information for the history of minstrelsy in general comes, not from the byliny, but from historical sources. It is clear fromnbsp;numerous allusions in both native and foreign authors that the skomo-

3 R.M. X. p. I ff.; Ocherki, l. p. 59 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Ballads, p. 173 ff.

265 rokhi were in high favour at the Muscovite court during the sixteenthnbsp;century. Sir Jerome Horsey, the English ambassador to Ivan thenbsp;Terrible, has left us an account in his diary of the court at Moscow as henbsp;saw it at the close of the sixteenth century.� It contains a curious entrynbsp;which states that the Emperor went into the bath, and � sollaced himself,nbsp;and made merie with pleasant songs, as he useth to doe �. Fletcher givesnbsp;it as Ivan�s custom that �after his sleepe he goeth to evensong...andnbsp;thence returning, for the most parte recreateth himself with the empressenbsp;till supper time, with jesters and dwarfes, men and women, that tumblenbsp;before him, and sing many songs after the Russe manner. This is hisnbsp;common recreation betwixt meals that hee moste delightes in Earliernbsp;in the same century Osepp Napea, the Muscovite ambassador, reportednbsp;that �in the dinner time there came in sixe singers, which stood in thenbsp;midst of the chamber, and their faces towards the Emperour, who sangnbsp;there before dinner was ended three severall times, whose songs ornbsp;voices delighted our eares little or nothing �.3

Side by side with notices in the works of foreign travellers relating to �buffoons�, �tumblers�, and �singers� at the Muscovite court, we findnbsp;plentiful evidence in Russian history and legal documents for their popularity, under the name of skomorokhi and vesel�e lyudi, �joyous people�.nbsp;They are represented as singing to the gusli and the gudka (�fiddle�)nbsp;among other accomplishments, and they are constantly associated withnbsp;fiddlers. The Russian noble and man of letters of the reign of Ivannbsp;the Terrible, Andrei Mikhailovich Kurbski,'^ tells us that after the Tsarnbsp;Ivan Vasilevich had drunk, �he began to dance and feast with skomo-Tokhi in mashkarakhi (� masks �) �.5 In a Chronicle of Novgorod s.a. 1571nbsp;we read: �At this time in Novgorod, and throughout all the cities andnbsp;districts in the government, they received the vesel�e lyudi�; and immediately afterwards it is stated that �there drove from Novgorod in cartsnbsp;to Moscow on Saturday.. .the skomorokhi�.^ It will be rememberednbsp;that in the bylina of Terenti Cost, �Terence the Merchant�, the skomo-Tokhi are represented as wandering in a band about the streets ofnbsp;Novgorod.

For the seventeenth century our information relating to the skomo-Tokhi is even more abundant. Olearius mentions in his account of Russia that he saw and heard skomorokhi in Ladoga on the outskirts of

� Horsey, p. 201. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Fletcher, p. 142.

3 Osepp Napea, p. 358. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Born 1528; died 1583.

5 Famintsyn, p. 15 ; Miller, R.M. x. p. 13 ; Ocherki^ i. p. 56. � Miller, loc. cit.

the earlier Novgorod dominions in 1634, and that they sang panegyric poetry. When he and his companions were sitting at dinner therenbsp;came two Russians with lutes and gudkas (�fiddles�), who made theirnbsp;bows, and began to play and sing about the great mighty sovereignnbsp;and tsar Michael Fedorovich. Then they danced and made strangenbsp;gesticulations.�

The reference is to the Tsar Michael Romanov I, who reigned 1613-45. It is interesting to know that stringed instruments were stillnbsp;used for the accompaniment of such songs. This contemporary noticenbsp;by Olearius suggests that the short contemporary byliny which rose tonbsp;prominence in Moscow in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries formednbsp;a part of the repertoire of the skomorokhi. It was possibly on some suchnbsp;occasion, and from similar people, that Richard James in 1619 made hisnbsp;little collection of contemporary byliny.

The widespread popularity and high patronage enjoyed by these variety entertainers converted them into formidable bodies of rich andnbsp;unruly folk. Sometimes settled in permanent homes, sometimesnbsp;wandering about various districts in companies, already by the fifteenthnbsp;century they had become a serious menace to ecclesiastical and civilnbsp;authorities alike. A company of the �joyous people� frequently consisted of �between sixty and a hundred people, who seized their foodnbsp;and drink by force from the country people, and stole their food fromnbsp;the larder, and robbed in the streets�.�

Their troublesome and unruly conduct gave colour to the hostile representations of the ecclesiastical and monastic authorities, and fromnbsp;the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries a series of repressive uka^^es werenbsp;directed towards curbing and curtailing their power. In particular wenbsp;may refer to the Council of Stoglov held in 1551, in which they werenbsp;solemnly condemned.3 As the popular proverb has it, Skomorokh popunbsp;ne tovarishch, �Skomorokh and priest are no comrades�.4 Undernbsp;Michael Fedorovich (1613-45) the persecution never took a verynbsp;serious form. The official ban however was finally given to the skomo-Tokhi under Alexis Mikhailovich (1645-76), the father of Peter the Great,nbsp;whose relentless persecution of the wandering skomorokhi of every sortnbsp;throughout his reign finally brought it about that they gradually disappeared, and from this period onwards references to them grow rarer.nbsp;The strong ecclesiastical prejudice is perhaps reflected in the bylinanbsp;of Sadko, where St Nikolai is represented as bidding Sadko cease

� Olearius, p. 7. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Miller, R.M. x. p. 14; Ocherki, I. p. 57.

3 Solovev, n. col. 418 IF. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Mazon, Bylines, p. 686.

THE SKAZITELI nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;267

It will have been observed that the period covered by this wealth of historical evidence, testifying to the singing of songs by the skomorokhinbsp;to the accompaniment of musical instruments, corresponds to the periodnbsp;of which the byliny themselves have little to tell us in regard to thenbsp;heroic minstrel. The disappearance of the courtly minstrels of the Kievnbsp;and Novgorod Cycles coincides with the beginning of the historicalnbsp;evidence for troops of �joyous people�. Moreover, soon after thenbsp;persecution of the skomorokhi, etc. in the seventeenth century by thenbsp;upper classes, we begin to have collections of byliny from the peasantry.nbsp;These circumstances and the evidence already cited have led Vsevolodnbsp;Miller and other scholars to regard the skomorokhi as the professionalnbsp;class from whom the peasants received their r�pertoire. The disappearance of the skomorokhi as a professional class from the extensive regionsnbsp;of Great Russia in which they had been distributed in itself makes itnbsp;probable that the last traces of their repertoire will be found in outlyingnbsp;districts. It is, as we have seen, from such districts that our collections ofnbsp;bylinyhzNG been drawn. If it could be shown that the skomorokhi and thenbsp;veselye lyudi were actually associated with the singing of by linytherenbsp;would be considerable ground for regarding Miller�s view with favour.

Such evidence is not wholly lacking, though it is slight in quantity, and dates from comparatively recent times. It is found in the well-known passage written by the historian Tatishchev, who lived 1685-1750.^ The notice is as follows:

� I heard in the past from the skomorokhi ancient songs about Prince Vladimir, in which they make mention of his wives by name, as well asnbsp;of those glorious men Ilya of Murom, Aleksey Popovich, Solovey thenbsp;Robber, Dolk (.^ Dyuk) Stefanovich, and glorify their deeds; but ofnbsp;history, very little or nothing.� �

From this it seems clear that at least in the early part of the eighteenth century the byliny formed a well recognised and important part of thenbsp;repertoire of the skomorokhi^ the vamp;samp;lyc lyudi, who were, we have nonbsp;reason to doubt, at least part heirs of the traditional court minstrelsy.nbsp;From them, it may be regarded as certain, the peasants have in somenbsp;degree received their r�pertoire in more recent times. It is less easy tonbsp;demonstrate the second part of Miller�s proposition that they were alsonbsp;the authors of the byliny, nor indeed is it clear to us that Miller himself

intended to press this view with regard to the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, which embrace strictly heroic traditions. On internal evidence, however, he urges that the byliny which have as their subjects scenes fromnbsp;domestic life, whether in the court of Kiev, or in the streets and housesnbsp;of Novgorod, must have been composed by the �joyous people�. Indeednbsp;it cannot be denied that the atmosphere of such byliny, and morenbsp;particularly their broad humour�a humour coarser than we arenbsp;accustomed to associate with court poetry�is precisely such as wenbsp;should expect to get from the skomorokhi.

Finally, the question has often been asked : who else could have composed them.^ We have seen that the skomorokhi are versatile people. We have met them as wrestlers, dancers, tumblers, buffoons, minstrels,nbsp;singers, fiddlers. We have found them termed variously skomorokhi,nbsp;vesel�e lyudi, vesel�e molodtsy, dobrye molodtsy. It is clear, therefore, thatnbsp;their functions were wide and not strictly delimited, and that the abovenbsp;terms were used loosely of any public entertainers. If, as we believe, thenbsp;byliny as a whole were composed by illiterate but highly trained minstrels,nbsp;it is natural, in view of the lack of evidence to the contrary, to supposenbsp;that some at least were composed by the only highly trained secularnbsp;artists and popular entertainers whom we know, i.e. the minstrels whomnbsp;Tatishchev heard singing them; and a number of byliny offer strongnbsp;internal evidence of such an origin. We shall see later, however, thatnbsp;there are reasons for believing that the skomorokhi were not the onlynbsp;composers of byliny, and we greatly doubt if it is to the skomorokhi thatnbsp;the majority of the byliny are originally indebted. We are inclined tonbsp;attribute the prototypes of the byliny of the Kiev Cycle to the kaleki.nbsp;This subject will be discussed more fully in the next chapter.

It may be regarded as certain, however, that when the Olonets ska'iitel sings his bylina in a corrupt metre to two or three tunes, withoutnbsp;accompaniment, losing that metre entirely when he abandons his singingnbsp;for recitation, we are in the presence of the last flicker of the genuinenbsp;secular �minstrel� tradition in north Russia. When those last few tunesnbsp;have been forgotten, we have abandoned minstrelsy and poetry for thenbsp;pobyvalshchina or traditional heroic saga. This is no doubt the reasonnbsp;why it appears that there are few, if any, pobyvalshchiny relatingnbsp;to subjects which are not connected in some way with the medievalnbsp;heroic cycles of Kiev and Novgorod. The sagas relating to Peter thenbsp;Great and to other comparatively modern heroes bear no trace ofnbsp;having been paraphrased, or, indeed, of having existed in any othernbsp;form.

Of the recitation and composition of prose saga very little is known. Neither the collectors nor the texts which they record have much to tellnbsp;us. In modern times the art of saga telling, like that of the recitation ofnbsp;byliny, has become almost wholly restricted to peasant circles, and sagasnbsp;proper, i.e. traditional oral prose narratives of an elaborate kind, circulatenbsp;today in the same circle as the ska^ki. Such sagas are, however, as wenbsp;have seen, far less numerous than the ska^ki, which doubtless accountsnbsp;for the meagre character of the evidence relating to their circulation.

Nevertheless we doubt very much if saga-telling is of humble origin in Russia. We know from Nestor�s own account that he was indebtednbsp;to the slovesy of one Yan for much of his information, and it seemsnbsp;probable on the whole that prose narratives are implied.�' Yan, as wenbsp;learn from the references in Nestor, belonged to one of the leadingnbsp;families in the country. Moreover, there is ample evidence that certainnbsp;types of narratives such as ska:pm�a were composed by ecclesiastics,nbsp;and even by men who were high in royal favour; cf. p. 172. In allnbsp;probability the mention of these aristocratic composers of saga is onlynbsp;due to the accidental circumstance of their compositions having beennbsp;committed to writing. We shall see later, in the chapter on �The Popularnbsp;Poet and Story-teller�, that there is evidence that story-telling was encouraged in the households of noble families in Russia in the eighteenthnbsp;century, and even by Ivan the Terrible himself in the sixteenth.

Such evidence as we possess relating to the circulation of sagas in modern times again points to the north of Russia as the region where thenbsp;art is chiefly cultivated. Here last century were recorded specimens ofnbsp;the elaborate poetical sagas known aspobyvalshchiny, a modern development from the byliny�in fact non-metrical by liny. One of the longestnbsp;and best preserved of these was recorded by Rybnikov from the recitation of a peasant who by profession was a kal�ka^ but who, upon occasion, also sang byliny.^ (Cf. p. 167 above.) Thepobyvalshchina on �Thenbsp;Healing of Ilya of Murom� 4 was recorded from the recitation of � decrepitnbsp;old men�, in other words the kal�ki.�gt; Barsov and others have collectednbsp;many sagas from the older peasants of the north relating to Ivan thenbsp;Terrible and Peter the Great.^ We have no evidence from modern times,nbsp;however, which suggests that these or other sagas form the exclusive ornbsp;specialised repertoire of any class of reciters.

� The word is commonly used in medieval Russian texts with reference to sermons.

3 /�. p, 632. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;'* /i. p. 581.

5 /i- nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* /igt;. I. p. Ixxvi; II. p. 715 f.

THE RECITATION AND COMPOSITION OF RELIGIOUS POETRY

THE KAL�KI

HATE VER part the skomorokki played in regard to the hyliny�whether that of reciters only, or of composers also�nbsp;is now a matter of ancient history. Since the beginning of the

eighteenth century they have been a mere memory. There is, however, another class of professional singers who are widespread throughoutnbsp;Great Russia, and who, down to our own time, have carried on thenbsp;recitation of hyliny alongside the amateur peasant skay^iteli. The professional singers of this second class are the kalikipirekko^hie^ or, as theynbsp;are called today, the kal�ki peTekko^h�k The hyliny are said to be innbsp;general, however, only of secondary importance in their repertoire, atnbsp;any rate in modern times. Their recitations consist chiefly of dukhovnienbsp;sttkhi, or oral narrative religious poems. Unfortunately all too littlenbsp;evidence regarding the kal�ki themselves is accessible at present tonbsp;western scholars, and we shall therefore treat this subject verynbsp;briefly.

The kal�ki, as we have already noted (p. 4 above), are a confraternity of itinerant religious singers. They are�or appear to have been in the past�in some way loosely associated with religious institutions. Innbsp;contrast to the skaiiteli, the kal�ki are professionals, having no other meansnbsp;of livelihood. In contrast to the ska'iiteli also they do not live, in modernnbsp;times, in fixed habitations, and are free from labour and social ties.^nbsp;In one of the poems which professes to recount the origin of their corporation (cf. p. 187 f. above) they claim to have received divinenbsp;sanction for their art, and to have voluntarily abrogated riches andnbsp;worldly possessions.

As their name implies the kal�ki are generally cripples, the majority being blind. In modern times they are very poor,3 mendicants in fact,nbsp;and generally more or less ragged. Singly or, more commonly, in smallnbsp;groups of blind singers, led by a child or someone who has sight, theynbsp;wander from village to village, and from one great house to another,nbsp;and attend fairs, singing and begging alms. Their disabilities doubtless

� For a discussion of the two terms, see p. 272 below. � Rybnikov, I. p. xci.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 pp. xxxix, cii.

make it desirable for them to travel in small parties rather than separately. They are sanctioned by the Church, but they have no statusnbsp;and do not belong to any ecclesiastical organisation. The kal�ki {kalik�)nbsp;whom Rybnikov found in the Olonets Government in 1859 werenbsp;accustomed to resort to Shungsk Fair, where they used to sit by thenbsp;churchyard and sing to crowds of listeners.� Even in our own day theynbsp;may still be found at fairs and church festivals and in the neighbourhood of monasteries, and in many districts their wailings still form annbsp;essential part of all funerals.�

The kal�ki consist of both men and women, but if we may judge from the pictures contained in Bezsonov�s corpus of their songs,3 the mennbsp;and women generally travel in separate groups. They carry bags whichnbsp;are frequently shaped like our own rucksacks, only rather larger, andnbsp;which contain their provisions. The bags hang from the shoulders bynbsp;cords, and sometimes they are pointed at the lower end, and one is wornnbsp;on each side, the straps crossing from right to left. Sticks also arenbsp;carried, and each group has a common cup in which to receive alms.nbsp;The men wear no hats, but a long coat, or, in milder weather, a shortnbsp;smock and girdle, and rough shoes. Their appearance is unkempt. Thenbsp;women wear a kerchief over their heads and tied under the chin, longnbsp;wide coats and girdles, and rough shoes. The women�s costume isnbsp;almost identical with that of our modern Carmelite nuns in Englandnbsp;except for the absence of the veil. In the south and west of Russia onenbsp;member of each group (probably of the men only) usually carries a lyrenbsp;or bandura with which to accompany their songs.In the north, however, the kal�ki, like the ska:(tteli, sing without accompaniment. Bezsonovnbsp;gives two pictures, each of a single man who appears to be blind, andnbsp;who is seated and playing a musical instrument, one a bandura, anbsp;stringed instrument somewhat resembling a guitar, characteristic ofnbsp;Little Russia; the other, a kind of lyre.

� In 1850 the police prohibited the kal�ki from singing as they went along the roads, and in 1859 and i860 Rybnikov had difhculty in finding them, even at thenbsp;Shungsk Fair (Petrozavodsk), where they had been accustomed formerly to resortnbsp;in large numbers. By the good offices of Rybnikov the local authorities were prevailed upon to withdraw their interdict, and the kal�ki reappeared on the Fairnbsp;ground. (Rambaud, R.�. p. 4.)

3 Kal�ki Perekhoihie. The reader may also refer to Rambaud�s description of the picture in the private art collection formed by Tretyakov in Moscow, R.�. p. 13.

saints or biblical heroes. Not unfrequently, however, as we have said, they sing byliny also. In Olonets especially many hyltny have beennbsp;recorded from the recitation of the kal�ki (kaliki). We have seen thatnbsp;Rybnikov obtained one or two of his first byliny from two kal�ki^ whonbsp;attended the Shungsk Fair in the Onega district. Later he obtained ninenbsp;from another kal�ka in a neighbouring district� and more thannbsp;twenty from a third.3 He tells us that the kal�ka Latyshev wanderednbsp;about from fair to fair singing for money. On the shores of Lakenbsp;Onega, where many Old Believers were to be found who hate worldlynbsp;music, this kal�ka sang chiefly dukhovnie. stikhi, �spiritual songs�; but innbsp;the Government of Archangel, where rich peasants lived in the villages,nbsp;and in the neighbourhood of the towns, the merchants and officialsnbsp;enjoyed hearing narratives about the heroes. Latyshev had learnt hisnbsp;byliny chiefly from the centenarian kal�ka called Gergush, who alsonbsp;taught him a fine pobyvalshchina^ Here, then, we have yet anothernbsp;(cf. p. 254 above) repertoire of A/Zzwy directly derived from an eighteenthcentury kal�ka.

Like the skomorokhi^ the kal�ki (kalik�} have preserved their anonymity. So far as we are aware, in no instance does the name of an author or reciter appear in connection with any of their poems. We knownbsp;nothing of the circumstances under which they composed their poems,nbsp;and very little of the means by which they acquire and transmit them.nbsp;They appear to be wholly uneducated people, and we know very littlenbsp;as to the exact sources from which they have obtained their knowledgenbsp;of the subjects of their poems, the majority of which are, as we havenbsp;seen, derived ultimately from books.

According to a brief account of the kaliki by Maslov 5 the institution of the kaliki dates from the early years of the Christian era; but his briefnbsp;notice of their history is somewhat disappointing in its absence of datesnbsp;and precise references, and the exact date or place of the origin of thenbsp;kaliki is not discussed. It is now generally held that there have been,nbsp;from comparatively early times, two classes of kaliki peramp;khoihie. Thenbsp;first class, which has long been extinct, consisted of comparatively well-to-do people who undertook specific pilgrimages from motives ofnbsp;devotion. The second consisted of poor people and cripples�the truenbsp;forerunners of the nishchaya bratya or �poor brethren�, and kal�ki or

* In Rybnikov�s notes on these singers the archaic form kaliki is invariably retained, and is probably still in use in Olonets.

� Rybnikov, i. p. xci. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;3 Jh, p. Ixxxviii f.

Ib. p. Ixxxix. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Brodski, etc., p. 231 f.

273 � cripples � of later times�who adopted the calling of wandering pilgrimsnbsp;as a permanent way of life. The similarity of the two words {kaliki,nbsp;kal�ki) has brought it about that the original distinction between the twonbsp;classes has been lost, and all alike are popularly referred to in modernnbsp;times as kal�l� without any direct reference to bodily infirmity. Somenbsp;scholars, such as Rybnikov and Maslov, retain the obsolete or archaicnbsp;form kaliki. We have preferred to use the modern term, especially innbsp;reference to our own time, as being of wider application and morenbsp;general use. Probably the distinction between these two classes ofnbsp;kaliki ought not to be pressed too far, even in relation to earlier times,nbsp;and it is certain that numbers of people of all classes attached themselvesnbsp;to both types. Indeed the personnel of both these classes of pilgrimsnbsp;was extremely varied, and included run-away serfs, people of no statusnbsp;and no permanent homes, as well as clergy.

The monasteries served as centres whither the kaliki flocked together, and where they were always assured of a reception on the ground thatnbsp;in the foundation of the Russian Church attributed to St Vladimir thenbsp;kaliki were included in the list of people in holy orders. From thenbsp;monasteries they derived their knowledge of spiritual things, which theynbsp;disseminated among the people. In this way, travelling through Russianbsp;and adjoining countries, many of them even reached Byzantium and thenbsp;Holy Land. Sometimes on their return they would revert to theirnbsp;former calling. Sometimes they adhered permanently to an itinerantnbsp;life. It is obvious that on their travels the kaliki would acquire muchnbsp;material of both secular and ecclesiastical interest with which to storenbsp;their memories, and which would ensure them a welcome as reciters onnbsp;their wanderings. It is not surprising that it has been found difficult tonbsp;trace the immediate source of most of their music and their poetry.

The kaliki probably reached their zenith in the reign of Alexis Mikhailovich (cp. p. 266 above), when they attained to high prestige and greatly increased in numbers. Among the many circumstances favourable to them about this time, doubtless the most important was thenbsp;proscription of the skomorokhi and other secular musicians. In thisnbsp;reign, the house of amusement of the tsar was abolished and devotednbsp;to the poor, who sang to the tsar stories of the past, songs of La^arnbsp;(cp. p. 196 above), and other religious songs. Even at the feast ofnbsp;the tsar himself the old gay traditional songs were replaced by stikhi.nbsp;The wealthy boyars naturally followed the tsar in this respect, andnbsp;large numbers of houses were devoted to the poor and cripples. Thisnbsp;encouragement in high circles, and the ease of a life of alms, brought

CL � nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;18

about a great increase in the number of the wandering poor, who fell heirs to the repertoires of the genuine kaliki pilgrims. The succeedingnbsp;government attempted to check the increase of vagrancy by drawing anbsp;distinction between the poor and the cripples on the one hand and thenbsp;healthy and capable on the other. By this means the genuine kaliki, i.e.nbsp;pilgrims by conviction, disappeared.*

The kaliki are mentioned frequently in the byliny�more frequently, indeed, than the skomorokhi. And unlike the skomorokhi they arenbsp;frequently introduced into the byliny as individuals, and as playing anbsp;definite�sometimes even an important�r�le. In several versions ofnbsp;Mikhailo Potyk, the rescue of the hero from the enchantments of thenbsp;White Swan is brought about by a kalika. In the bylina of the � Healingnbsp;of Ilya of Murom�, Christ and two disciples visit the house of Ilya�snbsp;parents during their absence in the guise of nishchaya bratya, �poornbsp;brethren�, which is the popular term for the kalikiperekhovjiie. They begnbsp;Ilya to give them a drink, and in return prophesy good fortune andnbsp;health to him�quite in the manner of the professional beggar.

In general, however, the kaliki as they appear in the byliny are wealthy and richly dressed imperious people, in striking contrast to thenbsp;�poor brethren� of the latter bylina and to the kaliki perMio^ie of today.nbsp;The fullest picture of a group of kaliki is given in the bylina of the �Fortynbsp;and One Kaltkt already discussed, where they are shown to us asnbsp;bogatyri who have voluntarily taken a vow to go on pilgrimage to atonenbsp;for their sins, and as setting out in a body from a religious house andnbsp;under ecclesiastical and royal auspices. Their costume and equipmentnbsp;are rich and splendid, and their bearing and behaviour are as polishednbsp;and imperious as those of the heroes themselves. They set out on theirnbsp;long pilgrimage to Jerusalem by way of Kiev, wandering along thenbsp;high-road begging alms�

For the love of Christ, the Tsar of Heaven, For the love of the holy Mother of God.�

Their procedure does not seem to differ greatly from that of their modern representatives. Standing in a circle, they beat with theirnbsp;sticks upon the ground to demand attention, and sing their stikhi,nbsp;apparently without the accompaniment of any musical instrument, atnbsp;least when they perform in groups. With their leader, Kasyan Mikhailovich, � a stalwart, fine young man �, the Princess Apraxya falls in

275 love, but, true to the kalika vow of chastity, the party pass on andnbsp;decline to take advantage of Apraxya�s weakness. When they havenbsp;left Kiev, and are overtaken and questioned in discourteous fashion bynbsp;the first party of the queen�s pursuers, they show themselves of anbsp;martial bearing, and well able to defend themselves. They respondnbsp;instantly to the courteous advance of the second party of pursuers, and,nbsp;�standing in a circle�, as their custom is, proceed at once to justice. Thenbsp;poem is interesting as showing a system of summary justice, selfimposed, among the kaliki, and a kind of self-government which mustnbsp;have contributed greatly to the toleration by society of such wanderingnbsp;troops of pilgrims.

The heroes of the byliny are frequently represented as exchanging clothes with the kaliki in order to effect a disguise and to purchasenbsp;immunity for themselves. The frequency of this device suggests thatnbsp;the persons of the kaliki were regarded as sacrosanct. Thus in certainnbsp;versions of the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk, Dobrynya Nikitich and Ilyanbsp;of Murom disguise themselves as kaliki when they go to visit the Kingnbsp;of Poland to enquire for Mikhailo Potyk. In one version^ of the story ofnbsp;Alyosha�s marriage to Dobrynya�s wife, Dobrynya arrives at thenbsp;wedding disguised, not as a skomorokh, but as a kalika. The variationnbsp;is significant.

The kaliki disguise is adopted with especial frequency by the Russian heroes in their encounters with the Tatars, and the consistency withnbsp;which the Tatars are represented as respecting the kaliki costume is verynbsp;striking. In the bylina which recounts the slaying of the Serpent of thenbsp;Mountain by Dobrynya Nikitich, Dobrynya wears the kaliki hat andnbsp;costume when he goes to bathe in the forbidden waters, and it is onlynbsp;when he is stripped of these garments that the fiery dragon attacks him.nbsp;In Kirsha Danilov�s version of the bylina of the slaying of Tugarin thenbsp;Dragon�s Son by Alyosha Popovich, the Russian hero, in his kalikinbsp;dress, is permitted to approach his enemy at close quarters and sonbsp;attack him off his guard. In a similar disguise Ilya of Murom is invitednbsp;into the palace of the Tsar Alexander, which is also occupied by hisnbsp;enemy Idolishche, and there he is hospitably treated. We know fromnbsp;historical sources that the Tatars were in general tolerant to the religionnbsp;of their enemies, and spared its votaries. The evidence of the byliny isnbsp;fully in accord with history; it suggests, however, that the Tatarnbsp;generosity in this respect was frequently very ill requited by thenbsp;Russians.

The incidents which show the heroes disguised as kaliki generally afford a good opportunity for introducing an elaborate description ofnbsp;the kaliki costume, which, in contrast to that of modern times, is richnbsp;and elaborate. Their hats are said to be of Greek manufacture; theirnbsp;shoes are composed of seven silks; their bags are of velvet and �rustlingnbsp;silk�; their staffs, which are sometimes of cypress-wood, are heavilynbsp;mounted with gold and tipped with ivory; their hands are resplendentnbsp;with jewels, and, as we have seen, the Russian heroes, in their guise ofnbsp;kaliki, frequently visit the courts of princes in foreign lands. There is nonbsp;hint in the poems of the Kiev Cycle that these religious singers are innbsp;any way deformed, or blind, or outcasts, like the kaliki of today.

From what has been said, it will be seen that the kaliki are much more prominent in the byliny than the skomorokhi. They constitute the chiefnbsp;personnel of one bylina�that of the �Forty and One Kaliki which isnbsp;devoted to their interests, and seeks to exalt them at the expense of thenbsp;Princess Apraxya. They are the real heroes of the bylina on � the Healingnbsp;of Ilya of Murom�, in which the kaliki, by an adroit device, are madenbsp;responsible for the career of the greatest of all the heroes of byliny. Itnbsp;would not be difficult to see the hand of the kaliki themselves in thenbsp;composition of such byliny as these.

The prominence of the kaliki is not confined to byliny of which they are the most conspicuous characters. We have seen that the denouementnbsp;of the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk is brought about by a kalika, though he isnbsp;absent from some versions, notably that of Kirsha Danilov, and hisnbsp;presence looks suspiciously adventitious. The substitution of the disguise of Dobrynya as a kalika for that of a skomorokh in the singlenbsp;version of the �marriage of Dobrynya� referred to above is certainly adventitious. We have seen that it is in the guise of kaliki that the heroesnbsp;frequently perform their greatest feats�the slaying of Idolishche bynbsp;Ilya of Murom; of Tugarin the Dragon�s Son by Alyosha Popovich;nbsp;of the Serpent of the Mountain by Dobrynya Nikitich. Examplesnbsp;might be multiplied. Are we really to believe that in the originalnbsp;versions of the heroic stories of the Kiev Cycle the principal heroesnbsp;were wholly dependent on the aid of the kaliki in the performance ofnbsp;their heroic deeds.-'

The traces of the kaliki in the byliny are not restricted to the personnel or to their influence on the action, nor are they confined to the modernnbsp;versions. The prominence of ecclesiastical interest in the byliny recordednbsp;by Kirsha Danilov is difficult to account for unless we suppose thatnbsp;many of his versions have come under the influence of the kaliki.

Prof. Mazon holds that Kirsha�s collection represents the repertoires of the skomoTokhi^ and in this he is no doubt partly right: we can wellnbsp;believe that the broader and more sophisticated versions have beennbsp;obtained from such sources, especially those of the lyliny of Kiev andnbsp;Novgorod. We are inclined, however, to think that the prominence ofnbsp;religious and ecclesiastical elements in Kirsha�s collection has beennbsp;underrated, both by Prof. Mazon� himself and by other scholars.

If we take at random Kirsha�s versions of byliny relating to the modern period, we cannot fail to be struck by the prominence of ecclesiasticalnbsp;elements and of references to religious practice. We may refer to thenbsp;bylina on �Grigori Otrepev and Marina�, which opens with the cry:

and lays stress throughout on the Pretender�s apostasy, on Marina�s heresy, on their neglect of religious observances, stressing in contrastnbsp;the devoutness of the Russian princes and boyars, and enlarging on thenbsp;memorial services held on all feast days for the murdered Tsarevichnbsp;Dimitri, son of Ivan the Terrible; and all this in a bylina of 68 lines.nbsp;Again, in the account of the death of Prince Simeon Romanovichnbsp;Pozharski, the account of the treatment of the dead hero has a strongnbsp;ecclesiastical flavour:

Even in the bylina on the �Death of Skopin�, which concludes with the lines which have been already referred to (p. 264 above), and which

* Referring to the skomorokhi, he writes: �Les �vieilles po�sies russes� rassembl�es par Kirsha Danilov �taient, sans doute aucun, de leur r�pertoire.... Le ton moyen du recueil de Kirsha Danilov est frappant � cet �gard: c�est celui du fabliaunbsp;plut�t que de la chanson de geste.� Bylines, p. 686.

� He refers to the bylina of the �Forty Kaliki' as �la seule byline du recueil de Kirsha Danilov o� apparaisse une note religieuse sinc�re�. Bylines, p. 688.

appear to claim that our version belongs to the skomorokh r�pertoire, features appear which would seem to be of a very different origin:

And in the morning early, very very early, Skopin heard matins in the Cathedral,nbsp;He heard matins, and then he set off on his journey.nbsp;He hoisted the royal banner,nbsp;And on the banner was stampednbsp;The miraculous Saviour and Redeemer;

And on the reverse side was stamped Mikhailo and Gabriel the archangels,nbsp;With all the heavenly host...nbsp;God�s help be with him !

And the poet proceeds to tell us of the form taken by the celebrations of Skopin�s victory�the masses that were recited, and the Te Deums,nbsp;�and the whole of the great liturgy�.

It is not only in the byliny relating to the century immediately preceding his own that Kirsha�s versions frequently betray a strong ecclesiastical bias. This feature is even more prominent in certain of hisnbsp;versions of the byliny of the Kiev and Novgorod Cycles. Perhaps thenbsp;most striking instance is his version of Mikhailo Potyk, of which wenbsp;have given some account, and in which the ecclesiastical tone has comenbsp;to predominate throughout the bylina to an extent which is trulynbsp;astonishing when we compare it with any other version of the story.nbsp;We may refer also to Kirsha�s version of the bylina of the slaying ofnbsp;Tugarin by Alyosha Popovich in which the hero overcomes his enemynbsp;in the guise of a kalika, and spends the whole night before the finalnbsp;encounter in prayer to God. Here also the name of Alyosha�s servantnbsp;is given, and we are told that he was �a man instructed in letters�, i.e.,nbsp;we may assume, a clerk or person in some kind of minor orders.nbsp;Turning to the Novgorod Cycle we find that Kirsha�s version of Vasilinbsp;Buslaev represents the hero as a champion of Christianity and a greatnbsp;benefactor of the Church, who makes liberal contributions to the Guildnbsp;of St Nikolai, and in later life makes a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to atonenbsp;for his sins and pray for the souls of the dead. In both of Kirsha�snbsp;versions of Sadko the religious element is very marked. In one (cp.nbsp;p. 52 above) the hero is rescued from the tsar of the sea by the intervention of St Nikolai, whose commands he is careful to obey. In thenbsp;other he is represented as a great builder of churches.

We have dwelt somewhat at length on the traces left by the kaliki on the byliny as a whole, and on Kirsha Danilov�s collection in particular.

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because it seems to us that there has been a tendency among scholars to underestimate the part which the kaliki have played in the history of thenbsp;by liny. In view of the positive testimony of the kaliki themselves tonbsp;Rybnikov; in view of certain byliny of which they form the principalnbsp;personnel, and of others in which they supply the d�nouement; in viewnbsp;of the many instances in which the heroes of Kiev perform their mostnbsp;important feats in the guise of kaliki-, and in view of the strong ecclesiastical bias of a great number, if not of the majority of the byliny as wenbsp;have them, it becomes clear that at some period of their history thenbsp;byliny have been widely current among the kaliki themselves, and havenbsp;been at least very widely influenced by them. Indeed we have no doubtnbsp;that the peasants of modern times have acquired their byliny from thenbsp;kal�ki {kaliki) more directly, and to an even greater degree than fromnbsp;the skomorokhi. And we know as a certain fact (cf. p. 252 ff. above)nbsp;that a number of the most important r�pertoires of byliny on recordnbsp;are derived directly from kal�ki.

How has this come about i* We have seen that while the skomorokhi were extremely popular, both at court and among the laity as a whole,nbsp;during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, they were held in gravenbsp;disapprobation by the Church. Under the Tsar Alexis (1645-1676),nbsp;whose sympathies were strongly ecclesiastical, they were officiallynbsp;banned, and after this they gradually disappear from history. Not so thenbsp;kal�ki. Although shorn of their former splendour, we have seen thatnbsp;these people still in the days of our grandparents, and no doubt even innbsp;our own day, wander along �the great road, the long road� beggingnbsp;alms, �for the sake of Christ, the Tsar of Heaven�. We have seen also thatnbsp;the kal�ki are patronised by the Church, whose interests are in no waynbsp;at variance with their own. There can be no doubt that the loss of thenbsp;skomorokhi was the gain of the kal�ki. The kal�ki, like the skomorokhi,nbsp;are professional singers and reciters of oral narrative poetry, and likenbsp;the skomorokhi they are expert extempore composers. Their technique isnbsp;identical. The subjects alone might be supposed to have originallynbsp;diflered. When, however, the wealth and prestige of the skomorokhinbsp;began to diminish about the close of the seventeenth century, would itnbsp;not be natural that the kal�ki {kaliki) would endeavour to improve theirnbsp;means of livelihood by stepping into the vacant places left by the disappearance of the skomorokhi^ We know, indeed, of a certain blindnbsp;kal�ka of the name of Mina, who sang byliny early in the eighteenthnbsp;century, and bequeathed to his pupils what must have been one of thenbsp;finest among the r�pertoires of byliny (cf. p. 253 above). And it is clear

that Other kal�ki of the same century also sang byliny (cf. p. 272 above). As sanctioned by the Church, the kal�ki must retain the stikhinbsp;as the principal part of their r�pertoire; but with the removal of thenbsp;skomorokhi the kal�ki were free to treat of subjects of secular interest innbsp;addition, and without competition, and thereby to increase their ownnbsp;popularity with the laity.

Did the kaliki recite byliny as well as stikhi before the decline of the skomoTokhii On this point we have no direct evidence; but it is difficultnbsp;to believe that the influence of the kaliki on the byliny was restricted tonbsp;the brief period between the proscription of the skomorokhi under thenbsp;Tsar Alexis, and the collection of byliny mz�e. by Kirsha Danilov aboutnbsp;the middle of the eighteenth century. Moreover, as we have seen, thenbsp;stikhi are obviously identical with the byliny in much of their diction andnbsp;many of their stylistic characteristics. Indeed in all matters relatingnbsp;to form the byliny and the stikhi are virtually indistinguishable. It isnbsp;natural to suppose, therefore, that the byliny or stariny were known tonbsp;the reciters of the stikhi at an early date. Are we really justified innbsp;assuming that these two great bodies of poetry belonged originally tonbsp;totally different milieus.^

We do not think that it has ever been seriously suggested that the kal�ki were originally responsible for the composition of the prototypes of the byliny of the Kiev Cycle, though much might be urged innbsp;favour of such a view. We have seen that in recent centuries at least thenbsp;kal�ki have been in the habit of reciting these byliny for money no less,nbsp;or hardly less, than stikhi, tactfully adapting their r�pertoire to theirnbsp;audiences. We have also seen that such evidence as we have points tonbsp;the practice being at least as strong in the eighteenth century. It isnbsp;difficult to see where the kal�ki could have found so decorous a Cycle ofnbsp;secular stories as those which had as their central figure a prince whosenbsp;name was identical with that of the great Vladimir, saint and founder ofnbsp;the Russian Church, founder also of the great ecclesiastical centre ofnbsp;Kiev, and�perhaps most important of all-�credited with having included the body of the kal�ki in holy orders, thereby gaining for themnbsp;the permanent hospitality and patronage of the Church and monasteries.

Moreover it might be pointed out that the ecclesiastical bias of Vladimir is never lost sight of. He is constantly represented as attending matins in the cathedral church of Kiev, and his dru^hina consists ofnbsp;bogatyri, who, as we have seen, are represented as little less than crusaders, defending holy Russia against the heathen Tatars. The onlynbsp;people who are at times represented in the poems as their superiors are

the kal�ki �kaliki) themselves. It is difficult to see where the kal�ki could have found a group of secular characters and a cycle of secular stories sonbsp;likely to have been handed down in oral tradition in ecclesiastical circles,nbsp;or so little likely to be frowned on in monastic circles as a part of thenbsp;kal�ki r�pertoire. These facts, taken together with the identity of formnbsp;of the and the stikhi, suggest that the former originally constitutednbsp;the secular portion of the kal�ki repertoire, the latter the ecclesiastical,nbsp;rather than that the former originally constituted the repertoire of anbsp;totally different and by no means ecclesiastically minded class ofnbsp;minstrels.

We have seen that Russia has little or no heroic poetry in the strict sense of the term. The heroic stories have almost all reached us throughnbsp;a non-heroic milieu. At the same time, despite this present non-heroicnbsp;atmosphere, there can be no doubt that the personnel of the byliny, thenbsp;stories themselves, and the whole milieu originated in a heroic age. It isnbsp;impossible to believe that the Kiev Cycle of stories, as distinct from thenbsp;Kiev Cycle of byliny, originated in ecclesiastical circles. Its aristocratic,nbsp;its military, and its strong mercantile personnel and preoccupations arenbsp;all against such a supposition.

But we have seen that the institution of the kaliki is itself believed to have consisted originally chiefly of aristocratic elements. The bylinynbsp;indeed represent the kaliki as in all particulars identical with the heroesnbsp;themselves�as, in fact, heroes who have voluntarily and temporarilynbsp;adopted a non-heroic calling, and are living in a non-heroic milieu. Ifnbsp;this is true, it is easy to see how the kaliki might have come into thenbsp;possession of a Cycle of traditional heroic stories. Such stories would,nbsp;indeed, in all probability, constitute their normal literature (oral) ofnbsp;entertainment in secular life. At the same time it would be natural tonbsp;them in their pilgrimages to give an ecclesiastical bias to their recitationsnbsp;of even secular subjects, and this bias would be further emphasised bynbsp;such of the kal�ki as adopted the life of pilgrims as a permanent calling.nbsp;The kal�ki of modern times, poor and disabled, would, it need hardlynbsp;be said, be unlikely to be the authors of the Kiev byliny, but no suchnbsp;disabilities seem to have rested on the members of their order in earlynbsp;times.

It is not, of course, intended to suggest that heroic stories and poems as such relating to Prince Vladimir and the heroes of Kiev originatednbsp;with the kaliki, still less that the kaliki are responsible for the origin ofnbsp;the bylina as a literary form. This is extremely unlikely. We know fromnbsp;the evidence of the Slovo 0 Polky Igorev� that Cycles of heroic poetry

were also current in the Middle Ages relating to Galicia on the one hand, and to Putivl, and doubtless to other cities of the Dn�pr also on thenbsp;other; and that these Cycles celebrated a number of heroes of whomnbsp;the Kiev byliny know nothing. But while all other heroic poetry hasnbsp;perished, leaving its traces only in the Slovo and in prose paraphrasesnbsp;and traditions, the stories of Vladimir have been perpetuated andnbsp;given a new life and an increasing and wider currency. What we thinknbsp;the kalil� were responsible for is the selective process which singled outnbsp;Prince Vladimir and a number of heroes associated in one way ornbsp;another with early Kiev; for the synthesis which grouped them togethernbsp;into a single Cycle; and for the composition of the immediate prototypes of our modern byliny.

Both the immediate sources from which the subjects of the bylinyaxo. derived, and the origin of the bylina as an artistic form are difficult andnbsp;disputed questions which lie outside the scope of the present work, and tonbsp;discuss them even briefly would require more space than we have at ournbsp;disposal. There has been a growing tendency in modern times to derivenbsp;both the stories and the form of the byliny of the early Cycles fromnbsp;literary (written) sources. The chief arguments adduced in favour ofnbsp;this view are the absence of contemporary or early references to thenbsp;singing of byliny, and the occurrence of certain stories and motifs of thenbsp;modern byliny in early written (i.e. learned) records, such as thenbsp;Chronicles.

It has been shown in Vol. i, however, in connection with Anglo-Saxon heroic poetry, how little value negative evidence really has when the question is one which relates to oral literature. Nor can wenbsp;regard the occurrence in the Chronicles and other learned works ofnbsp;stories and motifs found in the byliny as evidence that the latter arenbsp;indebted to written sources. Russian medieval Chronicles and othernbsp;written records are manifestly frequently indebted to oral recitation fornbsp;their material, as the Chronicler at times tells us himself, and as thenbsp;nature of the texts makes clear. Similarly in the West we find Jordanes�nbsp;history, and the Annals of Quedlinburg drawing upon heroic poetry fornbsp;their accounts of the death of Ermenric, while the early Irish annalsnbsp;contain numerous entries which are obviously derived from heroic sagas.

We must confess further that we have great difficulty in accepting the view that the form of the bylina is of literary origin. The metres arenbsp;virtually confined to the north, and it is probable that in this, as in othernbsp;respects, the north is conservative, and has preserved in a more or lessnbsp;disintegrated condition a form of metre which in the past was widespread

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also in the south. Even accepting Miller�s view that the byliny in their present form originated in the Province of Novgorod, it is probablenbsp;that the form had reached this district from the cultured cities of thenbsp;Dn�pr. The diction is practically that of the Slovo o Polky Igorev� andnbsp;the Zadonshchina, and we have little doubt that Mazon is right innbsp;regarding these as representing an earlier form of the bylinad But thenbsp;Slovo and the Zadonshchina are avowedly works composed for oralnbsp;recitation, and follow directly in the artistic tradition of an oldernbsp;school of oral poetry, which flourished on the Dn�pr and in Galicianbsp;in still earlier times. It is, we think, probable that the form of thenbsp;bylina is of similar origin and that neither the form nor the subjectnbsp;matter have any direct connection with learned sources.

The most widely cultivated form of oral poetry is undoubtedly poetry relating to unspecified individuals, generally known asnbsp;folk-songs, which appears to be recited in peasant circles throughout all parts of the country, especially by young people. Little is knownnbsp;of the authorship of such poetry in general, but some observations havenbsp;been made by early travellers on its composition and recitation, and anbsp;few words will be said on this subject later.

A class of poetry which is of peculiar interest and importance in Russia is the poetry of social ritual, more especially poetry recited atnbsp;weddings and wakes. We have seen that this poetry is of a very elaboratenbsp;character, and is cultivated with a high degree of specialisation. Suchnbsp;poetry appears to have continued in a flourishing condition down to thenbsp;third quarter of last century in Little Russia and in many parts of Greatnbsp;Russia, notably in the Government of Olonets. A collection has beennbsp;made in our own day by the brothers Sokolov.^ Owing to the extemporenbsp;character of such poetry, and to its close association with the eventsnbsp;which call for its recitation, it is difficult to treat of the authorship andnbsp;composition apart from the poetry itself, and we have therefore alreadynbsp;discussed these subjects to some extent in the chapter on�Poetry relatingnbsp;to Unspecified Individuals �. The section of the present chapter whichnbsp;deals with this subject, therefore, is to be regarded as merely supplementary to what has already been said in the previous chapter.

The extempore composition of popular poetry by non-professional people was very widely practised by the Russian peasants in thenbsp;eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and no doubt continues to be sonbsp;still in remote districts. In 1824 the German traveller Erman found thatnbsp;in the neighbourhood of Tobolsk the Russian groom accompanied thenbsp;alternate bounding and rattling of the carriage �with ever-varying,nbsp;apposite addresses to the horses separately, always in rhyme, partlynbsp;with songs of considerable length�.� He tells us that the horses arenbsp;adjured, in heroic fashion, �not to flag on the road which constantlynbsp;grows shorter, but to bound without delay from hill to hill�. Reference

� R.F. Vol. in (1931). Our efforts to obtain a copy of this work have met with no success.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Erman, I. p. 314.

has already been made (p. 228 above) to the account given by the English traveller Coxe, during the latter part of the eighteenth century, ofnbsp;the universal practice of turning the discourse of every-day life intonbsp;poetry, and the proficiency of the Russian peasants in extemporenbsp;composition of this kind. The passage however deserves to be quoted atnbsp;length here because it is full of interest for the study of the genesis andnbsp;milieu of village poetry:

�In our route through Russia I was greatly surprised at the propensity of the natives to singing. Even the peasants, who acted in the capacity of coachmen and postilions, were no sooner mounted thannbsp;they began to warble an air, and continued it, without the least intermission, for several hours. But what still more astonished me was, thatnbsp;they performed occasionally in parts; and I have frequently observednbsp;them engaged in a kind of musical dialogue, making reciprocal questionsnbsp;and responses, as if they were chanting (if I may so express myself) theirnbsp;ordinary conversation. The postilions sing, as I have just observed, fromnbsp;the beginning to the end of a stage; the soldiers sing continually duringnbsp;their march ; the countrymen sing during the most laborious occupations ;nbsp;the public-houses re-echo with their carols; and in a still evening I havenbsp;frequently heard the air vibrate with the notes from the surroundingnbsp;villages.. .. The words of the songs are mostly in prose, and often extempore, according to the immediate invention or recollection of thenbsp;singer; perhaps an ancient legend, the history of an enormous giant, anbsp;declaration of love, a dialogue between a lover and his mistress, anbsp;murder, or the description of a beautiful girl.... I have been also informed that the subject of the song frequently alludes to the formernbsp;adventures of the singer, or to his present situation; and that the peasantsnbsp;adapt the topics of their common discourse and their disputes with eachnbsp;other to this general air; which, altogether, forms an extraordinarynbsp;effect; and led me to conjecture, as I have before expressed myself, thatnbsp;they chanted their ordinary conversation.�^

As we have seen, Rybnikov found the compositions of the village poets flourishing in a peculiarly high degree in the Onega district. Innbsp;addition to the two volumes of byliny which he recorded from this area,nbsp;a third volume is occupied with occasional poems and poems of socialnbsp;ritual, as well as some slighter poems or typical folk-songs. It is, ofnbsp;course, in the nature of things that poetry of this kind is ephemeral, andnbsp;the great majority of such compositions perish unrecorded. The elementsnbsp;which survive and reappear in each fresh composition are the conven-

tional form and formulae of many types of such compositions. What might almost be called the Platonic �idea� of a given type of poem survives from generation to generation. Occasionally, of course, individualnbsp;poems are also perpetuated, though how long they would retain theirnbsp;verbal identity is doubtful. Rybnikov quotes a ^aplachka composed bynbsp;a young woman on the death of her cousin, which, on account of itsnbsp;excellence, �immediately acquired notoriety, and was adopted by othernbsp;women, who now sing it whenever a similar calamity Befalls them�nbsp;(cf. p. 230 above).

Rybnikov has recorded many interesting data in regard to the recitation and composition of such poetry in the Onega region. The social milieu in which it is current is today identical with that of the byliny.nbsp;Rybnikov obtained a number of poems of this class in the Province ofnbsp;Olonets from the identical singers who also furnished him with thenbsp;hyliny, and a large number of poems of social ritual were obtained bynbsp;him from the women of the same class and region. He noted that thenbsp;women had their own range of themes and styles of poetry as specialisednbsp;as those of the men, but different.

He was impressed by the practice prevalent in the Onega district of composing poetry on every important occasion in the life of an individual. �Almost every woman�, he says, speaking of the neighbourhood north of Lake Onega, �can give expression to her feelings ofnbsp;distress either by improvising a new lament (yaplachka}, or by adaptingnbsp;an old one to foe circumstances.�� When foe individual did not feelnbsp;able either to compose or to adapt some composition already in existence,nbsp;she called in a specialist, or a professional poet, to compose one for her.nbsp;It is chiefly due to the professionals that foe ancient traditional form andnbsp;diction of this popular ritual poetry have been so faithfully preserved innbsp;North Russia. In districts where the professional no longer exists, thesenbsp;ancient forms and formulae have almost disappeared.�

In Great Russia, in foe districts from which Rybnikov obtained most of his material, and from which much of our most interestingnbsp;information on this subject is derived, foe professional is generally anbsp;woman. In the neighbourhood of Lake Onega she is known as thenbsp;plakalshchitsa, or voplenitsa, �waller�, fromplakat^ �to weep�, and vopit^nbsp;�to lament�, or �wail�. Rybnikov became acquainted with a voplamp;nitsanbsp;who enjoyed a great reputation for her knowledge of traditional ritualnbsp;and her proficiency in extemporising songs, and who was frequently

summoned to remote parts to officiate at ceremonies. From her he obtained a number of wedding and funeral songs.�

The plakalshchitsa or vopUnitsa is a person of great importance and prestige, and is in great demand. She it is who supervises social ritualnbsp;and acts as mistress of ceremonies at important social functions, such asnbsp;weddings, funerals, and commemoration feasts. On such occasions shenbsp;must see to it that the traditional rites are observed, must settle thenbsp;details of the ceremonial, and chant appropriate songs on behalf of thenbsp;principals concerned, in which, standing by their side, she gives expression in improvised song to the sentiments which they may benbsp;expected to feel on such occasions, or�alternatively�prompts them tonbsp;song and action on their own behalf. At weddings it is her function tonbsp;prompt the bride; at funerals, the widow and the orphan.

Her labours are often sustained through a considerable period of time. On the day of betrothal she attends the bride, singing :^aplachki,nbsp;laments expressive of the sorrow felt by the girl at leaving her home,nbsp;and the dread inspired by the prospect of a life among strangers. Shenbsp;accompanies the girl on.the prescribed visit to her relatives, bewailingnbsp;her coming separation. Through all the numerous ceremonies whichnbsp;precede the actual wedding in the church she attends and prompts her,nbsp;supplying her with songs suited to every step in the elaborate ritual.

It is interesting to find that the ska:(iteli of Olonets are sometimes equally expert at extemporising the songs chanted according to ancientnbsp;custom on occasions of social ritual. We learn from Sokolov that one ofnbsp;the great ska^^iteli of our own time, Fedor Andre�vich Konashkov, isnbsp;also a great expert in north Russian wedding rites, especially thenbsp;utterances proper to the master of ceremonies at a north Russiannbsp;peasant wedding. �In this capacity he is famous throughout an exceedingly wide circle, and is invited to the most remote villages. With anbsp;kerchief over his shoulder he rides at the head of the wedding processionnbsp;and entertains the guests with his observations. His speech throughoutnbsp;must consist of improvisations. Readiness of speech and wit, combinednbsp;with dignity, must attain to their highest degree of excellence. Konashkov adapts to this purpose the rich verbal and pictorial treasures whichnbsp;he has got from the byliny, and this circumstance makes his part in anbsp;wedding all the more valuable.��

� For Rybnikov�s account of the voplenitsa and her r�pertoire, see i. p. Ixv f.j in. p. 3 ff. Cf. also Ralston, Songs, p. 341 f.

the peasants of the Onega district is the large number of occasions on which such ceremonial songs appear to have been required by thenbsp;exigencies of social etiquette. Indeed in the region to the north of thenbsp;Lake, e.g. round Petrozavodsk, social life is exceedingly highly developed, and has become correspondingly ceremonial in character.^nbsp;When the svakha (cf. p. 232 f. above) comes to consult the bride�s father,nbsp;the bride laments the impending separation in song. Songs of a livelynbsp;or cheerful cast, such as are deemed suitable to the occasion, are sungnbsp;at the feast which accompanies the betrothal. We have seen also thatnbsp;t^aplachki are sung by the bride as she visits her friends and relatives onnbsp;the days ensuing, when her plait is cut off and her hair bound up,nbsp;when she receives the bridegroom, and on many other occasions duringnbsp;the ceremony. Similarly laments are sung by mothers over their sonsnbsp;who go to the army, by relatives over the dead, and by wives and mothersnbsp;year after year at the graves of husbands and sons long dead. At timesnbsp;these laments are improvised on the spot. At times they appear to benbsp;handed on by oral tradition.^

Songs are sung also at social gatherings, the posid�lki and bes�dy and vechery (�evening parties�) being favourite occasions. In Olonets thenbsp;Russian peasants, men and girls, assemble at an appointed with anbsp;large living room, often paying a small entrance fee, as if it were anbsp;clubroom. In some districts, such as Little Russia, and in the districtnbsp;south of the Urals, the girls sit and card and spin flax, singing at theirnbsp;work, much as Aksakov describes the maids doing at Aksakovonbsp;in Years of Childhood. Later in the evening, as the young men beginnbsp;to drop in, the work is laid aside and dancing begins, sometimesnbsp;to the accompaniment of songs sung by the girls. A man at the doornbsp;takes the entrance fees, and music, when required, is paid for bynbsp;general subscription. Ralston quotes the opening of one of the skaikinbsp;in Afanasev�s collection in which one of these vechernitsy or villagenbsp;soir�es is described.3 We are told that the party commences onnbsp;November 30th, and lasts for a week. The girls brew and bake innbsp;preparation, and the boys bring music, and dancing takes place. It isnbsp;interesting to note that on such occasions the songs are not chosennbsp;capriciously, but follow an established sequence.^

Such were the scenes of entertainment among the peasants of Olonets and elsewhere last century. Interesting descriptions of the posid�lki and

3 Ralston, R.F.T. p. 10. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�� Ralston, Songs, p. 38.

of a vecherinka in the neighbourhood of Ekaterinburg and Tobolsk are given by the German traveller Erman/ who was present at some ofnbsp;these gatherings in 1828. They correspond substantially to those ofnbsp;Olonets and of Little Russia, except that the balalaika was frequentlynbsp;introduced to accompany the songs, tales, and character dancing withnbsp;�action songs�, which form a part of the entertainment. Masking andnbsp;fortune-telling or �divining� also frequently took place.

The wealth of Russian ska^ki is enormous, and it is not surprising that we possess more information relating to their circulation than to that ofnbsp;saga proper. Yet even here our information is slight, while so far as wenbsp;are aware we possess no information relating to the composition ornbsp;initial circulation�what we may term the oral � publication ��of a singlenbsp;ska�:{ka. The great collection of Afanasev contains hardly any directnbsp;(editorial) information as to the milieu from which his ska:[ki are recorded. It is not improbable that in recent years more interest is taken innbsp;this subject than in the past; but if this is so the evidence has not yetnbsp;been made available to western scholars. Fortunately some little information can be gleaned from the internal evidence of the ska':{ki themselves, and from notices in Russian biographies of last century.

The ska^ki (folk-tales) themselves bear testimony that they are a popular source of entertainment in the i:^ba or peasant�s hut. Ralstonnbsp;refers to a story in Khudyakov�s collection (Vol. n, p. 65) in which anbsp;boy who had been carried off by a Baba Yaga�a. kind of witch monsternbsp;�^was found by his sister �sitting in an arm-chair, while the catnbsp;Jeremiah told him ska^ki and sang him songs�.� In another story innbsp;Ralston�s collection a durak (fool) is sent to take care of the children of anbsp;village during the absence of their parents, and is told to collect themnbsp;in one of the cottages and tell them ska^ki'^�in fact, a kind of impromptu creche. A ska^ka referred to below relates to the recitation ofnbsp;ska^ki at night in the i^ba or household of people of humble class.

There is evidence to show that the sagas and even the ska^ki, like the byliny, formed at one time the entertainment of the upper classes. Thenbsp;Russian poet Zhukovski was preoccupied to the end of his life with thenbsp;study of versions of native ska^ki.'^ Pushkin refers to the delight which henbsp;still felt in mature years in listening to the recitation of ska^ki by his oldnbsp;nurse. In one of his letters, written in 1855, we read: �I listen to ska^ki

� Erman, i. pp. 271 f., 312 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Ralston, R.F.T. p. 9 f.

3 p. IO. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;4 Afanasev, i. p. xlvi.

Aksakov�s evidence also suggests that in the eighteenth century the country gentry took an unsophisticated pleasure in listening to prosenbsp;sagas. The cultivation of saga was certainly carried on in the householdnbsp;of Aksakovo, Aksakov�s home during the time of his grandfather.nbsp;The housekeeper, Pelageya by name, was regularly employed bynbsp;the old man to send him to sleep by telling him stories at night.�nbsp;She had been for some time in Astrakhan, and had learnt manynbsp;stories (ska^ki) from the merchants congregated there. One of hernbsp;stories�apparently an Oriental folk-tale�is narrated by Aksakov innbsp;full.3 Aksakov tells us that her special qualifications as a story-teller werenbsp;her extensive r�pertoire, and her ability to keep awake all night.

Aksakov appears to attribute Pelageya�s proficiency as a story-teller, as well as the richness of her r�pertoire, to her sojourn among thenbsp;eastern merchants in Astrakhan ; but the habit of telling stories to inducenbsp;sleep had been practised in Russia for many centuries, and the Aksakovnbsp;family in this, as in other respects, was conservative, and no doubtnbsp;typical of the more backward among the landed gentry. Rambaudnbsp;mentions the fact that in the sixteenth century, �the rich never went tonbsp;sleep without being lulled by tales told by some popular story-teller.nbsp;Ivan the Terrible always had three, who succeeded each other at hisnbsp;bedside.�'^

We have traditional evidence for the same practice in a ska^ka, which suggests that the habit was a common one. According to this story, anbsp;peasant had a wife who was so fond of stories that her husband is saidnbsp;to have found it �rather costly�. One day a wayfarer called and beggednbsp;a night�s lodging, and the peasant asked if he could tell stories. Thenbsp;peasant replied that he could tell stories �all night long�. The delightednbsp;peasant invited him in, and when supper was over, they lay down tonbsp;sleep, and the stranger began to tell his stories.5

It is interesting to observe that the guest is regarded as especially expert because, like Pelageya, he can tell stories �all night�. In thisnbsp;story, as at Aksakov�s home, and as was the case also with Ivan thenbsp;Terrible, it is only after they have had supper and lain down to sleep

3 The story is called �The Scarlet Flower�, and is printed as an appendix in Years of Childhood, p. 415 fF.

History, I. p. 321 f. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;5 Magnus, Folk-Tales, p. 333.

that the story-telling begins. We are not told whether Ivan�s storytellers were professionals or merely household servants with a gift for story-telling. Pelageya herself was a serf. The ska^a just referred tonbsp;seems to suggest that among these night story-tellers every man had hisnbsp;price, and that, moreover, the custom was not confined to the rich.

From what has been said it will be evident that story-telling has been a source of entertainment in Russia for many centuries. Like the byliny,nbsp;the sagas have suffered a decline from the high esteem in which theynbsp;were once held, both at court and also in the monasteries. The introduction of printing and the circulation of books have brought � enlightenment � and culture and a wider circle of interests, and the sagas havenbsp;become the entertainment chiefly of old folk and children on winternbsp;evenings. The spread of education, tardy though it has been in Russia,nbsp;is finally killing the saga as surely as it is killing the bylina.

Books and periodicals are referred to under the name of the author, sometimes followed by one or more prominent words of the title of the book, or the initial letters of the words forming the titles of books or periodicals.nbsp;A list of the periodicals referred to will be found immediately following thenbsp;list of books given below.

Afanasev, a. N. Narodn�a Russk�a Ska^hi (� Russian Popular Tales�). 3rded. 2 vols. Moscow, 1893.

Aksakov, S. T. Semeinaya Khronika i Vospominan�a (�Family Chronicle and Reminiscences�). Moscow, 1856.

----The above, translated by J. D. Duff (from the edition published at Moscow in 1900), under thenbsp;titles of

Bezsonov, P. a. Kaleki Perekho^hie (�Wandering Kal�ki�). 6 parts. Moscow, 1861-4. See alsonbsp;under Kir�evski.

Blakey, K. � Folk Tales of Ancient Russia (Byliny of Lord Novgorod the Great)�. InS.R. in (1924-5), p. 52 ff-

Braun. �Das Historische Russland im Nordischen Schrifttum des X-XIV. Jahrhunderts.� In Festschrift f�r Eugen Mogk. Halle an der Saale, 1924.

Brodski, N. L., Mendelson, N. M., and Sidorov, N. P. Istoriko-Literaturnaya Khrestomatya.nbsp;Pt I. Moscow and Petrograd, 1922.

Chronique dite de Nestor, traduite... avec introduction et commentaire critique par Louis L�ger. Paris, 1884. Publications par l�Ecole des Languesnbsp;orientales vivantes. 11� S�rie, Vol. xiii.

CoxE, W. Travels into Poland, Russia, Sweden and Denmark. 3 vols. London, 1784-90.

Aksakov, Russian Gentleman.

Aksakov, Childhood.

Aksakov, Schoolboy. Bezsonov.

Blakey.

Braun.

Brodski, etc.

Chadwick.

Ancient Chronicle.

Coxe.

Sheffer.

Dormidontov. Kratiki Kurs Is tori Russkoy Liter a-tury. Pt I (�Short Course in the History of Russian Literature�). Tallinna Eesti Kirjastus-Uhisus, 1923.

Erman, G. A. Travels in Siberia..., translated from the German by W. D. Cooley. 2 vols. London,nbsp;1848.

Fletcher, G. Russia at the Close of the Sixteenth Century. Comprising the treatise � Of the Russenbsp;Commonwealth� byG.F.,and the travels of Sirnbsp;J. Horsey, now for the first time printed entirenbsp;from his own manuscript. Ed. by E. A. Bond.nbsp;Hakluyt Society, London, 1856.

Gilferding, a. F. One^hsk�a Byliny. 2nd ed. in 3 vols. St Petersburg, 1894-1900.

Jenkinson, A. Early Voyages and Travels to Russia and Persia. Edited by E. D. Morgan and C. H.nbsp;Coote. Hakluyt Society, London, 1886.

Kir�evski, P. V. P�sni Sobrann�a (� Collected Songs�). Ed. P. A. Bezsonov. 7 parts. Moscow,nbsp;i860.

----Second edition (unchanged). Moscow, 1868, etc. (We have made use of both editions, butnbsp;generally the second. Unless otherwise indicatednbsp;references are to the latter.)

Klyuchevski, V. O. History of Russia, translated by C. J. Hogarth in 3 vols. Our references are tonbsp;Vol. I, London, 1911.

Dum�zil, R.�.S.

Dum�zil, Nartes. Eck.

Eisner.

Erman.

Fletcher. Horsey.

Gilferding.

Glazunov.

Hapgood, Songs.

Hapgood, Rambles.

Fletcher. Horsey.

Napea.

Kir�evski.

Lyatski, E. Skarjtel Ivan T. Ryabinin i ego Byliny. The Reciter Ivan T. Ryabinin, and his Byliny.�)nbsp;Moscow, 1895.

Mansikka, V. J. Zl/e Religion der Ostslaven. Vol. i. (fuellen Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia. Helsingfors,nbsp;1922.

Mazon, A. �Le Centaure de la L�gende Vieille� Russe de Salomon et Kitovras.� In R.�.S. vunbsp;(1927)-nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;, _

-----� Les Bylines russes.� In Revue des Cours et Conf�rences, 3 March 1932 (Paris).

----�Il�ja de Murom dans l��pop�e Germanique.� In M�langes offerts � M. Nicolas lorga. Paris, 1933.

Michell, R., Forbes, N. and Beazley, C. R. The Chronicle of Novgorod. London, 1914.

Miller, V. F. Ocherki Russkoy Narodnoy Slovesnosti. Vol. I, Moscow, 1897; Vol. H, Moscow, 1910;nbsp;Vol. III, Moscow, 1924.

Miller, V. and Tikhonravov. Byliny Novoy i Nedavney Zapisi i:(^ Rainykh M�stnostey Rossi.nbsp;Moscow, 1908.

Mirsky, Prince D. S. �Old Russian Literature.� In S.R. HI (1924-5), p. 74 ff.

----A History of Russia from the birth of Peter the Great to the death of Alexander H. London,nbsp;1902.

Murko, M. Geschichte der �lteren s�dslawischen Litteraturen. Leipzig, 1908. Die Litteraturen des Ostens. Bd. v, Abt. 2.

----�Die S�dslawischen Literaturen.� In Hinneberg, Die Kultur der Gegenwart; Die Osteurop�ischennbsp;Literaturen, I. IX, p. 194 ff.

Abbreviation

Lyatski.

Magnus, Ballads.

Magnus, Folk-Tales.

Magnus, Igor.

Mansikka.

Markov.

Mazon, Kitovras.

Mazon, Mikula.

Mazon, Svjatogor.

Mazon, Bylines.

Mazon, Ilya.

Michell.

Miller, Ocherki.

Miller, Byliny.

Mirski.

Morfill, Russia.

Morfill, History.

Morfill, S.L.

Murko, G.�.s.L.

Murko, S.L.

Nisbet Bain.

Olearius, a. The J^oyages and Travells of the Ambassadors, sent by Frederick, Duke of Holstein, to the Great Duke of Muscovy, and the King ofnbsp;Persia... rendered into English by J. Davis.nbsp;2nd ed. London, 1669.

Rambaud, a. The History of Russia from the earliest times to 1877.... Translated by L. B. Lang.nbsp;2 vols. London, 1879.

----La Russie �pique. Etude sur les Chansons h�ro�ques de la Russie.... Paris, 1876.

Rozniecki, s. Paraegiske Minder i den russiske H�lte-digtning. Copenhagen, 1915.

Rybnikov, P. N. P�sni Sobrann�a (�Songs�). Ed. Gruzinski. 3 vols. Moscow, 1909-10.

Rzhiga, V. � De l��volution des pi�ces mobiles dans les bylines.� In R.�.S. xiii (1933).

Schr�der, F. R. �Skandinavien und der Orient im Mittelalter.� G.R.M. viii (1920), pp. 204 ff.,nbsp;281 ff.

Shambinago, S. �Istoricheskva Perezhivan�a v Starinakh o Sukhan�.� In a Collection of articlesnbsp;presented to V. O. Klyuchevski. Moscow, 1909.

Shklovsky, J. W. In Far North-East Siberia. Translated by Edwards and Shklovsky. London, 1916.

Sokolov, B. and Y. Russki Folklor. 4 vols. Moscow, 1929-32. (For further details of this publication,nbsp;see R.�.S. xii (1932), p. 257.)

SoLOVEv, S. M. Istorya Rossi s Drevneyshikh Vremen. 2nd ed. St Petersburg, 189$, etc. (The columnsnbsp;are numbered continuously throughout thenbsp;volume. The pagination is not numbered.)

295

Abbreviation Olearius.

Pares.

Ralston, R.F.T.

Ralston, Songs.

Rambaud, History.

Rambaud, R.�.

Rozniecki.

Rybnikov.

Rzhiga, R.E.S.

Schr�der.

Shambinago,

LP.S.S.

Sheffer.

Shklovsky.

Sokolov, Byliny.

Sokolov, R.F.

Sokolov, R.�.S.

Sokolov, Slavische Rundschau.

Solovev, col. �.

Author and Title of Book

Speranski, M. Istor�a Drevney Russkoy Literatury. Moscow, 1914.

----Russkaya Ustnaya Slovesnost, Moscow, 1917.

Stender-Petersen, a. Die Var�gersage als Quelle der AltTussischen Chronik. Leipzig, 1934.

Studer, Ella. Russisches in der Thidreksaga. Bern, �931-

V�is�nen, a, O. �Das Zupf-instrument gusli bei den Wolgav�lkern.� In Juhlakirja Yrj� Wichmannin.,nbsp;published as Vol. LVin of the M�moires de lanbsp;Soci�t� Finno-Ougrienne, Helsingfors, 1928,nbsp;p. 303 ff.

Wiener, L. Anthology of Russian Literature from the earliest period to the present time. 2 parts. London and New York, 1902�3.

PERIODICALS

Archiv f�r slavische Philologie. Berlin, 1876. Etnograficheskago Obo^yenya.

Germanisch-Romanische Monatsschrift. Heidelberg, 1909, etc.

Revue des �tudes Slaves.

Russkaya Mysl.

Slavia.

Slavische Rundschau.

Slavonic Review.

Eiestnik Evropy, 1868.

Zeitschrift f�r slavische Philologie. Leipzig, 1924� .

Archiv s.P.

E.O.

G.R.M.

R.�.S.

R. M.

Slavia.

Slavische Rundschau.

S. R.

y.E.

Z.S.P.

UNLIKE the peoples whose literatures were discussed in the first Volume the Yugoslavs� possess a large body of poetry� whichnbsp;is still�or was until very recently�carried on by oral tradition.nbsp;Before the beginning of last century comparatively little of this poetrynbsp;seems to have been committed to writing. Since that time, however,nbsp;the number of poems which have been published must amount tonbsp;several thousand, though very many of them are variants.

The collection of this large body of poetry is due in the main to the fortunate circumstance that Yugoslav scholars who were interested in itnbsp;got to work while the conditions of life which prevailed in many partsnbsp;of the country were still �barbaric�. Indeed Vuk Stjepanovic Karadzic,^nbsp;the greatest of all the collectors, published his first volume in 1814,nbsp;when Serbia was under Turkish rule; and other volumes were publishednbsp;not much later. Towards the end of the century large numbers ofnbsp;poems were collected in Bosnia and Hercegovina within twenty yearsnbsp;after the Turks had evacuated those regions. The other districts whichnbsp;seem to have yielded most material are Montenegro and the old �Militarynbsp;Frontier�. The latter had continually been receiving refugees fromnbsp;Serbia and Bosnia, while the former was in a state of more or less constant guerilla warfare, as we shall see later. With these exceptions, notnbsp;very much seems to have been obtained from the lands which hadnbsp;always, or for a long time past, been free from Turkish rule.4 There are,

� We use the term �Yugoslav� in the restricted sense of Serbo-Croatian. There is also a large amount of Slovenian oral poetry; but we have made no study of it. Wenbsp;understand that it is of a very different character.

� A good deal of saga (including heroic saga) is also said to be preserved. But nothing of this kind has been accessible to us, except translations of folktales.

3 As regards the pronunciation of the letters�c corresponds to Engl, ts, c to ck (in child)h (final) to Scot, ch (in loch)yj to Engl.y (in j'ear), � to sh, f to Engl, f, f tonbsp;J in measure; c represents more or less the initial sound in Engl. tune. We follownbsp;Croatian orthography, which very often has je or ije for Serbian e; otherwise thenbsp;differences are very slight. Dj and gj are often used indifferently, especially in thenbsp;name �George�.

�* Apart from jenske pjesme (see below), in which some of these districts, especially on the coast, seem to be rich.

however, some older collections of poetry, especially from Ragusa and southern Dalmatia, preserved in MSS. of die seventeenth and eighteenthnbsp;centuries.

Oral poetry�narodnepjesme, lit. �poems of the people��as distinct from written poetry, is still current in some parts of Yugoslavia^ andnbsp;new poems relating to events of the day are said to have been composednbsp;during the Balkan Wars of 1912-13 and the Great War. We have not seennbsp;any of this recent poetry; but we understand that it follows traditionalnbsp;lines. Owing to the progress of education, however, no part of Yugoslavia is now dependent upon oral tradition for its literature. Oralnbsp;tradition indeed, in the strict sense, will probably soon be a thing of thenbsp;past, though many of the poems will doubtless be remembered throughnbsp;the medium of books, owing to their popularity. In general we shallnbsp;confine our attention to poems which were composed before i860.

Yugoslav oral poetry is not a thing of recent growth. References to the recitation of heroic poetry occur in records which date from the earlynbsp;part of the sixteenth century; and there are much earlier references tonbsp;oral poetry of other kinds. Many heroic poems are concerned withnbsp;persons and events of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, thoughnbsp;some scholars hold that this kind of poetry did not originate before 1500.nbsp;This is a question which we shall have to discuss later. The oldest textsnbsp;of oral poetry which have been preserved are two heroic poems included in Petar Hektorovic�s Ribanje (�Fishing�), written in 1556,nbsp;which the author states that he had heard from fishermen in the islandnbsp;of Hvar (Lesina).

In spite of the prevalence of oral poetry (and saga) written literature was at no time wholly unknown in any of the Yugoslav lands. Indeednbsp;the history of writing in these lands can be traced back to much earliernbsp;times than that of oral poetry. This is true not only of Greek andnbsp;Roman writing, which survived in certain districts from the sixthnbsp;century, before the Slavs crossed the Danube. The language of the Slavsnbsp;themselves was committed to writing by the missionary saints Cyril andnbsp;Methodius, c. 860, and during the following centuries both the earlynbsp;Slavonic alphabets�first the Glagolitic, and later the Cyrillic�werenbsp;widely used for ecclesiastical purposes. In the thirteenth centurynbsp;Serbia became the chief centre of Slavonic literary activity; and writing

' Cf. Murko, Rev. des �tudies Slaves, xni. i6 ff-, where an interesting account is given of the present conditions. In remote districts the tradition seems sometimesnbsp;to be still strictly oral. In other places this kind of poetry is fairly widely cultivatednbsp;�often by educated people�but printed collections of poems are used.

301 now was not wholly unknown even to the laity, at all events to membersnbsp;of the princely families. Two of the rulers themselves are known asnbsp;authors, Stephen (Stjepan) the First-Crowned (1196-1228), who wrotenbsp;the life of his father (Stjepan Nemanja), and Stjepan Lazarevic (1389-1427), to whom are attributed many translations, as well as some originalnbsp;works. The literature, however, continued to be essentially of ecclesiastical character. The most important exception was the code of Lawsnbsp;promulgated by Stjepan Dusan in 1349.

The western districts, Dalmatia and Croatia, came under the ecclesiastical influence of Rome in the tenth century; and the use of the Slavonic language by the Church was maintained only with difficulty,nbsp;though it lasted down to the age of printing. In other respects also thesenbsp;districts� came gradually more and more under Western inffuence. Thenbsp;Roman alphabet was used for writing Slavonic, except for liturgicalnbsp;purposes, from the fifteenth century; and even before this there seemsnbsp;to have been a good deal of religious poetry written in Glagolitic, butnbsp;based on models derived from Italy. Some translations of romances alsonbsp;were made in the fourteenth century�likewise derived, in part at least,nbsp;from Italian sources. Then, late in the fifteenth century, the inffuencenbsp;of the Renaissance began to be felt, especially in Ragusa, where anbsp;voluminous literature was produced, of very varied character but almostnbsp;wholly in poetry and based on Italian models.� The same influence wasnbsp;felt, though to a slighter extent, in other Dalmatian towns and in westernnbsp;Croatia�indeed wherever Roman writing and print had come into use.nbsp;The northern districts were also affected by the Reformation.

In Ragusa and the greater part of Dalmatia the course of civilisation was at no time seriously interrupted; and literary activity never ceased,nbsp;though after the seventeenth century it declined somewhat. The samenbsp;is true of western Croatia, though the civilisation here was less advanced.nbsp;But all the eastern Yugoslav lands, which included almost the whole ofnbsp;the Orthodox population, were conquered by the Turks�Serbia innbsp;1459, Bosnia in 1463, Hercegovina in 1482, the (Hungarian) lands northnbsp;of the Danube, together with Belgrade, in 1561-26. In these lands suchnbsp;progress in civilisation as had been made during the previous centuriesnbsp;seems now to have been lost; and they were practically unaffected by

� It is to be noted that Dalmatia was for the most part under Venetian rule from c. 1000. About a century later Croatia was conquered by the Hungarians. Soonnbsp;afterwards they obtained a footing also in Dalmatia, for the possession of which theynbsp;contended with the Venetians for the next three centuries.

the influence of the Renaissance. A few religious books were printed during the first century after the conquest; but this came to annbsp;end before the close of the sixteenth century, and for the next twonbsp;centuries the monasteries were still dependent upon MSS. The wholenbsp;of this period was sterile, apart from a few chronicles and religious worksnbsp;on traditional lines. Outside the monasteries there was no education.

Towards the end of the seventeenth century the Turks were expelled from Hungary by the Austrians. This event soon brought the Yugoslavsnbsp;who lived north of the Danube and the Sava into contact with Westernnbsp;civilisation, and led to a considerable development of educational andnbsp;literary activity on modern lines in the latter part of the eighteenthnbsp;century. From this quarter the movement spread to Serbia after thenbsp;Wars of Independence. It is said that neither Kara-Gjorgje, who led thenbsp;first war (1804-13), nor Milos Obrenovic, who ruled�with intervals�nbsp;from 1815 to i860, was able to read. In Montenegro there seems to havenbsp;been little provision for education before the reign of Nikola (i860).nbsp;Bosnia and Hercegovina remained isolated and out of contact with thenbsp;civilised world until the Austrian occupation (1878).

From what has been said above it will be seen that the various Yugoslav lands have had a very different history during the last fivenbsp;centuries. The western districts, which were not conquered by thenbsp;Turks, remained in contact with Western civilisation, and participated,nbsp;at least to some extent, in the intellectual and literary movements of thenbsp;times. The most advanced place was Ragusa (Dubrovnik), which had anbsp;separate and peculiar history. The Ragusans accepted Turkish sovereignty, but secured internal independence. By this course they acquired more or less a monopoly of trade between the Turkish dominionsnbsp;and the west. In wealth and culture Ragusa was far in advance of thenbsp;Venetian possessions in Dalmatia, and comparable rather with Venicenbsp;itself. In striking contrast with this culture was the state of the morenbsp;eastern and larger part of the Yugoslav area, which was under directnbsp;Turkish rule for periods varying from two centuries, in the north, tonbsp;four centuries or more, in Bosnia and the extreme south. During thenbsp;periods in question�perhaps more especially during the seventeenthnbsp;and eighteenth centuries�the conditions of life throughout this areanbsp;were those of barbarism. Such education as there was seems to havenbsp;been restricted on one side to ecclesiastics, on the other to a limitednbsp;number of officials, who were mostly Mohammedans; but the twonbsp;systems had nothing in common except mutual hostility.

303 pjesme^ are derived�apart from those which are preserved in old MSS.nbsp;The great bulk of them come from the regions in which Turkish rulenbsp;lasted until the nineteenth century. Within certain limits, which will benbsp;noted later, it may be said that oral literature was characteristic of thenbsp;Yugoslavs who were under Turkish rule, written literature of those whonbsp;lived outside the Turkish borders.

One exceptional case is that of Montenegro. The Montenegrins themselves maintain that they have always been independent; but this claim is not generally allowed by historians. Apparently the ruling familynbsp;embraced Islam about the beginning of the sixteenth century, followingnbsp;the example of most of the Bosnian aristocracy; and the greater part ofnbsp;the country then came under Turkish rule. But it may be that thenbsp;rugged and barren western district was never effectively occupied. Atnbsp;all events it was able to maintain its freedom from the close of the seventeenth century. But its history, as revealed in the numerous narodnenbsp;pjesme, seems to have been one of almost continuous raiding and bordernbsp;warfare. Down to the middle of the nineteenth century education wasnbsp;practically limited to the family of prince-bishops; but the last of these,nbsp;Peter II, is generally recognised by the Yugoslavs as their greatest poet.nbsp;It is of interest to note that this bishop established a printing-press atnbsp;Cettinje, after an interval of nearly three centuries and a half; but beforenbsp;many years it was converted into bullets.

In this book we are concerned only with narodne pjesme^ not with written literature of ecclesiastical or cosmopolitan affinities. For thenbsp;former we have used the term �oral poetry�, and there can be no doubtnbsp;that this description is generally correct. Most of the reciters from whomnbsp;the poems were obtained were unable to read; some of them werenbsp;blind. But we do not know to what extent the poems are now preservednbsp;by oral tradition; for conditions have greatly changed. Most of thosenbsp;who now recite the poems have probably learned to read, and printednbsp;copies are easily purchasable.

With the character of the recitation we shall have to deal in a later chapter. It may, however, be noted here that junaike pjesme�whichnbsp;include heroic poems (see below)�are usually accompanied by anbsp;stringed instrument, either the gusle or the tambura,^ and that very

� In particular the �men�s poems� (see below). �Women�s poems� (^enske pjesme) seem to have had a wider circulation; large numbers have been obtained from thenbsp;Adriatic coast.

� The gusle is a kind of primitive fiddle with only one string, but resembling a

great freedom is allowed in the treatment of the subject. Variants are extremely numerous and sometimes show little or no verbal resemblance to one another. Indeed a man cannot repeat a poem in exactlynbsp;the same words; the faculty cultivated by the reciters or minstrels isnbsp;improvisation rather than memorisation.

The authors of the poems are usually unknown; the reciters can give the names only of those from whom they themselves heard them.nbsp;Karadzic� suspected that two of the Montenegrin poems which henbsp;collected were derived from poems of Bishop Peter I (St Peter), whichnbsp;had gradually been transformed into narodne pjesme and rendered unrecognisable. Occasionally, as we shall see, the history of a poem cannbsp;be traced back for centuries by the help of variants in the MS. collections.nbsp;We do not know whether minstrels� books have ever been found; butnbsp;there appear to be more or less trustworthy records of soldiers who hadnbsp;collections of poems in Turkish writing. Such cases, however, must havenbsp;been quite exceptional among an almost entirely illiterate population.

With regard to the collections of poems contained in MSS. of the eighteenth century and earlier, it is to be noted that many of the poems,nbsp;known as bugarstice, have a different metre from that which is regularlynbsp;employed in modern narrative narodne. pjesme. The latter consists of anbsp;uniform decasyllabic line with caesura after the fourth syllable.� Thenbsp;bugarstice on the other hand have an irregular and much longer line�nbsp;usually, though by no means always, eight syllables in the second halfnbsp;(after the caesura), and a more variable number (but usually between sixnbsp;and nine) in the first half. Moreover the continuity of the metre is innbsp;many poems interrupted by the introduction of short lines�^usually ofnbsp;six syllables, but sometimes less�at regular or irregular intervals. Innbsp;one type the second, fifth, eighth, eleventh (etc.) lines are short, and innbsp;such poems stops occur most frequently after the third, sixth, ninth,nbsp;twelfth (etc.) lines. The short lines are not refrains, though often theynbsp;are not essential to the sense. The bugarstica seems to have gone completely out of use in the course of the eighteenth century.

banjo in appearance. A picture of a man playing this instrument is given by Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, facing p. 165. The tambura, which is used onlynbsp;by Mohammedans, seems to be a kind of mandoline with two strings.

� The decasyllabic poems preserved in MSS. of cent, xviii at Ragusa and Perast almost all contain a number of irregular lines. Many other forms of metre occur innbsp;(enske pjesme-, for an account of these see Subotic, op. cit. p. 26 if. It may be observednbsp;here that rhyme (which is usual in literary poetry) is of fairly frequent occurrence innbsp;^enskepjesme. In �men�s poems� it is extremely rare.

It has been disputed whether the bugarstice are properly to be regarded as narodne pjesme, or whether they were of literary origin. The totalnbsp;number of these poems, which have been preserved, is said to be aboutnbsp;a hundred; and of these there are several which have the appearance ofnbsp;literary compositions.� But many others give quite a different impressionnbsp;and bear unmistakable traces of oral transmission. Frequently indeednbsp;this is placed beyond reasonable doubt by the existence of variants. Innbsp;other cases we meet with expressions which are characteristic of oralnbsp;poetry. Sometimes the poem ends with a wish for the happiness of thenbsp;master of the house or those who are present. Hektorovic records thenbsp;melody or rhythm {naSiri) of the chant with which the fishermen�s poemsnbsp;were rendered. The literary bugarstica must at least be regarded as thenbsp;exception rather than the rule.^ It may be observed here that the termnbsp;bugarhica 3 is doubtless connected with the verb bugafiti^ � to chant ornbsp;lament��the word used by Hektorovic for the chanting of the poems�nbsp;as well as with bugarka^ 'elegy, dirge �J Three of the poems, however,nbsp;contained in a Zagreb MS., dating from c. 1700, bear the title bugarskanbsp;or pjesan bugarska, an expression which originally can hardly havenbsp;meant anything else than �Bulgarian poem�; and it is likely that thenbsp;other words are of similar origin. A difficult problem arises here, whichnbsp;will require notice later. For the present it will be sufficient to observenbsp;that the original significance of the words must have been forgottennbsp;even in the sixteenth century; for Hektorovic describes the rhythm ofnbsp;the poems he obtained as �Serbian�. Indeed it would seem that earlynbsp;writers use the word bugarstica in much the same sense as narodna

� Cf. Bogisic, Narodne Pjesme starijih. .. Zapisa, Introd. p. 2, who regards three of the seventy-six bugarstice published by him as of literary origin.

� The theory, which we believe to be mistaken, that the bugarhica is of (foreign) literary origin, will be noticed later, in Ch. x. It may be remarked here that thenbsp;interest and importance of the bugarstice seem not to have been sufficiently appreciated by modern writers. Most English writers seem to have neglected them. Wenbsp;may also observe that we have frequently found a good deal of difficulty with theirnbsp;language, especially the vocabulary.

3 This is only one of a number of similar words which are used by early writers in the same sense. Hektorovic uses bugarskica and bugarkinja. Our information isnbsp;derived from Bogisic, op. cit. Introd. p. 29 ff., where further details and quotationsnbsp;are given. Hektorovic�s work is not accessible to us.

�* The word bugarka 'lt;}r3.3 perhaps once used as equivalent to bugarstica. In MS. Yugoslav. Acad. (Zagreb) 638 it is applied to a bugarstica, of which the text is givennbsp;(No. 11) in Bogi�ic�s edition ; cf. Miklosich, Denkschr. der k. Akad. d. Jf^iss. (Vienna),nbsp;Phil.-Hist. Cl. 1870, p. 57. According to Miklosich (ib.') all these words are derivednbsp;from the name �Bulgarian�.

306 pjesma is now used/ i.e. to distinguish such poems from literarynbsp;poetry.

It should be observed that the evidence for the bugarhica is much earlier than that for the poem in decasyllabic metre. The former, as wenbsp;have seen, is known from 1556; the latter does not occur until towardsnbsp;the end of the seventeenth century, and is believed to have come intonbsp;existence not long before that time. Presumably therefore the publicnbsp;recitations of heroic poetry, which we hear of from time to time in thenbsp;sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, were those of bugarstice. Onnbsp;one occasion at least the reciter is said to be blind. To this subject we shallnbsp;have to refer again in the last chapter.

It is the custom to divide narodne pjesme, into two classes�-junabke pjesme (�heroic poems�) or muske. pjesme (�men�s poems�) and jenskenbsp;pjesme (� women�s poems �). But this classification is not very satisfactory.nbsp;i,enskepjesme are not recited or sung exclusively by women; and amongnbsp;lunaike {muske) pjesme there are many poems to which we should notnbsp;apply the term �heroic�. Musical accompaniment is said to be unusualnbsp;with the former class�many of them are sung at work or recreation�nbsp;but customary with the latter, which are intended primarily for thenbsp;entertainment of a party. But we do not know how far this distinctionnbsp;is to be pressed. We shall classify the material according to the schemenbsp;followed in Vol. i.

Literature of thought, as represented by the antiquarian, gnomic, descriptive and mantic categories and by Type C in other categories,nbsp;occurs but rarely in the collections. This is doubtless no accident; for thenbsp;same phenomenon is found in the modern oral literatures of othernbsp;Christian and Mohammedan peoples. On the other hand heroic poetrynbsp;is very largely represented, while non-heroic poetry seems to be by nonbsp;means rare. There is a little poetry which corresponds apparently to thenbsp;poetry and saga relating to deities found in the ancient literatures.nbsp;Poetry relating to unspecified individuals is abundant, though thenbsp;characters commonly bear names.

Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Yugoslav oral poetry is the prevalence of Type A, which tends to encroach upon the other Types,nbsp;especially Type D. The latter occurs in its proper form, though we havenbsp;not found it easy to obtain examples. Type B is by no means rare, but

' It would probably be more correct to define bugarhica as a poem in the form of a narodna pjesma, i.e. without the conventions (rhyme, etc.) observed in literarynbsp;poetry.

307 usually contains an element of narrative. We have not found any certainnbsp;examples of Type E; but we have no doubt that it is cultiv�ted.^

The distinction drawn in Vol. i between �non-heroic� poetry, relating to the Heroic Age, and �post-heroic� poetry, relating to times later thannbsp;the Heroic Age, cannot be drawn on strict chronological lines in thenbsp;case of Yugoslav oral poetry. In point of fact there is a not inconsiderable amount of poetry corresponding to the poetry found in both thesenbsp;categories, and as a rule the two can be distinguished as easily as in thenbsp;ancient literatures; but the distinction here seems to be geographicalnbsp;rather than chronological. The close of the Heroic Age may be equatednbsp;with the end of Turkish rule and the introduction of modern civilisation,nbsp;and may be dated c. 1880 in Bosnia, Hercegovina and Montenegro,^nbsp;about sixty years earlier in Serbia, and farther north again muchnbsp;earlier. But the �post-heroic� poetry which we know comes from thenbsp;Dalmatian towns and relates to events of the sixteenth and seventeenthnbsp;centuries; much of it is preserved in MSS. not later than c. 1700. Therenbsp;are no records, so far as we know, of a Heroic Age in these places ; thenbsp;heroic poems preserved there relate to other regions. If such a periodnbsp;ever existed on the Dalmatian coast, it would seem to have come to annbsp;end before the sixteenth century. The plan we shall follow therefore isnbsp;to treat all non-heroic poetry in the same chapter. It will be seen thatnbsp;some of the Serbian non-heroic poems relate to earlier times than anynbsp;of the heroic poems.

Most of the non-heroic, as well as the heroic, poems are conventionally included among the �men�s poems�. The great majority of the �women�snbsp;poems� relate to unspecified individuals (Ch. vii), though they frequently contain names. Sometimes the names are those of famousnbsp;heroes. But in many cases there is reason to suspect that a poem existednbsp;before the hero�s name became attached to it. Indeed not unfrequentlynbsp;we find variant texts of such poems, one of which contains the name of anbsp;famous hero, while another is nameless, or has some other name.

We shall devote our attention in the main to the �men�s poems�. The timeless nameless poems�relating to unspecified individuals�seem innbsp;general to be of a less distinctive (Yugoslav) character. Analogies are

� Cf. Murko, Zeitschr. d. Vereins f. Volkskunde, 1909, p. 22, note, where quotations are given from letters between a Slavonian corporal in the Austrian army and his wife, written in 1897. Many of the sentences form regular decasyllabic lines and maynbsp;be regarded as typical examples of love-poetry (of Type E).

� Montenegro was independent, at least from c. 1700; but the conditions of life were governed by the fact that it was almost surrounded by Turkish territory.

often to be found, especially for the non-narrative poems, in the folksongs of the other Slavonic peoples, and even in more distant parts of Europe. We are under the impression that poetry of this kind spreadsnbsp;and overcomes even linguistic barriers rather easily. For a satisfactorynbsp;treatment of Yugoslav folksongs one would require a knowledge ofnbsp;the popular poetry of all the surrounding peoples, including Italian andnbsp;probably also Turkish and Hungarian�knowledge to which we cannbsp;make no pretensions. The � men�s poems � too are not wholly withoutnbsp;external affinities; but these seem to be much more limited. On thisnbsp;subject we shall have a few words to say at the end of the last chapter.

IT has been mentioned that the amount of heroic poetry which has been preserved is very large. There must be at least several hundrednbsp;different poems; and many of these are preserved in several variantnbsp;forms. Type A (narrative) is by far the most common; but Type B andnbsp;Type D (cf. p. 2) also occur. The poems vary in length from under anbsp;hundred lines to over four thousand�perhaps much more.

The Heroic Age may conveniently be divided into three main periods, as follows: I. The period of full or partial independence, before thenbsp;Turkish conquest was complete. This period may be said to end c. 1500.nbsp;The stories treated in the poems seem to extend over rather more thannbsp;a century and a half before this date. II. The period of Turkish rule, fromnbsp;c. 1500 to c. 1700 in Montenegro, to c. 1800 in Serbia. III. The periodnbsp;of Montenegrin independence, after 1700, including the wars of independence in Serbia (c. 1800-1820).

All the poems which relate to Period I, so far as we know, are derived from Christian sources. The poems which relate to Period II are partlynbsp;Christian, partly Mohammedan. In the latter, historical elements arenbsp;more obvious than in the former. In Period III the Christian poemsnbsp;seem to be in a considerable majority. The Mohammedan poems,nbsp;relating to both these periods, come chiefly from Bosnia and Hercegovina.

The themes of the poems are in general very similar to those of heroic poetry in other lands�battles, raids, quarrels, marriages, etc. Cattleraiding is less frequent than one would expect, just as in the Teutonicnbsp;poems, though treasure is often mentioned. The heroes, however, arenbsp;as a rule, out for the lives of their enemies, rather than their property.nbsp;Head-hunting is the dominant principle. On the other hand marriagesnbsp;are also a popular subject�corresponding to the �Courtships� of Irishnbsp;saga, especially as exemplified in the �Courtship of Ferb� (cf. Vol. i,nbsp;p. 48). The bridegroom usually sets out with a company at least anbsp;thousand strong, including the most famous heroes he can get; and thenbsp;wedding festivities are regularly followed by a fight on a big scalenbsp;either with the bride�s relatives or with some enemy who waylays thenbsp;party on their return journey. In this class of stories characters and

motifs are often borrowed freely by one poem from another, in defiance of chronology.

A good number of stories relating to Period I are treated in bugarHice. Many of these are identical in substance with later poems, and are ofnbsp;interest as early variants of the latter. Some bugarhice, however, are concerned with stories which do not occur elsewhere, so far as we are aware.

The earliest time to which any heroic stories known to us relate is the reign of Stjepan Dusan (1331-1356). Of these the most famous is thenbsp;� Marriage of Dusan�.* Here also we may mention certain poems relatingnbsp;to Vukasin, who was a contemporary of Dusan and succeeded him innbsp;part of his dominions. The best known of these are the �Marriage ofnbsp;Vukasin�* and the �Walling of Skadar (Scutari)�.3 All the stories relating to this period are of an imaginative or legendary character. Thenbsp;� Marriage of Vukasin � is largely concerned with Momcilo�s winged horse,nbsp;which is disabled by his faithless wife. In the �Walling of Skadar�nbsp;Vukasin contrives to get his brother�s wife immured as a foundationnbsp;sacrifice to the Vila. This poem, however, cannot properly be regardednbsp;as heroic, though it is concerned with heroic characters.

Next we may take a large group of poems relating to Marko Kraljevic, the most famous of all Yugoslav heroes. Not much is known of himnbsp;from historical sources. He was a son of the Vukasin mentioned above,nbsp;who was killed at the battle of the Marica in 1371 ; and some time afternbsp;this, apparently in 1385, he submitted to the Turks. As a Turkishnbsp;vassal he seems to have kept the castle of Prilep in Macedonia, togethernbsp;perhaps with some portion of his father�s dominions. He is said to havenbsp;been killed at the battle of Ro vine, in 1394, while fighting for the Turksnbsp;against the Rumanians.'^ It is a remarkable fact that a man with such anbsp;record has come to be the great national hero of the Serbians. In thenbsp;poems themselves his connections with the Turks are frequently mentioned. We may refer (e.g.) to �The Sister of Leka Kapetan�, 461 f.,nbsp;where he is taunted with being a Turkish minion {pridvorica) and withnbsp;fighting for the Turks. There are many other passages in which he takesnbsp;the heads of individual Turks; but he seems to be always in the Sultan�snbsp;service, and more or less loyal to him.

3 Transi, by Morison in Subotic�s Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 40 ff.; Petrovich, op. cit. p. 198 ff.

It is unnecessary to describe this group of poems, since most of them are translated in Low�s Ballads of Marko Kraljcvicd It will be seen thatnbsp;Marko is not a very attractive hero, according to modern ideas.nbsp;Especially in his treatment of women, he is sometimes more of an ogrenbsp;than a hero, tearing out their eyes and chopping off their hands. Physicalnbsp;strength and heavy drinking are among his chief characteristics. Henbsp;owes much to his horse Sarac, which he feeds on wine.

Here it will be sufficient to refer to a few poems which are not included in Mr Low�s collection. In � Marko�s Revenge for the Death of his Brother Andrija�� the hero and his brother are hunting in thenbsp;mountains, and Andrija is overcome with thirst. He goes to a tavernnbsp;where thirty Turks are drinking, and the barmaid asks him in. Henbsp;begins to drink; but the Turks cut off his head. Then Marko comes tonbsp;look for him. The barmaid denies that she has seen him; and Markonbsp;enters the tavern and begins to drink heavily. The Turks attack him;nbsp;but he kills them all. Then he puts out the barmaid�s eyes, ties her to anbsp;horse�s tail, and drives it over the hills.

One of the two poems (bugarstice) preserved by Hektorovic^ (cf. p. 300) gives a story which is entirely inconsistent with this. Herenbsp;Marko and Andrija (Andrijas) seem to be brigands. They have captured three horses, and quarrel over the division of the spoil. Markonbsp;plunges his sword into his brother�s heart. This narrative is told verynbsp;briefly�in seventeen lines�andismerelyintroductorytoAndrija�sdyingnbsp;speech, which occupies the rest of the poem. He asks his brother not tonbsp;withdraw his sword until he has made certain requests. First he begsnbsp;him not to let their mother know what has happened. If she asks whynbsp;his sword is bloody, he is to say that he has met a stag which would notnbsp;make way for him; if it had turned aside he would not have killed it. Ifnbsp;she asks where his brother Andrija is, he is to reply that he has fallen innbsp;love with a maiden in a land from which he cannot return. She hasnbsp;given him magic food; and he comes no more to join his brother in hisnbsp;adventures. Then he bids Marko himself to call upon his name, whennbsp;he is attacked by brigands; he cannot come to his help, but the enemynbsp;will take to flight on hearing his name.

� The text will be found in Hrvatske Narodne Pjesme (publ. by the Matica Hrvat-ska), I. ii, 126 if. There are many variants; cf. ib. 390 ff. Cf. also Bogisic, Narodne Pjesme, No. 89.

3 It is publ. also (from Hektorovic) in the collections of Miklosich (op. cit. p. 64 f.) and Bogisic (op. cit. p. 18 ff.).

This poem shows a striking contrast to the modern poems relating to Marko. The subject is treated with dignity and restraint; and the sensenbsp;of tragedy arising from a hasty act is sustained throughout. Grotesquenbsp;and brutal features are wanting. The diction is more careful and artisticnbsp;than in later poems.

Next we may take one of the poems called � The Marriage of Marko Kraljevic�.^ Marko goes hunting or hawking on the hills, but meets withnbsp;no success and becomes exhausted. While he is resting, he sees in thenbsp;distance Vile�supernatural female beings�dancing the kolo (roundnbsp;dance), which is led by Nadanojla, chief of the Vile. He tells his falconnbsp;to go and swoop down upon Nadanojla and seize her wings and headdress, and bring them to him. He promises to reward the falcon handsomely. The falcon carries out his orders, in spite of Nadanojla�snbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;.

appeals, and Marko sets off home with the spoils. Nadanojla follows nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;'

him; and when the guards at the gate, and then his mother, remark that he has been lucky in capturing the Vila Nadanojla, he replies at hernbsp;request that it is not the Vila Nadanojla, but a shepherdess whom he hasnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;,

found on the hills, and whom he intends to marry. She brings luck to the house and bears him a son ; but on one festive occasion he boasts thatnbsp;his wife is a Vila�at which she is much displeased. She persuades hisnbsp;sister Barbara to ask Marko to let her have her wings and headdress,nbsp;so that she may dance the kolo in front of the house. Marko consents;

and the Vila dances three rounds, and then flies away, saying that she has nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;i

left him because of his disobedience. Not long afterwards, however, he sees her again; and again succeeds in catching her through his falcon.nbsp;He makes his peace with her; she brings up the child, and they livenbsp;together happily afterwards.

In another poem called �The Birth of Marko Kraljevic�� practically the same story is told of Vukasin, Marko�s father. There is no falcon;nbsp;Vukasin finds a Vila, called Mandalina, asleep and steals her crown andnbsp;robe. She appeals to him to restore them; but he refuses. Then shenbsp;follows him home; he marries her, and she bears him two sons, Markonbsp;and Andrija. Nineteen years later he celebrates the marriage of Marko,nbsp;and a kolo is danced. Mandalina asks for her crown and robe, so thatnbsp;she may take part in the dance. He consents; but after two rounds shenbsp;flies up into the clouds. He appeals to her to return for the sake of their

� Publ. by the Matica Hrvatska in Hrvatske Narodne Pjesme, I. ii. 61 ff. This is a wholly different story from the poem of the same name transi, in Mr Low�snbsp;book.

313 young son Andrija; but she promises only to come at night to feed him.nbsp;Vukasin never sees her again.

It will be seen that in one of these stories Marko is the husband, in the other the son of a Vila. The latter story cannot have been generallynbsp;accepted, for Marko�s mother is introduced or mentioned in numerousnbsp;poems, without any hint of her supernatural origin. She is often callednbsp;Jevrosima, in accordance with �The Marriage of Vukasin� (cf. p. 310).nbsp;In this story she is Momcilo�s sister; and Vukasin marries her when henbsp;has killed Momcilo and his faithless wife. Yet the story given above isnbsp;not peculiar to �The Birth of Marko Kraljevic�. It is found also�verynbsp;briefly�in a poem� preserved in the Franciscan MS. at Ragusa, whichnbsp;dates from the middle of the eighteenth century. We may note furthernbsp;that in another poem, likewise preserved in an early MS.,^ the story ofnbsp;Momcilo, with his winged horse and his faithless wife, occurs in a formnbsp;very similar to �The Marriage of Vukasin�, but without reference tonbsp;Vukasin himself, whose place is here taken by a han (�governor�) fromnbsp;Germany. All this illustrates the freedom with which stories of Markonbsp;have been treated, at least during the last two centuries.

Another important group of poems centre round the first battle of Kosovo, in which the Serbian prince Lazar was defeated and slain bynbsp;the Turks, in 1389. Lazar was a contemporary of Marko Kraljevic; butnbsp;the latter does not figure in these poems. The two cycles are quitenbsp;distinct, except for the fact that a few of Lazar�s heroes, especiallynbsp;Milos, are sometimes introduced, as minor characters, in stories relatingnbsp;to Marko. In the Kosovo poems this Milos�called Kobilovic in thenbsp;bugarStice, but Obilic in the later poems�is the leading hero. He killsnbsp;the sultan Murad ; and this seems to be a historical fact, though practicallynbsp;nothing more is known of him from early sources. But in these poemsnbsp;the interest is much more widely distributed than in those of the Markonbsp;Cycle. On the whole it is centred chiefly in Milica, the wife of Lazar;nbsp;but there are poems in which she is not mentioned. A curious featurenbsp;of the story is the treachery attributed to Vuk Branko vic, Lazar�s son-in-law. This has never been quite satisfactorily explained, so far as we know.nbsp;From historical sources it appears that he continued to carry on thenbsp;struggle against the Turks for some years after Lazar�s son Stjepan hadnbsp;made peace.

� Publ. by Bogisic, op. cit. p. 265 ff. We think it is taken from the same (Franciscan) MS. J but if so there is a misprint in Bogisic�s introduction, p. 131, lines 15 ff.

the Other with several, there are remarkable differences in the character of the two sets of poems. They relate to the same period; yet the Kosovonbsp;poems give the impression of a much more advanced and culturednbsp;milieu. They represent human beings�of the heroic type, but stillnbsp;quite human; the crude and ogre-like element is wanting, and the fantastic rare, even in the modern poems. There is a general underlyingnbsp;resemblance to the � Battle of Maldon�, which may be due to the historicalnbsp;circumstances^; but the feminine element, which is very prominent here,nbsp;though wanting in the latter, has its analogies in Norse heroic poetry.nbsp;It is to be observed that several of the poems properly belong to Type B,nbsp;while the narrative poems tend to approximate to this Type.

Naturally the Kosovo poems appeal to the modern mind much more strongly than those of the Marko Cycle. They are better known in thisnbsp;country than any other group of narodne. pjesme, and have frequentlynbsp;been translated into English.^ We shall therefore confine our attentionnbsp;practically to the hugarstice, which are less well known than the modernnbsp;poems. In regard to the latter, however, one or two points may benbsp;noted here. � The Fall of the Serbian Kingdom � 3 is a poem of Type C ; itnbsp;is an example of the utilisation of a heroic theme for the treatment of anbsp;religious motif. Lazar receives a message from Jerusalem bidding himnbsp;choose between �the heavenly kingdom� and the �earthly kingdom�;nbsp;and he chooses the former. This poem stands quite apart from the restnbsp;of the group, though the introduction of�more or less mystical�nbsp;religious motifs occurs occasionally elsewhere in narodne pjesmed' Itnbsp;should be observed that there is no reference to national feeling, as innbsp;some of the other (modern) Kosovo poems. The latter part of thenbsp;poem (47 ff.) is a catalogue�largely unhistorical�of the forces engagednbsp;in the battle, and can hardly have belonged to it originally.

�The Girl of Kosovo�5 is a poem of Type B, of which the central character is a girl, not named, who is betrothed to Toplica Milan, one ofnbsp;Milos� companions, and comes to the battlefield to look for him. She isnbsp;presumably a fictitious character; and the poem is of interest as a verynbsp;effective example of the use of a special type of fiction. A �girl of

� For an account of the early historical works and documents relating to the battle the reader may be referred to Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 74 ff.

� Cf. Mijatovich, Kossovo', Rootham, Kossovo-, Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 57 ff. (selections). Only the first of these contains the bugarstice.

E.g. Karadzic, ii. No. 34 (Low, p. 13 ff.). Karadzic, ii. No. 95 (cf. Petrovich, p. 177 ff.) has a religious tone; but it is not mystical.

5 Karadzic, ii. 315 ff. (No. 51). Transi, by Morison in Subotic, op. cit. p. 70 ff.

315 Kosovo�, perhaps taken from this poem, is introduced also in �Musicnbsp;Stefan� (106 if.) and gives that hero news of the battle.

Another poem,� said to be a fragment, describes the banquet given by Lazar to his nobles before the battle�at which he charges Milos withnbsp;disloyalty. This piece is of special interest owing to its antiquity. Annbsp;anonymous Italian translation of Ducas� History, dating from about thenbsp;end of the fifteenth century, contains a rather long passage�not foundnbsp;in the Greek original�which seems to be derived from it. Severalnbsp;sentences show verbal coincidences with the poem, which cannot benbsp;due to accident.�

The longest of the bugarstice 3 relating to Kosovo embraces the themes of several of the later poems. First it describes the departure of Busicnbsp;Stjepan, which forms the subject of Karadzic�s �Music Stefan� (11. No. 47).nbsp;Then it passes on to Milica�s request that Lazar should leave one of hernbsp;brothers behind with her�as in �King Lazar and Queen Milica� (J.b.nbsp;No. 45). Next it tells the story of the accusation of Milos by Lazar atnbsp;supper. Lastly, it relates Milos� attack upon the Turkish king, and thenbsp;deaths of Milos and Lazar. Part of this poem will require discussion in anbsp;later chapter. We may, however, note that Milos and Vuk Branko vic arenbsp;here clearly represented as personal enemies. It is Vuk who firstnbsp;accuses Milos of disloyalty, in the supper scene; and later, in the battle,nbsp;when Milos calls out to Lazar for help, Vuk replies and charges him withnbsp;fighting on the Turkish side.

In another poem'^, which seems to have no modern counterpart, Milica is sitting at a window talking to her two daughters, one of whomnbsp;is married to Vuk Brankovic, and the other to Milos. The daughtersnbsp;begin to compare their husbands; and an angry scene takes place, innbsp;which Vuk�s wife strikes her sister and tears her face with a ring she hasnbsp;on her finger. Milos� wife runs out into the garden to hide herself.nbsp;While she is crying and mopping up the blood, Lazar comes home withnbsp;his sons-in-law. Milos goes to look for his wife, and she tells him whatnbsp;has happened. He flies into a rage and attacks Vuk, throwing him down

� Cf. the note on p. 341, below, and Chadwick, The Heroic Age, p. 314 f., where these passages are quoted.

Publ. by Miklosich, op. cit. p. 71 ; transi, by Mijatovich, Kossovo, p. 49 if. A variant of this poem was evidently known to Orbini, Il Regno degli Slavi (Pesaro,nbsp;1601), p. 314, where the two daughters are called Mara and Vukosava, as also innbsp;Karadzic, ii. 49. In the bugarstica now referred to they are not named; but innbsp;Bogisic, No. I, Milo� wife is called Danica.

and kicking out two of his teeth. The action here clearly takes place some time before the battle, to which there is no reference. But thenbsp;poem, or at least the version of the story which it represents, is connected with the one last noticed; for in the latter (209), when Vuk callsnbsp;out to Milos during the battle, he says that he (Milos) will now have tonbsp;pay for his teeth. One poem supplies a motif for the other. In the poemnbsp;relating to the wives there is no suggestion of treachery. The hostilitynbsp;of the heroes arises from the quarrel between their wives. An interestingnbsp;analogy is to be found in the story of GuSrun and Brynhildr.

Another bugarstica'^ describes Milica visiting the battlefield. She lights upon a mortally wounded hero, who makes himself known to hernbsp;as her son-in-law, Milos. He asks her to give to his wife his gold and anbsp;cap which she has embroidered for him, and also to set free upon thenbsp;hills a horse covered with silk trappings. This poem represents a form ofnbsp;the story different from what is found in the long poem ; for in the latternbsp;{ad fin.) Milos is beheaded by the Turks and buried at the Turkishnbsp;king�s feet. In the piece we are now discussing, which is a poem ofnbsp;Type B, the hero is called Milos Dragilovic.

In addition to the group of poems noticed above there are a few others connected with the battle of Kosovo or with the heroes whonbsp;took part in it. We may refer in particular to the story of Strahinjanbsp;Banovic, which is treated in a bugarstica, as well as in later poetry. Othernbsp;poems are of a non-heroic character; and with these we shall have tonbsp;deal in the next chapter.

The next large group consists of poems relating to the times of Despot^ Giorgje or Djuro (Brankovic), who reigned from 1427 to 1456.nbsp;This group includes a considerable number of bugarstice. The modernnbsp;poems published in Karadzic�s collection are not numerous; but wenbsp;believe that others are current and have been published in more recentnbsp;collections, which are not accessible to us. Very few poems of this groupnbsp;seem to have been translated into English.

As a whole this group of poems has less unity than either of the two which have been discussed above. It is not centred either in one individual or in r one event. Some poems are concerned with Despotnbsp;Djuro and his wife Jerina, others with various Serbian heroes of thenbsp;time, others again with Hungarian heroes. The last named are the mostnbsp;numerous, especially in the case of the bugarhice. Indeed Sibinjaninnbsp;Janko, i.e. the Hungarian leader John Hunyadi, is the most prominentnbsp;� Publ. by Miklosich, op. cit. p. 78 ff.; by Bogisic, op. cit. p. 10 ff.

317 hero of the whole group. He and his comrades are recognised as beingnbsp;Hungarians, especially in the bugarstice, in which he is frequentlynbsp;called Ugrin Janko, �Janko the Hungarian�. But he is not regarded as annbsp;alien. He is commonly represented as at enmity with Despot Djuro, thenbsp;Serbian prince, but the sympathy is entirely on his side. Djuro generallynbsp;appears as an old man and no warrior, and is treated with little respect,nbsp;while his wife frequently acts on her own authority and is represented asnbsp;a most detestable character. From historical records it would seem thatnbsp;the Despot�s position, between the Hungarians and the Turks, wasnbsp;uncertain; but he kept possession of his territories until his death. Thenbsp;Turkish conquest of Serbia�apart from Belgrade, which now belongednbsp;to Hungary�took place in 1459.

There is indeed one bugarstica � which makes Janko to be of Serbian origin. In this poem Stjepan Lazarevic, who ruled over Serbia fromnbsp;1389 to 1427, is said to marry a girl (not named) of Sibinj (Hermann-stadt, in Transylvania) at the request of the nobles of that place. Onnbsp;the day after the wedding he sets off to Kosovo and is slain there; but innbsp;due course his wife bears twins, who are Janko and his sister Rusa.nbsp;From historical sources nothing certain seems to be known of Janko�snbsp;origin; but he was presumably a Magyar. Despot Stjepan was a well-known scholar; but he is very seldom mentioned in narodnepjesme. Henbsp;was not killed in battle, nor indeed was any battle fought at Kosovo duringnbsp;his reign. It would seem that the poem has confused him with his father,nbsp;Lazar. We have not met with any reference to this story elsewhere; andnbsp;consequently we doubt whether it can have been generally accepted.

Fiction without doubt plays a great part in poems relating to this period. �The Marriage of Djuro of Smeredevo�^ seems to be a purelynbsp;fictitious work. Jerina is here said to be a daughter of Mijailo, king ofnbsp;Ragusa.3 Djuro decides not to go for the bride himself, but sends innbsp;his place Marko Kraljevic�who was dead long before this time. Withnbsp;him he sends Janko, together with Milos and other heroes of the past.nbsp;An attack is made upon the wedding party in Ragusa; but Marko andnbsp;his companions satisfactorily dispose of the assailants and return withnbsp;the bride.

' No. 8 in Bogisic�s collection (p. 25 ff.), from the Zagreb MS. � Karadzic, op. cit. 11. 469 ff. (No. 79); transi, by Low, op. cit. p. 159 ff.

3 According to Orbini (Regno d. Slavi, p. 276) she was a daughter of Matthias, son of the Greek emperor loannes Cantacuzenos. Her mother was a daughter ofnbsp;Vukasin. Jerina represents Irene.

may suspect the presence of a good deal of fiction in other respects. � The Marriage of the King of Budim � (i.e. the king of Hungary) forms thenbsp;subject of two bugarhice, which seem to be variants of one original poem.nbsp;Curiously enough neither poem gives the names of either bridegroomnbsp;or bride, though the latter is said to be the daughter of the ban ofnbsp;Krusevo (Krusevac). The king�s chief sponsors are Janko and Despotnbsp;Djuro. At the feast which takes place�in one poem (A) before thenbsp;bridegroom sets out, in the other (B) at the wedding itself�Jankonbsp;refuses to join in the general merriment. In answer to the king�snbsp;question he says that he cannot bear being in the presence of his enemy,nbsp;the �faithless� (A) Despot Djuro. In A he wants to use his sword. Thenbsp;king begs him not to spoil the festivities, and suggests a plan for showingnbsp;his feelings towards Djuro later on�which Janko duly carries out.nbsp;When they arrive at Krusevac they are not admitted until certain featsnbsp;of shooting and horsemanship have been performed ; but Janko has nonbsp;difficulty with these. Then twelve girls come out, among whom thenbsp;bride has to be identified. Janko produces a number of gold rings andnbsp;draws his sword, saying that if anyone picks them up except the bride,nbsp;he will take off her head.� When the feast is over, they set out on theirnbsp;return journey; and at Smeredevo (Semendria) Jerina comes out uponnbsp;the walls with her ladies to watch them. Then Janko, following up thenbsp;king�s suggestion, grabs Djuro by his gray beard and beats him with anbsp;cudgel. The humiliation of an unpopular character in his wife�s presencenbsp;is a motif which occurs elsewhere in bugarhice.

A number of poems relate to the second battle of Kosovo, which was fought between John Hunyadi and the Turks in 1448. We may refer herenbsp;to a strange and apparently widespread story which is known to usnbsp;from two variants in Karadzic�s collection,3 as well as from a bugarstica'^ ;nbsp;but there may be other versions of it not accessible to us. In the laternbsp;versions the story is, in brief, as follows. Janko collects all the warriorsnbsp;he can muster, including his youthful nephew Sekula (John Sz�k�ly),nbsp;and sets out for Kosovo. Sekula�s sisters beseech him to leave theirnbsp;brother behind; but he refuses. On their arrival at Kosovo Janko goesnbsp;to sleep, and Sekula makes his way to the tent of the Turkish king.

� Similar tests occur elsewhere, e.g. in �The Marriage of Dusan� (Karadzic, 11. No. 29).

3 Op. cit. Nos. 85 f., pp. $06 if. (A) and 509 ff. (B). B is fragmentary. Karadzic (p. 513) refers to another story, in which the Despot�s enmity to Janko is inspired by fear that he means to enforce Catholicism.

319 Before starting he tells his uncle that he is going to turn into a six-wingednbsp;snake, and that he will bring the Turkish king in his teeth in the form ofnbsp;a falcon. He does as he has said; and the two creatures fly to Janko�snbsp;tent. Janko awakes and�in A�debates with himself what he shall do.nbsp;Then he takes his bow and shoots the snake, which falls to the ground;nbsp;but the falcon flies away to the Turkish camp. In B he consults Despotnbsp;Djuro, and at his advice shoots the snake. Three times he hits it; andnbsp;then it vanishes, and the falcon flies away. Then Sekula is brought tonbsp;him mortally wounded; and he tells his uncle that he has hit him threenbsp;times, first breaking his arm and then his leg and, lastly, shooting him innbsp;the heart. A is less detailed, and it is not clear how Sekula makes hisnbsp;appearance; but in both versions he blames Janko for not following hisnbsp;instructions, and then dies.

The bugarstica begins with Sekula�s departure to the Turkish camp. He gives no instructions to Janko, but the latter tries to dissuade himnbsp;from going. When he arrives at the king�s tent, he produces from hisnbsp;own bosom both a winged snake and a falcon; and they fly off tonbsp;Janko�s tent. Janko is drinking with the Hungarians, and asks themnbsp;which he shall shoot with his bow. They reply that he must shoot thenbsp;falcon; but ill luck makes him shoot the snake. Then Sekula rides up,nbsp;disfigured in appearance. Janko asks him whether he has been drinking,nbsp;and other questions ; but he answers that he has been shot in the heartnbsp;by his uncle�s arrows, and that his wounds are incurable. Then he dies.�nbsp;Curiously enough not one of these three poems refer to Janko�snbsp;defeat in the battle. Yet it seems likely that this story was originallynbsp;connected with some attempt to account for it. Note should be takennbsp;of the fact that in one version the responsibility for the unfortunate deednbsp;is thrown upon the unpopular character Despot Djuro.

There are several other poems connected with the second battle of Kosovo, which do not mention this incident. We may refer here to anbsp;bugarstica^ which describes how Janko, Svilojevic and Sekula come tonbsp;ask the king of Budim (Buda) to give his sister to Sekula. The marriagenbsp;is celebrated; but very soon afterwards Janko is summoned to meet thenbsp;Turks at Kosovo, and Sekula with him. Sekula makes an attack uponnbsp;the Turkish king�s tent against Janko�s orders; but he is mortallynbsp;wounded and dies soon after his return to the camp. A more imaginative

* This form of the story, which is more than two centuries old, suggests derivation from an account of a kite-flying competition. For such competitions and for the idea that a kite could embody its owner�s soul see Chadwick, Journ. R. Anthr.nbsp;Inst. LXI. 455 ff.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Bogisic, No. 20 (p. 59 if.).

account of the same events is given in another bugarstica} King Vladislav�s sister looks out from her window upon the plain of Kosovo� several hundred miles away�and sees three Vile mounted on stags.nbsp;She calls her brother, who chides her for her folly and says they are notnbsp;Vile; they are the three banove (governors), Janko, Mihaile (Svilojevic),nbsp;and also Sekula�to whom she is now betrothed. They give her presents,nbsp;and then set off with the king to Kosovo, where they all perish. Thenbsp;poem ends with a monologue by the king�s sister, who asks herselfnbsp;for whom shall she make lamentation. Janko, Mihaile and Sekula allnbsp;have mothers or sisters or wives to lament for them; but Vladislav hasnbsp;neither mother nor wife. She will therefore lament for her brother.nbsp;The statements of this poem, however, are unhistorical. Only Sekulanbsp;was killed at Kosovo. Janko was wounded and Svilojevic captured bynbsp;the Turks according to other poems.^ King Vladislav IV was killed atnbsp;the battle of Varna, four years before this.

In another bugarstica'i Janko has been wounded at Kosovo and is making his way home. He tries to pass through Smeredevo, Djuro�snbsp;capital; but the Despot has him arrested and put in prison. He writes tonbsp;his wife Margarita, and asks her to come to him with their two youngnbsp;sons. She brings them, against the advice of Svilojevic, her brother,nbsp;and persuades the �faithless Despot� to exchange them for her husband.nbsp;As soon as Janko has left the city he calls out to the guard that, unlessnbsp;he gets his children back by the evening, he will return with his Hungarians and destroy the place. Djuro then releases the boys. In thenbsp;meantime his own young son Lazar has gone to play with them in thenbsp;prison, and, in the course of a quarrel, has been killed by Janko�s sonnbsp;Matthias. When Djuro hears of this he gives orders for the fugitives tonbsp;be pursued; but they make good their escape.

There are a number of other bugarstice relating to Janko and other Hungarian heroes and also to the king. The king seems usually to benbsp;Vladislav IV (1440-1444); but he is not distinguished from Vladislav Vnbsp;(1444-1457). We may, however, refer here to two bugarstice'^ whichnbsp;describe the royal election of 1457, after the death of the latter. The Hungarian lords assemble under the presidency of Janko. Three times henbsp;throws the golden crown into the air ; and each time it comes down uponnbsp;the head of his son Matthias, who is then recognised as king. But innbsp;reality John Hunyadi was dead before his son�s election.

In Karadzic�s collection note may be taken of a short poem called * Bogisic, No. 21 (p. 62 ff.).nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Cf. Bogisic, Nos. 25, 46 (pp. 71 f., 120 ff.).

�Jerina, Wife of Djuro � which has an interest as illustrating certain motifs. Jerina asks her grandson Maxim Grgurevic for advice as to thenbsp;marriage of her daughter. There are three suitors�Vilip the Magyar,nbsp;the king of Moscow, and the Turkish king. Maxim advises her to choosenbsp;first the Magyar, and next the Muscovite. He adds that if she choosesnbsp;the Turk, he will claim possession of the country and the castles. Shenbsp;is furious at the answer and strikes him in the face, knocking out fournbsp;teeth; and he falls to the ground. But he repeats that with her daughternbsp;she is giving the country and the castles to the Turks; and the poemnbsp;adds that thus it came to pass. Jerina is therefore made responsible fornbsp;the betrayal of the country.�

Among the Serbian heroes of this period Radosav seems at one time to have been the most famous ; but he does not figure in many of thenbsp;later poems which are accessible to us, and we do not know his story.nbsp;One of the two bugarstice recorded by Hektorovic^ gives an account ofnbsp;his fate. He is described as a vojvoda (�general�), and at the beginningnbsp;of the poem he is bidding farewell to his castle, Sjeverin. Then he fallsnbsp;into the hands of the vojvoda Vlatko, by whom he is treacherously putnbsp;to death. Possibly this is to be identified with the Vlatko Mladenovicnbsp;who in another bugarstica?* is said to be intercepting wounded Hungariansnbsp;and despoiling them of their arms, and who is entrapped and slain bynbsp;Janko.

Radosav himself is the central figure of one poem in Karadzic�s collection.5 Two ladies appeal to him on behalf of their husbands whonbsp;have been imprisoned by Jerina. He goes to Despot Djuro and obtainsnbsp;his consent to their release; but he is only just in time, as they are aboutnbsp;to be hanged. Jerina comes forward with the ladies of the court andnbsp;threatens to hang Radosav together with Vuk the �Dragon-Despot�,nbsp;who is not otherwise mentioned in this poem; but Radosav strikes hernbsp;to the ground with his whip, and sets free the imprisoned nobles. Henbsp;appears also as a great fighting-man in another poem in the samenbsp;collection.^

The last considerable group of poems to be noticed here is concerned chiefly with Vuk the �Fiery Dragon� or �Dragon-Despot� and the

� According to M. Orbini, Il Regno degli Slavi., p. 325, Jerina did persuade Djuro to marry their daughter to Murad IL But he does not indicate that she was influenced by any motive other than political prudence.

Jaksica. Vuk is said to have ruled in Srijera�^between the Danube and the Sava�from 1471 to 1485 ; his home was at Kupinovo on the Sava.nbsp;He was a grandson of Despot Djuro and Jerina. One of his brothers,nbsp;named Maxim, who apparently became a bishop, has already been mentioned. Vuk�s chief friend in the poems is Dmitar Jaksic, who, with hisnbsp;brother Stjepan, holds the castle of Belgrade. This was within the Hungarian dominions; but the rest of Serbia had now become a Turkishnbsp;province. The two brothers are frequently spoken of together asnbsp;Jaksica (dual).

The poems relating to Vuk provide interesting material for studying the growth of unhistorical features. He is generally represented as anbsp;great warrior; but some of the later poems attribute to him supernaturalnbsp;properties, suggested perhaps by a desire to account for his surname.nbsp;According to one (Bosnian) poem^ he is found as a new-born babe withnbsp;his head covered with wolf�s hair,^ with living fire blazing from hisnbsp;mouth and blue flame darting from his nose, and with arms red up to thenbsp;shoulders. But the wildest story forms the subject of a poem in Karadzic�s collection.^ Here Vuk is made a contemporary of Lazar, who fellnbsp;at Kosovo nearly a century before his time. Milica is troubled by thenbsp;attentions of a fiery dragon which comes from the mountain Jastrebacnbsp;and visits her at night in her tower. Lazar advises her to ask the dragonnbsp;if there is anyone he is afraid of. He replied that Vuk in Srijem is thenbsp;only person he fears. Then Lazar sends for Vuk, who lies in wait for thenbsp;dragon. When he arrives and finds Vuk, he flies up into the sky. Vuknbsp;follows him and breaks his wings with a club. Then he falls to the ground,nbsp;and Vuk cuts off his head.

There are other stories, however, of a less extravagant character. In a poem in Karadzic�s collection (n. No. 93), called �Porca of Avala andnbsp;Vuk the Fiery Dragon�, Porca is drinking in his castle at Avala, abovenbsp;Belgrade, with Djerzelez-Alija, who comes from Sarajevo. His guestnbsp;taunts him with not having a waitress to serve and amuse them. Porcanbsp;says he will go to Belgrade and get one; and then Djerzelez-Alija asksnbsp;him if he is not afraid of the Jaksica. Porca replies that he has no fear ofnbsp;them. He has some fear of Vuk; but Kupinovo is a long way off, and henbsp;is not likely to meet him. So he sets off. But at this time Vuk happens tonbsp;be drinking with the Jaksica; and he catches sight of the horseman, andnbsp;asks them who he is. They tell him, and say that Porca is constantly

323 killing their men and carrying off captives. Then they set a trap for him.nbsp;They dress a girl up in fine silk clothes, and post her on the bank of thenbsp;Sava. When Porca arrives she offers him a drink, and he seizes her; butnbsp;Vuk pounces upon him, and he takes to flight. Djerzelez-Alija sees twonbsp;horsemen approaching the castle at full speed, and orders the gates to benbsp;closed. Three times Vuk pursues Porca round the castle; and at lastnbsp;catches him and cuts off his head. Djerzelez-Alija thanks God that thenbsp;gates were closed, and returns to Sarajevo.

Next we may take �The Marriage of Vuk the Dragon-Despot�. In the poem contained in Karadzic�s collection (n. No. 92) the bride, whonbsp;is called Rosanda, is daughter of the ban of Venice. In response to anbsp;letter from her he brings twelve hundred followers; for she expects annbsp;attack from Djerzelez-Alija. When the wedding is over he lingers behind in Venice to bid farewell to the ban and his wife. Then a messengernbsp;comes to say that his men have been slaughtered by Djerzelez-Alija,nbsp;though the Jaksica are still defending the bride. Vuk hurries to thenbsp;scene, and after a stiff fight succeeds in shooting his enemy with annbsp;arrow.

A very different account of Vuk�s marriage is given in certain bugarstice�Nos. 12 and 13 in Bogisic�s collection.� Here the bride isnbsp;called Barbara, as in other bugarstice. In No. 12 she is sister of the ban ofnbsp;Bosnia, in No. 13 of the ban of Poljice.� In the former she has befriendednbsp;King Matthias, when he was in prison; and he has promised to marry her.nbsp;But when the ban writes to remind him of this, he says he cannot marrynbsp;her, because she is his kuma.^ He invites her, however, to a feast, atnbsp;which she may choose a husband from the assembled nobles. Shenbsp;accepts the offer, and chooses Vuk.

In No. 13 the marriage is treated very briefly. The ban offers Vuk a military escort to take them home; but Vuk replies that he has a goodnbsp;friend Alibego at the Dunaj. But when they arrive at the river, Alibego,nbsp;who is a Turk, wants first to see the bride, and then to have her on hisnbsp;horse with him. Vuk consents, and then Alibego dashes into the river.nbsp;Vuk is unable to catch him up; but one of his companions, Gredeljica

� We are not clear about the geography of this poem. The only place called Poljice known to us is not far from Ragusa. We do not know what river is meant bynbsp;Dunaj {Podunaj'} here.

3 A kum (masc.) or kuma (fem.) is a person with whom one has entered into a fictitious blood-relationship, which precludes marriage. The word occurs verynbsp;frequently in descriptions of weddings, where the kum is the chief sponsor; cf. Low,nbsp;op. cit. p. 184.

Radosav, succeeds in overtaking him, and strikes his horse with a cudgel. Then Alibego drops the lady, and makes off across the river.nbsp;Vuk calls out to the Turk that within six months he will raid his housenbsp;and carry off his wife; and when he has got his bride safely home henbsp;fulfils his promise.

There are several other bugarstice relating to Vuk�s adventures. We may refer here to No. 16 in Bogisic�s collection (from the Franciscannbsp;MS.). Vuk comes back from the border badly wounded and shuts himself up in his room, without saying a word to his wife or his mother.nbsp;His wife, Barbara, suspects that he has captured a girl and got her withnbsp;him. She goes and looks through the door and sees a white mountainnbsp;Vila washing and attending to his wounds. She tells Vuk�s mother whatnbsp;she has seen, and the apparition {inamenje) at once flies away. Vuk thennbsp;calls her into the room, and asks her why she has poisoned him. Shenbsp;denies having done anything of the kind; but he says she has poisonednbsp;him, not by seeing the Vila, but by speaking to his mother of havingnbsp;seen her. Then he asks her to summon Mitar Jaksic, who is to bring anbsp;monk with him. He makes known to Mitar what he wishes to be donenbsp;with his property, and the monk shrives him.^

A number of poems�both bugarstice and later poems�are primarily concerned with the Jaksica. At least one of the latter, � The Captivitynbsp;and Marriage of Stjepan Jaksic�, has been translated into English.^nbsp;It relates how one morning, before dawn, a Vila from Mount Avalanbsp;calls out to Mitar Jaksic that the Turks are at hand. He has just time tonbsp;make his escape; but the castle and his brother Stjepan are captured bynbsp;the enemy. Eventually Stjepan is imprisoned at Novi Pazar. Here thenbsp;Pasha�s daughter falls in love with him and enables him to escape. Shenbsp;accompanies him to Belgrade, and they marry. In this poem the religiousnbsp;element is unusually prominent. Stjepan is repeatedly pressed to becomenbsp;a �Turk�, but stedfastly refuses to give up the Christian religion. In thenbsp;end the Pasha�s daughter is baptised.

In some poems the two brothers are represented as quarrelling over their wives. Yet in one bugarstica (Bogisic, No. 43) they perish unmarried. They are discussing the possibility of marriage while they ride

� Vuk�s last conversations with his wife and with Mitar Jak�ic and his dying injunctions to the latter form the subject of a bugarstica publ. by Novakovic, Arch. f. slav. Philol. HI. 641 ff. from a Ragusa MS. of the early eighteenth century, not usednbsp;by Bogisic. This poem seems to be of a more historical character and says muchnbsp;about Vuk�s relations with King Matthias, whose vassal he was. There is no referencenbsp;to the Vila.

325 together, and they are overheard by Vile of the mountains. The Vilenbsp;decide among themselves that whichever of them can bring about anbsp;quarrel between the brothers shall be their queen. One Vila undertakesnbsp;the task and presents herself before the Jaksica. Mitar is so overcome bynbsp;her beauty that he tells her they are unmarried and asks her which ofnbsp;them she will have. She replies by choosing Stjepan, and Mitar thereupon turns upon his brother in fury and slays him. Then he is immediatelynbsp;overwhelmed with remorse and takes his own life, telling the Vila thatnbsp;she is responsible for the fate of them both.

II. Heroic stories relating to the second period of the Heroic Age (c. 1500-1700) differ in general from those of the earlier period in the factnbsp;that they are not concerned with the doings of princes and their noblenbsp;followers; neither are they centred in events of national importance.nbsp;There are, it is true, a number of poems which relate to importantnbsp;events in Turkish and Venetian history�sometimes indeed to eventsnbsp;which took place in distant lands, e.g. the battle of Lepanto in 1571, thenbsp;fall of Candia in 1669, and the relief of Vienna in 1682�but these poemsnbsp;cannot properly be regarded as heroic. No Yugoslav princes now survived, so far as we know. The greater part of Yugoslavia was undernbsp;Turkish government, while the rest, apart from Ragusa, was subject tonbsp;Venice or Austria. On the border between the two areas, in Dalmatianbsp;and Croatia, there was much frontier warfare, which is often celebrated innbsp;poetry. But a good deal of this poetry also, especially what comes fromnbsp;southern Dalmatia, cannot properly be treated as heroic; with this wenbsp;shall have to deal in the next chapter. The heroic poems are concernednbsp;chiefly with the doings of local chiefs in Croatia, Bosnia and Hercegovina, and with the adventures of brigands {hajduci} and outlawsnbsp;(zzj^ocz) in Turkish territory. The fighting which is described is thereforenbsp;usually on a small scale.

The battle of Muhac (Mohacs) in 1526, which brought about the Turkish conquest of Hungary, seems not to be clearly remembered innbsp;the poems, though it is evident enough that the disaster made a lastingnbsp;impression. In one bugarhica (No. 28 in Bogisic�s collection) Janko isnbsp;made to interpret a girl�s dream as foreboding the fall of Buda and thenbsp;death of King Vladislav; and it is added that the disaster took place asnbsp;soon as he had spoken. But here there is obvious confusion with thenbsp;death of Vladislav IV at Varna in 1444. Janko himself died aboutnbsp;seventy years before the fall of Buda. A somewhat clearer reminiscencenbsp;is preserved in another (decasyllabic) poem (ib. No. 115), in which a

sister of King Rakocija describes to her brother a dream she has had. This dream has much in common with the last�clouds and lightningnbsp;over Buda, etc.�but she also describes various birds which she has seennbsp;descending upon the plain of Muhac. The king interprets the dream asnbsp;presaging his own and his kingdom�s ruin, and identifies the variousnbsp;birds with the emperor Suleiman, the grand vizier Cuprilic, the Janissaries, and other elements of the Turkish army. As soon as he hasnbsp;spoken, a letter comes from the emperor demanding his surrender. Henbsp;refuses, and goes to meet the Turks at Muhac, where he loses his life andnbsp;his kingdom. In this case the confusion is with the defeat of Georgenbsp;Rakoczy II, prince of Transylvania, in 16 5 7. The king slain at Muhac wasnbsp;Louis II. Suleiman was the conqueror at this battle; but Cuprilic wasnbsp;the opponent of Rakoczy. The defeat of the latter is the subject ofnbsp;certain Mohammedan poems, which we shall have to notice in the nextnbsp;chapter.

Another bugarHica (No. 36 in Bogisic�s collection) deals with the defence of Siget (Szigetvar) by Miklaus Zrinjski (Nicholas Zrinji)nbsp;against the emperor Suleiman in 1566. In view of the confusion relatingnbsp;to the battle of Muhac it is somewhat remarkable that this, less important,nbsp;event is much more accurately remembered. A number of details regarding the siege and the final sortie are recorded, and these seem to benbsp;more or less in accord with what is known from historical sources.^ Onenbsp;is inclined to suspect that the poem�^which is preserved in a Zagrebnbsp;MS.�may have been copied from an earlier text, written perhaps withinnbsp;memory of the disaster.^ After this time references to events in Hungarian history seem to become less frequent, except in Mohammedannbsp;poems.

A much larger number of poems are concerned with the doings of heroes who appear to have been of merely local importance. Thenbsp;materials for identifying these persons are not accessible to us; but manynbsp;of them evidently lived in the western borderland during the periodnbsp;under discussion. As an example we may take Ivo (Ivan) of Senj, on the

� An account of this siege will be found in Vamb�ry, Hungary (Story of the Nations), p. 311 fF.

In a decasyllabic poem (Bogisic, No. 112) preserved in the Franciscan MS. a certain ban Zrinjenski becomes involved in a deadly feud with a beg named Malkoc.nbsp;The ban is supported by the emperor, and the beg is slain by Janissaries. The superscription in the MS. calls this ban �Nikola Zrinski�, presumably identifying him withnbsp;the hero of the poem noticed above; but there is nothing in the poem itself tonbsp;suggest this. The superscriptions in the MSS. often seem to be wild guesses; and wenbsp;have usually ignored them.

327 Adriatic (Quarnerolo), who figures in a number of poems. The warfarenbsp;described in these is of a ruthless character. It seems to be essentiallynbsp;private�without reference to the action of any higher authorities.

In one poem^ (No. 108 in Bogisic�s collection) Ivo is drinking with the warriors of Senj, when the mother of one of his friends namednbsp;Mihajlo Desancic begs him to rescue her son, who is imprisoned bynbsp;Asan-aga. He advises her to invite him and his companions to a feast;nbsp;and there they pledge themselves to the undertaking. Ivo posts hisnbsp;men in hiding, and makes his way to Asan-aga, concealing his identity.nbsp;He begs from Asan-aga, saying that he has been imprisoned by Ivo ofnbsp;Senj. Asan-aga gives a him trifle and allows him to go to his house tonbsp;beg more. Then he goes to the tower where Desancic is imprisoned,nbsp;and ascertains from him how access is to be attained. On the followingnbsp;night, having put Asan-aga off his guard by false information, henbsp;surrounds the tower and rescues his friend.

A somewhat similar adventure forms the subject of another poem (j.b. No. 109). A certain Ivan Latovic, while hunting, is captured by the sonsnbsp;of a pasha and brought to their father, who declares that he will hangnbsp;him. Ivan contrives to send a letter to Ivo of Senj ; and the latter sets outnbsp;with his followers. They succeed in rescuing the captive, make anbsp;slaughter of the Turks, and hang the pasha�s sons.

In another poem {ib. No. i to) two men (presumably Turks) who have been captured by Ivo appeal for help to Asan-aga. The latter writes tonbsp;Ivo to arrange a ransom. Ivo replies that he will not take gold or silver,nbsp;but demands the castle of Jajce. Thereupon Asan-aga challenges him tonbsp;single combat. Ivo sets out with his men, encounters Asan-aga onnbsp;horseback, and throws him to the ground. Then his men make annbsp;attack, slay the Turks and carry off the Turkish women as booty. Thenbsp;Turkish ladies beg him not to drive them barefoot over the stones, sincenbsp;they have not been used to it. But he takes no heed of their complaints;nbsp;he beats them with cudgels and brings them back with him to Senj. Henbsp;sells the younger captives into slavery and puts the older ones to thenbsp;sword. The same event forms the subject of another poem (jb. No. 111) ;nbsp;but here the castle of Asan-aga, captured by Ivo, is called Belgrade.�nbsp;There is no reference to the treatment of the women.

' The metre of this poem is irregular, some lines having ten syllables, others twelve. The following poems are decasyllabic (with occasional irregularities).

� The confusion is perhaps due to the fact that bio grad (�white castle�) is a static term applied to any castle or fortified town. In No. no it is applied tonbsp;Jajce.

The death of Ivo is the subject of another poem? He has been raiding in Italy, and on his return is ambushed and mortally wounded, thoughnbsp;he succeeds in making his way home. His enemy, Asan-aga�if it be thenbsp;same person�figures in the famous �Lament� of his wife, which was,nbsp;we understand, the first of the narodne pjamp;sme. to be translated intonbsp;English.

Some of the poems of this period are of a more romantic or imaginative character than those which have been noticed above. For an example of this kind we may refer to Bogisi�, No. 99. Alajbeg Cengicnbsp;has in his prison a certain Bozo Rajkovic, whom he refuses to put tonbsp;ransom, until he sees his sister and wife before him. Word of this comesnbsp;to Rajkovic�s sister, and she persuades the wife to give her her brother�snbsp;horse and to dress her up in his accoutrements. Cengic�s wife wakes hernbsp;husband and tells him that a magnificent looking warrior has arrived ;nbsp;he must go out to greet him. He does so; but the horse kicks him andnbsp;throws him down, and then Rajkovic�s sister seizes and binds him. Thennbsp;she beats him with a cudgel, and demands the keys of the prison.nbsp;Cengic�s wife brings the keys, and when she tries to prevent the releasenbsp;of Rajkovic the stranger strikes her with them. Then she sets hernbsp;brother free and takes him off with her, and also Cengic as a prisoner.nbsp;On the way she asks her brother if he recognises the horse and accoutrements; and he confesses that he knows them to be his own. But he doesnbsp;not know his sister, whom he believes to be a man. He supposes thatnbsp;his wife has been compelled to sell his accoutrements to a warrior unknown to him. On their arrival home she makes herself known. Thennbsp;she beats Cengic with a cudgel; and he begs to be allowed to ransomnbsp;himself. He writes to his wife; and she sends his horse and a largenbsp;quantity of treasure. As soon as this has arrived Rajkovic�s sister cutsnbsp;off Cengic�s head and fastens his body to his horse, which she sets free.nbsp;The horse gallops home; and Cengic�s wife, seeing it coming, believesnbsp;her husband to be returning, and calls to her ladies to welcome him.nbsp;When she sees the body she laments that she has lost both her husbandnbsp;and her treasure.

In two other poems in Bogisic�s collection (Nos. 63 and 64) mention is made of an Alajbeg Cengic, governor of Hercegovina, who foughtnbsp;with the Venetians in 1654; but we do not know whether this is the

� The originals of this poem and also of the �Lament� are not accessible to us. The former is transi, (by Seton-Watson) in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 47 if.nbsp;For the latter see ib. p. 224.

329 same man? It should be mentioned that a variant of No. 99 occurs innbsp;No. 98, in which the rescued man is called Raskovic. But here no namenbsp;is given to the unfortunate Turk; he is spoken of merely as �the vizier�.nbsp;Mohammedan poems relating to this period are numerous, thoughnbsp;many of them cannot properly be described as heroic. As an example ofnbsp;the heroic class we may take the following.� The chief characters arenbsp;said to be well known historical persons of the seventeenth century.nbsp;Cejvan Aga is drinking with his nephew Ibro Nukic and a party ofnbsp;friends, when he receives a message from the Sultan, ordering him tonbsp;arrest a brigand named Vuk Gnjatijevic. They prepare to set out; butnbsp;Ibro begs for a day�s respite, as he is to be married. The wedding takesnbsp;place; but he sits up all night, singing and playing the guitar {tambura).nbsp;Then he gives his bride a large sum of money, and rejoins his uncle.nbsp;Cejvan calls for a volunteer who will track the brigand to his lair, andnbsp;only Ibro will undertake the dangerous duty. He finds the brigands,nbsp;thirty in number, in a defile of the mountains, rushes upon them single-handed with his sword, and slays all of them except Vuk, whom henbsp;binds to a tree. He is himself too badly wounded to move, but he firesnbsp;two shots to attract Cej van�s notice. When the latter arrives with hisnbsp;party, Ibro tells him that he is mortally wounded, and gives him hisnbsp;clothes and weapons for one of his friends. Then Cejvan takes thenbsp;prisoner to Sarajevo and claims all the credit for himself. Hasannbsp;Pasha Coso enquires after Ibro; and �ejvan says he is being married. Butnbsp;now Vuk convicts him of lying; and the Pasha puts them both in prison.nbsp;In the meantime three Vile come to Ibro and tend his wounds. He soonnbsp;recovers, and then makes his way to Sarajevo. There he obtains thenbsp;release of his uncle, and is rewarded with a sword of honour for hisnbsp;exploit.

One of the most famous Mohammedan heroes is the heg Ljubovic, who belongs to Hercegovina, though we do not know his date. In onenbsp;poem3 he is said to have a great number of cattle, which he sells advantageously in Dalmatia. Then he makes his way to Zara, in spite ofnbsp;warnings from his foster-brother Stjepan Majkovic and others, who tellnbsp;him that Turks are prohibited from entering that city by an agreementnbsp;between the Turkish and the Austrian emperors. He insists upon

� The death of an Alajbeg Cengic is celebrated in Karadzic, iv. 49 ff. (No. 8); but this would seem to be a different person.

� Publ. with German translation by Krauss, op. cit. p. 394 ff. The events are said to have taken place about 270 years before the date of publication (1908).

visiting the place, and surveys the buildings and fortifications. Then he is observed by the ban (governor), who orders his men to attack himnbsp;and cut offquot;his arm. The bans page undertakes the duty. Ljubovic atnbsp;first takes no notice of him, but when the page strikes him he turns andnbsp;cuts him in two. Then he is attacked by the bans troops; but henbsp;succeeds in fighting his way out through the gates and escaping. Nownbsp;the ban writes to the Pasha at Banjaluka, sending him rich presents andnbsp;demanding the punishment of Ljubovic. The Pasha despatches hisnbsp;officer, named Erdo, to Nevesilje (Nevesinje), the home of Ljubovic;nbsp;but the beg is away hunting. Erdo puts to death both his child and hisnbsp;mother, and then sets out on his return to Banjaluka. When Ljubovicandnbsp;Majkovic, who lives with him, come home and discover the outrage,nbsp;they start at once to intercept the murderers. Erdo is captured and sentnbsp;back to the Pasha after he has been half flayed ; the rest are killed. Thennbsp;the Pasha appeals to the Sultan, who sends an officer with a strong forcenbsp;to arrest Ljubovic. On the arrival of these Ljubovic and Majkovic givenbsp;themselves up; but immediately afterwards a message comes from thenbsp;Sultan, calling for a champion to defend him against the challenge of anbsp;black Arab. Majkovic takes up the challenge, goes to Constantinoplenbsp;and slays the Arab. He will not accept the Sultan�s offers of treasure or thenbsp;hand of a princess. He asks only for a grant of baronial rights and thenbsp;death of the Pasha�whom he subsequently captures and flays.

We do not know who Ljubovic was, or when he lived. There may have been more than one beg of this name. But it may be observed thatnbsp;he is a �Turk*, i.e. a Mohammedan, whereas his foster-brother Stjepannbsp;Majkovic, who lives with him, is evidently�from his name�anbsp;Christian. But there is no trace of any feeling of religious antagonism innbsp;the poem. The reciter, from whom it was taken down, was a Christian,nbsp;and so also was the man from whom he had learnt it; and it may be duenbsp;to this that Majkovic appears on the whole to be the greater hero of thenbsp;two. But the fight with the Arab may well be an accretion to the story;nbsp;for very similar incidents are related of Marko Kraljevic and othernbsp;heroes. It is not clear to us whether the poem was originally Christiannbsp;or Mohammedan; it may have circulated among both communities. Thenbsp;heroes have no respect for any authorities, whether Christian ornbsp;Turkish, except the Sultan himself.

III. Lastly, something must be said with regard to the numerous poems relating to Montenegro in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuriesnbsp;and to the Serbian wars of independence. The great majority of the

331 poems of this period are concerned with warfare against the Turks.nbsp;Poems of purely domestic interest seem to be very rare. The heroes ofnbsp;the Montenegrin poems seem usually to be men of the same class as Ivonbsp;of Senj ; the rulers, whether bishop or prince, seldom play a leading part.nbsp;But the fighting is often on a much larger scale; the forces engaged arenbsp;sometimes armies rather than bands. This remark is true also of thenbsp;poems relating to Serbia. Here the leading hero is Gjorgje or Gjokonbsp;(Djoko) Petrovic (Kara-Gjorgje), who was for some years (1804-13)nbsp;the de facto ruler of Serbia, and from whom the present royal familynbsp;are descended. An important part is also played by Milos (Obrenovic),nbsp;who subsequently succeeded in establishing himself as prince. It maynbsp;be observed that in some poems, especially those relating to Montenegro,nbsp;the achievements or adventures of the heroes tend to be lost in those ofnbsp;the army as a whole, though hardly to the same extent as in Mohammedan poems. More often, however, heroic characteristics are wellnbsp;preserved.

The poems relating to the Serbian war of independence also vary a good deal in character. Although some are definitely heroic, othersnbsp;approximate more to �post-heroic� standards; national interest is preponderant, while the personal element is sometimes comparativelynbsp;slight. Among these we may perhaps notice here an important poemnbsp;(Karadzi�, iv. 24)� on the rising of 1804, though it can hardly be regarded as heroic in the strict sense. The Turks in Belgrade are dismayednbsp;by portents in the sky�obscurations of the sun and moon, thunder andnbsp;lightning in the winter, accompanied with earthquakes. The sevennbsp;leading men ascend a tower with a glass of water from the Danube bynbsp;means of which they seek to interpret the portents; but it reflects theirnbsp;deaths. Then they send for learned men, to ascertain what is to be foundnbsp;in the scriptures; but they find that the time is now come for the peasantsnbsp;to rise and for Turkish dominion to be overthrown. Mehmed Aga, onenbsp;of the leading men, announces his determination to take stern measuresnbsp;against the Serbians and to put to death their leaders. The oldest of thenbsp;Turks endeavours to dissuade him, and recommends a conciliatorynbsp;policy; but the others follow Mehmed Aga. Then several of the Serbiannbsp;leaders are trapped and beheaded; and a party of Turks is sent tonbsp;arrest Kara-Gjorgje. But he escapes, and arms the men of his farm.nbsp;They attack the Turks, kill half of them, and give pursuit to the rest.

� Nearly the whole of this poem (except the first 41 lines) is transi, by Morison, Slavonic Review, VI. 646 ff. Very few of the poems relating to this period seem tonbsp;have been translated into English,

Then Gjorgje calls the Serbians to arms throughout the country. A general rising takes place, and the Turks are overcome and slaughterednbsp;everywhere.

In Other poems the individual element is more prominent. We may take as an example a short poem, No. 40 in Karadzic�s collection (iv. 310 ff.),nbsp;which describes Kara-Gjorgje�s departure in 1813. It is a poem ofnbsp;Type B, in the form of two dialogues between the hero and a Vila, ornbsp;rather perhaps two different Vile. The Vila calls to him first fromnbsp;Mt Rudnik and asks him what he is doing, taking his leisure while thenbsp;Turks are overrunning the land. Gjoko tells her to be silent, and saysnbsp;that he has no fear of emperor or vizier while his lieutenants hold theirnbsp;positions. The Vila replies that his lieutenants are either killed or cutnbsp;off, and that the Turks are close upon him; and she tells him to take tonbsp;flight. He then flees to the land of Srijem, beyond the Sava, and bidsnbsp;farewell to his country; but he says that he will return within a year.nbsp;The Turks now devastate the country. When a year and a half havenbsp;elapsed (65 ff.) a Vila from the neighbourhood of the Sava calls tonbsp;him, telling him that his home has been laid waste and reminding him ofnbsp;his promise. In reply Gjoko sends greeting to his country and tonbsp;Milos, and wishes for their success. He says that he will supply plentynbsp;of ammunition; but he is himself going not to his country but to thenbsp;emperor of Moscow, to serve him for a year.

�Prince Milos� Revolt against the Turks�, No. 45 in Karadzic�s collection (iv. 341 ff.), is a much longer poem, likewise of Type B,nbsp;The framework is cast in a traditional mould. Two ravens fly fromnbsp;(Old) Serbia southwards to Skoplje, and alight at the castle of Cajanbsp;Pasha. They tell the Pasha�s wife that they have brought news; and shenbsp;questions them, expecting to hear an account of his victories. They saynbsp;that at first he was successful; and she runs off to tell the news to thenbsp;guests in the castle. But they call her back to hear the continuation ofnbsp;the story, which occupies the rest of the poem. The Pasha had actednbsp;with great tyranny against the inhabitants, and they had appealed fornbsp;protection to Milos, whose co-operation the Pasha had hoped to secure.nbsp;In answer to their petition he consented to lead a rising, and went tonbsp;obtain munitions of war. The Pasha was victorious in the first encounter�and on hearing this the lady again runs off to tell the goodnbsp;news, but again the ravens call her back. Then they go on to relate hownbsp;in the next engagement the Turks were defeated and the Pasha killed.nbsp;Another battle followed in which their forces were utterly routed, andnbsp;most of the leaders slain. The ravens narrate the course of events in

333 detail, and dwell with evident pride upon the prowess and success of thenbsp;Serbians. At the conclusion they leave the Pasha�s wife overwhelmednbsp;with grief.

It will be seen that this poem cannot be described as purely heroic. The patriotic element is much in evidence, while the interest is centrednbsp;more in the Serbian army as a whole than in Milos himself. The eventsnbsp;described took place in the year 1815.

The great majority of the Montenegrin poems of this period are occupied with fighting and the preliminaries of fighting. Women arenbsp;rarely introduced, except members of the princely family, and thesenbsp;only in the very few poems which are not concerned with fighting.nbsp;But the heroic element would seem to be on the decline. In thenbsp;poems contained in Karadzic�s fourth volume, which comes downnbsp;to the death of Bishop Peter II (1851), it is usually much in evidence.nbsp;But in the fifth volume, which covers the reign of Prince Danilonbsp;(1851-1861), examples are less frequent; the interest in individualnbsp;heroes tends to be subordinated to the national interest, or rathernbsp;to the doings of the whole body of Montenegrins involved in thenbsp;action. The leading characters indeed sometimes figure rather asnbsp;commanders than as combatants, though they take part in the fighting. Much of the poems is occupied with letters and speeches beforenbsp;the action.

Heroic features, however, are by no means wanting. As an illustration we may take �The Death of Djulek� (Karadzic, v. 2). A priest named Luka receives a letter from a friend called Zimonjic Bogdan,nbsp;who lives at Gacko in Hercegovina, telling him of the tyrannous doingsnbsp;of Djulek, an imperial major (bimbasa), who has recently come fromnbsp;Constantinople. The letter states further that Djulek means to establishnbsp;himself at Niksic�which at that time belonged to Turkey�and begsnbsp;the priest to help in intercepting him on his way. The priest promptlynbsp;writes to various friends, apparently leading men of the neighbouringnbsp;districts, to assemble their followers and meet him on the way to Gacko.nbsp;Having assembled his forces he joins Bogdan; and they ambush andnbsp;surround Djulek, who has a large body of Albanians with him. Djuleknbsp;draws his sword and challenges the Montenegrins to combat; but he isnbsp;shot down, and so also is a �Mack Arab� who tries to defend him. Thennbsp;three Montenegrins, whose names are given, attempt, one after another,nbsp;to get Djulek�s head; but they are all shot down by the Albanians.nbsp;Next, the Montenegrins make a charge; and now a fourth man succeedsnbsp;in cutting off the head, while a fifth, one of the leaders, gets that of the

black Arab? Then the Turks take to flight. The Montenegrins pursue them, and take off sixty heads. Much booty is captured, in the form ofnbsp;weapons and horses, and divided among the conquerors. But the ladiesnbsp;of Djulek�s harem are sent home�an incident which occurs elsewherenbsp;and which shows a marked improvement upon the ways of earliernbsp;times. The best rifle is given to the priest, as the prize of honour. Thenbsp;heads are brought to Cetinje, and the town is decorated with them. Thenbsp;prince receives the warriors graciously and gives them silver medals.

A good deal of typical heroic matter occurs in Karadzic, v. 3, which describes � Omer Pasha�s attack upon Montenegro �, in 18 5 2-3. The poemnbsp;is too long to be summarised here, but we may cite a short series ofnbsp;passages (891 ff.). The Turks are attacking a church, which is defendednbsp;by a party of Montenegrins. A Turkish oflicer named Alo Verizovicnbsp;calls out and asks if Krco Petrovic is there�^whom he accuses of seizingnbsp;his estates at Zupa. Krco, who is a relative of the prince, replies fromnbsp;the church and challenges him to single combat, in which they shallnbsp;divide Zupa with the sword. The Turk is to choose whether they shallnbsp;fight on foot or on horseback. After this (923 ff.) the famous heronbsp;Cerovic Novica begs Mirko, the prince�s brother, not to let anyone firenbsp;until he has had the first shot. He takes aim at Omer Pasha, but missesnbsp;him though he hits his standard-bearer. Then, a little later (948 ff.), wenbsp;have a description of Mirko himself, the commander-in-chief, mounting anbsp;spirited horse and with drawn sword inciting his men, one after another,nbsp;to heroism, and calling upon them to hold the church until reinforcements arrive. Similar heroic features are much in evidence also in thenbsp;poems (zA V. 12 f.) on the �Sack of Kolasin�.

In conclusion we may note two poems in the same collection (v. 17 f.) which relate to the death of Prince Danilo (in 1861). Thenbsp;first called �The Lament of the Dragon on the Lovcen�, properlynbsp;belongs, at least in part, to Type D, though it has the form of Type B.nbsp;The poem begins with a rhetorical question in the form of the�notnbsp;uncommon�inverted simile. The Black Mountain is echoing. Is it thenbsp;rushing of the wind over the heights, or the whistling of the pines, or thenbsp;distant booming of cannon at Cetinje, or the beating of the waves uponnbsp;the shore.^ No, it is none of these things�it is a wounded dragon on thenbsp;top of the Lovcen^ groaning over the loss of his wings. A white Vila

� Presumably this was a negro slave. But the Yugoslavs of the past seem to have had a peculiar dread of coloured people.

� The Lovcen (5700 ft.) rises above Cattaro, guarding the approach to Cetinje. The Durmitor (8295 ft.) is in the north of Montenegro.

335 from the Durmitor calls out and asks him the cause of his grief. Henbsp;replies (36 if.) that he has lost both his wings, one many years before atnbsp;Grahovo, and now the other, with which he had still been able to fly,nbsp;near Cattaro.� Now he is helpless. The Vila answers him, comfortingnbsp;him and saying that, though he has lost his wings, he has produced anbsp;fierce snake,� who will have the wings of a falcon, and round whom thenbsp;falcons will gather. She tells him further that he has ten brothers�nbsp;personifying the various divisions of the Yugoslav nation�who willnbsp;come to his aid and drive the national foes from the land. Then (161 if.)nbsp;the poem goes on to say that this was not really a dragon but Mirko thenbsp;Vojvoda (�general�), who is lamenting the death of his brother. Princenbsp;Danilo. He is consoled by his young son Nikola. It may be noted thatnbsp;the speeches of the Vila in this poem show a strongly developed nationalnbsp;interest.

The other poem {jh. v. 18), called �Sorrow and Joy at the Death of Prince Danilo�, differs in form from all other heroic poems known tonbsp;us. It consists wholly of speeches, connected by brief narratives innbsp;prose, and is divided into five parts. In the first part the scene is laid innbsp;the Biljarda3 at Cetinje, after the funeral. The prince is lamented first bynbsp;Darinka, his wife, next by Stana, the wife of Mirko, then by the variousnbsp;generals and senators in order. After the lamentations Darinka declaresnbsp;Nikola to be prince; and he is acclaimed by the assembled company andnbsp;congratulated by the foreign representatives. The second, third andnbsp;fourth parts describe�again wholly in speeches�the reception of thenbsp;news in Turkish gatherings, first at Skadar, then at Onogost in Hercegovina, and finally in the imperial court at Constantinople. The fifthnbsp;scene is laid in Paradise, where the kings and national heroes of the pastnbsp;�Dusan, Lazar, Milos Obilic, Peter II, and many others�are assemblednbsp;in council. Danilo arrives and is welcomed by them. It will be seen thatnbsp;in its general plan this poem may be compared with the Hakonar-while for the final scene an analogy is to be found also in thenbsp;Odyssey, xxiv. 15 ff., though the reception of Danilo is of coursenbsp;honorific.

* Prince Danilo was murdered near Cattaro, where he was taking a holiday. His brother Stefan had been killed in battle by the Turks at Grahovo in 1835.

� Regarded as the young of the dragon. The reference is to Mirko�s son Nikola, who succeeded Danilo, his father�s brother, as prince. In 1910 he took the title ofnbsp;king.

3 The state-room in the old palace. It derived its name from the billiard-table installed in it by Bishop Peter II.

The last four scenes of this poem obviously belong to Type B, and the same is perhaps true of the first scene, though this is not quite sonbsp;certain. The poem was supplied to Karadzic with many others bynbsp;Kapetan Savo Martinovic, who figures prominently as a hero in anbsp;number of poems, and who had been attached to the prince�s service fornbsp;some time. But he left Montenegro, apparently before the prince�snbsp;death, and in 1862 he was living at Zara.^ Savo was a poet himself, asnbsp;we shall see later; but it is not clear to what extent he actually composednbsp;the poems attributed to him, though he was probably responsible fornbsp;their final form.� In this case the question is whether the whole poem,nbsp;including the first scene, was a purely imaginative work, composed bynbsp;him at Zara, or whether it was based on letters or verbal report fromnbsp;Montenegro. In any case, however, it would seem likely that the firstnbsp;scene follows more or less traditional lines�that it represents what thenbsp;members of the court might be expected to say.

It may be noted that the speeches of the generals and senators are in the ordinary decasyllabic metre; but those of the royal ladies, Darinkanbsp;and Stana,3 are in a different metre, which we have not observed elsewhere in heroic poetry, though we suspect that it was in common use fornbsp;dirges.4 Each line contains twelve syllables, with a caesura after thenbsp;eighth syllable, as well as after the fourth; and the last four syllablesnbsp;stand in no syntactical relationship to the sentence. These two speechesnbsp;are dirges in the strict sense. We may quote the opening lines of Darinka�snbsp;speech, though it is difficult to render the broken sentences in English :nbsp;�The lords have assembled�young prince!�around thy throne�nbsp;young head ! But thou art not in the palace�my wounds !�nor uponnbsp;thy throne�golden crown! The golden crown has been torn off�nbsp;illustrious prince! For a little while, but not for long�long grief!�thynbsp;throne stands forsaken�now I am forsaken! The lords have beennbsp;brought low�^now I am disfigured ! Everyone around the palace mournsnbsp;�now I am mourning !... � The scene described in the prose narrativenbsp;is of a highly emotional character. In its general features we may

� This is stated in the Preface to Vol. iv. Karadzic does not say when Savo left Montenegro; but his words imply that he had at least retired from the prince�snbsp;service some time before 1861.

� Internal evidence suggests that some of the poems, especially v. i, are largely Savo�s work.

3 Darinka belonged to a wealthy family in Trieste, and had presumably received a European education. But she might be expected to follow the customs of thenbsp;country. We do not know the origin of Stana.

337 compare the lamentation of the royal ladies over Hector in the Iliad,nbsp;XXIV. 723 fi?

We have not seen any examples of heroic poetry later than these; but we are under the impression that it was still cultivated in Montenegronbsp;during at least the first half of Nikola�s reign. After that the opportunities for heroic exploits were much reduced, partly through thenbsp;Austrian occupation of Bosnia and Hercegovina, and partly by the improvements in education and communication introduced under Nikola.nbsp;It is said, however, that new heroic poems were composed during thenbsp;wars of 1912-18, even in Serbia. One instance may be given.^ In 1914nbsp;a guslar (�minstrel�) was entertaining the wounded in a military hospitalnbsp;at Kragujevac, when news came that the surgeon�s son had been killed.nbsp;At the request of his audience the minstrel at once produced a poem onnbsp;the subject. He had practically no knowledge of the circumstances, butnbsp;followed time-honoured conventions. Two ravens fly from the field ofnbsp;battle and alight at the barracks, where they are questioned by the commanding officer. A few days later the same minstrel was heard repeatingnbsp;the poem, but with full details which he had apparently acquired fromnbsp;someone who had been present. The poem would seem to have been innbsp;narrative form; but we may probably regard it as an example of Type D,nbsp;since it was composed more for the purpose of showing sympathy with,nbsp;the surgeon than for entertainment.

We may now summarise briefly the characteristics of the heroic poems, in accordance with the scheme outlined in Vol. i, p. 60 ff.nbsp;(cf. p. 20 ff.) :

� For this illustration we are indebted to Gesemann, Studien ^ur s�dslavischen Vtlksepik, p. 65 f.

3 We have not seen any heroic poetry of Type E; but something as to its character may be inferred from the song sung by Ibro Nukic on his wedding night (cf. p. 329) ;nbsp;�Is my uncle at the foot of the mountain.� Is he already expecting Nukic thenbsp;standard-bearer?� For the �types� see p. 2.

Montenegrin poems may perhaps be regarded as exceptions; but we doubt if these can have had a long life.

(6, 7) The metre which has been almost invariably used for heroic poetry in modern times is a uniform decasyllabic line, with caesuranbsp;after the fourth syllable, and without rhyme or stanza; but�in contrastnbsp;to Anglo-Saxon heroic poetry�stops seldom occur in the interior of anbsp;line. This metre has been in use for more than two centuries, as may benbsp;seen by MS. collections. But the poems preserved in early collections�nbsp;at least those in the Franciscan (Ragusa) and Perast MSS.�almostnbsp;always show a number of irregularities�lines with more or less than tennbsp;syllables and variable position of the caesura. The regularity, therefore,nbsp;which characterises the modern metre can hardly have belonged to it

* Karadzic suspected that two of the poems (Nos. 10 and ii) contained in his fourth volume were originally the work of Bishop Peter I, though transformed innbsp;popular use; see his note, ib. p. 68. As regards the authorship of some of the poemsnbsp;contained in Vol. v see above, p. 336. None of these poems can have been currentnbsp;more than about a dozen years before they were printed. It may be observed thatnbsp;no authority is cited for �The Lamentation of the Dragon�, though this poemnbsp;cannot have been composed more than three years before the publication of thenbsp;volume.

339 from the beginning. In some poems (especially Bogisic, Nos. 105, 108,nbsp;113) lines of twelve and thirteen syllables are frequent, and some contain even more, suggesting a transition from the bugarstica.

The hugarstice in general belong to an earlier period, and are known only from MSS. (and books) of the eighteenth century and earlier. Innbsp;the Perast collections we can see bugaTstice converted into decasyllabicnbsp;poems, as will be noticed later. So far as we are aware, they never dealnbsp;with events later than the seventeenth century. Their normal line is ofnbsp;variable length�usually between fourteen and seventeen syllables�nbsp;but much shorter lines are often introduced at intervals, as noticed onnbsp;p. 304. In some collections�' almost all the poems, whether heroic or not,nbsp;consist regularly throughout of groups of three Unes�long, short, longnbsp;�which may practically be regarded as stanzas. In the Bocche dinbsp;Cattaro this type seems practically to have ousted all others. The largestnbsp;collection of all�the Franciscan MS. at Ragusa^�shows considerablenbsp;diversity. Out of thirty-seven poems in all twenty-three have a uniformnbsp;long line, while three others contain only one short line each. Nearlynbsp;all these are heroic poems, mostly of Type A. Of the eleven poemsnbsp;which introduce short lines more frequently not more than six arenbsp;heroic, mostly of Type B. This evidence, so far as it goes, rathernbsp;suggests that the uniform long line was the prevalent metre for heroicnbsp;poetry of Type A. But we say this with all reserve; for we believe thatnbsp;there are a number of hugarstice in existence which have not beennbsp;accessible to us.

very greatly; but the conciseness characteristic of Norse heroic poetry is in general foreign to these poems.

(10) Static epithets are as frequent as in Greek and English heroic poetry. Thus mountains are regularly �green� hands �white�nbsp;(Jbio), wine �cool� (Jiladan)^ relatives and friends �dear� {mio, drag}, thenbsp;earth �black� {cm}. Epithets containing nouns in apposition withnbsp;personal names also occur, though hardly so often as in Greek andnbsp;English. We may instance Karadzic, v. 12. 127 f.: �Then spake thenbsp;spiritual head, the Archimandrite�, or ib. 7.. 65, where a certain Novaknbsp;Krstovic is described as �swift champion (lit. �plumed man�) of Montenegro�. Occasionally one meets with more ambitious examples, as innbsp;ib. II. 45. 4 (and elsewhere), where Lazar is described as �golden crownnbsp;of Serbia�. Heroes are often described as �falcons�. Repetitions are ofnbsp;constant occurrence and frequently extend over long passages. Speechesnbsp;are introduced in much the same way as in Greek and English heroicnbsp;poetry.

(i i) The length of time covered by the action usually amounts to no more than a few days. Poems relating to early times, however, sometimes fall into two or more scenes, which may be separated by longnbsp;intervals. In � The Captivity and Marriage of Stjepan Jaksic� (cf. p. 3 24)nbsp;the intervals altogether must come to nearly two years. In � The Marriagenbsp;of Maxim Crnojevic� (Karadzic, ii. No. 89), 183 ff. nine years elapse;nbsp;but the part of the poem which precedes this passage is merely preliminary to the main action.

(12) The time of the action relatively to the poet� is seldom, if ever, expressed. There can be no doubt that the modern poems were composed soon�sometimes immediately�after the events with which theynbsp;are concerned. Whether this was the case in earlier times also is a questionnbsp;which we shall have to consider later. All that need be noted here is thatnbsp;there was no convention, as there was in Norse heroic poetry, of statingnbsp;that the events happened long ago.�

It may be added here that the heroic narrative poetry (Type A), taken as a whole, presents hardly any features which strike the student ofnbsp;Greek and English heroic poetry as unfamiliar, although certain groupsnbsp;of poems have some special characteristics of their own in metre ornbsp;diction. Poems of Types B and D tend to approximate to Type A more

� Poems occasionally give the dates of the events with which they deal; e.g. Karadzi�, v. 3, ad init.

� In the epilogue to one of the poems published by Krauss {op. cit. p. 248) the minstrel says that �we� did not see (the events), but have heard of them from ournbsp;elders.

341 closely than in Norse, while they have little in common with theirnbsp;Welsh and Irish counterparts/ In general the outstanding feature ofnbsp;Yugoslav heroic poetry of all types, as compared with the ancientnbsp;literatures, is the greater simplicity of its language and diction.

With Russian heroic poetry the relationship seems to be somewhat closer. The two languages are of course nearly related; and thenbsp;diction of oral poetry in general has much which is common to both.nbsp;On the other hand there is no connection in the heroic stories, as innbsp;English, Norse and German heroic poetry; there are no themes ornbsp;characters common to the two. The metres also are wholly different.nbsp;There is, however, a certain similarity in the style of the narratives ;nbsp;and occasionally we meet with conventional passages, e.g. in thenbsp;openings of poems, which seem to indicate a connection, not merelynbsp;in poetry generally, but even in heroic narrative poetry. Some ofnbsp;these conventions may be due to communication between Russian andnbsp;Yugoslav poets in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; but othersnbsp;may be much older.

Note. The following are the more important sentences in the translation of Ducas/ relating to the banquet before the battle of Kosovo, as noted onnbsp;p. 315. The connection with certain passages in Karadzic, 11.50. iii (translatednbsp;by Seton-Watson in Subotic�s Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 65 f.) is obviousnbsp;enough.

�El zomo precedente a quello ehe segul la iniqua et infelice bataglia, Lazaro convocati tutti i signori et principali del suo imperio,^ comand� ehenbsp;se aparechiasse una sdraviza secondo la usanza del� sua corte; in laquale, comenbsp;gratioso et benigno signore, a tutti porse la sdraviza con sua mano. Quandonbsp;la volta tocc� a Milos, se f� dar una grande taza d� oro plena de pretioso vino,�*nbsp;la qual porzendoli disse a Milos: �Excellentissimo cavalier, prendi questanbsp;sdraviza, ehe con la taza te dono... sdravize per amor mio. Ma molto minbsp;doglio ehe ho inteso una mala novella, ehe al tuo dispoto sei facto ribello�.�

* Darinka�s lament (cf. p. 336) has something in common with Welsh and Irish elegies, but it is much simpler.

Ib. 3. 13: nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Car uzima zlatan pehar vina, etc.

5 Ih. 4. 31 ff.: nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Zdrav Milosu, vjero i nevjero!

prva vjero, potonja nevjero! Sjutra ces me izdat� na Kosovu,nbsp;i odbjeci Turskom car-Muratu;nbsp;zdrav mi budi! i zdravicu popij:nbsp;vino popij, a na cast ti pehar.

Al qual Milos, reverentemente presa la taza con chiara faza, disse; �Signor dispoto, molto te ringratio della sdraviza et taza d� oro ehe m� ai donata. Manbsp;molto mi doglio del� mia dubitata fedeJ Doman de matina, se dio dar�nbsp;effecto al� alto pensier mio, se cognoscer� se io son fidele o ribello del� tuanbsp;Signoria

An account of the banquet and of the events which followed, very similar to that contained in the translation of Ducas, may be found in Ludovicusnbsp;(Cerva) Tubero�s Commentarii,^ which were written c. 1522. Butit is not takennbsp;from the translation; both seem to be derived from the poems. In one passagenbsp;at least (p. 144 f.) Tubero shows a closer connection with the hugarsticanbsp;(Bogi�ic, No. i): Lazarus, Dardanorum rex, duces suos ad coenam uocat,nbsp;ohiectuTUS inter coenandum Miloni, ex purpuratis uni, proditionem, cuius anbsp;quodam aemulo per inuidiam apud se erat criminatus. In the poem (ii8 ff.)nbsp;Vuk Brankovi� accuses Milo� of treachery; but the accusation is made tonbsp;Lazar at the banquet itself. In the descriptions of Milo� and Lazar�s deathsnbsp;the Italian is much nearer than Tubero to the hugarstica, though both of them,nbsp;as against the latter, represent Milo� as going alone to the Turkish camp.

A somewhat different account of the banquet is given in Benedict Curi-peschitz� Itinerarium,^ in an entry dated 24 September, 1530. Milo� is here said to be an old man. The account of his death, however, shows some resemblance to the hugarstica. Note may also be taken of the same author�snbsp;statement�* that many songs are still sung in Croatia and the Frontier aboutnbsp;Milo� exploits.

In view of the evidence given above there can be no reasonable doubt that heroic poems relating to Milo� were widely current at the beginning of thenbsp;sixteenth century, and that by this time his exploit was already celebrated innbsp;a number of variant forms. The first poems on the subject�including annbsp;account of the banquet�must clearly have been composed at a much earliernbsp;date. It is also worth noting that, if we may judge from the early authoritiesnbsp;cited above, the account of the banquet given in Karadzic�s poem seems to benbsp;more conservative than the one in the hugarstica, though the latter is a muchnbsp;older text. Analogies for this will be noticed later.

Vala tebe, slavni knez-Lazare! Vala tebe na tvojoj zdravici,nbsp;na zdravici i na daru tvome;nbsp;al� ne vala na takoj besjedi; etc.

�* �Milosch Khobilovitz... von welches ritterlicher thatten noch yetzt in Crabaten und der ennde vill lider gesungen werden� (p. 47).

classification of Yugoslav oral literature. In point of fact both categories are represented; but the division here is geographical rather thannbsp;chronological. There is also a certain amount of material which must benbsp;regarded as transitional or intermediate between the two. We shallnbsp;therefore attempt to treat all non-heroic poetry in this chapter. We willnbsp;deal first with poems whose affinities lie with the non-heroic poetry andnbsp;saga discussed in Vol. i, Ch vi, then with poems which seem to belongnbsp;to the post-heroic category. In the former we will follow the classification adopted t1gt;. p. 96 ff., viz. :

(i) A distinction must be drawn between stories relating to native (Yugoslav) saints and those relating to saints of earlier times who arenbsp;recognised by Christendom in general. The latter are for the most partnbsp;similar to the stories of supernatural beings discussed in Vol. i. Ch. ix,nbsp;and will be noticed in Ch. vi, below.

We have met with very few stories of the former class. As an example we may take � Simeun the Foundling� (Karadzi�, n. 70 ff.. No. 15). An unnamed emperor or king (car) marries a girl called Janja againstnbsp;her will. When she bears a child she throws it into the sea, clothed in anbsp;vest. It is discovered by the Serbian princely Patriarch St Sava,^ whonbsp;brings it up and calls it Simeun (Symeon) the Foundling. When Simeunnbsp;is grown up he sets out to look for his parents. The king has just died,nbsp;and the queen is sought in marriage by the chief nobles. She proposes a

� Son of Stjepan Nemanja, the founder of the dynasty, and first archbishop of Serbia (c. 1220). The poem describes him as Patriarch.

contest to settle her choice: she is to throw a golden apple and to marry the man who catches it. Simeun accomplishes the feat, and she marriesnbsp;him; but while he is away hunting she finds the vest and realises that shenbsp;has married her own son. When Simeun hears what has happened henbsp;appeals to St Sava for absolution. But the saint replies that no absolutionnbsp;is possible for such a sin. He immures him in a tower, and throws thenbsp;keys into the sea. Thirty years later the keys are found in a fish. Thennbsp;St Sava opens the door of the tower, and finds that Simeun is dead andnbsp;has become beatified.

It would seem from the closing lines of the poem that the church of Vilendara recognised a saint corresponding to this Simeun. But thenbsp;story has all the appearance of a folktale. It may be observed that anbsp;variant version is to be found in Karadzic, No. 14 (ii. 63 ff.). In this anbsp;nameless monk takes the place of St Sava, and a queen of Hungary thatnbsp;of Queen Janja. The child is found in the Danube, and there is nonbsp;contest.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�

(2) We do not know of any poems relating to prophets or wizards. This class of stories indeed belongs properly to heathen times, in spitenbsp;of the Irish and Welsh examples given in Vol. i. But we may perhapsnbsp;cite here a story which in part turns upon the wisdom attributed to annbsp;architect, though we are not at all certain that it does not properly belongnbsp;to No. 3, below. We know the story only from the abstract given bynbsp;Gesemann, Studien siidslavischen Volksepik^ p. 98 id

Mehmed Sokolovic, a wealthy Pasha, decides to build a bridge over the Drina at Visegrad, in Bosnia. He summons an architect namednbsp;Mitar, and tells him to engage three hundred builders and a thousandnbsp;workmen, without regard to expense. Mitar rides into the middle ofnbsp;the river, to test its depth; but there the horse comes to a stand andnbsp;refuses to move. The Pasha throws his amulet to the architect; and thenbsp;horse then springs out of the water, dragging with it a Vila, whose hairnbsp;has become entangled round its feet. Mitar means to kill the Vila; butnbsp;she begs for her life and promises her help in making the bridge secure.nbsp;Now for seven years he toils at the bridge; but the work which is donenbsp;in the day is undone at night. At length Mitar, at the Pasha�s request,

' The text is publ. in H�rmann, Narodne Pjesme Muhamedovca u Bosni i Herce-govini (Sarajevo, 1888), which is not accessible to us. Gesemann (ib.') gives a number of interesting parallels.

345 appeals to the Vila. She will not come herself, but she advises him tonbsp;immure �Stoja and Ostoja�^ in the bridge. This is done�thoughnbsp;apparently no explanation or details are given�and the work is soonnbsp;completed. But now the river becomes turbid, and a fir dashes againstnbsp;the bridge and makes it shake. The architect calls out to the Pasha thatnbsp;he has made no present to the Drina, and bids him to scatter gold into itnbsp;with a silver shovel. In explanation of this the poem adds that he wantednbsp;to see whether the Pasha grudged the gold�though it may be doubtednbsp;whether this was the original point of the incident. When the Pasha hasnbsp;thrown a good deal of gold into the river, Mitar stops him, and chopsnbsp;the fir with an axe. Then blood spurts from the trunk, and a voice fromnbsp;it declares that the bridge over the Drina will now stand for ever.

This poem is of interest as illustrating the imaginative form which a historical event�of not too promising a character, one would think�nbsp;can assume in oral poetry. Mehmed Sokolovic was a famous man, tonbsp;whom we shall have to refer again later. The bridge still stands, andnbsp;bears a Turkish inscription, stating that it was built by him in the yearnbsp;1571. Nothing seems to be known of the architect, though his namenbsp;indicates that he was a Christian.

(3) Non-heroic stories relating to persons who do not belong to either of the classes noted above seem to be of more frequent occurrence.nbsp;As an example we may take a poem in Karadzic�s collection, ii. No. 20nbsp;(p. 93 ff.). The Serbian emperor Stjepan� keeps the feast of his patronnbsp;saint and invites a large number of ecclesiastics�three hundred priests,nbsp;twelve bishops and four great abbots. He gives his guests a mostnbsp;honourable welcome, waits upon them himself, and hands the wine-cupnbsp;to each in turn. But the ecclesiastics protest that he should not do so;nbsp;they beg him to sit down with them and let his men serve them. He givesnbsp;way to their entreaties. But the Archangel, who has been standing besidenbsp;him, caressing his cheek with his wing, while he served his guests, nownbsp;strikes his cheek and then takes his departure from the palace. He isnbsp;observed, however, only by one old monk, who tells the doorkeepersnbsp;what he has seen. They make it known to the emperor; and all joinnbsp;in beseeching the Archangel for forgiveness.

' These names are clearly to be connected with �Stoja and Stojan�, described as a sister and brother, in �The Walling of Skadar�. The Vila orders Vukasin to findnbsp;these persons and immure them in the foundations; but his messenger is unable tonbsp;discover them.

� We do not know whether Dusan is meant, or one of the earlier kings. Most of the medieval kings of Serbia were called Stjepan.

Another example is to be found in No. 21 {ib. p. 96 If.). A general (yojvoda) named Todor, who is imprisoned, apparently at Ragusa,�nbsp;begins to lament as the day of his patron saint, St George, approaches.nbsp;He begs Petar Mrkonjic, who has charge of the prison, to allow him tonbsp;go out to the market. There he sells some gilded silver knives, the onlynbsp;things of value that he has, and buys food and wine with the money.nbsp;Then he returns and gives a feast to his fellow-prisoners, and callsnbsp;upon St George to release him. At this point someone calls to Todornbsp;from outside the prison, telling him to come and speak to him. Henbsp;replies that he cannot, as the prison is locked; but the stranger says thatnbsp;the gates are open. Todor then comes out, and finds a finely accoutrednbsp;hero on horseback, who tells him to make his escape and advises him tonbsp;take to the mountains, avoiding the sea because of the Latin guards.nbsp;Todor turns to give the hero a drink of wine; but both horse and ridernbsp;are gone. Then he relates what has happened in the prison, and allnbsp;make their escape. When he arrives home his wife is celebrating the feastnbsp;with his friends and neighbours, and beseeching the saint for his safenbsp;return.

Some poems of this class relate to well-known heroes. For an example we may refer to �Uros and the Mrnjavcevici in which the leading character is Marko Kraljevic, and which has obvious affinitiesnbsp;with the stories just noticed. At the death of the emperor (Dusan) hisnbsp;young son Uros� claim to the throne is disputed by Vukasin and his twonbsp;brothers, Ugljesa and Gojko, each of whom desires it for himself. Thenbsp;four claimants with their followers meet beside the church of Samo-dreza on the plain of Kosovo; and Vukasin writes to the ecclesiasticnbsp;who gave the last sacrament to the emperor, summoning him to comenbsp;to them. But the ecclesiastic disclaims all knowledge of the emperor�snbsp;intentions, and refers the messengers to Marko Kraljevic, Vukasin�snbsp;son, who had been secretary to the emperor. Vukasin is confident thatnbsp;his son will decide in his favour; and when Marko shows from the booksnbsp;that Uros is the heir, he bursts into fury and attacks him with a dagger.nbsp;Three times he pursues his son round the church. Then a voice fromnbsp;the church calls to Marko to take refuge within. As the door closesnbsp;behind him, Vukasin strikes through it with his dagger, and the woodwork drips with blood. Vukasin thinks he has killed his son, and is

� The beginning of the poem speaks of the castle {grad} of Sokol, which is unknown to us. Neither do we know anything of the persons who figure in the poem.

� Karadzic, op. cit. II. 189 if. (No. 34). Transi, by Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevic, p. 13 ff.

347 seized with repentance; but a voice from within declares that it is notnbsp;Marko but an angel of God whom he has struck.

It will be seen that all these stories contain a didactic�or at least an �edifying��element. The two latter, however, seem to be intendednbsp;primarily for entertainment and may be regarded as examples of Type A.nbsp;The story of Stjepan and the Archangel (p. 345) obviously belongs tonbsp;Type C.

Stories of this class without ecclesiastical colouring are also probably to be found, though we cannot recall any very satisfactory examples.nbsp;The story of the building of the bridge at Visegrad, noticed under No. 2,nbsp;above, should perhaps rather be included here. We may mention alsonbsp;�The Walling of Skadar�.^ Vukasin and his brothers try to fortifynbsp;Skadar; but their work is destroyed each night by a Vila. After threenbsp;years the Vila calls out to them that the walls will never stand, unless theynbsp;immure a sister and brother, named Stoja and Stojan, in the foundations.nbsp;They seek for these persons, but are unable to find them. Then the Vilanbsp;calls out again that they must immure one of their wives, whichever ofnbsp;them comes out to bring the workers their dinner on the following day.nbsp;They agree to keep the matter a secret from their wives; but Vukasinnbsp;and Ugljesa break the covenant. Gojko behaves honourably, and hisnbsp;wife has to be immured. She suckles her child for a year through a holenbsp;in the wall; and milk still continues to trickle there.

This story seems to be derived from a variety of a widely distributed folktale. We may compare a Bulgarian poem� which is evidently anbsp;modified form of the same story. An architect, named Manoil, tries tonbsp;build a bridge; but it will not stand. He suggests to the workmen thatnbsp;they shall immure one of their wives in the foundations�the one whichnbsp;shall come to bring them their breakfast next day. It is his own wife whonbsp;comes ; and he will not keep to the bargain. In place of his wife henbsp;immures a reed. The wife goes home, and immediately falls ill and dies.nbsp;But her spirit haunts the bridge; and when her child cries her sisters-in-law take it there, and milk flows from the masonry to feed it.

Next we may take poems the affinities of which seem to lie with �post-heroic� poetry. In Vol. i. Ch. xiv, we saw that, apart from sur-

� Karadzic, n. No. 26. Transi, by Morison in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 40 ff.

� We know this poem only from the transi, by Eisner, Volkslieder der Slawen, p. 482 f. There is of course a secondary motive here, the attempt to get out of anbsp;bargain�originally, it would seem, to cheat some supernatural being of his due.

vivais of the heroic category, post-heroic poetry was usually concerned either with the personal experiences and feelings of the poet himselfnbsp;(Type E), or with the interests of the community to which he belonged.nbsp;For Type E we know of no recognisable illustrations in narodne pjesme^nbsp;though it is possible that some of the timeless nameless poems which wenbsp;shall have to notice in Ch. viii may be of such an origin. On the othernbsp;hand poetry of communal interest is well represented, at least in the oldernbsp;MS. collections; and it is to this that we must now turn our attention.nbsp;We have no doubt that such poetry is of similar origin to (Greek andnbsp;other) ancient poetry of communal (political) interest. But the relationship is largely obscured by the fact that what is preserved of the latter isnbsp;almost wholly poetry of exhortation or celebration (Type D), whereasnbsp;the Yugoslav poems belong almost without exception to Type A ornbsp;Type B. With the communal interest is often combined a major ornbsp;minor interest in individuals concerned in the events which arenbsp;described.

By far the most important material known to us comes from the coast region, Ragusa and southern Dalmatia.� The poems relating tonbsp;these districts are preserved, as we have seen, in MSS. of the eighteenthnbsp;century or earlier. It is of importance to observe that there arenbsp;apparently no heroic poems concerned primarily with persons who belong to these districts. This is all the more striking from the fact that thenbsp;earliest texts of heroic poems are preserved in MSS. (or printed works)nbsp;which come from the districts in question. Indeed heroic poems andnbsp;poems relating to the coastland are sometimes preserved in the samenbsp;MSS. Yet the heroic poems are concerned with the interior, while thenbsp;poems relating to the coastland are not heroic. It is in complete accordnbsp;with these facts that when heroic poems�in later texts�refer to Ragusa,nbsp;which is not unfrequently the case, they treat it as an alien, and indeednbsp;often as a hostile, place. The coastland lies clearly outside the area of thenbsp;Heroic Age, though it has preserved early texts of heroic poems whichnbsp;have drifted there. It may once have had a Heroic Age of its own; butnbsp;owing to the mixed character of the population this is a difficult question, into which we need not enter. The essential fact for our purpose isnbsp;that the poetry of the coastland which has been preserved is that of town

' It is to be borne in mind that in Ragusa and Dalmatia there was a flourishing written lyric poetry from the fifteenth century onwards.

� We mean especially the Bocche di Cattaro. We do not know what evidence is available for northern Dalmatia. Heroic conditions seem to have prevailed at onenbsp;time even in the maritime part of Croatia (cf. p. 326 f.).

349 communities. Owing to this fact its analogies are to be found in postheroic Greece, rather than in the other ancient literatures. Sometimesnbsp;the interest is centred more in individuals, sometimes more in the community; but even in the former case it is of a different kind from that ofnbsp;heroic poetry. Often it is of an unfriendly character.

(a) Poems relating to Ragusa differ a good deal from the rest�a fact which is due doubtless partly to the greater wealth and civilisationnbsp;of that city, and partly to its peculiar political position (cf. p. 302). Thesenbsp;poems are largely concerned with individuals; but it is not their heroicnbsp;or martial exploits which are celebrated. If the individuals are Ragusansnbsp;or friends of Ragusa, the poems usually serve as illustrations of theirnbsp;cleverness or astuteness; if they are aliens, they suffer for their stupidity.nbsp;Occasionally this tendency is carried so far that one might almost thinknbsp;the poet wanted to confirm a proverbial saying which occurs sometimesnbsp;in Serbian poems��the Latins are old hands in deception�. But thenbsp;motif of communal or patriotic interest is seldom, if ever, entirelynbsp;wanting. On the whole the poems have something in common with thenbsp;Greek sagas recorded by Herodotos of the tyrants and others who livednbsp;in the seventh and sixth centuries, when Greek post-heroic poetry wasnbsp;flourishing.

In one poem. No. 80 in Bogisic�s collection, the magnates of Ragusa hold debate, and appoint Jakob Maruskovic to be their envoy to thenbsp;Turkish court. On his arrival he makes his bow and offers tribute fromnbsp;the city. But the emperor says he wants no tribute, but the keys of thenbsp;city. He charges the Ragusans with increasing their fortifications, andnbsp;says he has heard that their territory possesses miany attractions, parkland and fountains, which would be convenient for his army. In replynbsp;Jakob pleads that the city has been obliged to increase its fortificationsnbsp;from fear of the Doge. He says that the emperor has been wrongly informed as to the attractions of Ragusa, which would be of no use for thenbsp;support of the emperor�s army. And he adds that the Ragusans wouldnbsp;never give up the keys of the city. If driven to desperation they wouldnbsp;rather transfer their allegiance to the king of Spain. On hearing thisnbsp;reply the emperor�s attitude becomes threatening; but Jakob has a goodnbsp;friend at the court, Sokolovic Pasha, who gives him a hint to ride off.nbsp;The Pasha now tells the emperor it is an unheard of thing that injurynbsp;should be done to a Ragusan envoy; and he says that news of his threatnbsp;will be published in all directions. The emperor replies that the Pasha isnbsp;to do what he thinks best, though he suggests that he has received a goodnbsp;bribe from the magnates of Ragusa. A party of Turks are now sent after

Jakob to bring him back and effect a reconciliation. But Jakob prefers to continue his journey home.

We may cite also another bugarstica in the same collection (No. 79). The emperor raises an army and sets off against Ragusa. Amongst othersnbsp;he summons a Pasha (unnamed) who asks him the reason for the expedition. The emperor in reply describes the attractions of Ragusa; butnbsp;the Pasha tells him that he has been misinformed. Then the emperornbsp;charges him with having received a bribe from the magnates of Ragusa;nbsp;but he denies the charge, and says that he has served in the city for ninenbsp;years, and consequently knows the place well. He persuades thenbsp;emperor to give up the expedition and to send him to Ragusa instead.nbsp;The magnates receive the Pasha with great honour and give him richnbsp;rewards for what he has done; and in return he makes peace for them atnbsp;Carigrad (Constantinople). Strictly this poem is �timeless-nameless�;nbsp;but it probably relates to the same persons who figure in No. 80, apartnbsp;from the envoy.

Next we may perhaps take a decasyllabic poem �ib. No. 119) of quite a different character. The chief figure is Herceg�^ Stjepan, ruler of Hercegovina�^which takes its name from him�about 1435-1466. The poemnbsp;opens in conventional heroic style at Stjepan�s castle at Blagaj, where anbsp;lady named Jelina�who must be Stjepan�s wife�is conversing with anbsp;swallow. She asks the bird if it has come from Carigrad and whethernbsp;it has seen her son Vladislav. It replies that it has seen Vladislav; but henbsp;is now called Mehmed Pasha. He has asked the Sultan for three hundrednbsp;Janissaries, and has promised to bring him the keys of Blagaj and allnbsp;Herceg�s riches. Then the Pasha himself appears and demands the keys;nbsp;but his mother tells him that Herceg has gone to Mostar and taken thenbsp;keys with him. The Pasha now returns to. Sarajevo to collect a force; butnbsp;Herceg packs up all his wealth and takes it in three caravans to Ragusa.nbsp;When he arrives at the gate, a clever nobleman tells him to write downnbsp;that he has not arrived or brought his property.� Herceg allows himselfnbsp;to be persuaded and goes away for a short time. On his return he asksnbsp;for his property; but the Ragusans refuse to give it up. They use it fornbsp;charitable purposes.3

� The poet seems to have in mind some kind of banking transaction, which he does not understand, but regards�and evidently admires�as clever cheating.

3 The facts seem to be that Herceg Stjepan deposited his money at Ragusa and that it was afterwards paid to his sons, in accordance with his will. One of his sons,nbsp;Vlatko (Ahmed) dishonestly obtained double payment. Cf. Villari, The Republic ofnbsp;Ragusa, pp. 252, 258. The poem seems to have confused two of the sons. According

Mention should perhaps be made here of a short poem of Type D (Bogisic, No. 81), in the form of an address to Ragusa. This poem isnbsp;believed to be of literary origin, though it is preserved in one of thenbsp;(Zagreb) MS. collections of narodne. pjesme. But it is of interest asnbsp;expressing the Ragusan ideal of peace, in contrast with the heroic andnbsp;military character of the neighbouring communities.

(J}) Among the towns under Venetian rule Perast offers by far the most interesting material. This is a place at the entrance to the Bay ofnbsp;Risan in the Bocche di Cattaro. So far as we know, it has never been anbsp;town of any great size or importance. But two of the houses possessnbsp;MS. collections of narodne pjesme�one (A) a collection of bugarsticenbsp;written about 1700,� the other (B) a collection of decasyllabic poemsnbsp;written more than half a century later. The latter are variants or adaptations of the former, the differences as a rule being very slight.� Thesenbsp;poems are wholly concerned with events of local history. They presentnbsp;a most interesting contrast to the poems relating to Ragusa; for they arenbsp;products of a much more backward community. There is no less localnbsp;patriotism than in the Ragusan poems; but the patriotism here is of thenbsp;militant kind. The poems indeed are full of fighting, though it is notnbsp;fighting of the heroic type. The exploits which they celebrate are thosenbsp;not of individuals, but of the fighting men of Perast collectively.

First we may take Bogisic, Nos. 59 (from A) and 60 (from B). A Spanish general named Don Karlo occupies Novi Grad^ and amongnbsp;other tyrannical doings mishandles two servant girls from Perast. Thenbsp;men of Perast, on hearing the news, hold debate, and send a spy to Novinbsp;Grad. A week later he returns and says that Don Karlo is going to setnbsp;out with his followers the next morning. During the night the men ofnbsp;Perast make their way over the strait, and lie in wait for Don Karlo nearnbsp;a spring. When the Spaniards arrive they open fire and then attack themnbsp;with their swords, killing forty-three of them. Don Karlo and his wifenbsp;are captured alive, and a savage vengeance is taken upon them. Thenbsp;poem ends with a remark that the warriors of Perast performed thisnbsp;to Orbini, Il Regno degli Slavi, pp. 273, 387, Helena (Jelina) was a granddaughternbsp;of Andrija, the brother of Marko Kraljevic. She was Stjepan�s second wife, but notnbsp;the mother of his sons.

� This MS. also contains a number of early decasyllabic poems, which have not been accessible to us.

� But it is clear from various passages that B is not derived from the written text of A; cf. p. 353, notes.

3 We are not clear whether this means the walled city now called Herceg Novi or Castelnuovo or a castle, now called Spagnuolo, upon the hill behind it.

exploit SO as to prevent any reproach against them; and several of the other poems likewise end with remarks looking to the future of thenbsp;town. In MS. A it is stated that the events took place in the year 1573.

The next poems, Nos. 61 (A) and 62 (B), are occupied with a rather sorry story of strife between the men of Perast and those of anothernbsp;maritime place or community called Pastrovici,which we cannot identify.nbsp;A man of Perast named Nikola, who is returning in a small craft fromnbsp;Albania, stops to visit a friend in Pastrovici. There he encounters a youngnbsp;lady who declares that on a previous visit he had promised to marry her.nbsp;An altercation arises in which he says that he would not marry her if shenbsp;brought him half Pastrovici as a dowry. Then she calls upon the men ofnbsp;the town to avenge her wrong, and they give chase to Nikola; butnbsp;he escapes in his boat. Not long afterwards she persuades a certainnbsp;Djuric Davidovic to go with a party of twelve armed men to Perast.nbsp;They find Nikola in front of the Church of St Nikola and shoot himnbsp;dead, and then run for the shore. But the bell rings, and the men ofnbsp;Perast assemble and give chase. They soon overtake and slay the raiders,nbsp;and they chop Djuric to pieces. The poem reflects on his want ofnbsp;forethought. No man of Perast, except Nikola, is mentioned by name.

The next two poems, Nos. 63 (A) and 64 (B), approximate more nearly to heroic poetry in theme; but the treatment is not heroic. Thenbsp;poems open with a reference to a Turkish victory over the Venetians atnbsp;Knin, in 1654. Then Mehmed Aga Rizvanagic of Risan begs Ali Pashanbsp;to lend him troops, so that he may raid Perast. He undertakes to getnbsp;seven hundred captives, and among them the three daughters of Triponbsp;Burovic. Neither the emperor nor the Doge has girls equal to these; ifnbsp;they can get them Ali Pasha will be promoted to be Grand Vizier andnbsp;Mehmed Aga to be Pasha of Bosnia. The Pasha agrees, and a Turkishnbsp;army arrives at Risan by night. In Risan the men of Perast have a spy,nbsp;who quickly makes the news known to Krilo Vickovic, the Kapetan ofnbsp;Perast; and by dawn the latter has all the towers manned by his men.nbsp;Mehmed Aga makes straight for Tripo�s house and, finding it deserted,nbsp;sets it on fire. But T ripo espies him in the garden from one of the towers,nbsp;and fires and wounds him. Then, as he is trying to avoid a further shot,nbsp;Tripo comes up and asks him why he has set his house on fire. Mehmednbsp;Aga surrenders at once and offers to give up his two sons, together withnbsp;a large amount of money. The two men are evidently friends, andnbsp;Tripo has no wish to cut off his head. But unfortunately a body of the

� It would seem to be somewhere on the coast between Bar (Antivari) and the Bocche.

353 defenders arrive at this moment and compel their leader, Krilo Kolovic,nbsp;to cut it off. In all they take seventy-four Turkish heads and sevennbsp;banners. The poems dwell with pride upon this achievement of the mennbsp;of old; for there were only forty-three of the men of Perast then at home,nbsp;the rest being away in Albania.�

The MSS. contain several other poems of the same type. The group as a whole is of outstanding interest as forming a body of poetry ofnbsp;purely local reference and belonging to a very small community. Thenbsp;events described extend over a period of well over a hundred years; andnbsp;the records are still�or were until recently�preserved only in the placenbsp;itself. The poets of Perast were of course familiar with the narodnenbsp;pjesme cultivated elsewhere in their times. That is obvious enough fromnbsp;the diction of the poems. We may also refer to the story of the dreamnbsp;with which No. 66^ opens�one of the most popular conventions ofnbsp;narodne pjesme. But the patriotic interest which dominates the poemsnbsp;is of the most strictly local character�concentrated wholly in thenbsp;�famous place on the edge of the sea�.

It would be of interest to know whether other maritime places possessed similar bodies of poetry peculiar to themselves. If so theynbsp;have perished; and it is likely enough they were never committed tonbsp;writing. We may, however, cite one (fragmentary) poem of localnbsp;interest, though it is of quite a different character�being concerned exclusively with the affairs of individuals. In Bogisic, No. 76, we hear thatnbsp;Ivan Voihnovic made a fine bet in Kotor (Cattaro) with the �providur�nbsp;of Kotor�. He undertakes to throw a club of a certain weight over anbsp;church which was a hundred feet high. The stakes are three hundrednbsp;gold ducats and half of the city. It is stated that Ivan has no relatives innbsp;Kotor; but he writes to his uncle Ivan Cmojevic in Montenegro�nbsp;presumably the man who figures in � The Marriage of Maxim Cmojevic�nbsp;(cf. p. 340), and who was ruler of Montenegro towards the close of thenbsp;fifteenth century. His uncle replies, telling him not to draw back andnbsp;wishing him good luck. Ivan succeeds in throwing the club over thenbsp;church; but unfortunately it comes down upon one of the nobilitynbsp;of the city on the far side of the church, and injures and blinds him.nbsp;For this he is arrested and imprisoned; and now he writes to his uncle,

� The statement relating to Albania occurs only in B (64. 108). It may be observed that the text of A (No. 63) is not well preserved in this poem. There is clearly an omission after line 98.

� This passage occurs only in B. A (No. 65) has an entirely different introduction.

3 This word seems to represent Provveditore, the title of the Venetian official (governor or agent) at Kotor.

saying that he has carried out his bet, but met with misfortune. At this �point unfortunately the text comes to an end.^

Lastly, we may notice a poem (No. 57), again of very different character, which likewise may come from the Bocche di Cattaro�ornbsp;possibly from Sibenik (Sebenico)�though it is preserved in the Franciscan MS. It is concerned with an event of European importance, thenbsp;battle of Lepanto, which took place in 1571; but the details are of annbsp;imaginative character, based perhaps to some extent on popular rumour.nbsp;The emperor (Sultan) writes to the Doge, bidding him lend him threenbsp;harbours�Sibenik, the Bocche di Cattaro, and Venice itself. The Dogenbsp;weakly consents, and then writes to a Venetian hero, named Kanaleti,nbsp;and tells him what he has promised. Kanaleti is overwhelmed with grief,nbsp;dresses himself and his galley completely in black and sets off to thenbsp;Doge. When the Doge enquires why he has done so, he replies by askingnbsp;what is now to become of the Doge�s fleet. Then he persuades the Dogenbsp;to write to the king of Spain, telling him that the emperor has seized hisnbsp;harbours and begging for his assistance. The king writes back to say thatnbsp;he cannot come over the blue sea himself, because he has had a darlingnbsp;child born; but he will send his brother Domdzovan.^ The Spanish andnbsp;Venetian fleets meet and encounter the (Turkish) fleet from Carigrad;nbsp;and Domdzovan captures two sons of Sokolovic Pasha. Their mothernbsp;writes to him and begs him to release them. She offers in ransom a spearnbsp;of pure gold, a countless amount of good money, and a fine big horsenbsp;which has no equal in all Turkey. The text breaks off as he begins tonbsp;write a reply to her letter. But it seems unlikely that anything more wasnbsp;said about the battle or its results. The poet is interested only in personalnbsp;details.

This is not the only example which the early MSS. preserve of poems concerned with distant wars. Other instances will be found in No. 58,nbsp;a bugarstica (from one of the Zagreb MSS.) on the relief of Vienna innbsp;1683, and in No. 113, a poem in irregular decasyllabic metre (from thenbsp;Franciscan MS.) on the fall of Candia in 1669. On the former subjectnbsp;also at least one poem has been taken down in recent times. It is clearnbsp;then that in the sixteenth and following centuries the inhabitants of thenbsp;coastal districts�not Ragusa only�were interested in foreign politics,nbsp;even if their interest tended to take a personal form. Such interest was

� A story closely related to this occurs in Karadzic, n. No. 37, which will require notice later.

� This name seems to have been acquired in Italian form�Dorn Giovanni, i.e. Don Juan of Austria, brother of Philip II.

355 doubtless stimulated by the employment of Yugoslav troops in thenbsp;Venetian and other forces. Even in Perast, where feeling seems to havenbsp;been parochial enough, evidence for such interest is not altogethernbsp;wanting. We may refer in particular to No. 65, which gives an accountnbsp;of the contingents sent by the various powers�the Pope, the Grandnbsp;Master of Malta and the Grand Duke of Tuscany�to the expeditionnbsp;against Novi Grad.

Apart from the early Dalmatian MS. collections noticed above we have no personal knowledge of narodne pjesme which are definitelynbsp;�post-heroic� in character. We are under the impression, however, thatnbsp;a good deal of poetry with such characteristics has been produced innbsp;the western districts of the interior�Bosnia, Hercegovina and Montenegro�during the last half century. Thus it is said� that the new poemsnbsp;current during the years before the War were concerned occasionallynbsp;with small affrays, but more often with weddings, courtships and lovenbsp;affairs of every kind, and also with punishments for poaching, withnbsp;elections, and with journeys of emigrants to America. Even appeals andnbsp;complaints to the authorities were treated in poetry at considerablenbsp;length. Not all these subjects of course are necessarily �post-heroic�;nbsp;but the inventory as a whole leaves no room for doubt. The Heroicnbsp;Age had come to an end; new themes for heroic poems were no longernbsp;available. But education had not yet advanced so far or become sonbsp;general that books and newspapers could take the place of that oralnbsp;poetry which had hitherto been the intellectual activity of the country.nbsp;This �post-heroic� poetry, as elsewhere, is to be regarded largely as thenbsp;journalism of a transitional age. We do not know whether any collectionnbsp;of such poems as those noted above has been published.

One would expect that poetry on somewhat similar lines may have been cultivated in Serbia in the course of last century ; but we do notnbsp;know whether there is any evidence to this effect. One interestingnbsp;incident, however, has been recorded.� In 1873-4, when the Parliamentnbsp;{Shupitina) was discussing the Budget and a bill for introducing a newnbsp;monetary system, the debates were reproduced by a peasant Deputy innbsp;poetry to audiences outside the building. If such poetry as we have beennbsp;discussing was current at the time it is hardly necessary to regard thisnbsp;performance as anything eccentric.

� Cf. Mijatovich, Kossovo, p. 40. The same author remarks (p. 38) that peasant Deputies not unfrequently speak in �blank verse� when their �feelings are rousednbsp;to an exalted pitch�. This book was published in 1881.

Although we have not seen any of the more recent poetry, the beginnings of the movement towards journalism may be seen clearly enough in some Montenegrin poems of the reign of Danilo (1851-1861)nbsp;�published in the fifth volume of Karadzic�s collection. Political eventsnbsp;and issues are frequently treated at considerable length, much as innbsp;newspaper reports and articles. It has already been remarked (p. 333)nbsp;that in many of these poems heroic interest is subordinated to communal or national interest, though not to the same extent as in thenbsp;Dalmatian MS. poems. And there are other features which the two groupsnbsp;of poems have in common. Turkish leaders are made to propoundnbsp;ambitious schemes of conquest�sometimes at great length. Muchnbsp;interest is also taken in foreign politics, though in both cases thesenbsp;assume a very personal form. For instances we may refer to Karadzic,nbsp;V. I (ad init.'), where the dying bishop expresses his views as to the relations of Montenegro with Austria and Turkey, and to ib. 3. 2205 ff.,nbsp;where in a letter to Danilo the Austrian emperor speaks of the troublesnbsp;by which he is beset in his own dominions. It is evident that even bynbsp;this time the Montenegrins, poor and illiterate as they were, already hadnbsp;an intelligent interest in international politics.� Yet, as we have seen, itnbsp;would hardly be true to say that the Heroic Age had come to an end.nbsp;The poetry is of a transitional character�from heroic to post-heroic,nbsp;though the former element is perhaps still dominant in the majority ofnbsp;the poems.

We do not know how far any similar transition can be traced in Mohammedan poetry. The question here seems to be more complex.nbsp;It is said that the Mohammedans are much devoted to poems relating tonbsp;the past, especially stories of the seventeenth century, and that theynbsp;care less for modem themes. But their old stories appear to be not sonbsp;uniformly heroic in character as those of the Christians. As an examplenbsp;we may take a poem on the war against Rakoczy in 1659-60.� The poemnbsp;is concerned primarily with the adventures of the Bosnian contingent,nbsp;which may be summarised briefly as follows : They set out from Sarajevonbsp;under an aged and wise leader named Dzanan. In order to cheer hisnbsp;men, as they are leaving home, Dzanan tells Ibro, his young standard-

� Cf. also Karadzic, v. No. 12. 78 ff., and No. 13. 79 ff., where the leaders of the attack upon Kola�in recognise quite clearly that the prince will not allow them tonbsp;undertake such enterprises, owing to pressure from the consuls of the four Powers.nbsp;In 12. 761 ff., after the town has been sacked, the Sultan writes letters of complaintnbsp;to the Russian emperor, the Caesar of Vienna, the French king and the queen ofnbsp;England.

357 bearer to sing a song. What he sings is virtually a last farewell, and hasnbsp;the effect of depressing the troops. Dzanan is very angry, strikes himnbsp;and takes the banner from him, and sends him home. Then he himselfnbsp;sings that they will gain greaty booty in the war, which will enable themnbsp;to rebuild their wretched ruined houses. When they are approachingnbsp;the Turkish camp, his men begin to shout and fire their muskets; butnbsp;he tells them, as soon as they enter, to look downwards and appearnbsp;thoroughly depressed. The Pashas and Viziers ask him why they arenbsp;acting like this; and he explains that they feel their extreme povertynbsp;when they are faced with so gorgeous an array. By this means henbsp;succeeds in obtaining a large sum of money for his men. Now �uprilic,nbsp;the commander-in-chief, asks for suggestions for a plan of campaign; andnbsp;Dzanan is the only one of his subordinates who can give any advice.nbsp;A general attack is to be made in three days. But in the meantime Dzanannbsp;and his men make a night attack independently, and completely rout thenbsp;Magyars, though their own numbers are reduced by half. In the morningnbsp;the Turks see that the Bosnians have left their positions; and one Pashanbsp;accuses them of desertion. But he is refuted by a Vila from a cloud; andnbsp;Cuprilic cuts off his head. Then the Turks advance, and find thatnbsp;Dzanan has won the battle and captured all the leaders of the enemy,nbsp;together with an immense amount of booty. As a reward for theirnbsp;achievement Dzanan demands charters of land-possession for all hisnbsp;men, both the survivors and those who have fallen, and for himself halfnbsp;of the imperial seal.

The scholar who obtained this poem found also an interesting variant of it from a distant part of the country.^ We may call the twonbsp;versions A and B. The following are among the chief variations in thenbsp;latter. The young standard-bearer, here called Ibro Fazlagic, is not sentnbsp;home after his unfortunate song; he is one of the most prominentnbsp;figures in the story. The Bosnians arrive in the Turkish camp not with anbsp;look of depression but in great disorder, raging desperately againstnbsp;one another and especially against Dzanan himself. This ruse, however,nbsp;serves the same purpose as the other; for Dzanan explains that they havenbsp;spent all their money, and thereby secures liberal supplies for them.nbsp;After the battle no Vila intervenes; �uprilic himself sees from the looknbsp;of the battlefield what has happened. When he overtakes the Bosnians,nbsp;Ibro Fazlagic, who has led the attack, is missing; and Dzanan is grieving

� Publ. with German transi, by Krauss, op. cit. p. 229 fF. This poem (B) came from near Brcka, in the extreme north-east of Bosnia, whereas A was obtained nearnbsp;Mostar and could be traced to Niksic.

for his loss. Soon afterwards, however, he appears, bringing Rakoczy and his wife with him as prisoners. Then the Sultan arrives, andnbsp;Dzanan is brought to him. Dzanan declares that the victory is due tonbsp;Fazlagic; and both of them are rewarded with high honours. It isnbsp;Fazlagic who asks for the granting of charters to the soldiers, both thenbsp;living and the dead.

The differences between the two versions are remarkable. B may be regarded as a heroic poem; for Ibro Fazlagic, who is prominent throughout, is a typical hero. But in A he disappears at once; and Hasan, whonbsp;takes his place, is mentioned only twice. The subject is martial in bothnbsp;poems alike. But the dominant feature of A is the sagacity of the oldnbsp;leader Dzanan and his care for his followers. We have not met with anynbsp;parallel to this before�at least not as the dominant or central feature ofnbsp;a poem�and we are inclined to suspect that in Yugoslavia it is specifically Mohammedan.^ It is not in accordance with heroic standards,nbsp;unless we are to use the term �heroic� in a wider or less definite sensenbsp;than we have done hitherto. Its affinities are rather with post-heroicnbsp;poetry. But we shall see later that such features are not necessarilynbsp;limited to times later than the Heroic Age;� and therefore we prefer thenbsp;term �non-heroic�.

One would like to know which of the two versions was more true to the form of the original poem. Krauss, who published both of them,nbsp;pointed out3 that Bosnian custom is represented in B more faithfullynbsp;than in A. Yet in regard to the differences noted above we are inclinednbsp;to think that a transformation of A to B is more easily intelligible thannbsp;the reverse change. However that may be, we must take note of thenbsp;interesting fact that one of two versions of a poem is largely�notnbsp;wholly�heroic; the interest is divided between a wise man and a hero.nbsp;In the other the heroic element is wanting; there is no hero, and thenbsp;interest is centred in the wise man. The contrast is striking enough tonbsp;suggest a considerable difference in intellectual outlook between thenbsp;circles in which the two versions assumed their present forms.

* If Despot Djuro�s policy was really guided by patriotic motives, as historians seem to think, the poems relating to him are instructive as showing how suchnbsp;policy can be interpreted in a heroic society.

� In the literature treated in Vol. i communal or national interest seems to occur only in post-heroic and antiquarian records. But we shall see later that this limitation does not hold good for all literatures. Sometimes we find an active oppositionnbsp;between heroic and non-heroic elements.

The characteristics of heroic poetry, as pointed out on p. 337 ff., hold good in the main also for the poetry treated in this chapter. Most of thenbsp;poems are narrative poems and intended�with certain exceptions�nbsp;primarily for entertainment. With regard to the limits of the Heroic Agenbsp;enough has been said above. Both series of poems are anonymous, andnbsp;their formal characteristics are in general similar, though non-heroicnbsp;poems are usually shorter and less detailed. The essential differencesnbsp;between heroic and non-heroic poetry will require notice in the nextnbsp;chapter.

IN Vol. I, Ch. IV, we discussed the milieu of heroic stories under the following headings: (i) the social standing of the personnel; (2) thenbsp;scenes of the stories; (3) the accessories of heroic life; (4) the socialnbsp;standards and conventions observed in heroic poetry and saga. We maynbsp;now examine briefly the Yugoslav evidence bearing upon the samenbsp;subjects.

(i) In regard to personnel a difference is clearly to be observed between the medieval and the modern stories. The personnel of thenbsp;former�i.e. of poems relating to the medieval period�is almost exclusively aristocratic.�- It includes kings and princes and their families,nbsp;nobles, who are sometimes intermarried with the princely families, andnbsp;the squires of princes and nobles ; but squires never play more than anbsp;subordinate part in a story. The leading characters are usually eithernbsp;members of princely families or persons closely connected by marriagenbsp;with such families�like Milos Kobilovic, who is said to be Prince Lazar�snbsp;son-in-law. The exceptions��Strahinja Banovic, Busic Stjepan, and onenbsp;or two of the Hungarian heroes�are neither numerous nor very important. The Jaksica are more important, if they are real exceptions; butnbsp;we do not know their family connections. They are rulers of Belgradenbsp;and intimate friends of Despot Vuk; but that is all we know of them.nbsp;Persons of lower rank than the squires of nobles seem not to be mentioned by name, except in poems relating to Marko Kraljevic, many ofnbsp;which are more akin to folk-tale than to heroic tradition.

In stories relating to the nineteenth century the case is different. The heroes of the Serbian wars of independence are said to have been

� In modern versions of the stories this fact tends to be obscured; the heroes are represented as living more or less like peasants�the only form of life known to thenbsp;minstrels. Often we hear of no court; sometimes there seem to be no servants. In thenbsp;poem on the birth of �Fiery Vuk� (cf. p. 322), the hero�s father, �Blind Grgur�,nbsp;apparently builds his own house. But he was really a prince, one of the sons ofnbsp;Despot Gjorgje who had been blinded by Sultan Murad II. The same features arenbsp;prominent in poems relating to Marko Kraljevic.

� If they are really exceptions. We do not know the origin of either Strahinja or Busic Stjepan. The wife of the former is a sister of Milica, the wife of Prince Lazar.

361 peasants, though some of them were probably as well off as any Christiansnbsp;could be in Serbia under Turkish rule. The leading Montenegrin heroesnbsp;were for the most part persons who bore the titles vojvoda, senator, ornbsp;serdard They appear to have been chiefs of districts; but we have nonbsp;precise information as to their position, e.g. as to whether it was in anynbsp;sense hereditary. We suspect that it is misleading to describe suchnbsp;persons as peasants�though they were doubtless very poor�and thenbsp;society in which they lived as democratic; but in practice there mustnbsp;have been a considerable difference between their position and that ofnbsp;the earlier heroes.

For the heroes of the intermediate period, the sixteenth and following centuries, we have much less information. Heroes such as Ivo of Senjnbsp;seem to act as if they were independent chiefs; and they can musternbsp;forces sufficient to take such strong fortresses as Jajce. Actually theynbsp;must have been Hungarian or Austrian subjects, presumably with somenbsp;recognised position; but the country was doubtless much disorganised.nbsp;The same remarks apply apparently to the Turkish age and opposednbsp;to them. Other heroes, however, whether bey. or hajduci would seem tonbsp;be adventurers, without any recognised authority. The beg Ljubovicnbsp;respects the orders of the Sultan, but defies all other authorities, whethernbsp;Turkish or Austrian. But the poems do not suggest a democraticnbsp;society.

The Dalmatian MS. poems give quite a different picture. The braca (�brotherhood�) of Perast debate and avenge their wrongs. There is anbsp;kapetan-, but he is seldom mentioned. When the luckless Mehmed Aga isnbsp;disabled and captured (cf. p. 352), he offers one third of his ransom tonbsp;the (�assembly�) of Perast. Here we do seem to have a democraticnbsp;society, though it consists of seafarers rather than peasants. And it isnbsp;likely enough that other maritime places had similar organisations,nbsp;though their poetry happens not to have been preserved. Ragusa ofnbsp;course stands quite apart from the rest, with a republican organisationnbsp;of a more advanced type. But we have seen that heroic poetry appearsnbsp;to be foreign to the whole of the coastland.

(2) As in the heroic stories treated in Vol. i, the scene is usually laid either in the house of a prince or noble or on the battlefield or other placenbsp;of adventure. In the former case the scene is as a rule a drinking-scene,nbsp;as in Vol. i. In modern Montenegrin poems heroes meet for drinking atnbsp;the tower of one of the chief men, or less frequently at a church; ladies

� Members of the princely family also figure prominently in some poems. It is to be remembered that the ruler was a bishop until 1851.

are never present. Occasionally in stories relating to early times one hears of heroes drinking in a tavern, as in the story of the death ofnbsp;Andrija, brother of Marko Kraljevic (cf. p. 311). But it may be doubtednbsp;whether this is in accordance with ancient heroic usage. A much oldernbsp;poem, as we have seen {ib.'), represents Andrija as slain by Marko himselfnbsp;on the hills.

When visitors are received by a prince, the poems seldom fail to notice the bows and formal greetings exchanged by host and guest.nbsp;Such receptions are hardly described as fully as in Greek and Englishnbsp;heroic poetry, except perhaps in connection with marriages and proposalsnbsp;of marriage. For an example of the latter we may refer to � The Sister ofnbsp;Leka Kapetan�, 216 ff.

(3) As regards the accessories of heroic life, drinking plays at least as prominent a part as in any of the ancient heroic literatures. Wine isnbsp;regularly the beverage. It is strange, however, that one seldom if evernbsp;hears of minstrelsy�or any other diversion�during the drinking. Yetnbsp;heroes sing on other occasions�during the march of a wedding procession� or of an army (cf. p. 356 f.), and even on the field of battle, as innbsp;Karadzic, v. 3. 1378 ff., where Savo Martinovic is said to be singing allnbsp;the time that he is firing. But all these cases seem to refer to poetry ofnbsp;Type D. Ibro Nukic sings to the tambura throughout his weddingnbsp;night; but this is for his own diversion (Type E). Yet historical records,nbsp;as we shall see, refer to the singing of heroic poems at banquets, even asnbsp;far back as the sixteenth century.

A hero�s most valued possession is his horse. Marko Kraljevid who is a great drinker shares his wine equally with Sarac. The horse is an invaluable ally to him and occasionally even speaks, as in �Marko andnbsp;Philip the Magyar�, 149 ff. The same is said of Momcilo�s winged horse,nbsp;in �The Marriage of King Vukasin�, 201 ff. Strahinja Banovic is assistednbsp;by both his horse and his dog in his fight with Vlah Alija. For the closenbsp;relations between a hero and his horse we may refer also to � The Deathnbsp;of the Mother of the Jugovici�,� 40 ff., where Damjan�s horse cries, notnbsp;from hunger or thirst, but because it misses its master.3 In the poem onnbsp;the battle of Lepanto (cf. p. 354) the poet no doubt shows a knowledgenbsp;of heroic custom when he makes the wife of Sokolovic Pasha offer anbsp;horse and golden spear in ransom for her sons.

Weapons also are greatly prized, though references to them are hardly so frequent as in ancient heroic literatures. The value attached to

� Cf. Karadzic, v. 968 ff. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Karadzic, n. No. 48.

3 Ibro Nukic�s horse cries and refuses to eat when its master is going into danger.

363 a sword, sentimental as well as actual, in early times may be illustratednbsp;by the two poems called �Marko Kraljevic recognises his Father�snbsp;Sword�. We may refer also to the list of treasures in �The Marriage ofnbsp;King Vukasin�, 270 if., which the faithless wife of Momcilo brings to hisnbsp;slayer, and which include helmet, sword and mail-coat. Again, in � Thenbsp;Marriage of Maxim Crnojevic�,' 764 if., the gifts presented by the bride�snbsp;relatives include a golden sword, a jewelled head-dress {kalpak^ and anbsp;golden robe, together with a horse and a falcon. Gorgeous robes andnbsp;head-dresses are mentioned elsewhere also, much more frequently thannbsp;in the ancient heroic literatures. But in poems relating to modern timesnbsp;such splendour is seldom if ever thought of. Mohammedan heroes ofnbsp;the seventeenth century win swords of honour (cf. p. 329), as prizes fornbsp;exceptional valour. But in the middle of the nineteenth century thenbsp;prize given to the priest Luka, the leader of the successful force in � Thenbsp;Death of Djulek� (cf. p. 333 f.), is merely a good d{everdan�a musketnbsp;of some kind.

(4) Social standards or indeed moral judgments of any kind are rarely expressed in heroic poetry, though they occur in the (post-heroic)nbsp;Perast poems, as well as in other non-heroic poetry. There can be nonbsp;doubt, however, that courage and loyalty are the qualities most prizednbsp;in the heroic character.

Obscenity seems to be entirely wanting in heroic poetry. In this respect Yugoslav heroic convention falls in no way short of the Greeknbsp;and English heroic standards; indeed we have never met with anynbsp;passage which could offend the most fastidious taste. On the other handnbsp;the Perast poems, though they are moral enough, do not shrink fromnbsp;unpleasant details.

In other respects, however, and especially in regard to temper the behaviour of both heroes and ladies is open to criticism. Milica�snbsp;daughters have an unseemly quarrel (cf. p. 315), which is subsequentlynbsp;taken up by their husbands, with disastrous consequences. Jerinanbsp;knocks her grandson Maxim down (cf. p. 320 f.), and in another poemnbsp;she is herself knocked down by Radosav (cf. p. 321); but she is annbsp;exceptionally unpopular character. On most of these occasions teethnbsp;are scattered. Marko Kraljevic is a heavy drinker; and it would seemnbsp;that Serbian heroes in general were credited by the Latins with the samenbsp;propensity. At all events the prospect of their presence at weddings isnbsp;regarded with some apprehension�as may be seen (e.g.) from �Thenbsp;Marriage of Djuro of Smeredevo� (cf. p. 317), 12 if., where the king

of Ragusa begs the bridegroom to invite Greeks and Bulgarians, not Serbians, as his guests, �for Serbians are heavy drinkers and fiercenbsp;brawlers The same description is applied to the king�s nephews in � Thenbsp;Marriage of Dusan�,� 44 f. In �The Marriage of the King of Budim�nbsp;(cf. p. 318) one of the two principal guests pays off an old grudgenbsp;against the other with the bridegroom�s connivance, and when they arenbsp;both apparently sober.

The worst feature, however, in the earlier heroes is their brutality towards women. Marko Kraljevic is the worst offender of all, especiallynbsp;in �The Sister of Leka Kapetan�. But other heroes, e.g. Milos in �Thenbsp;Marriage of Dusan�, 575 ff., at least threaten to cut off girls� arms. Andnbsp;Ivo of Senj beats the Turkish ladies without mercy. It should be observed that in regard to barbarities of this kind there is sometimes anbsp;striking difference between the old bugarStice and the later poems collected by Karadzic. Thus in the story of Strahinja Banovic, when thenbsp;hero brings his faithless wife back to her home, in the bugarhicanbsp;(Bogisic, No. 40) her brothers at once dispatch her with their swords;nbsp;in Karadzic�s poem (ii. No. 44, ad fin.} they are dissuaded from doingnbsp;so by the hero himself. Again, in the story in which the Jaksica test thenbsp;generosity of their wives, the wife who fails in the test in the bugar-stica (Bogisic, No. 41) has her head cut off on the spot by her husband;nbsp;in Karadzic�s poem (11. No. too) the husband tries to throttle her, but isnbsp;stopped by his brother. It would seem then that the ferocity of earlynbsp;times was not always approved of by later poets or their audiences.

On the other hand it may be remarked that women sometimes wield great influence. This is especially noteworthy in the case of Jerina, thenbsp;wife of Despot Djuro. Maxim Cmojevic�s bride has no difficulty innbsp;bringing about a deadly struggle between her bridegroom and the mannbsp;he has allowed to personate him. Mention may also be made here of thenbsp;stories�^which are not uncommon (cf. p. 328)�in which a girl herselfnbsp;takes arms and acts as a hero. In heroic bugarhice the interest is verynbsp;often centred in women.

Taking the evidence as a whole, it is clear that the Yugoslav heroic milieu in early times�down to c. 1500�differed little from what wenbsp;found in the ancient heroic literatures. It is essentially an aristocraticnbsp;milieu; the interest is concentrated in princes and their noble followers,nbsp;and the appurtenances of aristocratic life. From the sixteenth centurynbsp;onwards, when Yugoslav princes no longer existed, the interest is centrednbsp;in local chiefs, who carried on heroic warfare on their own account, andnbsp;quot; Karadzic, ii. No. 29.

365 even in outlaws (uskoci). In the nineteenth century it is centred in thenbsp;Serbian leaders of the wars of independence and in Montenegrin localnbsp;chiefs. In these later periods the milieu is not aristocratic�at least notnbsp;in the sense in which we apply that term to the early period; but neithernbsp;can it properly be called democratic. A truly democratic milieu seemsnbsp;to be found in the (non-heroic) poetry of Perast, dating from the sixteenth and following centuries.

The subject of individualism was treated in Vol. i, Ch. v, in connection with (i) nationality, (ii) heroic warfare. We came to the conclusion that the prominence of the individual appears to be an essential characteristic of heroic stories and of the Heroic Age itself.

(i) In Vol. I we saw that ancient heroic poetry and saga in general yielded little evidence for any feeling of nationality, apart from the factnbsp;that the poets� world is divided into two hostile camps both in the Iliadnbsp;and in Welsh poetry. In the narodne pjesme we find a similar and permanent division prevailing throughout between the Christian worldnbsp;and the Turkish world. The religious aspect of the division is not verynbsp;often expressed; but it is quite exceptional to find Christian and Turkishnbsp;heroes acting together in perfect accord, as in the story of the begnbsp;Ljubovic (cf. p. 329 f.). Marko Kraljevic is loyal to the Turkish emperor;nbsp;but his relations with other Turks are often unfriendly.

This distinction is more religious�or rather �politico-religious�� than national in the strict sense. Most of the �Turks� mentioned in thenbsp;poems are Mohammedan Yugoslavs. But Mohammedan poems do notnbsp;in general distinguish between Mohammedan Yugoslavs and truenbsp;Turks or Albanians. And, similarly, Christian poems do not in generalnbsp;distinguish between Christian Yugoslavs and Christians of othernbsp;nationalities. Some of the leading heroes are Hungarians. It is true thatnbsp;�Latins� are sometimes regarded with suspicion; but this term includesnbsp;Dalmatian and Ragusan Yugoslavs, as well as Venetians, and wouldnbsp;seem to be religious or poUtical rather than national.

What we have been speaking of is the consciousness of a barrier rather than the definite assertion of nationality. In regard to the latter

� The line of division is not rigidly according to religion. In early times we find Marko Kraljevic on the Turkish side. In the nineteenth century the poems oftennbsp;mention among the Turkish leaders a Marko Kapetane, who was presumably anbsp;Christian�perhaps an Albanian. Smail Aga has a friend called Djoko Malovic, asnbsp;well as a groom called Martin. In several early stories Christian and Turkish heroesnbsp;are friends, though the latter are said to act treacherously.

great differences are to be found between the different periods and groups of poetry. In poems of the nineteenth century it is frequentlynbsp;expressed. Montenegrins speak of themselves sometimes as Crnogorcinbsp;(Montenegrins), sometimes as Srbi (Serbs); and, in spite of the persistence of the heroic element, patriotism flourishes, both in the narrowernbsp;and the wider sense of the term�as applying to all Christian Yugoslavs.nbsp;The most pronounced illustration is � The Lament of the Dragon on thenbsp;Lovcen� (cf. p. 334 f.).

In poems relating to the early period there is by no means the same uniformity. The Cycle of Marko Kraljevic naturally gives little scope fornbsp;the expression of nationality; for it is generally recognised in the poemsnbsp;that Marko was a Turkish vassal. The conception of him as a patrioticnbsp;hero would seem to be modern and due to his popularity. But thenbsp;question is how an unpatriotic character�one who was liable to benbsp;called a �Turkish minion� {pridvorica)�could attain such popularity.

The Kosovo Cycle on the other hand has usually been regarded as essentially national and patriotic. Yet this description is only true in part.nbsp;The passages which show national or patriotic feeling in the strict sensenbsp;are few in number. The most important of them is the solemn imprecation in �Music Stefan�,� 21 ff., 76 ff., pronounced by Lazar upon himnbsp;�who is a Serbian and of Serbian stock, of Serbian flesh and blood, andnbsp;comes not to battle at Kosovo �. The curse of barrenness is invokednbsp;both upon him and upon his land. Far more numerous are the passagesnbsp;which attribute a religious significance to the struggle. We may quote anbsp;fragmentary poem,� which we believe to be very old in substance (cf.nbsp;p. 315). Milos, replying to the charge of disloyalty brought against himnbsp;by Lazar, solemnly denies the charge and adds: �Tomorrow I intend tonbsp;die for the Christian faith at Kosovo �.

But in the old MS. poems preserved at Ragusa the heroes are not said to be animated by feelings of either patriotism or religion. Here thenbsp;guiding principle is personal loyalty of the true heroic type. In Bogisic,nbsp;I. 31 f., 43 f., which correspond to the first of the passages cited above,nbsp;there is no reference to any curse or declaration by Lazar. Busicnbsp;Stjepan (i.e. Music Stefan) merely states that he will not desert the armynbsp;of Prince Lazar, the Hungarian lords and the brothers Ugovici. Again,nbsp;later in the same poem, when Milos has been charged by Lazar with

� Karadzic, ii. No. 47 (p. 298 ff.); transi, by Morison in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 58 ff.

Karadzic, ii. No. 50. iii (p. 310 ff.); transi, by Seton-Watson in Subotic, op. cit. p. 65 f.

367 disloyalty, he declares (139 If.) that he will not betray him at Kosovo.nbsp;He vows in the presence of all the lords to make his way to the Turkishnbsp;camp before sunrise on the morrow and to slay the emperor there. Butnbsp;he says nothing about dying for the Christian faith. The motives statednbsp;or implied in this poem�as also in the other early MS. poems relatingnbsp;to Kosovo�are always of a personal character. Vuk Brankovic�snbsp;treachery or desertion arises out of his refusal to help Milos, against whomnbsp;he bears a bitter animosity owing to the loss of his teeth (cf. p. 315 f.).nbsp;Further, it may be observed that the name � Serbian� does not occur innbsp;these poems.^ The only national names found are the �Turks� and thenbsp;�Hungarian lords� (JJgaTskagospoda). It has been suggested that by thenbsp;latter term�^which occurs several times�we are to understand Hungarian allies of Lazar. But the suggestion has not been generally accepted ;nbsp;for it is obviously unlikely that such allies^ would be the only personsnbsp;mentioned, apart from the prince and his brothers-in-law. There can benbsp;little doubt that the poem reflects the political conditions of the fifteenthnbsp;century, especially the latter part of it, when the unconquered Yugoslavs carried on the struggle against the Turks under Hungarian leadership. But if so, we must infer that no great importance was attached tonbsp;nationality in these times.

This inference is fully borne out by the large number of poems in the MS. collections which are concerned with Hungarian kings and heroes.nbsp;It is obvious that the poets and their audiences were much interested innbsp;these persons; and there is no indication that they regarded them asnbsp;aliens, in spite of such expressions as Ugrin Janko (�Hungarian John�).nbsp;One poem (cf. p. 317) indeed makes Janko (John Hunyadi) to be a sonnbsp;of Stjepan, son of Lazar. But even here the name �Serbian� does notnbsp;occur, while the scene is laid at Sibinj (Sibiu or Hermannstadt), whichnbsp;was never a Yugoslav town. The poets� intention was presumably tonbsp;claim for Janko not Serbian nationality so much as a distinguishednbsp;ancestry with which they were themselves familiar. There is no evidence

� It does seem to occur, however�in the form sarsku (for Srpsku)�in a hugar-Stica from a Ragusa MS. publ. by Novakovic, Arch.f. slav. Philol. in. 648 if. Here it is applied apparently to the Hungarian nobles.

� Lazar had allies from various quarters; but we are not aware that there were Hungarians among them. It may be observed that in Bogisic, i. 106 if., Lazar saysnbsp;the Ugovici have vowed to the Hungarian king (kralju Ugarskormi) that if the skynbsp;shall fall to the earth they will catch it on their spears. It is not clear to us whethernbsp;he means himself; elsewhere in these poems he is called kne.^, not kralj. The passagenbsp;may have suifered in the course of oral tradition; but we think it is to be taken innbsp;connection with political conditions of cent. xv.

that they had any knowledge of Hungarian history before Janko�s time �a fact which is the more noteworthy because the coastal districts,nbsp;from which the MSS. come, had been partly under Hungarian protectionnbsp;down to 1420. But it is only after this date that the interest in Hungariannbsp;heroes begins.

In these MS. poems the attitude towards the Hungarian heroes is regularly sympathetic. Even when Janko is in conflict with the Serbiannbsp;ruler Despot Djuro, the poems always take the side of the former.nbsp;Moreover this attitude is not peculiar to them. There are a number ofnbsp;Serbian poems collected in later times and included in Karadzic�s collection which also deal with Hungarian heroes; and here too the attitude isnbsp;usually, though not always, sympathetic. We may refer in particular tonbsp;Karadzic, 11.No.86, noticed on p.3i8f.,which is entirely sympathetic tonbsp;Sekula and makes the Despot responsible for his death. The only poemnbsp;we have noticed which takes the opposite view, i.e. friendly to the Despot and hostile to Janko, is No. 81, �The Death of the Vojvoda Kaica�;nbsp;and it can hardly be due to accident that this poem speaks throughout ofnbsp;the Magyars. In the other poems Janko and his men rarely if ever havenbsp;any national name applied to them.

Lastly, it may be mentioned that we have not observed any traces of national feeling in the Cycle of poems dealing with the Jaksica and Vuknbsp;the Fiery Dragon, though references to personal relations between thesenbsp;heroes and a king of Budim (Hungary) are not rare. More than one ofnbsp;these poems, however, shows a strong religious interest.

From what has been said it will be seen that throughout the early period interest in nationality must be regarded as exceptional. Thenbsp;modern collections contain a few striking examples, especially in � Musicnbsp;Stefan� and �The Death of Kaica�; but even here it is not widespread.nbsp;In the old MS. collections it seems to be entirely wanting. If we take intonbsp;account, further, that the MS. poems regularly, and the modern poemsnbsp;sometimes, sympathise with Hungarian heroes against the native Djuro,nbsp;and that the most popular of all the early heroes, Marko Kraljevic, is anbsp;loyal vassal of the Sultan�it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that thenbsp;early poets and their audiences were not interested in nationality, andnbsp;that where this element occurs in the poems it has been introduced innbsp;later times.

The religious interest is of somewhat more frequent occurrence and may be older. Indeed to some extent it may have been attached to thenbsp;Kosovo Cycle from the beginning. But the evidence does not suggestnbsp;that this was what primarily interested the early poets. If we take the

THE HEROIC MILIEU nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;369

bugarhice and the later poems together it would seem that the primary motives were of a purely personal nature�the disastrous quarrel between Lazar�s sons-in-law and the fate of Milica�s brothers. The quarrelnbsp;between the wives was doubtless invented to explain the former motif.nbsp;And likewise in the rest of the stories which relate to the early period wenbsp;see no reason for doubting that interest in the heroes as individuals wasnbsp;the dominant element from the beginning, just as in the heroic poetrynbsp;and saga discussed in Vol. i.

We regret that our knowledge of the large body of heroic poetry relating to the period c. 1500-1800 is not sufficient to allow us to speaknbsp;of it with any confidence; but we are under the impression that thenbsp;same remark is true here also in general. There are indeed a number ofnbsp;Mohammedan poems (cf. p. 356 ff.) of which it is clearly not true; butnbsp;we do not think that these are properly to be regarded as heroic. Innbsp;Christian poems the religious element seems to be more important thannbsp;in the earUer period; and the same may probably be said of the nationalnbsp;(patriotic) element. We suspect, however, that the importance of thenbsp;latter dates from towards the close of the period.�

Finally, it is to be borne in mind that from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries we have a good deal of poetry, preserved in MSS., which is dominated by patriotism of the narrowest kind, and in whichnbsp;little importance is attached to the individual. Especially instructive arenbsp;the poems from Perast, �the famous little place on the edge of thenbsp;sea�. We regard these poems as essentially non-heroic (post-heroic). Wenbsp;think also that the Mohammedan (Bosnian) poems alluded to above arenbsp;best referred to the same category.

(ii) Heroic warfare among the Yugoslavs seems on the whole to be much the same as elsewhere. Attention is usually concentrated upon thenbsp;courage and strength of individual heroes. In poems relating to thenbsp;early period, battle scenes are not of very frequent occurrence. Muchnbsp;more often the subject is an exploit carried out by a hero alone or withnbsp;one or two companions. Thus Milos Obilic is accompanied by two companions, Milan Toplica and Ivan Kosancic, who seem originally to havenbsp;been his squires.� Marko Kraljevic is most often alone. Sometimes,

� It is probably to be connected with the growth of national feeling in cent, xviii, especially among the Serbians north of the Danube and the Sava. This in itself maynbsp;have been largely due to a similar movement among the Magyars, while the latternbsp;again seems to have been religious in origin. These, however, are historical questions,nbsp;into which we need not enter.

Cf. Bogisic, I. 146, where Milos� squires (^slug�) bear similar, though not identical, names.

370 however, he is accompanied by one or two famous heroes, includingnbsp;even Janko, who belonged to a later generation. No historical value ofnbsp;course can be attached to such associations. Vuk the Fiery Dragon isnbsp;usually unaccompanied. But in one of the poems on his marriage (cf.nbsp;p. 323) there is a battle on a large scale; and it is of interest to see hownbsp;the issue depends wholly on the prowess of the two principals. The restnbsp;of the combatants count for nothing.

In modem Montenegrin poems long passages are often devoted to descriptions of the gallantry of individual heroes, who charge thenbsp;enemy sword in hand, in spite of the general use of firearms. Sometimesnbsp;the poet will describe the gallantry of two or three heroes in succession,nbsp;very much as in the battle-scenes in the Iliad', and the presence of theirnbsp;followers is ignored, just as in the latter. A typical scene of this kindnbsp;will be found in Karadzic, v. No. 12 (499 ff.), one of the poems on thenbsp;Sack of Kolasin, in 1858. Shorter passages of similar character fromnbsp;other poems were noticed on p. 334.

Vows and boasting before an action occur just as in the heroic poetry and saga of other peoples. We have already (p. 367) referred to thenbsp;rhetorical vow of the Jugovici and to the vow of Milos Kobilovic, whichnbsp;he actually carried out. In modern poems challenges are frequentlynbsp;offered in the course of a battle ; instances will be found on p. 3 3 3 f. Suchnbsp;challenges seem as a rule to be ignored, probably owing to the use ofnbsp;firearms; but they are doubtless in accordance with traditional usage.nbsp;Heroes are also said to boast of their own achievements in the past,nbsp;especially when wine is beginning to take effect upon them; cf. Karadzic,nbsp;v. 13. 12, 116 ff.

In view of the characteristics noted above it is not surprising that, as in the heroic stories of other lands, wars and raids are often said to benbsp;due to personal motives. In Karadzic, v. 13, it is the Vojvoda Milan whonbsp;is responsible for bringing about the attack upon Kolasin, and his chiefnbsp;motive is to avenge his brother. In iv. 58. 62 ff., 95 ff., Bishop Peter IInbsp;is represented as encouraging Cerovic Novica to attack Cengijc Smailnbsp;Aga owing to his own desire to obtain vengeance for his nephews. Itnbsp;may perhaps be questioned � whether the bishop, who was a very culturednbsp;man, was really animated by such a feeling; but there can hardly be anynbsp;doubt that the poem truly represents how both Turks and Montenegrinsnbsp;expected him to feel.

' In the poem itself (cf. No. 57.61 ff.) the statement is represented as coming from a man in the Turkish service; but Karadzic (iv, p.459) seems to have believed it to benbsp;true. The poem was supplied to him by a high official in Prince Danilo�s household.

More frequently perhaps the incentive comes from the hope of booty and of glory. When the priest Luka summons his friends for the attacknbsp;upon Djulek (cf. p. 333), he says there is plenty of treasure and glory tonbsp;be obtained. Actually the booty seems to consist of horses and firearms. At the sack of Kolasin an enormous amount of livestock is saidnbsp;to have been captured; cf. Karadzic, v. 12. 608 ff. In an earlier attacknbsp;upon the same place the men who send out the summons say (ib. iv.nbsp;53. 8 if.) they have marked a fine spoil�which eventually they succeed in securing {ib. 618 ff.). The plundering of the sheepfolds is anbsp;great object of desire. A raid of this kind, on a big scale, forms thenbsp;subject of IV. 54. It is arranged to take place during a Mohammedannbsp;festival.

But the desire for glory was greater even than that for booty. In Yugoslavia, as in ancient Ireland, this took the form of head-hunting.nbsp;The practice is found in poems relating to the earliest times, e.g. � Thenbsp;Marriage of Dusan� and �Marko Kraljevic and Philip the Magyar�, andnbsp;it continued in full use down to the latter part of the nineteenth centurynbsp;in the border warfare between the Montenegrins and the Turks ofnbsp;Hercegovina. We have already seen (p. 333) how one hero after anothernbsp;falls in the attempt to get the head of Djulek�3. scene which may benbsp;compared with a passage in the Iliad, where the Trojans and Achaeansnbsp;fight for the body of Patroclos. Head-hunting itself, however, is foreignnbsp;to the Iliad, whereas to the Montenegrins the heads were the symbolsnbsp;and proofs of their prowess. We may refer to a passage in Karadzic,nbsp;v. 3 (1673 ff.), where it is stated that�in the course of the battle againstnbsp;Omer Pasha�every hero gains glory. One gets one head, another twonbsp;heads; but the standard-bearer Djuro Martino vic brings four heads.nbsp;The Serdar�s heart is rejoiced; and Petrovic (Mirko) roars with laughter,nbsp;as they bring the heads to him; and he embraces and kisses each of thenbsp;warriors. Again, at the end of one of the poems on �The Death ofnbsp;Cengijc Smail Aga� {il. iv. 58. 514 ff.) we hear that the Serbians returnnbsp;singing and firing their guns. They bring the heads of Smail Aga andnbsp;the Begs with them to the king of Cetinje (Bishop Peter II). The kingnbsp;receives them graciously and presents a gold medal to Cerovic Novicanbsp;�whom he promotes�a silver medal to Mirko, and other suitable rewards to the rest of the warriors. Similar passages occur elsewhere;nbsp;indeed decapitation is the conclusion of practically every exploit.

In connection with these passages it may be of interest to quote here an extract from the diary of Sir J. Gardiner Wilkinson, the famousnbsp;Egyptologist, who visited Bishop Peter II shortly before the death of

Smail Aga. The passage is dated 17 June, 1839:�� The same day after dinner the Vladika (bishop) ordered that every one should bring hisnbsp;heads to the plain of Cettigne, and forming a great circle Monsignorenbsp;placed himself in the midst with the President and all the Senate; callednbsp;out the warriors one by one; and embracing each hung round his necknbsp;a silver medal by a red cord.�

It was the custom at Cetinje to impale the heads on stakes and set them up on a round tower behind the monastery. Many of them werenbsp;seen there by Wilkinson, while others lay on the ground below. Atnbsp;Mostar, where a similar practice was observed, the stakes were fixed onnbsp;the walls. It is said that in the days of Ali Pasha Rizvanbegovic, Peter IPsnbsp;contemporary, there were always a hundred and fifty heads to be seennbsp;there. Most of these had been cut off the Pasha�s Christian subjects.

In Montenegro the Heroic Age can be studied at closer quarters than in any other of the literatures we have examined as yet; but it is not anbsp;typical specimen. The absence of an aristocracy possessing any kind ofnbsp;wealth and the strength of the feeling for nationality are abnormalnbsp;features. The first was due to the poverty of the country, the second tonbsp;the fact that it was almost surrounded by an enemy of infinitely greaternbsp;resources. To the same causes we must attribute the almost exclusivenbsp;preoccupation with warfare shown in the poems. The heroes seem tonbsp;have no other interest.

The survival of the Heroic Age down to so late a time was due doubtless in part to the constant insecurity of the frontier. But therenbsp;was another cause, no less important, namely the fact that the countrynbsp;was cut off from communication with the civilised world, except bynbsp;one mountain road. On the shores of the Bocche, only a few milesnbsp;away, there were communities whose civilisation three centuriesnbsp;previously was comparable with that of the Viking Age, and far innbsp;advance of the Montenegrin. A little further along the coast there werenbsp;cities which had shared the full civilisation of the Renaissance. It wouldnbsp;be difficult anywhere else to find so great diversity in so limited an areanbsp;�at least without linguistic barriers.

In the early part of the Heroic Age�down to c. 1500�the stories relate to a much wider and richer area. Here the conditions seem innbsp;general to be very similar to those we observed in Vol. i. The milieu isnbsp;aristocratic, and interest in the individual is paramount. The stories arenbsp;by no means exclusively concerned with fighting; and women frequentlynbsp;� J. Gardiner Wilkinson, Dalmatia and Montenegro (1848), p. 495.

373 play a prominent part in them. Indeed it can hardly be said that thenbsp;position of women�especially the queens, such as Milica and Jerina�nbsp;compares unfavourably with what we find in heroic stories elsewhere.nbsp;There are some crude and brutal features, such as head-hunting andnbsp;atrocities committed against women. In the latter respect indeed thenbsp;early period is much worse than the nineteenth century � Montenegrinnbsp;usage shows a great improvement (cf. p. 334), while later versions of thenbsp;early stories often eliminate the atrocities (cf. p. 364). But these brutalities and atrocities are found also in the Heroic Ages of other lands.nbsp;Head-hunting is a regular practice in Irish sagas ; and the worst atrocitynbsp;of all�tearing women to pieces by tying them to the tails of horses, asnbsp;in �The Marriage of King Vukasin��is found also among the Teutonicnbsp;peoples, both in heroic stories and in historical records.� All that cannbsp;fairly be said against the Yugoslavs is that, owing to their geographicalnbsp;situation, their civilisation in the early part of the Heroic Age was somenbsp;centuries behind that of western Europe. The Turkish conquestnbsp;delayed progress for several centuries more.

* It is incorrect therefore to attribute these atrocities to Turkish influence, though Turks also doubtless perpetrated them. Such atrocities were usually due to passionnbsp;or resentment for insult, whereas typical Turkish atrocities were more deliberatenbsp;and on a larger scale. It is as well to remember that for the latter type some of thenbsp;western nations have an ugly record for the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.nbsp;But the Turks kept up these practices much longer.

� We may refer to the story of Eormenric and also to the death of the Frankish queen Brunihildis in 613. Cf. also Gregory of Tours, Hist. Franc, iii. 7.

IT is unnecessary to demonstrate the existence of historical elements in Yugoslav heroic or non-heroic poetry. There can be no questionnbsp;that the events related in the modern poems are in general historical,nbsp;at least in their main outlines. It is clear too from evidence which isnbsp;beyond suspicion that very many of the persons and events recordednbsp;in stories of earlier periods are likewise historical. We may thereforenbsp;confine our attention to unhistorical elements.

We must confess at once that we have not the requisite knowledge for a detailed study of this subject; nor are the records necessary for suchnbsp;a study accessible to us. It must suffice to take a limited number ofnbsp;examples, in which the evidence is more or less clear. Even these, wenbsp;venture to think, will yield a good deal of instructive material. Most ofnbsp;our illustrations will naturally be taken from stories of the earliernbsp;periods. The unhistorical elements which occur in modern stories seemnbsp;usually to consist of exaggerations and distortions of facts ; and it wouldnbsp;require the knowledge of a specialist to check these.

In Vol. I, Ch. VIII, we classified unhistorical elements as follows: 1. Incidents and situations which are in conflict (a) with reliable historicalnbsp;evidence or (b) with other heroic stories. II. Incidents and situationsnbsp;which are in themselves incredible. III. Matter of various kinds which isnbsp;neither in conflict with other evidence nor yet in itself incredible, butnbsp;which, at least in its context, is certainly or probably to be regarded asnbsp;unhistorical. The invention of characters was treated in connectionnbsp;with the last of these sections.

I. In poems relating to early times heroes who belonged to different ages are frequently brought into association with one another. This isnbsp;especially noticeable in the case of Marko Kraljevic, who is often foundnbsp;in various relations, friendly or hostile, with Janko of Sibinj, i.e. Johnnbsp;Hunyadi. Marko lived in the latter part of the fourteenth century. Hisnbsp;father was killed in 1371, and he himself is believed to have been killednbsp;in 1394. But John Hunyadi belonged to the middle of the fifteenthnbsp;century. He is seldom, if ever, mentioned before 1437; and he cannbsp;hardly have been more than an infant, even if he was born, in Marko�s

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 375 lifetime. Yet this unhistorical association is found not only in the poemsnbsp;published in modem collections, such as those of Karadzic and thenbsp;Matica Hrvatska, but also in early texts preserved in MSS. Thus innbsp;�Marko and Mina (Minja) of Kostur�� the former hero receives annbsp;invitation from Janko to come and christen his child or children; andnbsp;this feature occurs not only in Karadzic�s version, but also in the earliernbsp;text of the same poem preserved in a Zagreb MS. (cf. p. 305). It mustnbsp;date back therefore to the seventeenth century. Again, in a decasyllabicnbsp;poem^ preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS., which dates probablynbsp;from before the middle of the eighteenth century, Marko fights a duelnbsp;with Janko, and cuts off his head.

Janko is by no means the only hero who is incorrectly associated with Marko. In �The Marriage of Djuro of Smeredevo� (cf. p. 317) we findnbsp;a medley of fourteenth and fifteenth century heroes; but the chief partnbsp;is played by Marko. Despot Djuro himself, however, was a contemporary of Janko, and died in 1456. This poem indeed seems to be whollynbsp;fictitious, apart from the name of the bride. But it would probably notnbsp;be difficult to find even more striking anachronisms. The name of thenbsp;emperor associated with Marko is sometimes given as Sulejman; but thenbsp;first of that name succeeded to the throne in the year 1502.

There are perhaps more anachronisms in poems relating to Marko Kraljevic than in any others, owing to the great popularity of this group.nbsp;But equally glaring examples are to be found elsewhere. We may refernbsp;to �The Empress Milica and the Dragon of Jastrebac�, where Vuk thenbsp;�Dragon-Despot� (or �Fiery Dragon�) comes to the aid of Milica, wifenbsp;of Lazar, by a supernatural adventure (cf. p. 322). This Vuk livednbsp;nearly a century after the time of Lazar and Milica.

In bugaritice relating to Hungarian heroes we find not only anachronisms but also incidents and situations of various kinds which are contrary to historical fact. Thus in Bogisic,No. 21 (cf.p. 320) Janko andnbsp;King Vladislav are made to fall at Kosovo with Sekula. Another poemnbsp;{lb. No. 28), represents Janko as living down to the capture of Budim,nbsp;and makes King Vladislav to be slain in its defence. In reality Johnnbsp;Hunyadi died in 1456, while Buda was not captured until 1526; duringnbsp;the interval Hungary was at its greatest strength. Again, there was nonbsp;king called Vladislav reigning in 1526. It would seem that the traditionnbsp;of the bugarhice had combined all Janko�s battles against the Turks in the

� Karadiic, U. No. 62; transi, by Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevii, p. 91 fF. The Zagreb text will be found in Bogisic, No. 7, and in Matica Hrvatska, Junaikenbsp;Pjesme, ii. No. 47.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� BogiSic, No. 88.

second battle of Kosovo�which was fought in 1448�and all the kings of Hungary, except Matthias, in �King Vladislav�. The latter mistakenbsp;was of course facilitated by the fact that three kings bore this namenbsp;in the fifteenth century; and these are not distinguished from onenbsp;another in the poems. Lastly, we may recall here another bugarhicanbsp;(Bogisic, No. 8), noticed on p. 317 above, in which it is stated thatnbsp;Janko was the son of the Serbian prince Stjepan, son of Lazar, and thatnbsp;the latter also was killed at Kosovo. Neither of these statements seemsnbsp;to be in accordance with historical fact.

In poems relating to the first battle of Kosovo (in 1389) anachronisms of this kind seem to be much less frequent. In Karadzic, ii. No. 46, however, we find included among those who fell in this battle Vukasin, whonbsp;was killed eighteen years before, and Erceg Stjepan, who lived nearly anbsp;century later. But the passages in which these heroes are mentionednbsp;occur in the second half of the poem, which is merely a catalogue ofnbsp;forces and apparently unconnected with the first half (cf. p. 314).

After what has been said above it is perhaps hardly necessary to give examples of discrepancies between one poem and another, where thenbsp;historical facts are unknown. A striking instance will be found in thenbsp;different accounts of the death of Andrija, brother of Marko Kraljevic,nbsp;noticed on p. 311.

In modem poems we have not observed anachronisms and un-historical statements of the kind noted above; and we should be inclined to doubt the possibility of their occurrence in relation to recent events. Curious discrepancies, however, between one poem and anothernbsp;do occur occasionally. Thus in one of the poems (Karadzic, v. No. 12)nbsp;on �The Sack of Kolasin� the instigators and leaders of the attack arenbsp;three in number�Cerovic Novica, Milan the Serdar, and Dimitrije thenbsp;Archimandrite, all of whom seem to be equally prominent in the story.nbsp;But in the other poem on the same subject Qi. No. 13) no mention isnbsp;made of Dimitrije. Yet the two poems would appear to be not whollynbsp;independent of one another. And they cannot have had a long life;nbsp;for the event took place in 1858, only seven years before the publicationnbsp;of Karadzid�s collection. The case is of interest therefore, as showingnbsp;how quickly such discrepancies may arise�^whatever may be the cause.

IL Among incidents and situations which are in themselves incredible we may begin with (a) the introduction of supernatural beings. By farnbsp;the most important of these are the Vile�female supernatural beings,nbsp;whose nature will require notice in the next chapter.

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 377 sometimes in poems which cannot properly be regarded as heroic. Innbsp;�The Walling of Skadar� � a mountain Vila throws down the new wallsnbsp;every night, undoing all the work that has been done in the day.

Vile figure prominently in several poems relating to Marko Kraljevic. In �Marko Kraljevic and the Vila�^ the hero is riding with Milos, andnbsp;asks him to sing. Milos replies that on the previous night he has beennbsp;drinking with the Vila Ravijojla, and that she has threatened to shootnbsp;him if he sings. He gives way, however; and the Vila first sings againstnbsp;him, and then shoots him in the heart with an arrow. Marko gives chasenbsp;to her, and eventually catches her and beats her with his mace. Shenbsp;persuades him to let her seek for healing herbs; and with these shenbsp;brings Milos back to life. There are many variant forms of this story.nbsp;In one 3 Relja is Marko�s companion. The Vila is one of three, who arenbsp;offended that the silence of their mountain should be broken by thenbsp;singing. She is sent by the two others, and shoots the offending hero;nbsp;but she is caught by Marko and made to restore him to life. As soon asnbsp;Relja comes to himself, he kills her.

More striking is the story noticed on p. 312, in which Marko captures a Vila and marries her. On one occasion she escapes; but he recoversnbsp;her. She bears him a son. To this story also there is a variant�if suchnbsp;it can be called�according to which (cf. p. 312 f.) it is Vukasin who captures and marries the Vila. Marko and Andrija are her sons. In �Thenbsp;Death of Marko Kraljevicit is a mountain Vila who warns him thatnbsp;his last hour is come.

Another case of marriage with a Vila occurs in a bugarstica^ Bogisic, No. 39. The husband here is Novak; and she escapes from him just asnbsp;in the stories cited. The hero Grujica is her son.

In the bugarstica which recounts the death of Vuk the Dragon-Despot (cf. p. 324) a mountain Vila comes to tend the hero�s wounds. His wife, however, catches sight of her, and tells his mother. Then thenbsp;Vila disappears, and Vuk dies soon afterwards.

In �The Captivity and Marriage of Stjepan Jaksic� (cf. p. 324) a Vila calls out to Mitar from the mountain Avala, and warns him of thenbsp;approach of the Turks. In a bugarstica^ likewise relating to the Jaksica

� Karadzic, n. No. 26; transi, by Morison in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 40 ff.

3 Publ. with German transi, by Krauss, Slavische Polkforschungen, p. 373 other variants follow. Yet another variant will be found in Matica Hrvatska,nbsp;Junaike Pjesme, n. No. 3 (cf. also ib. p. 332 ff.).

(cf. p. 324 �), Vile appear in a less favourable light. One of them, instigated by her companions, brings about a deadly quarrel between the brothers, in which they both lose their lives.

The story of the building of the bridge at Visegrad by Mehmed Pasha Sokolovic (cf. p. 344 f.) seems to be one of the most interesting of all,nbsp;though it may have lost some of its original features. It has elements innbsp;common with �The Walling of Skadar�; but the Vila here is evidentlynbsp;connected in some way with the river Drina.

Vile are introduced not only in Bosnian stories like this, in which the religious milieu is indefinite, but also in definitely Turkish (Mohammedan) stories. We may refer to the incident noticed on p. 357, wherenbsp;a Vila calls from a cloud and proclaims the loyalty of the Bosnian army.

Another Turkish example has been noted on p. 329, where Vile come to the help of the wounded Ibro Nukic and restore him to health.

It will be observed that in many of these stories Vile play an active part in the action. In poems relating to the nineteenth century, however,nbsp;their activities seem to be limited, so far as we have noticed, to exhortingnbsp;and remonstrating with heroes and, more especially, to warning them ofnbsp;impending danger. Examples of both kinds, first of warning and thennbsp;of remonstrance, are to be found in �Kara-Gjorgje�s Farewell to Serbia�,nbsp;cited on p. 332.

In Montenegrin poems we find Vile calling out to heroes to warn them or rouse them to action, even as late as the reign of Danilo (1851-61). Examples will be found in Karadzic, v. 6. i ff., 10. 195 ff., 1031 ff.nbsp;The most elaborate instance, however, occurs in �Omer Pasha�s Attacknbsp;upon Montenegro� (ib. 3.472 IF.). The Vila of Mt Sara (beyond Prizren)nbsp;calls out to the Vila of Mt Kom (Komovi), and bids her put on her wingsnbsp;and fly to the Lovcen and warn Prince Petrovic (Danilo) to arise andnbsp;collect his army; for the Turkish emperor is sending a vast host againstnbsp;him. The second Vila does as she is bidden, calling out to the princenbsp;from the Lovcen, over the plain of Cetinje. But the prince tells her tonbsp;be silent, and says that he has confidence in his Montenegrins and in thenbsp;friendship of the Russian and Austrian emperors. Then the Vila warnsnbsp;him not to trust in false hopes ; and now she succeeds in rousing him tonbsp;action.

We have not met with any later examples than these, though they are probably to be found. The introduction of the Vila of the Durmitor innbsp;� The Lament of the Dragon on the Lovcen� (cf. p. 334 f.) is a rhetoricalnbsp;device of a more sophisticated kind.

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 379 account. Dragons occur sometimes�in one story� Marko Kraljevicnbsp;kills a three-headed specimen�but they are not treated at any greatnbsp;length. The dragon of Jastrebac and Momcilo�s winged horse Jabucilo�nbsp;may be included in the next section.

(J}} The attribution of supernatural powers to human beings or animals is not rare. Some heroes are credited with the power of transforming themselves into snakes or dragons. Such is the case with thenbsp;Hungarian hero Sekula (cf. p. 318 f.), and also with Vuk the Dragon-Despot or Fiery Dragon (cf. p. 322). It would seem that Vuk�snbsp;opponent, the dragon of Jastrebac, was also regarded as a human beingnbsp;with similar powers.3

Marko Kraljevic is credited with absurd feats of strength; and exaggerations of various kinds occur in stories of other heroes. But on the whole the narodne pjesme are comparatively free from reproach in thesenbsp;respects.

Animals^ are sometimes credited with supernatural powers. Marko�s horse Sarac and Momcilo�s horse are able to speak on occasion. Thenbsp;latter also has wings with which it can fly. Falcons too can perform incredible feats in stories of Marko. One has the power of speech ; 5 andnbsp;another carries off the wings and crown of a Vila (cf. p. 312). Ravensnbsp;frequently bring news of disaster from a battlefield (cf. pp. 332, 337).nbsp;Indeed this is one of the most common conventions of battle-poems.nbsp;In Vol. IV of Karadzic�s collection no less than six poems begin in thisnbsp;way.

(c) In Vol. I (p. 216 if.) we treated stories relating to the birth or childhood of heroes as a separate group. In Yugoslav narodne. pjesmenbsp;we have observed only one instance of this kind�the story of the birthnbsp;of Vuk the Dragon-Despot, noticed on p. 322. Some other heroes arenbsp;credited with supernatural or unnatural parentage. In one story, noticednbsp;above, Marko Kraljevic is said to be the son of a Vila, while in �Thenbsp;Sister of Leka Kapetan�, 473 flquot;., Milos is reproached with having been

� Jabu�ilo�s sire seems to be a supernatural being. It inhabits a lake, like Irish supernatural horses. Cf. Karadzic, ii. p. 106, note; Low, op. cit. p. 9. But we do notnbsp;know whether this creature is ever mentioned in poems.

3 It is tempting to think that this story arose out of an attempt to explain Vuk�s surnames. Both stories are possibly influenced by kite-flying of some kind; cf.nbsp;p. 319, note.

Occasionally also inanimate things, as in the action of the Hungarian crown at the election of King Matthias; cf. p. 320.

born from a mare (Jcobild). The latter statement is obviously due to an attempt to explain his surname Kobilovic�as is also the statement in thenbsp;bugarstica noticed on p. 315 that he was suckled by a mare.

As regards poetry relating to heroes after their deaths it has already been pointed out^ that the last scene of the poem on Prince Danilo�snbsp;funeral (Karadzic, V. xviii. 1774 if.) presents an interesting parallel tonbsp;the opening scene in Book xxiv of the Odyssey and to certain Norsenbsp;poems.

III. Among unhistorical elements which fall under neither of the main headings treated above we distinguished in Vol. i (p. 221 ff.) between (a) incidents, motifs and characters which seem to be taken fromnbsp;some other story, and Qd) incidents, etc., which seem to be invented�ornbsp;perhaps adapted from some idea or source which cannot properly benbsp;called a story.

(a) The borrowing of incidents, etc., by one story from another seems to be extremely widespread. It is most obvious in the � Marriages �.nbsp;In these stories the friends of the bridegroom often have to performnbsp;certain feats. One is to shoot an apple; another is to leap over a numbernbsp;of horses, which sometimes have spears fastened upright to theirnbsp;saddles; a third is to pick out the bride from a number of girls, who arenbsp;all dressed alike. All of these occur (e.g.) in the two bugars�ce on thenbsp;marriage of the king of Budim (Bogisic, No. 9 and its variant No. 26)nbsp;and in �The Marriage of Dusan�; the two former also in �The Marriagenbsp;of Djuro of Smeredevo �. It is likely enough that some such feats werenbsp;proposed at marriage; but we find it difficult to believe that the storiesnbsp;are independent, especially the ruse employed for identifying the bridenbsp;in the third feat (cf. p. 318).

There can be no question as to the existence of a connection between �The Marriage of Djuro of Smeredevo� and �The Marriage of Stojannbsp;Popovic 'd In both stories the personnel of the bridegroom�s suite isnbsp;mostly the same, though it consists of persons who belonged to different periods. In both cases we find a request from the bride�s fathernbsp;not to invite Serbians, followed by a letter from the bride herself or hernbsp;mother advising the bridegroom to disregard this request. In bothnbsp;cases the bridegroom submits the question to his mother, who decidesnbsp;in favour of the lady�s advice. A request from the bride�s father not tonbsp;invite certain persons occurs also in �The Marriage of Dusan�. It isnbsp;remarkable how often the marriage takes place in �Latin� cities,especially

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 381 Venice and Ragusa. Apart from the three stories just mentioned thisnbsp;applies to � The Marriage of Vuk the Dragon-Despot � and � The Marriagenbsp;of Maxim Crnojevic�. Yet in all these cases the bridegrooms seem to benbsp;Orthodox; and such marriages must surely have been somewhatnbsp;unusual.

Sometimes we find a substantially identical �marriage� story told of different heroes. Thus the story of Marko Kraljevic�s marriage with thenbsp;Vila (No. 19 in the Matica Hrvatska collection), noticed on p. 312, isnbsp;practically the same as the story of Vukasin�s marriage (ib.') containednbsp;in the Ragusa MS. Again, the story of Momcilo preserved in thenbsp;same MS. (cf. p. 313) is practically identical with �The Marriage ofnbsp;Vukasin� in Karadzic�s collection �ib.'), though in the former storynbsp;Vukasin�s place is taken by a �ban of Njemac�. In these cases virtuallynbsp;the whole theme is borrowed by one story from another, or possiblynbsp;by both from a common source.^

Apart from �Marriages� the most striking instance of borrowing that we know occurs in �Milos among the Latins� (Kradzic, ii. No. 37).nbsp;Lazar sends Milos Obilic to collect tribute from the Latins. They receivenbsp;him courteously, but show him their church of St Dimitrije, and saynbsp;that there are no churches in Serbia equal to it. Milos will not allow this,nbsp;and enumerates a long list of churches. Then he lays a wager that henbsp;will throw a heavy club over this church. He succeeds in his effort;nbsp;but the club falls down upon the palace of the ban and kills his two sons,nbsp;with four generals and twelve other nobles. Milos is then put in prison;nbsp;but he obtains writing materials from a gipsy, and sends word to Lazar.nbsp;The prince immediately demands his release and heavy compensationnbsp;for his imprisonment.

The scene of this incident is not stated in the poem. But Karadzic appends a note saying that the people of Kotor (Cattaro) declare it took place in their city and point out the spot where the bans house had stood.nbsp;There can hardly be any doubt that the incident is the same as thatnbsp;related in Bogisic, No. 76 (cf. p. 353), where the hero is called Ivannbsp;Voihnovic. The latter seems to have lived about a century after thenbsp;time of Lazar and Milos. The poem therefore is a good example of thenbsp;transference of a story from a person who was little known to one whonbsp;was famous.

� Both the stories of Mom�ilo are unhistorical. He is said to have been killed in battle by the Greeks in 1345; cf. Murko, Geschichte d. �lteren, s�dslaw. Litteraturen,nbsp;p. 201.

to prove, when (a) presents so many possible openings. Strictly speaking, one ought to take a case which stands by itself. And such anbsp;case seems to be supplied by the motif of treachery ascribed to Vuknbsp;Brankovic in the story of the first battle of Kosovo. Actually what isnbsp;involved here is apparently not so much deliberate invention as thenbsp;growth of an unhistorical motif. The historical facts are that Vuknbsp;escaped from�or at least survived�the battle and that he continued thenbsp;war against the Turks. The later poems represent him as a traitor; butnbsp;the bugarltica on the battle (Bogosic, No. i. 218) merely states that henbsp;fled to the green mountain, when Lazar was attacked. That does notnbsp;necessarily imply treachery, perhaps not even cowardice if the situationnbsp;was hopeless. But in the tradition of the bugarstice.�two poems arenbsp;affected (cf. p. 315 f.)�the story is complicated by two other motifs,nbsp;(i) the deadly quarrel between Vuk and Milos, and (ii) the charge ofnbsp;treachery brought by the former against the latter. The first of thesenbsp;motifs is obscured in the later poems; and we do not know whether itnbsp;has any historical basis. But it is an essential element in the bugarltica,nbsp;where Vuk�s resentment against Milos is given as the reason for hisnbsp;charge against him and also, later, for his seeking to prevent Lazar fromnbsp;going to rescue him. On the other hand the bugarstica does not, like thenbsp;later poems, represent Milos as charging Vuk with treachery. It wouldnbsp;seem then that two distinct stages can be traced in the growth of thenbsp;story. In the first, represented by the bugarstice, Milos handles Vuknbsp;roughly, owing to a quarrel between the wives, who are sisters ; and Vuknbsp;in revenge accuses him of treachery, and afterwards prevents him fromnbsp;being rescued. In the second stage, represented by the later poems, Vuknbsp;is himself a traitor to Lazar and is denounced as such by Milos before thenbsp;battle. We do not know how far the earlier form is unhistorical;� but wenbsp;suspect that it contains a considerable element of fiction.

Many of the anachronisms, discrepancies and impossible happenings noticed earlier in this chapter are doubtless due to fiction in one form ornbsp;another. We may instance the slaying of Janko (John Hunyadi) bynbsp;Marko Kraljevic and the story of the dragon of Jastrebac; so also thenbsp;deaths of the Jaksica, while unmarried, at the instigation of a Vila�nbsp;especially if this story be compared with several other stories in whichnbsp;they quarrel about their wives.

� The story is told, with only slight variations from the poems, by M. Orbini, Il Regno degli Slavi (Pesaro, i6oi), p. 314. But he may have derived his informationnbsp;from poems. He gives the names of die wives as Mara and Vukosava {Vucosaud).

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 383 treated we would call attention to a decasyllabic poem(Bogisic, No. loi)nbsp;preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS. It contains, we think, morenbsp;unhistorical features than we have met with in any other poem, thoughnbsp;they may be due to borrowing rather than to invention. The emperornbsp;Sulejman writes to General Bergentinovic, challenging him to battle.nbsp;The general has a nephew (sister�s son), called Sekuo (Sekule), who isnbsp;captured by the Turks. The emperor questions him about three greatnbsp;warriors, whom he has seen in the general�s army. He replies that thenbsp;first is Hrelja (Marko Kraljevic�s companion), the second Milos Kobi-lovic, and the third himself. The emperor then asks him how he is tonbsp;put him to death. Is he to throw him into the river, or to burn himnbsp;alive, or to hang himi' Sekuo answers that he is not a fish that he shouldnbsp;swim, or a tree that he should burn, or a thief that he should be hanged;nbsp;he should be treated as a hero. He asks the emperor to set him on anbsp;packhorse, girded with his sword, but with his hands bound and hisnbsp;feet fastened beneath the horse, and three hundred Janissaries in pursuitnbsp;of him. His horse should be given to the one who secures his head.nbsp;The emperor grants his petition; but the hero prays to God, and hisnbsp;hands are freed. Then he seizes his sword and makes a great slaughternbsp;of the Janissaries. After this he returns to his uncle�s camp, and tells himnbsp;to attack the Turks at once. The general gains a great victory.

We cannot identify General Bergentinovic; but his sister�s son Sekuo (i.e. Sekul) can hardly be separated from the famous Sekula, who isnbsp;regularly known as sister�s son of Janko. Milos and Hrelja (Relja) arenbsp;often associated as companions of Marko Kraljevic. Consequently wenbsp;have here representatives of at least three different periods of history.

In Karadzic�s collection (ii. No. 52) there is a poem which can hardly be regarded otherwise than as a variant of this, though the beginning isnbsp;different. A certain Jurisic Janko, whom we cannot identify, is imprisoned by the emperor Sulejman in Stamboul. He begs the emperornbsp;in vain to allow him to ransom himself. Then the emperor asks himnbsp;who were the three generals who destroyed his army at Kosovo. Thenbsp;rest of the story is practically identical with the one given above, exceptnbsp;at the end, where the hero rides away home, and there is no generalnbsp;battle. The three heroes mentioned in this case are Marko Kraljevic,nbsp;�Ognjan��presumably Vuk the Fiery Dragon�who is called Marko�snbsp;sister�s son, and Janko himself. So here again we have charactersnbsp;belonging to three different periods. The battle is said to be at Kosovo.

' A variant form of Sekula. Sekule, Sekulo are Voc. forms of Sekuo, Sekula respectively. The Voc. is frequently used for the Norn, in narodne pjesme.

A much earlier variant is to be found in a bugarhica (Bogisic, No. 46), which is said to have been written down in 1663.^ The prisoner is herenbsp;Svilojevic, who figures in other bugarslice-, but the Sultan (car) is nameless. The three heroes are Marko Kraljevic, Sekula, and Svilojevic himself. The Sultan asks him what form of death he will choose, but makes nonbsp;suggestions. He chooses as in the other versions, except that he has hisnbsp;own horse. The three hundred Janissaries attack him; but one Turknbsp;unbinds him, saying they would be disgraced if they slew a boundnbsp;Kaffir. All the Turks are slain except one wounded man, who reports tonbsp;the Sultan how they have killed the prisoner.

From a comparison of the various versions it seems probable that in the original form of the story, which must go back at least to the firstnbsp;half of the seventeenth century, the three heroes were Janko of Sibinjnbsp;(John Hunyadi), Sekula, his sister�s son, and Svilojevic (Michaelnbsp;Szilagyi), his wife�s brother, and that the battle was the second battle ofnbsp;Kosovo, fought in 1448. In Bogisic, No. 21, we find these three heroesnbsp;riding off together to Kosovo; and they are said to perish there�whichnbsp;is unhistorical. But in No. 25 Sekula only is killed and Michael (Svilojevic) captured�which may be true.� The story, however, with whichnbsp;we are now concerned, is clearly a work of the imagination; and it isnbsp;worth noting that the latter part of it is a frequent theme in timeless,nbsp;nameless stories,3 of course with slight variations. The hero or heroinenbsp;sometimes invokes a Vila, sometimes a saint. In some cases he takesnbsp;revenge on the Sultan.

In conclusion we may consider briefly the poems relating to Marko Kraljevic, who is the central figure of more stories than any other hero.nbsp;If variants be ignored, these poems seem to furnish about thirty ornbsp;forty distinct stories. About half a dozen of these are different � Mar-riages�, in which Marko is the bridegroom. Yet, so far as we know, he isnbsp;never said to have had more than one wife. It would seem thereforenbsp;that not more than one of the �Marriages� can have any historicalnbsp;foundation. We doubt very much if the proportion of fiction�of onenbsp;kind or another�is less in the remainder of the stories. In the storiesnbsp;of Marko indeed the problem is to point out historical rather than unhistorical elements�apart from the mere existence of the hero. Even thenbsp;story of his death is remote from the truth. He was killed at the battle of

* Cf. Bogisic, Introd. p. 125 f. It may be observed that the language is of a peculiar type, approximating to Slovenian.

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 385 Rovine, in 1394, while fighting for the Sultan Bajazit against thenbsp;Rumanian prince Mirceta?

Yet Marko could never have attained his fame if he had not been credited with striking exploits�or at least one striking exploit�fromnbsp;the beginning. It is remarkable therefore that the stories which are thenbsp;earliest authenticated and most widely known are seldom concernednbsp;with such exploits. The earliest (c. 1550) is the poem which describesnbsp;how he killed his own brother Andrija (cf. p. 311); and it is entirelynbsp;sympathetic to the latter. Four other bugarhice are preserved in MSS.,nbsp;of which two are occupied with love incidents, one with the killing ofnbsp;the Arab lady who had befriended him�a confessedly shameful deed�nbsp;and one with the story of Minja of Kostur. Obviously only the last ofnbsp;these comes in for consideration here. Again, seven (irregular) decasyllabic poems are preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS., in whichnbsp;they are said to have been written c. 1758. Of these� two are concernednbsp;with the story of Minja (Mina) of Kostur,3 one with the (unhistorical)nbsp;slaying of Janko (cf. p. 375), one with the avenging of Andrija (cf.nbsp;p. 311)�as against the bugarstica noted above�two with the violationnbsp;of the fast of Ramazan, and one with the robbing of the Sultan�snbsp;treasure. We have not met with the last of these stories elsewhere; butnbsp;the story of Minja is represented by numerous variants,�* and that of thenbsp;breaking of the fast by a good many.5 It would seem that these are thenbsp;only stories found in collections prior to 1800, which could have beennbsp;responsible for Marko�s reputation. The story of Minja may be regardednbsp;as the one which on the whole offers the most promising opening for ournbsp;purpose.

The main features of this story, as told in Karadzic�s text (ii. No. 62), which is translated by Low (p. 91 if.), are as follows. While Marko isnbsp;away fighting for the Turkish emperor against the Arabs, he receives anbsp;message saying that his castle has been burned down, his wife Jela

' According to Orbini, Regno d. Slavi, p. 279, he was put to flight and took refuge in a wood, where he was shot in the throat with an arrow by a Rumaniannbsp;(Vlah), who thought he was a wild animal. Orbini, who was a Ragusan, seems notnbsp;to have regarded Marko as a great hero.

3 It may be observed that No. 86 seems to be in some respects more original than the bugarStica (Jdgt;. No. 7), though the latter is closer to Karadzic�s textnbsp;(11. No. 62; transi, by Low, p. 91 if.). The Hungarian element is wanting innbsp;No. 86.

carried off, and (in this text) his mother killed by a certain Mina of Kostur. He appeals to the emperor, who gives him three hundrednbsp;Turkish warriors. These he sends to Kostur�Castoria in Greeknbsp;Macedonia�disguised as labourers, and tells them to wait there for him.nbsp;But he himself sets off to the Holy Mountain (Athos), where he puts onnbsp;the black garb of a monk and grows a beard. Then he rides to Kostur,nbsp;and is admitted to the castle. But his horse Sarac excites attention-�innbsp;some texts it is recognised by Jela. He explains to Mina that he had foundnbsp;Marko Kraljevic dying, and had been presented with the horse by him.nbsp;Mina is greatly pleased to hear of his death, and begs the monk tonbsp;marry him to Jela, which he does. Then he gives him wine, while Jelanbsp;brings him a large amount of gold and his old sabre. Then the monknbsp;begins to dance, so that the castle shakes. He cuts Mina�s head off withnbsp;the sabre; and the Turks rush in and plunder and burn the castle. Markonbsp;returns to Prilep with his true wife and Mina�s treasures.

The story told in Bogisic, No. 86, is in the main substantially the same, though it contains a number of additional details, whereas No. 87nbsp;is shorter and simpler. The bugarhica {jb. No. 7') resembles Karadzic�snbsp;text more closely in some respects; but it describes �Minja Kosturani� asnbsp;a Magyar, and lays the scene in the �land of the Magyars��apparentlynbsp;not knowing where Kostur is.

In connection with this story account should be taken of a passage in Orbini�s Regno degli Slavic p. 290, where it is stated that after Vukasin�snbsp;death his son Marko Kraljevic held Castoria, together with Ochrida andnbsp;also Argos in the Morea. He attached himself to the Turks, and constantly advanced their interests. His brother-in-law Balsa (Baosa II),nbsp;prince of Zeta (Montenegro), was greatly displeased at this, and camenbsp;against Castoria with a small army. Marko was away, but his wifenbsp;Helena was in the city. She is represented as a woman of flighty character,nbsp;and on bad terms with her husband. Baosa entered into an intriguenbsp;with her, promising to marry her and put away his present wife, anbsp;daughter of Lazar; and she then handed the city over to him. Hearing ofnbsp;this, Marko hastened to the scene with a considerable force, both hisnbsp;own men and Turks, and laid siege to the city. Baosa, however, sent

These three poems (Nos. 7, 86, 87) may also be found in the Matica Hrvatska�s Junacke Pjesme, n. pp. 206 if., 210 if., 424 f. No. 7 is taken from a Zagreb MS. whichnbsp;is believed to have come from the Bocche di Cattaro and was written c. 1700. Thenbsp;features which it has in common with Karadzic�s poem must therefore go back atnbsp;least to cent. xvii. The relationship with No. 86 is evidently more remote, as willnbsp;be seen below.

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 387 word to his brother Gjorgje, who set off to the rescue with a larger force ;nbsp;and Marko had to retire. Then Baosa returned home with his new wife;nbsp;but soon found her conduct intolerable. First he imprisoned her, andnbsp;then sent her away in an insulting manner.

This is a very different story from the one told in the poems; but there can be little doubt that it relates to the same events. The scene is the same,nbsp;and so are the personnel, except that the historical prince Baosa takes thenbsp;place of the unknown Mina. Jela is the usual abbreviation of Helena.nbsp;We do not know the source of Orbini�s story; but it must go back atnbsp;least to the sixteenth century, since his book was published in 1601. Thenbsp;event is dated apparently after 1376 and before 1379, when Gjorgje died.nbsp;Baosa himself was defeated and killed by the Turks in 1383; but we donbsp;not know whether Marko was present at this battle, though one of hisnbsp;brothers was killed on Baosa�s side.

How did Mina come to take the place of Baosa? Most of the versions of the story contain an introduction, in which it is stated that Markonbsp;receives three letters. One is always from the emperor (the Sultan),nbsp;summoning him to war. The others are sometimes from a king ofnbsp;Hungary (Matthias or a nameless king) and Janko. Sometimes, however, one of them is from Mina. Thus in Bogisic, No. 86, where there arenbsp;only two letters, Mina writes that he had heard that Marko is going tonbsp;serve the emperor. �If thou goest to serve the emperor, Marko, I willnbsp;burn down thy palace and carry off thy wife as a slave.� Here Minanbsp;appears more or less in the character of Baosa; he regards Marko as anbsp;traitor. We may remark that the story could hardly have acquirednbsp;currency among the Christians of the west if Baosa�s name had beennbsp;preserved�at least so long as it was remembered that Baosa had lostnbsp;his life fighting as a leader of the Christians against the Turks. Yet in allnbsp;the earlier forms of the story Mina is clearly a Christian�from whichnbsp;we may probably infer that it originated in a milieu which was more ornbsp;less Turcophil.

In Orbini�s account Marko gets little glory from the incident, while his true wife cuts a sorry figure. The discrepancy with the poems isnbsp;great, though hardly greater than what we have found in the differentnbsp;stories of Andrija�s death (cf. p. 311). A hint that Marko was at firstnbsp;baulked in his revenge maybe preserved in the long delay, during whichnbsp;his Turks remain idle. But for all we know Orbini�s account, whichnbsp;comes presumably from Ragusan sources, may itself be biassed; it seemsnbsp;to admit that Marko eventually recovered the city, though not his wife.

and unhistorical elements, but also that two widely different views of Marko were current in the coastland, as far back as the sixteenth century.nbsp;In one he was regarded as a hero, in the other as a traitor. Our earliestnbsp;recorded poem (cf. p. 311) already represents him as a solitary brigand.nbsp;But the story of Mina preserves an earlier representation, in which henbsp;appears as a commander of Turkish troops. There can be no reasonablenbsp;doubt that this story was derived from the interior.

But what we would call attention to in particular is the growth of the Cycle. Many of the stories are obviously fictitious. Many others arenbsp;not impossible in themselves; but they would hardly have attracted thenbsp;attention of poets if Marko had not become famous. It is instructive tonbsp;find one such story current in the island of Hvar, hundreds of milesnbsp;from Prilep, before 1556. The development of the Cycle therefore hadnbsp;begun without doubt in the fifteenth century. It is probable enough thatnbsp;Marko has appropriated stories which were originally told of othernbsp;heroes, and also timeless, nameless stories; but to trace these wouldnbsp;require more knowledge than we possess. We may note, however, thatnbsp;the story of the Vila wife is told also of his father Vukasin and of Novaknbsp;(cf. p. 377). Even the story related of Sekula and others (cf. p. 383 f.),nbsp;about the prisoner choosing his own death, is told also of .Marko? Suchnbsp;transferences may sometimes be quite recent; for the treatment of thenbsp;poems was very free, as we shall see later, even down to the end of lastnbsp;century. But the growth of the Cycle doubtless extended over severalnbsp;centuries. In general we suspect that the attitude which a story showsnbsp;towards the Turks may be taken as a rough criterion of its antiquity. Ifnbsp;the attitude is friendly, as in �Marko and Mina of Kostur�, or if Marko�snbsp;loyalty to the Sultan is emphasised, such a story is likely to date fromnbsp;an early period, before interest in the individual hero was affected bynbsp;religious and national feeling.

We have said nothing about the invention of characters, because the records accessible to us are insufficient for a satisfactory study of thenbsp;question. We are under the impression, however, that in poems relatingnbsp;to the nineteenth century such invention does not occur. In the earliernbsp;periods we have little doubt that minor characters, such as squires andnbsp;servants, were freely invented. In Bogisic, No. i, Busic Stjepan has anbsp;squire called Oliver�a rare, and perhaps unique, example of a namenbsp;taken from French poetry, which can hardly have been current exceptnbsp;in a few of the coast towns. It is not unlikely too, if we may judge

� Matica Hrvatska, Jun. Pjesme, ii. 344 f. Cf. the ^enske pjesme referred to on p. 384, note.

UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN HEROIC POETRY 389 from the frequency of certain names, that women characters were sometimes invented. But were any of the important heroes invented�saynbsp;Novak or the Jaksica.^� That is a question which we fear we can onlynbsp;ask. In the early period, down to c. 1500, we think such cases must benbsp;rare. They may well be more frequent in stories relating to hajduci (cf.nbsp;p. jzyff.), in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. But this impressionnbsp;also may be due to the lack of records.

Note. We wish to call attention here to a passage in Petrovich�s Hero-Tales and Legends of the Serbians, p. 64 f., note, which is of considerable interest asnbsp;bearing upon the occurrence of the marvellous in heroic stories. The passagenbsp;relates to an incident in the Balkan War. Early in November, 1912, anbsp;Serbian army advanced against Prilep, Marko Kraljevic�s castle, which wasnbsp;held by a considerable Turkish force. The general gave orders that thenbsp;infantry were not to attack until the Turkish guns had been silenced. But thenbsp;troops, moved by a sudden impulse, and disregarding their officers, chargednbsp;and carried the position by storm. After the battle the general addressed them,nbsp;and pointed out that this action might have led to disastrous consequences.nbsp;In reply thousands of soldiers shouted that they had been led by Markonbsp;Kraljevi闓Did you not see him on his Sarac?� For further details and thenbsp;names of some of the officers concerned we may refer to the passage cited.

The incident affords striking testimony to the influence of the stories of Marko. It is to be remembered that he had long been regarded as a nationalnbsp;hero, and indeed as a future deliverer of the country. But indirectly thenbsp;incident also has some bearing upon the marvellous elements which occur innbsp;heroic stories themselves. If in a moment of tension such an impression as thisnbsp;could overcome a highly disciplined army, we must not assume that thesenbsp;marvellous elements are necessarily to be dismissed either as late additions tonbsp;the stories or as items in a conventional literary apparatus.

' It has been questioned whether Milo� Obili� was a historical person. But this is carrying scepticism to an unreasonable length; we may refer to the summary ofnbsp;the records given in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 75 ff. Whether he wasnbsp;really a son-in-law of Lazar is of course a different question.

IT is remarkable that supernatural beings of definitely heathen character should play so prominent a part as the Vile do in thenbsp;poetry of a people which had been Christian for several centuriesnbsp;before the earliest times to which any existing poems relate. Doubtlessnbsp;their frequent appearance in the poems is due in the main to poeticnbsp;convention, like the appearance of deities in the Homeric poems andnbsp;elsewhere. But this convention rests ultimately upon belief; and indeednbsp;the belief in Vile is still�or was until yesterday�widespread in somenbsp;parts of Yugoslavia.� We have not met with any instances of actualnbsp;worship; but that is due probably to the inadequacy of our information.^nbsp;Vile diifer from the deities of other peoples in two important respects.nbsp;In the first place they are always female. Secondly, they are creditednbsp;with little or nothing in the way of corporate life. As a rule they appearnbsp;singly, though we hear not seldom of groups of three. Larger groupsnbsp;are rare, except in connection with the dancing of the kolo or roundnbsp;dance. It is on an occasion of this kind that Marko catches the Vilanbsp;Nadanojla (cf. p. 312), who is described as mistress �gospodja) of all thenbsp;Vile. Usually, however, a Vila has no name given to her.

Vile are most frequently connected with mountains�to such an extent indeed that �belonging to the mountain� (^planuikinja or odnbsp;planine) is a static epithet of a Vila. In poems relating to the nineteenthnbsp;century this connection seems to be almost invariable; each big mountain seems to have a Vila of its own. In stories of earlier times, however.nbsp;Vile seem to be associated sometimes with rivers and springs. Innbsp;Bogisic, No. 85, Vukasin plunges with his horse into a lake to catch anbsp;Vila, whom he marries.

� Cf. Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevic, p. 21, note: �A man who was in the service of my wife�s family in Serbia saw a Vila on several occasions, and was reduced each time to a pitiable state of terror....� On popular beliefs regarding Vilenbsp;cf. Krauss, Slavische J^olkforschttngen, p. 34 ff, and passim. They have much innbsp;common with witches, but seem always to be supernatural beings.

� Bishop Danilo, the liberator of Montenegro, is said�apparently in a poem� to have prayed to the Vila of Mt Kom, when the Turks invaded Montenegro innbsp;1712; cf. Temperley, History of Serbia, p. 151. This poem has not been accessible tonbsp;us.

As will be seen from the stories noticed in the preceding chapters, Vile are sometimes malevolent, but more often helpful to heroes. Innbsp;modem poems they do little more than exhort them or warn them ofnbsp;danger; but in early times they frequently play a more active part in thenbsp;story. There are no poems, however, so far as we are aware, concernednbsp;with the affairs of Vile alone�like the stories of Greek, Irish and Norsenbsp;gods. Sometimes we find short passages occupied with discussions between Vile ; but such passages are merely preliminary to their interventionnbsp;in the affairs of some hero.

Personifications of nature are of not very rare occurrence in the narodne pjesme. In general they may be regarded as rhetorical figures;nbsp;but some of them may ultimately be derived from mythological conceptions. Such is perhaps the case with the personification of heavenlynbsp;bodies,' as seen in Karadzic, n. 98, a poem which is concerned with thenbsp;relations of the Jaksica. The framework is a dialogue (Type B) betweennbsp;the Moon and Danica (the Morning Star). The Moon asks Danica wherenbsp;she has been, where she has spent the last three days. In answer to himnbsp;Danica says she has been watching the Jaksica dividing their patrimony;nbsp;and the rest of the poem is occupied with her account of what she hasnbsp;seen. In Bogisic, No. 46 (cf. p. 384) a girl appeals to the Moon to tellnbsp;her if he has seen Svilojevic; and the rest of the poem is occupied withnbsp;his answer.

A much more sophisticated example of personification is to be found in a poem* which consists of a dialogue�or rather altercation�nbsp;between Earth and Heaven (Sky). Earth complains of the bad weathernbsp;sent by Heaven, which ruins her trees and fruits and harasses the life ofnbsp;mankind. Heaven replies that he has every reason to be wroth with her,nbsp;owing to the sins of mankind, which he briefly recounts. The framework is that of Type B; but there is obviously a (moral) didactic purpose�so we may class the poem under CB. For the didactic element innbsp;the poem an analogy will be found in the first example treated in the nextnbsp;section. For its sophisticated character we may compare �The Lamentnbsp;of the Dragon on the Lovcen� (cf. p. 334 f.); butin the latter the dragon

' It is difficult to doubt the existence of some connection in the past between these personifications and those of the same heavenly bodies which are found innbsp;Lithuanian poems or songs; but the mythological element in the latter is morenbsp;definite.

� Matica Hrvatska, Zenske Pjesme, n. No. i. German transi, by Eisner, Volkslieder der Slawen, p. 341 f. Other personifications will be found ib. p. 399 f.

seems to represent Mirko, the prince�s brother, while the interest is national, rather than moral.

Even in unsophisticated narrative poetry natural objects are sometimes personified to the extent that speeches are addressed to them. We may quote from one of the poems on the �Sack of Kolasin� (Karadzic,nbsp;V. xii. 55 5 if.) : �Would thou couldst see the Serdar Milan, how mightilynbsp;he raged�^what strength the Serdar showed! He seized the Turks bynbsp;their white throats, two and four of them at a time, and dashed themnbsp;down from the wall of the fortress; and the clear stream of Tara borenbsp;them oif. The Serdar cried with the full force of his lungs: �Tara, thounbsp;rolling stream, devour the awful Turks of Kolasin.��

Apart from heathen conceptions and personifications of nature the mythological instinct has also been busy with saints and other charactersnbsp;who figure in ecclesiastical records of ancient times. A number ofnbsp;poems^ are concerned with the doings of these characters. They arenbsp;treated in a familiar style, not unlike what we find in stories of thenbsp;Greek, Irish and Norse deities. The scene is laid sometimes in heaven,nbsp;sometimes on earth; but in the latter case no indication is given thatnbsp;it is in Yugoslavia. This fact distinguishes them from the non-heroicnbsp;stories of native saints noted on p. 343 f. The latter also seem to be muchnbsp;more definitely ecclesiastical in tone than the poems now under consideration.

In �The Saints divide the Treasures�� the scene is laid in Heaven. A number of saints, St Peter, St Nicholas, St John, St Elias andnbsp;St Pantelia, are �dividing the treasures��an expression which is explained later�when Maria the Blessed arrives, weeping bitterly. Eliasnbsp;the Thunderer asks her what is the cause of her trouble, addressing hernbsp;as �our sister�. She replies to him, as �my brother�, that she has justnbsp;come from the accursed land of Indjia,3 where lawlessness is rampant.nbsp;She gives a list of the sins prevalent there, which seems to be merely anbsp;longer variant of the list given by Heaven in the poem noticed above.nbsp;Then Elias asks her to wipe away her tears, and promises that, as soonnbsp;as they have divided their treasures, they will go to God�s court and

� We have seen very few stories of this kind. We do not know whether there are many of them in existence.

� Karadzic, II. No. 1; transi, (free) by Petrovich, Hero-Tales and Legends of the Serbians, p. 195 ff. Karadzic, ii. No. 2 is a variant.

3 Indjia (Jndjijd} presumably means the district round the place now called Indija, in Srijem, about thirty miles to the north-west of Belgrade.

POETRY RELATING TO SUPERNATURAL BEINGS 393 beg for the keys of heaven, so that they may close the heavens andnbsp;prevent the fall of any rain or dew. In the meantime they divide amongnbsp;themselves their �treasures� (blago). Peter takes wine and wheat and thenbsp;keys of the kingdom of heaven, Elias lightnings and thunders, Pantelianbsp;great heats, St John takes brotherhood and fellowship and crosses ofnbsp;holy wood, Nicholas the waters and ships. Then they make their waynbsp;to God�s court and after three days� prayer obtain the keys of heaven.nbsp;They seal up the clouds, so that no rain or dew falls for three years;nbsp;and famine and plague destroy the people, until the survivors repent.

There is a Montenegrin variant of this poem (Karadzic, ii. No. 2), in which a larger number of saints figure. Here Maria, called �the Fiery�,nbsp;takes the lightnings and thunders; but it is Elias who has visited thenbsp;accursed land�which seems to be the whole earth. There is no referencenbsp;to locking up the heavens; but each saint uses his or her �treasure�nbsp;against the land, with the same effect as in the other variant. It is innbsp;Srijem that the people begin to repent. As Indjia is in Srijem, we maynbsp;perhaps infer that the original poem was composed in that district.nbsp;It would seem to have been composed for some moral didactic purposenbsp;(Type C), like the dialogue of Earth and Heaven, with which it cannbsp;hardly be unconnected. The motif of the saints dividing their treasuresnbsp;may, however, have been taken over from older poems.

Next we may take Karadzic, ii. No. 17, �The Emperor Duklijan� and John the Baptist�, another Montenegrin poem, but one which is evidentlynbsp;intended merely for entertainment (Type A), at least in its present form.nbsp;John and the emperor are drinking wine together on the sea shore�thenbsp;locality is not further specified. Then John suggests that they should gonbsp;and play, he with an apple and the emperor with his crown. St Johnnbsp;soon throws his apple, and it falls down to the bottom of the sea; and henbsp;begins to cry bitterly. The emperor tells him not to cry; he will get thenbsp;apple back for him, if John will not take his crown. John swears bynbsp;God that he will not take it; and then the emperor swims out for thenbsp;apple. Then John flies to Heaven, and asks the Lord if he may swearnbsp;falsely by him and take the crown. The Lord replies: �John, my truenbsp;servant ! You may swear falsely by me three times, but not by my name.�^nbsp;St John now flies back to the shore, just as the emperor is returning fromnbsp;the sea with the apple. They resume their games; but the apple againnbsp;falls into the sea, and again John begins to cry. The emperor says:

� This seems to be the literal meaning of the words; but we do not understand the distinction.

�Fear not, dear comrade! I will recover the apple for you; but do not steal my crown.� John swears by God three times that he will not takenbsp;it. Then the emperor covers the crown with his cap, sets a bird � of evilnbsp;news�� to watch it and again dives into the blue sea. St John now makesnbsp;the sea to freeze, seizes the golden crown, and flies up to Heaven. Butnbsp;the bird croaks ; and the emperor hears it, and rises from the bottom ofnbsp;the sea. After great difficulty he succeeds in breaking through the ice;nbsp;and then he puts on his wings and sets off in pursuit of John. He overtakes him at the gate of Heaven, and seizes him by the right foot�nbsp;�what he gets hold of, that he tears off�. John comes weeping to thenbsp;Lord, bringing the bright �sun�^ to Heaven. He bemoans how thenbsp;emperor has paid him out. Then the Lord says to him: �Fear not, mynbsp;true servant! I will do thus for everyone.�

In explanation of this poem, and especially of its somewhat obscure conclusion, Karadzic (tb. p. 84 f.) gives the following story, which henbsp;says he had heard in his childhood. When the devils had been expellednbsp;from Heaven they took the sun with them, and the emperor of thenbsp;devils carried it fixed on the end of a spear. The earth complains tonbsp;God that it is all being burnt up; so he sends the Archangel to get it backnbsp;from the devils. The Archangel makes up to the emperor; but thenbsp;latter suspects what he wants. They go to the seashore to bathe, and thenbsp;Archangel suggests they should try which can dive furthest. He divesnbsp;first, and brings up sand from the bottom. Then the devil dives; butnbsp;before doing so he makes a magpie out of his spittle and sets it to watchnbsp;the sun, which is fixed on his spear. The Archangel now makes the sea tonbsp;be covered with a thick coating of ice; and then he seizes the sun andnbsp;runs off to God. But the magpie croaks; and when the devil hears it henbsp;rises and by great efforts breaks through the ice, and gives chase. Justnbsp;as the Archangel gets one foot in Heaven, the devil catches him andnbsp;tears off a large piece of flesh from the sole of the other foot with hisnbsp;finger-nails. The Archangel comes wounded to God with the sun andnbsp;asks what he is to do after such a wound. But God tells him not to benbsp;afraid; he will bring it about that all people shall have a similar smallnbsp;hollow under the sole of the foot. The story ends with the remark thatnbsp;in consequence of this all people still have a small hollow under thenbsp;soles of both feet.

� Is this a kenning for �raven�.� With iloglasnica we may compare ilokobnica (�of evil omen�), applied to a raven in Bogi�ic, No. 82. 54, 58.

� The text has tunce, which is a misprint for sunce (�sun�), as noted in the Corrigenda at the end of the volume.

A modern reader might be inclined to regard � The Emperor Duklijan and John the Baptist� as an attempt made by some enemy to bringnbsp;ridicule upon the Christian religion, though it is hardly credible thatnbsp;such a work could have found its way into circulation among narodnenbsp;pjesme. But the story just noticed shows that it has a history behind it.nbsp;There must be some relationship between the two; and the poem is notnbsp;likely to be in general the older version. Not only is its conclusionnbsp;hardly intelligible without the other; but as a whole it is more remotenbsp;from anything that we know of ecclesiastical legend. Perhaps John thenbsp;Baptist and the emperor Duklijan have taken the places of the Archangelnbsp;and the emperor of the devils. But we do not know whether the storynbsp;of the theft and recovery of the sun is found outside Yugoslavia.^ Thenbsp;point which interests us here is that a story which in some form or othernbsp;must be founded ultimately on ecclesiastical legend has in course of timenbsp;come to be transformed into a mythological poem of entertainment,nbsp;with a very low standard of morality. This fact may not be withoutnbsp;significance for the interpretation of ancient mythological stories innbsp;which deities are presented in an ugly or ludicrous light. Perhaps thenbsp;closest analogy is to be found in the story of Othin�s theft of the meadnbsp;(cf. Vol. I, p. 249 f.).�

We know only of one or two other poems which may properly be said to belong to the series under discussion.3 Among them we maynbsp;perhaps include a poem on the �Birth of St Pantelija�,'^ apparently fromnbsp;Gacko (cf. p. 333) in Hercegovina, close to the Montenegrin border.nbsp;There were two sisters who had no brother; but they tried to make onenbsp;out of spikenard and white silk. Then the materials are given in detail.nbsp;They make his heart of box-wood, his head from a golden apple, hisnbsp;scalp from tufts of silk, his eyebrows from a sea-leech, his teeth from anbsp;string of pearls, and so forth. Then they bring him drink and food ; butnbsp;his mouth is unable to eat, and his tongue cannot speak. Two angelsnbsp;watch what is happening so intently that they are late in returning home,nbsp;and God asks them what has detained them. When he hears their

Story, he sends them back to earth, to infuse life into the lifeless man and give him the name Pantelija. He is to give his sisters in marriagenbsp;and to live forty years. They carry out his orders; and it comes to passnbsp;as he has said. Pantelija dies at the end of forty years. For this story anbsp;close parallel is to be found in a timeless, nameless poem fromnbsp;Bosnia.^

Lastly, we may notice here a poem called �The Holy Crosses� (Karadzic, ii. No. 18), which belongs to a different class from those wenbsp;have been discussing. The emperor Kostadin (Constantine the Great)nbsp;is drinking wine in Constantinople with the Apostles Peter and Paul.nbsp;He asks them where the holy crosses now are and what emperor possessesnbsp;them. They reply that they are in the Hebrew land ; and they tell him tonbsp;raise an army and ravage that country. He is to capture the Hebrewnbsp;emperor and torture him; but the latter will die before he tells themnbsp;where the crosses are. Then Kostadin is to seize the empress� child andnbsp;place it between two fires till it hisses like a snake; and the empress willnbsp;then disclose the secret. He acts according to the Apostles� directions,nbsp;captures the Hebrew emperor and tortures him to death, and thennbsp;scorches the child between two fires. The empress first promises, andnbsp;then withdraws ; but when the child is again brought to the fires she givesnbsp;full information as to the crosses. The rest of the poem follows the usualnbsp;tradition.

This story is one which was familiar to the greater part of the Christian world. The form in which it is given here has some peculiarnbsp;features, especially the opening scene with the Apostles. Constantinenbsp;plays the chief part, instead of Elena, who is barely mentioned; and thenbsp;torturing of the Hebrew chief is greatly magnified�he is stripped ofnbsp;hands, feet, eyes and teeth. The torturing of the child also seems to be anbsp;new element, as far as we know. But in spite of all this the story remainsnbsp;perfectly recognisable. It stands on quite a different footing from thenbsp;other stories noticed above.

Yet all the stories we have been discussing may in some sense be regarded as of ecclesiastical origin, like most of the non-heroic storiesnbsp;noticed on pp. 343 f., 345 f- �The Holy Crosses� has changed com-

� Transi, by Eisner, Volkslieder der Slawen, p. 411 f. The first part of the poem seems to be merely a variant of the one given above; but it develops differently.nbsp;Another variant, likewise timeless, nameless but very brief, is to be found in Karadzic, I. No. 307; cf. Bowring, Servian Popular Poetry, p. 213. It may be observednbsp;that the �Lives� of St Pantaleon (Pantelija) are said to have nothing in common withnbsp;the story given above (cf. Krauss, op. cit. p. 349).

POETRY RELATING TO SUPERNATURAL BEINGS 397 paratively little from its original form; possibly it has not had a verynbsp;long life as a narodna pjesma. The others have been assimilated by thenbsp;native minstrelsy and transformed to such an extent that their originalnbsp;form or character seems impossible to determine. In one case even thenbsp;personnel has apparently been changed; and something similar maynbsp;have happened with �The Birth of St Pantelija�. In their present formnbsp;these poems can only be regarded as examples of popular mythology.

O T H poetry and saga of this category are abundant. The saga accessible to us, however, consists either of folk-tales�some of

* them widely distributed folk-tales�or stories of similar character. We shall therefore confine our attention, as usual, to the poems. Innbsp;these all the possible types (A, B, C, D) are represented.

In Type A we include not only poems which are strictly nameless but also, as in Vol. i, poems relating to persons with names in common usenbsp;which are insufficient�and presumably not intended�to convey anynbsp;means of identification. Some of them contain geographical names;nbsp;and it is always possible that such poems may originally have beennbsp;concerned with persons known from other sources. But unless definitenbsp;evidence to this effect is available we think it better to treat them asnbsp;relating to characters existing only for the moment.

First we may take Bogisic, No. 38, a poem preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS., where it is described as an account of an event of about the year 1380. It gives the impression, however, of being anbsp;purely imaginative work. Ivan the Croatian has a Turkish servantnbsp;(unnamed), who serves him for nine years, not for the sake of money,nbsp;but for the sake of Ivan�s sister. Yet he never sees her until the end ofnbsp;this time, when he catches sight of her at a window. As he is unable tonbsp;get possession of her, he goes to the Turkish emperor and persuadesnbsp;him to lend him his horse, a sword with silver hilt, and a hundred ducatsnbsp;wherewith to buy silk�in return for which he promises to bring himnbsp;the girl. Then he returns to Croatia and sets up a tent; and the ladiesnbsp;come to buy his silks. Ivan�s sister comes also; and as soon as shenbsp;arrives, he mounts his horse and carries her off to the mountains. Thennbsp;he asks her how he is to get past the emperor�s palace. She tells him tonbsp;give her his yellow boots, his silk turban, his silver-hilted sword andnbsp;his horse, and to stand beside her as an attendant. The Turk thinks she isnbsp;advising him in good faith and does as she asks. But as soon as she isnbsp;mounted (and dressed as a man), she turns the horse towards Croatia andnbsp;makes off. He calls after her, to bring the horse back; but she takes nonbsp;heed. When she arrives home she finds that Ivan has assembled the

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 399 Croatian lords to go in pursuit of her. He does not recognise her, andnbsp;she asks him to invite her to dinner. Then she tells him that she has metnbsp;a renegade Vlah carrying off a Croatian girl as a prisoner. Her brothernbsp;begins to weep, and she makes herself known to him.

Several poems of this class are contained in Vol. ii of Karadzic�s collection. We may first take No. ii, �Mujo and Alija�, a poem fromnbsp;Montenegro, which seems to be derived from a �Turkish� source.^ Twonbsp;brothers, Mujo and Alija, go fowling. They come to a lake, where theynbsp;see a duck. Mujo sets his falcon upon it, and Alija his crane; and Mujonbsp;is vexed because the crane catches it. Then they drink wine under a pine,nbsp;and go to sleep. Three Vile see them; and the eldest says she will give anbsp;hundred ducats to any Vila who will make the brothers quarrel. Thenbsp;youngest Vila flies over Mujo�s head and pours hot tears down over hisnbsp;face. He springs up as if he was mad, and sees the girl. Then he calls outnbsp;to his brother, who likewise springs up and replies : �May you not comenbsp;to a bad end! Two girls to you,� and not one to me!� Mujo in angernbsp;stabs him to the heart. Then he mounts his horse, lifts up the girl behindnbsp;him, and makes for home. Now Alija�s horse begins to cry, and thenbsp;dying man begs his brother not to leave it abandoned on the mountains.nbsp;He therefore places the girl on it, and they set out. On the way theynbsp;meet with a raven which has lost its right wing; and he asks the bird hownbsp;it manages without it. The raven answers that it is like a man who isnbsp;without a brother��like you without Alija�. Now Mujo begins tonbsp;repent of the heroism he has just shown. The Vila tells him to turnnbsp;back, saying that she was once a healing Vila and that she would heal hisnbsp;brother. He turns back; but when he arrives at the lake he looks roundnbsp;and sees that the horse behind him is riderless�the Vila has gone. Henbsp;runs up to his brother; but Alija is already dead. When Mujo sees this henbsp;draws his sword and plunges it into his own heart.

This story is of special interest owing to the resemblance which it bears to a poem describing the deaths of the Jaksica, noticed onnbsp;p. 324 f., above�a bugarstica preserved in one of the Zagreb MSS.nbsp;Indeed the general parallelism between the two poems is so close that innbsp;a sense one might perhaps be inclined to regard them as variants. Nownbsp;it was pointed out on p. 324 that the Zagreb poem is irreconcilable with

� The characters are presumably to be identified with two brothers named Muji and Halili, who seem to be much celebrated in Albanian oral poetry; cf. Lambertz,nbsp;Volkspoesie der Albaner (Sarajevo, 1917), p. 7 ff.

� Karadzic was uncertain whedier this means that Mujo is married or that there are two Vile beside him.

most of the other poems relating to the Jaksica; for it represents these heroes as perishing unmarried, whereas the other poems are largelynbsp;concerned with their wives. It would seem therefore that this is a fairlynbsp;clear instance of a heroic story derived from a timeless, nameless story.

Some of these poems contain an �edifying� element, and one is in doubt whether to treat them under Type A or Type C. As an examplenbsp;we may take Karadzic, 11. No. 5, a poem which has been translated intonbsp;English^ and may therefore be noticed very briefly. Jelica, who is unmarried, has a married brother named Paul, as well as another marriednbsp;brother who hardly comes into the story. Paul�s wife is jealous ofnbsp;Jelica; and in order to bring about her undoing she kills her husband�snbsp;horse, and tells him that the deed has been done by his sister�whonbsp;denies the charge. Then she kills his falcon, and finally her own child.nbsp;At this Paul is so enraged that he will not accept Jelica�s denial; and shenbsp;tells him, if he will not believe her, to tie her to the tails of horses. Henbsp;does so; and flowers spring up wherever her blood is shed, and anbsp;church arises at the spot where she dies. Then Paul�s wife falls ill with anbsp;loathsome sickness. She begs to be taken to Jelica�s church; but a voicenbsp;from the church says she is not to come there�the church will do nothingnbsp;for her. Then she tells her husband to tie her to the tails of horses. Wherenbsp;her blood falls thorns spring up ; and at the spot where she dies a lakenbsp;appears. In this a horse is seen swimming and drawing a cradle, whichnbsp;contains a falcon and a child, with its mother�s hand holding a knife atnbsp;its throat.

Poems of this class occur more frequently among \enske pjesme. (cf. p. 306). A good number of examples will be found in Vol. n of thenbsp;collection published by the Matica Hrvatska.^ Most of them are of anbsp;simple and childish character, and quite short. One or two specimensnbsp;will be sufficient.

In No. 3 a girl is gathering flowers on the mountain. She falls asleep ; and when she wakes she says to herself that she will drink no wine, nornbsp;kiss a man�s face, nor eat mutton.3 She thinks no one hears what shenbsp;says; but she is overheard by two servants of a Pasha, who go and tellnbsp;their master what she has said. He orders them to go back and seize andnbsp;bind her, and bring her to him; and they do so. Then the Pasha asks her

� By Petrovich, Hero-Tales and Legends of the Serbians, p. 206 if., under the title �The Stepsisters�. Surely it ought to be �The Sisters-in-Law�.^

� Vol. I of Karadzic�s collection also contains a considerable number�many of them very short.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 401 if it is true what they have reported, and she confesses that it is. Next,nbsp;he asks if she will become a Turk, and be his wife. She replies that shenbsp;will not�she prefers the mountain to his court. The Pasha then putsnbsp;his hand in his pocket, takes out a thousand ducats, which he presents tonbsp;her, and sends her back to the mountain.

No. 4 begins with the same motif. The girl, who is here called Mare of Zara, is minding sheep on the mountains. She tells them to feed withoutnbsp;fear of the emperor or his servants, while she goes gathering flowers.nbsp;Two servants of the emperor (Sultan) hear her and report to theirnbsp;master, who orders her to be brought and questions her, as in thenbsp;preceding poem. She admits the charge; and he then asks her whethernbsp;she prefers to be trodden down by horses or burned with fire or slainnbsp;with a sword. She replies that she is not grass to be trodden by horses,nbsp;nor wood to be burned with fire, nor a tree to be cut down with a sword.nbsp;Then, as in the story of Sekuo (cf. p. 383), at her request he has hernbsp;bound and placed on an old horse, with six hundred Turks in pursuit ofnbsp;her. Then she calls for help to St Tekla, St Nedjelja and the Vila of thenbsp;mountain, her comrade. She is at once freed and her horse rejuvenated;nbsp;and she turns upon the Turks, kills most of them and puts to flight thenbsp;rest. Then she dashes into the palace, seizes the emperor and ties him tonbsp;the horse�s tail, and rides off home.

No. 28 is a short poem with quite a different theme. Bogdan has nine vineyards, nine water-mills and nine horses, and has to part with themnbsp;all in order to pay his debts. But even then he does not get clear; and henbsp;decides to sell his old mother. His wife tells him it would be muchnbsp;better to sell her. He will get a better price for her than for his mother,nbsp;and at the same time incur less disgrace. Bogdan agrees, and takes hisnbsp;wife to Novi Pazar, where he sells her to a Turkish Janissary for threenbsp;hundred ducats. The Turk takes the wife by the right hand and liftsnbsp;her on to his horse behind him, and goes home singing; but Bogdannbsp;goes home wailing.

This poem comes from Sibinj. There is a much longer variant (No. 29), from the island of Sipan, in which the husband is callednbsp;Ljutica Bogdan, while the man who buys his wife is called Beg Filipovic.nbsp;The latter discovers that the lady is his long lost sister�a not uncommon denouement in stories of this kind�and the incident ends happily.nbsp;This poem cannot properly be assigned to the category now under discussion; for several of the characters have quite distinctive names. Thenbsp;description also given by Jela (the lady) of her family and home atnbsp;Karlovac is quite precise. On the other hand No. 28 may well be re-

garded as practically timeless-nameless; for the only names which occur in it are the man�s name Bogdan, which is fairly common, and the place-name Novi Pazar. The obvious relationship between the two poems isnbsp;therefore of some interest, though its nature is not clear. Has No. 28nbsp;come into our category by losing�perhaps by forgetfulness�itsnbsp;termination and most of its names.^ Or has No. 29 been developed out ofnbsp;the timeless-nameless story seen in No. 28 by attaching to it a rathernbsp;popular motiP We do not know whether any of the characters arenbsp;known from other sources.

Type B of this category seems to be of frequent occurrence in short poems of a simple character, many of which resemble thenbsp;modem folksongs of other European peoples. Longer examples arenbsp;apparently somewhat rare; but the following instances may be noted.

First we may take the �Prayer of a young Vlahinja�, a bugarstica published in Bogisic�s collection (No. 83) from one of the Zagreb MSS.nbsp;Apart from three lines of introduction and one of epilogue it consistsnbsp;wholly of a speech. She prays God not to kill her with vital longing, tonbsp;pierce her with cruel darts. May she have the full love of a proud hero�nbsp;wearing upon her head a green garland of olive and seeing upon hernbsp;hand a gold ring of countless value. But if God will kill her, may henbsp;turn her into a slender pine upon the mountain, and make fine clover ofnbsp;her fair hair and two springs of clear water from her dark eyes. When hernbsp;lord comes to hunt upon the mountain, may he take his rest beneath thenbsp;pine and refresh his horses with the clover and at the springs. The poetnbsp;adds that she obtained what she prayed for. It will be seen that in formnbsp;this poem bears a certain resemblance to the Anglo-Saxon poem � Thenbsp;Wife�s Complaint�; but the study of character and the subtlety of conception which distinguish the latter are of course wanting here.

Another bugarhica, No. 82 in the same collection, is a composition of more advanced type. This also is preserved in one of the Zagreb MSS.;nbsp;but Bogisic�s text is taken from Barakovic�s Kila Slovinska, which wasnbsp;written before 1625, though not printed until 1682. A swallow is pipingnbsp;plaintively at the gate of Zara. It is piping late; the sun has set and thenbsp;moon has risen. But it is no swallow. It is Majka Margarita (�Mothernbsp;Margaret�), the old mother of Ivan, calling for her son and her brother.nbsp;A white Vila from the mountains comes to her and asks her why she isnbsp;lamenting�what trouble is causing her tears to flow. She replies thatnbsp;she has two cruel wounds in her heart, from which she cannot recover.nbsp;She has had a young brother Peter and a dear son Ivan, and brought

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 403 them up to the age of manhood. But a bright dawn summoned them,nbsp;and she committed them to the dawn. Now she does not know whethernbsp;they are alive or dead. But she has seen a sorrowful portent�a ravennbsp;perched upon the parapet of the walls of Zara, with its black wings allnbsp;stained with blood. She has tried to make friends with the raven, askingnbsp;it to explain the portent and promising to cool its weary wings with hernbsp;tears. But the evil bird would not look at her. It has flown away to thenbsp;mountain and left her weeping. The Vila asks her what price she isnbsp;willing to pay for the release of her brother and son, if they have fallennbsp;into the hands of the Turks. She replies that she will give her head fornbsp;her brother and be burned with fire for her son. Then the Vila says shenbsp;will tell her the truth. They have not been imprisoned by the Turks. Anbsp;Greek girl has fallen in love with her brother and given him drink fromnbsp;the water of oblivion, so that he will remember his sister no more. Hernbsp;son, at parting with whom her heart was turned to stone, has gone to thenbsp;� Coastland�.' There fair Cvite of the Coastland has found him. She hasnbsp;woven a garland of magic acanthus. At sight of one another they fall innbsp;love, and she crowns him with the garland, so that he will never returnnbsp;to his mother. Now she must lament and grieve and shed bitter tears�nbsp;never drying the tears from her face. She will neither be able to addressnbsp;her brother nor to expect her son.

The central feature of this poem is an unexpected denouement. The introduction of the raven, which flies away without speaking, is anbsp;parody of a traditional motif, very widespread in heroic poems, whichnbsp;makes ravens bring to a woman news of the slaying of her husband ornbsp;son. And the attitude of the Vila�as indeed of the poem as a whole�nbsp;can hardly be regarded otherwise than as cynical in the highest degree.nbsp;The affinities of the poem therefore are �post-heroic�, as might be expected in a composition originating in one of the coast towns. Fornbsp;analogies we may turn to Greek poets like Archilochos or Norse poetrynbsp;of the Viking Age, especially the Hdvamdl.

The modem poems of this type known to us are often short dialogue (conversational) pieces, of a simple and trifling character. It is difficultnbsp;to give abstracts without conveying an impression of banality, which isnbsp;unfair to the originals. We may take an example from the collections ofnbsp;the Matica Hrvatska, Zamp;nske Pjesme, ii. No. 99, which describes thenbsp;sparring of a boy and a girl. A youth is sauntering through Karlovac,nbsp;Weary and thirsty, with his head full of girls. He is smoking a pipe and

playing a mandoline of pure gold, with strings made of girls� hair and a peacock�s feather for a plectrum. A girl sees him from a window, andnbsp;he asks her why she is watching him. He is a hero and will not have hernbsp;until he sees her white hands. Does she know how to spin and use anbsp;needle.^ He has heard she is a spinner, and so he will send her a smallnbsp;bundle of yarn, for her to make a shirt and breeches. What is left of thenbsp;yarn she can use for her clothes, and then she can boast to her friendsnbsp;that her lover has put together her clothes. The girl answers that she hasnbsp;heard he is a goldsmith; so she will send him some gold tinsel, for himnbsp;to make her a complete weaving apparatus.�' With what is left he cannbsp;shoe his horse, and boast to the heroes of his village that his sweetheartnbsp;has shod his horse. The same collection contains a number of similarnbsp;poems, e.g. Nos. 57, 77 f., 87 If.

Short monologue poems of this type are also not uncommon. As an instance we may cite Karadzic, i. No. 361, a poem from Ragusa. Thenbsp;speaker, who is a girl, compares the attraction of lovers to that ofnbsp;certain herbs,� and then goes on to complain that her own lover has leftnbsp;her. �My lover has gone to Venice. I will write to him a sheet of thinnbsp;paper, to tell him that he is to have no love-making with the girls ofnbsp;Venice, but to come back to his white house. But if he will not comenbsp;home, I will give my young heart to another, who is handsomer andnbsp;better than he.� The majority of such poems contain a short narrativenbsp;element, by way of introduction; but exceptions, like the one cited here,nbsp;are not rare.

As noted above, many of these short poems show a closer approximation to the folksongs of other European peoples. We are under the impression that poetry of this type is peculiarly subject to externalnbsp;influence. This is a question, however, which we must leave to thosenbsp;who have a knowledge of the popular poetry of the neighbouringnbsp;peoples, especially perhaps Slovenian and Italian.

Type C in this category seems hardly to be so common as one might have expected. But the distinction between Type C and Type A here isnbsp;not very clearly marked; and perhaps we ought to include under thenbsp;former such poems as Karadzic, ii. No. 4, which was noticed on p. 400.nbsp;The poems which have now to be noticed all contain a religious element.

� We do not know the exact meaning of the technical terms used here, nor even that of their English equivalents. If we are right in translating tetrejika {titreika) asnbsp;�tinsel�, the whole passage must be taken in a playful sense�the materials specifiednbsp;being (probably in both cases) ludicrously inadequate. The vocabulary of thesenbsp;poems presents a good many difficulties.

� Basil and cmilje. The latter is said to mean � Sandruhrkraut�,but is unknown to us.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 405 The moral is not always obvious, if there is one at all. The denouementnbsp;is sometimes different from what one would have expected.

We will take first the Matica Hrvatska, op. cit. No. 2. A pretty girl is sewing and singing to herself that she fears no one but God�neithernbsp;the emperor (Sultan) nor his sons. She would found three churches withnbsp;golden altars and silver doors. The story then proceeds on conventionalnbsp;lines (cf. p. 400 f.). She thinks nobody hears her; but two of the emperor�s servants are listening, and report to their master what she has said.nbsp;He sends them back to arrest her. If her hair is over two feet long, theynbsp;are to bring her to him ; if not, they are to cut off her head. She passes thenbsp;test, and is brought to the palace. The emperor asks her if the report isnbsp;true; and she confesses that it is. Then he tells his servants to lock hernbsp;up in a prison, with cold water reaching to her knees and green weeds upnbsp;to her shoulders. After nine years he sends them to bring her bones.nbsp;But they find the prison brightly lighted, as if the sun was shining. Innbsp;front of her is a golden table, and beside her three angels of God. Theynbsp;run to tell him the news ; and he sends them again to bring the girl and asknbsp;her who has provided her with food, who has washed her face and plaitednbsp;her hair. They bring her to the palace, and she tells the emperor her story�nbsp;how God had sent three of his angels. Then the emperor marries her tonbsp;his son, and she bears him a fine family of two daughters and four sons.

Another poem (No. 5) in the same collection ends in a way which is more to be expected. A mother boasts over her child, called Dijan, thatnbsp;when he grows up he will deprive the emperor of his kingdom. She isnbsp;overheard, and the story proceeds as before. The child is shut up innbsp;prison ; and after nine years the emperor sends his servants to bring outnbsp;his bones. They find Dijan praying and the prison brightly lighted. Henbsp;tells them that God has given him bread, Marija wine, and that St Peternbsp;has taught him to write. Then the emperor orders him to be burned tonbsp;death; but angels fly down from heaven and take Dijan back to heavennbsp;with them. The poem ends with the reflection that God is more powerfulnbsp;than all emperors.

It can hardly be doubted that these poems originated in ecclesiastical circles. But the ending of No. 5 is obviously more appropriate than thatnbsp;of No. 2. The marriage of a Christian girl, who is evidently verynbsp;religious, with a Mohammedan prince, after angels have intervened tonbsp;save her, is not an ending which would appeal to religious circles. Itnbsp;would seem then that No. 2 has changed its sphere of currency andnbsp;assumed its present form in circles which were little concerned withnbsp;religion. Such changes, even from Christian to Turkish circles ornbsp;vice versa, are not very rare (cf. p. 399).

Here also we may take a poem from Karadzic�s collection, n. No. 3. A deacon named Stevan goes out early on Sunday morning to work innbsp;the fields. He meets two old tramps, who ask him what he is doing onnbsp;the holy day. Is he out of his mind, or has he become a Turk.^ He repliesnbsp;that he is forced to work by sore necessity, owing to his helpless family.nbsp;He has nine dumb and nine blind children; and God will forgive his sin.nbsp;Then the tramps go to his house, where they find his wife preparingnbsp;bread. They ask her the same question, and she gives them the samenbsp;answer. Then they ask her to give them a male child out of its golden�nbsp;cradle. They will kill it and draw blood from its flesh, to sprinkle thenbsp;house. All that are dumb will be able to speak, and all that are blind ablenbsp;to see. After some hesitation she consents to give it up; and they do asnbsp;they had said. Then the rest of the children are able to speak and see.nbsp;The tramps now take their departure; but the wife turns round and seesnbsp;her child sitting in its cradle, playing with a golden apple. It tells hernbsp;that the strangers were not really old tramps but angels of God. Thenbsp;moral of this poem is not very obvious to us; but we see no reason fornbsp;doubting that it originated in religious circles.

Type D of this category occurs, so far as we know, only in songs (folksongs) which belong to social or domestic ritual. Vol. i of Karad-zi�s collection contains numerous poems of this type; and a number ofnbsp;translated specimens will be found in Eisner�s Volkslieder der Slawen. Itnbsp;may be observed that none of the Croatian poems contained in the latternbsp;book, with one possible exception (p. 333), belong properly to Type D.�nbsp;But this would seem to be due to accident; for several of them presuppose the existence of such poems, and one or two are very close tonbsp;Serbian examples of this type. The book also contains examples fromnbsp;other Slavonic languages.

The Serbian examples consist of cradle-songs or lullabies (p. 351 f.), wedding songs (p. 390 ff.) and elegies or dirges (p. 415 if.). Of thenbsp;wedding songs 3 three or four seem to belong to TypeD�i.e. they havenbsp;a form which would be appropriate to the occasion�and these are allnbsp;quite short. The elegies are all of this type. The two last seem to have anbsp;form identical with that of Darinka�s elegy for Prince Danilo, noticednbsp;on p. 336.

� A good example of the meaningless use of this word�which is extremely frequent (cf. p. 404).

� The majority of Karadzic�s poems seem to come from the southern part of the Adriatic coast, especially Risan and its neighbourhood.

IN this subject we shall follow the same scheme of classification as in Vol. I, Ch. x; but it must be confessed at the outset that thenbsp;evidence we have been able to collect under the various headingsnbsp;is meagre and disappointing. This is due in part to the defects of ournbsp;own information and of the records accessible to us. But we doubt verynbsp;much whether material comparable with what is found in the ancientnbsp;literatures exists in Yugoslavia. In all countries where Christianity ornbsp;Islam prevails, in anything more than name, there is an educated classnbsp;with a written literature, whether in the native or some other language;nbsp;and the learning of the nation tends to be concentrated in this class. Innbsp;Ireland and the North, it is true, the traditional unwritten learning wasnbsp;able to maintain itself independently for some time. But the Yugoslavsnbsp;had been Christians for several centuries before the earliest date tonbsp;which their native traditions refer; and there seems to be no trace of thenbsp;survival of any such native learning or of a class of persons devotednbsp;thereto. The activities of their intellectual men had been devoted tonbsp;ecclesiastical literature and, later, to some extent (in the west) to that ofnbsp;the Renaissance. We are not concerned with these activities, but with thenbsp;learning, such as it was, of the mass of the population which remainednbsp;illiterate�not wholly uninfluenced by ecclesiastical learning, butnbsp;apparently without any inherited native learning comparable with whatnbsp;is found in ancient literatures.

I. We have not met with any genealogies;� but this may well be due to the defectiveness of our information. We should be surprised tonbsp;learn that genealogies are not preserved in any part of Yugoslavia. Arenbsp;they ever preserved in metrical form It would seem not to be the customnbsp;to introduce genealogies in narrative poems or poems of Type B.

II. Catalogues are not of a very rare occurrence in heroic poetry; but they are usually quite short. The most frequent type consists of an

* Except in Orbini�s work, which was published in i6oi. Most of these are quite short.

408 enumeration of the guests present at a banquet or wedding. As examples we may cite the lists of guests at Lazar�s banquet before the battlenbsp;of Kosovo (Karadzic, ii. No. 50, i�),� and at the marriages of Djuronbsp;of Smeredevo (jb. No. 79) and of Stojan Popovic (ib. No. 87). Similarnbsp;enumerations occur in the latest poems, e.g. the list of Montenegrinnbsp;heroes drinking together in Karadzi�, v. 14 {ad init.'). A short, but quitenbsp;unhistorical, catalogue of the leaders and forces engaged at the battle ofnbsp;Kosovo occurs ib. n. 46 (cf. p. 314); but it has nothing to do with thenbsp;first part of the poem.

In poems which are not heroic, catalogues seem to occur rather more frequently. Karadzic, ii. No. i contains a short list of saints (cf. p. 392),nbsp;No. 2 a slightly longer list. One short poem � consists of little more thannbsp;a catalogue of churches and monasteries founded by the early kings ofnbsp;Serbia. Similar catalogues are contained in Karadzic, 11. Nos. 35, 36 andnbsp;37. It would seem that the song sung in Karadzic, n. No. 38 (28 fF.) 3nbsp;by Marko Kraljevic�s companion�Milos in this version�when he isnbsp;attacked by the Vila (cf. p. 377), is a poem of this kind. We may alsonbsp;compare the long catalogue of substances out of which St Pantelija isnbsp;formed (cf. p. 395).

III. Speculations on the origin of personal names are found occasionally. We have seen (p. 379 f.) that Milos� original surname Kobiloviiis explained more than once by a story that he had been born or sucklednbsp;by a mare {kobila'). The name of Vuk the Fiery Dragon seems to havenbsp;been prolific in producing such speculations. In one story (cf. p. 322)nbsp;he is bom with wolf�s hair upon his head�the word vuk means �wolf�nbsp;�and with flames darting from his mouth and nose. It is very probablenbsp;also that the story of his fight with the dragon of Jastrebac {ib.} arosenbsp;from some similar speculation.

We have not observed any such speculations upon place-names; but we are not prepared to say they are not to be found. In Bogosi�, Nos. 59nbsp;(83 ff.) and 60 (93 ff.) it is stated that the spring at which Don Karlo�snbsp;followers were slaughtered (cf. p. 351) has ever since been called �thenbsp;grave of the Spaniards�. But this may be an authentic tradition. At allnbsp;events the name is doubtless a reminiscence of the time when thenbsp;Spaniards occupied Castelnuovo.

' A longer form of this list is to be found in Karadzic, ii. No. 36, which can hardly be regarded as a heroic poem.

Traditions or speculations relating to the origin of secular buildings seem to be of less frequent occurrence. We may instance �The Wallingnbsp;of Skadar� and the story of the building of the bridge at Visegrad (cf.nbsp;p. 344 f.). The former seems to be a purely imaginative work; but thenbsp;latter is based on authentic tradition, so far as the main fact is concerned,nbsp;though it has been treated imaginatively. It may be observed that thenbsp;immuring of human beings is involved in both cases.

But the speech of Heaven has affinities in a different class of poems, as we have seen (p. 392 f.); and it is possible that the dialogue as a wholenbsp;owes its inspiration ultimately to an ecclesiastical source, analogousnbsp;perhaps to the �debates� found in the West.

Gnomes seem not to be of frequent occurrence in naTodne pjesme-, but we meet with them occasionally at the end of poems. As an examplenbsp;we may cite Karadzic, i. 313, a short timeless-nameless poem of Type B,nbsp;in which a girl is speaking of her love troubles : � Wealth consists neithernbsp;in silver nor in gold, but rather in what is dear to one.� Poems alsonbsp;which celebrate successes gained over bands of Turks or other enemiesnbsp;sometimes end with a gnomic reflection upon the presumption or follynbsp;of the beaten enemy.

We have not found any poems consisting wholly of gnomes, nor even any lists of gnomes in what can properly be regarded as narodne pjesme.nbsp;Short �gnomic-descriptive� lists are not unknown, as answers to riddles.nbsp;An instance occurs in Karadzic, i. 285, a short timeless-nameless poem,nbsp;where a girl is sitting on the seashore and talking to herself. She asksnbsp;herself: �Is there anything broader than the sea, or longer than the land,nbsp;or swifter than a horse, or sweeter than honey, or dearer than a brother.^ �nbsp;A fish in the water replies: �The sky is broader than the sea, the seanbsp;longer than the land, eyes swifter than a horse, sugar sweeter thannbsp;honey, a lover dearer than a brother.� Norse and Irish examples ofnbsp;such riddle catalogues have been noticed in Vol. i, p. 414; in Russian,nbsp;as we have seen (p. 212), they are more common. They are of coursenbsp;closely related to gnomes of the variety which applies to beings othernbsp;than human (Type ii (c); cf. Vol. i, p. 377 ff.).

Poems of a wholly descriptive character, such as we noticed in Vol. i. Ch. XIII, seem to be somewhat unusual; but very many poems beginnbsp;with a short descriptive passage. A favourite opening for timeless-nameless poems is to speak of a pine, beneath which something happensnbsp;or some persons are sitting. Less frequently poems begin with a shortnbsp;description of dawn or moonlight. In longer narrative poems thenbsp;�inverted simile� is a not infrequent opening. Thus in Karadzic, v. 9,nbsp;the poet begins by stating that a beautiful rosetree was growing in thenbsp;city of Trieste. Then he goes on to say that this was not a rosetree butnbsp;Darinka, the daughter of Jovan Kvekic�whose marriage with Prince

Danilo is the subject of the poem. This kind of opening is common also in Russian, as we have seen (p. 72 f.).

As instances of poems which are wholly descriptive we may cite two examples from Eisner�s Volkslieder der Slawen, the originals of which wenbsp;have not seen. One (p. 357 f.) gives short descriptions of a (typical)nbsp;married and unmarried man. The former is described as easy to recognise. His moustache is unkempt, his hair in a mess. As he walks along,nbsp;he looks straight before him with bent head, as if he had lost a preciousnbsp;ring. The unmarried is still easier to recognise. His moustache is curled,nbsp;his hair trimmed. As he walks along he glances in all directions. Tonbsp;right and left he looks up at the windows, like a hawk circling over anbsp;wood, to see if there is any prey to be got.

The other (z3. p. 338) describes a tom-cat lying at rest on a windowsill and blinking his yellow eyes. His sister comes and asks him what is the matter. He says that women have been slandering him for eatingnbsp;their cheese�which he has never seen, even in a dream. All he willnbsp;admit is that he has been creeping along the pantry shelves and findingnbsp;something there�which may have been cheese or anything else�whichnbsp;he liked the taste of.

Spell-poems are hardly as much in evidence as one would have expected ; for such poetry is evidently cultivated by both the Bulgarians and the Slovenians,^ and prose spells are known among the Yugoslavsnbsp;themselves.� The fact that we have not found any satisfactory examplesnbsp;of such poetry may be due in part to the defectiveness of our information. But it is rather curious that among the ^enske pjesme contained innbsp;Karadzic�s collection (Vol. i) we have noticed�even among the lullabiesnbsp;and spinning songs�hardly anything in the form of a spell.

We may cite one short narrative poem, apparently of Mohammedan provenance, in Eisner�s collection {pp.cit. p. 388 f.). A widower, callednbsp;Ali, meets two girls. Huma and Emina, who mock him. When he comesnbsp;home, he writes out three spells, one of which he throws into water, andnbsp;another into the fire, while he lays the third under his pillow. All are tonbsp;the same effect�that the senses of the proud Emina are to be carriednbsp;away, or burnt, or lulled to sleep, so as to make her come to his house atnbsp;midnight, clad in nothing but her shift.

Curses are very common; but as a rule they amount to no more than wishes for bad luck. They occur most frequently in short poems dealingnbsp;with lovers, e.g. Karadzic, I. 443, where a youth curses a girl who has

proved faithless to him. May she never marry! and if she does, may she never have a male child !

Prophecies and forebodings of misfortune are of frequent occurrence in all periods. Usually, but not always, they take the form of dreams.nbsp;In Bogisic, No. 29, the death of King Vladislav is proclaimed before thenbsp;walls of Buda by a � white Vila of the mountains �. In modem poems wenbsp;find political prophecies which speak of the reunion of the Yugoslavsnbsp;(and other Christian peoples) and the expulsion of the Turks. The mostnbsp;striking example of this kind is the �Lament of the Dragon on thenbsp;Lovcen� (Karadzic, v. 17); cf. p. 334 f.

In this chapter, as in Ch. vii, we have made no attempt to give more than a very cursory notice of the short timeless-nameless poems included among ^enske. pjesme. Many of them, though not all, are properlynbsp;folksongs, and to deal adequately with these would require a widernbsp;knowledge of folksongs in general than we possess. We suspect thatnbsp;poetry of this kind has more than any other in common with the similarnbsp;poetry of neighbouring, and indeed even of more distant, peoples�innbsp;short that it is specially open to external influence.

IN the preceding chapters we have frequently had occasion to refer to variant versions of poems. These exist in very great numbers.nbsp;They are a natural and indeed inevitable result of the manner innbsp;which narodne pjesme are preserved and recited, as we shall see in thenbsp;next chapter. Sometimes the variations are quite slight; thus in some ofnbsp;the Perast poems the variations are hardly more than verbal, thoughnbsp;there is a change of metre (cf. p. 3 51). In other cases the differences arenbsp;so great that we may be in doubt whether we have to do with variantnbsp;versions of a common original or with poems of independent origin,nbsp;though they may relate to the same event. Sometimes again it may benbsp;suspected that poems which show partial resemblances may be of independent origin but subsequently influenced by one another.

We will begin with a detailed analysis of two modern Montenegrin heroic poems (Karadzic, iv. 57 f.), which are obviously derived from anbsp;common original. They describe the death of the powerful Turkishnbsp;nobleman Cengijc Smail Aga in the year 1840. The story therefore hadnbsp;not had a long history. No. 57 was sent to Karadzic in 1846. We are notnbsp;told when he received No. 58; but this volume was published in 1862.nbsp;It may be mentioned here that the next poem. No. 59, which is very short,nbsp;relates to the same event; but it seems to be unconnected with the others.nbsp;On the other hand Karadzic (p. 502, note) says that he had four morenbsp;poems on the story, all of which differed very little from No. 57.

1-104. Letter of Djoko Malovic^ to Smail Aga. He charges (ii ff.) certain leading men {bans} of his district, Drobnjak (Drobnjaci)nbsp;in Hercegovina, with disloyalty�namely Novica Cerovic, Mirkonbsp;Damjanovic and Sujo Karadzic. They have been to the bishop atnbsp;Cetinje, complaining of Smail Aga�s tyranny. Their speech is givennbsp;in 24-52; the bishop�s reply in 54-66. The bishop says he willnbsp;reward anyone who brings Smail Aga�s head; but he makes nonbsp;reference to the battle of Grahovo. 67-89. The three bans make anbsp;solemn vow to kill Smail Aga. 90-104. Djoko advises Smail Aganbsp;to come to Drobnjak with a small army and take them by surprise.

123-140. Letter of Smail Aga to Ali Pasha at Mostar, asking him to send his son Miralaj with a hundred picked horsemen.

141-170. Smail Aga writes to Ahmet Bauk at Niksic, asking him to bring troops to his assistance.

318-323. Hypothetical speech of Smail Aga upon seeing Sujo; he will charge him with intriguing with the bishop. 325-340. Suggested reply of �ujo, protesting loyalty, offering to collect tribute,nbsp;and charging Djoko with lying.

358-362. Speech of Djoko (just before Su jo arrives), urging the destruction of the bans.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Sujo surprises them both by

374-379. Speech of Smail Aga to Sujo, identical with 318-323. 381-394. Reply of Sujo, more or less identical with 325-340.

395-426. Smail Aga believes Sujo. They set offquot; to Smail Aga�s camp together; and then, at Sujo�s suggestion, move on to Mleticak.nbsp;419-423. Speech of Sujo, asking for tobacco and persuading Smailnbsp;Aga to let him keep guard on a mountain.

427-447. Sujo addresses his men (speech 430-440), calling for a volunteer to summon Mirko and Novica.

448-471. Novica is debating with his men (speech 454-459), when the messenger arrives.

472-492. Novica assembles three hundred and eighty men, holds a religious service (speech 485-488), and joins Sujo on the mountainnbsp;by night.

493-524. The night is cold and wet. A priest�s wife comes to Smail Aga and warns him (506-509). He says he has no fear of Vlahs (511�nbsp;517), and ill-uses her. She curses him (522-524).

526-545. A Hodza (Mohammedan priest) comes to warn Smail Aga (531-533); but the latter repeats (535-539) that he has no fear, andnbsp;ill-uses him. The Hodza curses him (544 f.).

546-559. The day is now breaking; and Mirko and Novica advise that they should wait until the following night (549-5 54). But Sujo saysnbsp;he will attack at once (557-559).

560-582. They attack the camp. The Aga calls to his groom Martin for his horse (576); but the latter says (578 f.) that they have taken it.nbsp;Then he mounts the groom�s horse.

583-599. Men say he could have escaped. But he turned his horse and drew his sword, to make a fight. Mirko shoots him and cuts offquot;nbsp;his head.

600-614. Novica and Sujo cut off the heads of other leading Turks. In all they take eighty heads. Then they make off to Cetinje andnbsp;present Smail Aga�s head and horse to the king (bishop), whonbsp;rewards them well.

1-126. Djoko Malovic writes to Smail Aga, accusing (ii ff.) nine leading men of disloyalty, among them Novica Cerovic, Mirkonbsp;Damjanovic, Sujo Karadzic, and a priest named Golovic, whonbsp;writes letters for them to the bishop��lso called king�atnbsp;Cetinje. Novica also has visited the bishop, charging Smail Aganbsp;with tyranny. 34-58. Speech of Novica to the bishop. 61-105.nbsp;Reply of the bishop. He speaks at length on the battle of Grahovonbsp;and the death of his nephew Stefan, for which he desires vengeance. 108-110. Reply of Novica, promising vengeance.nbsp;113-126. Advice of Djoko to Smail Aga to come with small armynbsp;to Drobnjak.

134-168. Letter of Smail Aga to the Vizier Sto�evic, asking him to send his son Miralaj with six hundred Turks.

169-178. Smail Aga writes to Amet Bank at Niksic, asking him to bring men of the garrison to his assistance.

202-221. Smail Aga marches to the castle of Djoko Malovic. 222-230. Sujo hears of his arrival and sets off to see him.

231-249. Smail Aga is conversing with Djoko, who advises him (235-249) to arrest Novica and Sujo, to put the priest Golovic to the lash and cut off his right hand, and to fine the other leaders.

2 5 0-2 5 6. Suj o arrives in time to overhear this speech, and salutes the Aga. 257-284. Conversation of Sujo with Smail Aga, who (258-260)nbsp;charges him with disloyalty. 262-266. Sujo denies the charge andnbsp;accuses Djoko of lying. 268 f. Smail Aga enquires about Novica.nbsp;$ujo replies that he is at his home and has been collectingnbsp;tribute for him. Smail Aga replies (279) that Novica is to go tonbsp;Poscenje. 280 ff. Sujo offers to prepare quarters for the Aga at hisnbsp;own home (Petnic) ; and the Aga assents.

285-298. Sujo returns home and writes an urgent letter (291-298) to Novica, telling him to come to Drobnjak.

299-305. Novica, on receiving the letter, calls his cousin Sekuo; and they set off to Drobnjak.

306-320. They find Sujo weeping. He tells them that Smail Aga has cruelly beaten the priest Golovic.

321-329. Novica vows vengeance, and proposes that they should start for Pos�enje.

330-341. They come to Smail Aga at Poscenje. Sujo kisses the Aga�s hand; but Novica merely scowls. The Aga asks him (339 ff.) whynbsp;he is acting thus.

342-372. Speech of Novica. He is angry because the Aga has doubted his loyalty and ill-used the priest. He has not been able to collectnbsp;the tribute; the peasants threatened him. He reports a speech henbsp;had made to them (365-368), asking them to wait till he has seennbsp;Smail Aga. Is he to take their cattle.^

378-397. Novica offers to meet him on the morrow at Mleticak. When the peasants see the army they will pay. The Aga is to cut off hisnbsp;head if he does not act loyally.

406�425. Novica goes home and writes letters to Mina Radovic (413� 417) and Mirko Damjanovic (421-425), calling upon them tonbsp;bring their men at once, in order to avenge the Petrovici (thenbsp;bishop�s relatives).

426-445. Novica assembles his own men; and when the others arrive they set out for Mleticak. In the meantime the Turks arrive there.

446-461. Novica�sforceisobservedbyJelez,aTurkishcaptain, who runs to the Aga�s tent and warns him that Novica is acting treacherously.

417 462-475. Sujo dissuades the Aga from believing the news, and asks himnbsp;to give him forty irregulars, with whom he will go and keepnbsp;watch. Smail Aga declares (470-475) that Novica will not betraynbsp;him, and gives Sujo fifty irregulars�men of Drobnjak.

476-492. Sujo sets out and joins Novica. They decide to attack from the mountain Ivica; and they rest there for a time before doing so.nbsp;493-515. The Aga is preparing his coffee when the Serbians make anbsp;sudden attack. No details are given; but it is stated that Novicanbsp;slew Smail Aga and Mirko cut off his head. In all a hundred andnbsp;forty Turkish heads are taken, including those of forty Bezi; alsonbsp;a hundred horses and a large amount of booty.

516-529. They bring the heads of Cengijc and the Bezi to Cetinje. The king rewards them and promotes Novica (speech 525-527).

We have analysed these poems at some length, primarily for the purpose of illustrating the growth of variants. At the same time it isnbsp;hoped that the analysis may serve to give the reader some impression ofnbsp;the construction of a class of poems, hardly any of which have beennbsp;translated into English. It will be seen that, although they were composed so soon after the events which they recount, they are true heroicnbsp;epics. They are quite short; but the sequence of events is treated in anbsp;well constructed scheme, with imaginative details and frequent changesnbsp;of scene and personnel, as in the Iliad. They conform in all respects tonbsp;the table of characteristics common to Greek and English heroic narrativenbsp;poetry set forth in Vol. i, p. 20 ff. ; and they furnish conclusive evidencenbsp;against the view that such poetry must be of literary origin. It may benbsp;added that these two poems possess no exceptional features, though theynbsp;are good specimens of their class.

We have spoken of �poems�; but the use of the plural is hardly correct. They are obviously variants derived from one original, thoughnbsp;they have scarcely a single whole line in common, apart from staticnbsp;formulae. It will be seen that the divergencies in substance are comparatively slight at first, but increase as the poems proceed. Both beginnbsp;with a long letter from Djoko Malo vic to Smail Aga; and the substancenbsp;of the letter is the same in both cases. In both this letter is followed bynbsp;three shorter letters from Smail Aga to the Turkish authorities at Mostar, Niksic and Kolasin, though there is a difference in the name of thenbsp;first of these. Then in both poems Sujo Karadzic comes to visit thenbsp;Aga at Djoko�s house; but in No. 57 he does so after discussion withnbsp;Novica and at the suggestion of the latter, whereas in No. 58 he acts on

his own initiative. In both cases he arrives in time to overhear Djoko advising the Aga to take strong measures against him and his confederates; and in both he protests that Djoko is lying. The chiefnbsp;divergence begins after this. In No. 58 Sujo summons Novica by letter;nbsp;Novica comes himself to see Smail Aga, and from this point (299 �F.) tonbsp;the end of the poem the action practically follows his movements. Butnbsp;in No. �7 Novica does not come to see the Aga; Sujo summons him�nbsp;not for discussion, but to take action�after he has left the Aga. Thenbsp;rest of the poem is concerned more with Smail Aga than with Novica,nbsp;who is not specially prominent. The fight is described in much greaternbsp;detail.

The chief difference between the poems lies in the treatment of Novica. In both he is perhaps regarded as the most important of Smailnbsp;Aga�s enemies ; and this may be historical fact. But in the older poemnbsp;(No. 57) he is less prominent than Sujo. It is Mirko, not Novica, whonbsp;kills the Aga; and no hero is mentioned individually in the account ofnbsp;the reception by the bishop at the end. In No. 58 we seem to see thenbsp;�development� of a hero. Novica has now become the most prominentnbsp;figure in the story, except perhaps the Aga himself. He has taken overnbsp;the chief share in the interviewing of the Aga. It is he too who killsnbsp;the Aga, though Mirko gets his head. And the honours awarded bynbsp;the bishop are directed primarily to him.

Of other features peculiar to one or other of the poems we may notice first the motif of the bishop�s blood-feud in No. 58 (66 ff.), tonbsp;which there is an implicit reference also at the end of the poem. Karadzic believed this to be the true cause of Smail Aga�s death (cf. p. 370).nbsp;The priest Golovic and his cruel treatment at the hands of the Aganbsp;are also peculiar to this poem. On the other hand No. 57 introducesnbsp;several minor incidents just before the final tragedy. The visits of thenbsp;priest�s wife and of the Hodza and the curses uttered by them look likenbsp;rhetorical devices introduced in order to lead up to the climax. But wenbsp;have no means of determining what elements are unhistorical, apartnbsp;from the discrepancies between the two narratives.�

For the discrepancies noticed above analogies are to be found in other modem poems (Karadzic, v. 12 f.) on the Sack of Kolasin. In No. 12nbsp;there are three leaders in the attack�^Novica Cerovic, Milan the Serdarnbsp;and Dimitrij the Archimandrite�all of whom are about equallynbsp;� Karadzic (p. 461) says he had heard that it was really an Orthodox priest {pop)nbsp;who gave the warning to Smail Aga.

419 prominent. But in No. 13 the Archimandrite is ignored. Novica andnbsp;Miljan (Milan) are the chief figures, though several others are more ornbsp;less important.

The relationship between these poems is not the same as the relationship between the poems (iv. 57 f.) on the death of Smail Aga. There are common elements, e.g. in the opening scene, which suggest that one ofnbsp;them has been influenced by the other. But they can hardly be regardednbsp;as variants derived from a common original�the differences are toonbsp;great. Nevertheless such a discrepancy as the one mentioned above isnbsp;worth noting, because both poems must have originated very soon afternbsp;the event. Kolasin was sacked in 1858; and the volume in which theynbsp;are contained was published in 1865.

Next we will consider poems which relate to earlier times. In this case it will be convenient to take a text preserved in an early MS. and comparenbsp;it with a text of the same poem contained in one of the later collections.nbsp;Bogisic�s edition presents a good number of examples available for thisnbsp;purpose, though it also contains many poems which are not to be found,nbsp;so far as we are aware, in any modern collections. The example we willnbsp;take is a bugarstica (Bogisic, No. i), which we have had occasion tonbsp;notice before (p. 315). It is preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS.,nbsp;and belongs to the group of poems supplied by Jodzo Betondic, whonbsp;died in 1764; and it relates to the battle of Kosovo:

1-9. Busic Stjepan bids his wife rise from her bed and open the windows, so that the light of dawn may brighten the house. He asks hernbsp;whether the morning star has risen. Are the drums beating innbsp;front of Lazar�s palace.^ Are the nobles assembling there

10-24. She does as he bids, and tells him (20-24) that the day is breaking and that she hears the sounds of the army�repeatingnbsp;his words.

25-32. He rises, and bids her awaken his squire Oliver and tell him to saddle the horses and get ready the requisites for war�so that henbsp;may not be left behind by the army of Lazar, the Hungarian noblesnbsp;and the brothers Ugovici.

33-40. She begs him not to go to war this day. She has had a grievous dream, in which she saw a falcon ffying from the house, andnbsp;coming back without its head.

45-49. Jela, his wife, then goes to awaken Oliver, and repeats to him (47-49) her husband�s instructions.

50-58. Oliver carries out the instructions. Stj epan and he mount their horses and arrive at Lazar�s palace. In front of the palace they meetnbsp;many Hungarian nobles, and exchange greetings with them.

59 if. Milica comes to a window to greet the nobles. There is no further reference to Stjepan Busic. Milica talks with Milos Kobilovic.

99 ff. Milica begs Lazar to leave one of the Ugovici, her brothers, behind with her; but he refuses.

115 ff. Lazar, having arrived at Kosovo, gives a banquet to his chiefs, at which he accuses Milos.

1-5. Musi� Stevan is drinking wine in his house at Maj dan. His squire Vaistina is serving him.

6-28. He says he is going to bed ; and he tells his squire to help himself to wine and watch for the dawn, when they must start for Kosovo.nbsp;He repeats (21-28) the solemn curse pronounced by the princenbsp;upon any Serbian who should fail to go to the battle (cf. p. 366).

29-51. Vaistina watches for the dawn; and when he sees signs of it he fetches and saddles two horses. He also brings a standard, uponnbsp;which are worked twelve golden crosses and the portrait ofnbsp;St John, Stevan�s patron saint. Then he ascends the tower tonbsp;awaken his lord.

52-63. Stevan�s wife meets him and begs him not to wake her husband. She says she has had an evil dream, in which she has seen twonbsp;falcons followed by a swarm of doves flying from the house.nbsp;They flew to Kosovo and came down in Murat�s camp; but theynbsp;did not rise again.

64-85. The squire answers that he cannot act disloyally to his lord. He repeats (76-83) the curse pronounced by the prince.

89-103. Stevan rises, washes and dresses. He drinks a draught of wine to the glory of God. Then they mount their horses, unfurl thenbsp;standards, beat the drums, and set out.

104-147. The day has dawned when they arrive at Kosovo. They meet a girl who is carrying a warrior�s helmet; and Stevan asks hernbsp;where she has found it. She replies that she has picked it out of the

� The first part of this poem is transi, by Morison in Subotic, Yugoslav Popular Ballads, p. 58 if.

river, which was full of the bodies and accoutrements of warriors. Then Stevan realises that he has arrived too late, and that thenbsp;prince�s curse has fallen upon him.

148-169 (end). Stevan gives a present to the girl and hastens on to the Turkish camp, where he makes a great slaughter, but eventuallynbsp;perishes with his squire and a vast number of his troops�whonbsp;have not been mentioned before.

There can be no question that the first parts of these two poems are variants derived from a common original. The relationship betweennbsp;them is naturally less close than between two variants which are more ornbsp;less contemporary with the events, like the poems on the death of Smailnbsp;Aga. But the fact of the relationship is clear from the general course ofnbsp;the narrative, and in particular from the wife�s dream. It may also benbsp;observed that, so far as we know, Stjepan Busic (Stevan Music) is notnbsp;mentioned elsewhere.� We do not know whether he has been identifiednbsp;from historical records.

The common element ends with the hero�s departure from his home (54 in Bogisic�s text, 103 in Karadzic�s text). The earlier text now bringsnbsp;him to Lazar�s palace, where he exchanges salutations with the nobles.nbsp;After this he drops out of the story; the rest of the poem is concernednbsp;with Milica, Lazar and Milos. The later text continues the story of Stevan;nbsp;but it brings him to the battle direct, not to Lazar�s palace. He arrivesnbsp;too late, and believes he has incurred the prince�s curse.

We do not think that the curse is ancient, at least in its present form (cf. p. 368) ; yet it is difficult to doubt that the continuation of Karadzic�s text has a better claim to represent the original than the continuation of Bogisic�s text. In the latter Stjepan�s story is left incomplete�nbsp;indeed it can hardly be called a story at all. What follows in the poemnbsp;has nothing to do with Stjepan. The next section leads up to Milica�snbsp;request that one of her brothers should be spared to stay behind withnbsp;her. This forms the subject of a separate poem (ii. No. 45) in Karadzic�snbsp;collection, though apart from the possession of the same motif the twonbsp;pieces have hardly anything in common. The following section (i 15 ff.),nbsp;dealing with the banquet, seems to be a variant of a third poem (n.nbsp;No. 50, iii)�described as a fragment�in Karadzic�s collection, thoughnbsp;the resemblance is not very close. The last section (145 ff.) is concerned

' From Karadzic, ii. p. 298, it would seem that a saga relating to him is (or was) in existence. But we have not seen this, and do not know whether it is independent of the poem.

with events which we have not seen treated at length in any later poem/ But these events were very famous; and it is difficult to believe thatnbsp;poems upon them were composed only in Dalmatia. In any case it maynbsp;be noted that the bugar^ica treats seriatim, in a connected narrative, anbsp;number of subjects which elsewhere are the themes of different poems,nbsp;and that these poems stand in various degrees of relationship, sometimesnbsp;near, sometimes remote, to the bugarstica.

As regards the relative faithfulness of the two traditions, the bugar-stica frequently betrays the remoteness of its place of origin (Ragusa). It mentions only two geographical names, Kosovo and (the river)nbsp;Marica; and the latter is a mistake for Sitnica, presumably owing tonbsp;confusion with Vukasin�s disaster. The use of the name �Hungarian�nbsp;is probably a reminiscence of the political conditions which prevailednbsp;during the fifteenth century. The name Oliver is doubtless due to thenbsp;influence of the Romances, which were not unknown on the Adriaticnbsp;seaboard. Features connected with the Orthodox Church, which arenbsp;rather prominent in Karadzic�s text (No. 47), do not appear in thenbsp;bugarhica�probably because they had no meaning for Catholics. Onnbsp;the other hand we do not believe that the curse in Karadzic�s text isnbsp;ancient. And if Stevan�s home was in the neighbourhood of Pozarevac,�nbsp;the hero�s feat of arriving at Kosovo soon after daybreak shows annbsp;ignorance of geography almost equal to that of the bugarhica.

These details, however, are less important than the question whether we are to regard the bugarhica (Bogisic, No. i), as an �epic� formed bynbsp;stringing together a number of originally separate �lays�. The alternative explanation�viz. that Karadzic�s poems were originally portions ofnbsp;a disintegrated epic�is improbable; for thegreatmajority of Yugoslavnbsp;heroic poems deal with single events, and possess a unity which isnbsp;lacking to this bugarhica. There are exceptions, like Karadzic, ii. No. 46,nbsp;the first part of which is religious heroic (cf. p. 314) while the second isnbsp;a catalogue; but these may be explained in the same way. The stringingnbsp;together of poems would seem to present no serious difficulty, if one isnbsp;ready to sacrifice to some extent the principle of unity. We do not ofnbsp;course mean to suggest that the poet 3 or minstrel responsible for our

* Two (or three) poems on the subject are in existence; but they are said to be not independent of literary influence.

� Cf. Karadzic, ii. p. 298, note. The distance to Kosovo would be considerably over a hundred miles.

3 It may be suggested that the poem in its present form may be the work of Jodzo Betondic (cf. p. 446), from whom the Franciscan MS. obtained it, and whonbsp;was a learned man. But none of the other poems supplied by him seems to be of

423 bugarstica (Bogisid, No. i) as a whole proceeded like the scholars of lastnbsp;century who tried to construct, or �reconstruct�, an epic of Kosovo fromnbsp;published texts. He doubtless used the same freedom in the treatment ofnbsp;his materials as he was accustomed to do in treating any other poems innbsp;his repertoire.

Variants of a kind very different from those we have noticed above are to be found among the Perast poems discussed on p. 351 f. The textsnbsp;of the (irregular) decasyllabic poems contained in the later MS. are verynbsp;close to those of the bugarstice preserved in the earlier one, in spite ofnbsp;the change of metre. Sometimes indeed the two differ merely in phraseology. If the variants really come from oral tradition, the latter mustnbsp;have been much more rigid at Perast than elsewhere. But we find itnbsp;difficult to believe that this is the true explanation. The later texts are notnbsp;taken from the existing MS. of the bugarstice (cf. p. 351, note); but wenbsp;think they must be derived in some way or other from an earliernbsp;written text.

These remarks, however, are not true for all the cases. Thus in Bogisic, Nos. 73 f., the plan�the course of events portrayed�is thenbsp;same, and there are some close verbal resemblances; but in general thenbsp;details differ a good deal. The same is true of the latter parts of Nos. 65 f.,nbsp;which are concerned with the capture of Novi Grad by the Venetians innbsp;1687. But the first parts of these poems are quite different. The bugar-hica (No. 65) describes the gathering of the Venetians and their alliesnbsp;and the warnings sent to the city by the Ragusans of its impendingnbsp;danger. In place of this the decasyllabic poem (No. 66) relates how anbsp;girl of Novi Grad dreams that a violent storm falls upon the city, withnbsp;lightnings and flying snakes, and tells the dream to her brother�anbsp;motif which occurs in other poems. The evidence of these poems seemsnbsp;to point to oral tradition of a rather conservative character.

The chief interest of the Perast poems, on the formal side, lies in the change of metre. The effects of this can of course be seen most clearlynbsp;in those poems where there is little or no variation in substance. As annbsp;example of the changes in wording or phraseology we may take thenbsp;opening lines of Nos. 69 and 70. The former begins as follows:

composite character; and neither this nor any of the others, so far as we have observed, shows stylistic features which differentiate it from other bugarstice. Indeed it seems more likely that Betondic obtained his poems in writing; for in his daynbsp;(c. 1750) the composition of bugarstice was practically at an end. This question willnbsp;require notice again in the following chapter.

�A band of Turks set out from the small town of Risan, a town belonging to the emperor, and in command of them was the illustrious Isa of Risan. Andnbsp;they made their way into green Kostanjica, the warriors of Risan, to the whitenbsp;house of Nikola Dabovi�.�

Podize se Turska �eta mala, a od Risna mjesta malahnoga,nbsp;pred njima je Iza Risnjanine;nbsp;ter podjo�e ravnoj Kostanjici,nbsp;na dvorove Dabovi�-Nikole.

�A small Turkish band set out, even from the little town of Risan, and in command of them is Iza of Risan; and they made their way to level Kostanica,nbsp;to the house of Nikola Dabovi�.�

It may be observed that there is a tendency to reduce the number of static epithets.

Next we may consider certain parallels which are much less close. One may hesitate to treat stories as variants of one another when somenbsp;or all of the chief characters are different persons. Yet it is impossible tonbsp;doubt that �The Marriage of Vukasin� is a variant of Bogisic, No. 97,nbsp;a poem in irregular decasyllabic metre�from the Ragusa MS.�^whichnbsp;likewise tells the story of Momcilo and his faithless wife. The twonbsp;narratives are identical in substance. But Momcilo is the only name theynbsp;have in common. The faithful sister is called in one Jevrosima, in thenbsp;other Andzelija; but this may be merely a difference in name, thoughnbsp;Jevrosima is well known from other poems as the mother of Markonbsp;Kraljevic. More important, however, is the fact that the centr�t figurenbsp;in the story is in one poem a famous hero, King Vukasin, while in thenbsp;other he is a nameless ban from Germany. We do not know how thisnbsp;discrepancy is to be explained.

Vukasin is not unknown to the poetry of the Ragusa MS. elsewhere. Another decasyllabic poem (Bogisic, No. 85) is concerned with hisnbsp;marriage; but this is a wholly different story from the one just noticed.nbsp;He catches and marries a Vila�^an incident which elsewhere, as we havenbsp;� Transi, by Low, The Ballads of Marko KraljevH, p. i ff.; cf. p. 313, above.

425 seen (p. 312), is related of his son, Marko Kraljevic. In this case there isnbsp;no resemblance in detail. On the other hand the latter part of thisnbsp;�Marriage of Marko Kraljevic� bears a close resemblance to a hugarsticanbsp;(Bogisi�, No. 39), in which the hero is not Marko Kraljevic but Novak.nbsp;The story therefore is told of three different heroes; and two of thenbsp;poems which contain it are probably to be regarded, in part at least,' asnbsp;variants. Was it originally a timeless, nameless story�^perhaps a folktale.^

Such seems to be the case with another story relating to a Vila, which likewise forms the subject of a hugarstica (Bogisic, No. 43), and wasnbsp;noticed on p. 324 f., above. This Vila brings about the deaths of thenbsp;Jaksica, while they are still unmarried; and we pointed out (ib.) thatnbsp;it is inconsistent with most of the other poems relating to the Jaksica,nbsp;which are largely concerned with their wives. But the story has a closenbsp;parallel in the later poem �Mujo and Alija�, contained in Karadzic�snbsp;collection (it. No. ii) and noticed on p. 399, above. The latter isnbsp;practically a timeless, nameless poem. The resemblance between the twonbsp;poems, however, is hardly of such a character that they can strictly benbsp;regarded as variants, though they are concerned with what is substantially the same story.

Portions of heroic poems�or at least what appear to be such�sometimes show closer resemblances to timeless, nameless poems. We may refer here to two poems noticed on p. 383, which can hardly be regardednbsp;otherwise than as variants. In one (Bogisic, No. loi) the hero is anbsp;certain Sekuo; in the other (Karadzic, ii. No. 52) he is called Jurisicnbsp;Janko. The latter hero is unknown to us elsewhere; and both poemsnbsp;without doubt contain a large element of fiction. The point, however, tonbsp;which we would call attention is that the latter part of the story�fromnbsp;the point where the Sultan asks his prisoner what death he prefers�nbsp;occurs also in timeless, nameless poems. In one poem in the Maticanbsp;Hrvatska�s collection �i,etiske Pjestne, 11. No. 6) the hero is callednbsp;Marijan; he is the only person mentioned by name. In another (ib.nbsp;No. 4) we find practically the same storybut with a heroine, callednbsp;Mare of Zara, instead of a hero; and here again none of the othernbsp;characters are named. Both poems would seem to be variants, not only

� The beginning and the end of the story are wanting in the hugarstica. We suspect that this poem is incomplete�that the first part of the story, relating to thenbsp;capture of the Vila, has been omitted. But the end, as told in the Matica Hrvatska�snbsp;text, relating how the Vila was recaptured and then remained permanently withnbsp;Marko, may well be a later addition.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Cf. p. 401.

of one another, but also of the heroic (or quasi-heroic) poems just mentioned�so far as the latter part of these is concerned.

In such cases the heroic story may be derived from the timeless, nameless one�or, to speak more precisely, a timeless, nameless narrativenbsp;poem may have been adapted to a heroic milieu. There are other cases,nbsp;however, where heroes, even well known heroes, have had transferred tonbsp;them stories which seem originally to have been told of other persons.nbsp;We may instance a poem called � Milos among the Latins �, in Karadzic�snbsp;collection (ii. No. 37), noticed on p. 381, above. Practically the samenbsp;story is told in a (fragmentary) bugar'stica (Bogisic, No. 76), of a certain Ivan Voihnovic, a nephew of the Montenegrin prince Ivan Crno-jevic (cf. p. 353). Ivan Voihnovic is unknown to us apart from thisnbsp;poem; but he must have lived a century after Milos Obilic. Yet anbsp;comparison of the poems suggests that the bugarstica preserves annbsp;earlier form of the story, especially if Kotor was the scene from thenbsp;beginning. Against the absurd damage and slaughter recorded innbsp;Karadzic�s poem it describes an accident which might well havenbsp;happened. It is a narrative in verse of an adventure of local interest,nbsp;whereas Karadzic�s poem seems to represent a variant which hasnbsp;wandered into some Orthodox district, and in which the story has beennbsp;embellished, exaggerated, and transferred to a famous hero.

Lastly, it may be noted that heroic, or quasi-heroic, poems are occasionally derived in part from other poems of the same kind. Thusnbsp;the first parts of�The Marriage of Djuro of Smeredevo� (cf. p. 375) andnbsp;� The Marriage of Stojan Popovic� are obvious variants of one another.nbsp;The common element would seem to belong properly to the former, ifnbsp;we may judge from what follows. This case then differs from the onenbsp;discussed in the last paragraph; for Despot Djuro is a character wellnbsp;known both in poetry and history, whereas Stojan Popovic seems notnbsp;to be known except in this poem. Both poems alike, however, are fullnbsp;of anachronisms and may be regarded wholly as works of fiction.

Thus far we have been concerned with poems which must be regarded as, either wholly or in part, variants of one another, i.e. as derived from a common original, unless one is borrowed from the other,nbsp;as perhaps in the last case. Something, however, must be said herenbsp;with regard to poems which cannot be variants, but yet seem to havenbsp;been influenced by one another. Illustrations of this process were noted

� Karadzic, ii. No. 87. Both poems are transi, by Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevii, pp. 159 ff,, 168 fF.

427 in Vol. I, p. 512 fF.; and in Yugoslav narodne. pjesme examples may benbsp;expected to be frequent. But we must deal with this subject very briefly.

One probable instance has already been noticed (p. 376) in the two poems on the Sack of Kolasin (Karadzic, v. 12 f.). Both poems opennbsp;with a long conversation between Cerovic Novica and the Serdar Milan,nbsp;who are drinking wine together beside the white church in Moraca.nbsp;Neither the speeches themselves nor the descriptions of the events whichnbsp;follow have much in common; but there are certain passages whichnbsp;suggest influence. Thus in No. 12, 67 flquot;. Novica says he is ashamed tonbsp;meet the men of Cetinje because he has had no part in the battle ofnbsp;Grahovo, in which they won such glory; while in No. 13, 132 ff. thenbsp;same hero relates how his boasting has been stopped by Mirko, thenbsp;prince�s brother, who declared that the glory won by himself atnbsp;Grahovo was greater than any which Novica could claim.

It is in the opening scenes of poems that such influence seems to be most often traceable. Thus it can hardly be due to accident that the twonbsp;poems on the battle of Grahovo itself (Karadzic, v. 10 f.) both opennbsp;with a gathering of Turkish notables before the Sultan�s divan innbsp;Constantinople, though otherwise they have little in common. In suchnbsp;a case one may suspect that the author of one poem borrowed the motifnbsp;from the other, perhaps immediately after the events. On the other handnbsp;it is possible that both are based on common report or rumour.

A somewhat different case occurs in Karadzic, iv. 10 f. There is an obvious and close resemblance between the bishop�s speech in No. ii,nbsp;96 ff. and the latter part of the same bishop�s speech in No. 10, 110 IF.nbsp;Otherwise these poems have little in common, though they deal withnbsp;the same events�the war of the Montenegrins with Mahmut Pasha. Itnbsp;would seem therefore that either the original author or some laternbsp;reciter of one of the poems had incorporated in his piece words whichnbsp;he had heard in the recital of the other. Here again, however, there is ofnbsp;course an alternative possibility, viz. that the authors of both poems maynbsp;have recorded independently the words actually spoken by the bishopnbsp;on this occasion.�

We have yet to consider certain formal characteristics of the narodne. pjesme. Owing to the vast amount of material which has been publishednbsp;it is probable that no other country can supply greater opportunity for

� Karadzi� was inclined to think (p. 68, note) that both these poems were originally composed by the bishop, Peter I (St Peter), though they had been taken over and transformed by lay minstrels.

Studying the conventions observable in the structure of narrative poetry. Of this material we can of course make use of only an insignificantnbsp;fraction. We shall therefore confine our attention in general to modemnbsp;heroic poetry, with special reference to the conventions followed in thenbsp;beginnings of poems.

The majority of these poems are concerned with raids or invasions. Such is the case (e.g.) with thirteen of the eighteen poems contained innbsp;Vol. V of Karadzic�s collection. Of these thirteen poems four (Nos. 8,nbsp;12, 13, 14) begin with a sentence�varying in form�which states thatnbsp;two or more heroes are drinking wine together. The poem then goes onnbsp;to recount their conversation. Two other poems (Nos. 5,7) begin withnbsp;a statement that a certain person wrote a letter, the contents of whichnbsp;are given. No. 3 follows the same scheme, though it is preceded by thenbsp;date; and No. 2 is perhaps to be regarded as merely a more elaboratenbsp;variant of the same opening. Two poems (Nos. 4, 15) begin with complaints made by Turkish inhabitants or officials to their governors�andnbsp;recorded at length�about wrongs which they are suffering from thenbsp;Montenegrins. Two poems (Nos. 10,11), which are perhaps connected,nbsp;open with the summoning of a Turkish council in Constantinople,� thenbsp;proceedings at which are recounted in full. The remaining poemnbsp;begins with a statement that a white Vila cried out from a high mountain.nbsp;Her speech of warning follows.

Of the five poems which are not concerned with raids or invasions four begin with a religious formula�� Glory to God�, or �Dear God! anbsp;great marvel ! ��though the poems themselves are not religious. In twonbsp;cases (Nos. 9, 17) the formula is followed by an �inverted simile� (cf.nbsp;P- 334)-

All these openings recur elsewhere. Thus Vol. iv of the same collection contains sixty-two poems; and of these eleven begin with the wine-drinking scene and the conversation which follows. It is possiblynbsp;worth noting�though it may be mere accident�that this openingnbsp;seems to occur more frequently when the scene is laid in a Serbiannbsp;(Montenegrin) milieu; only in two cases are the drinkers Turks. Ninenbsp;poems in this volume begin with a letter-writing formula; and to thesenbsp;we may perhaps add one (No. 36) which varies somewhat from thenbsp;ordinary type. Only two poems (Nos. 10,5 5) begin with the council ofnbsp;Turks, and only one (No. 18) with a complaint like those in Vol. v. Onnbsp;the other hand three (Nos. 21,40,49) open with a message called out bynbsp;a Vila from a mountain, while in three others (Nos. 38, 43, 46) thisnbsp;* In No. IO this is preceded by the date.

429 opening follows the �dawn� formula, which we have to mention below.nbsp;The religious formulae' Glory to God�and �Dear God! a great marvel!�nbsp;occur six times. In one case (No. 37) an �inverted simile� follows.�nbsp;Vol. IV shows a number of openings which do not occur in Vol. v.nbsp;First we may note a statement that �Dawn had not yet grown pale,nbsp;neither had Danica (the Morning Star) shown her face, nor was therenbsp;any sign of day��or variants to the same effect�when something tooknbsp;place. In three poems this formula introduces the call of the Vila, asnbsp;noted above. In two others (Nos. 16, 34) it is used to indicate the earlynbsp;start of a hero or an army. Six poems (Nos. 2, 26, 30, 45, 52, 59) beginnbsp;with the arrival of two ravens, which deliver a message of death andnbsp;disaster to the wife or mother of a hero who has gone to battle. Thisnbsp;opening belongs properly to heroic poems of Type B, though the storynbsp;told by the ravens usually occupies the greater part of the poem. Amongnbsp;less frequent openings we may note the statements that a woman or girlnbsp;dreamed a dream, which is found in three poems (Nos. 12, 27, 56), andnbsp;that a small band of Turks set out from a certain place (cf. p. 424),nbsp;which occurs twice (Nos. 20, 22). Lastly, note may be taken of thenbsp;formula that someone is herding sheep, which appears in No. 47. Thisnbsp;opening is very common in timeless, nameless poetry.

Several of the typical scenes noticed above, especially the winedrinking, the complaint, and the arrival of the ravens, occur seldom, if ever, except at the beginning of poems, while others may be introducednbsp;later. Some of them again are capable of considerable expansion,nbsp;especially the debates and letters. Not unfrequently also we find a seriesnbsp;of such scenes following one another. By such processes the length of anbsp;poem may be greatly extended.

The first process may be illustrated by instances of the �call of the Vila�. Sometimes, as in Karadzic, v. 6 {ad init.'), the hero to whom shenbsp;calls proceeds to act at once, in response to her warning. Very often,nbsp;however, he disbelieves or disregards the warning, saying that he hasnbsp;complete confidence in his followers or allies. Then she will call again,nbsp;telling him that his confidence is misplaced. Sometimes also the Vila�snbsp;movements are described. A good example of this expanded treatmentnbsp;will be found in Karadzic, v. 6. 472 ff., noticed on p. 378, above.�

The �letter� motif is capable of similar expansion, and to a greater extent. The recipient of the letter often despatches another letter or

For a fuller discussion of this motif and also of the �ravens� and �dream� motives see Gesemann, Studien ^ur s�dslav. Kolksepik, p. 70 ff.

several letters to his friends. We have had an example of this kind in the poems on the Death of Smail Aga (cf. p. 413 ff.), where the Aga, onnbsp;receiving a letter from Djoko Malovic, sends off letters of his own tonbsp;three Turkish chiefs. A similar case occurs in Karadzic, v. 2 (cf. p. 333),nbsp;where the priest Luka receives a letter telling him of the movements ofnbsp;Djulek, and immediately writes to three of his friends, exhorting themnbsp;to join him without delay in laying an ambush for him. Sometimes, asnbsp;in this case, the letters are quite short; sometimes, like the speeches atnbsp;debates, they argue all the bearings of the situation and even discussnbsp;international politics. Letters of this kind often occupy a considerablenbsp;part of a poem. Verbal directions sometimes take the place of letters,nbsp;especially on the part of a commander.

The �complaint� motif may introduce a �council� scene, as in Karadzic, IV. 18, or it may be followed by a letter to the Sultan, which will itself lead to the council scene. This latter scene not unfrequently contains a curious feature. The Sultan or Pasha at the close of the councilnbsp;issues a proclamation, calling for someone who will lead his army ornbsp;execute some commission for him. In the event of success he promisesnbsp;great rewards, sometimes including the hand of his daughter innbsp;marriage. Usually some time elapses before anyone will undertake thenbsp;commission.

As an illustration of a series of typical scenes and motives following one another in succession we may take Karadzic, v. 3, the long poem onnbsp;�Omer Pasha�s attack upon Montenegro�:

95-118. The Sultan calls a council, and issues a proclamation promising honours and his daughter�s hand to anyone who will successfully carry out the expedition against Montenegro.

119-184. No one presents himself for fifteen days. Then the renegade Omer undertakes the expedition and is accepted by the Sultan.

520-623. Danilo gives directions to his subordinates. 624-641. A Montenegrin force sets out for Dzupa.

642-679. Mirko, the Montenegrin commander-in-chief, sends letters to three other commanders, asking for reinforcements. Then henbsp;addresses the men of Dzupa. It is only after this that the real actionnbsp;begins.

Thus far we have confined our attention to poems relating to recent events. In poems relating to the far past the proportion of stereotypednbsp;openings seems not to be so large. We may take the poems relating tonbsp;Marko Kraljevic in Vol. n of Karadzic�s collection, translated in Mr Low�snbsp;Ballads of Marko Kraljevic. They are thirty-one in number. Among thesenbsp;there are only three examples of the �wine-drinking� opening (Low,nbsp;Nos. 14,22,28), of which two are in the singular, only two of the � letter �nbsp;(fb. I, 17), of which one follows another opening, only one (tb. 20) ofnbsp;the religious formula, and one of the �inverted simile� (fb. 8), referringnbsp;to thunder and earthquake, as in Karadzic, iv. 37. In addition to thesenbsp;there is one very elaborate opening (fb. 6)�� since the world came intonbsp;existence there has been no greater marvel,� etc.�which occurs also innbsp;Karadzic, iv. 5. But the total, it will be seen, is little more than a quarternbsp;of the whole number of poems. On the other hand we find a number ofnbsp;what seem to be conventional openings, but which apparently do notnbsp;occur in Karadzic, Vols, iv and v. Such are the statements that twonbsp;comrades were riding together, which occurs ib. 4, 15, 16, that someonenbsp;rose early (fb. 12, 24, 31), and that Marko was sitting down to suppernbsp;(fb. II, 17).

Next, let us take the series of (irregular) decasyllabic heroic poems preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS., dating from c. 1750, andnbsp;published in Bogisic, Nos. 85�119. Here, out of thirty-five poemsnbsp;eight begin with wine-drinking, seven with letters, one (No. 114) withnbsp;an inverted simile, referring to thunder and earthquake, one (No. 115)nbsp;with a dream, and one (No. 116) with the call of a Vila. News is broughtnbsp;by a bird in No. 119; but it is a swallow, not a raven. It may be notednbsp;that No. 122, a poem from the same MS., but not heroic, also opens withnbsp;the call of a Vila, while No. 66, a poem from the later Perast MS., whichnbsp;belongs to about the same period (cf. p. 423) opens with a dream. It isnbsp;also worth noting that two of Bogisic�s heroic decasyllabic poemsnbsp;(Nos. 86,92) correspond to two poems in Mr Low�s collection, and thatnbsp;in both cases they have the same openings.

The evidence of the bugarstice is rather different. In seventy-six poems of this type contained in Bogisic�s collection the �letter� openingnbsp;occurs five times (Nos. 15, 22, 30, 57, 71), but the wine-drinking onlynbsp;once (No. 55). There are three examples of the �council� (Nos. 8,31, 80)nbsp;and one of the �dawn�; but the latter is a different formula from whatnbsp;we find later. Once (No. 69) we find the expression �a band of Turksnbsp;set out�; and once (No. 36) a bird brings a message, but it is a falcon.nbsp;The �inverted simile� occurs three times (Nos. 6,50, 82), though with-

out reference to thunder or earthquake. There is no call of warning or exhortation from a Vila; but in No. 29 a mountain Vila comes walkingnbsp;to Buda and pronounces a dirge for King Vladislav in front of thenbsp;castle. These are the only instances of the openings conventional innbsp;later times which we have observed in the bugarsticed It would seem thatnbsp;in the age of the hugarhice most of the openings were only beginning tonbsp;come into use, and some of them had not yet attained their final form.

The hugarstice are by no means without conventional openings; but most of these are different from what are found in later times. In sevennbsp;poems somebody begins or proceeds to speak�introducing a speech. Innbsp;six poems a lady (or Vila) goes walking, and in three two heroes gonbsp;riding. In such passages the �cognate accusative� is almost always used,�nbsp;a construction which in later poems is preserved only in a few expressions, e.g. �went hunting� (Zov lovio). Not unfrequently, however, latenbsp;poems relating to early times use simplified equivalents of these openingsnbsp;�a lady was walking,3 or two heroes were riding (cf. p. 377). Variousnbsp;other openings of the same kind occur, e.g. (No. 28) �cried a cry�nbsp;(Jdiku klikovase}^ where again the modern equivalent is simplified tonbsp;�cried�. Perhaps the most interesting case is cvilu cviljahu (cviljase), usednbsp;of the twittering of swallows; but both the passages in which it occursnbsp;(Nos. 50, 82) are instances of �inverted simile��the swallows beingnbsp;really women. Still more imaginative is the girl�s appeal to the Moon,nbsp;with which No. 46 opens. Lastly, it may be noted that the openingnbsp;�sat down to supper�, which occurs in the poems of Marko Kraljevic (cf.nbsp;p. 431), appears also in hugarstice (Nos. 34, 40), though the word usednbsp;here is objed, �dinner�.

From what has been said above it will be clear that modern heroic poems usually begin with one or other of a limited number of conventional openings. In strictly modern heroic poems, i.e. in poems firstnbsp;composed in modem times, these conventional openings seem to benbsp;almost universal. But modem versions of old poems often have different openings, which occur also in hugarstice, though usually in anbsp;slightly different and more elaborate form. In such cases the modernnbsp;version probably preserves an opening which the poem has had fornbsp;� The dream of a girl, portending disaster as usual, occurs in No. 28, but it doesnbsp;not actually begin the poem.

� Very often the word lijep, � beautiful is used in such expressions, e.g. (No. 2) lijepu �Setu peseta, lit. �went a graceful walk�. But the expression has doubtlessnbsp;become merely conventional.

3 In Karadzic, n. 80, posetala is the later equivalent of setu peseta or sedbu ietaSe. So in ib. II. 38 pye^dise is the later equivalent of �l�epu) je^du jeidijase.

433 centuries.� Sometimes, however, it has substituted for the old openingnbsp;one of the modern conventions, such as the �wine-drinking�.� Nearlynbsp;all the modem conventional openings seem to have been in use from thenbsp;time of the earliest decasyllabic poetry, i.e. towards the close of thenbsp;seventeenth century. 3 Indeed many of them can be traced even innbsp;bugarUtice, though here their occurrence is sporadic, and sometimes theynbsp;have a slightly different form. On the other hand bugarstice have, innbsp;addition to these, a number of conventional openings of their own. Itnbsp;may be observed that the openings found in the bugarkice do not vary,nbsp;hke the metres, according to the MS., i.e. according to the locality fromnbsp;which the poem was obtained. They would seem therefore to have beennbsp;in general use on the Adriatic coast; and there can be little doubt thatnbsp;some of them go back at least to the sixteenth century. Indeed twonbsp;of them occur also in Russian byliny�the two heroes riding together,nbsp;and the inverted simile, referring to natural phenomena. The mostnbsp;frequent opening in byliny^ however, is the banquet given by a princenbsp;(cf. p. 82). This also is to be found in Yugoslav poems, e.g.nbsp;Karadzi�, n. 20, 50. iii, 68. No. 50. iii can be traced back to thenbsp;fifteenth century (cf. p. 341).

We have restricted our remarks in general to the openings of poems; but it must not be supposed that the conventional elements occur onlynbsp;in this position. Poems are largely built up from them; and they arenbsp;always to be taken into account along with the freedom in the treatmentnbsp;of the text, which we noticed earlier in this chapter. In the next chapternbsp;we shall see that the Yugoslav minstrel works more by improvisationnbsp;than by memory; but it is to be borne in mind that his materials are notnbsp;single words but stereotyped phrases, passages and motifs.

Note. It has been suggested recently that the whole Kosovo cycle (cf. p. 419 ff.), including the bugarstice, is derived from a romance (cf. Note onnbsp;p. 456). We can see no reason for tracing the origin of this cycle to anbsp;literary unit, whether romance or epic, any more than that of other Yugoslavnbsp;cycles. The discrepancies between the poems seem to us to indicate that thenbsp;story had been treated independently by various poets from the beginning.

� It is interesting to compare the openings of �Marko Kraljevic and Mina of Kostur� in Bogisic, Nos. 7, 86, and Karadzic, 11. No. 62 (Low, No. 17). Fornbsp;�letters� the bugarstica (No. 7) here has glosa, i.e. presumably verbal messages.

� As in �Music Stefan� (Karadzic, n. No. 47), as against Bogi�ic, No. i.

3 Apart from the decasyllabic poems in the Ragusa text, several of them seem to occur in the Erlangen MS., which dates from early in cent, xviii; cf. Gesemann, op.nbsp;cit. p. 70 ff.

Yugoslav minstrelsy has a peculiar interest owing to the fact that it continued to be a living art down to our own times.nbsp;Indeed it is said to be still widely cultivated, though we have nonbsp;detailed recent information. We understand, however, that nearlynbsp;everyone now can read and that printed collections of poems are purchasable everywhere, not to mention gramophone records and wirelessnbsp;performances. Moreover, even the most remote districts are no longernbsp;inaccessible to external influence. But the information which we havenbsp;obtained applies properly for the most part to conditions which prevailed some thirty or forty years ago. We shall use the present tense; butnbsp;it must be understood that what is said may now be true only in the casenbsp;of old and exceptionally unsophisticated persons.

The value of the evidence lies not only in its abundance but also in the fact that in certain districts a living�perhaps even creative�heroicnbsp;minstrelsy was still flourishing when it came to be studied at length bynbsp;skilled observers. Our best information comes from Bosnia and Hercegovina, which were illiterate and more or less isolated from the civilisednbsp;world until c. 1880. For Montenegro we have not such detailed information; but there can be no question that many of the records, such asnbsp;they are, date from the Heroic Age itself.

In this chapter we ought to speak not only of minstrelsy, such as is intended for entertainment in some form or other, but also of the morenbsp;or less casual recitation or singing of poetry, with or without musicalnbsp;accompaniment�and likewise of�celebration� poetry, including elegiesnbsp;or dirges. Nearly all the information, however, which is accessible to us,nbsp;comes under the first head ; and we will begin with this.

English travellers and residents in Yugoslavia seldom seem to have interested themselves in this subject; but we have met with a few references which are perhaps worth noticing. Sir J. Gardiner Wilkinson,nbsp;the famous Egyptologist, visited Bishop Peter II at Cetinje in 1839, at anbsp;time when heroic conditions there were still unimpaired. Smail Aganbsp;had not yet been killed, and many more of the poems discussed above

435 were not yet composed. In his book Dalmatia and Montenegro (1848),nbsp;Vol. I, p. 440, he says with reference to the music: �This instrumentnbsp;{g�slaY is remarkable from having only one string, which is stretchednbsp;over a long neck and narrow body covered with parchment; its generalnbsp;shape being rather like a guitar. It is played with a bow. The sound isnbsp;plaintive and monotonous ; and it is principally used as an accompanimentnbsp;to the voice; the performer singing the glorious wars of Montenegrinnbsp;and Servian heroes; of Tzerni George and Milosh Obrenovich; ofnbsp;Tzernoievich and Milosh Obilich ; or of the far famed Scander-beg undernbsp;whom their ancestors fought against the Turks.

It is interesting to see a custom of old times still retained while the deeds it celebrates are of daily occurrence; in other countries the bardsnbsp;and the subjects of their songs belong only to history and tradition, butnbsp;in Montenegro they are both realities of the present day. There is not,nbsp;however, any class of people who can properly be styled bards; thenbsp;sturdiest warrior is in the habit of accompanying the gusla; and the effectnbsp;of the song is increased by the well known character of the performer.�

Again, speaking of his visit to the Archimandrite at Ostrog (ib. p. 533), he says: �After dinner it was proposed that I should hear their guslanbsp;or Slavonic violin and some of the songs of their bards; which on anbsp;frontier constantly resounding with the din of arms, are hailed withnbsp;delight by every Montenegrin.... I was glad to have the opportunity ofnbsp;witnessing the stirring effect produced by these songs. The subjectsnbsp;related to their contests with their enemies, the vain hopes of the Turksnbsp;to subdue their country, and the glorious victories obtained over themnbsp;both by themselves and the heroes of Servia; in some of which the armednbsp;bard may have had his share of glory. For like Taillefer, the minstrel ofnbsp;William the Conqueror, these men are warriors; and no one wouldnbsp;venture to sing of deeds he could not emulate.... The enthusiasm of thenbsp;performer compensated for the monotony of the one-stringed instrument.

P�p� Yovan.. .returned during the performance; probably in time to hear some of his own exploits, recorded in the national songs of hisnbsp;countrymen.�

This passage describes the entertainment provided in a monastery. An interesting account of the way in which an ordinary Montenegrinnbsp;household used to spend its evenings�at a somewhat later date�isnbsp;given by Denton, Montenegro (1877), p. 115 f. The men would tell

� The true form is gusle-, cf. p. 303, note. An elaborately decorated specimen is described by Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevic, p. xxxvi.

stories of the adventures they had experienced in battle, the older ones under the Vladika, the younger under Mirko. Then people returningnbsp;from the market at Cattaro would arrive and tell the news, especiallynbsp;anything from Western Europe which was likely to affect them. Thennbsp;other neighbours would drop in; the gusle was brought out, and laysnbsp;sung about Ivan Beg, Milos Obilic, and others. After this �songs ofnbsp;domestic love, of the deeds of the Hayduks, or weird lays of the Vila ofnbsp;the mountains, fill up the evening�.

Sir A. J. Evans, Through Bosnia and the Herzegovina (1877), p. 136 fl'., gives an account of a Catholic festival, at which he was present, on anbsp;mountain near Komusina. He says there was much music, both instrumental and vocal. One minstrel was entertaining an audience of girls.nbsp;Then he saw �a larger gathering, forming a spacious ring lit up by anbsp;blazing fire, in the middle of which a Bosniac bard took his seat on anbsp;rough log�. He tunes his gusle, and then �rolled out the ballad fornbsp;hour after hour� until nearly sunrise.

If this recitation consisted of a single poem, it must have been of unusual length. Recitations of Mohammedan poems are said often to last all night; but Christian poems are seldom so long.

According to Wyon, The Land of the Black Mountain, p. 39, guslars are invariably blind. He adds: �their singing is execrable according tonbsp;Western notions, a range of four or five notes in a wailing minor keynbsp;making up their register�. At the same time he points out that they arenbsp;the history books of the country, and notes the importance of their songs.

By �guslars� the author seems to mean those who are dependent upon minstrelsy for their living. Low, The Ballads of Marko Kraljevii,nbsp;p. xxvi, says that (in Serbia) the guslar is often blind. But he adds thatnbsp;there are now very few of these people; he had only met with three innbsp;the course of four years. There can be no doubt that somewhat beforenbsp;Wyon�s time minstrelsy was a more or less general accomplishment innbsp;Montenegro. But probably no one could ever afford to devote his timenbsp;exclusively to it, except those who were dependent upon charity. Innbsp;Bosnia and Hercegovina the case may have been different, as will benbsp;seen later.

For these two provinces we have fuller and more precise information, especially from the investigations of Prof. M. Murko.^ From his papers

� Cf. Murko, Zeitschr. d. Vereins f. Volkskunde (Berlin), 1909, p. 13 ff.; Sitzungsberichte d. k. k. Akademie in Wien, Bd. 176 (1914�15); also in Travaux publi�s par ITnstitut d��tudes slaves. No. X (Paris, 1929)�but this last has not been accessiblenbsp;to us.

437 and other sources we will attempt to give a summary account of thenbsp;form of minstrelsy which prevailed there in the early years of thisnbsp;century.

� We understand that in the latest article this distinction�as between Mohammedan and Christian poems�is not fully maintained. Mohammedan poems relating to recent events have proved to be more common than was thought formerly.

minstrels to entertain them every evening, sometimes until daybreak, and even when they are quite alone. One Beg took a minstrel with himnbsp;when he went to visit the spa of Rohitsch-Sauerbrunn in Styria, in 1913.nbsp;Another is known to have had as many as six minstrels. We gather fromnbsp;Krauss� Slavische Volkforschungen and other accounts that it was possiblenbsp;thirty or forty years ago for visitors to get minstrels to recite to them fornbsp;a small remuneration. But the general cultivation of minstrelsy as anbsp;regular amusement for every evening, such as we hear of in earliernbsp;accounts of Montenegro, seems by this time to have become a thing ofnbsp;the past.

he could have his name brought into a poem�presumably as a hero� on payment of two plete, i.e. forty kreuzer, or about eightpence. Thenbsp;printer, however, can hardly have been established by this time; fornbsp;Niksic then belonged to Turkey.

In the poems themselves references to minstrelsy of entertainment seem to be extremely rare. Occasionally, however, we hear of heroesnbsp;amusing themselves or passing the time with minstrelsy. An instancenbsp;occurs in the story of Ibro Nukic (cf. p. 329), where the hero spends hisnbsp;wedding night singing to the tambura. So in Bogisic, No. 91, when Aliinbsp;Aga wishes to wake Marko Kraljevic, the only way in which he dares tonbsp;do so is by playing the tambura. Singing is not mentioned in this case;nbsp;but Marko seems to be sleeping with the instrument under his head.

ienske pjesme (cf. p. 306) are said to be sung largely by women, without accompaniment, when they are amusing themselves or busynbsp;about their work. Men also used to sing much, especially shepherds outnbsp;upon the hills. We hear of the improvisation of poetry even whennbsp;fighting is in progress. An interesting case occurs in Karadzic, v. No. 3.nbsp;1379 ff., in the fighting at the monastery during the invasion of Omernbsp;Pasha, in 1852, Novica Cerovic calls Mirko�s attention to Savo Mar-tinovic, who is continually singing and at the same time firing with greatnbsp;effect: �He is singing of the illustrious prince and of the Serdar Milan,nbsp;his relative, and of Djuro, his standard-bearer, and the rest of the comrades from Cetinje. Savo sings with the full force of his lungs, andnbsp;cheers the rest of our company.�

A large amount of singing takes place at weddings and other social functions. At weddings the ceremonies extend over several days;� andnbsp;there seem to be appropriate songs for the various stages, though we donbsp;not know how far the words of these are fixed, or improvised. Innbsp;Karadzic, v. No. 9. 968 ff., when the prince�s bridal procession is makingnbsp;its way down to Kotor to meet the bride, two of his officers, Savonbsp;Ivanovic and Savo Martinovic, sing songs of rejoicing, which arenbsp;evidently either improvised or composed for the occasion.

The poem on Prince Danilo�s funeral (z^. v. No. 18), noticed on p. 335 f. above, seems to be typical of the poetry used on such occasions.nbsp;The first two speeches are dirges, pronounced by the prince�s widownbsp;and his sister-in-law; and these are in a special metre�lines of twelvenbsp;syllables which should perhaps properly be regarded as couplets, ofnbsp;eight and four syllables. The same metre seems to be used in timelessnbsp;� A short account of them is given by Eisner, Volkslieder der Slawen, p. 528 f.

nameless dirges by female relatives/ and may be in general use for such occasions. We have not seen any other account of a funeral; but Wyonnbsp;(The Land of the Black Mountain, p. 85) describes the singing of anbsp;somewhat similar dirge some time�apparently some months�after thenbsp;funeral. He visited the widow of the Vojvoda Marko Drekalovic innbsp;1901 or 1902; and while he was there he saw four women, weeping andnbsp;dishevelled, kneel down at the side of the grave. They sang, one at anbsp;time, extempore verses about the hero�s life and deeds. One began asnbsp;follows:

father?� nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;'

She went on until she was exhausted, while the rest were wailing, beating their breasts and tearing their hair. Then one of the others tooknbsp;her turn. It is not stated who these women were. The widow herselfnbsp;was not one of them, though she was present.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;gt;

Hardly anything has been said above with regard to the authors of narodne pjesme, for the reason that they are very seldom known. It wouldnbsp;seem that if a poem proved attractive enough to be taken over by othernbsp;minstrels�for there was evidently no feeling for anything in thenbsp;nature of copyright�the name of the original poet was very soonnbsp;forgotten. Vol. v of Karadzic�s collection covers the period from 1851nbsp;to 1861 and was published in 1865 ; yet out of the eighteen poems whichnbsp;it contains the origin of no less than six seems to have been unknownnbsp;to him.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;*

In a society where improvisation was so highly developed it might perhaps be expected that every minstrel was also an author, i.e. that henbsp;originated works of his own composition. But we are not clear that thisnbsp;is true;� at all events it is not suggested by any of the authorities we have

' Examples are given (in transi.) by Eisner, op. cit. p. 416 IF., where they are nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;1

� Jagic, Arch.f. slav. Philologie, IV. 236, quotes a very interesting statement by Joksim Novic, who lived in the middle of last century. The best reciter known tonbsp;Novic was a certain Jovan of Gacko, who recited for Bishop Peter II. He had a hundred poems in his repertoire; but he would not allow that he had himself composed anbsp;single poem. � He disclaimed this faculty altogether, as almost all other reciters do,nbsp;probably because he feared that a poem of his would not be received as favourablynbsp;as if it were declared to come from � our best and oldest� poets.� Novic�s explanationnbsp;seems to be a conjecture of his own. Is it not possible that the minstrels were tellingnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;|

read. We hear occasionally of minstrels who composed original poems. An interesting case is recorded by Karadzic.� He obtained severalnbsp;poems from a minstrel named Andzelko Vukovic, who came from Kosovonbsp;but had had to leave his home because he had killed a retired Turkishnbsp;soldier. Once, when this man was travelling with Karadzic, the ideanbsp;occurred to him of treating his adventure in a poem. He did so, andnbsp;dictated it to a tradesman in Belgrade, who subsequently gave it tonbsp;Karadzic. The poem is a purely imaginative work. The Turk is transformed into a mighty hero and robber, who has destroyed the peace ofnbsp;the country. Andzelko, who goes to seek him in response to an appealnbsp;from the Pasha, appears as a kind of Marko Kraljevic. They charge eachnbsp;other on horseback with spear and sword, before they use their pistols.nbsp;The type of poem which the author took as his model seems tonbsp;have been that of the earlier hajduci (cf. p. 325 If.), rather than that of hisnbsp;own day. Perhaps he thought this would appeal more to Karadzic.

As regards the normal heroic poetry of the nineteenth century, it has been mentioned above that the origin of only twelve of thenbsp;eighteen poems contained in Karadzic�s fifth volume is known. Of thesenbsp;five are attributed to the Kapetan Savo Martinovic and six to thenbsp;Serdar Djuko Srdanovic. Both these men were officers in high positionnbsp;at Cetinje.

Savo Martinovic, in addition to his own poems, supplied Karadzic with several of those which are published in his fourth volume. Henbsp;refers to himself fairly often in his poems; and he also figures as a heronbsp;in some of the anonymous poems, especially No. 3, the long poemnbsp;which comes from Hercegovina. Here he is one of the defenders of thenbsp;upper monastery at Ostrog and cheers his companions with his poetry,nbsp;while he is fighting (cf. p. 439). He appears again as a poet in No. 9,nbsp;the anonymous poem on Prince Danilo�s marriage (z3.); his poemnbsp;on this occasion is given in 9. 977 ff. According to No. i, one of hisnbsp;own poems, he was one of the first people to attach himself to Danilo�snbsp;cause, when the latter�whose claim was disputed�first arrived atnbsp;Cetinje. At some later date, however, he left Montenegro; and in 1863nbsp;he was living at Zara.

Djuko Srdanovic likewise supplied Karadzic with one of the poems contained in Vol. iv. But he seems seldom to be mentioned in poemsnbsp;himself. He refers to himself in one of his own poems. Vol. v. No. 5nbsp;(188 ff.)�a poem on Omer Pasha�s invasion�where the prince tells

� We are indebted both for the story and the poem itself (in transi.) to Gesemann, Stud. f. siidslav. Volksep'tk, p. 85 ff.

him to bring into action the big cannon which his uncle had obtained from England. From the Preface to Vol. iv we learn that in 1862 he wasnbsp;chamberlain to the court of Prince Nikola.

This evidence, so far as it goes, suggests that the heroic poems composed about the middle of last century were largely the work of men of high rank. We have no further information;^ but it is certainly a remarkable fact�^and surely unparalleled in any other country in Europenbsp;�that three of the last four rulers of Montenegro, Bishops Peter I * andnbsp;Peter II and King Nikola, were famous poets. We do not know whethernbsp;Prince Danilo was a poet; but his brother, the Vojvoda Mirko (Kingnbsp;Nikola�s father), published a volume of poems, apparently heroicnbsp;poems, which ran to a second edition in 1864.3 The Vojvoda Markonbsp;Drekaiovic, who died c. 1901 (cf. p. 440), is also said to have been anbsp;poet.4 Whatever may have been the nature of these poems, such a recordnbsp;as this is inexplicable, unless poetry was generally cultivated in thenbsp;highest circles.

Thus far we have confined our attention to modern times. The evidence available for earlier times, whether from the poems themselvesnbsp;or from other records, is of course far less full and precise; but it is notnbsp;entirely wanting for the bugarstice.i

In one of the Zagreb MSS. thereisa very short poem (Bogisic, No. 84), containing only sixteen lines, alternately short and long, in the form ofnbsp;an address to the master of a house (Type D). It consists wholly ofnbsp;expressions of good wishes for his welfare and happiness and that of his

� The only other author recorded in Karadfic�s fifth volume is Filip Srdanov, of whom we know nothing.

� It was suggested by Soerensen, Arch. f. slav. Philol. xx. 106 ff., that this bishop (St Peter) was the creator of modern Montenegrin heroic poetry. If it isnbsp;true (ih. note) that he was fond of singing to the guslc, he may very well have influenced it, e.g. in its interest in the past and in external affairs. But if he hadnbsp;�created� it, Karadzic, who was at work during his reign, would have been awarenbsp;of the fact. Karadzic himself suspected the bishop of being the author of onlynbsp;two of the poems published by him (cf. p. 427, note).

3 Junacke Spomenek od T^elekoga Pojvode Merka Petrovic, Cetinje, 1864. We have not seen this work and owe the reference to Denton, Montenegro, p. 156.

5 The origin of decasyllabic poems relating to early times is in general doubtless untraceable. It is worth noting, however, that there are said to be minstrels whonbsp;specialise in legends of Serbian saints and churches (cf. Krauss, Slavische Volkforschungen, p. 186 f.). We suspect that such poems are as a rule derived ultimatelynbsp;from priestly circles.

friends. The person addressed seems to be a priest;^ for he is called Pope Gospodaru (�Master Priest�). The occasion is evidently some domestic celebration, since he is wearing flowers on his head. There arenbsp;other persons present, whom the poet addresses as �proud heroes�, withnbsp;the wish that God may keep them in health. The poem concludes asnbsp;follows: �Happy be all ye who are gathered around, may great Godnbsp;give you happiness. Dear gentlemen! the song is in your honour;nbsp;health and happiness to us.�

We think this short piece was probably composed as an epilogue to a recitation of poetry by a minstrel (or reciter). In the other Zagreb MS.nbsp;one heroic poem (Bogisic, No. 5) ends with the words: �Happy be allnbsp;ye who are gathered around, may great God give you happiness�, whilenbsp;another poem {ih. No. 52) in the same MS. concludes as follows: �Andnbsp;now, gentlemen, the poem is in your honour. Dear gentlemen, thenbsp;poem is in your honour; health and happiness to us.� Modern Montenegrin poems not unfrequently end with somewhat similar expressions,nbsp;e.g. Karadzic, iv. 43 : � This poem is for all Serbians; the poem from me,nbsp;from God health to you�; and ib. 47 (after the death of a hero: �Maynbsp;God grant him an abode in Paradise, and to us, brothers, health andnbsp;happiness.� We may also perhaps quote here another ending, whichnbsp;occurs, with slight variants, in three poems in the first Zagreb collectionnbsp;(Bogisi�, Nos. 7, ii, 50): �This happened then (or �once�), and now Inbsp;call it to mind, my God who knowest (all) ! Do thou, O God, also benbsp;mindful of my good health.�

Certain bugarStice in the Perast collection have endings of a somewhat different character, which give the impression of having been composednbsp;for larger gatherings. One poem (Bogisic, No. 59) ends thus: �This wasnbsp;accomplished by the frontiermen and warriors, the good frontiermennbsp;(i.e. the local warriors of the past). Good health and happiness to thenbsp;heroes of today!� In another {j.b. No. 63) we find: �What was done bynbsp;the men of old we call to mind as an example to heroes. But strike, yenbsp;heroes, as each is best able.� This looks as if it was intended fornbsp;recitation before a battle, though it may be of general reference.nbsp;In any case the appeal is to local patriotism, as throughout this groupnbsp;of poems.

The endings of the two poems obtained by Hektorovic from fishermen in the island of Hvar in 15 56 and published by him (cf. p. 300) bring us back to the milieu of No. 84. One (Bogisic, No. 6) ends as follows:

' Possibly, however, two persons are addressed�first the master of the house, and then a priest who is present. Is the word pop applied to a Catholic priest!�

�Happy be thou, master, and happy thy household, our master. May this poem be an honour to thy generosity.� In the other (z3. No. 49) wenbsp;find: �Now and for ever good luck be with thee, our master.� The lastnbsp;line, which we cannot translate, seems to express a wish for health andnbsp;happiness in our home. It is not made clear who � our master � is in eithernbsp;poem. Hektorovic�s work is not accessible to us; and we do not knownbsp;whether the phrase was applied to himself, as a term of respect, ornbsp;to some nobleman or landowner, in whose service the fishermennbsp;were.

From the passages noticed above it is clear enough that the bugarstice �or at least many of them, which are drawn from various collections�nbsp;were intended for recitation; and that the recitation took place sometimesnbsp;on more or less private occasions, in the presence of some importantnbsp;person who is addressed as �master�, sometimes perhaps at largernbsp;gatherings. Unfortunately the amount of evidence available fromnbsp;external sources seems to be very limited. Only a few writers of thenbsp;sixteenth and seventeenth centuries refer to heroic poetry�the earliestnbsp;relating to the year 1531�and what they say is very brief. So far asnbsp;they go, however, their statements are in full accord with the evidencenbsp;of the poems.

The most important notices are the following.� Jurij Krizanic, who wrote c. 1660, says that in his youth there survived among the Croatiansnbsp;and Serbians what he regarded as the imitation of a Roman custom,nbsp;namely that soldiers stood behind the nobles and warriors at banquetsnbsp;and sang of the deeds of their ancestors and the glory of Marko Kral-jevic, Novak Debeljak, Milos Kobilic, and some other heroes. Muchnbsp;earlier, in 1547, we hear of a blind soldier, who was conducted by hisnbsp;daughter, singing a song of Marko Kral je vic at Splijt (Spalato),nbsp;apparently to a large crowd, who accompanied him.

Taken as a whole the early evidence seems to indicate that poetry of this kind was cultivated in the sixteenth and following centuries verynbsp;much in the same way as in recent times. Only one important elementnbsp;is lacking; we hear nothing of an instrumental accompaniment either innbsp;the poems or in the other records. The silence of the former counts ofnbsp;course for little or nothing; for references to such accompaniment evennbsp;in modern poems are extremely rare. But we should have expected tonbsp;hear something of it from Hektorovic, if it was used by his fishermen, and

* The information given in this paragraph is derived from Murko, Geschichte d. �lteren s�dslawischen Litteraturen, p. 204 f. (cf. Arch.f slav. Philol. xxviii. 378). Wenbsp;regret that we cannot give references to the original authorities.

445 also in such references as those noted in the last paragraph. One cannotnbsp;conclude with any confidence that instrumental accompaniment wasnbsp;unknown in these times�the amount of evidence is far too slight�butnbsp;it would seem not to have been in universal, perhaps not even in generalnbsp;use. On the other hand xhegusle does not look like a modern invention ;nbsp;and it is an instrument of the kind which is generally used elsewhere asnbsp;an accompaniment to the voice.

The minstrels or reciters were perhaps as a rule men of more or less humble position, though we have no definite evidence except for Hek-torovic�s fishermen. The address to the master of the house in Bogisic,nbsp;No. 84, and the ending of ib. No. 52 (cf. p. 442 f.) rather suggest men,nbsp;not necessarily professionals, who went to the houses of the rich to entertain for a consideration. The soldier who recited at Splijt in 1547 wasnbsp;blind. On the other hand the �soldiers� who recited at banquets innbsp;Krizanic�s time were probably members of the military retinues of thenbsp;noblemen whom they were entertaining. It is to be observed thatnbsp;practically all our notices except this last come from Dalmatia, where thenbsp;upper classes generally cultivated Italian fashions and even spoke Italiannbsp;to a considerable extent. The scope for the cultivation of traditionalnbsp;poetry was therefore limited.

On the question of authorship no evidence seems to be available; at all events the poems contained in Bogisic�s collection are apparently allnbsp;anonymous. We suspect that one of the bugarhice from Perast (No. 65)nbsp;is the work of a priest, chiefly because of the strong religious (anti-Islamic) sentiments which it expresses towards the end; but it alsonbsp;describes the Venetian forces and their movements in a way whichnbsp;suggests an educated mind. One or two other poems may be of similarnbsp;origin. But such cases seem to be exceptional.

There can be no doubt that most of the bugarstice�indeed we may say the bugarhice as a class�are to be regarded as narodne. pjesme. Thisnbsp;is shown not merely by the universal anonymity and by the endings ofnbsp;poems discussed above, which, it must be remembered, are found innbsp;various collections. Far more important is the prevalence of variants.nbsp;Some bugarhice are variants of others (cf. p. 318) ; many more are variantsnbsp;of poems found in later collections. Indeed a large proportion of thenbsp;themes treated in bugarhice. belong to the traditional stock of narodnenbsp;pjesme. Moreover the later variants often preserve features which arenbsp;lost or obscured in the bugarstice. Instances will be found on pp. 385 f.,nbsp;421 f.

It must not be assumed of course that all the bugarstice preserved in the various collections which we have noticed are derived from oralnbsp;tradition. Bogisic himself (Introd. p. 2) believed that three of the poemsnbsp;preserved in the larger Zagreb MS. (Nos. 58, 77, 81) were of literarynbsp;origin ; and there may be more of such, though we are not convincednbsp;that this is the case. The poems which one is most tempted to suspect onnbsp;internal grounds are the two recorded by Hektorovic, owing to theirnbsp;careful and polished diction. Yet Hektorovic�s statements seem to benbsp;explicit enough. If he really composed or tampered with the poemsnbsp;himself, he deliberately misled his readers. He even indicates the tunesnbsp;to which the poems were chanted.

Something more should perhaps be said about the bugarstice preserved in the Franciscan (Ragusa) MS., especially the collection supplied by Jodzo Betondic (cf. p. 422, note). This man, who died in 1764, was anbsp;Latin scholar and is described in the MS. as a �distinguished Slavonicnbsp;poet�.� We may therefore be inclined to regard his contributions withnbsp;some suspicion. But this does not seem to be borne out by an examination of the poems. One poem from his collection (Bogisic, No. 9) is anbsp;variant of a poem (jb. No. 26) from one of the other collections in thenbsp;same MS. ; and the differences between the two are such as occur usuallynbsp;in variant versions of narodne pjesme. Both poems have been noticednbsp;above (p. 317 f.). The only special feature which we have observed innbsp;Betondic�s collection is that one poem (^ib. No. i) covers the ground ofnbsp;three poems in Karadzic�s collection, one after the other, as was notednbsp;on p. 421 f. above. The last part of this poem, describing the battle ofnbsp;Kosovo and the deaths of Murad, Lazar and Milos, has no true parallelnbsp;elsewhere among narodne pjesme, so far as we know. But it is in generalnbsp;very similar to the description of the same events given by Orbini (cf.nbsp;p. 382). Orbini, it is true, might have got his account of the battle fromnbsp;historical sources; but the decisive point is the following. The last partnbsp;of this poem is obviously connected with another poem in Betondic�snbsp;collection, omitted by Bogisic but described on p. 315 above, which isnbsp;concerned with a quarrel between Lazar�s daughters. This story also isnbsp;given, with slight variations, by Orbini : but it is clearly of imaginativenbsp;(poetic) origin. It would seem then that some poem similar to Betondic�snbsp;was in existence before 1601 (the date of Orbini�s work), i.e. about anbsp;century and a half before Betondic�s time. We may add here that wenbsp;have not observed any noticeable differences in diction between

* Hrijedni Slav inski spjevalac. We do not know exactly what the last word means. He translated Ovid�s Heroldes. Cf. Bogisic, Introd. pp. 129, 133.

447 Betondic�s poems and other bugarhice. Repetitions abound. In the firstnbsp;twenty-four lines of Bogisic, No. i, seven lines are repeated (with slightnbsp;variations), and four of these again a third time. This is hardly the waynbsp;in which a literary poet would compose. Betondic may of course havenbsp;been versed in oral poetry and in the traditional manner of treating it.nbsp;But in this case his treatment of the poems in his repertoire need not benbsp;regarded as different from that of an ordinary reciter. On the othernbsp;hand the poems may have been written down before they came to him;nbsp;and in view of his date this is what we are inclined to think.

Almost all the bugarhice, including all the large collections, come from the Dalmatian coast; and consequently it is not surprising that theynbsp;show features characteristic of that region, e.g. the use of Italian wordsnbsp;in their vocabulary. The occurrence of the Romance name Oliver^ bornenbsp;by a minor character in Bogisic, No. i, may doubtless be ascribed to thenbsp;same Italian influence. Other features of the same kind are probably notnbsp;rare. Is it possible that the Vila who carries a palm in her hand innbsp;Bogisic, No. 29, has been influenced by some figure of an angel, ornbsp;perhaps some allegorical figure, seen in one of the coast cities.^

But the bugarstice also show features which do not properly belong to the coast. It has been pointed out by several scholars that the religiousnbsp;milieu of the heroic bugarstice is that of the Orthodox Church.^ Twonbsp;poems in particular have attracted attention, Bogisic, Nos. 12 and 22, innbsp;which King Matthias and his father Janko (John Hunyadi) are represented as Orthodox. Why should well-known Catholic princes benbsp;represented as Orthodox in the poetry of Catholic cities i� Clearlynbsp;such poems must be derived from the Orthodox districts of thenbsp;interior.

This consideration throws light upon another important fact, which likewise was pointed out long ago. The narrative bugarhice fall chronologically into two groups. The poems of the first group, almost all ofnbsp;which are heroic, relate to the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, whilenbsp;those of the second, most of which are �post-heroic�, relate to the sixteenth and seventeenth, though the first half of the sixteenth centurynbsp;seems to be blank. The fact to which we would call attention is that thenbsp;first group, with the exception of one post-heroic poem (Bogisic, No. 76;nbsp;cf. p. 353), relate wholly to the interior, especially Serbia and Hungary,nbsp;whereas the second group are almost entirely concerned with the

� Orthodox features seem to be sometimes omitted, as in BogiSic, No. i, as compared with Karadzic, ii. No. 47 (cf. p. 422). But we have not noticed anynbsp;specifically Catholic features.

Adriatic coast. The inference again seems clear enough: the early history of this poetry is to be sought in the interior.

The part played in the poems by Hungarian heroes deserves special attention. A considerable part of Dalmatia had at one time been undernbsp;Hungarian rule. But the poems preserve no remembrance of thisnbsp;period. Their interest in Hungary, or rather in Hungarian heroes, beginsnbsp;c. 1440 and continues not more than half a century. During this time,nbsp;or at least the first half of it the Hungarian element is even more promi-nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;1

nent than the Serbian, and the sympathy is with the Hungarian Janko as against the Serbian ruler Despot Dj uro. The Serbian element dates back tonbsp;an earlier time than the Hungarian, viz. to 1389 or a little earlier. But bothnbsp;elements cease about the same time; the latest event which we can datenbsp;is the death of�Fiery� Vuk (cf. p. 324), in 1485. There is no mention ofnbsp;the fall of Belgrade, in'1521; and though there are one or two hazynbsp;references to the fall of Buda, in 1526, no Hungarian king or hero isnbsp;mentioned after Matthias, who died in 1490.

It should be observed that Hungarian and Serbian princes and heroes, Janko and Djuro, Matthias and Vuk, frequently figure in the same poems.nbsp;In one poem (cf. p. 317) Janko is said to be a son of the (Serbian) princenbsp;Stjepan Lazarevic. No consciousness of a feeling of nationality is evernbsp;expressed. Indeed the name �Serbian� never occurs. In one poemnbsp;(Bogisic, No. i) the Serbian leaders seem to be called Hungarians (cf.nbsp;p. 366 f.). On the other hand the Hungarian leaders are representednbsp;as belonging to the Orthodox Church�which is incorrect.

From all this it is clear that the group of poems which we are discussing represents a body of poetic tradition extending down to c. 1490. This tradition must be regarded as essentially Orthodox and Serbian,nbsp;though it has incorporated a large but recent Hungarian element; butnbsp;national feeling is entirely wanting. The interest throughout is individual and aristocratic. A considerable proportion of the poems arenbsp;occupied with marriages and the domestic relations of princesses. Indeed, in contrast to poems relating to modern times, a strong femininenbsp;interest is usually present. Several of the poems correspond to what wenbsp;now call light literature. It may be added that variants of many of thenbsp;poems are to be found in modern collections, together with other poemsnbsp;relating to the same period. These show in general the same characteristics, though neither the Hungarian element nor the femininenbsp;interest is so strongly represented, and from time to time nationalnbsp;feeling makes itself felt. The lighter elements have mostly disappeared.

�literature� current among the Orthodox aristocracy at the time of the Turkish conquest. In some cases indeed we are hardly dependent uponnbsp;inferences for this date. We have seen that the poems cannot havenbsp;originated among the �Latins� on the coast. But it is clear that some ofnbsp;them must have been widely known in Dalmatia in the early part of thenbsp;sixteenth century. Poems upon Marko Kraljevic and upon Radosav hadnbsp;penetrated before 1556 as far as the island of Hvar where Hektorovicnbsp;obtained them in Serbian rhythm �Srbski naiiii). A poem on the banquetnbsp;before the battle of Kosovo, which can be traced clearly enough innbsp;Bogisic, No. I, and still better in Karadzic, ii. No. 50. iii, must have beennbsp;current somewhere on the coast before 1500; for it was quoted about thisnbsp;time by the Italian translator of Ducas (cf. p. 341). This brings us backnbsp;to the time of the Turkish conquest, the date which is indicated by thenbsp;internal evidence of the poems themselves. It is believed that about thisnbsp;time, say between 1459nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;1490, many noble families fled to the coast

from the interior. They may very well have brought the poems with them, though other means of transmission are of course not impossible.

The history of the bugarstice then would seem to present little difficulty. Yet curiously enough a theory has obtained some currencynbsp;that they represent a new form of poetry which came into existence onnbsp;the coast c. 1500 through Italian�ultimately French�or Spanish influence, and that before this time the Yugoslavs possessed no heroicnbsp;poetry. The evidence for the latter proposition is of course negative;nbsp;there are said to be no references to such poetry before that date. This isnbsp;an argument which, we fear, is not likely to convince anyone who hasnbsp;made a study of Anglo-Saxon heroic poetry. The written literaturenbsp;current in the interior of Yugoslavia before 1550 was essentially annbsp;ecclesiastical literature; and such literature seldom takes note of heroicnbsp;poetry. England possesses a very large body of ecclesiastical literature,nbsp;both Latin and vernacular, dating from before the Norman conquest;nbsp;but, so far as we know, it contains only one definite reference�in onenbsp;of Alcuin�s letters�to poetry of this kind. Even so voluminous anbsp;writer as Bede never mentions it. The silence of the authorities provesnbsp;nothing more than that the scholars of the day were not interested innbsp;such poetry.

On the Adriatic coast it may be agreed that the heroic bugarstice yfj�x�. comparatively new, though they were known there before 1500. Butnbsp;the argument for this is to be found not so much in the silence of thenbsp;records as in the internal evidence afforded by the poems themselves,nbsp;which shows that they are not native to the coastland.

Apart from negative evidence, various arguments for foreign influence have been adduced? Different scholars indeed have given different reasons. One has called attention to the fact that a MS. ofnbsp;the Chan�un de Williame was once preserved at Ragusa, others to resemblances between various passages in narodne pjesme (or bugarstice')nbsp;and chansons de geste. Another lays stress on the warfare against anbsp;Mohammedan power which forms the background of both the narodnenbsp;pjesme (including the bugarstice') and the French and Spanish romances,nbsp;though this of course rests on historical fact, not literary convention.

We fear we cannot attach much importance to these considerations. The positive evidence for any influence of this kind upon the bugarsticenbsp;seems to amount to very little; and we venture to think that it wouldnbsp;never have been suggested but for the prevailing tendency to look fornbsp;literary influence everywhere.� It is true that Ragusa�and to somenbsp;extent other Dalmatian cities also�shared the intellectual life of thenbsp;Italian Renaissance, and also that they were in frequent touch with Spainnbsp;and other western lands. But we do not see how these facts can explainnbsp;the origin of the bugarhice. When a country which is more or less backward or isolated comes under the influence of cosmopolitan literaturenbsp;or of any literature more advanced than its own, the usual result is thatnbsp;the native literature is submerged. This is what has happened in Yugoslavia during the last century; and the same thing happened in the twelfthnbsp;century not only in England, where the conditions were peculiar, but alsonbsp;in all Scandinavian countries except Iceland. We suspect that it happenednbsp;also in Dalmatia, long before 1500. In all these cases a new literature, ofnbsp;alien affinities, came into existence. Sometimes, however, as in southnbsp;Germany, the native literature is not wholly killed; we find a partialnbsp;revival of it transformed under the influence of the new. In such casesnbsp;the effects of the latter are obvious enough in language, metre and style,nbsp;if not in subject matter, just as in the medieval German epics. Hownbsp;could foreign influence in Dalmatia produce a wholly new heroicnbsp;poetry, dealing with Serbian and Hungarian, not native (Dalmatian)nbsp;themes�yet without any obvious resemblance to its (foreign) sources i'

We may repeat here that the poet Hektorovic, who was a cultured literary man, describes the rhythm of his fishermen�s poems as Serbian.3nbsp;� Cf. especially Banasevic, Rev. d. �t. SI. vi. 224 ff.; Subotic, Yugoslav Popularnbsp;Ballads^ p. lOl ff.

� It would seem also that scholars interested in this poetry have usually been more familiar with romance literature than with the heroic poetry of other peoples.

3 An ingenious, though by no means convincing, attempt to explain away this difficulty is made by Cancel, Rev. des �tudes Slaves, I. 237, where it is suggested that

This expression may perhaps mean that he did not consider them to be properly native in his island. But it cannot possibly mean that henbsp;recognised them to be of Italian or Spanish origin. Yet if the poetrynbsp;originated c. 1500, as is contended, this should have been within hisnbsp;memory, for he was born in 1487. On the other hand Hektorovic�snbsp;description is in complete accord with the Orthodox features of thenbsp;poems. We have mentioned above that we cannot see why Dalmatiannbsp;Catholics (�Latins�) should wish to represent the Hungarians asnbsp;Orthodox. But if the poems were originally Serbian the difficulty disappears. There is no pronounced feeling for nationality, as we have seen,nbsp;and the Hungarian characters are not thought of as acting differentlynbsp;from the rest.

It is only as characters in poems that the Hungarian heroes could be represented thus; if they had been introduced into the poems in Dalmatia, from memory or historical records, such a mistake could not havenbsp;been made. Indeed there can be little doubt that practically the wholenbsp;personnel of the heroic bugarhice were introduced into Dalmatia asnbsp;�characters�. Why should Dalmatian poets concern themselves with thenbsp;feelings of Vladislav�s sister or Sekula�s mother or even Barbara, thenbsp;wife of Fiery Vuk�feelings which evidently were of more interestnbsp;than the issues of national struggles.^ These persons can have becomenbsp;known in Dalmatia only as �heroines� or items in a literary legacynbsp;brought from the interior.

Regarding the character of the poetry current before the Turkish conquest we have no information, except what may be inferred from anbsp;comparison of the bugarstice with the poems found in later collections.nbsp;The milieu is essentially aristocratic, as we have seen (p. 360 ff.), and therenbsp;can be little doubt that the poems of the day circulated among this class.nbsp;Bugarstice. show what we should regard as an excessive love of ceremony.nbsp;On the other hand modern poems relating to this period sometimesnbsp;represent even princes as living the life of peasants.� This is probablynbsp;the word srbski was confused with a word sebar(ski), equivalent to rusticus ornbsp;�vulgar�. But the reference to a passage in Krizanic�s Poliglotta is of interest.nbsp;Krizanic distinguishes two variants of a poem which he has composed (both Serbian) as sarbski and latinski respectively. The first seems to be a bugarstica, the othernbsp;a poem according to Latin prosody. Krizanic�s use of sarbski (srbski} apparentlynbsp;coincides with Hektorovi�s and may therefore represent the general use of cent, xvinbsp;and xvii. The derivation of bugarstica from Ital. volgare referred to in the samenbsp;article (p. 239) need hardly be taken seriously.

� A good example is to be found in a poem publ. by Krauss, Slavische Volkforschungen, p. 333 f., in which Grgur, the father of Fiery Vuk, is represented as a peasant and building his own house (cf. p. 360, note).

to be explained by the fact that in many parts of the country the Christians were not familiar with any other form of life after the conquest. We have not found anything of the kind in bugarstice.

Was minstrelsy cultivated.^ We have seen that it is not mentioned in bugarstice or in early records which refer to the recitation of poetry.nbsp;But almost all these records come from Dalmatia. It would seem thatnbsp;instrumental accompaniment was not customary in this region. But onenbsp;would hardly be justified without further evidence in inferring the samenbsp;for the interior. The loss of the accompaniment might be accounted fornbsp;by the fact that Dalmatia was permeated by foreign influence. It isnbsp;likely enough that the primitive instruments of the Slavs had beennbsp;wholly displaced by more modem types, which may not have beennbsp;thought suitable for this purpose. For the interior no records arenbsp;available. It is clear, however, from philological evidence,^ as well asnbsp;from occasional historical references, that the use of stringed instruments was ancient and widespread among the Slavonic peoples; andnbsp;though the form of these instruments differs between one land andnbsp;another, and the Yugoslav instrument must have undergone somenbsp;change, e.g. through the introduction of the bow, in the course of time,nbsp;there seems to be no reason for doubting that its use has been continuous.nbsp;We cannot prove of course that heroic poetry was accompanied in thenbsp;fifteenth century or earlier; but in view of the general use of suchnbsp;accompaniment in later times and the widespread prevalence of thenbsp;same custom in other lands, we think it would be unwise to deny itsnbsp;existence, merely from the absence of evidence.�

In the course of our discussion we have had occasion from time to time to notice that the poems contained in modern collections, especiallynbsp;that of Karadzic, not seldom show earlier features or a better text thannbsp;bugarstice which are variants of them. This is remarkable not onlynbsp;owing to their more recent date but also because they must have undergone a change of metrical form in the course of their existence. Thenbsp;invariable decasyllabic line, with caesura always after the fourth syllable,

' The word gusle seems to occur�for various stringed instruments�in all Slavonic languages (Church Slav, g�sli, etc.). It has also many cognates, e.g. thenbsp;verb gudjeti, �to fiddle�, Ch. Slav. gQsti, �to play the harp�, etc.

� Mijatovich, Kossovo, p. 42, refers to a �Serbian tradition� that the two sons of Despot Gjorgje Brankovic, who had been blinded by order of Sultan Murad II,nbsp;took up the profession of wandering minstrels, and travelled, gusle in hand, singingnbsp;songs of the good old time. We have not been able to trace the authority for thisnbsp;statement, except for the fact that two of the Despot�s sons were blinded by Muradnbsp;(cf. Orbini, Regno d. Slavt, pp. 32�, 331). The Despot (cf. p. 3i6ff.) died in 1456.

seems not to have been finally fixed before the middle of the eighteenth century. Poems written down during the first half of that century almostnbsp;always show more or less variation, both in the length of the line and innbsp;the position of the caesura (cf. p. 338 f.). It would appear that in earliernbsp;times the line was both longer and more irregular. Moreover we maynbsp;note that the versions of the heroic poems preserved in the (irregular)nbsp;decasyllabic line in the Ragusa MS. compare unfavourably with theirnbsp;variants in Karadzic�s collection. Evidently then the poems were lessnbsp;well preserved in Dalmatia than in the interior, either in early or in laternbsp;times. Presumably they were better known and more widely cultivatednbsp;in the inland districts, where heroic poetry was still a living andnbsp;creative art.

We have no direct information as to the metrical form or forms in use before the Turkish conquest. So far as we know, no texts of poemsnbsp;written or printed before 1700 have been found except from Dalmatianbsp;and Croatia; and here the bugarstica seems to have been in general usenbsp;until near the end of the period. Since bugarbtice show little variationnbsp;in metre between one poem and another, except in the presence andnbsp;distribution of short lines, and since the earliest examples�given bynbsp;Hektorovic�go back to 1556, i.e. within about three-quarters of anbsp;century of the conquest, it seems likely that this was the form in whichnbsp;the poems were brought into Dalmatia; and Hektorovic�s expressionnbsp;Srbiki nabin (cf. p. 449 f.) points to the same conclusion. The relationshipnbsp;of this metre to the one which succeeded it is not altogether clear ;� butnbsp;there seems to be no doubt that the latter came into existence in thenbsp;seventeenth century.

The view that the bugarstica was in use throughout Yugoslavia at the time of the conquest is now, we believe, generally held except by thosenbsp;scholars who derive it from the west. On the latter theory sufficient hasnbsp;been said above. We need add only that, in regard to metre, it derives nonbsp;support from the irregularity in the length of the line and the absence ofnbsp;rhyme in the bugarstica. Other scholars, however, hold a totally different view, namely that it came into existence in the southern parts ofnbsp;the country during the fourteenth century, and gradually made its waynbsp;northwards.� This theory obviously has much more in its favour thannbsp;the other. It makes heroic poetry begin, not in a land barren of heroicnbsp;traditions, like Dalmatia, but in the country of Marko Kraljevic, andnbsp;pass on from there to the scene of the Kosovo poems, thus accounting

* It seems to be thought that the decasyllabic Une arose in Dalmatia out of a line of II-I2 syllables; but cf. p. 339.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;� Cf. Popovic, Yugoslav. Knji^evnost, p. 58.

for the two chief cycles of heroic story. Moreover it may help to explain the obscure terms bugarstica and {pjesan) bugarska (cf. p. 305). Thenbsp;latter can hardly mean anything else than �Bulgarian poem�, and thenbsp;former is probably to be connected with the same name.�

We are inclined to be sceptical of any theory which would trace the heroic poetry of the Yugoslavs to a foreign origin; for they are a peoplenbsp;who from all that is known of their early history might be expected tonbsp;have cultivated such poetry for centuries. On the other hand it wouldnbsp;doubtless be less difficult to borrow from a language like Bulgarian�nbsp;which can hardly have differed appreciably from Yugoslav in thenbsp;fourteenth century�than from an alien language like Italian. The truenbsp;explanation may be, not that heroic poetry was new, but that innovationsnbsp;were introduced from this quarter. These innovations may have had tonbsp;do with metre; the earlier Yugoslav poetry may have been more likenbsp;Russian byliny in this respect. Any such innovations would presumablynbsp;be connected with music in some way; and in this, as in other respects,nbsp;the Bulgarians, owing to their geographical position, might be expectednbsp;to be the first of the Slavonic peoples to feel the effect of foreign (Greek)nbsp;influence. But it must be understood that we give these suggestions onlynbsp;for what they are worth; they are conjectures, and nothing more. Sonbsp;far as we are aware, nothing is known of medieval Bulgarian poetry,nbsp;except such as is of a learned character. It seems to us clear that thenbsp;Yugoslavs had already a flourishing heroic poetry at the end of thenbsp;fourteenth century. This poetry preserves vivid memories of the battlenbsp;of Kosovo in 1389; and it may be said to reach back to the death ofnbsp;Vukasin in 1371. But it has only hazy recollections of the time of Dusan,nbsp;who died in 1356. Some change or new movement therefore may havenbsp;taken place about this time.

Beyond this point we do not feel inclined to express any definite opinion. In practically all the works which we have consulted the originnbsp;of Yugoslav heroic poetry is treated as a purely Yugoslav question; butnbsp;this cannot be correct.� The cultivation of heroic poetry seems to be bynbsp;no means so widespread as that of�women�s songs� (folksongs) in thisnbsp;part of Europe; but it is not limited to Yugoslavia. It is found in a partnbsp;at least�apparently the western part�of Bulgaria, in Greece, Albania

� These explanations have been current more than half a century; cf. Jagic, Arch.f. slav. Philologie^ IV. 241 f.

� The necessity for comparative study of the oral poetry of the various peoples of the Balkans is pointed out by Gaster, Slav. Rev. xn. 173 ff. Unfortunately he doesnbsp;not distinguish between the different genres.

and Slovenia. On the other hand we are not aware that there is any evidence for the existence of Hungarian, Rumanian� or (Balkan)nbsp;Turkish heroic poetry. But this may be due, in one case or another, tonbsp;the defectiveness of our knowledge. What we wish to emphasise is thatnbsp;the question needs to be treated by someone who has fuller informationnbsp;of the facts. Account is also to be taken of the widespread cultivation ofnbsp;heroic poetry in Russia and of its absence in Italy.

No Bulgarian or Slovenian heroic poems have been accessible to us. We understand that they are known only from recent times, and thatnbsp;the former deal in part with heroes who are celebrated also in Yugoslavnbsp;heroic poetry, at all events with Marko Kraljevic and with Novak andnbsp;his family. But we do not know whether the stories related of thesenbsp;heroes are the same as in Yugoslav poetry; neither have we any information as to the form and metre of the poems. There are said to benbsp;Slovenian poems relating to King Matthias and other Hungarian heroesnbsp;of the fifteenth century; and indeed early references to the existence ofnbsp;such poems are known. But we are under the impression, rightly ornbsp;wrongly, that the form and metre of these poems is under westernnbsp;influence.

With respect to Albanian heroic poetry we have derived some interesting information from Lambertz�s Volkspoesie, der Albaner. This poetry shows in many respects a close resemblance to Yugoslav heroicnbsp;poetry. The poems cover practically the same period�at all eventsnbsp;from the fifteenth century to the present time. The examples of earlynbsp;stories which are actually described give the impression of �timeless,nbsp;nameless� stories which have (secondarily) acquired names, rather thannbsp;of historical stories; but in some districts there are said to be poemsnbsp;relating to Scanderberg, who died in 1468. More interesting is thenbsp;account (p. 19 if.) of the poems which celebrate more recent events�nbsp;as late as the Balkan War of 1912�and which are doubtless of historicalnbsp;origin. They have much in common with their Yugoslav counterparts,nbsp;though perhaps more with the poems relating to theHajduci (cf. p.325 ff.)nbsp;of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries than with more recentnbsp;Montenegrin poems. They seem to be concerned with individual andnbsp;family feuds far more than with fighting on a larger scale. Here alsonbsp;imaginative (unhistorical) elements are prominent. Heads speak afternbsp;they have been cut off; and there is a supernatural being, the Sana, whonbsp;is introduced not unfrequently. She is said to have something in com-

� We gather from Gaster, ib. p. 178 ff., that the themes of some Rumanian �ballads� are derived from Bulgarian (or Yugoslav) heroic stories.

mon with the Vila; but she has also the interesting characteristic, apparently wanting to the latter, that she is the inspirer of poetry. Thenbsp;poems are regularly accompanied by a one-stringed instrument callednbsp;lahuta, which is said to be similar to the gusle.

On the other hand there are evidently some striking differences between Albanian and Yugoslav poetry. The metres are different; andnbsp;rhyme is universal, though it extends beyond pairs of lines. From thenbsp;descriptions given it would seem that the poems are usually muchnbsp;shorter, though there are said to be poems which take an hour to sing.nbsp;The sequence of events too is not described in so clear and orderly anbsp;manner, so that, unless one is familiar with the story, it is sometimesnbsp;difficult to follow the action or to know who is speaking. In all thesenbsp;characteristics Albanian poetry seems to resemble Greek heroic poetrynbsp;of the same period, rather than Yugoslav.

The history of Teutonic heroic poetry should make us hesitate to deny the existence of such poetry in times for which no evidence isnbsp;available. This poetry has much to say about heroes who lived in thenbsp;fourth, fifth and sixth centuries. One or two names go back to the thirdnbsp;century; but they are hardlymore than names. Yet apassage in Tacitus�snbsp;Annals (ii. 88) shows that heroic poetry was cultivated in Germany evennbsp;in the first century, though no trace of such poems has been preservednbsp;elsewhere. Among the Yugoslavs, as among the Teutonic peoples, thenbsp;popularity of later poems may have brought about the extinction of thenbsp;older. At all events we see no reason for supposing that heroic poetrynbsp;was a new creation of the fourteenth century. The Yugoslav poetry,nbsp;like the Russian, is typically representative of a class of oral literaturenbsp;which can be traced from England to the Altai.

Note. In a series of articles� published in Revue des Courses et Conf�rences, 1932, of which unfortunately we had not heard until this volume was innbsp;print. Prof. A. Vaillant has pointed out (p. 432) that references to Yugoslavnbsp;heroic poets occur as early as 1415 in Polish records, and probably also innbsp;a Greek record dating from 1328. He thinks (p. 443 f.) that the bugarsticanbsp;came from the south (as on p. 453 f., above), and that it was derived fromnbsp;Greek. On the other hand he holds (p. 641 ff.) that the Kosovo poems andnbsp;also those of Marko Kraljevid (p. 631 f.) are derived from (hypothetical)nbsp;written romances or poems inspired by the Chansons de Geste�a viewnbsp;which seems to us highly improbable (cf. Note on p. 433, above).

* We are much indebted to the kindness of Prof. A. Mazon for sending us copies of these important articles.

The ancient literatures of the East seem at first sight to present a striking contrast to those of the West. Students who have concentrated their attention on the latter cannot but be struck by thenbsp;overwhelming preponderance of the religious element in the East. Yetnbsp;in point of fact it will be seen that the same genres are to be found in thenbsp;East as in the West; the difference lies mainly in the proportions ofnbsp;what has survived.

In India the earliest period of (surviving) literature is dominated by hymns, the next by ritual works, followed by works of a mysticalnbsp;(philosophical) character. All these forms of literature are but feeblynbsp;represented in the West; but it is to be borne in mind that the nativenbsp;religions of the Celtic and Teutonic peoples were displaced by a newnbsp;religion with a special (Latin) literature of its own. The native religionsnbsp;were banned.

On the other hand almost all the forms of poetry which chiefly invite attention among the ancient peoples of the West are represented also innbsp;ancient India, if only to a limited extent. But they have come down tonbsp;us only through religious channels. In secular literature the genre whichnbsp;is best represented is heroic narrative poetry. A considerable amountnbsp;of this has been preserved, but only in a later form and, in varyingnbsp;degree, transformed by�or embedded in�didactic religious elements.nbsp;For this process we have of course an analogy up to a certain point innbsp;English heroic poetry; but in the Indian examples it has been carriednbsp;immeasurably further. Saga is poorly represented in ancient India,nbsp;though it was much cultivated by the Hebrews.

Note. Transliteration. In Sanskrit words, which are printed as such, the system followed is in general that of the Cambridge History of India-, butnbsp;c, ch are used in place of ch, chh, and r in place of ri. But in proper names wenbsp;have not thought it necessary for the purposes of a work of this kind to usenbsp;diacritical marks. As a rule therefore we do not distinguish between dentalsnbsp;and linguals, or between vowel and consonantal r, or the different varietiesnbsp;of n. It may be observed that c is the Anglo-Saxon palatalised c (Mod.nbsp;Engl, ch), while � denotes a jA-sound, but distinct from Skr. sh (i). The vowelnbsp;r (r) must at one time have been pronounced as in Yugoslav.

The only literary genres which we have not been able to trace in ancient India are those which in Vol. i, Ch. xi, we included under thenbsp;term �Post-heroic poetry and saga�. We do not know of any personalnbsp;poetry or poetry of national interest except, to a limited extent, in thenbsp;earliest period. We cannot point with confidence even to narrativesnbsp;relating to times later than the Heroic Age. Consequently this Partnbsp;contains no �Post-heroic� chapter.^

India possesses a very large amount of ancient literature; but its history is difficult to trace. For the study of history as developed innbsp;Greece from the fifth century (b.c.) onwards, and eventually acquirednbsp;by the rest of Europe from Greece, early Indian literature has no truenbsp;parallel. From foreign sources hardly any information is available beforenbsp;the time of Alexander the Great, while native inscriptions begin somewhat later�in the early part of the third century. Some written literaturenbsp;is generally believed to have been already in existence, though its amountnbsp;and date are difficult to determine. To this question we shall have tonbsp;return shortly. It may be mentioned, however, that the earliest recordsnbsp;of the Buddhists are thought to have been committed to writing at leastnbsp;half a century before Alexander�s invasion. For the Buddha�s own lifetime the dates generally accepted, though not quite certain, are c. 563-483, while Mahavira, the great prophet of the Jains, is believed to havenbsp;lived c. 540-468. For times anterior to the Buddha, and to a certainnbsp;extent down to c. 300 (b.c.) or even later, we are dependent uponnbsp;genealogies and other traditional records, which are similar in general tonbsp;those available for northern Europe before the times of written literature,nbsp;though apparently less satisfactory.

There can be no question, however, that a large amount of literature of various kinds dates from before the sixth century; and in the absencenbsp;of trustworthy historical records some conclusions of a general characternbsp;can be drawn from the linguistic evidence which it yields. The languagenbsp;of the Vedic hymns, especially those of the Rigveda (Rgveda), is of anbsp;more archaic character than Classical Sanskrit. The differences betweennbsp;the two are comparable with those between Homeric Greek andnbsp;Classical Greek of the fifth century, but somewhat greater. Stagesnbsp;intermediate between the (early) Vedic and the Classical languages arenbsp;shown by the later hymns, especially those of the Atharvaveda, and by

� The reason for the omission of such a chapter in Part IV is not the same. In Hebrew �post-heroic� personal poetry is by no means wanting, while nationalnbsp;poetry is abundant. But both are bound up with mantic literature so closely thatnbsp;they will be included in the chapter dealing therewith.

461 the Br�hmanas�prose works mainly of a ritual character. On thenbsp;other hand the Classical language itself is much more archaic than thenbsp;earliest Prakrt or vernaculars. Yet the oldest inscriptions, which datenbsp;from the third century (b.c.) are in the latter; indeed the vernacularsnbsp;seem to have been used by the Buddhists and the Jains from thenbsp;beginning. Apparently therefore even by the close of the sixth centurynbsp;Sanskrit was not the language of the general population. It had alreadynbsp;come to be in some sense a literary language, or at least limited to annbsp;educated class or classes. Later its use came to be somewhat similar tonbsp;that of Latin in the Dark Ages. Its form was finally fixed by the grammarians, especially Panini, who lived probably in the fourth century.

The linguistic evidence then points to four stages or periods in the early history of the literature. Period I is represented by the earliernbsp;hymns of the Rgveda, Period II by the later hymns, especially those ofnbsp;the Atharvaveda. But many of die hymns contained in the Rgvedanbsp;itself, especially in Book x, are also believed to date from this latternbsp;period. The formation of the four great collections of hymns�Rgveda,nbsp;Yajurveda, S�maveda, Atharvaveda�is assigned to the same times.nbsp;Period III is that of the Br�hmanas and the earlier Upanishads�prosenbsp;works of a mystical and philosophical character, which are usuallynbsp;attached to the Br�hmanas. Period IV is that of Classical Sanskrit andnbsp;the vernacular literatures.

To these periods the following dates are commonly assigned d to I from (b.c.) 1200 to 1000, to II from 1000 to 800, to III from 800 to 600 ornbsp;550. The earlier Upanishads are believed to date from the close of thenbsp;third period, perhaps c. 600-550. These dates, however, can only benbsp;regarded as more or less provisional. The evidence seems to point tonbsp;the use of a type of language closely approximating to Classicalnbsp;Sanskrit in the sixth century�though the form was not absolutelynbsp;fixed before the fourth�and also to the literary use (in some sense) ofnbsp;the vernaculars in the fifth century. But there appears to be little or nonbsp;definite evidence for the earlier dates, apart from considerations of thenbsp;length of time required for the changes in the language.

The early history of wri ting in India is still obscure. It was apparently used in the basin of the Indus as far back as the third millennium (b.c.).nbsp;But there is no evidence to connect this early writing with the writingnbsp;of historical times. It is still undeciphered, and the language is unknown. The early history of India is unknown; but there is no reasonnbsp;� Cf. Cambridge History of India, I. 697.

for supposing that Aryan languages penetrated into the country until many centuries after this time.

The next writing which has as yet been found in India is upon coins dating from the time of Alexander the Great; but examples are rarenbsp;before the following century. From c. 250 (b.c.) inscriptions uponnbsp;stone monuments and copper plates (recording deeds and transactionsnbsp;of various kinds) begin to be numerous; and shortly afterwards manynbsp;coins were minted with both Indian and Greek inscriptions. By meansnbsp;of these it has been possible to reconstruct in large measure the historynbsp;of the centuries immediately before and after the beginning of thenbsp;Christian era.

The language of the Indian inscriptions is Aryan�at first usually some form of Prakrt. The writing is of two varieties, Kharoshthi andnbsp;Br�hm�. The former is derived from Aramaic�which was widely usednbsp;in Mesopotamia and neighbouring lands under the Persian and latenbsp;Assyrian empires�and, like Aramaic, it is written from right to left. Itnbsp;is believed to have been introduced into India in the fifth century. Innbsp;the north-west of the country it had a long life, perhaps a thousand years,nbsp;though its use seems to have been declining after the third century, a.d.

Br�hmi is believed to be derived from an earlier form of Aramaic� or possibly Phoenician�writing, though unlike all Semitic alphabets, itnbsp;was almost always written from left to right. From the forms of thenbsp;letters it is thought to have been borrowed c. 800 (b.c.) or even earlier;nbsp;but this date seems to be regarded as somewhat conjectural. Fromnbsp;Br�hmi are derived most of the alphabets of India, including N�garinbsp;or Devan�gari, the alphabet in which Sanskrit is usually written.

There are said to be very few Indian MSS. earlier than the late Middle Ages in India itself; but in Chinese Turkestan and elsewhere manynbsp;MSS. of the fifth century (and even earlier) have been found. Thenbsp;materials generally in use were of a very fragile nature, birch-bark andnbsp;palm-leaves. Parchment seems never to have been employed, papernbsp;only in modern times.

The question which concerns us is when writing first came into use for literary purposes. It is generally agreed that its use at first was fornbsp;purposes of trade; we may presumably add correspondence, as innbsp;Europe. But there is apparently no definite evidence for written literature before the fourth century (b.c.),� and it seems to be the prevailing

* References to reading such as occur in translations of (e.g.) the Ch�ndogya Upanishad, vii. i. 2, must not be pressed. Rgvedam adhyemi (cf. addiy�ya,nbsp;�chapter�) need mean no more than �I study the Rgveda� (from memory).

463 opinion that the use of writing for literary purposes did not developnbsp;before the fifth? Down to that time literature is believed to have beennbsp;preserved wholly by oral tradition. And even later�down to modernnbsp;times, so far at least as the Vedas are concerned�written texts seem tonbsp;have been of secondary importance. It is said that if all the writtennbsp;and printed copies of the Rgveda were to be lost, the text could benbsp;restored at once with complete accuracy.�

In the first volume we insisted repeatedly that the importance of oral tradition is under-estimated by modern scholars. We confess, however,nbsp;that we are staggered by what is generally claimed for oral tradition innbsp;India. It is not so much the amount that was memorised. The Rgvedanbsp;is said to be about equal in extent to the Iliad and the Odyssey com-bined.3 More difficulty would be presented by the Br�hmanas, whichnbsp;are in prose; the �atapatha Br�hmana is more than three times as longnbsp;as the Iliad. But the really astonishing thing is that this tradition wasnbsp;strictly verbal; the texts were memorised in obsolete forms of language.

Oral tradition of a freer kind and in more or less modernised forms of language seems to be found in India, just as in Europe. Examples willnbsp;be noticed later. And the preservation of the royal genealogies isnbsp;apparently no better�indeed less good�than in Europe. But with thenbsp;religious works which we are now considering the case is different. Thenbsp;text of the Rgveda is believed to have been finally fixed, withoutnbsp;variants, c. 600 b.c.'^ Another text of the same collection, known as thenbsp;Pada text, is thought to have been constituted not much later. In thisnbsp;text, which has also been preserved, each word appears in its (supposed)nbsp;original form, unaffected by the final and initial changes which arenbsp;regularly caused by following and preceding words. Further, it appearsnbsp;that oral commentaries on the text may be traced to the same period.nbsp;A scholar named Yaska, who is believed to have lived in the fifth century (b.c.), refers to five collections of obscure Vedic words and givesnbsp;the names of seventeen previous commentators.5

We know of no European parallels to such activities as these, except of course in written works, where they are common enough, especiallynbsp;perhaps in Ireland. The student of early Western literature is naturallynbsp;inclined to suspect that too late a date has been assigned to the applica-

� Cf. Rapson, Ancient India, p. 37; Wintemitz, Gesch. d. ind. Litteratur, i. 31 (where this statement is said to apply to a great part of Indian literature).

3 Cf. Macdonell, Sanskrit Literature, p. 41. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;* Op. cit. p. 50.

tion of writing to literature, and that, in spite of the silence of the records, writing must have been in use for literary purposes when these activitiesnbsp;began. Some scholars indeed hold that it was in use when the text of thenbsp;Rgveda was fixed, and even when the collection was made.� In thisnbsp;connection it may be observed that the oral tradition postulated for thenbsp;Vedas and for the Br�hmanas does not seem to be quite identical. Thenbsp;texts of both apparently represent the pronunciation of the Br�hmananbsp;period (Period III). But the texts of the Vedas are said�on metricalnbsp;grounds��not to represent exactly the pronunciation of the hymns innbsp;the times in which they were composed, i.e. in Periods I and II. Thisnbsp;may point to some use of writing for literary purposes before the end ofnbsp;Period III, though the form of the literary language was not finallynbsp;fixed until later.

The question involved here is of course one which only Sanskrit scholars can decide. But even if the earlier date for the use of writingnbsp;should prove to be correct, the extent to which oral tradition was cultivated is remarkable enough, and in excess of anything which we havenbsp;found in Europe. Possibly the Druids of Gaul may have attained annbsp;equal proficiency; but their learning perished with them.

In order to obviate any possible misunderstanding it ought perhaps to be mentioned here that there is evidence in the Vedas pointing to anbsp;time when oral tradition was more free. Variants in the text of individualnbsp;hymns in the Rgveda are almost unknown; but there are hymns whichnbsp;are variants of other hymns in the Rgveda, while variants betweennbsp;diff�rent Vedas, e.g. the Rgveda and the Atharvaveda, are numerous.nbsp;These will require notice later.

� We may refer (e.g.) to Whitney, Sanskrit Grammar, Sect. 329 f., 356a, h, and perhaps 135 c, 209, 210 a.

INDIA had a Heroic Age, similar in general characteristics to the Heroic Ages discussed in the previous volume. As usual, this agenbsp;belonged to times which may practically be regarded as prehistoric.

Its chronology indeed is perhaps even more difficult to determine than that of the Greek Heroic Age. We shall therefore begin with a briefnbsp;account of the records. Only what may be called primary authoritiesnbsp;can be noticed; but it should be borne in mind that heroic stories continued to furnish themes to poets and dramatists in later times, just as innbsp;Europe, and indeed for a longer period.

In this chapter we shall deal only with heroic matter. Non-heroic stories relating to the Heroic Age will be considered in Ch. IV. Thenbsp;records which require notice here consist of heroic poetry of Types A,nbsp;C and D, and some antiquarian poetry. There appears to be no heroicnbsp;poetry of Type E, and no heroic saga. This is worth noting,^ becausenbsp;saga, combined with poetry of Type B, occurs in non-heroic storiesnbsp;and elsewhere. For these �types� see p. 2.

Type D is directly represented only by one or two poems, which date from the Heroic Age itself. The other records, at least in theirnbsp;present form, date from much later times.

The great storehouse of heroic stories � is the Mahabharata, a poem of prodigious length, containing about 100,000 couplets. The nucleus ofnbsp;the poem is the story of a certain family; but to this have been added 3

� Several modern scholars have expressed the view that Sanskrit narrative poetry is derived from saga (in a free form), interspersed with poetry of Type B. They seemnbsp;not to have distinguished between heroic and non-heroic. We believe this explanation to be true for the latter, perhaps also for stories of the gods; but we cannot findnbsp;any evidence for it in the former case. It will be seen later that heroic and non-heroic poetry are of essentially different origin, except possibly in Type D.

* For further information on this subject, as also on those treated in Ch. V, we may refer the reader to Sidhanta, The Heroic Age of India. Prof. Sidhanta has treatednbsp;these subjects more fully than it is possible for us to do.

3 Evidence for the expansion of the poem is to be found in certain statements contained in it. In i. ii the number of couplets in the various sections is given in detail, and the total (including the Hariv�m�a) comes to 100,000. But in i. i. loi it is saidnbsp;to have originally contained 24,000 couplets, while another passage (i. i. 81) seemsnbsp;to imply 8,800 couplets�which is not much longer than the Iliad. To this questionnbsp;we shall have to return later.

numerous episodes, unconnected with the central theme, and a vast amount of didactic matter of various kinds, including theological andnbsp;antiquarian elements and even laws. It is agreed by the great majoritynbsp;of modem scholars that the central theme was originally a heroic story;nbsp;and in part it still retains this character, though it has itself incorporatednbsp;a very large amount of non-heroic and didactic matter. Some of thenbsp;episodes also are of heroic origin; and at least one of them preservesnbsp;heroic features better than the central story. But most of the additionsnbsp;are non-heroic, and the poem as a whole is in its present form predominantly of this character.

It may be remarked here that the contrast between heroic and non-heroic elements is as a rule very clearly marked in early Indian literature. In general heroic stories are concerned with persons of the Kshatriya ornbsp;princely caste, non-heroic stories primarily with Brahmans. Referencesnbsp;to the other castes are rare. But stories of princes whose fame is due tonbsp;piety and asceticism, rather than to prowess, or who come to griefnbsp;through impiety, must be regarded as non-heroic. They are doubtless ofnbsp;Brahmanic origin. This subject, however, will require to be treated innbsp;more detail in Ch. IV.

The chief events of the central story may be summarised briefly as follows: � P�ndu, a prince of the Kuru, whose territories lay in the uppernbsp;basins of the Ganges and the Jumna, dies and leaves five sons, the chief ofnbsp;whom are Yudhishthira, Bhima and Arjuna. His brother Dhrtar�shtra,nbsp;who is blind, brings up P�ndu�s sons with his own. The former soonnbsp;distinguish themselves by their prowess, and Yudhishthira is designatednbsp;as successor to the throne. But Dhrtar�shtra�s sons are filled withnbsp;jealousy, especially Duryodhana, the eldest, and contrive to turn theirnbsp;father against their cousins, though they are opposed by Bhishma, thenbsp;king�s uncle, Drona, a Brahman who is also a warrior, and the judgenbsp;Vidura, who is the king�s illegitimate half-brother. The chief supporternbsp;of the king�s sons is a famous warrior named Karna, who is not anbsp;prince but a charioteer�s son. Eventually Duryodhana entices hisnbsp;cousins to a house made of inflammable materials, which is set on fire.nbsp;The princes escape to the forest by an underground passage, togethernbsp;with their mother, Kunt�; but they are believed to have perished.

For a time the brothers live, disguised as Brahmans, in the forest, where Bhima, who is immensely strong, kills two cannibal monsters

� A much fuller summary is given by Winternitz, Gesch. d. ind. Litter at ur, I. 275 ff.; an abridged verse transi, by R. Dutt, The Ramayana and the Mahabharata (Everyman). Complete (prose) transi, by M. N. Dutt, The Mahabharata.

467 (R�kshasa), somewhat similar to Grendel. Then they hear that Dru-pada, king of the Panc�la, a neighbouring people, is about to hold anbsp;svayamvara� for his daughter Krshn�, generally called Draupadi, andnbsp;that all the princes of the country are making their way to his court.nbsp;They set off with many other Brahmans to see the ceremony, supportingnbsp;themselves by begging. The successful suitor has to string a certain verynbsp;strong bow, and then to shoot through a lofty mark. The assemblednbsp;princes, including the sons of Dhrtar�shtra, fail to accomplish the task.nbsp;Only Kama succeeds in stringing the bow; but he is disqualified bynbsp;Draupadi from proceeding further, on the ground that he is not anbsp;prince. Then Arjuna steps forward and successfully carries out bothnbsp;tasks. He is accepted by the bride and her father; but some of the princesnbsp;are deeply angered at the prize being won by a Brahman. They make annbsp;attack upon the king, but are driven off by Bhima and Arjuna. Afternbsp;this the heroes disclose their identity; and Draupadi is married to themnbsp;all, in accordance with what they deciare to be their ancestral custom.�nbsp;Drupada now brings about peace between his sons-in-law and theirnbsp;cousins; and Dhrtar�shtra cedes half his kingdom to Yudhishthira,nbsp;with a new capital at Indraprastha, near Delhi. Arjuna unintentionallynbsp;breaks the covenant which the brothers had made with regard to theirnbsp;relations with Draupadi, and insists on going into exile as a hermit fornbsp;twelve years. During this time, however, he lives a rather active life,nbsp;and even has several love-adventures. At her brother�s suggestion henbsp;carries off and marries Subhadr�, the sister of his friend Krshna, a princenbsp;of the Yadu. By her he has a son named Abhimanyu. After his returnnbsp;home the family, by conquest and influence, acquire a dominant position among the peoples of northern India, and Yudhishthira offers anbsp;sacrifice which signifies the recognition of his supremacy.

After this Dhrtar�shtra�s sons invite Yudhishthira to play dice with their mother�s brother, �akuni. Yudhishthira stakes all his propertynbsp;and even his own and his brothers� freedom, and loses everything.nbsp;Dhrtar�shtra�s sons claim Draupadi as a slave and insult her. The kingnbsp;eventually annuls the proceedings; but his sons again entice Yudhishthira to play. This time it is agreed that they are to go into exile in thenbsp;forest for twelve years and to remain in concealment for a thirteenthnbsp;year. They carry out the engagement, and spend the last year in thenbsp;service of Virata, king of the Matsya, a people to the south of the Kuru.

' The ceremony at which the bride chooses herself a husband from the assembled suitors.

At the end of the time they make themselves known; Arjuna defeats a great cattle-raid made by the princes of the Kuru. Vir�ta and Drupadanbsp;now take up the heroes� cause, and demand the restoration of theirnbsp;kingdom. Dhrtar�shtra�s sons refuse, against the advice of the oldernbsp;leaders, as usual; and both sides prepare for war. All the kings ofnbsp;northern India take part in it.

The battle is described * at very great length, and is said to last nearly three weeks. The Kuru army is commanded first by Bhishma, then bynbsp;Drona, then by Karna, and lastly by a prince named �alya. All of thesenbsp;are killed, the three first by unfair means; and all the sons of Dhrtar�-shtra also are slain. The opposing army is commanded by Dhrshtady-umna, son of Drupada, who is killed at the end of the battle. Drupadanbsp;himself also, Vir�ta, Abhimanyu and many other princes perish. Thenbsp;account of the battle is followed (xi. xvi ff.) by the elegy of G�ndh�r�,nbsp;the wife of Dhrtar�shtra, in which she laments her sons and describesnbsp;the scene on the battlefield.

It is held by some scholars that the original poem ended with the funeral. At all events what follows contains little of a heroic character.nbsp;Yudhishthira, now king of the Kuru, discovers that Karna was hisnbsp;brother, and offers a great horse-sacrifice to atone for the sin of hisnbsp;death. Finally, Yudhishthira gives up the kingdom to Parikshit, son ofnbsp;Abhimanyu, and retires to heaven with his brothers and Draupad�.�

Even from the short summary given above it will be obvious that, apart from more or less irrelevant additions, the original story itself hasnbsp;been expanded from within by the repetition of motifs and incidents,nbsp;such as the exile in the forest. Examples seem to be very numerous, andnbsp;provide much interesting material for the study of variants. It can hardlynbsp;be doubted too that many new incidents, both heroic and (morenbsp;especially) non-heroic, relating to the heroes themselves, have beennbsp;added in the course of time. In the abstract given above we have

� The description is in the form of a series of speeches by a messenger named Sanjaya, who returns from the battlefield from time to time and narrates to Dhrtar�shtra what is happening.

� It may be remarked that the abstract given above does not claim to represent evenly the contents of the various Books. All the events down to and including thenbsp;marriage of Draupadi are contained in Book i. Book ii ends with the exile of thenbsp;heroes after the dice-playing. Book m is mainly occupied with episodes related tonbsp;Yudhishthira during his exile; Book iv with the adventures in Matsya; Book v withnbsp;the deliberations before the battle. Books vi�x are occupied with the battle itself;nbsp;Book XI with the lamentations and the funeral. The remaining Books are mainlynbsp;didactic.

469 noticed only the more important�and probably older�elements innbsp;the story.

Next we may take the story of Nala, which is related (in in. lii-lxxix) by a sage named Brhada�va to Yudhishthira, during his exile in thenbsp;forest. This story is of special importance, because it is much more freenbsp;from Brahmanic influence than the central story. The interest is essentially heroic throughout, though it deals exclusively with times ofnbsp;peace.

The story falls into two parts, of which the first (i-v) deals with the hero�s marriage. Nala, king of the Nishadha, sees some swans withnbsp;golden plumage. He catches one of them ; and it offers to be his envoy tonbsp;the beautiful Damayanti, daughter of Bh�ma, king of the Vidarbha?nbsp;The swans then fly to Vidarbha, where they find Damayanti with hernbsp;maidens. She sends a suitable reply, and then falls into a deep lovesickness. Her father, though he knows nothing of the message, decidesnbsp;to hold a svayamvara for her; and the princes set out from far and widenbsp;in gorgeous array. In the meantime Indra finds that no heroes arenbsp;coming to his abode�i.e. there is no fighting�and learns from thenbsp;sage N�rada that they are all on the way to Damayanti�s svayamvara.nbsp;He and the other gods, Agni, Varuna and Yama, decide to go there too.nbsp;On the way they meet with Nala and commission him to be theirnbsp;messenger to Damayanti. He is naturally reluctant; but when he learnsnbsp;who they are, he sees there is nothing for it but to obey. They enablenbsp;him to make his way unseen into the presence of Damayanti. He tellsnbsp;her who he is, and gives her the message of the gods, saying she is tonbsp;choose which of the four she will. She replies that she will have Nalanbsp;himself; and when he points out the danger, she says he must come tonbsp;the svayamvara, and then she will choose him in the presence of thenbsp;gods. Then the ceremony takes place. In this case no feats are required;nbsp;the lady seems to have complete freedom of choice. But when shenbsp;enters the hall, she finds among the suitors five figures exactly likenbsp;Nala, and is unable to make out which is the real man. Realising thenbsp;trick played upon her by the gods, she prays to them to show the signsnbsp;of divinity. They yield to her appeal, and she can now distinguish themnbsp;�casting no shadows, their feet not touching the ground, their eyesnbsp;motionless, their garlands not drooping. Nala alone remains without

� Berar in the Central Provinces. The scene of this story seems to be located chiefly in central India. The Nishadha were perhaps the western neighbours of thenbsp;Vidarbha�not very far to the N.E. of Bombay; cf. Sidhanta, op. cit. p. 13.

the divine attributes, and she lays her garland on his shoulders. The gods give them their blessings and depart; and the marriage takes placenbsp;soon afterwards.

The second and much longer part of the story (vi to the end) follows after a long interval. Kali, a dice-demon, who has a grudge against Nalanbsp;for his marriage, succeeds in getting possession of him after elevennbsp;years. He challenges his brother Pushkara, and stakes and loses everything that he has, except his wife. Damayant� does everything possiblenbsp;to avert the calamity, and finally sends away the children to her father.nbsp;Then she accompanies her husband alone to the forest. Nala, who isnbsp;beside himself with despair and shame, forsakes her while she is asleep,nbsp;and divides the only cloak they have left. Damayanti�s grief and despair,nbsp;when she awakes, are described at length. She meets with a caravan ofnbsp;merchants and, after a disastrous attack by wild elephants, arrives safelynbsp;at the city of the Cedi. Here she becomes maid to the queen, who is hernbsp;aunt but does not know her. Meanwhile Bhima has been sendingnbsp;Brahmans in all directions to make enquiries. Eventually they discovernbsp;his daughter and bring her home. Then she sends them out again tonbsp;search for Nala; and from the reports she suspects that he has becomenbsp;charioteer to Rtuparna, king of Ayodhya (Oude). Now she sends wordnbsp;to Rtuparna that she is to have a second svayamvara. He sets out at fullnbsp;speed with Nala. He has a remarkable skill in counting, as Nala has innbsp;driving. On the way they agree to exchange these gifts, and the demonnbsp;Kali is thereupon expelled from Nala. Nala is recognised by his wife,nbsp;although his form has been changed. Now he regains his own form,nbsp;and they are happily reunited. With his new gift he challenges hisnbsp;brother again, and wins back his kingdom and all his property.

It has often been remarked that this story�the second part of it� shows a general resemblance to the Odyssey. One must of coursenbsp;eliminate the maritime element in the latter, and also those portionsnbsp;which are concerned with � fairy-land � and with folktales. Also it is tonbsp;be observed that in the story of Nala, as in early Indian stories generally,nbsp;the women are much stronger characters than the men, and indeed farnbsp;superior to them in every way.

Mention may next be made of a short piece in v. cxxxiii ff., which seems to be taken from a heroic story.� It is related by Kunti to Krshna, as anbsp;message to her sons. Its special interest lies in the apparently completenbsp;absence of Brahmanic influence. A prince named Sanjaya has been

' Cf. Winternitz, Gesch. d. ind. Litteratwr, I. 328 ff., where a few passages are translated.

471 overthrown by his enemies; and the piece consists mainly of fierynbsp;exhortations by his mother Vidul�, bidding him rouse himself and encounter his foes again. Sanjaya tries to excuse himself on the groundnbsp;that there is no hope of success; but in the end he is unable to resist hisnbsp;mother�s scathing words. The theme has something in common withnbsp;the HamSismal, and also with the story of Ingeld, especially as related bynbsp;Saxo.�

The story of R�ma is told in iii. cclxxiii ff. It is a disputed question whether this account is taken from the R�m�yana or from earlier poems,nbsp;from which the latter itself is derived. In any case we may here give anbsp;brief account of this work.

The R�m�yana� is another poem of immense length, containing c. 24,000 couplets. It is preserved in three different texts, which varynbsp;greatly from one another. The view now generally accepted is that it isnbsp;in the main the work of one poet named V�lm�ki, who is claimed as itsnbsp;author in the poem itself, and that it was composed some time betweennbsp;the fifth and the third centuries (b.c.). Certain portions, however,nbsp;especially the first and last Books (i and vii), are believed to be additionsnbsp;made in later times, while the original matter is thought to have beennbsp;greatly expanded. These additions must have taken place before thenbsp;poem was committed to writing, for the extant texts, though they differnbsp;greatly from one another, all contain Books i and vn. The Mah�-bh�rata, however, seems to have nothing corresponding to Book vii;nbsp;and much of what is told in Book i is also wanting.

First we may briefly summarise what seems to be the original story, contained in Books ii-vi. Da�aratha, king of Ayodhy� (Oude), hasnbsp;two wives named Kau�aly� and Kaikey�. Kau�aly� has borne him hisnbsp;eldest son R�ma, Kaikey� a second son named Bharata. He has also twonbsp;other sons by a third wife. When the king grows old he decides tonbsp;retire and give the kingdom to R�ma. All preparations are made; butnbsp;when the ceremony is about to begin, Kaikey� is roused to a frenzy ofnbsp;jealousy by her nurse, and demands to see the king. She reminds himnbsp;that he has once given her his word that he will grant her any two requests she may make; and she now calls upon him to send R�ma intonbsp;exile for fourteen years and appoint her own son Bharata in his place.

� The exhortations of Starcatherus, given in Latin verse by the latter, p. 251 ff. (204 ff.), are doubtless based upon vernacular poetry (cf. Beow. 2041 ff.).

� Transi. (Italian) by Gorresio; (Engl.) by Griffith (verse) and M. N. Dutt (prose). Abridged transi, (selections) by R. Dutt, The Ramayana and the Mahabharata (Everyman). Abstract by Wintemitz, op. cit. I. 409 ff.

The king is overwhelmed with grief; but Kama insists upon his keeping his word, and sets off into exile in the forest. He is accompanied by hisnbsp;wife Sit�, daughter of Janaka, king of Videha, and by his youngernbsp;brother Lakshmana. Soon after his departure his father dies. Bharata,nbsp;who has been away during this time, comes home, and has no mind tonbsp;take his brother�s place. He follows Kama to the forest, and tries tonbsp;persuade him to return, but without success. Then he takes Rama�snbsp;sandals, and places them on the throne, consenting to act as regent,nbsp;though not in the capital, during his brother�s absence. Kama and hisnbsp;companions set off to the Deccan.

The rest of the story, contained in Books lil-vi, can hardly be regarded otherwise than as romance. In principle it resembles thenbsp;romantic part of the Odyssey, though it is largely concerned withnbsp;fighting. R�ma and his wife and brother make their home in a forest onnbsp;the Godavari, where they come into conflict with R�kshas�s. A R�k-shasa woman, whose advances to R�ma are repelled with scorn andnbsp;injury, appeals to her brother R�vana, the king, for vengeance. Henbsp;carries off Sit� when the heroes are away from their hut, and flies awaynbsp;with her to his capital on the island of Lank�later identified withnbsp;Ceylon. R�ma, distraught with grief, sets off to look for her and meetsnbsp;with Sugriva, an exiled prince of the apes, whom he assists in recoveringnbsp;his kingdom. Sugriva has a wise councillor named Hanumat, who goesnbsp;to search for Sit�, and eventually finds her imprisoned in Lank�. R�manbsp;then sets out with an army of apes, who build him a bridge, and after longnbsp;and desperate fighting, which is described in full detail, succeeds innbsp;capturing the island and slaying R�vana. Sit� proves her fidelity by thenbsp;ordeal of fire.� The time of R�ma�s exile is now at an end, and henbsp;flies back to Ayodhy� with Sit� and Lakshmana in a car drawn bynbsp;swans. Here he is joyfully welcomed by Bharata, who gives up thenbsp;government to him.

Books I and vii show marked Brahmanic influence. In Book i the gods are much troubled by R�vana and beg Vishnu to become incarnatenbsp;in order to destroy him. Da�aratha offers a sacrifice for children, andnbsp;by this obtains R�ma, who is Vishnu incarnate, and his other sons. Laternbsp;there is an account of the svayamvara of Sit�, which involves the featnbsp;of stringing a mighty bow. In this story all Da�aratha�s sons are marriednbsp;to daughters of Janaka, though in the subsequent Books Lakshmana is

� There is no ordeal in the Mahabharata; but the gods (V�yu, Agni, Varuna and Brahma), together with R�ma�s father, come to bear witness to S�t�s fidelitynbsp;(in. ccxc).

473 unmarried. It is stated that S�t� was not an ordinary child, but sprangnbsp;from a furrow when Janaka was ploughing.�

Book vn is largely occupied with antiquarian matter. Only a comparatively small part of it relates to Kama, and in this he cuts a poor figure. He sends his faithful wife away to the forest owing to popularnbsp;feeling against her, because she has been in the hands of Havana. Soonnbsp;afterwards she bears him two sons named Ku�a and Lava. She isnbsp;sheltered by the hermit V�lmiki, who brings up the boys and teachesnbsp;them the poem, of which he is the author. After many years Kama offersnbsp;a great horse-sacrifice, and during the festivities the boys recite the storynbsp;of his adventures. Rama recognises them as his sons, and invites Sit�,nbsp;through V�lmiki, to come and clear herself by an oath. Sit� comes andnbsp;adjures the earth-goddess to prove her fidelity. The earth then opens;nbsp;the goddess appears on her throne, clasps Sit� in her arms, and disappears again with her. R�ma is left disconsolate.

The differences between heroic and non-heroic in Indian records are in general so clearly marked as to leave little room for doubt as tonbsp;which of the two categories a story belongs to�even when a heroicnbsp;story is deeply overlaid with non-heroic (Brahmanic) elements. Therenbsp;are, however, in the Mah�bh�rata certain cases where the originalnbsp;provenance is not obvious at first sight.

First we may take the famous story of S�vitri (in. ccxcii ff.). This story is so well known that it is hardly necessary to give an abstract here.nbsp;It is commonly held to be of Brahmanic origin, though doubts havenbsp;been expressed.� The tone is certainly religious to a high degree, andnbsp;Brahmans enter much into the story; but they hardly influence thenbsp;course of events. Indeed their presence with King Dyumatsena is morenbsp;or less accidental; for he has fled to the forest as an exile and refugee.nbsp;The essential and dominant feature of the story is the heroine�s determination and resourcefulness, which causes the god of death (Yama) tonbsp;desist from his purpose. This feature seems to us rather to suggest anbsp;heroic (Kshatriya) provenance, for women are not as a rule prominentnbsp;in Brahmanic literature. Moreover Brahmanism has nothing to gainnbsp;from the story. We suspect that, like certain Norse heroic poems (cf.

Vol. I, p. 599), it originated among women, presumably women of princely families.� Its religious character is hardly incompatible withnbsp;such an origin. We think that, like the story of Nala, it is the product of anbsp;religious aristocratic society, not of a priestly class. But the dialoguenbsp;between S�vitri and Yama (iii. ccxcvi) has doubtless been much affectednbsp;by Brahmanic influence.

Another story which should perhaps be noticed here is that of �akuntal�, which is related in i. Ixviii ff. She is said to be the daughternbsp;of the great seer Vi�v�mitra and a nymph (Apsaras) named Menak�. Shenbsp;is deserted by her mother, and discovered and brought up by the seernbsp;Kanva. King Dushmanta, who has lost his way while hunting, comes tonbsp;Kanva�s hermitage and falls in love with �akuntal�; but she will havenbsp;no relations with him until he promises that her son shall be his successor. Some years later she comes to his court with her child, who isnbsp;called Bharata, and claims the fulfilment of his promise. She pleads hernbsp;cause at length; but the king will not recognise her until a voice fromnbsp;heaven declares that she is speaking the truth.

This story presents more than one problem. In the genealogies (i. xciv f.) this Bharata is referred to the remote past. He is the ancestornbsp;of the Kuru kings, Dhrtar�shtra, Yudhishthira and Janamejaya, who arenbsp;frequently described as Bh�rata, i.e. descendant of Bharata; and it isnbsp;from him that the kingdom (dynasty) of the Bharata�very prominentnbsp;in the Rgveda from the earliest times�derives its name. If the Bharatanbsp;of the story is really this person, his origin is presumably to be traced tonbsp;antiquarian tradition or speculation. It is possible, however, that hisnbsp;identification with the eponymos is secondary; for other persons of thisnbsp;name are known, e.g. the brother of Kama. Again, the story in itsnbsp;present form is pronouncedly non-heroic. �akuntal� is the daughternbsp;and foster-daughter of famous seers; and the gnomes attributed to hernbsp;are not of heroic type, like those of Vidul�. Moreover Brahmanicnbsp;tradition celebrates Bharata as a famous sacrificer.� But the evidence isnbsp;not wholly conclusive; for another Brahmanic tradition describesnbsp;�akuntal� herself as an Apsaras.3 It is possible therefore that the seersnbsp;may have been introduced into the story, in order to claim a partlynbsp;Brahmanic origin for Bharata.

� It is to such persons that S�vitri�s position as an heiress (without brothers)� which entitles her to travel in quest of a husband�would most naturally appeal.

� In the poetry quoted in Ait. Br. vni. 23. This refers to his victories on the Ganges and the Jumna, to elephants with golden trappings, etc.�all suggesting anbsp;not very early period.

In i.xcviiff. we find another story which contains obvious Brahmanic features. A king named ��ntanu, a descendant of Bharata, marries a girlnbsp;whom he meets on the bank of the Ganges. She throws all her childrennbsp;into the river as soon as they are born. The king at last intercepts hernbsp;and saves one child, who is called Devavrata or Bhishma; and she thennbsp;leaves him, after revealing that she is Gang�, the goddess of the river.nbsp;She explains at the same time that her children are deities who have beennbsp;condemned to human incarnation ; she has therefore befriended them bynbsp;releasing them from the curse as soon as possible. Later, ��ntanu meetsnbsp;with another damsel named Satyavati, whose father will consent to thenbsp;marriage only on condition that her son shall succeed to the throne.nbsp;The king is unwilling to pass over Bhishma; but the latter settles thenbsp;question by taking a vow of celibacy, though he continues to be anbsp;warrior. After his father�s death Bhishma seeks a wife for his halfbrother Vicitravirya; and hearing that the king of K��i (Benares) isnbsp;holding a svayamvara for his three daughters, he goes there and carriesnbsp;them off, after a fight with the suitors. One of the princesses, namednbsp;Amb�, who is already betrothed, is allowed to go to her fiance. Thenbsp;other two are kept for Vicitravirya; but he dies without leavingnbsp;children. Bhishma insists on maintaining his vow of celibacy; sonbsp;Satyavati calls in Vy�sa�the author of the Mahabharata�a son whomnbsp;she has previously bom to the seer Par��ara, in order to provide heirsnbsp;for Vicitravirya. The princesses then give birth to Dhrtar�shtra andnbsp;P�ndu, while Vidura is born by one of the maids. Bhishma himself, asnbsp;we have seen, is commander of the Kuru army in the great battle,nbsp;described in Book vi.

This story, as it stands, is clearly designed to claim a Brahmanic ancestry for the heroes of the Mahabharata and their descendants, including Janamejaya. In Brahmanic poetry^ it is apparently not easy fornbsp;a prince to beget children, at least not without Brahmanic or divinenbsp;assistance. The case of Vicitravirya may be compared with that of hisnbsp;son P�ndu, who had to live as a celibate (i. cxviii ff.), because he hadnbsp;once killed a seer in the form of an antelope. His wives therefore at hisnbsp;request appealed to various deities�by means of a spell known tonbsp;Kunti�by whom they became the mothers of the heroes, Yudhishthiranbsp;and his brothers. Yet the story is so complex as to suggest that it existednbsp;in some other form, before Vy�sa was introduced into it. Indeed somenbsp;account of the heroes� family was presumably given or implied fromnbsp;the time when they first became a theme of poetry.

� Among other Brahmanic features in this story we may note the incarnation of deities�in the case of Vidura, as well as Gang�s children.

Apart from the main course of the story, Bhishma�s adventure in K�� has a sequel in the story of Amb�, which is related in v. clxxiii ff.,nbsp;and which seems to have been originally of heroic character, though itnbsp;presents a number of peculiar features. It has been mentioned above thatnbsp;when Bhishma had carried off the princesses of K�� from theirnbsp;svayamvara (cf. p. 475), the eldest of them, named Amb�, pleaded thatnbsp;she had already betrothed herself to a king called ��lva. Consequentlynbsp;Bhishma released her, and she made her way to that king. But henbsp;repudiated her on account of the abduction. Then she betakes herself tonbsp;a forest, where she finds her mother�s father, a prince of the Srnjaya,nbsp;with other ascetics. She refuses to return either to her own home or tonbsp;Bhishma, and thinks of nothing but vengeance upon the latter. Atnbsp;length she persuades the old Brahman warrior Kama son of Jamadagninbsp;(Para�u-R�ma)�not the hero of the R�m�yana�to take up her cause.nbsp;He tries first to make peace with Bhishma; but when this fails he fightsnbsp;with him, and is defeated. Amb� is now thrown back upon her ownnbsp;resources, and devotes herself to austerities with a view to obtaining vengeance. Eventually the god �iva tells her that, when she is born again,nbsp;she will become a man, and slay Bhishma. Then she piles up a funeralnbsp;pyre, and immolates herself.

King Drupada, who is childless, beseeches �iva to grant him a son, and receives the answer that he will have a daughter who will become anbsp;man. A female child is born, but is given out to be a boy and broughtnbsp;up as such. She is called �ikhandin. In course of time she marries thenbsp;daughter of a neighbouring king. Then the truth comes to light; and hernbsp;father-in-law, considering himself to be outraged, threatens Drupadanbsp;with war. �ikhandin, however, contrives to persuade a Yaksha (� elf�)nbsp;to exchange sex with her; and friendship is restored with her father-in-law, who is satisfied that he has been misinformed.

This story is told by Bhishma himself to Duryodhana on the eve of the battle, in explanation of his statement (v. clxxii. 16) that he will notnbsp;fight with �ikhandin�for he has made a vow never to slay a woman.nbsp;In the battle Bhishma is killed either by �ikhandin or by Arjuna who isnbsp;hiding behind him. There are discrepancies between different passagesnbsp;as to which of the two is the actual slayer�which can hardly have beennbsp;the case in the original form of the story, especially in view of the pronouncements of �iva. Other features � also suggest that the story has

� It is not clear why Drupada desires vengeance upon Bhishma in v. cxc. On the other hand �ikhandin seems not to be concerned with Bhishma until they meetnbsp;in battle.

undergone a considerable amount of change; and one may perhaps suspect that originally it was less closely bound up with the main themenbsp;of die Mahabharata. The fullness of detail with which it is related seemsnbsp;to point rather to its having once formed the subject of a separate poem.

The story has Brahmanic affinities in the asceticism practised by the heroine and in the idea of re-birth through sacrifice, for which we maynbsp;compare the story of Janta in iii. cxxviii. But these hardly prove that itnbsp;is of Brahmanic origin. Amb� is not a Brahman; and the only Brahmannbsp;who figures at all prominently in the story, R�ma son of Jamadagni, isnbsp;defeated. Again, it resembles the stories of Nala and of S�vitri in thenbsp;fact that the interest is centred in a woman. But Amb� has little innbsp;common with Damayanti or S�vitri except her resolute character; andnbsp;the sympathy is not on her side. Her nearest analogy is to be found innbsp;Brynhildr; ' and it may reasonably be inferred that the cultivation of hernbsp;story has been inspired by a similar psychological interest, thoughnbsp;rather, we think, from a man�s point of view.

We may now briefly compare the characteristics of this poetry with those of Greek and Anglo-Saxon heroic poetry, as noted in Vol. I,nbsp;p. 20 fl�. We will confine our attention to the heroic elements in the mainnbsp;story and to the episodic stories of Nala, R�ma (together with R�-m�yana, n-vi), S�vitri and Amb�.

The first four characteristics noted in Vol. i seem to apply to these poems, just as much as to the latter. They are (i) narrative, and (2) concerned primarily with adventure. It is generally believed also thatnbsp;(3) they were originally intended for entertainment; and indeed this isnbsp;doubtless still true in the main of the stories discussed above, in spite ofnbsp;the didactic matter which has become incorporated with them. (4) Theynbsp;may, we think, be said to relate to a Heroic Age, though this age is lessnbsp;easy to define than in the West, owing to the lack of chronological data.nbsp;To this question we shall have to return later; but there can be littlenbsp;doubt that at the time when we first have definite evidence for theirnbsp;existence�say the fourth century (b.c.)�they were believed to relatenbsp;to the past, probably a more or less distant past.

(5) Like the Teutonic and (in our opinion) the Greek poems the Mah�bh�rata is generally regarded as anonymous. Vy�sa, it is true, is anbsp;much more definitely characterised person than Homer; but it is hardly

� Bhishma might be expected to agree to H�gni�s words in SigurSarkv. Sk. 45 : �Let no man stay her from the long journey (sc. to the land of the dead)�fromnbsp;whence may she never be re-bom ! �

credible either that heroic poetry could be produced by such a man, or that any one author could be responsible for both the heroic and thenbsp;Brahmanic elements in the poem. The commonly accepted view is thatnbsp;it is the work of many authors, and that its composition extended over anbsp;long period of time. On the other hand a large part of the R�m�yana isnbsp;believed to have been composed, though not written (cf. p. 471) bynbsp;V�lmiki. Both in its diction and in its treatment of the subject-matter,nbsp;and more especially in the amount of attention devoted to descriptions ofnbsp;scenery, this poem is less archaic than the Mahabharata and approximatesnbsp;more nearly to the artificial (academic) poetry of later times. Butnbsp;V�lmiki himself seems to be as shadowy a figure as Homer, apart fromnbsp;the (presumably apocryphal) references to him in Books i and vii.�

� We are not clear why V�lmiki is identified with the fourth-century poet. The references to him in the later Books (i and vii) suggest a legendary figure of the farnbsp;past (like Vy�sa), supposed to be contemporary with Rama himself. But there maynbsp;be evidence which we do not know.

� Unfortunately no heroic narrative poetry earlier than the epics has been preserved. In the Br�hmanas in place of narrative poetry we find stories told in the form of saga, with many of the speeches in verse, as in Irish sagas; and it is held by some

479 On the other hand if heroic narrative poetry was originally distinctnbsp;from Vedic (i.e. Brahmanic) poetry, an assimilation of the former to thenbsp;latter is what might be expected, when the cultivation of the former hadnbsp;passed into the hands of the Brahmans. We may compare the use of thenbsp;stanza in Norse heroic narrative poetry, noticed in Vol. I, p. 30. Conventionally all Norse poetry is regarded as stanzaic (strophic). But asnbsp;regards heroic narrative poetry�as also heroic poetry of Type B�it isnbsp;only in what are thought to be the later poems that the (four-line) stanzanbsp;is found regularly; and we believe that it has been borrowed from othernbsp;types of poetry.^

In the poetry with which we are now concerned the couplet or stanza (�loka) seems to be much more regular, though �lokas of three lines arenbsp;by no means rare. Breaks usually occur at the end of a �loka; but anbsp;sentence which begins in one �loka is frequently continued in the next.nbsp;Less frequently, but not rarely, the break occurs within the �loka�nbsp;usually at the end of the first line�instead of at the end of the �loka, asnbsp;(e.g.) in Nala, ii. 5 if. (Mah�bh. in. liv. 5 if.): (5) �Her friends knewnbsp;from the symptoms that she could not be well when she looked like this.nbsp;Then Damayanti�s company of friends to the lord of Vidarbha (6)nbsp;made known that Damayanti was not well. Prince of heroes ! � Bhima,nbsp;lord of men, having heard this from Damayanti�s company of friends,nbsp;(7) considered that this was an important matter with regard to hisnbsp;daughter: �How is it that my daughter is not looking well todaynbsp;Passages like this cannot properly be described as stanzaic poetry in anynbsp;sense. They are �running� poetry, quite parallel to that of Beowulf andnbsp;scholars that this was the original form of narrative in India�that narrative poetrynbsp;was of late growth. But all the stories told in the Br�hmanas are non-heroic stories.nbsp;If saga was the usual form for these in early times�which is extremely probable�itnbsp;must not be assumed that the same form was used for heroic stories. That could benbsp;admitted only if heroic and non-heroic stories were cultivated by the same classes ofnbsp;persons. The epics did eventually come into the hands of the Brahmans; but it isnbsp;unlikely that the cultivation of heroic stories was theirs from the beginning. The usenbsp;of the same metre for the heroic and non-heroic elements in the epics may well be anbsp;result of the annexation of the former by the Brahmans.

� It should be mentioned that some scholars believe Teutonic heroic narrative poetry to have been originally stanzaic. In view of the English and German evidencenbsp;we have no hesitation in rejecting this view. It may be added that the amount ofnbsp;emendation needed to bring certain Norse poems (e.g. the AtlakviSa or the Ham-�ismal) into four-line stanzas requires in very truth the bed of Procrustes. Suchnbsp;theories seem to proceed from an assumption that all the poetry of a given peoplenbsp;must originally have been of uniform type. We do not see why there should not havenbsp;been diverse types from time immemorial.

the Homeric poems. It may also be observed that, as in the English poem, speeches very frequently begin in the middle of a line, i.e. at thenbsp;caesura. Examples may be found in Nala, vi. 3 f., xv. 13.

* These extra-metrical phrases have sometimes been brought forward as evidence for the derivation of narrative poetry from poetry of Type B ; but we cannot see thenbsp;point of the argument. They may be borrowed from Type B, as suggested above.nbsp;Type B was certainly cultivated in India at an early date; for examples (not heroic)nbsp;occur in the Rgveda. But often they may be late additions by a reciter or scribe. Innbsp;Norse heroic poetry speeches are frequently introduced without mention of thenbsp;speaker�s name.

481 waisted� (yanumadhya)^ �long-eyed� {ayatalocana), �having a faultlessnbsp;figure� (anavady�ngi). Such epithets are especially common in thenbsp;Vocative, in speeches addressed to princes and princesses. Sometimesnbsp;one meets with strings of epithets, as in Beowulf, but of more extravagantnbsp;length. Examples may be found in Nala, i. i ff., xn. 44 if. Kenningsnbsp;like �egg-bom� {andajd) or �moving in the air� (ymtar�ksaga), appliednbsp;to birds, are not uncommon.

The correspondence with Vol. i, p. 20 ff., is in general very close. It is only in No. 7 (if the current explanation is correct) and in No. 11 thatnbsp;important differences are noticeable; and in the latter the stories of Nalanbsp;and of S�vitri do not differ greatly from the Norse heroic poems. Again,nbsp;we have not noticed any striking peculiarities in the Indian stories whichnbsp;are common to the whole group. But they differ very greatly from onenbsp;another. To a reader who is accustomed to Western heroic poetry thenbsp;story of R�ma appears strange, owing to the numerous fantastic elementsnbsp;which it contains. But that is not the case in the other episodic stories.nbsp;Imaginative elements occur everywhere; but they are not of unfamiliarnbsp;types, except here. On the whole Indian heroic narrative poetry isnbsp;doubtless far more faithfully represented by the episodes than by thenbsp;main story; for the latter has been engulfed in didactic matter and alsonbsp;apparently much expanded in other respects, e.g. by the duplication ofnbsp;incidents, as well as by extreme prolixity, especially in descriptions ofnbsp;fighting. On the other hand the story of Nala would seem to havenbsp;suffered little or nothing from such processes. Didactic elements arenbsp;less noticeable than in Beowulf.

The story of Vidul� is known only from the speeches (Type B), which naturally do not come in for consideration here; no narrative hasnbsp;been preserved. The story of �akuntal� has been adapted to didacticnbsp;purposes (Type C), if indeed it is properly to be regarded as a heroicnbsp;story�which seems to us very doubtful. Large elements in the mainnbsp;story also belong to Type C; but these are generally believed to benbsp;accretions to the original story.

Type D (heroic) is not directly represented in the Mahabharata. A secondary instance (BD), however, is to be found in Gandh�ri�snbsp;lament for her sons (xi. 16 ff.), which is doubtless based upon elegies ornbsp;dirges in actual use. Apart from its length, it bears a general resemblancenbsp;to European compositions of this kind. Heroic panegyrics are verynbsp;frequently mentioned in the Mahabharata; but apparently no examplesnbsp;are given at length. Some references will be noted in the lastnbsp;chapter.

A much earlier instance of Type D is to be found in the Atharvaveda, XX. 127, a poem which seems to consist of two quite independentnbsp;panegyrics. The first celebrates the generosity of a certain Kaurama,nbsp;king of the Ru�ama, a people or dynasty occasionally mentioned in thenbsp;Rgveda. Of Kaurama himself apparently nothing is known elsewhere.nbsp;The second is a panegyric upon Parikshit, king of the Kuru, and describes the prosperity and peace which prevail under his rule. This kingnbsp;is in all probability to be identified with the Parikshit, son of Abhimanyunbsp;and father of Janamejaya,�' to whom we have referred above (p. 481).nbsp;In the Mahabharata (xiv. Ixvi If.) he is said to have been a posthumousnbsp;child, born shortly after the battle which forms the climax of the story.nbsp;It would seem then that this poem, which is doubtless a contemporary work, was composed in the generation immediately after thenbsp;battle.

Somewhat similar poetry is preserved in the Rgveda. As a rule it consists of a few stanzas�usually from three to five�appended tonbsp;hymns to Indra or other deities. These stanzas most commonly containnbsp;prayers or thanksgivings for victory on behalf of a prince, and alsonbsp;celebrate his generosity to the poet, who is evidently a priest. Occasionally, however, a whole poem is occupied with matter of this kind.

� Cf. Rapson, Cambridge History of India, i. 301 f., 306. Other scholars (cf. Zimmer, Altind. Leben, p. 131, Keith, Cambridge History of India, I. 120, 122) havenbsp;identified the subject of the panegyric with a much earlier Parikshit, who appearsnbsp;in the genealogies (in Mah�bh. i. 94 f. and the Pur�nas), sometimes in connectionnbsp;with a Janamejaya. We are inclined to attach little value to these genealogies, whichnbsp;seem largely to be made up from doublets of heroic names.

HEROIC POETRY nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;483

We may note especially two poems, iv. 15 and V. 27, each of which, like the piece referred to above, consists of two separate and apparently unconnected invocations. The former consists of invocations for Srnjaya,nbsp;son of Devav�ta, and for Somaka, son of Sahadeva, who was apparentlynbsp;a descendant of Srnjaya.^ These princes must have been regarded asnbsp;ancestors of the royal family of the Panc�la, to whom the namesnbsp;Srnjaya and Somaka are sometimes applied in the Mahabharata.nbsp;Drupada himself also is sometimes called Saumaka.� In v. 27 the firstnbsp;invocation is for a certain Tryaruna, the second for a certain A�va-medha. We do not know of any relationship between these two princes;nbsp;Tryaruna seems to belong to a later period than A�vamedha. The twonbsp;parts of the poem are in different metres.

There is an obvious resemblance between some of these Vedic poems, especially perhaps Ath. xx. 127, and the Welsh heroic panegyricsnbsp;upon Urien and other British princes, noticed in Vol. i, p. 38 f., whichnbsp;likewise are largely concerned with the heroes� generosity.3 But it isnbsp;doubtful whether the Vedic poems can properly be regarded as heroic.nbsp;The Rgveda examples come from collections of poetry belonging tonbsp;priestly families; and the generosity for which the princes are celebratednbsp;lies in the reward or fee �daksina) paid to the priestly poet for his servicesnbsp;in interceding with the deities. Their successes are due to the deities�snbsp;favour, which is secured thereby. Hence the great value of the rewards�nbsp;which consist of horses, chariots, female slaves, cattle and treasure ofnbsp;various kinds.

Account must also be taken of a passage in the �atapatha Br�hmana, XIII. i. 5, where the horse-sacrifice is described. It is here stated that thenbsp;praises of the prince, for whom the sacrifice is offered, are sung bynbsp;ecclesiastical singers during the sacrifice itself, and by a royal minstrelnbsp;{r�janya) afterwards, in the course of the evening. The former celebratenbsp;the prince�s sacrifices and generosity (to priests), the latter his battles andnbsp;victories. The panegyrics of the Rgveda clearly belong not to the latter

� Cf. Ait. Br. VII. 34, where Sahadeva is called S�rnjaya. Some scholars (cf. Keith, op. cit. I. 83 f.) take Srnjaya here as a national or dynastic name, the individual beingnbsp;�aivav�ta. It is most difficult to distinguish between family and personal names innbsp;the Rgveda; but the Ait. Br�hm. passage seems to us to favour the latter here,nbsp;especially in view of the association of Srnjaya with N�rada and Parvata in Mah�bh.nbsp;VII. 5 5 ff., XII. 29 ff. Another difficulty is caused by the fact that patronymics maynbsp;mean either �son of� or �descendant of�.

� In the genealogies of the Pur�nas, whatever they may be worth, he is great-grandson of Somaka; but the latter�s father Sahadeva is son of Sudas.

3 For other early references to poetry of this kind see Vol. i, pp. 574 f., 582.

type, which is unquestionably heroic, but to the former. Poems such as IV. 15, or rather its constituent parts, may have been composed asnbsp;�appendices� to previously existing hymns, in order to adapt them to thenbsp;occasion. In the case of the Atharva poem referred to above this is notnbsp;quite so clear. The series of poems (xx. 127-136) to which it belongsnbsp;seems to be of unknown derivation; and the panegyric on Parikshit atnbsp;least is hardly incompatible with a secular origin. In any case the passagenbsp;in the �atapatha shows that the cultivation of heroic poetry of Type Dnbsp;goes back at least to the Br�hmana period.

There may of course have been a time�before the caste system began to develop�when heroic and non-heroic poetry of this type were lessnbsp;clearly differentiated; but into this question we need not enter here. Itnbsp;may be observed, however, that in the Rgveda, though the poemsnbsp;themselves are not heroic, the prominence assigned to princes, and muchnbsp;of what is said of them, seems to indicate a strong and probably dominant heroic element in society. We may therefore take the opportunitynbsp;here of adding a few remarks on the passages relating to princes contained in this collection.

First, in regard to chronology, it is possible to distinguish several different phases in the period. In one family at least five generationsnbsp;seem to be represented. In the earliest phase the most prominent personnbsp;is Divod�sa. Contemporary with him are a number of other princes,nbsp;among whom we may mention Srnjaya and �rutarvan. In the nextnbsp;phase the chief figures are Sud�s and Trasadasyu. The former was anbsp;grandson, or possibly son, of Divod�sa and a contemporary of thenbsp;famous seers Vasishtha and Vi�v�mitra. Later phases are less easy tonbsp;distinguish; for references to princes seem to be much less frequent.nbsp;But in X. 32 f. we hear of three princes who appear to be son, grandsonnbsp;and great-grandson of Trasadasyu. If these hymns are among the latestnbsp;in the collection, as seems quite likely, the whole time covered by thenbsp;Rgveda need not extend over more than about half a dozen generations.nbsp;The only ancestor of the Kuru mentioned in the Rgveda is �amtanu,nbsp;who is clearly to be identified with the ��ntanu of the Mahabharata (cf.nbsp;p. 475), the father of the old hero Bhishma. The poem in which henbsp;figures (x. 98) is an invocation for rain by his priest Dev�pi, and isnbsp;likewise generally believed to be among the latest in the collection; butnbsp;it shows that the Rgveda reaches nearly to the times treated in thenbsp;Mahabharata. On the other hand there are a number of references tonbsp;ancestors of the Panc�la, as we have seen. But neither the Panc�la nornbsp;the Kuru are mentioned by name.

The earlier phases of the period have distinctive features of their own. The first phase is evidently a time of warfare�barbaric and apparentlynbsp;heroic warfare, carried on largely for the sake of plunder.�^ The enemiesnbsp;are chiefly people of a different race, known as D�sa or Dasyu; they arenbsp;frequently described as black, and once (v. 29. 10) as �noseless�. Thenbsp;names of many of their chiefs��ambara, Varcin, Pipru, etc.�arenbsp;preserved in association with those of their conquerors, sometimes innbsp;the panegyric stanzas themselves, sometimes in later poems, whichnbsp;celebrate in catalogue form the great deeds performed by Indra or thenbsp;A�vins in helping famous princes and seers of the past. The scholasticnbsp;tradition of later times frequently regards them as demons�which isnbsp;doubtless due largely to the highly figurative diction employed in thenbsp;poems. It is often difficult to determine whether a poet really meansnbsp;actual human warfare or mythical incidents, such as the slaying ofnbsp;Vrtra, or elemental phenomena. The D�sa are, however, now generallynbsp;recognised to be the native (pre-Aryan) inhabitants of the land. It isnbsp;not at all clear that they were a primitive people. In addition to cattlenbsp;they have castles and abundance of treasure; indeed they may well havenbsp;been more civilised than their conquerors. The prehistoric civilisation ofnbsp;north-west India seems to have belonged to much earlier times; butnbsp;traces of it were perhaps still preserved.

After the first phase the D�sa seem to be less prominent. Sud�s� most famous battle is fought against a combination of other Aryan princes innbsp;the Punjab. He also fights (vii. 18, etc.) against a number of peoplesnbsp;who are seldom or never mentioned elsewhere, and who are commonlynbsp;believed to have been non-Aryan; but this battle takes place on thenbsp;Jumna. For the later periods there appears to be comparatively littlenbsp;evidence.

The geography of the Rgveda is quite different from that of the epics. Most of the princes, at least in the earlier phases, clearly belong tonbsp;tbe Punjab. The rivers of that region are familiar; references to the Indusnbsp;and the Sarasvati are very numerous. But the Ganges and the Jumna arenbsp;very rarely mentioned ; and we hear nothing of the kingdoms in theirnbsp;basins, which form the scene of the Mah�bh�rata. �amtanu may wellnbsp;have reigned on the Ganges ; but he belongs to the end of the period. Innbsp;Sud�s� time this region seems to be occupied by unknown and probablynbsp;non-Aryan peoples. In a poem of the earliest phase (iii. 23) the an-

' We may note the curious and apparently suggestive name Dasyave Vrka borne by a prince who figures much in the supplementary hymns (V�lakhilya) attached tonbsp;Book VIII. This name can hardly mean anything else than �Wolf to the Dasyu�.

cestors of the Panc�la are settled in the Punjab. And it would seem that the Kuru, as well as the Panc�la, claimed descent from the Bharata of thenbsp;Punjab. The evidence is of course mainly negative, but so far as it goesnbsp;it suggests that the Aryan conquest or Aryanisation of the Ganges-Jumna region took place during the later phases of the Rgveda period,nbsp;i.e. not so very long before the time of the heroes of the Mahabharata.

IN Vol. I, Ch. IV, we discussed the characteristics of the life portrayed in heroic stories under the following headings: (i) the social standing of the personnel; (2) the scenes of the stories; (3) thenbsp;accessories of heroic life; (4) the social standards and conventionsnbsp;observed in heroic poetry and saga. It will be convenient to adopt thenbsp;same classification here.

(i) As in the West the interest of the stories is centred in the doings of princes and princesses. Apart from them practically the only personsnbsp;mentioned are their servants, who are not very prominent, and thenbsp;Brahmans, who may be compared with the priests and seers of the West.nbsp;Brahmans are far more important than the priests and seers of thenbsp;Homeric poems, and more even than the Druids and filid of heroicnbsp;Ireland. But their importance is in general limited to what seem to benbsp;accretions to the stories. In the main action they figure chiefly asnbsp;agents of princes.

References to persons of other ranks, e.g. artisans and merchants, are rare and slight. When the heroes come to Draupadi�s svayamvara,nbsp;they are disguised as Brahmans and lodge at a potter�s house; butnbsp;nothing is said of this man, and his name is not mentioned. Again,nbsp;when Damayanti is deserted in the forest, she joins a caravan of merchants. Several speeches by the leader and other members of thenbsp;caravan are given (Nala, xii, 118 flquot;.), but their names are not mentioned ;nbsp;and the description of their behaviour after the disaster is hardlynbsp;sympathetic.

There are certain exceptional characters who require notice here. Drona is a Brahman, but also a warrior. In particular he is an expertnbsp;in archery, in which he instructs the young princes of the Kuru, including the sons of P�ndu. When the time comes for him to claim hisnbsp;fee, he demands the capture of King Drupada, against whom henbsp;harbours a special grudge. Arjuna accomplishes this task for him; andnbsp;Drona now becomes king of part of the Panc�la kingdom. The storynbsp;here seems hardly to be consistent; for apparently he remains at the

Kuru court. In the final battle, after the fall of Bh�shma, he commands the army of the Kuru.

Vidura, the judge of the Kuru, is a half-brother of the kings, Dhrtar�shtra and P�ndu; but his mother is a serving woman of lownbsp;caste. He is said to be an incarnation of the god of justice. He is annbsp;honoured and influential member of the court, but seems not to be anbsp;warrior.

But the most interesting of these exceptional cases is Karna. He is a son of Prth� (Kunti), and therefore half-brother to the sons of Pandu;nbsp;but his father is the sun-god (S�rya). His origin, however, is unknownnbsp;to himself, or to anyone except his mother, who does not divulge thenbsp;fact that he is her son until shortly before his death (vi. clxv). Throughout his life he passes as the son of a certain Adhiratha, a charioteer.nbsp;Owing to his prowess he is welcomed by Duryodhana, who is jealous ofnbsp;Arjuna, and made king of Anga by him. At the svayamvara of Draupadinbsp;he appears with the other princes as a competitor, but is disqualified bynbsp;the princess, who declares that she will not consent to marry a charioteer�snbsp;son. He seems to remain at the Kuru court, and commands the army innbsp;the last battle, after Drona�s fall.

THE HEROIC MILIEU nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;489

fighting of any kind, though there is some independent evidence, as we shall see later, that Nala was a warlike prince.

Feasting and drinking are not made so much of as in the West, though we hear of magnificent banquets in honour of distinguishednbsp;guests. Religious festivals are sometimes (e.g. Mah�bh. i. ccxxi) scenesnbsp;of drunken revelry, in which even the king and queen participate. Richnbsp;presents are sent by one prince to another, and among these we findnbsp;chariots, horses and elephants, as well as jewels and precious stuffs. Anbsp;good idea as to the things most valued in heroic society may be gatherednbsp;from Mah�bh. i. cxciv. ii. When Draupadi accompanies the heroes tonbsp;their lodging after her svayamvara, her brother Dhrshtadyumna followsnbsp;at a distance, anxious to know who they are. They are disguised asnbsp;Brahmans; but he contrives to overhear their conversations, and findsnbsp;that it is all concerned with weapons, chariots, and elephants�fromnbsp;which he concludes that they belong to the princely (Kshatriya) caste.

It may be observed that, in spite of the frequent references to elephants, they do not seem to be used much by the greater heroes ofnbsp;the stories.^ In actual practice the use of the chariot and horses is farnbsp;more frequent, both in battle and on peaceful journeys. But the methodnbsp;of fighting is not that of the Iliad. The chief weapon is the bow, as withnbsp;the Egyptians of the nineteenth dynasty and the Hittites, though thenbsp;sword, battle-axe and other weapons are also often referred to. Princesnbsp;are expected to be skilled in the management of horses; and sometimes,nbsp;as in the Iliad, they act as drivers for other princes. Nala, when he isnbsp;disguised and in exile, obtains a position as groom to Rtuparna. He isnbsp;said to be unrivalled in swift driving. Arjuna offers to act as charioteernbsp;to Uttara, son of the king of the Matsya. Further examples will benbsp;noticed later.

Devotion to horses is perhaps the heroic feature most prominent in the Rgveda. References to horses occur everywhere; and whole hymnsnbsp;are occupied with the subject. This feature goes back to the earliestnbsp;times. In viii. 57, which dates from the time of Divod�sa, one stanza (18)nbsp;is devoted to the praise of a mare called Vrshanvati.

Among indoor amusements we hear chiefly of music and dice. The former will require notice in a later chapter. The latter is the besetting sinnbsp;of princes, and brings both Nala and Yudhishthira to ruin. We knownbsp;nothing of this from the heroic stories of the West, though gnomicnbsp;poetry and other authorities testify to its existence. Tacitus (Germ. 24),nbsp;however, describes the gaming proclivities of the Teutonic nobility ofnbsp;* Cf. Sidhanta, op. cit. p. 139 f.

his day in a form which is practically identical with what is found in the Mah�bh�rata.

(4) Statements of social standards are expressed in the Mah�bh�rata far more frequently than in Western heroic poetry. But this is due innbsp;the main to the very large didactic accretions which the poem hasnbsp;received. Indeed the extent to which the work has been subjected tonbsp;Brahmanic influence renders it difficult at times to determine what thenbsp;heroic standards were, except by what may be regarded as somewhatnbsp;arbitrary judgment. Thus no virtues are more frequently commendednbsp;than those of reverence and generosity to Brahmans. This may to somenbsp;extent faithfully represent the feeling of heroic society. But there can benbsp;no doubt that Brahmanic influence is in the main responsible for suchnbsp;passages.

In general the qualities for which heroes are praised belong to the usual aristocratic type. The chief perhaps, as in the West, is prowess innbsp;arms, usually, if not always, combined with physical strength. Againstnbsp;this, however, stands another, essentially non-heroic, type of character,nbsp;represented above all by Yudhishthira, which is distinguished by pietynbsp;and reverence towards Brahmans. Common to both of these is a strictnbsp;sense of honour, exemplified in adherence to a spoken word interpretednbsp;in the most narrowly literal sense. A hero may be involved in the mostnbsp;serious difficulties by promising, out of politeness, to accede to a requestnbsp;before he knows what it is. Through a remark of this kind Nala has tonbsp;act as agent for the gods, when they are suitors for his intended. Thenbsp;situation is not unlike that of Pwyll at his wedding-feast. An absurdnbsp;instance of this devotion to truth occurs in Mah�bh. i. cxciii, where thenbsp;marriage of Draupadi to the five brothers is attributed to a casual remarknbsp;made by their mother, when they return from the svayamvara: thinkingnbsp;that they have been begging alms, she says that they must enjoy innbsp;common what they have acquired. There can be little doubt that thisnbsp;story is due to an attempt to explain the strange marriage. But innbsp;VII. cxci. 43 ff. there is an ugly story which is not so easy to account for.nbsp;Drona appeals to Yudhishthira as a man of exceptionally high honour,nbsp;to tell him whether his son has been killed. Yudhishthira, by mutteringnbsp;one word inaudibly, gives an answer which entirely misleads Drona,nbsp;and brings about his death.

Unsympathetic characters are on the whole portrayed in a more unfavourable light than in Teutonic and Greek heroic poetry. Duryo-dhana�s conduct to his cousins is malignant and treacherous throughout, while his brother Duhshasana treats Draupadi shamefully. On the

491 Other hand the best men sometimes behave badly�as in the Iliad, butnbsp;even worse. Thus in Mah�bh. i. cxxxiv, when Ekalavya, prince of thenbsp;Nish�da, recognises Drona as his preceptor, because he has beennbsp;practising archery before his image, Drona demands and takes Ekalavya�snbsp;thumb as his fee, and renders him unable to shoot. We are reminded ofnbsp;the story of the fill Athirne, noticed in Vol. i, p. 98. It may be that thenbsp;standard here, as in the Irish case, is not heroic; for Drona, though anbsp;warrior, is a Brahman. And, apart from this consideration, it is ofnbsp;course possible that both this case and that of Yudhishthira�s equivocation may have originated in the Brahmanic strata of the poem. Innbsp;contrast to these cases the conduct of Rama�s brothers conveys a verynbsp;favourable impression of Indian heroic society. But here again Brahmanic influence is possible.

Etiquette and courtesy are observed much as in Western heroic poetry, if we except the excessive reverence paid to Brahmans. Angrynbsp;scenes occur from time to time, even at festivities. We may instance thenbsp;fight which takes place at Draupadi�s svayamvara, and more especiallynbsp;the scene at Yudhishthira�s sacrifice, described in Mah�bh. 11. xxxvii ff.,nbsp;where �i�up�la insults Krshna and Bhishma, with its tragic ending.nbsp;In general, however, such scenes are not very different from what wenbsp;find in the Iliad.

The standard of decorum observed in the telling of a story is sometimes, e.g. in the story of Nala, quite on a level with that of Teutonic and Greek heroic poetry; sometimes it is on a lower plane, comparablenbsp;with that of Irish sagas. Not unfrequently we meet with descriptions ofnbsp;disgusting incidents. It would seem, however, that these are usually, ifnbsp;not always, of non-heroic origin. They certainly occur much more oftennbsp;in stories relating to Brahmans than elsewhere.

In its attitude towards individualism and nationality Indian heroic poetry differs little, if at all, from that of the West. The heroes arenbsp;drawn from various kingdoms throughout the northern half of India;nbsp;and there can be little doubt that within this area the stories had annbsp;international circulation. In the main theme of the Mah�bh�rata interestnbsp;is centred in the kingdom of the Kuru, and it is to a later king of thenbsp;Kuru, a descendant of Arjuna, that the story is first related. But princesnbsp;of the Panc�la, the Matsya and the Vrshni are also prominent, whilenbsp;other heores come from as far west as the Indus and as far east asnbsp;Magadha. In the story of R�ma the hero belongs to Ayodhya (Oude),nbsp;while his adventures take place in the south of India. In the story of

Nala the scene is laid chiefly among the Nishadha and the Vidarbha, on the southern fringe of Aryan territory.

In every story of course there are certain leading characters who are specially �sympathetic�. But the interest lies in them as individuals, notnbsp;in their nationality; and the nationality of their opponents is seldomnbsp;disparaged. Indeed the feeling for nationality is hardly more pronouncednbsp;than in Teutonic and Greek heroic poetry. Krshna acts as charioteer tonbsp;Arjuna in the great battle; but his relatives and the forces of his kingdomnbsp;are ranged on the opposite side. It may be observed that, as in thenbsp;West, the wives of kings and princes usually come from other kingdoms ;nbsp;and the part which they play in Indian heroic poetry is certainly notnbsp;less important than elsewhere.

Even the opponents of the chief heroes are commonly treated with respect and even sympathy. The treatment of Bhishma and Drona, thenbsp;commanders of the enemy army, is entirely sympathetic; and evennbsp;Karna, in spite of his bitter hostility to Arjuna, is always regarded atnbsp;least with respect; indeed he is constantly represented as a much-wrongednbsp;man. Among the leading characters of the story it is only the sons ofnbsp;Dhrtar�shtra who are portrayed in a wholly unsympathetic light; andnbsp;even they bear honorific epithets and distinguish themselves by couragenbsp;in battle. The blind king himself is a pathetic and kindly character,nbsp;though too easily influenced by his sons.

In the story of Rama the hero is banished in the interest of his brother Bharata. But Bharata himself is wholly guiltless, and does everythingnbsp;possible to preserve Rama�s rights. His mother Kaikeyi behaves verynbsp;badly, but only after being instigated by a minor character. The onlynbsp;real hostility is with R�vana and his R�kshasa or �demons�. But evennbsp;R�vana has two brothers who try to dissuade him from his unjust conduct towards R�ma. One of them eventually fights on Rama�s side.nbsp;The �apes�, with one or two exceptions, are wholly sympathetic. If thenbsp;�apes� and �demons� really denote two peoples of southern India, onenbsp;may infer some disparagement from the names, which may of coursenbsp;date from times anterior to the story; but otherwise there is no sign ofnbsp;any general feeling of hostility.

The story of Nala is concerned only with individuals; and there is no unsympathetic human character except Pushkara, who is not verynbsp;prominent.

Heroic warfare, as in the West, consists mainly of single combats. Even in pitched battles the issue is decided by the prowess of individualnbsp;heroes, though vast numbers of their followers are said to be slain. In

493 combats warriors are expected to behave in a chivalrous manner;^ andnbsp;sometimes distinguished men refuse to fight weaker opponents. But innbsp;point of fact it happens not unfrequently that, just as in the West, evennbsp;the greatest heroes act unfairly. Arjuna kills the aged Bhishma by anbsp;contemptible ruse. And in the decisive combat between this hero andnbsp;Karna neither heeds the appeals of the other for fair play; Arjuna�snbsp;victory is due to an accident to Kama�s chariot. The means by whichnbsp;Yudhishthira and Bhima bring about the death of Drona are despicablenbsp;to the last degree.

It has been mentioned above that the heroes regularly use chariots in warfare, as in the Greek and Irish heroic stories, though in India the chiefnbsp;weapon is the bow. Sometimes, as in the Iliad, the charioteer is himselfnbsp;a very distinguished man. Arjuna�s charioteer in the great battle isnbsp;Krshna, and to him he very largely owes his success. Karna, when henbsp;goes to encounter Arjuna, asks for and obtains as his charioteer �alya,nbsp;king of the Madra, who afterwards succeeds him as commander-in-chief. It is individual achievement as a warrior, rather than skill innbsp;generalship, which is looked for even in a leader; and consequently thenbsp;charioteer is of prime importance.

Recklessness, boasting and self-glorification are as much in evidence in Indian heroic poetry as in that of the West. For an example we maynbsp;refer to Kama�s boasting before his encounter with Arjuna, who, henbsp;alleges, is hiding from him. For this he is derided by his charioteer. Butnbsp;�alya himself later indulges in more extravagant boasts, saying thatnbsp;when he is angered he can fight with the whole world, deities, Asurasnbsp;and men�and much more in the same strain.�

Thirst for glory seems to be as prominent a motive as in Teutonic and Greek heroic poetry. As an example we may cite Mah�bh. iii.nbsp;ccxcix. 31, where Kama says that he longs for renown in this world evennbsp;at the sacrifice of his life. But this sentiment is usually, as here, combined with the Kshatriya belief that by death in battle the hero willnbsp;obtain eternal bliss in the next life.3

The causes of strife are always of a personal character. The great battle is due to the jealousy of the sons of Dhrtar�shtra, who are determined to exclude their cousins from a share in the kingship, and take

� Cf. Mah�bh. viu. xl. 3 ff.; ix. vii. 2 ff. For further examples cf. Sidhanta, The Heroic Age of India, p. 85 f.

3 Cf. Sidhanta, op. cit. p. 82 f. Close analogies are to be found in Norse records; cf. Chadwick, Cult of Othin, p. 9 ff.

advantage of Yudhishthira�s misfortunes with the dice to drive them into exile. The sons of P�ndu on their side are incited to vengeance bynbsp;the insults oifered to Draupadi. Kama�s enmity against Arjuna is duenbsp;largely to the slight put upon him by Draupadi at the svayamvara, whennbsp;she accepted Arjuna as her husband. Even in the battle itself the desirenbsp;for personal vengeance is often the guiding motive. Such is the case, e.g.,nbsp;in Arjuna�s fight with Jayadratha and in the fighting between Dronanbsp;and his son and the kings of Panc�la. Rama�s war against R�vana isnbsp;caused by the abduction by the latter of Sit�, Rama�s wife.

Other causes of strife are very similar to what we find in Western heroic stories. Among the chief of them is cattle-raiding. An examplenbsp;on a huge scale is described in Mah�bh. iv. xxxv, where the princes ofnbsp;the Kuru take advantage of the absence of Virata, king of the Matsya,nbsp;to drive off his cattle to the number of sixty thousand. The same practicenbsp;is frequently implied in the Rgveda.

Ambition and love of adventure likewise often lead to war. In connection with certain sacrifices we meet with what we may call regularised forms of provocation. Before the horse-sacrifice �A�vamedha) it wasnbsp;customary to let the victim roam at will, attended by armed guards; andnbsp;not seldom we hear of strife arising through its seizure by ambitiousnbsp;neighbouring princes. Again, in Mah�bh. ii. xxv ff., when Yudhishthiranbsp;is preparing to celebrate the R�jas�ya sacrifice�the ceremony of hisnbsp;consecration as king�he sends his brothers out in all directions tonbsp;demand submission and tribute. At the conclusion of the sacrifice (J.b.nbsp;xxxvi ff.) a gift of honour (arghya) is to be presented to the most distinguished of the guests�a custom which may be compared with thenbsp;Irish �champion�s portion� (cf. Vol. i, p. 49 f.). Bhishma decides innbsp;favour of Krshna; but his decision is disputed by �i�up�la, and a quarrelnbsp;arises, which ends in tragedy.

Again, we hear from time to time of marriage by capture�when a suitor, or someone acting on his behalf, carries off a princess, or morenbsp;than one, perhaps from a svayamvara. We have already (p. 475) hadnbsp;occasion to mention Bhishma�s exploit, when he carried off the princessesnbsp;of K��, and the fight between him and the suitors which followed. Innbsp;Mah�bh. i. ccxxi ff. Krshna advises Arjuna to carry off his sister Subhadr�,nbsp;and argues that this is recognised as an honourable act for a Kshatriya.nbsp;Arjuna follows his advice and carries her off (ib. ccxxii). Her relativesnbsp;are deeply angered, and prepare to pursue him; but Krshna pacifiesnbsp;them, and the matter is settled amicably.

495 that of a princely class as self-willed and irresponsible as any of those wenbsp;have met with in Europe. Perhaps the most striking case of all is thenbsp;behaviour of �alya. On the eve of the great battle he sets out with hisnbsp;troops to join Yudhishthira. But he is waylaid by Duryodhana, whonbsp;persuades him to come over to his side. Then he meets Yudhishthiranbsp;and tells him that he has joined the enemy; but promises that he willnbsp;nullify the prowess of Karna. In the end he becomes commander-in-chief of the Kuru army, and is killed by Yudhishthira.

It is hardly necessary to summarise the evidence discussed in this chapter. Analogies with the heroic poetry and saga treated in Vol. i willnbsp;be found at every turn. Indian heroic story is concerned, like that ofnbsp;Europe, with the doings of a princely class; and in both cases the salientnbsp;feature is an unrestrained individualism. It is true that these characteristics are often obscured by Brahmanic influence, and also that thenbsp;prestige enjoyed by the Brahmans dates from early times. But we see nonbsp;reason for doubting what seems to be the generally accepted view, thatnbsp;the Brahmanic elements in the stories are secondary and due to constantnbsp;encroachment upon the heroic.

We have conflned our attention almost entirely to the Mahabharata. The Rgveda frequently shows a very decided feeling for nationality,nbsp;as between Aryan and D�sa (cf. p. 485). The latter are usually regarded with deep aversion. But the Rgveda is non-heroic literature,nbsp;and dates from a much earlier period.

This class of literature is very widely represented in ancient India and is found in nearly all Types of poetry and saga. Most of thenbsp;references to (human) individuals which occur in the Vedas andnbsp;Br�hmanas are of non-heroic character; indeed, in the Br�hmananbsp;literature, including the Upanishads, we do not know of any exceptions.nbsp;The Mahabharata had its origin doubtless in heroic poetry; but this hasnbsp;been largely transformed, and a vast amount of non-heroic matter addednbsp;to it. Non-heroic, together with antiquarian, elements are predominantnbsp;in the Pur�nas.

In Vol. I (p. 96) we classified the non-heroic material as follows: (i) Stories relating to Christian saints. (2) Stories relating to prophets,nbsp;wizards, and persons, other than ecclesiastics, who are credited withnbsp;abnormal or supernatural powers and knowledge. (3) Stories relatingnbsp;to persons not included in either of these categories. These persons arenbsp;usually kings or princes. In ancient India the first of these classes is ofnbsp;course wanting; the same person is both seer and saint. Moreover bothnbsp;seers and kings figure in the great majority of the stories. We shallnbsp;therefore take these classes together. First we will take examples fromnbsp;non-heroic stories and scenes in the Br�hmanas, the Upanishads and thenbsp;Mahabharata, where the circumstances are made more or less clear. Afternbsp;that we will notice references to seers in the Rgveda, where many of themnbsp;speak as authors.

First we may take the story of �unah�epa, which is told briefly, in the form of saga, in the Aitareya Br�hmana, vii. 13 ff. There was a kingnbsp;named Hari�candra, who was childless. He consulted the seer (m)nbsp;N�rada, and by his advice prayed to the god Varuna to give him a son,nbsp;whom he promised to sacrifice to him. The son is born and namednbsp;Rohita; but the father keeps putting off the fulfilment of his vow until henbsp;is grown up. Then Rohita makes off to the forest, and his father, nownbsp;unable to carry out the vow, is attacked with dropsy. Rohita is smittennbsp;with remorse; but Indra dissuades him from returning home. After fivenbsp;years he meets with a destitute seer named Ajigarta, who has three sonsnbsp;and is willing to sell one of them for a hundred cattle. Rohita takes thisnbsp;son, �unah�epa, home with him; and it is agreed by all, including

497 Varuna, that he shall be sacrificed in Rohita�s place. But no one is willingnbsp;to bind or slay him, until his father, Ajigarta, offers to do so for twonbsp;hundred more cows. Then �unah�epa sings to the gods a number ofnbsp;hymns, by which his bonds are loosed and the king healed. This story,nbsp;it is stated, is to be recited to a king on certain solemn occasions. Thenbsp;remunerations to be paid to the priests are very high. It may be observed that, in addition to a number of hymn stanzas quoted from thenbsp;Rgveda, the story contains several speech poems (Type B). It mustnbsp;have had a long history, for references to it occur frequently in thenbsp;Rgveda�'.

The story of Cyavana is told first in the �atapatha Br�hmana, iv. i. 5. Cyavana, who was a decrepit and ghostlike seer, was pelted with clodsnbsp;by boys in the service of a king named �ary�ta. In wrath he causes discord in the king�s following; and the king, to appease him, brings himnbsp;his daughter in marriage. The A�vins try to persuade her to leave him;nbsp;but she remains faithful, and induces them to restore him to youth. Innbsp;return he instructs them how to obtain a portion in the sacrifices of thenbsp;gods. The story is introduced in explanation of the origin of a certainnbsp;sacrificial ceremony and, like the previous story, may be regarded as annbsp;example of saga of Type C. Its antiquity, as in the last case, is shown bynbsp;references to it in the Rgveda.

The same story is told again (in verse) in the Mahabharata, iii. cxxiiff., in a highly embellished form. Cyavana here is an ascetic of the mostnbsp;extreme kind, and remains motionless so long that an ant-hill grows upnbsp;round him, and only his eyes are visible. The king�s daughter comes tonbsp;play at the ant-hill, and pokes out his eyes with a thorn. He refuses to benbsp;appeased until she is given to him in marriage. Later, when the A�vinsnbsp;have restored his youth, he offers soma to them on behalf of the king.nbsp;Then Indra in wrath threatens him with the thunderbolt. But he disables the god�s arm, and produces a monster, which makes ready tonbsp;devour him, so that he cries for mercy.

Stories of this kind are very numerous in the Mahabharata. The nonheroic element in this work has indeed developed to such an extent that even in the main theme the centre of interest has largely been diverted.nbsp;It is generally agreed that the central figure in the story originally wasnbsp;the heroic Arjuna. But as we have it, this hero is on the whole subordinated to his elder brother Yudhishthira, who is not distinguished

� It can hardly have been known in its present form in Rgveda times; cf. Keith, Rigveda Brahmanas, p. 63 f. But there seems to be no reason for doubting that itnbsp;was non-heroic from the beginning.

for heroic qualities, apart from his addiction to gambling; to the modern reader he seems a somewhat contemptible character. He is, however,nbsp;extremely pious, and given to asceticism; and on this account he isnbsp;much revered, and is sometimes able to effect what others cannot do.nbsp;An example may be taken from an incident related in iii. clxxviii ff.nbsp;Bhima, the second brother, is attacked in the forest by a monstrous snake,nbsp;which turns out to be the ancient legendary king Nahusha, a great-grandson of the primeval Manu. According to other passages in thenbsp;Mahabharata (v. xi ff., etc.) Nahusha had once attained to such powernbsp;that he even overcame the gods and usurped the place of Indra. He behaved with great insolence towards the (heavenly) seers, especially thenbsp;great seer Agastya, who eventually cursed him. This brought about hisnbsp;fall, and he had to spend ten thousand years upon the earth as a snake.nbsp;His only hope of release was to find someone who could answer all hisnbsp;(philosophical) questions. Yudhishthira succeeds in this task, and thereby not only releases Nahusha from the curse, but also saves his brother�snbsp;life.

Among the non-heroic stories which are introduced as episodes we will next take an example relating to the remote past�the story ofnbsp;Yay�ti (i. Ixxv ff., etc.), which has special features of its own. �ukra,nbsp;the priest of the king of the Asuras, has a daughter called Devay�n�, whonbsp;goes to bathe with �armishth�, the king�s daughter. The two girls beginnbsp;to quarrel. Devay�n� claims precedence, as being the daughter of anbsp;Brahman; but �armishth� rejoins that her (Devay�ni�s) father�s function is merely to sing the praises of her own father, the king. In the endnbsp;she throws Devay�n� into a well�from which she is rescued by Kingnbsp;Yay�ti, son of the Nahusha mentioned above. �ukra, enraged at thenbsp;outrage done to his daughter, threatens to leave the king, to whom hisnbsp;services are indispensable. He therefore has to promise whatever �ukranbsp;demands; and the latter claims �armishth� as a handmaid for hisnbsp;daughter.

Devay�n� again meets with Yay�ti, who marries her. She takes �armishth� with her; and Yay�ti promises to have no relations with her.nbsp;Devay�n� bears to Yay�ti two sons, named Yadu and Turvasu; butnbsp;after some years she discovers that he has also, in spite of his promise,nbsp;had three sons�named Druhyu, Anu and P�ru�by �armishth�. Shenbsp;then complains to her father, who curses Yay�ti, and brings decrepitudenbsp;upon him. He allows him, however, to find a substitute to bear thenbsp;curse for him. Yay�ti then appeals to his five sons; but only the youngest,nbsp;P�ru, is willing to undergo the punishment. After flourishing for a

thousand years, Yay�ti restores to P�ru his youth and gives him the throne, while he himself takes over his own decrepitude and retires tonbsp;the forest as a hermit.

This story, as we have it, is clearly non-heroic (Type C). It is designed to show the superiority of the power of the Brahman over thatnbsp;of the king. But, just as clearly, it contains elements which point to anbsp;different origin. Yay�ti�s five sons are eponymoi of five peoples ornbsp;kingdoms, which are mentioned not unfrequently in the Rgveda andnbsp;apparently form some kind of confederation. They are represented asnbsp;occupying the greater part of the Punjab. The Turva�a and the Yadu,nbsp;who bear the names of Devay�ni�s sons, seem to have been more closelynbsp;connected than the rest. The P�ru are apparently the dominant peoplenbsp;of the group in the Rgveda. In the heroic stories of the Mahabharata,nbsp;however, these peoples, except the Yadu, seem to be rarely or nevernbsp;mentioned, though some of the names, especially P�ru, reappear in thenbsp;Pur�nas. It may be inferred therefore that this part of the story isnbsp;derived from antiquarian tradition or speculation dating from Vedicnbsp;times. In its present form additions have been made, probably at anbsp;much later date, for the purpose of illustrating the superiority of thenbsp;Brahman over the Kshatriya. But the changes evidently had to be keptnbsp;within certain limits. The dominant position is still retained by a son ofnbsp;the Kshatriya queen, though he owes it not to prowess but to filial piety.

Next we will take a story of purely non-heroic interest, illustrating (as usual) the superiority of Brahmanic to princely power. In in. cxciinbsp;a king named �ala goes hunting, and his horses are unable to overtakenbsp;the stag. He hears that the seer V�madeva has horses of incomparablenbsp;speed, and proceeds to borrow them; but afterwards refuses to givenbsp;them back. The seer first sends a messenger, and then comes in person,nbsp;to reclaim his horses; but the king is obdurate and says that such finenbsp;horses should not belong to a seer. V�madeva, regarding himself as insulted, produces four fearful R�kshas�s, armed with spears; and as thenbsp;king still refuses to give way, these kill him on the spot. His brothernbsp;Dala, who succeeds him, likewise refuses to restore the horses; andnbsp;when the seer again comes to reclaim them, he tries to shoot him. Butnbsp;the arrow kills his own son; he is unable to shoot at the seer, and consequently has to give in. V�madeva is presumably the seer to whomnbsp;Book IV of the Rgveda is traditionally ascribed.

' Four of the sons have the same names as the peoples. In the remaining case the form Turvasu would seem to have been assimilated in its ending to the others. Thenbsp;variation between f and j is not unknown in other names, e.g. Kosala and Ko�ala.

One of the best known of these stories is that which describes the deadly quarrel of the two famous seers Vi�v�mitra and Vasishtha, tonbsp;whom tradition ascribes Book in, and Book vii of the Rgveda respectively. According to this story (i. clxxvii ; cf. ix. xl) Vi�v�mitra wasnbsp;a prince, and came first by chance, when he was hunting, to Vasishtha�snbsp;hermitage. The latter had a marvellous cow, which gave him whatevernbsp;he wished. Vi�v�mitra is eager to buy the cow, and offers up to tennbsp;thousand ordinary cows for it; but Vasishtha will not part with it. Thennbsp;Vi�v�mitra brings his followers to take the cow by force; but the cow�nbsp;at Vasishtha�s command, according to one version�produces a bodynbsp;of armed men, who drive the raiders off. Vi�v�mitra is so much impressed with the superiority of mantic to royal power that he renouncesnbsp;his rank and devotes himself to extreme asceticism, by means of whichnbsp;he eventually becomes a great seer. He does not, however, forget hisnbsp;grudge against Vasishtha; for he afterwards brings about the death ofnbsp;the latter�s sons.

A king named Kalm�shap�da, but more often described as Saud�sa,� i.e. son or descendant of Sud�s(a), is cursed by Vasishtha�s eldest son,nbsp;�aktri (�akti), whom he has struck with a whip. Vi�v�mitra causes anbsp;Rakshas or demon to enter the king; and this makes him kill and eatnbsp;first �aktri himself and then all his brothers. Vasishtha tries to commitnbsp;suicide from grief, but afterwards bears his sorrow with patience. Henbsp;finds the king roaming in the forest like a savage, and frees him from thenbsp;curse. The king submits to him and is forgiven.

Apparently no early authority mentions a quarrel between Vi�v�mitra and Vasishtha. In the Aitareya Br�hmana both of them are said to take part in the sacrifice of �unah�epa (cf. p. 496 f.) ; and there is nonbsp;doubt, as we shall see below, that they were contemporaries. The poetry,nbsp;however, quoted in this story seems to imply that Vi�v�mitra was anbsp;prince, as well as a seer. Again, the Kaushitaki Br�hmana, iv. 8, knowsnbsp;of a quarrel between Vasishtha and the sons (or descendants) of Sudas;nbsp;he is said to have overcome them after his own sons had been slain bynbsp;them. Some elements in the story given above are therefore fairly old.nbsp;The relations of Vasishtha and Vi�v�mitra with King Sud�s himself willnbsp;have to be noticed later.

�aktri has a posthumous son bom to him named Par��ara, who is brought up by his grandfather Vasishtha. When he learns the story of

� References to the cannibal king under this name are frequent. It is curious that XIV. Ivi if. is a variant of I. iii. 96 ff., where the king is called Paushya and is not anbsp;cannibal.

his father�s death he becomes inflamed with the desire of wreaking vengeance upon the world; but Vasishtha persuades him to content himself with a sacrifice of R�kshasa, whom he bums in a great fire (i. clxxx�iii).nbsp;In I. cv (and elsewhere) he is the father of Vy�sa by Satyavati, who laternbsp;became the wife of ��ntanu (cf. p. 475). It may be mentioned that thenbsp;Vishnu Purina claims to have been narrated by Par��ara, whom it placesnbsp;in the time of Parikshit. He can hardly be an invention of late times, asnbsp;his name occurs repeatedly in the White Yajurveda. On the other handnbsp;the name Par��ara occurs in the Rgveda, vii. xviii, beside Vasishtha.

The Mahabharata itself (i. i, and elsewhere) claims to have been composed by Vy�sa, also called Krshna Dvaip�yana, the son of Par��ara and Satyavati; he is also said (z^.) to have arranged the Vedas. He is frequently introduced in the poem, and represented as a very great seer andnbsp;ascetic. In i. cv he is called in by his mother to beget offspring for hernbsp;younger son Vicitravirya, who has died childless; and therefore Dhrta-r�shtra, P�ndu and Vidura are represented as his sons. He often visitsnbsp;his descendants, sometimes to console the sons of P�ndu during theirnbsp;exile, sometimes to dissuade Dhrtar�shtra from hostility towards them;nbsp;but he seems not to influence the course of the action. In the introductory part of Book i (be, and elsewhere) he also visits Janamejaya, thenbsp;great-great-grandson of P�ndu, when that king is celebrating thenbsp;sacrifice of snakes. At his command his disciple Vai�amp�yana recitesnbsp;the Mah�bh�rata to entertain the king. It is commonly held that Vy�sa isnbsp;a fictitious character, though both his name and that of Vai�amp�yananbsp;are recorded from early times. Clearly neither the chronology of hisnbsp;life nor his claims as an author will bear examination; but that is all thatnbsp;can be said with confidence. We see no reason for denying that a learnednbsp;ascetic of this name may have existed. But did he live in Janamejaya�snbsp;time or about five generations earlier.^

The story of the snake-sacrifice is one of the most curious incidents in the whole work. Parikshit had hung a dead snake round the neck of anbsp;seer who refused to speak to him (i. xlix, ad.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;to the king

he was observing a vow of silence. The seer�s son, infuriated at the insult, cursed Parikshit, declaring that Takshaka, the king of the snakes,nbsp;would kill him in a week. The king was warned by the seer and took allnbsp;precautions; but Takshaka contrived to evade them all, and the kingnbsp;perished. In course of time his son Janamejaya determines to takenbsp;vengeance; in i. iii {adfin^ he is incited thereto by the seer Uttanka,nbsp;who has a private grudge against Takshaka. Janamejaya now institutesnbsp;� In the Taittiriya Aranyaka, which has not been accessible to us.

a great sacrifice (i. li ff.), and the snakes in vast numbers fall into the fire. Takshaka is protected by Indra; but in the end he is brought to hovernbsp;unconscious over the fire. At the last moment he is saved by the seernbsp;Astika, who is partly of snake blood and who begs as a boon fromnbsp;Janamejaya that the sacrifice shall be stopped. In i. Iviii. Janamejaya invites Astika to the great horse sacrifice which he is intending to celebrate.nbsp;This horse sacrifice is frequently referred to in the Br�hmanas, and therenbsp;can be little doubt that it is a historical event. But no early authoritynbsp;mentions the snake sacrifice, so far as we know.

The Br�hmanas and Upanishads preserve the names of a considerable number of seers who lived after the time of Janamejaya. Many of themnbsp;take part in the debates with which the earlier Upanishads are largelynbsp;occupied. Stories can hardly be said to exist. The narrative element as anbsp;rule amounts to not more than two or three sentences, explaining thenbsp;circumstances under which the discussion arose. The debates themselvesnbsp;consist of speeches in character (Type B)�dialogues in which questionnbsp;and answer alternate. They are in prose, like most of the matter contained in the early Upanishads. The characters are Brahmans (seers) andnbsp;learned kings. The occasion is sometimes a great festival (sacrificial)nbsp;gathering, at which prizes are offered by the king for contests innbsp;learning; sometimes a private meeting between Brahmans or betweennbsp;a Brahman and a king.

The debates are often compared with Plato�s Dialogues ; but the resemblance is hardly more than superficial. The matter is clearly traditional. The same characters, and sometimes even the same debates, occur in more than one Upanishad ; and there is nothing to show thatnbsp;the authors of the Upanishads, as we have them, are recording personalnbsp;memories. Many of the characters are mentioned also in the Br�hmanas,nbsp;which are believed to be older than the Upanishads. Y�jnavalkya, thenbsp;chief character of the Brhad�ranyaka Upanishad, figures largely in thenbsp;�atapatha Br�hmana; and the preparation of the White Yajurveda,nbsp;which is thought to be still older, is also attributed to him. But no datesnbsp;can be given, owing to the absence of the feeling for chronology, whichnbsp;characterises all early Indian literature. All that can be said with confidence is (i) that most of the characters are represented as more or lessnbsp;contemporary with one another, and (ii) that they speak of Janamejayanbsp;and his family as belonging to the past. But Janamejaya may have lived

' In Brhad. in. 3 Y�jnavalkya is asked what has become of the Parikshitas, and replies that he supposes them to have gone (in the next life) to where those go whonbsp;have offered horse sacrifices. Unfortunately P�riksitas can mean either Jana-

503 two centuries, or even more, before the time when the Upanishads, asnbsp;we have them, were composed. Sometimes �genealogies� are introduced; but these are genealogies not of flesh and blood, but of teachers,nbsp;or rather doctrines. The chronological value of a �generation� is therefore quite uncertain; it may mean no more than a few years, perhapsnbsp;even less. In one short list found in Brhad. vi. 3. 7 ff. most of thenbsp;teachers seem to be more or less contemporary. But the fact that in thenbsp;longer genealogies Y�jnavalkya�s name usually appears far back in thenbsp;list may probably be taken to mean that he was recognised to have livednbsp;not very recently.

The true analogies of the debates in the Upanishads lie in our opinion not with Plato�s Dialogues, but with the contests between seers ornbsp;learned supernatural beings which are treated in the earliest records ofnbsp;Europe. This is a subject which will require notice in Ch. X. Here it maynbsp;be sufiicient to point out that, although the Upanishads are not stories ofnbsp;adventure, the debates which they describe are not devoid of a certainnbsp;element of danger. One speaker frequently warns another that, if henbsp;persists in a certain line of argument, he will lose his head; and on onenbsp;occasion (Brhad. in. 9. 26) this sad fate does actually befall a competitornbsp;who is unable to answer Y�jnavalkya. We are reminded of the fate ofnbsp;Calchas in the Melampodia and, still more, of the discussion in thenbsp;VafpruSnismal (cf. Vol. i, p. 321 f.), where the learned giant Vaf-pruSnir says to Othin (st. 19): �We have got to stake our heads in thenbsp;contest of learning.� At the end of the same poem VafpruSnir speaks ofnbsp;himself as doomed. Note may also be taken of the large rewards ornbsp;prizes offered for success in these contests.

Many of the characters of the Upanishads figure also in the Mahabharata; and here we hear something of the men themselves, as well as their doctrines. Of Y�jnavalkya indeed we hear little more than in thenbsp;Brhad�ranyaka Upanishad, although he is made to enunciate his doctrines at considerable length in xii. cccxi ff. In the Upanishad we findnbsp;him maintaining his claim to superiority over other sages in a contest fornbsp;a prize awarded by King Janaka, and again paying private visits to thenbsp;same king. We have also his farewell discourse to one of his wives whennbsp;he departs to the forest. In the Mahabharata we have only his discoursesnbsp;to Janaka; but in these, especially in xii. cccxix, he gives a little more in-mejaya and his brothers or the dynasty as a whole. The second interpretation is thenbsp;one commonly given; but in view of Y�jnavalkya�s reply this can only be correct ifnbsp;the whole dynasty�say each generation�were believed to have offered suchnbsp;sacrifices (cf. p. 515, note).

formation about himself. By his ascetic devotions he had won the favour of the Sun-god, who revealed to him the Yagus and promised him thatnbsp;Sarasvati, the goddess of learning, would enter him. When he camenbsp;home he thought of the goddess, and immediately she appeared beforenbsp;him �adorned with all the vowels and consonants�.^ With her help henbsp;composed the �atapatha Br�hmana. As a teacher he attained greatnbsp;success ; but this was displeasing to his maternal uncle, who possiblynbsp;was Vai�amp�yana (cf. p. 514, note 3).

Among other learned Brahmans we hear perhaps most frequently of Udd�laka �runi and his son �vetaketu. They figure in debates in thenbsp;Brhad�ranyaka and Ch�ndogya Upanishads, and are referred to asnbsp;authorities in Br�hmanas. �vetaketu is represented as very young in thenbsp;Upanishads. In Brhad. Upan. vi. 2 he is unable to answer questions putnbsp;to him by a king called Prav�hana Jaibali, and refers them to his father.nbsp;Udd�laka, who likewise cannot answer the questions, sets off to thenbsp;king and begs to become his disciple. In the Mahabharata Udd�lakanbsp;�runi is mentioned on several occasions. In i. iii he is the disciple of anbsp;seer named Ayoda Dhaumya. His teacher tells him to go and stop anbsp;drain; and he goes, but does not come back. When search is made fornbsp;him he is found lying in the drain, which he says he could not stop otherwise. �vetaketu is frequently mentioned. In iii. cxxxii the seer Loma�anbsp;points out to Yudhishthira the hermitage of �vetaketu, where he sawnbsp;the goddess Sarasvati in her heavenly form and begged her to endow himnbsp;with the gift of speech. Another remarkable story is told in i. cxxii. Anbsp;Brahman comes to Udd�laka�s house and takes away his wife. �vetaketunbsp;is greatly angered; but his father says that this is in accordance withnbsp;ancient usage, a usage still observed by animals. �vetaketu is then saidnbsp;to have established the law of conjugal fidelity.

Udd�laka is also said (iii. cxxxii. 8 ff.) to have had a daughter�much older than �vetaketu�who was married to one of his disciples callednbsp;Kahoda.� The latter was devoted to learning but not proficient. On onenbsp;occasion he is corrected by his unborn child, which he thereupon cursesnbsp;in his anger, saying it should be bom as a cripple.3 After this Kahoda

' It is to be noted that Sarasvati is often identified with Vac, i.e. �Speech� (personified).

� He is presumably the Kahola Kaushitakeya who in the Brhad. Upan. in. 5 comes with Udd�laka and others to question Y�jnavalkya.

3 Lit. �crooked in eight parts�, i.e. in his whole frame, which was regarded as consisting of eight parts (cf. I. Ixi. i). This is perhaps an attempt to explain the namenbsp;Astavakra (from astau, �eight�, and vakra, �crooked�). The story of the drainnbsp;(above) may be due to a similar attempt to account for the name Udd�laka.

sets out to compete for a prize given by King Janaka; but he is defeated by a rival called Vandi or Vandin^ and drowned. Soon afterwards thenbsp;child is bom posthumously, and named Asht�vakra. When he is in hisnbsp;twelfth year, he learns from �vetaketu for the first time of his father�snbsp;death. He makes up his mind to go himself to King Janaka, accompaniednbsp;by �vetaketu. He has some difficulty in obtaining admission to thenbsp;contest, owing to his age; but he eventually succeeds, and encountersnbsp;Vandi (in. cxxxiv). The contest is in readiness of speech, as in the case ofnbsp;Ferchertne and Nede (cf. Vol. i, p. 467), and Asht�vakra defeats hisnbsp;opponent. He and the Brahmans present then demand that Vandi (whonbsp;is described as Sauti, i.e. � son of a S�ta �) shall be drowned. It is stated thatnbsp;the latter has brought this fate upon many of his competitors. These nownbsp;return from the water restored to life, Kahoda amongst them, while Vandinbsp;goes to the water in their place and apparently drowns himself. Kahodanbsp;returns home with his son and shows him how to free himself from thenbsp;infirmity which the curse has brought upon him. To the competitionnbsp;itself we shall have to refer again in Ch. X. For Asht�vakra�s precociousnbsp;development we may compare the story of Taliesin�s childhood (cf.nbsp;Vol. I, p. 103 f.).

The examples given above will be sufficient, it is hoped, to convey some impression of the non-heroic stories preserved in the Mah�bh�rata.nbsp;They are extremely numerous and varied. It will be observed that thenbsp;stories relating to later times are of a more legendary character than thenbsp;notices of the same persons found in the Upanishads and Br�hmanas.nbsp;This is doubtless due largely to the fact that the Mah�bh�rata, as wenbsp;have it, is a much later work. In famous seers, as in famous heroes,nbsp;mythical elements tend to develop with the lapse of time.

The characteristics of the material discussed above are different in some respects from those of the heroic material, noticed on p. 477 if.nbsp;Most of it is narrative and concerned with adventure; but there is also anbsp;good deal of discussion practically without either narrative or adventure.nbsp;Again, some of the narratives, as well as the discussions, are intendednbsp;rather for instruction than for entertainment. On the whole there isnbsp;perhaps more of Type C (both CA and CB) than of Type A. As regardsnbsp;the times to which the stories and discussions are referred, it has beennbsp;mentioned that the Indian Heroic Age is difficult to date. None of thenbsp;characters, however, so far as we are aware, belong to a period later than

* The name is perhaps identical with the word vandin, �panegyric poet�. Possibly this word has been misunderstood as a proper name.

that of the philosophers who figure in the Upanishads; and there seem to be hardly any references to persons who lived after this time. Thenbsp;personnel of the non-heroic, as well as the heroic, elements in thenbsp;Mahabharata belongs apparently to times not later than the seventhnbsp;century.

Most of the non-heroic material in the Mahabharata has the same form and metre as the heroic. But it may have taken this over from the latter.nbsp;The stories in the Br�hmanas (which are non-heroic) are in the form ofnbsp;saga (prose) with many of the speeches in verse, as in Irish sagas ; andnbsp;we see no reason for doubting that this was the usual form of non-heroicnbsp;stories in early times.

In the Rgveda, references to the seers or sages who figure in the Mahabharata are extremely frequent. Some of them, such as Cyavananbsp;and �unah�epa, appear here also as characters of a legendary past; butnbsp;others, like Vasishtha and Vi�v�mitra, are persons of the present andnbsp;claim the authorship of various hymns. On the other hand the personsnbsp;who are introduced as speakers in the Br�hmanas and Upanishads arenbsp;unknown, and it may therefore be inferred that they belonged to laternbsp;times.

A difficulty is presented by the fact that the poet�s name appears very often in the plural. Sometimes both singular and plural are used, indiscriminately it would seem, in the same poem. The explanation of thisnbsp;is said to be that names like Vasishtha are not properly individualnbsp;names but surnames, derived from some remote ancestor. It is innbsp;accordance with this explanation that the name Kanva seldom occurs innbsp;the singular with reference to present time, though it is quite frequent innbsp;relation to the past, whereas the plural is very commonly used in relation to the present. The patronymic (Kanva) is also found, without anynbsp;apparent difference in meaning. Again, in viii. 22 the poet addressesnbsp;himself as Sobhari, but in the same poem he speaks of Sobhari as �our�nbsp;father or ancestor. But we do not know whether this explanation willnbsp;apply to all cases.

In poems which can be dated, by the panegyrics contained in them, to the earliest period (cf. p. 484) the only famous name� of this kind apparently is Bharadv�ja. This name occurs in the singular in vi. 16 and innbsp;the plural in vi. 47�poems relating to Divod�sa and his contemporaries.

� A hymn which celebrates �rutarvan (vili. 63) seems to be claimed by a certain Gopavana. The names of the authors of other panegyrics belonging to dlls periodnbsp;seem not to be mentioned.

It also occurs, both singular and plural and mostly in reference to the present, in a number of other poems in Book vi, but not in connectionnbsp;with names of princes which belong to the later periods. In i. 59, however, it is found in the plural, apparently in reference to the present,nbsp;with names otherwise unknown, which seem to be those of princes.nbsp;Elsewhere in Books i and x it occurs only in reference to the past. Sonbsp;far as the evidence goes therefore, it would seem that this name belongsnbsp;chiefly, if not exclusively, to the earliest period.

The names Vasishtha and Vi�v�mitra appear first in connection with Sudas, i.e. in the next period. Indeed their princely connections arenbsp;practically limited to this king. The former name occurs only once, sonbsp;far as we have observed, in a reference definitely to the past, viz. in thenbsp;catalogue poem i. 112, in which Bharadv�ja and various other charactersnbsp;of the past are also mentioned. In references to the present the namenbsp;Vasishtha, both singular and plural, occurs very frequently in Book viinbsp;and several times, in the singular, in Book x, while the plural form alsonbsp;�J^asisth�s) appears in x. 122. The most interesting cases perhaps arenbsp;vn. 18, 33 and 88. The first of these�to which we have already referred (p. 485)�gives an account of Sudas� victories on the Ravi and thenbsp;Jumna, and of the rewards which the poet received from him. Innbsp;vn. 33, which is a non-heroic poem of Type D, rather than a hymn innbsp;the ordinary sense, the same victories are referred to and attributed tonbsp;the prayers of�Vasishtha� (both singular and plural). Then (st. 7 If.) thenbsp;poet passes on to a panegyric upon the Vasishtha (plural) themselves,nbsp;who here are evidently regarded as a family. A supernatural origin isnbsp;claimed for them, though the details are not clear to us. �Vasishtha�,nbsp;presumably the originator of the family, is here said to have been bornnbsp;by the Apsaras (�nymph�) Urva�� to the gods Varuna and Mitra. Henbsp;is born at a sacrifice, and laid on a lotus-flower; but some part in thenbsp;story is also played by the legendary seer Agastya. It may be remarkednbsp;that in this poem (st. i) the Vasishtha are described as wearing whitenbsp;robes and having their hair tied up on the right�which may have beennbsp;characteristic marks of the family. In vii. 88 the poet (Vasishtha) saysnbsp;that Varuna had once taken him out to sea in a boat and there made himnbsp;a seer. He had also entered Varuna�s palace; but now, he complains, thenbsp;god has become estranged from him.

To Vi�v�mitra the scholastic tradition attributes most of the hymns in Book III; but the name seldom appears in the hymns themselves. Thenbsp;plural occurs in in. 18, 53; x. 89; the singular apparently only in iii. 53.nbsp;About half a dozen hymns, however, in Book III speak of the Ku�ika

(plural) as their authors; and from iii. 53, as well as from the scholastic tradition, it appears that this was the name of Vi�v�mitra�s family. In allnbsp;these hymns�where the names Vi�v�mitra or Ku�ika occur�thenbsp;reference is to the present. But the celebrity of the poet or his family maynbsp;be inferred from 1.10, where the patronymic Kau�ika is applied to Indra.nbsp;In III. 53 it is stated that Vi�v�mitra was, or had been in the service ofnbsp;Sudas, and that it was to the influence of him and the Ku�ika that thenbsp;king�s successes were due. But the most interesting poem of the series isnbsp;III. 33, which consists of a dialogue between �Ku�ika�s son� and thenbsp;rivers Vip�� and �utudr� (Beas and Sutlej), and is properly an examplenbsp;of Type B, rather than a hymn. In st. 2 f. the poet addresses the rivers,nbsp;at which apparently he has just arrived. In st. 4 the rivers reply and asknbsp;him what he wishes. In st. 5 he asks them to take a rest. In st. 6 thenbsp;rivers say that Indra dug their channels and let them flow, and ask thenbsp;poet to celebrate them. Then he begs them to lower their waters; andnbsp;they consent. He bids them flow on swiftly again, as soon as thenbsp;Bharata�presumably Sudas� troops�have passed over them. Thennbsp;(st. 12) follows a half-stanza of narrative, stating that the rivers assentednbsp;to the poet�s request, and that the Bharata passed over them. In conclusion he bids them fill their channels and speed on.

A slightly later time is perhaps represented by the poems of Sobhari in Book viii. In viii. 19 the poet celebrates Trasadasyu and in viii. 22nbsp;Trkshi, son of Trasadasyu. The singular only is used; but in the latternbsp;poem the author speaks both of himself as Sobhari (st. 2), and also ofnbsp;Sobhari as his father (st. 15). In viii. 5 Sobhari seems to be spoken of asnbsp;a character of the past.

�y�v��va is another poet who belonged apparently to about the same period. There seems to be no reason for regarding him otherwisenbsp;than as an individual; his name occurs only in the singular and in reference to the present. Several hymns in Books v and viii claim him asnbsp;their author. In viii. 36 f. he refers to Trasadasyu, perhaps as a personnbsp;of the past, while in v. 52 he says that he has himself acquired cattle andnbsp;horses on the Jumna�possibly as a present from the spoils of war. Thenbsp;great advance of the Aryans in this region may have begun in his time.

In Book X the scholastic tradition gives the names of a very large number of authors, though some of these are merely �characters� ornbsp;speakers in poems of Type B. Of the remaining names comparativelynbsp;few are recorded in the poems themselves, and of these again hardly anynbsp;seem to be famous. Vimada occurs in several poems, both singular andnbsp;plural, and in reference to the present�as also apparently in viii. 9. A

�O9 seer�or possibly hero�of the past with this name is referred to innbsp;several poems in Books i and x, usually in connection with his marriage.nbsp;It is likely therefore that this is another of the old family names.

One poem, x. 98, to which we have already referred (p. 484), must be noticed again here, because it has given rise to a question of considerable importance. The author is perhaps a certain Dev�pi �rshtishenanbsp;(i.e. son or descendant of Rshtishena. At all events this man is thenbsp;speaker in st. 1-4 and again perhaps in st. 8-12. These stanzas are an invocation to various deities for rain, on behalf of �amtanu {�amtanu),nbsp;who is evidently a king. The intervening stanzas (5-7) state that Dev�pinbsp;was �amtanu�s priest, and that the rain came down in answer to hisnbsp;prayers. Now the scholastic tradition, which can be traced back tonbsp;Yaska, c. 500 b.c., says that �amtanu and Dev�pi were brothers, and thenbsp;same statement occurs in the Mah�bh�rata (i. xciv. 61 f., etc.). If thisnbsp;is true the hereditary principle of Brahmanism was not yet definitelynbsp;fixed at this time�a prince could become a priest. But the poem itselfnbsp;gives no hint that the king and his priest were brothers. Moreover, thenbsp;name Rshtishena does not occur among the ancestors of �amtanunbsp;{��ntanu) in either of the genealogies of this king given in the Mah�bh�rata (i. xciv f.). In both cases �amtanu is son of Pratipa; and in cap.nbsp;xcvii there is a story which suggests that he was his eldest, if not his only,nbsp;son�as against v. cxlix. 16 (cf. i. xcv. 44), where Dev�pi is the eldest.nbsp;But it may be observed that other names in -sena appear in both genealogies shortly before Pratipa. In i. xcv. 41 his grandfather is Bhimasena,nbsp;son of Parikshit. In xciv. 54 Parikshit has six sons with names in -sena,nbsp;though here he is not Pratipa�s great-grandfather, but a collateral. Thenbsp;evidence then, taken as a whole, rather suggests that in an earlier form ofnbsp;the story Dev�pi was not �amtanu�s brother, but a more distantlynbsp;related member of the royal family.

The Vedic seers are persons of very different character from those who bear the same names in the Mah�bh�rata. They are credited withnbsp;being able by their invocations to influence the gods, so as to obtainnbsp;blessings for their patrons. But they make no claim to be equal ornbsp;superior to the gods. Indeed they do not seem to differ in any noteworthy respect from their counterparts in the West. Mythical elementsnbsp;occur only in stories of the past, e.g. in the story relating to the originnbsp;of the Vasishtha. Yet the Vasishtha and the Vicv�rnitra of the Mah�bh�rata would seem to be those of Sud�s� time, rather than their mythicalnbsp;progenitors. These at all events were certainly contemporaries, and it

is not impossible that they may have been brought into hostility, as rivals for the king�s favour, though the poems do not record anythingnbsp;of the kind. Neither do they record that Vi�v�mitra was originally anbsp;prince. Perhaps in his time there would have been nothing remarkablenbsp;in that�though there is some evidence, as we have seen, that he belonged to a prophetic family. It is hardly necessary to discuss the storynbsp;which makes him father of �akuntal� and grandfather of Bharata�nbsp;the remote legendary ancestor of Sudas.

The life of the Vedic seers also seems to be very different from that which they lead in the epics. We hear nothing of asceticism or hermitages in the forest. The feature which perhaps strikes us most forciblynbsp;is the naive satisfaction with which they record the rich presents bestowednbsp;upon them by the kings. To these subjects, however, we shall have tonbsp;return in a later chapter.

It is beyond our power to deal with the material relating to the seers and their genealogies contained in the Pur�nas. We believe this isnbsp;generally agreed to be very largely a product of antiquarian speculation.nbsp;The brief summaries given above will perhaps be sufficient to indicatenbsp;the distinctive features of the material to be found in the Rgveda, thenbsp;Br�hmanas and Upanishads, and the epics. It will be seen that the seers ofnbsp;the epics are, in name at least, largely identical with those of the Rgveda;nbsp;and the same is true of the Pur�nas. But the seers and sages who figurenbsp;in the Br�hmanas and Upanishads belong in general to a later period.

IN Vol. I, Ch. VII, we saw that the early heroic poetry and saga of the Western peoples usually, if not always, seems to contain anbsp;considerable historical element. The evidence available for determining the existence of this element was classified as follows : (a) contemporary native records; (^) foreign records independent of nativenbsp;influence; (c) independent (native) traditions in different areas; (lt;/) independent traditions in the same area; (e) the consistency of heroicnbsp;tradition. The relative value of these various kinds of evidence is innbsp;general according to the order in which they are arranged. The mostnbsp;important is (a)�which may very well be conclusive�while (e) is ofnbsp;comparatively little value, if there is any valid evidence to the contrary.nbsp;In addition to these we have to take account of (�) evidence from antiquities�material, social, religious, etc.�^and �g, �) evidence from personal and local names.

For ancient Indian heroic stories evidence which comes under (^) seems to be wholly wanting. Evidence under (c) may very well exist;nbsp;but we are not competent to deal with it. In regard to (^/) the Brahmanicalnbsp;tradition, found in the Vedas and Br�hmanas is in general doubtlessnbsp;independent of heroic tradition; but the heroic tradition, representednbsp;in the epics, is very frequently, especially in the main story of thenbsp;Mahabharata, not free from the influence of late Brahmanical tradition.nbsp;Evidence which comes strictly under (a) can hardly be said to exist; butnbsp;the textual tradition of the Rgveda is so good that the poems may almostnbsp;be regarded as coming under this heading. The evidence of the epicsnbsp;themselves and the Pur�nas is of course much inferior in value. Thenbsp;evidence available for this subject from the Br�hmanas and Upanishadsnbsp;is very small in amount; but these works are preserved in a muchnbsp;earlier form than the epics. Evidence from other literary sources, including Buddhist records, is hardly earlier than the fourth centurynbsp;(b.c.). Neither the archaeological evidence nor the local and personalnbsp;names seem to have been investigated to any considerable extent, thoughnbsp;some rather striking evidence has been noted in social usages and religion.nbsp;On the whole therefore the material�so far at least as it is known to us

�is less varied than in the West, in spite of the vast extent and highly composite character of some of the records.

We need have no hesitation in treating the statements contained in the Rvgeda as historical, when they relate to the present. Reservationsnbsp;may be made in respect of the claims of certain seers, e.g. as to thenbsp;success of their invocations in staying the course of a river; and therenbsp;may be exaggerations here and there. Legendary elements appear innbsp;poems, especially catalogue poems, relating to heroes of the past. Thenbsp;evidence of the Br�hmanas is similar; but the legendary element isnbsp;greater, because references to the past are more frequent.�

It is only in regard to the heroic stories contained in the epics that any discussion is necessary. But this is a subject which unfortunately,nbsp;owing to the vast bulk and complex character of the material, it isnbsp;quite beyond our power to treat systematically. It is generally agreed,nbsp;as we have seen, that the kernel of the Mahabharata is the heroic story ofnbsp;the battle and the events which lead up to it, and that this story has beennbsp;amplified by the addition of other stories and didactic matter, which innbsp;its present form constitute at least four-fifths of the whole work. Thenbsp;different elements are very often clearly distinguishable; but this is notnbsp;always the case. The heroic parts of the work seem frequently to havenbsp;been expanded and recast under Brahmanic influence; and there is anbsp;large antiquarian element of uncertain provenance. Above all we arenbsp;quite in the dark as to the age of the various elements. Variants andnbsp;discrepancies abound.

It is the prevailing opinion now that the heroic story which forms the central theme of the Mahabharata contains a historical nucleus,� thoughnbsp;the events which gave rise to it took place several centuries before thenbsp;beginning of what may properly be called the historical period. Suchnbsp;evidence as is available is thought to point to the eleventh or tenthnbsp;centuries B.c., by those scholars who have recently expressed opinionsnbsp;on the subject.3 The most definite evidence for such a date is suppliednbsp;by the genealogies or successions of kings contained in the Pur�nas. Itnbsp;is true that only three of these lists are continued down to the historicalnbsp;period and that more than one of these has included a series of names

* The frequency with which the divine seers N�rada and Parvata are introduced, especially in association with kings, shows how extensively even early Brahmanicalnbsp;tradition was permeated by legendary elements.

3 The date indicated by the Pur�nas is reckoned at c. 950 by Pargiter, Ancient Indian Historical Tradition, p, 182; c. 1000 by Rapson, op. cit., I. 307, 697; in centurynbsp;xi by Sidhanta, The Heroic Age of India, p. 41.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS 5x3 which do not belong to it. But when these errors have been removed itnbsp;is noteworthy that the lists are of approximately the same length fromnbsp;the time of the battle of the Mahabharata down to the beginning of thenbsp;historical period. The three kings who were reigning in the time of thenbsp;Buddha, c. 500 b.c., would seem to be the twenty-second, twenty-thirdnbsp;and twenty-fourth respectively in succession from the kings who foughtnbsp;in the battle.^ The actual date which is indicated for the battle dependsnbsp;upon the question whether these are really genealogies or lists ofnbsp;(reigning) l�ngs�which unfortunately is not quite clear. In the formernbsp;case it is difficult to believe that the date indicated can be much laternbsp;than 1100; in the latter it might be as late as 900, or even later.

The Pur�nas unfortunately can hardly be regarded as satisfactory evidence. For times anterior to the story of the Mahabharata one maynbsp;suspect that they are largely products of antiquarian speculation; andnbsp;even in later times they contain serious mistakes. It is of importancenbsp;therefore that some corroborative evidence is to be obtained from thenbsp;Br�hmanas. More than one of these works contain a list of kings whonbsp;have offered the horse sacrifice {a�vamedha}. In this list are included thenbsp;names of (i) Janamejaya and his brothers, the sons of Parikshit, andnbsp;(ii) a certain �at�n�ka S�tr�jita. It is generally agreed that this Janamejaya is the king to whom the Mahabharata claims to have been firstnbsp;recited (cf. p. 501), and whose father Parikshit is son of Abhimanyu,nbsp;who is killed in the battle. �at�n�ka S�tr�jita in the Pur�nic genealogy,nbsp;as also in the Mah�bh�rata (i. xcv. 85), is Janamejaya�s son. Thenbsp;Br�hmanas give no dates; but they speak of these kings as persons ofnbsp;the past�which means probably at least not later than the eighthnbsp;century.

Parikshit himself, as we have seen (p. 482), is in all probability celebrated in the Atharveda, xx. i. 27, which is evidently a contemporary panegyric. The poem describes the peace and prosperity which prevailnbsp;during his reign, but gives us no particulars relating to the man himself,nbsp;except the name of his kingdom (Kuru). Unfortunately also it cannotnbsp;be dated.

There is some evidence, we think, in favour of a dating rather later than what is suggested by the lists of kings in the Pur�nas. Vai�am-p�yana, who recites the Mah�bh�rata to King Janamejaya, is connected innbsp;the scholastic tradition, at least indirectly, with the Yajurveda. We neednbsp;not take too seriously the statement of the Pur�nas that he was thenbsp;author of this Veda. But several scholars who lived between the fourth

and the second centuries (b.c.), including Panini and Patanjali, state that the authors of certain early recensions of that collection were pupils ofnbsp;Vai�amp�yana. Such is said to have been the case with Kalapin andnbsp;Katha, the authors of the Maitr�yani Samhit� and the K�thaka Samhit�,nbsp;while Tittiri, the author of the Taittiriya Samhit�, is stated to have beennbsp;a pupil of a certain Y�ska Paingi, who was himself a pupil of Vai�amp�yana? We believe that most modem scholars would regard a datenbsp;c. 750-700 as probable for these recensions. Again, according tonbsp;another authority of the same class the seer Aruna Aupave�i, father ofnbsp;Udd�laka �runi, was likewise a pupil of Vai�amp�yana.� Udd�laka isnbsp;one of the two most prominent seers who figure in the Upanishads ; thenbsp;other, Y�jnavalkya, is his contemporary and pupil. Neither of the twonbsp;can be dated with certainty; but we believe that the �atapatha Br�h-mana, in which Y�jnavalkya is the authority most frequently cited,nbsp;would be attributed by most scholars to a period about a century laternbsp;than the Samhit�s of the Black Yajurveda mentioned above. Y�jnavalkya 3 himself and Udd�laka may reasonably be thought to have livednbsp;between 750 and 650. All these considerations point to a date notnbsp;earlier than c. 800 for Vai�amp�yana and Janamejaya. The grandfathernbsp;of the latter is killed in the great battle of the Mah�bh�rata. Consequentlynbsp;the time to which the story relates would seem to fall within the ninthnbsp;century.

It is to be observed that a number of uncertain quantities are involved here. Not one of the works referred to can be dated with certainty,nbsp;though we believe that the dates given above are approximately whatnbsp;would be favoured by the majority of scholars. It is often uncertain hownbsp;long a seer lived before the composition of a work in which he is quoted,nbsp;or at least before it attained its present form. Vai�amp�yana is notnbsp;mentioned in any very early work, i.e. in any work of the true Br�hmananbsp;period.'* For the contemporaneity of Vai�amp�yana and Janamejaya we

* For references see Weber, Hist. Indian Literature, p. 93 ; v. Schroeder, Maitr. Samhit�, I. x f.; Keith, Veda of the Black Yajus School, p. xci.

3 In Mahabh. xn. cccxix Y�jnavalkya relates to Janaka how he was inspired to compose the (White) Yajurveda and �atapatha Br�hmana and taught them to hisnbsp;pupils. He adds (st. 17) that thereby he displeased his great maternal uncle. Innbsp;st. 19 he refers to a dispute with the same relative about a sacrificial fee. In the formernbsp;passage Dutt�s translation adds the name Vai�amp�yana. We do not know whatnbsp;authority there is for this relationship between Y�jnavalkya and Vai�amp�yana.

He is said to be mentioned first in the Taittiriya Aranyaka, the date of which is unknown to us.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS 515 are dependent upon the evidence of the Mah�bh�rata. In spite of thesenbsp;objections, however, we think that the evidence noted above collectivelynbsp;is on the whole to be preferred to that of the lists of kings in the Pur�nas,nbsp;though we are not clear that the two are necessarily incompatible. Thenbsp;important point is that the period of the learned seers, from Vai�am-p�yana to Udd�laka and Y�jnavalkya, seems to be very short, thoughnbsp;this is of value for the question under discussion only if we accept thenbsp;contemporaneity of Vai�amp�yana and Janamejaya.�^ We are inclinednbsp;therefore to the late dating suggested above; but in view of the totalnbsp;absence of fixed landmarks in the chronology we shall avoid the use ofnbsp;dates as far as possible.

It has already been noted that the Rgveda does not mention any of the heroes who figure in the main story of the Mah�bh�rata, though one�nbsp;probably very late�poem (x. 98) relates to ��ntanu, the father of thenbsp;old hero Bhishma and grandfather of Dhrtar�shtra. There is thereforenbsp;a gap of four generations between the two kings, ��ntanu and Parikshit,nbsp;for whom we have contemporary evidence, though the Mah�bh�ratanbsp;makes Bhishma to live on practically until Parikshit�s birth�and it is innbsp;this gap that the (main) story of the Mah�bh�rata falls. The gap must ofnbsp;course be reckoned at something over a century. Consequently, if wenbsp;accept a date c. 900-850 for the battle and Parikshit�s birth, ��ntanu�snbsp;lifetime must be placed in the tenth century. Then, according to thenbsp;evidence noticed on p. 484 ff., the early hymns of the Rgveda will gonbsp;back to the twelfth century, perhaps even to the beginning of it. Onnbsp;the other hand, if a date c. 1000 or c. 1100 be preferred for the battle, the

� There is one piece of early evidence which may Indicate that Janamejaya did live about this time. In Brhad. in. 3 Y�jnavalkya is asked �What has become of thenbsp;P�rikshitas.^� This is interpreted by many scholars to mean that the dynasty hadnbsp;already come to an end in some great disaster. If this is correct, we must of coursenbsp;reject in toto the evidence of the Pur�nas, which give Parikshit a list of over twentynbsp;successors, coming down to the time of the Buddha. But Y�jnavalkya�s reply is thatnbsp;�they have gone whither horse-sacrificers go�, and the context shows that a varietynbsp;of heaven is meant. It would seem therefore that no more can fairly be inferrednbsp;than that the P�rikshitas are dead. This name may mean either �descendants of�nbsp;or �sons of Parikshit�. In point of fact there is record of horse-sacrifices offered bynbsp;Janamejaya and his brothers and also by Janamejaya�s son �at�n�ka. But therenbsp;is no evidence, so far as we know, that such a sacrifice�which implies a kindnbsp;of imperial power�was celebrated by any later king of this dynasty. It seemsnbsp;unnecessary therefore to assume that the dynasty had come to an end. Thenbsp;reference may be to Parikshit�s immediate successors. They had been powerfulnbsp;monarchs; but they have passed away�though not very long ago. They are stillnbsp;remembered.

Any such dating is of course based upon the assumption that the story of the Mahabharata contains a nucleus of historical fact; but wenbsp;believe that, in principle at least, this would now be admitted by thenbsp;majority of scholars. Unhistorical elements of course abound; but wenbsp;see no reason for supposing that in the combination of unhistorical withnbsp;historical elements the story differs essentially from the heroic narrativenbsp;poetry of the peoples we have already considered. The period duringnbsp;which it was preserved wholly by oral tradition must have been verynbsp;long. Yet there is little trace of�contamination� between it and the othernbsp;heroic stories�of R�ma, Nala, S�vitri�which are introduced episodically. The leading characters do not betray a fictitious or mythicalnbsp;origin by their names or other obvious features. Supernatural beingsnbsp;are distinguished clearly enough from heroes and other human beings.nbsp;The hypothesis that heroes are �faded gods� has indeed been applied tonbsp;the Mahabharata, just as to the heroic poetry of other peoples; but thenbsp;evidence seems to be no more satisfactory here than elsewhere. On thenbsp;other hand the growth of myth may be traced, especially in the last booknbsp;of the R�m�yana, just as clearly as in the late stories of the childhood ofnbsp;Sigur�r.

So far as we are aware, only one serious argument has been brought against the story of the Mahabharata, apart from details, namely thenbsp;absence of reference to it in early literature. But it is not easy to seenbsp;where references to it could reasonably be expected. The time to whichnbsp;it relates seems to be later than that of the Rgveda. The hymn (x. 98) innbsp;which �amtanu figures may be one of the latest in the whole collection;nbsp;at all events it is not clear that any of the other princes mentioned livednbsp;after him. The poems of the Atharvaveda were doubtless still beingnbsp;composed; but they very seldom refer to contemporary princes; and thenbsp;same appears to be true of the other Vedas. On the other hand thenbsp;Br�hmanas, and more especially the Upanishads, contain frequentnbsp;references to princes of the not very remote past. But these are works of

! The uncertainties expressed in this paragraph are due to certain factors which are unknown to us but quite definite, and which may possibly be made clear, withinnbsp;certain limits, by future investigation. We see no adequate reason for the nebulousnbsp;dating advocated by some scholars (e.g. Winternitz, Gesch. d. ind. Litteratur, i. 258).nbsp;It is doubtless true that the history of Indian literature may in a sense go back tonbsp;the third millennium B.C., or even earlier. But the same might be said of Greek,nbsp;English, or Irish. We do not see how such an antiquity can be claimed for anynbsp;existing poems.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS JI7 essentially �ecclesiastical� and learned character. No one who is familiarnbsp;with early Western literature would expect to find references to heroicnbsp;stories in such works, or to the heroes themselves, except by merenbsp;chance.

The times in which the Br�hmanas and Upanishads were composed were doubtless later than those in which the story of the Mahabharata isnbsp;laid ; and if it is not pure fiction, the story must by then have alreadynbsp;assumed some kind of �literary� form�otherwise it would have beennbsp;forgotten. The Mahabharata itself claims to have acquired this literarynbsp;form in the time of Janamejaya, which is not unreasonable. But whynbsp;should the Br�hmanas or Upanishads refer to a heroic story We have anbsp;very large body of ecclesiastical and learned literature, both Latin andnbsp;vernacular, surviving from the Saxon period in England. But, as wenbsp;have already remarked (p. 449), this literature preserves, so far as wenbsp;are aware, only one direct reference to heroic poetry�in a letter,nbsp;quoted in Vol. I, p. 556�though one or two other passages betraynbsp;knowledge of it. Yet the learned literature of Saxon England aboundsnbsp;in references to kings, far more than the Br�hmanas and Upanishads,nbsp;which indeed seldom mention such persons, unless they were famous asnbsp;sacrificers, like Janamejaya, or patrons of learning, like Janaka of Videha.

If we were to argue from the silence of the ecclesiastical literature that heroic poetry was little known in England, we should go badly astray.nbsp;But the evidence for its cultivation is to be found not in literary worksnbsp;but in registers of personal names and local nomenclature. Thus wenbsp;know from the Durham Liber Vitae that in the seventh century�notnbsp;long before or after Bede�s birth�there were two members of thenbsp;Lindisfarne community called Widsith and Beowulf; but Bede himselfnbsp;in all his voluminous writings never betrays acquaintance with heroicnbsp;poetry. Such sources of information seem unfortunately to be wantingnbsp;for ancient India. But is there any valid reason for doubting that innbsp;India, as in England, ecclesiastical and heroic literature ran in separatenbsp;channels.^

This expression, it is true, is not quite correct; for both in England and in India we find ecclesiastical literature encroaching upon heroic.nbsp;The reverse process, however, does not occur. It is only quite rarelynbsp;that we find acquaintance with heroic poetry betrayed by some mistake.nbsp;For an example, not strictly of ecclesiastical character, we may refer tonbsp;the Historia Brittonum, cap. 31, where in an English genealogy�nbsp;derived from an English source�we find �Finn son of Folcwald(a)�nbsp;for �Finn son of Godwulf�. This passage must have come through the

hands of someone who was familiar with the famous Frisian hero Finn son of Folcwalda. An analogy to this is to be found, we suspect, in thenbsp;K�thaka Samhit� of the Yajurveda, where reference is made to a learnednbsp;king named Dhrtar�shtra Vaicitrav�rya. He is believed^ to be identicalnbsp;with a Dhrtar�shtra, king of K��, who attempted to celebrate a horsesacrifice, but was prevented from doing so and then conquered bynbsp;�at�n�ka S�tr�jita. The agreement of this double name with that of thenbsp;blind king in the Mahabharata can hardly be due to accident; fornbsp;Dhrtar�shtra is not a common name, while Vicitrav�rya seems to benbsp;quite rare. It is to be suspected therefore that the surname in thenbsp;K�thaka Samhit� is derived from some source familiar with heroicnbsp;tradition.

Scholars who are more familiar with the sources than we are could probably produce further evidence for influence of this kind.� What wenbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;*

would emphasise is that in countries, like India and England, where the ecclesiastical and heroic spheres were sharply divided from onenbsp;another, it is only by such indirect evidence, if at all, that one can hopenbsp;to find any notice from the former of the existence of the latter.3 Thenbsp;silence of the ecclesiastical authorities proves nothing, except the absencenbsp;of connection between the two. In both cases the heroic sphere came tonbsp;be invaded�in India dominated�by a kind of popular ecclesiasticism;nbsp;but this was far removed from the academic ecclesiasticism of learnednbsp;circles.

It is hardly necessary to point out the independence of the two traditions. The kings who figure most prominently in Vedic or in Brahmanic literature, such as Divod�sa and Sud�s, are hardly more than names in thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata. Janamejaya is the only one of whom much is said ; and henbsp;belongs to the framework of the Mah�bh�rata, not to the story itself.

� Cf. Macdonell and Keith, Kedic Index, l. 403; Cambridge History of India, I. 119.

� �ikhandin Y�jnasena in the Kaush. Br. vii. 4 strikes one as at least a strange coincidence; both this �ikhandin and his father seem to be seers. For Balhikanbsp;Pr�tip�ya, who is mentioned in �at. Br. xn. 9. 3. 3, we may refer to Macdonell andnbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�

Keith, Hedic Index, ii. 63 f. As regards the V�hlika of the Mah�bh�rata it may be noted that he is not a prominent figure in the story, though he is mentioned fairlynbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;?

often. His age is not emphasised, like that of his nephew Bhishma, though he fights and falls in the battle against the great-grandsons and great-great-grandsons of hisnbsp;brother. Some mistaken identification or chronological displacement seems notnbsp;unlikely.

3 Heroic stories may perhaps be included under the term Itih�s� Pur�na in Ath. V. XV. 6 and elsewhere; but the name is doubtless applied also to non-heroicnbsp;stories.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS 519 Moreover the events connected with him are not the same/ unless we arenbsp;to suppose that the snake-sacrifice is a distorted reminiscence of thenbsp;horse-sacrifice. With non-heroic (Brahmanic) stories of course the casenbsp;is different. Many Vedic prophets and poets figure in the Mahabharata.nbsp;But the fantastic stories here told of them are quite foreign to the Vedas.nbsp;These elements, if not wholly independent from the beginning, like thenbsp;heroic elements, seem to represent the tradition of a type of Brahmanismnbsp;different from what is found in the Br�hmanas and Upanishads.

We are not qualified to discuss the civilisation described in the Mahabharata. But there is one feature which has attracted a good deal ofnbsp;attention, namely the polyandry associated with Draupadi. She is dulynbsp;married not only to Arjuna, who has won her at the svayamvara, but alsonbsp;to his four brothers. Her father, when he first hears of the proposal,nbsp;speaks of it (i. cxcvii. 27 f.) as an unheard of and sinful proceeding.nbsp;But Yudhishthira replies (ib. 29) that �we follow the path successivelynbsp;trodden by our ancestors�.� No such custom seems, however, to benbsp;known among the other princes of the Kuru, or in any of the numerousnbsp;other royal families mentioned in the Mahabharata; and it is foreign tonbsp;Hindu law. But it is actually practised by some of the hill-peoples.nbsp;Again, we may observe that not much is recorded of P�ndu, the fathernbsp;of the heroes. His sons are born after he has retired to the forest; andnbsp;their existence is not known to the Kuru until after his death. F rom thesenbsp;facts it has generally been inferred that in the original form of the storynbsp;the heroes did not belong to the royal family of the Kuru, but were ofnbsp;alien, presumably non-Aryan origin. Other explanations are of coursenbsp;possible.3 Such a custom might arise (e.g.) through shortage of royalnbsp;or noble women, in a land which has been recently conquered andnbsp;settled. In any case, however, there can be little doubt that the storynbsp;here preserves a very ancient feature, which must date back to a timenbsp;when the Aryanisation of the land of the Kuru was recent or incomplete.

This conclusion is important, because in later times�indeed apparently even in the age of the Br�hmanas�the land of the Kuru seems to be regarded as the heart of Aryan India and the chief home ofnbsp;orthodox Brahmanism. Yet in the Rgveda the Jumna lies on the frontiernbsp;of Aryan territory, if not beyond it. It is only in the latest poems,

� A reminiscence of Janamejaya�s conquests is preserved in Mahabh. i. iii. 22.

� We owe this transi, to the kindness of Prof. Rapson. Cf. also Win terni tz, Gesch. d. ind. Litteratur^ p. 283.

3 Cf. Sidhanta, The Heroic Age of India, p. 121, where attention is called to the fact that Caesar (Gall. v. 14) notes the existence of a similar custom in Britain.

perhaps only in x. 98, that we hear of princes who probably ruled in the land of the Kuru, though this name is not mentioned. �amtanu, thenbsp;king mentioned in x. 98, is in the Mahabharata the great-grandfather ofnbsp;the heroes. The conquest would therefore seem to have taken place notnbsp;very long before their time. It may be of interest also in this connectionnbsp;to note that the stories, legendary as they are, represent �amtanu asnbsp;marrying women of the land. The case of Gang�, who is a divine being,nbsp;should perhaps not be pressed. But Satyavati^ and her family, thenbsp;�fishing-people�, are clearly native.

For the other heroic stories little evidence is available. They are all introduced in the Mahabharata as stories told to Yudhishthira, andnbsp;therefore relating to times anterior to the main story. Little weight,nbsp;however, can be attached to this consideration.

R�ma and his father Da�aratha are referred in the genealogies of the Pur�nas to a remote antiquity, nearly thirty generations before thenbsp;battle described in the Mahabharata; but we need not take this evidencenbsp;very seriously. A better clue is probably to be obtained from Janaka ofnbsp;Videha, the father of S�t�. A king Janaka of Videha figures frequentlynbsp;in the Upanishads, as the patron of Y�jnavalkya and other seers of hisnbsp;time. In the philosophical parts of the Mahabharata (xii. ccxviii f.,nbsp;ccciii ff., cccx If., cccxxi) we hear of at least four kings of Videha with thisnbsp;name, all having much the same characteristics; from which it maynbsp;perhaps be inferred that the name was dynastic, or perhaps a title.� Innbsp;any case the evidence, for what it is worth, suggests that the story ofnbsp;R�ma relates to the age of the philosophical seers�the eighth ornbsp;seventh century. We do not know of any evidence in the story itselfnbsp;which is incompatible with such a date.3 It is not likely that the Aryani-sation of these eastern kingdoms, Ayodhya (Kosala) and Videha, goesnbsp;back to very remote times.4

� In Mah. i. Ixiii. 61 ff. and the Pur�nas she has a brother called Matsya, presumably the eponymos of the Matsya kingdom. This name (�Fish�) may be compared withnbsp;the Aja (�Goats�) and �igru (�Horse-radishes�) mentioned in Rgv. vii. 18 amongnbsp;Sudas� enemies. Possibly such names are due to the substitution of familiar wordsnbsp;for foreign names of similar sound.

� It is curious that the name Janaka is identical in origin with Norse konungr, �king�, and almost identical with our word king-, but this may of course be accidental.

3 In R�m. Vasishtha and other famous seers of the far past are occasionally introduced, along with seers of the Upanishads; but these incidents do not affect the course of events, and are doubtless embellishments of the story.

In the �at. Br. i. 4. i. 10, 17, Brahmanism is said to have been introduced into Videha by a certain Mathava Videgha; but unfortunately no indication of date seemsnbsp;to be given.

For the story of Nala the evidence is again limited, but somewhat more definite. The Aitareya Br�hmana, vil. 34, mentions Bhima ofnbsp;Vidarbha in a list of princes who made offerings of soma, while the heronbsp;himself (Nala of Nishadha) is probably to be identified with a Nadanbsp;Naishadha referred to in a verse preserved in the �atapatha Br�hmana,nbsp;II. 2. 3. 2. The verse says that Nada carries Yama southwards every day.�nbsp;He seems to be compared with the god of death because of his conquests�apparently towards the south. It is to be observed that thenbsp;Br�hmanas show no knowledge of the story of Nala. Their informationnbsp;is clearly derived from other sources, and quite independent. No indication of date is given by either passage, though the majority of thenbsp;kings mentioned in the Br�hmanas seem to belong to times later thannbsp;that of the main story of the Mahabharata. And it is not at all likely thatnbsp;these southern regions came into Aryan hands in early times. On thenbsp;other hand the Br�hmanas themselves are believed to date from thenbsp;seventh century; and the poetry which they quote seems usually to benbsp;older. Bhima is evidently a person of the past; for he is associated withnbsp;the divine seer N�rada. We shall probably not go far wrong therefore ifnbsp;we assign these kings to a somewhat earlier period�say between thenbsp;ninth and the seventh centuries.

The story of S�viti� relates to the kingdoms of Madra and Salva in the north of India. The chief characters of the story are apparently notnbsp;mentioned in any early records ; but that is in no way surprising, sincenbsp;the history of these lands is little known. It is clear that Satyavatnbsp;(S�vitr�s husband) and his father Dyumatsena are not charactersnbsp;created for the story; for they appear elsewhere (xn. cclxvii) in a whollynbsp;different connection. Here they are introduced as discussing the principles of punishment for law-breakers�a scene which certainly belongsnbsp;to the Brahmanical portions of the work. There is no reference tonbsp;S�vitr� or her story. The evidence therefore falls under the variety (t/)nbsp;defined on p. 511 ; and it is probably a trustworthy example of independent traditions. As regards the period to which the story relates,nbsp;the �Discussion� would seem to suggest that of the philosophical kings,nbsp;i.e. more or less that of the last three stories.

The story of Amb� is more complicated, though the Brahmanical element is, except at the beginning, not very obvious. The names ofnbsp;the three princesses carried off by Bhishma recur in certain formulaenbsp;used in the R�jas�ya and A�vamedha sacrifices,� from which it would

� In the (Black) Yajurveda; see Keith, Veda of the Black Yaius School, 11. 6i� (cf. Vol. I. p. 118).

seem that they were titles of the wives�apparently the junior wives� of the king of the Kuru. Ambik� and Ambalik� figure only in the incident where Vy�sa is introduced (cf. p. 475); and since Vyasa, if he is anbsp;real person, would seem to have belonged to a much later period, thisnbsp;preliminary part of the story may be regarded as a (Brahmanical) fiction.nbsp;But the story itself deviates from heroic standards in some respects. Thenbsp;heroine has no name other than Amb�, and no personal names are givennbsp;either to her father or to the prince to whom she is betrothed. Hernbsp;asceticism and re-birth are also unexpected in this connection, though thenbsp;metempsychosis is more of the Norse type than of the type usuallynbsp;found in India. The introduction of the god �iva perhaps points to anbsp;late date. Suspicion may also be felt with regard to the Brahman heronbsp;R�ma J�madagni, who elsewhere is introduced into what seem to benbsp;late additions to various stories. All these considerations suggest a largenbsp;imaginative or �romantic� element in the story. The motif is very remarkable, and it is difficult to avoid the suspicion that the story has beennbsp;re-cast under the inffuence of a folktale.

Upon the story of Bharata enough perhaps has been said in Ch. II (p. 474). Here we need only note that, if the story contains any historical element, there must be some mistaken identification of thenbsp;eponymos with a later prince.

Historical elements are to be found, we believe, in all the stories discussed above, except the two last�which are at least not purelynbsp;heroic. Of the rest the story of R�ma is probably the least historical.nbsp;But, taking the group as a whole, we see no reason for supposing thatnbsp;Indian heroic poetry differs in this respect from that of the West.

It is to be remembered, however, that all the heroic material together constitutes only a small fraction of the Mah�bh�rata. Historical elementsnbsp;are not wanting also in the non-heroic narrative portions of the work.nbsp;There can be no reasonable doubt that Janamejaya is a historical character, whatever may be thought of his snake-sacrifice. Many of the seersnbsp;also are certainly historical persons. But we should seldom be preparednbsp;to guarantee the historicity of what is related of them. They seem oftennbsp;to be introduced without regard to chronology; and their adventuresnbsp;and experiences in general can hardly be taken otherwise than asnbsp;products of fiction�like those attributed to the same class of persons innbsp;the West.

From what has been said above it will be clear enough that the Mahabharata contains an immense amount of material for the study of

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS 523 certain types of fiction. But any attempt to treat this systematicallynbsp;would be beyond our powers. We shall therefore confine our attentionnbsp;to a few typical examples of unhistorical matter, which occur either innbsp;the heroic portions of the work or in antiquarian elements which arenbsp;closely connected with the main theme and may have been incorporatednbsp;with it in early times.

For determining the existence of unhistorical elements certain criteria were specified in Vol. i, Ch. viii. The first two of these neednbsp;hardly be considered here. We have no historical documents by whichnbsp;to check the stories; the Rgveda relates to earlier times. Again, thenbsp;various heroic stories are so little connected with one another, thatnbsp;evidence of a conflicting kind is hardly to be found in them, thoughnbsp;discrepant and even contradictory accounts of an event frequentlynbsp;occur in the same story.

Deities and other supernatural beings are introduced much as in the Homeric poems and in Irish heroic sagas. Sometimes they appear disguised as Brahmans. It is in this disguise that in Mah�bh. iii. cccviii {adnbsp;fin.') ff. Indra visits Karna and begs from him the armour and earringsnbsp;with which he was born. Shortly before this (ccxcix IF.) S�rya, the sungod, who is Kama�s father, has appeared to him in a dream, likewisenbsp;disguised as a Brahman, and warned him of Indra�s intentions. But innbsp;cccv. 8 f. S�rya visits Kunti, Kama�s mother, without disguise�in hisnbsp;divine, though anthropomorphic, form. Indra and various other godsnbsp;seem likewise to be without disguise in i. ccxxix f., when they fight withnbsp;Arjuna and Krshna and are put to flight by them. In i. ccxxvii, Agni,nbsp;the fire-god, presents these heroes with weapons�Arjuna also with anbsp;chariot and horses�which they afterwards use regularly. Similarnbsp;incidents occur elsewhere not unfrequently.

One of the most interesting cases occurs in the story of Nala, ii if. (Mah�bh. iii. liv ff.), where the gods Indra, Agni, Varuna and Yamanbsp;hear of Damayanti�s svayamvara and set off to it as suitors. On the waynbsp;they meet with Nala and commission him, much against his will, to actnbsp;as their messenger. Damayanti insists that she will have Nala himself;nbsp;but when she comes before the assembled princes, she finds five figuresnbsp;exactly alike in the form of Nala. At her entreaty the gods display thenbsp;divine characteristics by which she is able to distinguish them fromnbsp;Nala. Then they bestow blessings upon the bridal pair, and depart.

Gods are by no means the only supernatural beings introduced in the Mahabharata. The divine seer N�rada is frequently introduced thoughnbsp;� For examples see Sidhanta, The Heroic Age of India, p. 17 fF.

he seldom influences the course of events. In i. clxxii, when Arjuna with his brothers is approaching the Ganges by night, on the way to Panc�la,nbsp;he is attacked by Ang�raparna, king of the Gandharva, who resents theirnbsp;disturbing his forest at such a time. Arjuna destroys his chariot, butnbsp;spares his life; and the Gandharva then relates to him several stories ofnbsp;the far past. Apsarasas, or �nymphs�, appear not unfrequently. Innbsp;I. ccxviii Arjuna releases five of them, who had been cursed by anbsp;Brahman and compelled to live in the form of crocodiles. R�kshasa, ornbsp;�demons�, occur still more often. In general they correspond tonbsp;the Norse J�tnar. The R�kshasa killed by Bhima in i. clxv is anbsp;cannibal monster, very much like Grendel. But elsewhere, as innbsp;the story of R�ma, the word may be applied to human beings of aliennbsp;race.

Supernatural birth and parentage is of very frequent occurrence. Reference has already been made to the case of Karna. His mother,nbsp;Kunti, has waited with great diligence upon a Brahman, and is rewardednbsp;by him with a spell, by which she can summon any of the deities. Outnbsp;of curiosity she calls upon S�rya, who immediately appears before hernbsp;and insists upon her receiving his embraces (Mah�bh. iii. cccii ff.). Shenbsp;keeps the birth of her child. Karna, a secret, and sends it adrift in a basketnbsp;on a tributary of the Ganges. The river carries it into the presence of thenbsp;charioteer Adhiratha, who brings it up as his own child. Of the childrennbsp;born by Kunti after her marriage with P�ndu, Yudhishthira is said to benbsp;son of Dharma (personified �Duty�), Bhima of V�yu, the wind-god,nbsp;and Arjuna of Indra, while P�ndu�s children by his other wife, the twinsnbsp;Nakula and Sahadeva, are sons of the A�vins. We have already (p. 475)nbsp;referred to the story of ��ntanu�s marriage with Gang� (the divinenbsp;personification of the Ganges), which is related in i. xcvii ff. Bhishmanbsp;is the son of this marriage. In i. Ixxii �akuntal� is said to be the daughternbsp;of Vi�v�mitra and an Apsaras, named Menak�, who has been sent bynbsp;Indra to tempt him. Even unions with the cannibal R�kshasa are notnbsp;unknown. In i. cvii. 31 ff. Ghatotkaca is born to Bhima by a R�kshasinbsp;named Hidimb�.

It is quite possible that some of these cases do not belong to the earliest strata of the poem. There seems to have been a widespreadnbsp;doctrine among Brahmans that princes (Kshatriya) could not producenbsp;offspring, at least unaided. In the case of P�ndu and his father Vicitra-virya this is expressly stated. The latter�s sons are provided by a Brahman, the former�s by various gods. But we see no reason for doubtingnbsp;the antiquity of the story of Kama�s birth; and some of the others may

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS $25 be quite as old. It will be seen that more or less close parallels to most ofnbsp;them are to be found in the West. In Brahmanic belief, however, atnbsp;least in its later phases, �incarnation� (avat�ra) takes the place of divinenbsp;parentage; and for this we do not know of any satisfactory parallels innbsp;early Western literature,� though examples of metempsychosis, as fromnbsp;one human being to another, are not rare. Even in the Mahabharatanbsp;itself, as we have it, the incarnation of deities is nothing very unusual.nbsp;We may refer (e.g.) to Vidura and the sons of Gang�. But the mostnbsp;notable instance is Krshna, whose divinity is dwelt upon at length verynbsp;frequently, although there are many other passages, in which he seemsnbsp;to be merely a shrewd adviser.

The story of Kama is of special interest as illustrating the growth of mythology. Kama himself, like Krshna, is an incarnation of Vishnu;nbsp;but in this case we meet with the conception in an incipient stage. In thenbsp;R�m�yana it seems to occur only in the later elements (cf. p. 471 f.). Innbsp;the Mah�bh�rata it is found only in iii. ccixxv, which is a preliminarynbsp;rather than an essential part of the story.� Again, the identification ofnbsp;the heroine Sit� with the agricultural goddess or spirit of the same namenbsp;likewise appears to be found only in the later elements of the R�m�yana.3nbsp;It does not occur at all in the Mah�bh�rata, so far as we have observed;nbsp;she seems to be merely human. R�vana�s mythological connections,nbsp;including Kubera�s flying chariot, may be somewhat older, since in thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata they are referred to in the story itself, as well as in thenbsp;preliminary sections (ill. cclxxiii-v). But there is no evidence, so far asnbsp;we are aware, that R�vana existed before�and independently of�thenbsp;story of R�ma. His mythological character, in particular his defiance ofnbsp;the gods, may have been invented in part for the purpose of enhancingnbsp;the glory of the hero. But when the process was started its extensionnbsp;evidently proved an irresistible temptation to the antiquarian mind.nbsp;Even Manthar�, the mischief-making maid of Queen Kaikey�, is an incarnate spirit, specially commissioned for her purpose. To complete thenbsp;unhistorical character of the personnel, we may add that most of the

� Neither do we know of any Western analogies for the birth of Dhrshtadyumna and Draupadi from the sacrificial altar.

� It occurs also in one or two passages in other parts of the Mah�bh�rata, not in connection with the story. We may cite in. xcix, where Kama encounters his namesake Para�u-R�ma, son of Jamadagni.

3 It is remarkable that many scholars who accept the view stated on p. 471 f. as to the earlier and later elements in the R�m�yana yet believe that the heroine Sit� isnbsp;derived from the agricultural being. The literary evidence seems to us to leave nonbsp;room for doubt that the folklore element is secondary.

famous seers of ancient (Vedic) times are introduced�Vasishtha and V�madeva even in the Mah�bh�rata�along with others who seem tonbsp;belong to a later age.

The history of the unhistorical elements in the story would seem to have been, briefly, as follows. In its original form it was apparently anbsp;heroic story of a simple kind, describing the adventures of an exilednbsp;prince and his wife and brother in the forests of southern India. We cannbsp;see nothing unreasonable in the popular view that the R�kshasa and thenbsp;monkeys originally meant respectively the civilised Dravidian communities and the primitive forest peoples. But the use of these termsnbsp;naturally gave a romantic colour to the story, if indeed this was not annbsp;inevitable result of the setting. Then some of the R�kshasa came to benbsp;connected with the demons of mythology, and other mythologicalnbsp;beings.� The form of the story as preserved in the Mahabharata (in.nbsp;cclxxvi If.) and in the earlier portions of the R�m�yana represents thenbsp;beginning of this stage. Next, the chief R�kshasa became regarded asnbsp;incarnations of demons and the hero as the incarnation of the godnbsp;Vishnu. This is the stage represented by the preliminary sections of thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata (iii. cclxxiii-v) and by the later portions of the R�m�yana.nbsp;Lastly, the heroine was identified with the agricultural goddess or spiritnbsp;whose name she bore; but this took place only in the R�m�yana. We arenbsp;not prepared to discuss the case of Hanumat; it is possible of course thatnbsp;he may have been known independently of this story. But even if so thenbsp;cult of R�ma, like that of Krshna, is sufficiently striking testimony tonbsp;the influence of a popular heroic story.�

Natural beings�both men and animals�are sometimes credited with supernatural powers, much as in the West. We may instance the talkingnbsp;swans, which convey messages between Nala and Damayant� (cf.nbsp;p. 469). More peculiar is the case of Karna, who is immortal so long asnbsp;he preserves the armour and earrings, which are really part of his body.nbsp;Ghatotkaca, the son of Bhima and Hidimb�, can produce illusions ofnbsp;various kinds and even rise into the air (vii. clxxvi ff.). But the majoritynbsp;of the cases may perhaps be regarded as examples of exaggeration. Wenbsp;may refer to the speed with which Nala drives Rtuparna�s chariot tonbsp;Vidarbha, and the rapidity with which Rtupama counts the leaves of anbsp;certain tree, during the journey (iii. Ixxii. 7 if.; Nala xx. 7-11). Innbsp;other connections we find exaggeration practically without limit. When

� The procedure is not essentially different from that of the Anglo-Saxon poet who made Grendel a descendant of Cain.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS 527 it is Stated how many warriors fight or fall in a battle the numbers givennbsp;have lost all significance.

In non-heroic stories the possession of supernatural powers is far more frequent and striking. No king, however mighty, has a chance of resisting a great ascetic successfully; and even the gods themselves are atnbsp;his mercy. It is perhaps unnecessary to give further examples. But thenbsp;contrast between heroic and non-heroic stories in this respect is verynbsp;noticeable. In the central story of the Mahabharata, as well as in thenbsp;heroic episodes. Brahmans play only a subordinate part, and hardlynbsp;influence the course of events.

Even when no supernatural beings or properties are involved we hear not unfrequently of events and situations which are quite incredible.nbsp;Such is the case with much of what is said of Bhishma. It is notnbsp;impossible that this old hero may have lived on into the days of thenbsp;grandsons of his younger brother. But he cannot possibly havenbsp;taken part, as an active combatant, in the battle in which Arjuna�snbsp;son Abhimanyu was a doughty warrior. The longevity ascribednbsp;to Brahmans is, as usual, even more extravagant. In i. lx we findnbsp;Vy�sa visiting Janamejaya, who is said to be his great-great-greatgrandson.

There is some reason, as we have seen, for suspecting that the story of Amb� once existed in an independent form. It seems not to have beennbsp;well preserved (cf. p. 476 f.). The general trend of the story leads one tonbsp;expect that Bhishma would lose his life at the hands of �ikhandin; butnbsp;actually we are left in doubt whether he or Arjuna was the slayer. Wenbsp;suspect therefore that this story has been grafted upon that of the battle.nbsp;There can be no question that other extraneous elements are to benbsp;found in the personnel of the latter. We need not consider the Yavananbsp;and other foreigners, who are doubtless late additions, like the Biblicalnbsp;peoples in Widsith. But it is of some interest to note that V�hlika,nbsp;Bhishma�s uncle, is also present. In fact no less than five generations ofnbsp;the same family take part in the battle.

More important is the case of P�ndu. The view has frequently been expressed that the P�ndava were originally not a family but a people�nbsp;a non-Aryan or at least non-Brahmanic people, who practised polyandry,nbsp;like some of the backward hill-tribes at the present day. But we knownbsp;of no evidence for a people called P�ndava; and the battle, so far as itnbsp;can be regarded as a national war in any sense, is between the Kuru onnbsp;the one side and the Panc�la and the Matsya on the other�thoughnbsp;both parties have numerous allies. The P�ndava are merely exiled

princes of the Kuru, whose cause has been taken up by the Panc�la and the Matsya. The polyandrous marriage, however, is certainly remarkable; for it is quite alien to anything which can properly be callednbsp;Hindusim, and the poets were evidently at a loss how to account fornbsp;it. So far as we are aware it can be explained only as a custom takennbsp;over from the (non-Aryan) natives of the country, or as having arisennbsp;under special conditions, probably as a result of conquest.^

The fact that there is no trace of any such form of marriage in Dhrtar�shtra�s family suggests that in the original form of the storynbsp;this king and P�ndu were not brothers. Further, the introduction ofnbsp;Vy�sa into the story makes it likely enough that considerable changesnbsp;have taken place in the part relating to the earlier generations, thoughnbsp;we are not prepared to attempt any reconstruction. It is an essentialnbsp;feature of the story that the P�ndava have been deprived of their inheritance by the sons of Dhrtar�shtra. But it does not seem to us essential that the two families should be closely related.

There are a few facts which, so far as they go, rather tend to support the view that in the original story the P�ndava were a family of nativenbsp;or mixed stock. They are born far away in the mountains, to which theirnbsp;father has retired; and it is not until after his death that their existence isnbsp;known. Later, they build their capital, Indraprastha, in a forest nearnbsp;the Jumna; and this is the part of the kingdom which they demand backnbsp;on the eve of the battle. The story of Satyavati would seem to show thatnbsp;this region was still largely non-Aryan. But without going into particulars, if the chronology adopted on p. 514 f. is correct, the Aryanisationnbsp;of the whole of the Jumna and Ganges basins must have been comparatively recent in the times to which our story relates; and it is reasonablenbsp;to expect that many native or half-native communities survived.

� The importance attached to Draupadi in the story is not to be overlooked. It is through their marriage with her and the influence of her powerful relatives that thenbsp;heroes first attain their sovereignty. And in the last battle the army is commanded bynbsp;Dhrshtadyumna, not Arjuna.

� Cf. the reference to the ancient Britons on p. 519, note. The two explanations do not perhaps necessarily exclude one another.

IN poetry relating to deities the same Types are represented as in the West; but the distribution is very different. Type D is representednbsp;by a very large number of hymns, especially in the Rgveda. Onnbsp;the other hand narrative does not occur in the Vedas, apart from shortnbsp;incidental passages in the hymns. There is a little narrative saga in thenbsp;Br�hmanas, but it is of the didactic type (CA). The Mahabharata contains a good deal of narrative poetry, and some of it may perhaps benbsp;regarded as belonging to Type A; but here also CA seems to be morenbsp;frequent. Type B is represented by a few poems in the Rgveda.

We will first take the hymns (Type D) preserved in the Rgveda. They are addressed to a considerable number of deities. The largest numbernbsp;(c. 250) is claimed by Indra. Next comes Agni with c. 200, then Somanbsp;with c. 120, then the A�vins with c. 50. Various deities have smallernbsp;numbers of hymns addressed to them. Sometimes more than one deitynbsp;is invoked in a hymn, while a good number are addressed to all the godsnbsp;collectively.

The hymns have little in common with the Homeric Hymns or with the theological poems of the Edda. In general they may be said tonbsp;contain two main elements�(a) the description or celebration of thenbsp;properties and might of the deity, (Jj) appeals for the welfare of the poetnbsp;and his patrons, or perhaps all those who are taking part in the worship.nbsp;The narrative element is insignificant. As might be expected, there is anbsp;good deal of repetition, both of formulae and of ideas. Each deity isnbsp;credited with certain characteristic attributes and functions, as in thenbsp;West; but they are by no means always clearly distinguished. Muchnbsp;difficulty is caused by the traditional and highly figurative diction whichnbsp;is constantly employed. To the modern mind it often seems as unnaturalnbsp;and meaningless as the kennings in Norse Skaldic poetry.

In hymns to Indra the following are perhaps the most constant and characteristic elements : (i) celebration of the god�s prowess in slayingnbsp;demons and in releasing the waters; (ii) the god�s love of soma, whichnbsp;strengthens him for his exploits; (iii) appeals for victory and wealth,nbsp;especially perhaps cattle and other booty. To the student of Westernnbsp;religion this combination of (i) and (iii) is unfamiliar. It is clear thatnbsp;Indra was at one time a thunder-god, as Zeus and Thor originally were.

The fights with demons are common to all three ; but in parched lands like the earlier homes of the Aryans^ the �release of the waters� is a matter ofnbsp;more moment than in Europe. The other element, however, is notnbsp;specially characteristic of Zeus, while in the North it belongs definitelynbsp;to Othin, not Thor. Indra, like Othin, is the god of the warrior princenbsp;and the giver of victory. But the most peculiar feature of the hymns isnbsp;that these two elements seem to be inextricably combined. Numerousnbsp;passages make it clear that the dominating thoughts in the minds of thenbsp;poets were those of victory and booty, usually at the expense of thenbsp;natives. Indra is pictured as an Aryan prince driving to battle in hisnbsp;chariot and overthrowing the castles of the D�sa. But this picture isnbsp;commonly amalgamated and confused with the conventional descriptionnbsp;of Indra smiting the demons; and, owing to the traditional imagery employed by the poets, it is not easy to distinguish between the � release of thenbsp;waters � and a cattle-raid. In general, however, even when they are callingnbsp;upon the god to smite Vrtra, it is to be suspected that the practical objectnbsp;which they have in view is to get him to smite their human enemies.

Agni differs greatly from Indra; he is by no means completely an-thropomorphised. The hymns addressed to him are usually of a descriptive character; for the name means �fire�, and the poets seem as anbsp;rule to have had a real fire in their minds. He is described as goldennbsp;and blazing. The two fire-sticks are his mothers, whom he is said to eat;nbsp;wood is his regular food. He is frequently said to be a priest and anbsp;messenger to the gods. Such terms as �lord of the house� are alsonbsp;frequently applied to him. In all this the language of the hymns is notnbsp;so very far removed from that of spells. But numerous passages alsonbsp;show the figurative diction to which we have referred above. Thus he isnbsp;described as a bull, a horse, a bird, and as driving in a chariot; and hisnbsp;functions are not clearly distinguished from those of the other gods. Onnbsp;the whole, however�in contrast with Indra�he is more often appealednbsp;to for domestic welfare and offspring than for success in war.

Soma is the deity celebrated in all the hymns of Book ix and in a few other hymns. He is the personification of the intoxicating soma plant,nbsp;and his anthropomorphisation is no more advanced than that of the firegod. Indeed his hymns resemble spells even more than do those whichnbsp;are addressed to Agni. Many of them seem to be designed for singingnbsp;while the juice is being extracted from the stalks and passed through

� At least the myth of the slaying of Vrtra must date from times before the Indian Aryans left Iran, for the name J^eretkraghna (J^rtrahan) occurs in the Avesta.nbsp;Its origin cannot therefore be derived from Indian phenomena.

strainers. Much of what is said of Soma and his exhilarating powers has analogies in the Norse myth of �Srerir, the mead of poetry (cf. Vol. i,nbsp;pp. 249, 620), though the latter is not personified. Soma is �lord ofnbsp;speech� and a poet, seer and sage. But he also gives physical strength,nbsp;especially to Indra, and immortality. Apart from these special featuresnbsp;he is often invoked for prosperity in general, like the rest of the gods.nbsp;And the same obscure figurative diction is applied to him as to the rest;nbsp;he is described as a bull, a horse, a chariot-rider, etc. In later literaturenbsp;he is generally identified with the moon, and most scholars believe thatnbsp;the beginnings of this remarkable idea are to be traced in some of thenbsp;latest hymns in the Rgveda itself.

The A�vins {A�vina), or �(pair of) Horsemen��without notion of riding�belong to mythology of the more personal kind, like Indra.nbsp;They are represented as young men, twins, driving in a chariot, whichnbsp;in the obscure diction of the hymns is often said to be drawn by birds,nbsp;though this cannot be the original idea. They are celebrated chiefly asnbsp;healers and deliverers from danger; and many hymns contain cataloguesnbsp;of the cures and rescues effected by them. Honey seems to be speciallynbsp;connected with their worship.

Among the deities who figure less prominently we may mention Ushas, or �Dawn�, who has about twenty hymns devoted to her. Herenbsp;again the personification is only slight; the hymns are largely occupiednbsp;with descriptions of the natural phenomena of dawn. As in the Homericnbsp;poems, she has her chariot and horses; but in the Rgveda she is an objectnbsp;of worship. She is invoked for protection, wealth and offspring.

Female deities receive very little attention in the Rgveda. Indeed there seem to be no truly mythological goddesses. Apart from the hymnsnbsp;just mentioned, there is one to R�tr� or �Night� (x. 127), which isnbsp;perhaps more a descriptive poem than a hymn. Earth (JPrthivi) isnbsp;addressed in one short hymn (v. 84), as well as in several others in whichnbsp;she is associated with Heaven �Dyaus'). More important is Sarasvati, thenbsp;goddess of a river identified in later times with the Ghaggar, which losesnbsp;itself in the Indian Desert. She is addressed in three hymns, in whichnbsp;she is besought to grant wealth and offspring. In later literature she isnbsp;the wife of Brahma and goddess of eloquence and wisdom.

Type B is represented by a few poems which consist exclusively of speeches in character�monologues or dialogues. There are also a fewnbsp;similar poems which appear to have a didactic purpose, and thereforenbsp;properly belong to Type C (CB); but the two series may conveniently

be taken together. Nearly all these poems are contained in Book x, and therefore probably date from towards the close of the Rgveda period.

We will take the monologues first. In x. 119 the speaker, apparently Indra, expresses the exhilaration he has received from offerings of soma.nbsp;He has grown too big for heaven and earth, and is ready to smite thenbsp;earth in his frenzy. Each stanza contains the refrain �Have I not drunknbsp;of soma.^� In x. 48 and 49 the same god recounts the mighty deedsnbsp;which he has performed. These consist in the main of successes whichnbsp;he has won for the Aryan peoples and individual Aryan heroes at thenbsp;expense of the Dasyu. The first part of x. irj seems to belong to thenbsp;same series. Indra speaks in general terms of his exploits, though twonbsp;stanzas apparently are addressed to him by the poet. But the latter partnbsp;of the poem, from st. ii, seems to be a collection of riddles. Here alsonbsp;we may perhaps mention x. 125, in which a feminine being describes hernbsp;qualities, much after the style of a riddle. The traditional interpretationnbsp;is �Speech� (personified); and this may be correct, though the sensenbsp;seems at times rather to suggest an identification with �Breath�, ornbsp;perhaps the spirit of life.

The dialogue poems show more variety. We may take first x. 10, in which the speakers are the twin deities Yama and Yam�. The latternbsp;appeals to her brother repeatedly to indulge in love with her. Yamanbsp;rejects her advances, sometimes with persuasion, sometimes in anger,nbsp;speaking of her as wanton and her proposal as sinful. This poemnbsp;perhaps belongs to Type C (CB). Yama is not exactly the god of deathnbsp;in the Rgveda, but rather the leader of the �Fathers� (ancestors) and,nbsp;consequently, king of the dead. He and his sister are the first mortals,nbsp;and progenitors of the human race.

A more certain example of the didactic type is to be found in x. 51, where the speakers are Varuna and Agni. The latter has been discoverednbsp;hiding in the waters, in order to escape being used in sacrifices. Henbsp;consents to being used on condition that the first oblations shall benbsp;granted to him. Other dialogue poems, however, resemble the monologues more closely. Thus in iv. 42 Varuna describes himself as ruler ofnbsp;the gods and establisher of law. Indra in reply boasts of his prowess asnbsp;god of battle.' More peculiar is x. 108, a dialogue between Saram�,nbsp;Indra�s hound, and the Pani,� whose cattle she has traced. She threatens

' The relationship of the last three (historical) stanzas to the dialogue in this poem is not clear to us.

� This name �Pan�) seems to be applied sometimes to the D�sa (Dasyii), sometimes to malignant (niggardly) supernatural beings.

them with destruction from Indra, and demands that they shall give up their cattle. They refuse at first ; and then try, without success, to persuadenbsp;her to join them.

Some of these poems are probably to be taken as representing the lighter side of Vedic poetry. The same may be true of another poem,nbsp;X. 86, which consists of a dialogue between Indra, his wife, and a thirdnbsp;person called Vrsh�kapi (�Male Ape�). The lady is very angry withnbsp;Vrsh�kapi, who seems to have damaged some of her belongings, andnbsp;Indra is trying to make peace between them. Each stanza has a refrainnbsp;expressing Indra�s supremacy. The poem is now interpreted as a dispute over the misdoings of a tame monkey, but intended as a satire uponnbsp;some contemporary prince, who is described as Indra. But it is far fromnbsp;clear; and the same may be said of one or two other poems (e.g. x. 28),nbsp;which seem to belong to Type B.

It is only in poems of this type that one gets any pictures of the gods in relation to one another. In the hymns pairs and groups of deities arenbsp;frequently associated ; and we hear (e.g.) that the Maruts are children ofnbsp;Rudra and the A�vins of Dyaus, and that Vishnu helped Indra in thenbsp;fray with Vrtra. So in the Wedding Hymn (x. 85) we find a large numbernbsp;of deities mentioned, though the treatment is mystical. But pictures ofnbsp;the social life of the divine community, such as one meets with in thenbsp;Thrymskviba, the Hision of Aengus and the Hymn to Hermes, seem to benbsp;entirely wanting. This is doubtless due in the main to the total absence ofnbsp;Type �. But the fact that some of the deities, e.g. Agni and Soma, arenbsp;only to a slight extent anthropomorphised is also to be taken into account.nbsp;Truly anthropomorphic goddesses are hardly to be found.

In the Mahabharata references to deities are extremely frequent. Often they are introduced into the action; often too the scene is laid in thenbsp;divine world. Here we shall have to confine our attention to a few cases,nbsp;which will be taken chiefly from narratives (Types A and CA).

The different parts of the Mah�bh�rata vary greatly in the divine personnel which they introduce. In stories or passages which are purelynbsp;heroic we meet with the same gods as in the Rgveda. An instance may benbsp;found in the story of Nala (ii-v ; Mah�bh. iii. liv if.), where the gods Indra,nbsp;Agni, Varuna and Yama make their way to Damayanti�s svayamvara.nbsp;Their behaviour is somewhat irresponsible, but not malevolent; andnbsp;the treatment of the episode shows an attitude towards them closelynbsp;analogous to what is found in various Greek and Norse stories of deities.nbsp;Indra is described as �king of the gods� {devar�ja}. Elsewhere in the

same story we hear of other Vedic deities, e.g. V�yu, the Maruts {Rudras} and the A�vins, as well as of some deities who are not mentioned in thenbsp;Rgveda; but there is apparently no reference to Brahma, Vishnu or �iva.

The story of Nala is by no means peculiar in its treatment of the gods. Thus in the story of S�vitri (iii. ccxcvi) Yama, the god of the dead,nbsp;proves to be not inexorable to the persuasions of the heroine. And in thenbsp;main story S�rya, the Sun-god, when invoked by Kunti (iii. cccv f.)nbsp;eagerly demands her embraces. A parallel to the spiteful treatment ofnbsp;heroes by deities in the Iliad is to be found in iii. cccix, where Indra visitsnbsp;Karna, disguised as a Brahman, and begs from him the armour and earrings which make him invulnerable. S�rya has warned Karna (his son)nbsp;beforehand of Indra�s intentions {jb. ccxcix If.) and advised him to begnbsp;for an infallible weapon in exchange for what he gives up. We may notenbsp;also that when Kunti uses her spell on behalf of P�ndu (i. cxxii If.)�anbsp;story which is not of purely heroic character�the deities whom she invokes are the Vedic gods V�yu, Indra and the A�vins, as well as thenbsp;later (abstract) deity Dharma (�Duty�). It will be observed that thenbsp;deities who figure in the stories are almost always male, just as in thenbsp;Rgveda. Savitri�s appearance in iii. ccxcii is a rare exception.

But in the purely Brahmanic portions of the Mahabharata the case is quite different. Here the supreme deity is Brahma, who is frequentlynbsp;introduced and sometimes speaks at length. Vishnu also, who is onlynbsp;a minor deity in the Rgveda, is here regarded with the greatest reverence,nbsp;especially in connection with his incarnations. In iii. cclxxv he is bornnbsp;as R�ma, in order to free the celestials from molestation by R�vana.nbsp;And very many passages, all doubtless of Brahmanic origin, speak of hisnbsp;incarnation in Krshna. Rudra too, likewise a minor deity in the Rgveda,nbsp;is of hardly less importance here. He is now generally known as �ivanbsp;(�friendly�) or Mah�deva (�great god�); and when he comes upon thenbsp;scene, he seems to be omnipotent. It may be observed that he appearsnbsp;twice in the story of Amb� and �ikhandin, which seems to us to havenbsp;heroic features.

The attitude of the Brahmanic elements towards Indra is sometimes hostile and even contemptuous. In i. cxcix Vy�sa relates a story�hownbsp;Indra met with �iva and was treated by him with the utmost disdain.nbsp;At a look from him he is paralysed and reduced to abject terror. Then,nbsp;for his presumption, he is made to open up a cave, where he finds fournbsp;other Indras, just like himself, imprisoned. They have all five to becomenbsp;incarnate at �iva�s orders. The story is told in justification of Draupadi�snbsp;marriage.

Still more remarkable is the version of the slaying of Vrtra as related by �alya in v. ix f. The god Tvashtr has a three-headed son, who devotesnbsp;himself to asceticism to such an extent that Indra becomes afraid that henbsp;will displace him. He sends nymphs therefore to tempt him; and whennbsp;this fails, he kills him with the thunderbolt. Tvashtr in revenge for hisnbsp;son�s death creates Vrtra, who fights with Indra. The latter is repeatedlynbsp;worsted in the most ignominious ways, but contrives to escape. Thenbsp;deities and the seers in heaven now become much alarmed and appealnbsp;for help to Vishnu, who advises them to make peace between Indra andnbsp;Vrtra, though he intends to give victory to the former. Vrtra stipulatesnbsp;that he shall not be assailed by Indra in a list of ways which seems to benbsp;exhaustive�as in the story of Balder�but eventually Indra, by thenbsp;help of Vishnu, contrives to slay him with his thunderbolt concealed innbsp;a mass of sea-foam. But now Indra is seized with dread at the thoughtnbsp;of having killed a Brahman, and hides himself; and the gods appointnbsp;Nahusha to be their king for a time in his place.

It is not clear to us here whether the slain Brahman is Vrtra or the three-headed being. But there are many other references to the story.nbsp;In XII. cclxxix If. it is told at length again by Bhishma, with considerablenbsp;variations. No mention is made of Tvashtr or his son; but Vrtra has longnbsp;devoted himself to asceticism. Indra is assisted by both Vishnu andnbsp;�iva; but the sympathy is again with Vrtra rather than with him. Whennbsp;Vrtra is slain the �Sin of Brahmanicide� (personified) comes from hisnbsp;body and seizes upon Indra.

It is generally believed that the fight between Indra and Vrtra is a primitive story of a contest between the thunder-god and a demon; and,nbsp;so far as we are aware, the Rgveda contains nothing incompatible withnbsp;such an interpretation. At all events the story seems to date from a timenbsp;before the Aryans entered India (cf. p. 530). There seems to be no tracenbsp;of sympathy with Vrtra in the Rgveda; and the same is true of thenbsp;reference to the slaying of Vi�var�pa son of Tvashtr in Rgv. x. 8.�nbsp;The transformation of the story therefore, as seen in the above accounts,nbsp;strikes the modern mind as absurd and childish. But it can hardly be duenbsp;to late additions to the Mah�bh�rata; for something very much like thenbsp;first account must have been known to the authors of the Aitareyanbsp;Br�hmana. It is there stated (vii. 28) that Indra had been deprived ofnbsp;the soma-drinking because he had misused Vi�var�pa, son of Tvashtr,

� There seems to be no indication th^ Vi�var�pa is connected with Vrtra, though both are robbed of their cattle. Trita Aptya is associated with Indra in the formernbsp;exploit.

and laid low Vrtra�together with various other offences. The change of feeling therefore can be traced back to very early times.

This change of feeling can hardly be interpreted as a religious revolution like that of the Avesta, where Indra has become a demon. He is still regarded as the king of the gods, not only in heroic stories, but alsonbsp;in the Brahmanic parts of the Mahabharata, though here the real powernbsp;lies with Vishnu or �iva. But it is plain from the passage in the Aitareyanbsp;Br�hmana just referred to, as well as from many passages in the epic,nbsp;that Indra is viewed as the representative of the kingly power and thenbsp;Kshatriya caste. The Brahman tolerates both the Kshatriya and hisnbsp;deity, but claims to be superior to them both. It may be observed thatnbsp;the population of heaven now includes seers, as well as gods, and thenbsp;former are the more important.

Apart from deities we hear also a good deal of other supernatural beings, especially in the Mah�bh�rata. Among these we may note firstnbsp;the Gandharva, who are mentioned in the Rgveda, though not frequently,nbsp;except in Book x. They seem to be guardians of the soma. Sometimesnbsp;only one Gandharva is spoken of; sometimes the plural is used. In thenbsp;former case we find also the name Vi�v�vasu (x. 85, 139). In the Athar-vaveda, ii. 2, the Gandharva is invoked with the highest praises. In thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata we hear more of these beings. In xii. cccxix Vi�v�vasu,nbsp;who is here called king of the Gandharva, consults Y�jnavalkya uponnbsp;his philosophy. But a much fuller account is given in i. clxxii ff. ofnbsp;Ang�raparna, who is also called king of the Gandharva. He is enraged atnbsp;the heroes� intrusion in his forests and attacks them; but Arjuna overthrows him and burns his chariot. He spares his life, however, and thenbsp;Gandharva then relates to him a number of stories of the past.

Apsarasas or nymphs are not often mentioned in the Rgveda. On two occasions the reference is to Urva��. In vii. 33 she is said to havenbsp;borne Vasishtha to Varuna and Mitra. Another poem, x. 95, consists of anbsp;dialogue (Type B) between the same nymph and the patriarch Pur�ra-vas, son (grandson) of Manu. The poem is obscure; but later accountsnbsp;of the story show that it is concerned with a rather widespread motif�nbsp;that of a man who has married a supernatural being upon some condition which he has subsequently broken.^ In the poem Pur�ravas begsnbsp;Urva�� to return to him; but she only promises to send to him the childnbsp;which she will bear. In the Atharvaveda, ii. 2, Apsarasas seem to be thenbsp;wives of the Gandharva. Like the latter they are invoked for success at

dice. In the Mahabharata they figure rather frequently; and they are represented as sportive and amorous. In iii. xlv f., at the instigation ofnbsp;Indra, Urva�� sets out to try the effect of her charms upon Arjuna, butnbsp;receives a rebuff from him. On other occasions Apsarasas are sent bynbsp;the deities to tempt seers of whom they are afraid, in order to divertnbsp;them from their asceticism. Thus in i. Ixxi f. the Apsaras Menak� is sentnbsp;by Indra to Vi�v�mitra. The child �akuntal�,� who is bom from them,nbsp;is deserted by her mother as soon as she is born. Here also we may refernbsp;to the Apsaras Barg�, who was turned into a crocodile with her fournbsp;companions (i. ccxviii f.) by a seer whom they had tempted andnbsp;mocked.

Among other supernatural beings we may refer in passing to the Yaksha who in v. cxciii f. exchanges sex with �ikhandin. Somethingnbsp;more, however, must be said about the two �divine seers� N�rada andnbsp;Parvata. They seem to be unknown to the Rgveda, though they arenbsp;mentioned fairly often in the Br�hmanas. In the Mah�bh�rata they arenbsp;introduced very frequently, especially N�rada, both in the main storynbsp;and in episodes. As a mle they are not distinguishable from humannbsp;seers; but sometimes they carry news from the world to the gods. Thenbsp;chief story relating to them occurs in two variant forms, in vii. Iv andnbsp;XII. XXX. According to the latter, which seems to be the better version,nbsp;N�rada and Parvata, who were uncle and nephew, set out on one of theirnbsp;visits to the earth, and made a compact that neither of the two shouldnbsp;keep anything secret from the other. But when they visit a king namednbsp;Smjaya, N�rada falls in love with his daughter and conceals the factnbsp;from his nephew. The latter, however, finds out what has happened andnbsp;is deeply angered. He curses his uncle, making him to have the face of anbsp;monkey. N�rada in return curses Parvata, declaring that he shall notnbsp;get back to heaven. Eventually the two seers make up their quarrel;nbsp;Parvata returns to heaven, while N�rada receives back his own face andnbsp;stays with his father-in-law. It should perhaps be mentioned that thisnbsp;incident is only a part of the story of the seers� visit to Srnjaya. Anothernbsp;incident will require notice in a later chapter.

For a comparison of early Indian and European poetry of this category we are practically dependent upon the Mah�bh�rata; for the early hymn poetry which has been preserved in the West hardly presents anbsp;sufficient amount of material. It may, however, be observed that somenbsp;of the most important gods are only partially anthropomorphised andnbsp;� In �at. Br. xiii. 5.4. 13 she is herself described as an Apsaras.

538 that little account is taken of (anthropomorphic) goddesses. We maynbsp;also note the growth of priestly gods, who in the subsequent (Br�hmana)nbsp;period become all-important.

In the Mah�bh�rata we have to distinguish between the heroic and the non-heroic elements. In the former the treatment of deities is in generalnbsp;similar to what is found in heroic stories and stories of the gods innbsp;Europe. Yet here again goddesses are seldom prominent�a fact whichnbsp;is the more remarkable owing to the prominent part usually played bynbsp;women in Indian heroic stories. The Apsarasas may be compared withnbsp;the youthful supernatural females of Europe�nymphs, Valkyries, Vile,nbsp;etc.�but unlike the latter they seem to have no endowments or distinctive characteristics other than physical beauty. In the non-heroicnbsp;parts of the Mah�bh�rata the representation of the gods has in generalnbsp;little in common with what is found in the European records which havenbsp;come under our notice.

It is a characteristic of the non-heroic parts of the work that the distinction between human and divine beings tends to be obliterated. We have spoken of N�rada and Parvata as divine beings; but they are oftennbsp;introduced as if they were merely human seers, and this may have beennbsp;their original character. Even more striking examples of such ambiguitynbsp;are to be found in other seers, especially Ka�yapa, who is mentionednbsp;once in the Rgveda (ix. 114). Sometimes in the Mah�bh�rata (e.g.nbsp;I. xlii f.) he seems to be a (human) Brahman; but elsewhere (e.g. i. Ixv f.)nbsp;he belongs to the world of myth and is the ancestor of various mythicalnbsp;beings. Much the same is said of Pulastya and others. Such ambiguitiesnbsp;are presumably to be connected with the claims put forward by thenbsp;Brahmans to equality with the gods.

There is no satisfactory evidence for any ambiguity of this kind in heroic poetry or tradition. We do indeed find N�rada and Parvatanbsp;carrying news from mankind to the gods (iii. liv); but such passagesnbsp;doubtless represent merely the current beliefs or poetic conventions ofnbsp;the day. Heroic poetry seems to have been little concerned with seers.nbsp;But we cannot admit the truth of a theory which found much favournbsp;among scholars of last century, that heroes themselves were by originnbsp;�hypostases� of deities. This theory was applied to all early literatures;nbsp;but we have never yet found an example which was satisfactorily substantiated.� In regard to India the case to which most importance has been

� It may happen, of course, that the name of a deity which has lost all its associations and attributes may eventually come to be regarded as that of a man�perhaps a kingnbsp;of the past. Lludd Llaweraint is a likely instance. But this is not what was meant bynbsp;the theory noticed here.

attached is that of Arjuna, who is held to have been originally a hypostasis of Indra. Even in quite recent works this theory seems to be rather widely accepted. Yet there is nothing in the Mahabharata tonbsp;suggest that Arjuna was regarded as other than a man, though he is anbsp;son of Indra. In Indian, just as in European, heroic tradition a hero maynbsp;be the son of a deity and may associate with deities�in which case henbsp;may be credited with fantastic experiences. In Brahmanic doctrine henbsp;may be the avatar of a deity. But the theory to which we are alluding�nbsp;that a deity can come to be misinterpreted as a hero�is foreign to bothnbsp;heroic and Brahmanic ideas. In this case it is founded, we believe, morenbsp;upon the hero�s name than upon his exploits and experiences. Yet thenbsp;same name is borne by another hero, who is referred to fairly often innbsp;the Mahabharata�Arjuna K�rtavirya, a prince of the Haihaya butnbsp;described as a tyrant and monster.

It may be suspected that in one respect heroic tradition did not clearly distinguish between human and supernatural beings, viz. in reference tonbsp;the non-Aryan population. The word R�kshasa in the Rgveda seemsnbsp;originally to have denoted a monster� of superhuman strength andnbsp;ferocity, like the Norse j�tunn', but in the Mahabharata, though thisnbsp;meaning is often found, there are many passages where the term isnbsp;apparently applied to human beings of alien race. We may note innbsp;particular the story of R�ma�where this usage occurs also regularlynbsp;in the R�m�yana�and various incidents in which Ghatotkaca figures,nbsp;especially his conflicts with other R�kshasa. With them may be mentioned the Yaksha, who are perhaps the spirits or deities of the indigenousnbsp;population, rather than the people themselves. The god Kubera seemsnbsp;to belong to both classes. Into these questions we cannot enter; butnbsp;we would note that the identification or confusion of alien peoples withnbsp;demons is probably by no means peculiar to India.

* This is due especially to an obscure passage in �at. Br. v. 4. 3. 7, where in a description of the R�jas�ya sacrifice it is stated that the king mounts his chariotnbsp;saying: �I, the inviolate Arjuna (mount) thee.� The text goes on to explain thatnbsp;�Indra is called Arjuna, which is his secret name.� The king then is supposed to benbsp;personating Indra. One text in place of Arjuna has Phalguna, a name which is oftennbsp;applied to the hero Arjuna in the Mahabharata. One may perhaps be tempted tonbsp;suspect that the king�s words were originally a reminiscence of the hero, whichnbsp;later came to be misunderstood. But in any case the passage can hardly be held tonbsp;prove the identity of the hero and the god, any more than the expression �Zeusnbsp;Agamemnon� can prove that Agamemnon was originally identical with Zeus.

� It is clearly a derivative of raksas, �demon�, a word frequently used in the Rgveda, especially for nocturnal demons.

Most of the works with which we have been dealing contain antiquarian elements. In the Mahabharata they are very large.nbsp;But in addition to these we have to take account here of thenbsp;Pur�nas, a series of works which are primarily of antiquarian interest.nbsp;The word pur�na seems properly to mean no more than �ancientnbsp;story�; but in practice it has come to denote a collection of antiquariannbsp;lore.

The Pur�nas, which are eighteen in number, claim to deal with a common series of subjects, as follows U (i) the origin of the universe;nbsp;(ii) the reconstitution of the universe after its dissolution at the end ofnbsp;each aeon �kalpa)', (iii) the genealogies of gods and seers; (iv) thenbsp;Manvantara or periods (within the aeon) in which mankind is producednbsp;anew from a progenitor called Manu; (v) the history of the royal familiesnbsp;reigning during the four ages (^yuga) contained in a �great age�nbsp;(ynahayuga), which is itself a fraction of a Manvantara. But this schemenbsp;is merely traditional; it is not strictly adhered to in any of the existingnbsp;Pur�nas. All of them show omissions; thus (e.g.) Sect, v is preservednbsp;in only seven Pur�nas. All of them also contain much extraneous matternbsp;of a didactic character.

The setting or framework is also traditional, and very similar to that of the Mah�bh�rata. Here again the author is Vy�sa, who has receivednbsp;his knowledge from Brahm�. The speaker is usually either Loma-harshana (the S�ta) or his son Ugra�ravas (known as Sauti), to whom thenbsp;Pur�na has been imparted by one of Vy�sa�s disciples. The scene isnbsp;generally laid at the court of King Adhisimakrshna, great-grandson ofnbsp;Janamejaya; but in the Vishnu Pur�na it is at that of Parikshit, Jana-mejaya�s father. The history of the kings in Sect, v is continued�innbsp;three dynasties only�down to very much later times. But after thenbsp;reign of Adhisimakrshna it is expressed in the future, i.e. as prophecy,nbsp;whereas the past is regularly used for the earlier kings.

It is now generally recognised that the Pur�nas have had a very long history, reaching back to a remote antiquity. But they have been added

� For further information on this subject see Rapson, Cambridge History of India, I. 296 f. For an account of the contents of the various Pur�nas cf. Wintemitz,nbsp;Gesch. d. ind. Litteratur, i. 450 ff.

to and transformed to such an extent that the history is difficult, if not impossible, to unravel. In their present form they seem to date from anbsp;period several centuries after the beginning of our era. Their historynbsp;therefore is perhaps as long and complicated as that of the Mahabharata.nbsp;In point of fact the latter contains a very large amount of similar matter,^nbsp;though here it is re-cast and grouped round the central theme, which is anbsp;heroic story. As the Mahabharata is more generally accessible,� we shallnbsp;refer to it, where possible, in preference to the Pur�nas.

It will be convenient to adopt the same classification of the material as in Vol. i (p. 270 ff.).

I. Genealogies form an important element in the Pur�nas. The genealogies of the kings contained in Sect, v are of immense length,nbsp;extending from Manu, the first man, down to the great battle of thenbsp;Mahabharata. Most of the kingdoms of northern India seem to benbsp;represented. In three cases�the kingdoms of the P�ru (Kuru),nbsp;Ayodhya and Magadha�the genealogy is continued down to about thenbsp;fourth century (b.c.), in Magadha until much later times. It wouldnbsp;perhaps be more correct, at least in the later period, to speak of lists ofnbsp;kings; for they seem not to be genealogies in the strict sense.

The later stages of these three lists are probably derived in the main from genuine historical tradition, though they demonstrably containnbsp;some serious mistakes.3 Then come in each line a considerable number ofnbsp;names which apparently we have no means of testing. Beyond these,nbsp;the generations immediately following the battle of the Mahabharatanbsp;contain a number of names which are known from the Br�hmanas andnbsp;Upanishads. For the period of the battle itself and (in some cases)nbsp;a few generations earlier we have the evidence of heroic poetry, preserved in the Mah�bh�rata. Still further back the genealogies contain anbsp;good many names which occur in the Rgveda; but it is frequentlynbsp;difficult to reconcile the genealogies with the Vedic evidence. A remarkable fact is that the longest genealogies are those of the easternnbsp;kingdoms, such as Ayodhya and Videha. There is no evidence that thesenbsp;regions were Aryanised in the Rgveda period, i.e. until a very few

� Cf. I. i. 63 ff. Sometimes (e.g. I. i. 85) the Mah�bh�rata itself is called a Pur�na. The Harivam�a, which is preserved as a kind of appendix to the Mah�bh�rata, isnbsp;generally regarded as a Pur�na, though it is not included in the eighteen.

� Only a few of the Pur�nas seem to have been translated: the Vishnu P. by Wilson, the Markandeya P. by Pargiter, the Bh�gavata P. by Bumouf (French), thenbsp;Harivam�a by Langlois (French).

generations before the battle; yet the genealogy of Ayodhya gives about ninety generations from Manu to the battle, as against about forty-fivenbsp;for that of Panc�la (North Panc�la) during the same period.

The details are hardly less surprising. Nala son of Nishadha occurs about twenty generations before the battle. This can hardly be anyonenbsp;else than the Nala Naishadha (i.e. Nala of Nishadha) of the heroic story,nbsp;whose home was far from Ayodhya, though he visited it. His employernbsp;at Ayodhya, King Rtuparna, is placed nearly twenty generations earliernbsp;still. Again, Trasadasyu and his father Purukutsa are known from thenbsp;Rgveda to have been contemporaries of Sud�s. But in the Puranicnbsp;genealogy of Ayodhya they appear about seventy generations before thenbsp;battle, whereas in that of Panc�la Sudas (Sud�sa) is only five generationsnbsp;before Drupada. Lastly, it may be observed that the legend of �unah-�epa (cf. p. 496) is located at Ayodhya and brought into connectionnbsp;with certain names�six or seven generations below Trasadasyu�nbsp;which look like corrupt forms of names mentioned in Rgv. v. 27. Itnbsp;would seem that names and stories have been drawn into this genealogynbsp;from every side. At all events we cannot doubt that the Puranic genealogies have cultivated antiquarian speculation on the most extravagantnbsp;scale.�

The Mah�bh�rata also contains genealogies. In i. xciv f. there are two very long genealogies of the Kuru, which vary greatly from onenbsp;another, and still more from the corresponding genealogy in thenbsp;Pur�nas; but elements common to all three are not wanting. Thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata apparently does not give a genealogy of the Panc�la; butnbsp;it contains a number of references to their past kings which, so far asnbsp;they go, are compatible with the Pur�nas. As some of the names arenbsp;certified by the Rgveda, we may believe that this genealogy preservesnbsp;elements of genuine tradition for some little way beyond the battle of thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata, though the connecting links are open to doubt. Unfortunately neither the Vedas nor the Br�hmanas contain royalnbsp;genealogies.

� Genealogies� are of frequent occurrence in the Upanishads; but they are genealogies of doctrine or information, not of flesh and blood (cf.nbsp;p. 503). They are often of great length�sometimes more than fiftynbsp;�generations�. Usually they lead up to a divine being.

� For the contrary view see Pargiter, Ancient Indian Historical Tradition (passim), where the historical value of the lists is maintained with great learning. For thenbsp;collection and presentation of the material this work is invaluable.

The Br�hmanas sometimes preserve lists of kings who were generous sacrificers and patrons of learning. Instances may be found in Ait.nbsp;Br�hm. vu. 34, viii. 21�both of which contain legendary elements.nbsp;It would seem that lists of this kind were long cultivated by the Brahmans; for similar examples occur in the Mahabharata, vii. Iv ff., xii.nbsp;xxix. We may also compare the list of kings who celebrated the horsesacrifice, given in the �atapatha Br�hmana, xiii. 5.

Short catalogues occur also in Vedic poetry. We may instance the list of rivers given in Rgv. x. 75. Short lists of deities, as in i. 22, are notnbsp;rare. Longer examples may be found in the lists of persons of the pastnbsp;befriended by the A�vins or Indra (cf. p. 531), e.g. i. 112, 116 f.,nbsp;VI. 26.

attributes the establishment of the law of conjugal fidelity to the seer �vetaketu. Book xii contains a number of such speculations. Thusnbsp;sect, lix gives an account of the origin of kingship, which reflects a verynbsp;sophisticated form of mythology.

It may be observed that Brahmanic tradition seems regularly to have maintained the doctrine that the Four Castes, together with thenbsp;superiority of the Brahman, had existed from the beginning of the world.nbsp;This doctrine is to be found once even in the Rgveda, in a cosmogonicnbsp;poem (x. 90), which will require notice later. It is possible that thenbsp;stanza (No. 12) in which this occurs was not an original part of thenbsp;poem, for the doctrine seems not to be implied elsewhere in the Rgveda;nbsp;but it was widely known from early times.

545 itself. Here Manu seems properly to be the progenitor�and personification�of the Aryan peoples, as well as the institutor of sacrifice.nbsp;Often (as e.g. in vi. 21. ii) we find a distinction drawn between Manunbsp;and Dasyu. Manu is clearly not the ancestor of the natives. He corresponds indeed to three consecutive generations in Greek speculation�nbsp;to Prometheus as institutor of sacrifice, to Deucalion in the (post-Vedic)nbsp;story of the flood, to Hellen as personified ancestor of the nation. But,nbsp;unlike Hellen, he is separated from the various sectional eponymoi bynbsp;four or five generations.

Many more eponymous ancestors are probably to be traced in the genealogies. It is of course to be borne in mind that speculations of thisnbsp;kind are ultimately based on actual usage, and that the person from whomnbsp;the family or kingdom claims its origin may have been a real person, asnbsp;we have seen in Britain (cf. Vol. i, p. 311). But in the case of ancientnbsp;royal families it is to be suspected that the deeds with which an eponymous ancestor is credited may often be very different from thosenbsp;which he actually performed ; even if he was a real person, his deeds maynbsp;be products of myth or fiction. In India the difficulties attending thisnbsp;question are increased by the fact that the members of a royal family,nbsp;like those of a mantic family (cf. p. 506 f.), individually or collectively,nbsp;may bear the name of a real or reputed ancestor. Thus Bharatas (Norn,nbsp;sing.) may denote either the ancestor or any of his descendants�thoughnbsp;Bharatas is more usual in the latter sense�while Bharatas (Norn, pl.)nbsp;denotes the descendants collectively. Now Bharata Dauhshanti may ornbsp;may not have been a real person. But if he was, as the genealogies say,nbsp;the ancestor of the Bharata (Bharatas)�who formed an importantnbsp;kingdom even in early Rgveda times�he cannot have conquered thenbsp;lands of the Jumna and the Ganges (cf. p. 474) ; neither can he have beennbsp;a grandson of Vi�v�mitra. If Bharata the conqueror is not a fiction, henbsp;must have been a different person from Bharata the eponymos. Similarnbsp;difficulties arise in various other cases.

Most of the Puranic genealogies are traced back to the sons of Yay�ti, though there are a few which are derived from other descendantsnbsp;of Manu. Thus the long genealogy of Ayodhya is made to come from anbsp;son of Manu called Ikshvaku�a name which occurs in Rgv. x. 60. 4,nbsp;though without reference to Manu or any other clear bearings. Therenbsp;are no genealogies which claim any origin except from Manu; but it isnbsp;possible that such genealogies may once have existed. The kingdom ofnbsp;the Matsya is one of those for which no genealogy has been preserved.nbsp;But the king called Matsya, whose birth is described in Mah�bh. I. Ixiii.

61 ff., may well have been the national eponymos/ He is the twin brother of Satyavati ; and they are born from an Apsaras who has beennbsp;transformed into a fish. If this is correct it would seem that the Matsyanbsp;were of non-Aryan origin, though they must have become Aryanised innbsp;course of time. It is a curious fact that in the Aitareya Br�hmana, vii. 18,nbsp;various non-Aryan peoples, indeed �most of the Dasyu�, are said to benbsp;descendants of Vi�v�mitra. The Pur�nas � also speak of R�kshasa whonbsp;were descended from famous seers�which may point to a similarnbsp;belief.

VII. Speculations upon the origin of mankind, the gods and the world are of very frequent occurrence in early Indian poetry. It will benbsp;possible to notice only a few of the more important features.

An account of the four ages (^yuga) contained in a �great age� (cf. p. 540) is given by the monkey-chief Hanumat in Mah�bh. iii. cxlixnbsp;(cf. cxc. 9 ff.), and similar passages occur frequently in other parts of thenbsp;work. The first age is called krta, the second tret�^ the third dvapara^ thenbsp;fourth kali. These names are taken from dice, and mean properly thenbsp;four, three, two and ace respectively. It is in accordance with thisnbsp;terminology that the second age is only three quarters, the third half,nbsp;the fourth a quarter of the length of the first. But there is a deteriorationnbsp;in virtue also ; the first age is perfect, the last very evil. In this respectnbsp;there is at least a remarkable coincidence with the Hesiodic schemenbsp;noticed in Vol. i, p. 318 f., though the terminology of the latter is takennbsp;from metals�apart from the Heroic Age, which we are inclined to regard as an addition. In the Pur�nas the royal genealogies run continuously through these ages. The first age begins with Manu, while thenbsp;third ends and the fourth begins with the great battle of the Mahabharata�i.e. at a date which is probably not very far removed from that ofnbsp;the beginning of Hesiod�s last age. This may of course be a merenbsp;coincidence; but the possibility of a historical connection between thenbsp;two schemes should not be entirely rejected. There seems to be nonbsp;satisfactory evidence for any such scheme in Vedic literature.3

Manu, as we have seen, is known even in the Rgveda as the progenitor of the Aryan peoples and the institutor of sacrifice. The story of thenbsp;flood, however, seems to be later. It is unknown to the Rgveda, and

� For the connection of this king with the Matsya cf. Pargiter, Ancient Indian Historical Tradition, p. 118 f. The word matsya means �fish�.

ANTIQUARIAN LEARNING nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�47

there is only one, very doubtful, reference in the Atharvaveda (xix. 39. 8); but it is found in the �atapatha Br�hmana, i. viii. i, as well as innbsp;later works. In the Mahabharata, iii. clxxxvii, the story is told asnbsp;follows: A small fish appeals to Manu for protection. He brings it up,nbsp;and eventually transfers it first to the Ganges, and then to the sea. Whennbsp;it leaves him, it prophesies the destruction of the world, offers to savenbsp;him, and advises him to build an ark and provide himself with variousnbsp;kinds of seed. He does so, and when the flood comes it reappears innbsp;answer to his appeal, now furnished with horns, and draws his arknbsp;safely through the waters for many years. At length it lands him on thenbsp;Himalayas, and on its departure makes known to him that it is Brahma.nbsp;In this version of the story Manu is accompanied in the ark by thenbsp;primeval �Seven Seers� (Saptarst)-, but in the �atapatha Br�hmana henbsp;seems to be alone. In neither case is there any reference to women innbsp;the ark. Ida (Ila), daughter of Manu, is born later from the sacrifice which follows. In spite of such differences in detail, however, wenbsp;can hardly doubt that this story is connected both with the story ofnbsp;Deucalion and with that of Noah. It may be observed also that a similarnbsp;story is preserved in the Avesta (Vendidad, ii. 21 ff.), though here thenbsp;survivor, Yima, saves himself, with representative animals and plants,nbsp;not in a boat, but in an earthen structure of some kind. The commonnbsp;source of all these stories is doubtless to be sought in Mesopotamia.*

Manu is occasionally said to be a son of Brahma; but these passages may relate to previous incarnations. Usually he is son of Vivasvat, anbsp;relationship which can be traced back to the Rgveda. Now Yama is alsonbsp;son of Vivasvat; and this relationship is found also in the Avesta, wherenbsp;Yima is the progenitor of mankind, while Manu seems to be unknown.nbsp;It is commonly held that Yama (Yima), which means �twin�, and hisnbsp;twin sister Yami (cf. p. 532)�an Iranian counterpart of whom is foundnbsp;in late sources�were originally regarded as the original progenitors ofnbsp;mankind.^ Manu may have taken over this function from Yama�if henbsp;was not originally identical with him�as the latter came to be more andnbsp;more associated with death. The father, Vivasvat, is a rather obscure

� This question will require notice again in a later chapter. But it may be observed here that the fish which saves Manu would seem to be connected with the Mesopotamian water-god Enki or Ea, by whose advice Utnapishtim (i.e. Noah) builds thenbsp;Ark and saves himself. This deity is commonly represented with a form which isnbsp;partly that of a fish; cf. Langdon, Semitic Mythology, p. 103 ff. Can the �Sevennbsp;Seers� be connected with the �seven wise ones� who are mentioned in an obscurenbsp;reference to the Flood contained in an early Accadian story (ib. p. 139 f.)?

figure in the Rgveda, though in later literature he is identified with the sun; in the Avesta he is hardly more than a name. In the Br�hmanas,nbsp;however, and apparently the Yajurveda, as also in later literature, he isnbsp;counted among the Aditya, or children of Aditi�a group which in thenbsp;Rgveda includes Varuna, Mitra, and sometimes Indra. This genealogynbsp;then would make the first human beings nearly related to the gods, justnbsp;as in Greek antiquarian speculation.

Aditi in later literature is wife of Ka�yapa, who is either son of one of the primeval Seven Seers, named Marici, or else one of the Seven himself. He is frequently mentioned in the Atharvaveda, along withnbsp;Vasishtha and other famous seers; but his name seems to occur onlynbsp;once (ix. 114) in the Rgveda, though many hymns are traditionallynbsp;ascribed to him. On the other hand Aditi herself is often mentioned innbsp;the Rgveda, usually but not always in association with her children. Innbsp;later literature she has numerous sisters, of whom one (Diti) is the ancestress of the Daitya, a second (Danu) the mother of the D�nava�nbsp;including �ambara, Namuci and many others�a third the mother ofnbsp;Rahu (see below), a fourth the mother of Vrtra and other Asura, a fifthnbsp;the ancestress of various kinds of animals�deer, bears, lions, horses,nbsp;etc. The genealogies contained in Mah�bh. i. Ixv f. are indeed evennbsp;more comprehensive than those of Hesiod�s Theogony.

In later literature Aditi is daughter of Daksha. The latter seems to be derived from an abstract idea, �strength� or �intelligence�; but he isnbsp;personified even in the Rgveda. His relationship to Aditi here isnbsp;apparently that of both father and son, according to x. 72. In Mah�bh.nbsp;I. Ixvi. 10 f. Daksha himself is said to have sprung from Brahma�s rightnbsp;toe, and his wife from the left one�a story which may be comparednbsp;with the generation of Ymir�s children from his feet, related in thenbsp;Vafhr��nismal, st. 33 (cf. Vol. i, p. 323).

According to Mah�bh. i. i. 29 ff. Brahm�, who is also called � Grandfather� and Praj�pati (�lord of offspring� or �lord of created beings�), was born from a great egg, which came into existence when all the worldnbsp;was darkness. Brahm� as a personal deity does not appear in the Vedas;nbsp;but the name Praj�pati occurs six times in the Rgveda. Once it isnbsp;applied to Savitr, the sun-god, once to Soma, and four times (in Book x)nbsp;to a distinct deity, who is evidently regarded as supreme. In x. 121, ofnbsp;which Ath. IV. 2 is a variant, Praj�pati is the creator and sustainer of thenbsp;world. He came into existence at the beginning as a �Golden Germ�nbsp;(Hiranyagarbha).� The Atharvaveda adds that the waters brought the

549 embryo into being, covered with gold. In the Taittiriya Samhit�,nbsp;VII. I. 5, it is said that in the beginning Praj�pati, becoming the wind,nbsp;moved in the waters. He saw something and, becoming a boar, seizednbsp;it. It became the earth; and from it he generated the gods.

Cosmology or cosmogony was a favourite subject with early Indian poets. The records vary greatly in character. Sometimes what we findnbsp;is mythology of a childish enough kind, as will be seen from the abovenbsp;examples. A somewhat more advanced, but mystical (sacerdotal) conception is found in one poem in the Rgveda (x. 90) to which we havenbsp;already referred. Here all things are fashioned out of a vast primevalnbsp;Man {purusd}, who is sacrificed by the gods. This poem, which willnbsp;require notice again in Ch. X, bears a curious resemblance to a passagenbsp;in the Norse Grimnismal (cf. Vol. i, p. 321). But there are other casesnbsp;where mythology has altogether disappeared. Thus in Rgv. x. 129 thenbsp;opening stanzas, which describe the formless void or chaos existingnbsp;before the origin of the world, may be compared with passages in thenbsp;V�luspa (st. 3 ff.) and in the Gylfaginning (cap 4 f.) which are concerned with the same theme (cf. Vol. i, pp. 321, 323). But the Norsenbsp;passages introduce mythology in order to explain the change, probablynbsp;on more or less traditional lines, whereas the Indian poet is content tonbsp;ask who knows how it took place. He says {adfin^ that the answer maynbsp;or may not be known to a primal cause and governing power.

Lastly, it may be noted that primitive explanations of recurrent natural phenomena occur in early Indian poetry, as elsewhere. We maynbsp;instance the explanation of eclipses given in Mah�bh. i. xix. The demonnbsp;R�hu had obtained access to a feast of Soma, disguised as a heavenlynbsp;being. He was detected, however, by Candra and S�rya (the Moon andnbsp;the Sun) and pointed out to the gods; and thereupon Vishnu cut off hisnbsp;head. Ever since then the head has borne enmity against Candra andnbsp;S�rya and sought to devour them.

� The poems noticed in this paragraph (Rgv. x. 90 and 129) are transi, by Thomas, Vedic Hymns, pp. 120 ff., 127 f.

INCIDENTAL gnomes are of frequent occurrence in the Rgveda, as in later poetry. Usually they belong to the second (nonAristotelian) of the types distinguished in Vol. i (p. 377), i.e. theynbsp;are gnomes of � observation rather than of � obligation �. As an examplenbsp;we may take x. 37. 2 : �Every other thing which moves takes rest, (but)nbsp;the waters and S�rya (the Sun) are always in motion.� As an illustrationnbsp;of human activities, which approximates somewhat to the other type, wenbsp;may quote vn. 32. 9: �It is the zealous (i.e. he who is generous innbsp;offerings) who conquers, lives in peace, and prospers; the gods are notnbsp;for him who is miserly.�

In the Rgveda also, as in ancient European poetry, we find poems which consist wholly or mainly of gnomes. These poems, however,nbsp;usually differ from those of the West in the fact that the gnomes are allnbsp;connected and relate to the same object, faculty or quality. As a wholenbsp;the poems amount to detailed descriptions of the things which are theirnbsp;subjects, and we shall therefore treat them under �descriptive� poetry,nbsp;below. The nearest approach to the Western type which we havenbsp;observed is in Rgv. x. 117, the subject of which is Liberality. This poemnbsp;contains gnomes relating not only to the liberal and the illiberal man,nbsp;but also to the plough, the Brahman, animals, etc. One or two of thenbsp;sentences also seem to be in the form of precepts. Even here, however,nbsp;there is more unity than in Western gnomic poetry. Perhaps the nearestnbsp;analogies are to be found in parts of Hesiod�s TVorks and Days.

There is another poem (ix. 112), however, containing a short series of gnomes, which differs greatly from these; indeed we know of nonbsp;parallel to it in early Indian literature. Its character may be seen fromnbsp;the following extracts:� �Diverse are our thoughts, (diverse) the

' Type I denotes gnomes of choice or obligation. In this we distinguish (a) moral (ethical) gnomes, (V} gnomes relating to religion or magic, (c) gnomes relating tonbsp;industries, crafts, etc. Type II denotes gnomes of observation. Here we distinguishnbsp;(a) gnomes relating to human beings, (�) gnomes relating to deities, fate and death,nbsp;(c) gnomes relating to animals, inanimate objects, natural phenomena, etc. Gnomesnbsp;of Type I are nearly related to precepts and can usually be converted into them.nbsp;The affinities of Type II lie with descriptive poetry.

desires of mankind. The joiner wishes for something broken, the doctor for someone injured, the priest for a worshipper. Flow round.nbsp;Soma,�: �qj. gratification of Indra!.. .1 am a poet, my daddyanbsp;doctor, my mammy� plies the quern. With diverse thoughts, (but) intent on livelihood, we go as it were in pursuit of cattle (i.e. wealth).nbsp;Flow round, etc. The horse wishes for a light chariot to draw... the frognbsp;for water. Flow round, etc.� One might be inclined at first sight tonbsp;regard this as an occasional poem, of Type E, a Type which we have notnbsp;found represented elsewhere in early Indian literature. But the refrain 3nbsp;shows that it is an �occupation� song, presumably of Type B, for usenbsp;during the preparation of the Soma. Its analogies are to be sought innbsp;weaving and grinding songs, on which the Norse poems Darra�arlj��nbsp;and Grottas�ngr are based.4 Like them it is close akin to a spell, if it is notnbsp;actually to be taken as such. But as regards the gnomes, with which wenbsp;are concerned here, it is to be observed that they are all of the � observation� type (Type II), and that the two last quoted belong to the varietynbsp;(Type lie) relating to observations of animals, etc., a variety whichnbsp;elsewhere seems to be rare in ancient India. The context in which theynbsp;occur here is therefore worth noting. It is remarkable that such a poemnbsp;as this should have been preserved in the Rgveda.

In the Atharvaveda the only example of gnomes we have noticed is XX. 128, one of the series of hymns known as Kunt�pa. In the Aitareyanbsp;Br�hmana, vi. 32 ff., these poems are credited with a ritual interpretation,nbsp;which is not easy to understand. But the natural interpretation of thenbsp;poem to which we refer is gnomic or semi-gnomic, at least in st. i-j.nbsp;These stanzas distinguish between the pious, bold and liberal on thenbsp;one hand and the incestuous, faithless, insolent and mean on the other,nbsp;and the recompenses which both classes receive. The following stanzasnbsp;again distinguish between persons and things which�one may infer�nbsp;are regarded as commendable and their opposites; but it is stated merelynbsp;that �these things are ordered in the rules�. These lists include not onlynbsp;(e.g.) the liberal and the mean man but also the horse which is, or is not,nbsp;under control and the pool where one can, or cannot, drink�instances

' The word used here (and very frequently elsewhere) is indu, the juice of the soma.

3 The same refrain is found in the two following poems (ix. 113 f.), which otherwise have nothing in common with this. Words to the same effect occur very frequently in hymns to Soma.

�* Cf. Vol. I, pp. 346 {., 449. We may also refer to the Greek fragment noticed ii. p. 429, note.

which again approximate to the variety of gnome which in Vol. i, p. 377 f., we classified under Type lie. The rest of the poem (st. 12 If.)nbsp;has no gnomic affinities.

In the Br�hmanas themselves �mystical� gnomes are extremely frequent, e.g. Ait. Br. iii. 39: �As in the ocean all streams, so in itnbsp;(viz. the Agnishtoma rite) all the sacrificial rites are resolved� (Keith).nbsp;Otherwise the gnomic element seems to be slight unless one includesnbsp;under this head the statements of�and directions for�ritual observances, which form almost the whole of their substance. We think,nbsp;however, that these are better referred to the timeless nameless compositions treated in the next chapter. But a certain amount of gnomicnbsp;matter is contained in the poetry preserved in the Br�hmanas from sourcesnbsp;other than the Vedic collections. We may instance the poetry quoted innbsp;the story of �unah�epa (cf. p. 496 f.), in Ait. Br. vii. 13 ff. It is religiousnbsp;gnomic poetry (of Type Ila), relating to the advantages to be derivednbsp;from having a son and from a life of retirement in the forest.

The earlier Upanishads likewise contain very little gnomic matter. Incidental gnomes occur occasionally, by way of illustration, as in thenbsp;Ch�ndogya Upanishad, iv. xiv. 3 : �As water clings not to a lotus leaf,nbsp;so evil doing clings not to one who knows this.� But the substancenbsp;of the Upanishads�their philosophy�cannot properly be regarded asnbsp;gnomic, unless one is prepared to include mysticism in this category.nbsp;We prefer to treat it in Ch. X, below. There are indeed certain passagesnbsp;which may perhaps be regarded as gnomic, if they truly represent thenbsp;current beliefs of the times. Thus in the same Upanishad, iv. iii. i ff., itnbsp;is stated that the sun and moon at their setting, as also fire when it goesnbsp;out and water when it dries up, pass into wind, while in sleep speech,nbsp;the eye, the ear and the mind pass into breath.* But even with regardnbsp;to this we are far from certain.

Mention must here be made of the S�tras, a numerous class of works, which are likewise products of the Vedic schools. Like the Br�hmanasnbsp;they are concerned with the observance of rites. But unlike these theynbsp;contain no speculation or discussion; they consist of rules expressed innbsp;the briefest possible (prose) form for mnemonic purposes. The form isnbsp;prevailingly gnomic. The chief varieties are (i) the �rauta, which relatenbsp;to the ritual of sacrifice; (2) the Grhya, which are concerned with thenbsp;�house� {grha) and devoted to such matters as household worship,

* Hume, The Thirteen Principal Upanishads, p. 217. A better example is perhaps to be found in the behaviour of the lover, described in the Brhad�ranyaka Upanishad, VI. iv. 7 ff.; but the passage consists of spells.

marriage, the birth of children, education, funerals and offerings to the � fathers � ; (3) the Dharma which are concerned with law, and from whichnbsp;the (metrical) Law-books of later times, e.g. the �Laws of Manu�, arenbsp;said to be largely derived. The interest throughout is essentially religious.nbsp;This kind of literature is believed to have been cultivated for a longnbsp;period; the earliest S�tras are thought to date back as far as the sixthnbsp;century (b.c.).'

The Mahabharata contains an immense amount of gnomic poetry; but it is very unevenly distributed. In those portions of the worknbsp;which can properly be regarded as heroic the gnomic element is usuallynbsp;very slight. This may be seen most clearly in the episodic stories ofnbsp;Nala and R�ma. Here we find only isolated gnomes; and these are bynbsp;no means frequent. For one of the rare instances where two gnomesnbsp;occur together we may refer to iii. Ixx. 8 f., where the disguised Nala,nbsp;who is interviewing Damayanti�s envoy, remarks: �Noble women,nbsp;when misfortune befalls them, preserve themselves by their own efforts,nbsp;attaining heaven without doubt by their loyalty. Even when forsakennbsp;by their husbands the best of women are never wrathful; they pass livesnbsp;fortified by virtue.� What he says after this applies to the special circumstances of the case.

On the other hand the speeches of Vidul�, in v. cxxxiii ff. (cf. p. 470 f.), abound with gnomes of a heroic character. Indeed they may be said tonbsp;alternate between heroic gnomes and personal appeals to her son, tonbsp;rouse himself to action. In general, however, gnomic elements are morenbsp;prominent in the non-heroic stories. Instances may be found in thenbsp;story of �akuntal�, in i. Ixxiv, and in that of Yay�ti and his wives,nbsp;especially i. btxix ff. �akuntal�s speeches, when she upbraids Dush-manta for repudiating her, alternate between gnomes and personalnbsp;appeals, like those of Vidul�. But they are perhaps rather to be compared with Hesiod�s I^orks and Days, for the gnomes are not of heroicnbsp;character. The main story of the Mahabharata varies greatly. At timesnbsp;the gnomic element is hardly more prominent than in the story of Nala;nbsp;but very often the story has become merely a framework for didacticnbsp;speeches, which are sometimes largely of gnomic character. Some ofnbsp;these are philosophical treatises, in which gnomic lore and mystical lorenbsp;are combined, though usually the latter seems to be predominant. Thenbsp;most fully developed example of this kind is the Bhagavadgita which

* We have not the knowledge to deal with the S�tras more fully. We are under the impression that their value for a comparative study of literature is not verynbsp;great; but this may be erroneous.

is spoken by Krshna to Arjuna on the eve of the great battle (vi. 26 ff.). Elsewhere the connection is with law, as in the long speech of thenbsp;dying Bhishma which occupies the greater part of Books xii and xiii.nbsp;This is believed to be one of the latest elements in the Mahabharata;nbsp;much of it seems to be derived from the same sources as the M�navanbsp;Dharma ��stra or �Laws of Manu�. It is largely in gnomic form,nbsp;though interspersed with many narratives and other matter of variousnbsp;kinds.

Among other collections of gnomes we may note the series spoken by the monkey Hanumat to Bhima (ili. 150), who has met him in thenbsp;forest. They recognise themselves to be brothers, for both of them arenbsp;sons of V�yu (the Wind-god). The gnomes here, as in other collections,nbsp;are concerned largely with the duties of the different castes and withnbsp;advice to kings on the conduct of government; and there is nothingnbsp;specially remarkable about them except their inappropriateness to thenbsp;occasion. But it is rather curious that Hanumat�s discourse as a wholenbsp;consists of three elements�the doctrine of the �Four Ages�, brotherlynbsp;admonitions, and the gnomes�which are found also in Hesiod�s J^orksnbsp;and Days} The admonitions are doubtless an accidental coincidence;nbsp;for the circumstances in the two cases are quite different. But the combination of the Four Ages with the gnomes is perhaps worth noting,nbsp;especially as the former seem to be as much out of place here as thenbsp;latter. We do not suppose that the gnomes themselves are ancient in theirnbsp;present form; nor do we doubt that the whole episode is a late additionnbsp;to the Mahabharata, derived from the story of Rama. Yet it may containnbsp;early elements.

In III. cclviii a series of gnomes is delivered by Vy�sa, when he comes to comfort Yudhishthira. These are of a more strictly ethical characternbsp;than most of the other series. Asceticism is praised, and it is laid downnbsp;that the vicious will be re-born as beasts, while the virtuous will benbsp;rewarded in their next incarnation. But at the same time it is recognisednbsp;that virtue brings its own reward in this life. Generosity is of course thenbsp;greatest of virtues; but other virtues are not ignored.

Lastly, we may note the counsels given to King Dhrtar�shtra in I. cxlii by the Brahman Kanika, who is his minister or adviser. The kingnbsp;is becoming afraid of his nephews, the sons of P�ndu, and seeks advicenbsp;as to how he shall deal with them. Kanika�s discourse consists in thenbsp;main of gnomes; but these are of a different character from those we

� Hesiod has five �races�; but we doubt if the fourth of these belonged to the original scheme (cf. Vol. I, p. 318 f.).

have discussed above. The discourse is a speech in character, suited to the occasion; and Kanika realises that the king desires justification fornbsp;dealing treacherously. Some of the gnomes are of a cynical character,nbsp;superficially similar to what are found in the first part of the Havamalnbsp;(cf. Vol. I, p. 383 f.), though the element of humour seems to be wanting.nbsp;We may cite st. 6o, where it is stated that one should never trust thenbsp;faithless and not put too much trust even in the faithful. But the majoritynbsp;of the gnomes relate to statecraft and recommend an unlimited employment of treachery in dealings with possible rivals. By way of illustrationnbsp;a fable is introduced, describing how a jackal cheated various othernbsp;animals; and the king is recommended�apparently without any sensenbsp;of humour�to take the jackal as his model. This fable will be noticednbsp;in the next chapter.

It is generally agreed that the long religious and legal �treatises� noticed above are late additions to the Mahabharata�later than thenbsp;times which properly come within the scope of our survey. The gnomicnbsp;elements in the story of �akuntal� and in other non-heroic contextsnbsp;may be of earlier date, in view of the poetry relating to �unah�epanbsp;preserved in the Aitareya Br�hmana; and the same may be true ofnbsp;Vidul�s heroic gnomes. We should hesitate, however, to uphold thenbsp;great antiquity of any of the gnomic collections contained in thenbsp;Mahabharata, in their present form.

The gnomes of the Mah�bh�rata belong to both of the types which we distinguished in Vol. i, p. 377 f. Both the Aristotelian type of gnomenbsp;(Type I)�which implies the use of choice or judgment�and thenbsp;gnome of observation (Type II) are of common occurrence. But thenbsp;latter seems to be limited in general to human activities and experiencesnbsp;(Ila) and to the operations of fate and the gods (IIb}. We have notnbsp;noticed any gnomes relating to animal life and inanimate things (He),nbsp;apart from occasional examples which are introduced in some relationnbsp;to human beings. In view of the enormous extent of the Mah�bh�ratanbsp;negative statements are not lightly to be ventured upon; but we thinknbsp;that �natural history� gnomes, such as are found in Anglo-Saxon andnbsp;early Welsh poetry, must be rare, if they occur at all. Enthymemesnbsp;seem not to be common.

Descriptive poetry relating to specified persons, places or (individual) objects seems not to occur in the early period, except in the case ofnbsp;deities and their belongings. On the other hand typical descriptions,nbsp;e.g. of animals, natural phenomena, and even abstract conceptions, are

quite frequent, especially in the last book of the Rgveda. In these respects Vedic poetry shows the same characteristics as the early poetrynbsp;of the West. The subjects treated in the poems are also often similar tonbsp;what we found in the latter (Vol. i, p. 407 ff.), though the treatment isnbsp;fuller and the matter more homogeneous�free from an extraneousnbsp;gnomic context. Sometimes the poems bear a certain resemblance tonbsp;the early Riddle poetry of the West (j.b. p. 412 ff.), though they are notnbsp;themselves intended as riddles.

One poem (Rgv. x. 117) on Liberality, or rather the conduct of generous and ungenerous men, has already been noticed (p. 550). Akinnbsp;to this in subject is x. 107, which deals with the �Bounty� {dakshinaf-given by princes to the priests who perform sacrifices for them. It is anbsp;poem which well illustrates the more unpleasing side of Vedic poetry:nbsp;e.g. (st. 2) �The bounteous abide on high in heaven; givers of horsesnbsp;are with S�rya (the Sun); givers of gold acquire immortality; givers ofnbsp;robes prolong their lives.� And again (iA 7) �Bounty gives the horse.nbsp;Bounty gives the ox. Bounty also gives gleaming gold �, etc.

A short poem (x. 168) gives a description of the wind, which may be compared with the riddle contained in the Book of Taliesin, noticed innbsp;Vol. I, p. 413 f. It celebrates �the might of the chariot of the Wind�nbsp;destroying it goes, thundering its roar.... Hastening along paths in thenbsp;air he comes not to rest on any single day. The friend of the Waters,nbsp;first born and holy�where was he bom, whence is he come? Thenbsp;breath of the gods, the germ of existence�this god moves as he will.nbsp;His roars are heard, (but) his form is not (seen). Let us honour thisnbsp;V�ta (the Wind) with a sacrifice.� Reference may be made here also tonbsp;X. 127, the subject of which is Night.�

Descriptive poems upon animals are not unknown. As an instance we may cite i. 163, which is intended for a horse-sacrifice, like the poemnbsp;which precedes it {ib. 162); but much of it is occupied with the description of a typical chariot-horse. More interesting is a poem (vii. 103)3nbsp;on the activities of frogs at the coming of rain. Their appearance andnbsp;movements are described ; and their croaking round the pool is comparednbsp;to the chanting of Brahmans at an offering of Soma. The poem is

� This word properly means the priest�s fee. We have used the word �bounty�, which is less strictly correct, because �fee� to the modern mind rather suggests anbsp;fixed price, which seems to have been by no means what the poet intended. Thenbsp;poem is transi, by Thomas, Vedic Hymns, p. 106 f.

believed to be intended as a spell for rain, for which the frogs are said to be responsible; but it may be noticed here, as its character is essentiallynbsp;descriptive.

Other poems of this class are concerned with human beings. The most striking of these is the description of a gamester, which forms the subject of X. 34. Dice-playing is noticed briefly in a descriptive passage innbsp;the Gnomes of the Exeter Book (182 ff.); but the Vedic poem describesnbsp;it in detail and emphasises its disastrous consequences. Thus (st. 4):nbsp;� Others embrace the wife of him whose possessions have been claimednbsp;by the conquering dice; his father, mother and brothers say �We do notnbsp;know him�bind him and take him away.�� And again (st. 10): �Thenbsp;forsaken wife of the gambler is consumed with sorrow, (and so also) hisnbsp;mother, as her son wanders from place to place. Covered with debt,nbsp;living in fear, and seeking a subsistence, he makes his way by night tonbsp;the dwelling of others��whether as a thief or a beggar is not madenbsp;clear. In st. 13 the poet passes on to a precept, to let dice alone andnbsp;attend to the plough, after the manner of Hesiod. Several stanzas arenbsp;occupied with the feelings and reflections of the gambler, in speechnbsp;form, which makes the poem approximate to poetry of the nextnbsp;category. For a contrast we may compare x. 136, which describesnbsp;briefly the life and appearance of a muni or religious devotee.

Mention may also be made here of vi. 75, which gives an interesting picture of the warfare of the Vedic period. The objects described are thenbsp;bow, arrow, quiver, bracer, whip and body-armour. The warrior andnbsp;charioteer, the horses and chariot are also noticed. There seems to be nonbsp;reference to any weapons used in hand to hand fighting.

It has been remarked that most of the poems which belong to this class are found in Book x; they date therefore probably from towardsnbsp;the end of the Vedic period. There can be no doubt, however, as to thenbsp;antiquity of the type, and also as to its importance in the early history ofnbsp;Indian poetry and thought. The hymns to the Dawn, which are fairlynbsp;numerous and occur even in what are believed to be the oldest Books,nbsp;must be regarded primarily as descriptive poems, like the poems onnbsp;Night and Wind noticed above. In some of them indeed the descriptivenbsp;element is still predominant,�- though in others it tends to be obscurednbsp;by references to the passage of time or to worship or the welfare of thenbsp;worshippers.

� One short poem, x. 172, is little more than a description of the dawn, with the cows coming to be milked; but even here there is a reference to the morningnbsp;sacrifice.

More important is the fact that some of the chief gods are not clearly distinguished from the objects and elements from which they are derived; the hymns to such gods consist largely of descriptions of thenbsp;latter. Such is the case with Agni (�Fire�), whose hymns are verynbsp;numerous and widespread. He is regarded as a priest and messenger tonbsp;the gods, and invoked for various blessings ; but the mythological conceptions relating to him are often of an elementary and more or lessnbsp;obvious character. Passages descriptive of (natural) fire audits workingsnbsp;are seldom if ever wholly wanting in hymns to him; and some hymnsnbsp;consist mainly of such descriptions. As an instance we may quotenbsp;I. 65. 4: �When sped by the wind he spreads through the forests, Agninbsp;does indeed shear the hair of earth.� So also V. 26. 3: �We wouldnbsp;kindle thee, the bright summoner (of the gods) to the feast.� Agni isnbsp;sometimes said to be born at daybreak, when the fire is lighted, as innbsp;v. I. 5: �Noble, he was born at daybreak, laid ruddy among the laidnbsp;logs.� Occasionally also, as in x. 79. 4, he is said to devour his parentsnbsp;�which seem to be the two fire-sticks.

The same remarks apply to Soma, to whom all the hymns in Book ix and several others are addressed. This god is hardly distinguished fromnbsp;the Soma plant and the intoxicating liquor, used at sacrifices, which wasnbsp;made from it; and the hymns largely consist of descriptions ofnbsp;the preparation and the virtues of this liquor. Thus Soma is saidnbsp;to have his home upon the mountains, from whence the plant wasnbsp;obtained; he is pressed with stones, by which the juice was extracted,nbsp;and filtered through a woollen sieve. He boils or bubbles in thenbsp;vessels.

True riddles are also to be found in the Rgveda. One long and very obscure poem (i. 164) seems to consist mainly of riddles. Among themnbsp;are two �year-riddles� (st. 11, 48), which were perhaps originallynbsp;variants. The year is represented as a wheel, with twelve spokes ornbsp;fellies and 360 or 720 minor parts, representing days or nights and days.nbsp;Another, much shorter, poem (viii. 29) * consists of brief descriptionsnbsp;of a number of gods, who are not named. The descriptions seem to benbsp;intended as riddles. Book x furnishes at least two examples. No. 27,nbsp;a poem of Type B, in which Indra is the speaker, seems to contain anbsp;number of riddles, though it is very obscure. The same is true of No. 28,nbsp;which is a dialogue poem of Type B. Another poem of the same typenbsp;(zA 125), in which the speaker is said to be �Speech� (J^�c) personified,nbsp;may also perhaps be regarded as a riddle (cf. p. 532). It has the formnbsp;* Transi, by Thomas, op. cit. p. 84.

found in many Anglo-Saxon riddles, in which the subject describes its own properties or powers.

In the Atharvaveda descriptive elements are by no means wanting; but they occur for the most part in poems which are primarily prayersnbsp;or spells. We have not noticed any poems which can be regarded asnbsp;wholly descriptive. On the whole possibly the nearest approach to thisnbsp;is a poem (xii. 1) which consists of a long series of invocations of Earth,nbsp;alternating with brief notices of the various forms of activity, human,nbsp;animal and elemental, which pervade it. We may also cite xi. 5, thenbsp;description of a Brahmacarin (a Brahman student, who has taken anbsp;religious vow), which is neither a prayer nor a spell, though it containsnbsp;much mystical matter. Here too mention should be made of xix. 53 f.,nbsp;which are concerned with Time {Kalo), and of ib. 56, which is addressednbsp;to Sleep, both conceptions being more or less personified. A poem onnbsp;the plough (ill. 17) may practically be regarded as descriptive; but innbsp;form it consists of a series of prayers and wishes. The same may perhapsnbsp;be said of ill. 22, which is in the form of a speech by the princely ownernbsp;of an elephant; but the description of the elephant is much less definite.^nbsp;Brief descriptive passages are of frequent occurrence in spells.

Riddles seem to be rare in the Atharvaveda. A number of examples apparently occur in x. 8, an obscure poem dealing with cosmology;nbsp;among them is a variant of the �year-riddle�, noticed above. Apartnbsp;from this we have noticed instances only in the Kunt�pa series in Book xx,nbsp;especially Nos. 133 f. These also are too difficult for us to deal with,nbsp;though the obscurities are of a different kind from those found in thenbsp;poem just mentioned.

In the Br�hmanas and early Upanishads descriptive passages seem to be rare. As an instance we may cite the invocation to a magical concoction (mantha) given in the Brhad�ranyaka Upanishad, vi. iii. 4, innbsp;which the powers and qualities of the object addressed are enumerated.nbsp;The passage has elements in common with some of the Rgveda poemsnbsp;noticed above.

Descriptive poetry in the Mahabharata is naturally of a somewhat different character. Descriptions of places are by no means rare, thoughnbsp;they are typical or conventional, not photographic, descriptions. Thenbsp;favourite subject seems to be a tropical forest. An instance may benbsp;found in iii. Ixiv. i if., where Damayanti has been forsaken by her hus-

� Mention may also be made of vi. 109, which gives an account of the properties and history of the fruit of a certain tree, believed to be efficacious for healing wounds.nbsp;This poem has not the form of a spell, though it may have been used as such.

band: �The lady of the lotus eyes, when she had slain the hunter, made her way to the awful desolate forest. It resounded with troops of cricketsnbsp;and was haunted by troops of lions, leopards, stags, tigers, buffaloes andnbsp;bears. It was filled with numerous troops of birds and inhabited bynbsp;barbarians and robbers. It was a network of bamboos� and variousnbsp;kinds of trees, a list of which occupies the next three �loka. Then �shenbsp;saw hills � seamed with many different kinds of minerals, thickets resounding with song and caves of marvellous appearance, rivers, lakesnbsp;and pools, with various animals and birds�. Further details follow.nbsp;Similar descriptions are to be found elsewhere; and the same is true ofnbsp;the R�m�yana, where they are sometimes of great length.

Descriptions of persons also are not uncommon; and these too follow conventional lines. Examples may be found in the same section (iii.nbsp;Ixiv. 44 ff.), where Damayanti describes her father and husband. Thenbsp;words differ, but the qualities specified�power, prowess, piety,nbsp;liberality, personal beauty, etc.�are much the same in both cases. Innbsp;Ixviii. 10 If. a much longer description is given of Damayanti herself, bynbsp;the Brahman Sudeva. Here we have the picture of a beautiful and noblenbsp;lady who has fallen into misfortune ; but with this limitation the description is strictly conventional. He compares her, first, with the goddessesnbsp;�ri and Rati and with the radiance of the full moon. Then he comparesnbsp;her form, besmeared with dust and dirt, with a lotus plant torn up by anbsp;mischance of fate from the lake of Vidarbha, and with a night at fullnbsp;moon when the moon has been devoured by R�hu (the eclipse demon).nbsp;Miserable and distraught with grief for her husband she is like a rivernbsp;whose waters have been dried up. Other similar comparisons follow.

Riddles seem not to be of frequent occurrence in the Mah�bh�rata. In III. cxxxiii, when Asht�vakra comes to challenge Vandi at Kingnbsp;Janaka�s sacrifice (cf. p. 505), he finds at first some difficulty in obtainingnbsp;admission, owing to his youth. The king asks him riddles in threenbsp;couplets, to which he replies in three other couplets. The first is a formnbsp;of the very common year-riddle. The second seems to refer to thundernbsp;and lightning. The third couplet contains four riddles in the shortestnbsp;form, to which the answers are respectively � fish �, � egg �, � stone �, � river �.nbsp;The whole series bears a very close resemblance to the �Riddles ofnbsp;Gestumblindi�, noticed in Vol. i, p. 412. It may be observed that one ofnbsp;Gestumblindi�s stanzas (No. 7) likewise contains four very brief riddlesnbsp;(raven, dew, fish, waterfall).� Russian and Yugoslav parallels havenbsp;been noticed above (pp. 212, 410).

Another, much longer, series occurs in iii. cccxii. They are proposed to Yudhishthira by a Yaksha in the form of a crane�who turns out tonbsp;be Dharma, the god of Duty, Yudhishthira�s father. The heroes, whonbsp;are overcome with thirst, have been forbidden to drink by the cranenbsp;before they answer his questions; and Yudhishthira�s four brothers havenbsp;already dropped down dead. These riddles are all of the same compositenbsp;type as the last of those just noticed, each couplet containing three ornbsp;four. Most of them relate to religious and philosophical conceptions;nbsp;but there are a few simple nature riddles�sun, moon, rain, etc. Onenbsp;(st. 61) is practically identical with the one given above.

at least one poem in the last book of the Rgveda (x. 159). This is a monologue by a wife who has succeeded in obtaining the chief positionnbsp;in the harem. It appears to be a speech in character, similar to certainnbsp;Anglo-Saxon poems, especially �The Wife�s Complaint� and �Thenbsp;Husband�s Message� (cf. Vol. i, p. 425)�a type which is representednbsp;also in Yugoslav poetry (cf. p. 402 ff.) and in Russian poems and folksongs (cf. p. 223 IF.). �(As) yonder sun has arisen, (so) my good luck hasnbsp;arisen. Clever, triumphant, I have won for myself my lord... . (Now)nbsp;without rivals, having crushed my rivals, conquering, victorious, I havenbsp;laid hold upon the glory and the goods of the other wives, as those ofnbsp;weaker beings. Victorious, I have conquered those rival wives, so thatnbsp;I shall have rule over this hero and his people.�

There are other poems similar to this which have the form of spells. In X. 145 the speaker, again a woman, says she is digging up a certainnbsp;herb, which has the property of driving off a rival wife and gaining thenbsp;whole affection of a husband. She appeals to the herb to help her; andnbsp;more than once she speaks of herself as already successful. In x. 166 thenbsp;speaker, in this case a man, begs to be made conqueror of his rivals andnbsp;slayer ofhis foes. In st. 3 he invokes V�caspati (�Lord of Speech�), whichnbsp;seems to be a title of Brhaspati. But in spite of this the poem, whichnbsp;is perhaps accompanied by the drawing of a bow, looks more like a spellnbsp;than a prayer. Three stanzas are addressed to his rivals. In st. 2 andnbsp;again in st. 5 f. he speaks of himself as already victorious. The poemnbsp;concludes as follows: �I have set my foot upon your heads. Speak tonbsp;me up from below my feet, like frogs from the water.�

In view of the resemblance between these three poems it may be thought that x. 159 should also be regarded as a spell; for spells oftennbsp;speak of the object as accomplished, in England and elsewhere, as wellnbsp;as in India. And this interpretation is quite possible. But we think onnbsp;the whole it is more naturally to be taken at its face value, as a study of

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 563 situation; for poems of this type (Type B) are found in the Rgveda innbsp;other categories (cf. 532 f.), and the descriptive poem on the gamester,nbsp;noticed on p. 5 57, might almost be taken as an example in this categorynbsp;itself. As regards the other two poems, we see no reason to doubt thatnbsp;X. 145 is a true spell, i.e. a spell intended for actual use. According tonbsp;our scheme therefore it belongs to Type D (see below). But we are notnbsp;so sure about x. 166. In spite of the reference to the bow�which is notnbsp;clear�it might be a speech in character in the form of a spell; in whichnbsp;case it is to be referred to Type B (BD). Poems of Types D and BD arenbsp;of course often difficult to distinguish, especially in this category, wherenbsp;historical data are excluded.

The Atharvaveda contains a few poems which may be noticed here, though in every case the interpretation is open to some element ofnbsp;doubt. We may exclude ill. 18, which is a variant of Rgv. x. 145, andnbsp;also I. 14, which perhaps relates to a similar subject, but is difficult andnbsp;obscure. There are, however, one or two poems on quite differentnbsp;themes which deserve consideration. In vii. 60 the speaker, who is anbsp;traveller, addresses the houses of a friendly village�whether it is his ownnbsp;village or not is not clear to us He wishes the inhabitants good luck andnbsp;bids them not to be afraid of him. It does not seem to us very likely thatnbsp;this poem can have been intended for practical use, and therefore we arenbsp;inclined to regard it as an example of Type B. With iii. 15, which dealsnbsp;with a somewhat similar situation, the case is otherwise. The speakernbsp;here is a merchant, who is praying to Agni and other gods for success onnbsp;a trading expedition; and the poem seems to be intended to accompanynbsp;an offering.

Mention may perhaps be made here of a curious series of poems dealing with gambling at dice. Two of these (ii. 2; iv. 38) are evidentlynbsp;spells, addressed to the Gandharva and the Apsarasas, who are creditednbsp;with the power of granting success in gaming. Another (vii. 50) maynbsp;likewise be intended as a spell; it contains invocations to Agni, thenbsp;Maruts and Indra, and then addresses the opponent as already defeated.nbsp;A fourth (vii. 109) is in the form of a prayer to Agni, accompanied bynbsp;an offering of butter. A fifth (vi. 118) is an appeal to two Apsarasas by anbsp;man who has cheated and wishes to escape punishment, apparently innbsp;the next world. Some special circumstances, not clear to us, seem to benbsp;involved; and we are therefore inclined to suspect that this is a poem ofnbsp;Type B, rather than a genuine appeal. It should be added, however,nbsp;that the na�vet� which pervades the whole group suggests a mentalitynbsp;which it is difficult for the modern mind to appreciate. There is no trace

of the censure which is expressed emphatically enough in Rgv. x. 34 (cf. p. 557).

The poem last mentioned is followed by another (vi. 119) which is somewhat in the same vein. The speaker represents himself as a dishonest man, who has incurred debts�not in gaming�and has no intention of repaying them. He appeals to Agni to absolve him from guilt.nbsp;Here again we are faced with the choice between Type B and Type D.nbsp;Is it a speech in character, by a knave, or a formula seriously prescribednbsp;for use in such situations.''

Lastly, it may be noted that the Atharvaveda contains a number of love-poems. These are either spells or at least have the form of spells;nbsp;and consequently they will require notice in the next chapter. In a fewnbsp;cases, however, this element is very slight, and perhaps no more than anbsp;traditional form. Such poems, especially VI. 8 f., approximate to modernnbsp;love-songs (Type B), and it seems hardly necessary to suppose that theynbsp;were any more restricted in use than the latter.

Type D is much more widely represented than Type B and, apart from the cases already noticed, most of the examples are free from doubt.nbsp;Many of them, however, are spells, and these will in general be reservednbsp;for treatment in the next chapter. Of the poems which are not spells thenbsp;majority seem to be designed for use on solemn occasions, at socialnbsp;festivities or funerals, or at political gatherings. Most of them containnbsp;a large religious element.

In the Rgveda we may notice, first, a group of funeral hymns, x. 14, 16-18, 154.^ The first of these begins with an appeal to honour Yamanbsp;(the king of the dead; cf. p. 532), �who first discovered to us the way�.nbsp;Then (st. 4�.) Yama is invited to come with the �Fathers� to thenbsp;ceremony. Next (st. 7) the dead man is exhorted to set out to wherenbsp;he shall see Varuna and Yama. In st. 9 demons are bidden to depart.nbsp;In st. 10 the dead man is advised to hasten past the hounds ofnbsp;Saram� and come to the place where Yama is feasting with the Fathers.nbsp;St. 11 is addressed to Yama, committing the dead man to his care.nbsp;The rest of the poem is an exhortation to those present to worshipnbsp;Yama.

The next poem of the group (x. 16) is in the form of a prayer to Agni to convey the dead man to the Fathers. In this case the funeral isnbsp;evidently by cremation. In st. ii ff. Agni is besought to bring the

� Nos. 14 (except st. 3-6), 18 and 154 are transi., with interesting introductions, by E. J. Thomas, Vedic Hymns, p. 112 ff.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 565 Fathers to the sacrifice. St. 3, 6 and 7 are apparently addressed to thenbsp;dead man.

The next poem (x. 17) seems to be a composite work; only st. 3-6 relate to a funeral. In these P�shan, Agni, Ayus (the spirit of life) andnbsp;Savitar are invoked to bring the dead man to the Fathers.

The most striking poem of the group is x. 18. Here the funeral seems to be by inhumation. The poem begins with an appeal to Deathnbsp;to depart and not to harm the heroes (present) or their children. Thennbsp;(st. 2-6) the mourners are addressed. They are described as returningnbsp;from the dead, and they are to live to old age. They are also to benbsp;purified, and there is mention of dancing and merriment�whether thenbsp;reference be to a wake or to a joyous life in the future. These stanzas arenbsp;far from clear to us. Some act of ritual seems to be involved; a barrier isnbsp;set up, and Death�does this mean the tomb �is enclosed with a largenbsp;stone. In st. 7 the married women are told to go forward with spices. Innbsp;st. 8 the dead man�s widow, who is lying beside him, is told to rise ; shenbsp;has entered into matrimony with him who takes her hand�presumablynbsp;her husband�s brother. In st. 9 the dead man�s bow is taken from hisnbsp;hand, and wishes are expressed for the success of the survivors. Thenbsp;following stanzas contain an invocation to Earth not to press too heavilynbsp;upon him, but to wrap him as a mother. There are references to proppingnbsp;up the earth and to a �pillar� which the Fathers are invoked to hold up.^

The last book of the Rgveda also contains two poems (x. 173 f.) belonging to this category but relating to a very different occasion, viz.nbsp;a political ceremony. The first of these� is the proclamation of a king.nbsp;Various deities�Indra, Soma, Brhaspati, Varuna and Agni�are invoked ; but the poem is not so much a prayer as a declaration and exhortation to the new king to maintain his authority firmly. The next poemnbsp;(x. 174) looks rather like a sequel to this. It is a declaration by a king,nbsp;apparently one who has just been proclaimed. He invokes Brahmanas-pati for success in resisting his enemies. In the last stanza he makes usenbsp;of much the same phraseology as we met with in x. 159, saying that henbsp;is now without rivals, his rivals slain, triumphant, so that he shall havenbsp;rule over his people. Possibly the phraseology originated in speechesnbsp;designed for such occasions as this.

� This poem deserves more attention than it has received from those who are interested in the funeral practices of ancient Europe. Possibly in certain points they would be inclined to suggest a somewhat different interpretation from what is givennbsp;by Vedic scholars. The native scholastic tradition in this case is of doubtful value,nbsp;because this kind of burial seems to have been given up at an early date.

The Atharvaveda contains a good number of poems corresponding to both the groups just noticed. Funeral hymns occupy the whole ofnbsp;Book XVIII. These are to a large extent variants of the hymns in thenbsp;Rgveda; but the order of the stanzas is different, stanzas from differentnbsp;hymns are brought together, and many new stanzas are added.

Poems intended for political occasions, especially the proclamation of a king, are numerous. A variant to Rgv. x. 173 occurs in vi. 87 f., wherenbsp;it is divided into two poems. Other examples of the same type are to benbsp;found in iii. 4 and iv. 8. Here also we may mention appeals to Indra,nbsp;Agni and other gods to uphold and protect a new king; such are i. 9, 30,nbsp;IV. 22, VI. 5, 54, VII. 35, XIX. 24, and perhaps vii. 78. In in. 3 special circumstances seem to be implied; the poem is apparently a proclamation ofnbsp;a king who is in exile, and an invitation to him to return. In this seriesnbsp;we may also include iii. 5, in which a man, who seems to be a king,nbsp;binds upon himself an amulet in order to secure success, long life andnbsp;the obedience of his subjects. This is no doubt properly to be regardednbsp;as a spell, though it is not intended for any specific purpose.

There are one or two other poems, which may belong to � coming of age� ceremonies, rather than the assumption of office. Such is the casenbsp;perhaps with i. 35, in which the speaker invests a man with an amulet ofnbsp;gold, in order to secure for him long life, valour and the fulfilment of hisnbsp;wishes from the gods.^ A more certain example is to be found in ii. 13,nbsp;where a man�evidently a youth�is invested with a new robe. Henbsp;stands upon a stone for the ceremony; and Agni and the gods are invoked to protect him and grant him long life and success. The ceremonynbsp;is described in later literature. Another kind of initiation seems to benbsp;implied in vi. 133, which is evidently intended for the ceremony ofnbsp;investing with a sacred girdle.

Other poems seem to be designed for a ceremony corresponding somewhat to our Christening, though we do not know whether it wasnbsp;accompanied by the giving of a name. In ii. 28 Mitra, Varuna, Agni andnbsp;other gods are invoked to protect the child and to bring him to old age.nbsp;In VI. 76 the company are described as sitting round the child, and a firenbsp;for sacrifice to Agni is burning. It is stated in gnomic form that thenbsp;child of a Kshatriya, who is protected by Agni, will not fall into danger.nbsp;In VI. 110 Agni is again invoked to grant long life to a child. This childnbsp;was born on the �Tiger�s Day��a reference to astrology. He willnbsp;therefore be a hero ; but he must not wound his father or disregard hisnbsp;mother.

� There are a number of spells for use at such investitures; cf. xix. 26, 28-33.

For use at weddings a benedictory poem is to be found in vi. 78. The bridegroom is to treat his wife kindly and honourably. Tvashtr hasnbsp;made them for one another; let him grant them long life. In vii. 36 therenbsp;is a poem consisting of one stanza, expressing a wish for mutual lovenbsp;and harmony. According to tradition it was to be pronounced by bothnbsp;the bride and bridegroom, when they have anointed each other�s eyes.nbsp;This is followed by another poem of one stanza (vii. 37), to be pronounced by the bride, when she robes the bridegroom. It is in the formnbsp;of a spell, for the purpose of keeping him wholly devoted to her.

Lastly, note may be taken of two poems which are evidently intended for ceremonies at the opening of a new house. In iii. 12 the house itselfnbsp;is first addressed. It is to stand firm and be rich in horses, cattle andnbsp;children. In st. 4 various deities are invoked for prosperity. Then (st. 5)nbsp;an appeal is made to the � Queen of the home�, apparently a deity, andnbsp;after this an appeal to the roof-tree. In st. 8 the lady of the house isnbsp;summoned to treat the guests. Then water is brought �to kill Consumption�, and the speaker enters �with Agni� to take possession. Anbsp;longer poem upon the same subject is to be found in ix. 3. This is ofnbsp;great archaeological interest; but the detailed description of the buildingnbsp;presents a good number of difficulties, which we have not the knowledgenbsp;to deal with. In the main it is addressed to the house, though thenbsp;protection of Agni and other deities is invoked incidentally.

It will have been seen that several of the poems referred to above are really spells, quite similar to those which will require notice in the nextnbsp;chapter. Many others have in part, sometimes even wholly, the form ofnbsp;spells, though it seems to us uncertain how far they were intended fornbsp;use as such. For similar expressions are in use among ourselves withoutnbsp;any such meaning. Poems of Type D relating to social ritual wouldnbsp;appear to be largely derived from spells; but it is difficult to determinenbsp;at what point exactly the formula ceases to be intended as a spell.

In the Br�hmanas and Upanishads we have not noted any poetry of this type, though such may occur. But the directions used throughoutnbsp;the former�e.g. �it should be recited�, and even �he recites��seemnbsp;properly to belong here. There is a close connection with spells, as willnbsp;be seen in the next chapter.

We do not know of any narratives in the earlier literature which can be assigned with confidence to this category. We shall therefore takenbsp;our illustrations for Type A and Type C (CA) from the Mahabharata.

beings seem to be rare. Those we have noticed are quite brief and simple. An example occurs in a speech of Vidura to Dhrtar�shtra in v. Ixiv.nbsp;Two birds are caught in a net, but manage to fly up into the air, carryingnbsp;the net with them. The fowler, who has set the net, gives chase; and anbsp;seer, who happens to be at hand, asks him why he does so�the implication being that his quest is futile. The fowler replies that they havenbsp;taken his net by united action; but as soon as they quarrel they willnbsp;come under his control. This soon happens; they fall to the ground andnbsp;he catches them. The story belongs to Type C; it is told to inculcate anbsp;moral, the danger of disunion, as explained in the following stanzas.nbsp;Vidura is trying to make the king exert his authority to prevent his sonsnbsp;from going to war against their cousins.^

We have not come across any examples of Type A�the narrative without a moral; but there is no reason for doubting that such storiesnbsp;were current. In iii. Ixvii Nala, transformed and disguised, comes tonbsp;the court of King Rtuparna and is engaged to take charge of his horses.nbsp;But every night he bemoans in verse the loss of his wife, wonderingnbsp;what has become of her. When one of the grooms questions him aboutnbsp;his poetry, he replies: �A certain man of little intelligence had a wifenbsp;who was greatly esteemed; but his own word was not sufficiently tonbsp;be depended upon. For some reason this foolish man came to benbsp;separated from her... �, and then in a few words, without giving hisnbsp;name, he depicts what has really happened to himself. The form usednbsp;here points to derivation from timeless nameless stories of Type A�nbsp;perhaps folktales�which must have been current when this narrativenbsp;was composed.

In the didactic portions of the Mahabharata there are some longer stories of Type C, which are almost without names. In iii. ccv if. wenbsp;have an account of an irascible Brahman, who by his anger�actingnbsp;apparently as a curse, though no words are mentioned�causes thenbsp;death of a crane. His name is given as Kau�ika;� but we do not knownbsp;whether anything is recorded of him elsewhere. After this he goes to anbsp;house to beg and becomes extremely angry with the wife of the householder, because she waits upon her husband before attending to him.nbsp;The lady tells him he ought to control his anger, and advises him to visitnbsp;a fowler in the city of Mithil�, who is very learned and has his feelings

� Another didactic story, likewise told by Vidura, is that of the (nameless) Brahman who fell into a pit (xi. v). This is wholly allegorical and contains very little narrative; but it shows clearly enough that the principle was known.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 569 under control. He takes her advice and finds the fowler�who is reallynbsp;a butcher�to be a man of great learning and holy life, although henbsp;belongs to the lowest (��dra) caste. After a long discourse the fowlernbsp;explains to him (ccxiv. 21 If.) that he had himself been a Brahman in anbsp;previous life, but he had been condemned to be reborn as a ��dra bynbsp;the curse of a seer, whom he had unwittingly shot in the form of a deer.nbsp;In this story the only persons mentioned by name are the Brahman andnbsp;Janaka, king of Mithil�, to whose good government the fowler refersnbsp;incidentally; no names are given to the fowler himself or the householder and his wife.

In Vol. I, p. 434 ff., we saw that some of the stories and incidents which are related in heroic poetry are commonly believed to be derivednbsp;from timeless nameless stories, including folktales. In point of fact thenbsp;incident last mentioned, the shooting of a seer in the form of a deer andnbsp;the curse arising therefrom, has a close parallel in i. cxviii, where P�ndunbsp;is cursed with loss of progeny by a seer�s son whom he has shot in thenbsp;form of a deer. We have no heroic stories of P�ndu himself�thisnbsp;passage is clearly non-heroic�but he is the father of Yudhishthira,nbsp;Bhima and Arjuna.

To the story of Beowulf�s encounter with Grendel the Mah�bh�rata presents a rather close parallel in i. clix If. Bhima and his mother Kuntinbsp;are staying in disguise, during their exile, at the house of a Brahman;nbsp;and there they hear great lamentation. Kunti learns from the Brahmannbsp;that the town is terrorised by a cannibal R�kshasa, named Vaka, who hasnbsp;to be supplied by each household in turn with an offering of a cartloadnbsp;of rice, two bullocks and the person who brings the offering. Now thenbsp;turn of his house has come. First he offers to go, then his wife, andnbsp;afterwards his daughter offer to take his place; but Kunti persuades himnbsp;to let Bhima, who is enormously strong, go instead. Bhima sets outnbsp;with the food to the place appointed, which is in a forest, shouts for thenbsp;R�kshasa to come, and then sits down and proceeds to eat the foodnbsp;himself. The R�kshasa arrives in great fury, storms at Bhima and strikesnbsp;him; but Bhima takes no notice until he has finished the food. Then theynbsp;tear up trees and pitch them at one another, and after that fall to wrestling.nbsp;Eventually Bhima breaks the R�kshasa�s back. His relatives andnbsp;followers assemble, but Bhima cows them all. Then he carries off thenbsp;R�kshasa�s body, and lays it down at one of the town gates. In thenbsp;morning all the townspeople gather to see it, wondering who has donenbsp;the deed. It may be observed that Vaka is somewhat more human thannbsp;Grendel. He seems to be the head of a community; and both he and

his people can speak. Elsewhere in the Mahabharata, especially perhaps in the battle scenes in Book vii, it is very difficult to resist the suspicionnbsp;that the term R�kshasa was applied to non-Aryan communities. Yetnbsp;there can be no doubt that in general the use of the word was equivalentnbsp;to that of Ang.-Sax. eoten and J)yrs (N. j�tunn and purs'), the genericnbsp;terms for such creatures as Grendel.

The story of Bhima�s fight with Vaka belongs obviously to a class of stories which is widespread and familiar enough, especially in folktales.nbsp;Two or three points, however, deserve notice. In the first placenbsp;practically no names occur except those of Bhima, Kunti and Vaka.nbsp;Yudhishthira and his other brothers do try to dissuade the hero fromnbsp;the adventure; but they are in no way essential to the story. No namesnbsp;are given to the Brahman and his family. Secondly, the incident has nonbsp;bearing on the story of Bhima and his brothers as a whole. Thirdly,nbsp;the story is immediately preceded by that of Bhima�s encounter withnbsp;another cannibal R�kshasa, called Hidimba. The two incidents are innbsp;general not unlike. But the adventure with Hidimba (i. cliv-vii) hasnbsp;some bearing upon the story of Bhima and his brothers as a whole; fornbsp;Hidimba�s sister Hidimba bears to Bhima a son, Ghatotkaca, who subsequently plays a rather important part in the great battle. These considerations seem to us to suggest that the adventure with Vaka was notnbsp;an original, or even an early, element in the story�that on the contrarynbsp;it was introduced, whether as a variant or not, through the influence ofnbsp;the incident with Hidimba.

It would seem that in the case of Bhima�and the same may well be true of Beowulf and Grettir�one story of adventure with demons lednbsp;to another. A third incident of the same kind occurs in iii. clvii, wherenbsp;Bhima kills a R�kshasa called Jat�sura, who has carried off Yudhishthira,nbsp;Draupadi and Nakula. The description of the actual fight is very similar;nbsp;no weapons are used, and the business is settled by wrestling. Elsewhere,nbsp;however, especially in fights with heroes, Bhima uses the ordinarynbsp;weapons, bow and sword, as well as a club, and drives in a chariot.nbsp;Indeed in iii. clx he kills a chief of R�kshasa with his club and many ofnbsp;his followers with arrows. But even in heroic warfare he is sometimesnbsp;guilty of savagery, as in viii. Ixxxiii, when he drinks the blood ofnbsp;Duhshasana,^ whose head he has just cut off.

Heroes like Bhima and Beowulf, whose chief characteristic is physical strength, seem to be specially liable to attract folktales and other time-

� One is tempted to think of Hr�lfs Saga Kraka, cap. 35. But there is historical record of such doings in human warfare; cf. Ammianus Marcellinus, xxxi. 16. 6.

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 571 less nameless stories of a somewhat crude kind. But we suspect thatnbsp;many of the incidents recorded of other heroes and also of seers are ofnbsp;similar origin. Such derivation is of course seldom capable of proof ;nbsp;but we may cite as a likely instance the story related in i. ccxviii f.nbsp;Arjuna dives into a sacred pool, which is haunted by crocodiles. One ofnbsp;them assails him ; but he drags it out, and it thereupon becomes a beautifulnbsp;damsel. She explains to him that she and her companions are Apsarasas,nbsp;who have been turned into crocodiles by the curse of a Brahmannbsp;whom they had tempted. They were to remain in this form for a hundrednbsp;years. N�rada had advised them to come to this sanctuary and toldnbsp;them that Arjuna would deliver them at the end of the century. It maynbsp;be observed that the names of the Apsarasas are given, though not thatnbsp;of the Brahman.

There can be no doubt that the Mah�bh�rata contains an enormous amount of fiction. But it is not clear to us how far the �art of fiction� isnbsp;developed. Some of the most incredible stories relate to persons, like thenbsp;seer Vasishtha or King Somaka, the son of Sahadeva, whose historicity isnbsp;not to be doubted, while very many of them are concerned with charactersnbsp;well known from other stories. The question is whether the Mahabharata knows the modern type of fiction, complete both in plot and personnel�a type which in Greece can be traced back to perhaps the sixthnbsp;century (b.c.); cf. Vol. i, pp. 433 f., 444. It has been held, we believe,nbsp;that the story of S�vitri (iii. ccxcii ff.) belongs to this type; but the factnbsp;that some of the chief characters figure in a wholly different connectionnbsp;(cf. p. 521) renders this view improbable.^ At all events the Mahabharata in general shows little enough affinity with the modern world, ornbsp;even with sixth-century Greece, which may be regarded as in some sensenbsp;its beginning or precursor. It clearly belongs to a different phase; in thenbsp;heroic elements its affinities lie with the Homeric and the Anglo-Saxonnbsp;heroic poems, while the best analogies for the non-heroic elements arenbsp;to be found perhaps in the Mabinogion. Indeed the characteristics whichnbsp;distinguish post-heroic poetry in Europe seem to be wanting in ancientnbsp;India.

As an appendix to this chapter we ought perhaps to add a word about stories relating to animals, which are numerous in the Mah�bh�rata.nbsp;Stories dealing with animals for their own sake, e.g. as illustrating thenbsp;characteristics of the species, belong properly to a separate category,

� We think that the affinities of the story are to be sought rather in the story of Alcestis than in Stesichoros� romances.

and in principle no doubt ought to be treated as such. But in the great majority of the instances contained in the Mahabharata the animalnbsp;stories are introduced for the purpose of illustrating some moral bearingnbsp;upon human relations. Usually they belong to Type CB rather thannbsp;CA, i.e. the speech element outweighs the narrative. As an example wenbsp;may take i. cxlii, where the minister Kanika is exhorting Dhrtar�shtranbsp;to employ an opportunist policy in his relations with his nephews. Thenbsp;greater part of his discourse consists of gnomes, somewhat in the spiritnbsp;of the Havamal (cf. p. 5 5 4 f.) ; but he illustrates his advice by the story ofnbsp;a jackal, who contrived to get a deer killed by a tiger with the help of anbsp;mouse, and then persuaded both the tiger and various other animals tonbsp;leave the carcase to him. The characteristics of the different species arenbsp;of course brought out in the discussion ; but it is not Kanika�s primarynbsp;object to give the king a lesson in natural history. It may be addednbsp;that discussions of this kind between animals occur not only in thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata, but also in the Upanishads, where also we find similarnbsp;discussions between the senses and inanimate objects.

The Mah�bh�rata, however, does occasionally introduce speeches by animals, in which no moral bearing upon human affairs is obvious. Annbsp;instance occurs in iii. cxcix, where the sons of P�ndu ask the aged seernbsp;Markandeya if there is anyone living older than himself. He replies thatnbsp;he had once been asked the same question by a royal seer named Indra-dyumna. The latter had first asked him if he (Markandeya) knew him;nbsp;and when he said he did not, he asked him if he knew anyone oldernbsp;than himself. He had replied that there was an owl in the Himalayasnbsp;older than himself, and he might know Indradyumna. The royal seer thennbsp;became a horse and carried Markandeya to the owl�s home. He askednbsp;the owl the same two questions. The owl said that he did not know him,nbsp;but that in a certain lake there was a crane, older than himself, who mightnbsp;know him. Then they made their way to the lake and asked the cranenbsp;the same questions, with the same results. The crane, however, referrednbsp;them to a tortoise, again older than himself, who remembered Indradyumna well. The lake in which he and the crane lived had been made bynbsp;the feet of the oxen which Indradyumna had given away to Brahmans atnbsp;his sacrifices. It may be observed that the animals have individualnbsp;names, which seem to be descriptive.

This incident has a special interest owing to its resemblance to a passage in the story of Culhwch and Olwen.^ King Arthur�s envoys arenbsp;searching for Mabon, son of Modron. First they come to the Ousel ofnbsp;' P. 133 ff. in Lady Charlotte Guest�s translation of the Mabinogion (Everyman).

POETRY RELATING TO UNSPECIFIED INDIVIDUALS 573 Cilgwri, who dwells upon the great length of time she has been there;nbsp;yet she does not know him. She knows, however, a race of animalsnbsp;created before her; so she takes them to the Stag of Rhedynfre. He alsonbsp;cannot answer the question; but accompanies them to an owl, which isnbsp;said to be still older. The owl takes them on to an eagle, which he saysnbsp;is the oldest and most travelled animal in the world. The eagle has heardnbsp;of Mabon, but takes them to a salmon for further information. It willnbsp;be seen that the questions in the two stories are not identical, and alsonbsp;that in the Welsh story there seems to be some confusion betweennbsp;species and individual, apart from obscurities in other respects. Yet innbsp;spite of all this the parallelism is sufficient to call for explanation. Wenbsp;would suggest that both stories are due to speculation in natural historynbsp;�on the question what animal lives to the greatest age. We may refernbsp;to a fragment attributed to Hesiod (fr. 207, Kinkel), in which the crow isnbsp;credited with a life nine times as long as a man, while the stag is said tonbsp;live four times as long as the crow, the raven three times as long as thenbsp;stag, etc.

Occasionally animals are individualised more clearly than in the passage discussed above. Apart from supernatural beings, like the birdnbsp;Garuda, the examples known to us are snakes. In iii. Ixvi the snakenbsp;Karkotaka calls to Nala to save him from a fire. He is unable to movenbsp;himself owing to a curse imposed upon him by N�rada. But the mostnbsp;interesting case is that of the snake which in iii. clxxviii ff. seizes Bhimanbsp;and threatens to eat him. He tells his victim that he is the ancient kingnbsp;Nahusha (cf. p. 498) and that he has been turned into a snake by thenbsp;curse of the sage Agastya. The curse is to remain operative until henbsp;finds someone who can answer his questions. Yudhishthira comes tonbsp;the rescue and answers the questions, viz. � Who can properly be callednbsp;a Brahman.^� and �What is it which ought to be knownHe thennbsp;proceeds to ask the snake further questions�at the end of whichnbsp;Nahusha is freed from the curse and liberates Bhima. It may be observednbsp;that the scene generally bears a certain resemblance to that of the Fafnis-mal, where SigurSr and the dying F�fnir question one another; but bothnbsp;the questions themselves and the circumstances are different. For thenbsp;power of a seer to transform a person into an animal (cf. p. 571) goodnbsp;parallels are to be found in the Mabinogi of Math. In this story indeed,nbsp;just as in many parts of the Mahabharata, the power of the seer seems tonbsp;have no limits.

IN Vol. I, Ch. XV, we included under �Mantic Poetry� prophecies, spells and certain Welsh and Irish compositions of a mysticalnbsp;character��declarations of bardic wisdom��which have somenbsp;affinities with these genres, but seem not to belong properly to either ofnbsp;them. It was observed that in the ancient literatures of the West,nbsp;especially Greek and Norse, prophecy�or rather prophetic knowledgenbsp;�relating to the future is not regarded as essentially different fromnbsp;knowledge of the past and the present which is derived from revelationnbsp;or vision. It was also observed that prophecy and spell are not so remotenbsp;from one another as they seem to be at first sight; the gap between thenbsp;two genres is largely bridged over by blessings and curses.

Early Indian literature has preserved spells in great abundance; but prophecies, relating to specified persons and events, seem to be rare andnbsp;late. On the other hand there is also a large amount of mystical literature,nbsp;corresponding more or less to the �bardic wisdom� of early Welsh andnbsp;Irish records. The history of this is much fuller and clearer than that ofnbsp;the same genre in the West, and is able, we think, to throw a good deal ofnbsp;light on the latter. Prose is in more general use than in the West ; but thenbsp;great majority of the spells are in poetry.

A number of spells are preserved in the Rgveda, especially the last book. Two of them have already been noticed among the timelessnbsp;nameless poems of Type B (cf. p. 562). In one, x. 145, a wife uses anbsp;plant, which she digs up, against her rival; and the spell is addressed tonbsp;the plant. In the other, x. 166, the speaker is a man, who likewise isnbsp;trying to get the upper hand of rivals; but no instrument seems to benbsp;used for the spell. Elsewhere also we find spells both with and withoutnbsp;the use of accessories, such as plants or amulets. One poem, x. 97, isnbsp;addressed to plants collectively, with a view to their power in banishingnbsp;disease; the speaker seems to be a physician. We may perhaps comparenbsp;with this the English �Nine Herbs Spell� (cf. Vol. i, p. 447); but different kinds of plants are not specified, as in the latter. On the othernbsp;hand in x. 163 there is no reference to any plant or other accessory. Thenbsp;speaker, who again seems to be a physician, enumerates all the various

575 parts of his patient�s body and repeats in each stanza the formulanbsp;�I drive away thy malady�.

Sometimes it is not clear whether a poem is to be regarded as a spell or a prayer. We may perhaps instance x. 15 5, a poem addressed to Ar�y�,nbsp;a spirit of distress, who is described as a one-eyed limping hag. The poetnbsp;tries to frighten her away, and bids her depart upon a floating log. Withnbsp;this may be compared x. 164, which seems to be addressed to a spirit ofnbsp;evil dreams, bidding him depart. But both these poems invoke Brah-manaspati and other deities.

Of all the spells preserved in the Rgveda the most interesting perhaps is VII. 55, part of which is also found, together with other stanzas, innbsp;the Atharvaveda, iv. 5. This is a spell for sending a household to sleep,nbsp;beginning�in the Rgveda version�with the dog. The Rgveda doesnbsp;not make it clear what the nocturnal visitor, who is the speaker, has innbsp;mind; but the Atharvaveda shows that he is a lover who is paying anbsp;clandestine visit to his lady.^

The Atharvaveda contains a very much larger number of spells than the Rgveda. Indeed the majority of the poems preserved in this collection are spells. Many of them are quite short. Parallels are to be foundnbsp;for most of the early spell-poems of the West; but the Atharvavedanbsp;covers a much wider range of subjects. It may be observed that spellsnbsp;not unfrequently contain invocations to deities. The distinction betweennbsp;spell and prayer seems not to be rigid.

Spells against diseases are perhaps the most numerous. Frequently these are addressed to some herb or amulet which was credited withnbsp;healing powers. As an example we may quote i. 23, which seems to benbsp;intended for a doctor or medicine man attending a case of leprosy:nbsp;�Thou wast born by night, thou black, dark and dusky herb. Rajani!nbsp;do thou colour this which is spotted and colourless. Make what isnbsp;spotted and colourless and discoloured vanish from here. Let thy ownnbsp;colour come upon thee.3 Make the white (spots) to fly away....� The

* The Rgveda version is transi, by E. J. Thomas, Vedic Hymns, p. in. This poem is of interest both for the study of variants and as illustrating the tendencynbsp;of Indian scholastic tradition to seek explanations in mythology or legend. Partnbsp;of the poem according to the latter is said to have been recited by the legendarynbsp;seer Vasishtha, when he came to visit Varuna to obtain food. The interpretationnbsp;given above is, we believe, accepted by the majority of modern scholars, but notnbsp;by all.

� Curcuma longa. There is a play of words between the name Rajan� and the word rajaya (�colour�), which immediately follows it.

3 This sentence is believed to be addressed not to the patient but, like the context, to the herb, which is here thought of as working within the man.

concluding words represent the object of the spell as accomplished, as in the spells of other peoples: �By the spell I have made the white disfigurement to vanish.�

With this may be compared another spell, 11.9, which is addressed to a herb or amulet^ called Da�avrksha. The case for which it is invokednbsp;would seem to be something in the nature of paralysis. We may quotenbsp;the first two stanzas: �Deliver this man, Da�avrksha, from the demonnbsp;Gr�hi, who has seized him in his joints, and raise him up. Lord of thenbsp;forest, to the world of the living.� The next stanza speaks of the patientnbsp;as cured: �He has arisen, arisen, and come to the company of the living.nbsp;He has become a father of sons and the most fortunate of men.�

Next we may note a spell, ii. 26, which seems to be intended for the recovery of straying cattle, a subject which is found also in Englishnbsp;spells (cf. Vol. I, p. 448): �Hither let them come, the cattle which havenbsp;been straying, in whose company V�yu� has taken pleasure. Tvashtrnbsp;knows their forms; may Savitr bring them back to this cow-pen.nbsp;Together let them stream to this cow-pen. Let Brhaspati, who knows allnbsp;things, lead them hither. Let Sin�val� lead hither the leader of their herd ;nbsp;and when they have arrived do thou, Anumati, bring them in.� It willnbsp;be seen that in this case a number of deities are invoked, directly or indirectly, while there is no reference to herbs or other such accessories.nbsp;Although the imperative is used for the cattle as well as the deities, thenbsp;spell approximates to a prayer; but this is of such general applicationnbsp;that it hardly amounts to more than the expression of a wish. The restnbsp;of the spell relates to prosperity in general.

Spells connected with agriculture are perhaps hardly as common as might be expected. As an example we may take vi. 142: �Spring up.nbsp;Barley, and become massive in thy bulk. Burst all the vessels. Let notnbsp;the thunderbolt of heaven smite thee. As we invoke thee, the barley,nbsp;the god who hearkenest, spring up like the heaven, unlimited as the sea.nbsp;Unlimited be the crops, unlimited the querns; unlimited be those whonbsp;give and those who eat.� This may be compared with an English spellnbsp;(cf. Vol. I, p. 446), which was employed against the bewitching of thenbsp;crops. Here also we may refer to a spell for abundant harvest (iii. 24),nbsp;and to the poem on the plough (iii. 17), mentioned on p. 559, above.

* According to ancient authorities it is an amulet made of ten kinds of holy wood (cf. Griffith�s note ad loc^�though this may possibly be only an etymologicalnbsp;guess (cf. da�a^ �ten�; vrksa, �tree�).

The Wind-god. The sentence is believed to mean that the cattle roamed as freely as the wind. The names which follow are those of deities.

A number of spells are love-charms. As an example we may take in. 25 : �Let the � Goader� goad thee on. Thou shalt have no rest uponnbsp;thy bed. Dread is the dart of Love; and with it I pierce thee in thenbsp;heart... .With a whip I drive thee hither, away from thy mother andnbsp;father, so that thou shalt be in my power and submit to my will. Mitranbsp;and Varuna, shatter the thoughts of her heart and, having made hernbsp;powerless, render her subject to my will.� It is not clear that the wordnbsp;uttudas (�Goader�) implies the use of any accessory here. But in somenbsp;similar spells (i. 34, ii. 30, vi. 102, and perhaps vi. 89) herbs or amuletsnbsp;are employed for the same purpose. Other poems of this kind (vi. 8, 9)nbsp;seem to be more in the nature of love-songs. Examples of spells to benbsp;used by a woman for securing the love of a man are to be found innbsp;VI. 132, 139, VI. 38�in all of which accessories are employed. We maynbsp;also refer here to certain spells (ii. 36, vi. 60, 82), the object of which isnbsp;to obtain a husband or wife.

There are also spells intended for various other occasions in human life. Some of these have been noticed in Ch. IX; for poems intended fornbsp;social festivals sometimes have the form of spells. Some of the poemsnbsp;on the blessing of a child and on the opening of a new house (cf. p. 566 f.)nbsp;may be regarded as belonging to either category. But there are othernbsp;poems which can be intended only as spells, e.g. i. ii, which is a spellnbsp;for the birth of a child. Possibly also we may include here a poem, m. 15,nbsp;which is in the form of a prayer to Indra, Agni and other deities fornbsp;success in a trading journey. This may be compared with the traveller�snbsp;speech noticed on p. 563. Spells for success in battle, combined withnbsp;invocations of Indra, are to be found in vi. 65-67, and to these may benbsp;added the invocations of the war-drum in v. 20 f., vi. 126. But the mostnbsp;interesting poems of this series perhaps are those which relate to gambling.nbsp;Three of these (vi. 118, vii. 50,109) have already been noticed (p. 563);nbsp;they are on the whole perhaps rather to be regarded as poems of Type Bnbsp;(BD), though they have the form of spells or invocations. Anothernbsp;(iv. 38) is an invocation to the Apsarasas to grant success at dice, andnbsp;may be intended for actual use. A fifth (ii. 2) is an invocation of thenbsp;Gandharva, who is here glorified in the highest terms, together withnbsp;the Apsarasas, who are said to be his wives. The object of the invocationnbsp;is not expressly stated.

Lastly, it may be observed that at least two of the poems relating to kings are in the form of spells. In ii. 5 a king appeals to an amulet to grant him protection and success. In i. 29, which is a variantnbsp;of Rgv. X. 174 (cf. p. 565), there are likewise references to the use

It is hardly necessary to give illustrations from other works. Spells for specific purposes occur occasionally in the Br�hmanas' and morenbsp;frequently in the Upanishads. But in the former the great bulk of thenbsp;matter might perhaps be regarded as coming under this head; for thenbsp;ritual is treated throughout as possessing a magical property as well as anbsp;mystical significance, while the words of the hymns themselves are oftennbsp;interpreted in a (mystical) sense which cannot have been intended bynbsp;their authors.

In the Upanishads spells are of rather more frequent occurrence; and occasionally the circumstances and accessories are described in greatnbsp;detail. As an example we may take Brhad�ranyaka vi. 3, a shorternbsp;variant of which is to be found in Ch�ndogya v. ii. 4 ff. If a man wishesnbsp;to attain greatness he is, first, to make certain preparations, which arenbsp;described more fully in the former work. These include a mixed potionnbsp;or mash, made of all kinds of herbs. In the former work the rite is tonbsp;be carried out at a time fixed by astrology, in the latter on the night of thenbsp;new moon. Then he pours ghee partly upon the fire, partly into thenbsp;mash, at the same time saying Sv�h� (�Hail�) to a series of things, onenbsp;after another. In Ch�ndogya the things enumerated are � the chief andnbsp;best� (breath ^), � the most excellent� (speech), � the basis � (eye), � success�nbsp;(ear), �the abode� (mind); but in Brhad�ranyaka the list is much longer,nbsp;including not only these but also Fire, Earth, Heaven, the Past, thenbsp;Future, etc. Then (in Brhad�ranyaka) he addresses the mash, describingnbsp;its various properties�it is burning, firm, bright, powerful, food, light,nbsp;etc. After this he eats the mash, addressing it with solemn words, whichnbsp;differ in the two works. In Brhad�ranyaka they consist of quotationsnbsp;from the Rgveda, invoking blessings from rivers, plants, air, cattle, etc.nbsp;Then he sits down behind the fire or altar. The Ch�ndogya adds thatnbsp;if he dreams that he sees a woman he may know that his sacrifice hasnbsp;been successful. The rite seems to be similar in principle to the imhasnbsp;forosnai ascribed to Irish filid (cf. Vol. i, p. 659). We may also refer tonbsp;the cauldron of Caridwen (ib. p. 103 f.). It may be observed that innbsp;Brhad�ranyaka this spell is followed by a number of others.

� A very interesting example occurs in Ait. Br. in. 22; but we find the quotations, as usual, difficult to understand.

� These identifications are given in the preceding section. In Brhad�ranyaka they are given in the spell itself, but are differently distributed��the most excellent� isnbsp;breath, �success� is the eye, etc.

In the Kaushitaki Upanishad, n. 3, there is a description of a somewhat similar proceeding. Here the things (called � deities �) invoked with Sv�h� are speech, breath, eye, ear, mind and knowledge�most ofnbsp;which are included also in the above lists. There is no mash, but onlynbsp;offerings of ghee. It is stated that when the man has inhaled the smokenbsp;and rubbed himself with the ghee, he is to depart in silence and declarenbsp;his wish or send a messenger; and he will obtain his wish. The nextnbsp;section describes what is to be done by a man who wishes to becomenbsp;dear to any man or woman. The proceeding is almost the same; but henbsp;says: �I offer thy speech (ear, etc.) in myself; Sv�h�.� Then he is tonbsp;depart in silence and try to come in contact with�or let the wind carrynbsp;his words to�the person whom he wishes to love him.

Spells are also mentioned incidentally in the Mah�bh�rata, though here they are less frequent than what are more properly to be regardednbsp;as curses. The latter will require notice below. For an example of thenbsp;spell proper we may refer to the story of Kunti, the mother of Yudhish-thira, related in in. cccii ff. Before her marriage, while she is still verynbsp;young, she waits upon a Brahman, who in reward for her servicesnbsp;teaches her a spell�apparently from the Atharvaveda�before henbsp;departs (ccciv, 16 ff.). The words of the spell are not given; but it isnbsp;said to have the power of bringing to her any of the gods whom shenbsp;may wish, even against his will. One day, while she is gazing at thenbsp;sun (cccv f.) she decides from youthful curiosity to try the efficacy ofnbsp;the spell. S�rya, the sun-god, immediately appears before her innbsp;majestic human form, and demands to be allowed to lie with her. Shenbsp;pleads that she has acted in childish ignorance; but he threatens to cursenbsp;her and her family, and eventually she consents. The result of the unionnbsp;is the birth of Karna, which is kept a secret throughout his life.

Prophecy in the ordinary sense of the word, i.e. as relating to specific future events, appears to be less frequent in ancient Indian literature thannbsp;in the West. In works of the earlier periods, the Vedas, Br�hmanas andnbsp;Upanishads, we have not noticed any examples. Such may occur; butnbsp;we do not think they can be very common.

In the Mah�bh�rata prophecies are not unknown, though they are not always easy to distinguish from blessings or curses. Thus, in the storynbsp;last referred to, the god S�rya describes to Kunti (iii. cccvi. 18 ff.) thenbsp;son whom she is to bear, and says that he will be a distinguished hero.nbsp;But he gives her no information as to his fate; so this is probably to benbsp;regarded as a blessing rather than a prophecy. Again, there are cases

which are perhaps equally capable of either interpretation, as in iii. XXV. 18, where the sage Markandeya tells Yudhishthira that after hisnbsp;exile he will recover his kingdom from the Kauravas. But there arenbsp;other passages, which can only be taken as prophecies. In iii. ccxcii f.nbsp;S�vitr� goes to look for a husband, and on her return home informs hernbsp;father that she has chosen Satyavat. The supernatural seer N�rada, whonbsp;is present, says that the chosen bridegroom has one defect, namelynbsp;that he will die within a year. Occasionally also we hear of propheciesnbsp;of the disastrous struggle which was to take place between the Kauravasnbsp;and the P�ndavas. In xi. viii. 34 f., the same N�rada is said to have foretold the struggle�a passage which is perhaps to be taken in connectionnbsp;with II. xxxvi. 19.^ In the Pur�nas, as we have seen (p. 540), the lists ofnbsp;kings are given largely in the form of prophecies�for which analogiesnbsp;are to be found in early Irish and Welsh records (cf. Vol. i, p. 462 f.).

Blessings and curses seem to be of much more frequent occurrence than prophecies. Invocations for blessings, whether upon individualnbsp;princes or upon the community in general, are to be found everywherenbsp;in the Rgveda. In the Atharvaveda also we find blessings of a generalnbsp;character, especially for long life, intended for use in festivities celebrating the birth of a child. But here we would call attention to blessingsnbsp;of more or less specific reference which, as we noted in Vol. i (p. 473),nbsp;may be regarded either as spells or as prophecies which carry with themnbsp;their own fulfilment. Two examples, which are hardly distinguishablenbsp;from prophecies, have been noticed above. Another, which may benbsp;regarded either as a spell or a prophecy, occurs in iii. ccxcii, where thenbsp;goddess Savitri arises from the altar and announces to King A�vapatinbsp;that, as a reward for his piety, a daughter will soon be born to him. Anbsp;somewhat similar but more curious case is to be found in the story ofnbsp;the sacrifice offered by the two Brahmans on behalf of King Drupadanbsp;(i. clxix), which resulted in the birth�if such it can be called�ofnbsp;Drshtadyumna and Draupadi. We may also note here the promise givennbsp;(in V. clxxxix) to Amb� by the god Rudra (�iva), that she should benbsp;re-born and become a man.

The evidence for curses is similar. In the Atharvaveda, v. 17-19, we find curses of general reference upon those who take a Brahman�s wife ornbsp;a Brahman�s cow. To speak more precisely, these poems are pronounce-

� Elsewhere we find more specific and detailed prophecies of the battle, as in V. cxliii where Karna has full knowledge of what is to take place and declares tonbsp;Krshna who will be slain and who survive. Such passages are doubtless merelynbsp;summaries of the following narrative, given in the form of prophecy; but theynbsp;may be taken as showing that prophecy was widely recognised.

ments of the evils which will befall those who perpetrate or allow such outrages. Curses upon demons, wizards and diseases are fairly common.nbsp;In the Mah�bh�rata curses upon specified human beings are of frequentnbsp;occurrence. Sometimes they are of a general character, as in i. iii. 10,nbsp;where the divine dog Saram� curses Janamejaya and his brothers fornbsp;beating her son. Sometimes the nature of the curse is precisely specified,nbsp;as in HI. x. 30 ff., where the seer Maitreya declares to Duryodhana thatnbsp;in the war which the latter is bringing about Bhima will break his thighnbsp;with a club. This is to be regarded as a curse rather than merely anbsp;prophecy; for the seer has been angered by an insult. Moreover whennbsp;Dhrtar�shtra begs him to avert the curse, he says it will not take effect ifnbsp;Duryodhana makes peace with the P�ndavas. A similar case occursnbsp;in VIII. xlii. 39 ff., where Karna relates how he had shot a Brahman�s calf.nbsp;The Brahman then declared that when Karna was engaged in battle hisnbsp;chariot-wheel should sink into the ground and he should be overcomenbsp;with fear�as actually took place in the great battle. In this case thenbsp;Brahman refused to withdraw the curse, though he was offered greatnbsp;rewards if he would do so. In these instances, it will be seen, the cursenbsp;comes into operation only in the future. In others, however, it takesnbsp;effect at once, and consequently has the form of a spell rather than anbsp;prophecy. We may cite the story of King Kalm�shap�da, related innbsp;I. clxxviii. He strikes the seer �aktri, son of Vasishtha, because he refuses to stand aside for him; and the seer in anger curses him so that henbsp;becomes a cannibal from that day. Here also we may refer to the storynbsp;of P�ndu, as told in i. cxviii. He shoots a stag while it is mating; butnbsp;the stag proves to be a seer in disguise and lays upon him the cursenbsp;which brings about his death. Such spell-curses are not the exclusivenbsp;property of seers. In iii. Ixiii ad. fin., Damayant� curses a hunter whonbsp;has insulted her; and he immediately falls down dead.

Supernatural beings, as well as men, are subject to curses. In i. ccxviii five Apsarasas are cursed by a Brahman for mocking and tempting him.nbsp;They are turned into crocodiles for a hundred years, until they arenbsp;rescued by Arjuna from their plight. So also in i. xcvi, the divine Vasavasnbsp;tell Gang� (the Ganges personified) that they have been cursed by thenbsp;seer Vasishtha and condemned to be born as men. At their request shenbsp;consents to become the wife of ��ntanu and to bear them to him asnbsp;her children. As soon as each child is born, she throws it into thenbsp;Ganges.

It was pointed out in Vol. i, pp. 451 ff., 473, that the ancient peoples of the West did not clearly distinguish between prophecy, i.e. fore-

knowledge and foretelling, relating to the future and �prophecy�, in the sense of mantic knowledge and declaration, relating to the past and thenbsp;present. Both faculties are possessed by the same persons, whethernbsp;human seers or supernatural beings ; and often the same terms are usednbsp;for both. It is clear from the Mahabharata and the Pur�nas that thenbsp;same remark applies also to ancient India. These works, which arenbsp;largely or mainly concerned with the study of the past, claim to havenbsp;been composed by ancient seers, Vy�sa and others. In the form innbsp;which we have them they cannot of course be of great antiquity; butnbsp;there can be little doubt that much of the tradition and speculation theynbsp;contain must have had a long history.

The works, however, which have been preserved in early form, the Vedas, Br�hmanas and Upanishads, are little concerned with the studynbsp;of the past, apart from cosmogony. The chief interest of the Vedicnbsp;schools, as shown in the Br�hmanas and Upanishads, evidently lay innbsp;mysticism, relating in the former to the ritual of sacrifice, in the latter tonbsp;the problems of human existence. This mysticism may be traced even innbsp;the Rgveda, in certain poems which deal with cosmogony. Thus in x. 90nbsp;we hear of a vast primeval �man� �puritsa), who was put to death by thenbsp;gods, and from portions of whom the moon, sun, sky, earth, etc. werenbsp;made. For this we have an analogy in the Grfmnismal (cf. Vol. i, p. 321).nbsp;But the Rgveda poem represents the slaying as a sacrifice i�a featurenbsp;upon which it clearly lays great stress. It says that the ghee of thisnbsp;sacrifice was spring, the fuel summer, and the offering autumn. Again,nbsp;it says that the Vedic hymns and metres were born from this sacrifice.nbsp;These and other passages suggest that the author�s interest lay not sonbsp;much in the origin of the world�as is the case in x. 129 (cf. p. 549)�asnbsp;in that of sacrifice. There are inconsistencies, however, which may perhaps point to changes or additions. As it stands the poem is generallynbsp;believed to be one of the very latest in the collection. St. 12 is the onlynbsp;passage in the Rgveda which mentions the four castes.

It is beyond our power to deal with the mysticism of the Br�hmanas. The early literatures of the West preserve hardly anything analogousnbsp;to these works. In the north of Europe at all events we know far toonbsp;little of the ritual of sacrifice to determine how far mysticism wasnbsp;associated with it, though it can hardly have been entirely wanting.nbsp;Perhaps it will be sufficient to repeat here that the ritual, which forms

� Snorri, Gylfaginning, cap. 8, says that Ymir was slain by the gods, and this is perhaps implied in the Grlmnism�l itself; but none of the records suggest that thenbsp;act was regarded as a sacrifice. It would, however, be unwise, in view of the scantiness of these records, to lay much stress upon this.

583 the staple subject of the Br�hmanas, is interpreted throughout in anbsp;mystical sense. The same remark is often true of the quotations from thenbsp;Vedas and even the use of the metres. As an illustration of the latternbsp;we may quote from a passage in the Aitareya Br�hmana, i. 5 : � Brhatinbsp;verses should he use who desires prosperity and glory; the Brhati isnbsp;prosperity and glory among the metres.... Tristubh verses should henbsp;use who desires strength; the Tristubh is force, power and strength...nbsp;It will be seen that, although we cannot cite precise European parallels,nbsp;the phase of thought is the same as in the Sigrdrifumal, st. 6 ff. (cf. Vol. i,nbsp;p. 449 f.), where the use of Runic letters is specified for various purposes :nbsp;�Thou shalt know Sigr�nar (�Runes of victory�), if thou wilt havenbsp;victory, and thou shalt inscribe them on the hilt of thy sword... . Thounbsp;shalt know Brimr�nar (�Runes of the sea�), if thou wilt have �sailingsteeds� (i.e. ships) protected on the sea,� etc.

There are two features, however, in the mysticism of the Br�hmanas, which can hardly be passed over. The chief deity is Praj�pati (�Lord ofnbsp;offspring�), a god who is not often mentioned in the Rgveda, though innbsp;one hymn (x. 121) he is said to be the creator of the world and supremenbsp;god. But in the Br�hmanas he is not only regarded as the chief deity; henbsp;is also identified with the victim of sacrifice and with the sacrifice itself.nbsp;He has therefore something in common with the �Man� of x. 90, discussed above, and is actually identified with him in several passages innbsp;the Br�hmanas. In addition to Praj�pati we have to take account of thenbsp;conception called brahma.^ This word originally meant �prayer� ornbsp;�spell�; but in the Br�hmanas it is commonly used in the sense of�holynbsp;power�.3 In course of time this conception came to be personified, andnbsp;the form of the word was changed from brahma (neuter) to Brahmanbsp;(masculine); and the new deity eventually became identified withnbsp;Praj�pati. But in the works of which we are now speaking this lastnbsp;change has not yet taken place, though the personal Brahma is mentioned occasionally in the later Br�hmanas.'^

� Rigveda Brahmanas, transi, by A. B. Keith, p. i to. Brhati and Tristubh are two of the Vedic metres.

� We use this form (which is the nom. sing.) instead of brahman (which is the stem of the word) in order to avoid any possible confusion with the term for priest.

3 Often contrasted with ksatra, �lordly power�, in which case the two words denote the �properties� of the Brahman caste and the Kshatriya (princely) castenbsp;respectively. The transi, �holy power� and �lordly power� are those of Keith.

lt; E.g. Kaushitaki Br�hmana, xv. 2; but here Brahma is identical with Brah-manaspati or Brhaspati (�Lord of prayer�), a personification (deity) which is often mentioned in the Rgveda. The later personification (Brahma) cannot be whollynbsp;independent of this earlier one.

The Upanishads are concerned in the main not with the ritual of sacrifice, but with the problems of human existence. Much of what theynbsp;contain is philosophy; and with this we are no more qualified to dealnbsp;than we are with the Br�hmanas. But they belong to a much more widelynbsp;distributed class of literature, and cannot be passed over in a book likenbsp;this, however ill qualified we may be to treat of them. They have oftennbsp;been compared with the �Dialogues� of Plato; but we think that truernbsp;analogies are to be found in the early mantic literature of northernnbsp;Europe, noticed in Vol. i (p. 467 if. and elsewhere). Like the latter theynbsp;probably owe their preservation, if not their composition, largely tonbsp;educational use.

The Upanishads�at least the earlier ones, with which alone we are concerned�consist of enunciations of mystical lore in the form of seriesnbsp;of homilies, or lessons, varying in length and relating to such diversenbsp;subjects as sacrifice, the Vedas and their metres, the gods, especiallynbsp;Praj�pati or Brahma, the heavenly bodies and elements, and�perhapsnbsp;most frequent of all�the senses and organs of sense (breath, speech,nbsp;eye, ear, mind, etc.). Speeches and dialogues, consisting of questionnbsp;and answer, are frequently introduced. The speakers are sometimes men,nbsp;specified or unspecified, sometimes gods, sometimes the senses and othernbsp;animate or inanimate beings. Considerable portions of the longernbsp;Upanishads are occupied with dialogues among learned Brahmans ornbsp;between them and kings. Sometimes these debates are of a privatenbsp;nature, e.g. between a Brahman and a king, sometimes they take place atnbsp;great festival gatherings, at which the king has offered a prize fornbsp;superiority in wisdom. It is rather curious that in private discussions thenbsp;king not unfrequently proves to be wiser than the Brahman. In debatesnbsp;between Brahmans one speaker often threatens another that his headnbsp;will come off if he persists in a line of argument and fails to answernbsp;questions ; and in one case (Brhad. iii. 9. 26) this tragedy actually comesnbsp;to pass. How this happens is not stated but the context seems to makenbsp;it clear that it is dependent in some way upon the will of the man whonbsp;utters the threat�i.e. it is in the nature of a curse. We may refer to thenbsp;story of Kahoda � in the Mah�bh�rata cited on p. 504 f., where the unsuccessful competitors are drowned, and to the Norse and Greeknbsp;parallels noted on p. 503.

' �atapatha Br�hmana (vu. 6. 3. ii), which gives part of the same dialogue, is a little more explicit. Y�jnavalkya tells ��kalya that he shall die before such and such anbsp;day and that not even his bones shall come to his home. And so it came about; fornbsp;his bones were stolen by robbers, who mistook them for something else.

Certain Upanishads are connected with certain Br�hmanas. Thus the Brhad�ranyaka Upanishad is connected with�indeed it is the continuation of�the �atapatha Br�hniana, which is itself connected withnbsp;the White Yajurveda. And in general the connection between thenbsp;Upanishads and the Br�hmanas is very close. The Upanishads are notnbsp;concerned with directions for ritual. But they are much occupied withnbsp;mystical interpretations both of religious ceremonies and of the sacrednbsp;books (the Vedas) and their metres, though less so in the (human)nbsp;dialogues than elsewhere. And the cast of thought is �ecclesiastical�nbsp;throughout, such as could arise only from a training confined to hymnsnbsp;and ritual and speculations derived therefrom. Although the ecclesia s-ticism is less marked in the dialogues of sages than in the other portionsnbsp;of the Upanishads, it may be observed that many of the speakers arenbsp;mentioned also in Br�hmanas. Thus Y�jnavalkya, who is the most outstanding character in the Brhad�ranyaka, figures prominently in thenbsp;�atapatha Br�hmana; and he is also said to be the author (redactor) ofnbsp;the White Yajurveda. Udd�laka �runi and his son �vetaketu, Satya-k�ma J�b�la and Budila (Bulila) A�vatara ��vi, all of whom figure innbsp;either the Ch�ndogya or the Brhad�ranyaka or both, are cited asnbsp;authorities upon ritual usages in either the Aitareya or the Kaushitakinbsp;Br�hmanas. There can be little doubt therefore that both series of worksnbsp;spring from the same milieu.

The Upanishads are not concerned with moral or natural philosophy. Gnomes of either of the types distinguished above (p. 5 jo) are of rarenbsp;occurrence, unless one is prepared to recognise �mystic gnomes�, whichnbsp;might be said to occur everywhere. Observations of social or politicalnbsp;relations or of natural history are introduced only by way of analogy.nbsp;Indeed the wisdom of the Upanishads seems to be the outcome not ofnbsp;observation, but of meditation and speculation along traditional lines.

The discussions between sages are largely concerned with the terms brahma and �tm� {�tmari}. It is beyond our power to formulate�ornbsp;even to grasp�the conceptions denoted by these terms in the Upanishads. If we were to attempt to do so we should soon find ourselvesnbsp;entangled in the difficulties which brought about the tragic fate of thenbsp;ancient sages. We can only try to give some approximate impression ofnbsp;them in popular language. In the Br�hmanas, as we have seen, the wordnbsp;brahma usually means �holy power�; it also denotes the �property� of thenbsp;Brahmans, the holy caste. We might perhaps use the expressionnbsp;�religious power� or �religion�; but no deity is necessarily involved�nbsp;the �power� lies in the worship itself. The development of meaningnbsp;would seem to be as follows: (i) (specific) prayer or spell; (ii) religious

or'mantic procedure, worship; (iii) the power inherent in such procedure. In the Upanishads, however, the word hrahma seems to mean a power which pervades and comprehends the world and is itself self-existent (svayambhu). The development of this meaning� from �prayer�nbsp;or �spell� is not easy to follow; but it is to be borne in mind that the linenbsp;of thought is that of priests, who regarded their own functions andnbsp;activities as all-important. The conception of the god Praj�pati, who isnbsp;the chief deity and creator, as well as sacrifice, is to some extent parallel.nbsp;The word �tm� in the Rgveda usually means �breath�, like the corresponding forms in the related languages (Ang.-Sax. �^m, etc.). Butnbsp;later it comes to mean � soul, self� ; and we hear of an �tm� of the worldnbsp;even in the Atharvaveda, x. 8 (st. 44).

As an illustration of the doctrines enunciated in the discussions we may quote a passage which is repeated several times in Chand, vi. 8 ff.,nbsp;where Udd�laka Aruni is instructing his son �vetaketu. He enumeratesnbsp;a series of objects�rivers, trees, salt, etc.�and adds in each case: � Thatnbsp;which is the subtile essence, all that exists has this as its �tm�. It is thenbsp;True. It is the �tm�-, and you are it.� In the same Upanishad, vii. i if.,nbsp;we hear of persons who meditate on various things as brahma. The listnbsp;is as follows: name, speech, mind, will, thought, reflection, understanding, power, food, water, fire (heat), space, memory, hope, breathnbsp;(spirit). The benefits derived from each of these are noted; and it isnbsp;stated that each one is better than the one preceding�speech than name,nbsp;mind than speech, etc. Again, in Brhad. iv. i, Janaka of Videha tellsnbsp;Y�jnavalkya that he has been informed by one sage that speech isnbsp;brahma, by another that breath is brahma, while others have said thenbsp;same of sight, hearing, the mind and the heart. Y�jnavalkya in replynbsp;comments upon and amplifies all these statements, saying of the firstnbsp;brahma (speech) that speech itself is its abode, space its basis, and thatnbsp;one should worship it as knowledge; and he gives similar descriptions ofnbsp;the others. He regards the heart as the highest brahma, saying that thenbsp;heart itself is its abode, space its basis, and one should worship it as permanence. The following sections contain an exposition of Y�jnavalkya�snbsp;own philosophy. His favourite dictum, which recurs several times, isnbsp;that the �tm�is to be described by �No, no�, orquot;*!! is not� (this or that).

Apart from the catalogue form, which is found almost everywhere, the most characteristic feature of these utterances is the free play given

� Something of the kind seems to occur in the Atharvaveda, iv. i; but here brahma is identified with the god Brhaspati, who was probably an early personification of it (cf. p. 583, note).

587 to the imagination. We constantly meet with such statements as (Chand.nbsp;VI. 7. 6): �Mind consists of food, breath of water, speech of heat.�nbsp;Many of these sayings are doubtless derived from the traditional learningnbsp;inherited by the Upanishads. We may refer (e.g.) to the fantastic properties attributed to the Vedas, and more especially to the metres employed in them. So also the speculations which form the subjects of thenbsp;discussions are doubtless largely based upon earlier speculations, suchnbsp;as we find exemplified in the cosmogonic poems in the Rgveda (Book x)^nbsp;and the Atharvaveda, where also the same imaginative tendency isnbsp;frequently to be found. But the freedom allowed to this tendency in thenbsp;Upanishads, together with the fact that they are concerned with subjectsnbsp;upon which definite knowledge is unattainable, has led to the result thatnbsp;the dialogues are often in reality contests of skill in rhetoric�perhapsnbsp;we might say rhetorical gymnastics. We may cite (e.g.) the dialoguesnbsp;between Y�jnavalkya and G�rg� in Brhad. ill. 6, 8. Skill in dialectic wasnbsp;obviously much cultivated. The account of the contest between Asht�-vakra and Vandi in the Mah�bh�rata, iii. 134 (cf. p. 505)�in whichnbsp;each of the competitors has to name four groups of objects under eachnbsp;numeraU�may possibly be merely a travesty upon Brahmanicalnbsp;learning, though we see no reason for the necessity of such an interpretation. But at all events it shows how such learning was regarded innbsp;some quarters. We may also refer to another passage in the same work,nbsp;II. xxxvi. 3 if., where the discussions of the seers assembled at Yud-hishthira�s great sacrifice are noticed ; and it is stated that some made thenbsp;weaker arguments to appear stronger and the stronger argumentsnbsp;weaker. They were evidently regarded in much the same way as thenbsp;Greek Sophists.

Etymological speculation occurs not unfrequently in the Upanishads, as in the learned literature of other peoples. The word which seems tonbsp;have attracted most attention is satyam, �the true� (neuter). In thenbsp;Kaushitaki Upanishad, i. 6, we find even Brahma, the supreme deity,nbsp;propounding an etymology of this. Phonology, however, was morenbsp;cultivated by the Indians than by any other ancient people known to us;nbsp;and in the Upanishads it is applied to mystical purposes, with trulynbsp;fantastic results. The most remarkable examples are to be found in thenbsp;Aitareya �ranyaka, iii. 2. 2, 5.

* We may compare (e.g.) the opening sections of the Aitareya Upanishad with the cosmogonic hymn, Rgv. x. 90, noticed on p. 582.

� Vandi comes to grief in the thirteens. He can specify only two groups of thirteen. Ashtavakra completes the stanza by giving two more.

There is no special significance in the fact that the learning of the Upanishads tended to pass into rhetoric and pedantry. For this we havenbsp;parallels enough elsewhere. The remarkable element is the all-pervadingnbsp;mysticism, which penetrated into every detail, as in the case just noted.nbsp;In the Brhad�ranyaka, iv. 2. 2, Y�jnavalkya is represented as saying thatnbsp;�the gods love what is mysterious and dislike what is evident�. Andnbsp;this element must be taken in connection with the spells, the curses, andnbsp;the attention devoted to dreaming (as in Brhad. ii. i. 15 ff.; iv. 3. 7 if.,nbsp;etc.). The spells do not, like the two latter, occur in the discussions ofnbsp;sages; but in Brhad. vi. 3. 7 If. the long spell noticed on p. 578 is said tonbsp;have been taught by a number of sages, including Udd�laka �runi andnbsp;Y�jnavalkya. Each of these various sages is represented as saying thatnbsp;�if a man were to pour it on a dry stump, branches would grow andnbsp;leaves spring forth��a sentence which occurs elsewhere (Chand, v. 2.nbsp;3), apparently as an expression of high commendation.^

There can be no doubt then that both in itself and in its connections this philosophy is essentially mantic. Indeed in the �genealogies� included in the Brhad�ranyaka it is traced back to the gods.� What distinguishes the Upanishads from other ancient expositions of philosophynbsp;is their exclusively mantic and mystical character. The gnomic element,nbsp;as we have seen, is practically wanting. They are not concerned eithernbsp;with obligations, whether positive or negative, or with observations ofnbsp;human life or nature, except in so far as these can be interpreted in anbsp;mystical sense.3

It is obvious that this philosophy has much in common with the ancient European expositions of wisdom noticed in Vol. i. Both thenbsp;Norse and the earliest Greek examples contain mantic elements. In the

� In �at. Br. V. 5. 5. 14 it is stated that m^agic may be practised by a certain offering; and it is added that by this means Aruni bewitched Bhadrasena, son ofnbsp;Aj�ta�atru. It would seem then that the leading sage of his time cultivated witchcraft.

� These genealogies are introduced symmetrically after the second, fourth and sixth parts of the Upanishad. It is not clear to us whether in each case they apply tonbsp;all that has gone before, or only to some particular doctrine.

3 It is not to be assumed of course that this philosophy, though evidently much cultivated in the Vedic schools, was the only type current in ancient India. Muchnbsp;evidence to the contrary is to be found in the epics. We may note in particular thenbsp;uncompromisingly materialistic doctrine of J�b�li in the R�m�yana, ii. 108, thoughnbsp;it is doubtless introduced as sophistry. If J�b�li is to be identified with Satyak�manbsp;J�b�la, it is curious that the poet should have taken for this purpose the name of anbsp;man who seems to have been rather prominent in the Vedic schools, especially in thenbsp;Upanishads. But there were other seers of this name.

former especially these are important; and they are associated with other elements which are certainly mystical, though they cannot be interpreted satisfactorily. But in both Norse and Greek the manticism isnbsp;usually associated with gnomes of obligation. Closer analogies arenbsp;perhaps to be traced in early Irish and Welsh records; but here anynbsp;comparison is rendered difficult by the fact that, owing to textualnbsp;corruption and other difficulties, the interpretation of these, especiallynbsp;the latter, is possible at present only to a very limited extent. We havenbsp;also to take account of the fact that the records were not committed tonbsp;writing until these peoples had long been Christian, though thenbsp;�philosophy� itself was probably in large measure an inheritance fromnbsp;earlier times. It is clear enough at all events that the Irish and Britishnbsp;sages, the filid and the bards, shared the feelings of the Indian gods innbsp;their love of the mysterious and dislike of what is evident. There cannbsp;hardly be any doubt that they cultivated mysticism. Moreover some ofnbsp;the questions which are asked in the Welsh mystical poems seem to benbsp;rather similar to questions which are asked in the Upanishads. Indeednbsp;certain obscure passages seem rather to suggest a doctrine of transmigration^�which is always implied in the latter. On the other hand, thesenbsp;poems contain no gnomic elements, though gnomic poetry was cultivated in early Wales. In Ireland gnomic compositions are attributed tonbsp;filid, as well as to royal sages; but gnomic elements are not found, so farnbsp;as we know, in association with mantic compositions.

Perhaps the best analogy to the Upanishads is to be found in the Irish �Colloquy of the Two Sages� (cf. Vol. i, p. 467). At least it has thenbsp;advantage of being the best preserved and most intelligible of the compositions of this kind which are known to us. The milieu is mantic, and onenbsp;at least of the competitors is an adept in spells and curses. The dialoguenbsp;itself also is for the most part mystical in form. On the other hand it isnbsp;to be observed that the contest is really one of skill in the use of words�nbsp;rhetoric rather than philosophy. But we have seen that the Upanishadsnbsp;themselves frequently show a tendency in that direction. It is a tendencynbsp;which is not unnatural in a tradition which was essentially academic.

� Either transmigration (metempsychosis) or transformation during life; cf. Vol. I, p. 459. Evidence for metempsychosis is found in early Norse and Irishnbsp;records, as well as in notices relating to the ancient Gauls, but, so far as we know,nbsp;only in the form of the re-birth of one male (female) human being in another malenbsp;(female) human being. Stress must be laid upon the fact that our information on thisnbsp;subject, though definite enough, is very limited.

Upanishads belong is very widespread, though in Europe, owing to the change of faith and other circumstances, it is represented only by fragments which are at best only partly intelligible. It is to be hoped thatnbsp;further light may be thrown upon the Welsh and Irish records whennbsp;they have received more attention from those who are experts in thenbsp;languages. At all events the little that we know of the Druids ofnbsp;ancient Gaul suggests that they cultivated speculations of this kind�onnbsp;rerum natura and metempsychosis�apparently in some definite literarynbsp;(poetic) form. There is, so far as we know, no evidence for the manticnbsp;contest among them; but this is found, in one or other variety of manticnbsp;lore, in Britain, Ireland, Norway, Finland and Greece�in short where-ever any considerable traces of native (heathen) learning have beennbsp;preserved.

In Vol. I, p. 471, we described the Welsh and Irish compositions of which we have been speaking as � declarations of mantic lore � ; but theynbsp;are very near akin to prophecy. The Upanishads, both the speeches andnbsp;the rest of the matter, may, we think, be described as prophecy�notnbsp;relating to specific persons or events, and not relating to past, present ornbsp;future, but as � timeless nameless � prophecy. We can hardly apply thisnbsp;description to the Welsh and Irish compositions ; for in these the speaker,nbsp;who seems usually to be a seer, speaks in the first person. But thenbsp;difference is perhaps more apparent than real.

A word may be said here with regard to prophecy of general reference which relates definitely to the future. In the Irish �Colloquy� Ferchertne�s last speech describes at length the evils which are to comenbsp;at some future time�famine, lawlessness, moral depravity, disorganisation of society, etc. We have not seen any instances of this type in thenbsp;Vedas, Brahmanas or Upanishads; but they occur in the Mahabharata.nbsp;In III. clxxxviii and again ib. cxc the immortal seer Markandeya gives tonbsp;Yudhishthira a description of the Kali-K^Q, which rather closelynbsp;corresponds to Ferchertne�s speech even in details. The two passagesnbsp;(clxxxviii and cxc) would seem to be variants; and in both cases thenbsp;description is introduced with a short account of the Four Ages (cf.nbsp;p. 546). In the former version the Four Ages are treated as recurrentnbsp;phenomena, and the last of the four {Kali) ends in an elemental catastrophe, which is described in some detail; the world is destroyed bynbsp;fire and flood.�' But the second version is concerned only with the next

� In this version the catastrophe ends in a universal flood, perhaps suggested by the story of Manu, which immediately precedes it (iii. 187). Markandeya alone

591 coming Kali-k%Q in the future. In this case the elements seem to produce merely havoc, not complete destruction. It may be observed thatnbsp;the evil age of the Irish Colloquy leads up to the Day of Judgement,nbsp;though there is nothing particularly strange in that, since the work dates,nbsp;in its present form at least, from Christian times. But it is a muchnbsp;more curious fact that in the heathen V�luspa also the destruction ofnbsp;the world by fire and flood is preceded by a time of moral depravity.^nbsp;Here, however, the elemental catastrophe is part of the story ofnbsp;Ragnar�k.

Lastly, it may be added that �prophecy� of specific reference relating to the present is not unknown in the Mahabharata. Thus in iii. Ixxiinbsp;Rtuparna, who is a king, not a Brahman, has the faculty of instantaneousnbsp;counting; and he states correctly the number of leaves and fruits uponnbsp;a certain tree, which he passes in his chariot. This is the faculty by whichnbsp;the Greek seer Mopsos overcame and brought death to Calchas, hisnbsp;rival (cf. Vol. i, p. 474). We may note that Rtuparna�s faculty includesnbsp;calculation at dice and that he is able to transfer this to Nala in exchangenbsp;for the latter�s faculty of swift driving.

In spite of the comparative rarity of prophecy in the ordinary sense, i.e. as relating to the future, there can be no doubt as to the very greatnbsp;importance of manticism in general in the early history of Indiannbsp;literature. In the above short sketch it has been possible only to touchnbsp;upon a few points. There is one question, however, which perhapsnbsp;ought not to be passed over wholly in silence, viz. the relation betweennbsp;spell and prayer. The same word {JiTohma) is in general use for both ofnbsp;these; and it is not always easy to determine whether a given poemnbsp;should be regarded as one or the other. The prevalent view seems to benbsp;that prayer belongs in the main to the earliest period, and that in coursenbsp;of time it was largely displaced and superseded by the spell. This viewnbsp;has in its favour that spells form the bulk of the Atharvaveda, whereasnbsp;they are not numerous in the Rgveda, except in Book x, the latest partnbsp;of the collection. It is also in accord with the supreme importancenbsp;attached to ritual in the Br�hmanas, where the efficacy of the sacrificenbsp;survives and is swallowed by Vishnu, who appears to him in the form of a child.nbsp;The episode as a whole affords a good illustration of the process of accretion, whichnbsp;seems to be especially noticeable in the non-heroic elements contained in Book in.

� These passages also have frequently been explained as due to (direct or indirect) Christian influence. But the evidence is by no means convincing. We may refer to the doctrine attributed to the Druids by Strabo (cf. Vol. I, p. 328).

seems to depend on this rather than on the will of the deity to whom it is offered.

The second argument is doubtless valid, so far as the priestly tradition is concerned. The first, however, perhaps requires some qualification.nbsp;The Atharvaveda is clearly a later collection than the Rgveda; but itnbsp;does not follow that the matter contained in it is necessarily later. Allnbsp;that can be inferred with confidence is that in the circles by whom thenbsp;poems of the Rgveda were preserved spells were not at first esteemed asnbsp;highly as invocations of the gods. Moreover there is another consideration to be taken into account. We have seen that the hymns to certainnbsp;deities, especially those to Agni and Soma, which are extremelynbsp;numerous, often consist largely of descriptions of the way in whichnbsp;(e.g.) fire is produced or the Soma prepared. It is difficult to avoid thenbsp;suspicion that the original invocations of these deities were properlynbsp;spells. Indeed the spell-form seems to be preserved in such expressionsnbsp;as �Soma, flow on�, which are of very frequent occurrence. If so, spellsnbsp;must be of very great antiquity in India; and in this connection it maynbsp;be noted that the cult of Soma (Haoma) existed among the ancientnbsp;Iranians also. We see no reason for doubting that the spell is at least asnbsp;old as the prayer. It would appear to have been less honoured than thenbsp;latter in early times; but questions other than those of chronology maynbsp;here be involved. A large proportion of the hymns of the Rgveda werenbsp;clearly composed for sacrifices offered on behalf of princes, whereas thenbsp;later literature is of more exclusively priestly interest. In any case, however, it seems likely that the appearance of priestly deities such as Agni,nbsp;Soma, Brhaspati and Praj�pati, and the greater importance attached tonbsp;ritual and spell mark phases in the development of priestly power.

IN a literature which has been so much dependent upon oral tradition as that of ancient India the history of the texts is of course a subjectnbsp;of very great importance. T o deal with it satisfactorily would requirenbsp;far more knowledge of both the literature and the language than wenbsp;possess. But it is impossible to pass it over in silence in a book like this.nbsp;We shall therefore venture a few observations on the subject in relationnbsp;to the Rgveda, the early Upanishads and the Mah�bh�rata. We are awarenbsp;that the Br�hmanas are at least as important as any of these for thenbsp;study of textual tradition; but we dare not attempt to deal with them.

I. It has already been mentioned that the text of the Rgveda was fixed at a very early date and that practically no variants (in individualnbsp;passages) are known. It has also been mentioned that much of thenbsp;contents of the collection, both whole poems and individual stanzas,nbsp;have been preserved also in other Vedas. More than nine-tenths of thenbsp;S�maveda are to be found in the Rgveda; and the Atharvaveda alsonbsp;shares a very large amount of its contents with it. In these cases thenbsp;same uniformity of text does not prevail. Thus in the Atharvaveda, whilenbsp;many poems (especially in Book xx) are identical throughout withnbsp;poems in the Rgveda, many more show a greater or less amount ofnbsp;difference, sometimes in whole stanzas, sometimes in the wording ofnbsp;sentences. Much of the matter contained in Book xvni is found also innbsp;the funeral hymns in Book x of the Rgveda; but the arrangement differsnbsp;greatly. Stanzas which belong to one hymn in the Rgveda are found innbsp;different hymns in the Atharvaveda, and vice versa.

It is the general opinion now, we believe, that wherever the Rgveda differs from the other Vedas, in passages which are obviously of common origin, the former has almost always the better text. At all eventsnbsp;this is the case with the Atharvaveda, in which the common elements arenbsp;thought to have undergone a large amount of change. Formerly somenbsp;scholars held that the S�maveda often preserves a better text than thenbsp;Rgveda; but we do not think that this view is now maintained.

The rigidity with which the text of the Rgveda was preserved, and which was doubtless bound up with its sanctity, can be traced back to

very early times, probably not later than the seventh century (b.c.). But there is evidence that a freer treatment once prevailed. Thoughnbsp;variants in individual passages are wanting, there are passages and evennbsp;whole poems which are obviously variants of one another. The latternbsp;seem not to be of frequent occurrence. As an illustration we may takenbsp;IX. 104 f. Both of these poems are hymns to Soma, each containing sixnbsp;stanzas. It will be sufficient to take three of these in each case.

No. 104 may be translated as followsd (st. i) �Friends, sit down; sing to him who is being purified (i.e. strained). Adorn him (Soma)nbsp;as a child with sacrifices to grace him... .(st. 5) Thou, Soma,� lord ofnbsp;our exhilarations, art the sustenance of the gods. As friend to friend benbsp;most attentive to (our) welfare, (st. 6) Put utterly away from us everynbsp;devouring demon; defend us from him who is godless and treacherous,nbsp;and from distress.�

With this may be compared No. 105: (st. i) �Sing to him, friends, who is being purified for your exhilaration. As a child they are gladdening him with sacrifices, with hymns.... (st. 5) Thou, Soma, lord ofnbsp;our yellow (liquors) (art) the best sustenance of the gods. As friend tonbsp;friend be gracious to men for (granting) their wishes, (st. 6) (Drive)nbsp;utterly away from us every godless, devouring (foe). Victorious, Soma,nbsp;thou shalt drive away3 him who is treacherous.� The stanzas (2-4) whichnbsp;have been omitted show about the same amount of variation.

Sometimes the parallelism between two poems does not continue throughout. One or more stanzas may be independent. Thus in iv. 13 f.,nbsp;hymns to Agni, each of which contains five stanzas, there is an obviousnbsp;relationship between the two in st. i and 2, very similar to what we havenbsp;just noticed. But st. 3 and 4 in each poem seem to be independent.nbsp;The last stanza (5) in both is identical. It may be observed here that innbsp;Book IV hymns to the same deity frequently have a common final stanza,nbsp;even when they are otherwise independent.

We are under the impression that single stanzas of common origin, though not (as in the last case) identical, are of fairly frequent occurrence. But we are not sufficiently familiar with the text to give surenbsp;examples. The resemblance may often be due to independent use of

' These passages have been translated as literally as possible. A better translation of No. 104 will be found in E. J. Thomas, Vedic Hymns, p. 75 f.

� The word used here (as frequently) is indu, �juice� (of the soma plant), lit. �drop�.

3 This seems to be the meaning of the traditional text; but it involves the use of a verbal form which, we believe, many modem scholars will not allow.

595 traditional motifs and diction. For instances we may refer to I. 116-19,nbsp;which consist in the main of catalogues of benefits conferred by thenbsp;A�vins upon their various favourites. There are many resemblances;nbsp;but we are not certain that any of the stanzas are, strictly, of commonnbsp;origin. The poets seem rather to be drawing upon a common store ofnbsp;poetic tradition.

Those who have made a study of the Rgveda could doubtless furnish better examples of parallelism than those which we have given above.nbsp;These, however, are sufficient to show that the freedom with which thenbsp;Atharvan poets treated the poems of the Rgveda is not to be regarded asnbsp;an innovation. The text of the Rgveda itself gives evidence that it hadnbsp;not possessed rigidity from the beginning�that there had been a timenbsp;when it was treated with the same freedom as the poetry of other oralnbsp;literatures. The freedom shown by the parallels noticed above is ofnbsp;course much less than what is found in Yugoslav poetry (cf. p. 413 ffi,nbsp;above); but it is quite similar to some of the illustrations given fromnbsp;early Norse poetry in Vol. i. Ch. xvin. The parallelism in iv. 13 f. isnbsp;about the same as that between the opening stanzas of the HamSismalnbsp;and the GuSr�narhv�t (i�. p. 515 f.).

II. In the earlier Upanishads recurrences of short passages�covering a few lines�are not at all infrequent. But we will confine our attentionnbsp;to examples of the recurrence of a complete scene or �lesson� Qjr�h-mana)., where a dialogue is recounted or a doctrine stated in full.

First we will take two scenes from the Brhad�ranyaka, 11. 4 and iv. 5, which are for the most part practically identical. In the latter, thoughnbsp;not in the former, there is a short introduction stating that Y�jnavalkyanbsp;had two wives, one of whom, named Maitrey�, was able to discuss intellectual subjects,^ while the other was not. He is now about to retirenbsp;to the forest for good. He tells Maitrey� of his intention�ii. 4 begins atnbsp;this point�and says that he will make a settlement for her and his othernbsp;wife. She proceeds to question him on the subject of immortality; andnbsp;he replies with a discourse upon the soul {�tman} and brahma. The differences between the two scenes are very slight and hardly more thannbsp;verbal, though a few sentences found in iv. 5 are wanting in n. 4. Thenbsp;conclusion of the discourse is also wanting in the latter. In spite of thesenbsp;slight differences it cannot but strike the modern reader as remarkablenbsp;that these two scenes have been preserved in the same work�a work of

* The word is brahmavadin^ lit. �speaking of mantic knowledge, power�, etc.; cf. p. 585 f.

no very great length. Were they written down independently from different traditions.^ Or were they both preserved by the same tradition in the Upanishad before it was committed to writing.^

Next we may take Brhad�ranyaka vi. i and Ch�ndogya v. i. These are two versions of a lesson on the functions of the senses or organs ofnbsp;sense�breath, speech, eye, ear, mind and (only in Brhad.) seed (ornbsp;procreation). The lesson begins with a short series of mantic gnomes.nbsp;Then the senses dispute as to which is the best of them. They appeal tonbsp;Brahma (Brhad.) or Father Praj�pati (Chand.) to decide; and he repliesnbsp;that it is the one whose absence will be most felt by the body. Then theynbsp;all go away in turns, but find that they cannot subsist without breath.nbsp;Except in a few points such as have been instanced, the two versions arenbsp;substantially identical; but the Ch�ndogya is expressed more brieflynbsp;throughout.

Parallel versions are again to be found in Brhad. vi. 2 and Chand, v. 3. This scene is a dialogue. �vetaketu, son of �runi (cf. p. 504 f.) attends annbsp;assembly of the Panc�la and meets a prince named Prav�hana Jaibali,nbsp;who asks him if he has been instructed by his father. He replies that henbsp;has. Then the prince asks him a number of questions�relating chieflynbsp;to the life after death. The questions are substantially the same; butnbsp;Brhad�ranyaka has one more than Ch�ndogya, followed by a quotationnbsp;of poetry ; �vetaketu cannot answer a single question. Then the prince innbsp;Ch�ndogya asks him how he can say that he has been instructed; innbsp;Brhad�ranyaka he invites him to stop with him. But in both versionsnbsp;he runs off to his father and either implicitly (Brhad.) or explicitlynbsp;(Ch�nd.) blames him for not having given him sufficient instruction.nbsp;He repeats the prince�s questions to his father; and the latter confessesnbsp;implicitly (Brhad.) or explicitly (Ch�nd.) that he could not answer themnbsp;himself. Then �runi, who is described as Gautama in both versions,nbsp;sets off to see the prince himself. The prince receives him respectfullynbsp;and offers him presents; but he says that he has not come for a presentnbsp;but to learn what the prince had spoken of to his son. The details herenbsp;are different. Thus in Brhad�ranyaka �runi says that he is very well offnbsp;and, later, that he comes as a student�and remains as_such. In Ch�ndogya these details are omitted; but it is stated that Aruni makes hisnbsp;request to the prince on the day after his reception. After some hesitation, which is differently expressed in the two versions, the prince beginsnbsp;to instruct him. In the instructions which follow the differences betweennbsp;the two versions are in part about as great as those noticed above, innbsp;part somewhat greater. The Ch�ndogya is here the fuller of the two.

A somewhat similar dialogue is to be found in Brhad. n. i and Kaush. IV. I. There was a learned man called in Brhad�ranyaka Drpta-b�l�ki G�rgya, but in Kaushitaki G�rgya B�l�ki. The latter enumeratesnbsp;the kingdoms he used to visit. He offers to speak on Brahma to Kingnbsp;Aj�ta�atru of K��i, who (evidently pleased) promises to reward himnbsp;handsomely, saying that people will run to him and call him a Janaka.nbsp;G�rgya specifies a series of objects and natural phenomena�the sun,nbsp;moon, wind, fire, etc.�in which there is a person whom he worshipsnbsp;(Brhad. adds �as Brahma�); and the king comments upon each of them.nbsp;The Kaushitaki has a longer series than the Brhad�ranyaka, and thenbsp;wording of the speeches is not the same; indeed the king�s commentsnbsp;are in some cases substantially different. When G�rgya has finished, thenbsp;king says he is dissatisfied. Then G�rgya asks to become his student.nbsp;The king then takes him to a man who is asleep, and discourses on thenbsp;nature of sleep. Here the parallelism between the versions is less closenbsp;than before; and the differences become greater, until at the end there isnbsp;nothing in common.

Another instance of parallelism between the Brhad�ranyaka (vi. 3) and Ch�ndogya (v. 2.4 ff.) is to be found in the spelP which was noticednbsp;in the last chapter (p. 578). Here the resemblance is less close than in thenbsp;cases noted above, and the Ch�ndogya version is much abbreviated.

We have taken our illustrations from three of the earliest Upanishads. It is generally agreed that the Brhad�ranyaka and the Ch�ndogya are thenbsp;earliest of all. Dates of course cannot be assigned with any certainty; .nbsp;but there seems to be a general disposition to attribute both of thesenbsp;works to the sixth century, the Brhad�ranyaka to the beginning or atnbsp;least the first half of it. Now some scholars hold that by this timenbsp;writing was already in use for literary purposes. It is possible thereforenbsp;that the Upanishads, as complete works, were written down from thenbsp;beginning. But in any case the existence of such variants as those whichnbsp;have been noted above seems to us to make it clear that they are composed of elements, including complete lessons and dialogues, which hadnbsp;been preserved by oral tradition. Unfortunately it seems to be impossible to determine how long they had been thus preserved � or how

� A similar spell occurs in the Kaushitaki (cf. p. 579); but we are not clear as to its relationship to this.

� It is to be observed that the Br�hmanas have elements in common with the Upanishads, and the former are in general older than the latter. An instance occursnbsp;in Brhad. in. 9, part of which is to be found also in �at. Br. vu. 6. j (cf. p. 584).nbsp;The Brhad�ranyaka is a continuation of this Br�hmana, but is believed to be somewhat later.

long the interval was between the time of the characters of the dialogues and that of the (complete) Upanishads. But we may note that the circulation of the lessons and dialogues noticed above was not confined tonbsp;any one school. The Brhad�ranyaka belonged to the school of thenbsp;White Yajurveda, the Ch�ndogya to that of the S�maveda, and thenbsp;Kaushitaki to that of the Rgveda.

III. The Mahabharata abounds in variants. Indeed repetition in one form or another is responsible to no small extent for the size of the work.nbsp;But the differences are as a rule much greater than those we havenbsp;discussed above.

The work begins (i. i. 1-21) with a short account of the arrival of Sauti (Ugra�ravas son of Lomaharshana) at the sacred Naimisha forest,nbsp;where many seers are gathered together to take part in the sacrifice heldnbsp;by Kulapati �aunaka. The seers ask him where he has been; and he tellsnbsp;them he has been present at the great snake-sacrifice of King Janame-jaya, where he has listened to the stories of the Mahabharata composednbsp;by Vy�sa. He then asks them if they would like to hear a recitation ofnbsp;Puranic lore; and they reply that they would prefer a recitation of thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata, just as it was recited by Vai�amp�yana at Vy�sa�s direction.nbsp;Then, after a short introduction dealing with cosmology, he describesnbsp;how the work was composed by Vy�sa and written down by Ganesha,nbsp;and from this passes on to an account of the contents of the work. Thisnbsp;again is followed (i. iii) by an account of the circumstances which led tonbsp;Janamejaya�s sacrifice, which is interspersed with stories of the seers whonbsp;lived in his time.

In I. iv again we hear of Sauti in the Naimisha forest. He offers to give a recitation, and asks the seers what they wish to hear. They replynbsp;that Kulapati �aunaka is busied with sacrificial duties; when he returnsnbsp;he will decide. �aunaka asks for the history of the Bhrgu family, whichnbsp;Sauti thereupon proceeds to relate (i. v-xii). From this he passes on, atnbsp;�aunaka�s request, to the story of Janamejaya�s sacrifice and the historynbsp;of the snakes, which leads to it (i. xiii-lviii). Then, in response to anbsp;further request from �aunaka, he describes (i. lix f.) Vy�sa�s arrival atnbsp;the snake sacrifice and the recitation of the Mah�bh�rata by Vai�am-p�yana. There is no reference to Ganesha or the writing of the work.nbsp;After this (i. Ixi) Sauti begins to repeat Vai�amp�yana�s recitation ofnbsp;the story.

Even in this introductory section of the work (i. i-lx) there are a number of other instances of repetition, with more or less variation.

599 Sometimes a story is repeated in the form of a speech�for which ofnbsp;course analogies are to be found in the narrative poetry of other peoples.nbsp;Thus the account of Parikshit�s death given in i. xl ff. is repeated, morenbsp;briefly in a speech made by the king�s ministers to his son in i. xlix f. Butnbsp;there are other cases where in a modern work such repetition wouldnbsp;certainly be due to mere oversight, e.g. the descriptions of Jaratkaru�snbsp;vision of his ancestors in i. xiii and i. xlv f. The differences between thenbsp;two accounts are quite slight.

Similar repetitions are to be found frequently enough in other parts of the work. An interesting example occurs in vii. Iv ff. and xn. xxix ff.nbsp;In the former passage the story is told by Vy�sa to Yudhishthira, tonbsp;comfort him for the death of Abhimanyu. It is as follows: N�rada andnbsp;Parvata are staying with a king of old named Srnjaya. They are bothnbsp;smitten with love of the king�s daughter. N�rada asks for her in marriage,nbsp;and the king assents; but Parvata is angered and curses him, saying henbsp;shall not go to heaven when he wishes. N�rada replies that Parvata shallnbsp;not go to heaven without him. Then the Brahmans of the place begnbsp;N�rada to grant the king a son; and he grants him one who can producenbsp;gold in various ways, which need not here be specified. The king nownbsp;becomes extremely rich. But the child is killed by robbers; and thenbsp;king�s wealth disappears, and he is overwhelmed with grief. To comfortnbsp;him N�rada gives him a long account of many famous kings who died innbsp;spite of their greatness and generosity. To this list we have alreadynbsp;referred (p. 543). Then (vn. Ixxi) N�rada restores the child to life.

The account of this story given in xn. xxix ff. is considerably shorter, and the matter is differently arranged. The reciter is at first Krshna, whonbsp;is trying to console Yudhishthira for the loss of all his friends who havenbsp;been killed in the battle. The story in this case begins with N�rada�snbsp;speech to Srnjaya, comforting him for the loss of his son. The list ofnbsp;kings varies slightly from the previous account. At its conclusion N�radanbsp;promises to restore the child to life; but he mentions that the child hadnbsp;been granted to the king by Parvata, who has not been referred to up tonbsp;this point. Then Yudhishthira asks Krshna why Parvata had grantednbsp;the child to Srnjaya. Krshna replies that N�rada and Parvata, who werenbsp;uncle and nephew, had left heaven for a journey on the earth, and hadnbsp;made a compact that they would keep no secrets from one another. Thenbsp;rest of this story, down to Parvata�s departure, has been summarisednbsp;briefly on p. 537. At this point N�rada himself comes to see Yudhishthira and continues the story. The gold-producing child is born,nbsp;as in the other version; but here it is killed by a tiger, which in reality

is the thunder-weapon in disguise, sent by Indra out of jealousy. The king is overcome by grief, but thinks of N�rada, who at once appearsnbsp;and after recounting the stories of the kings, restores the child tonbsp;life.

Another, rather more complex story may be found in i. iii. 85 ff. and, somewhat more fully, in xiv. Ivi If. The latter account is as follows:nbsp;A seer named Uttanka serves his teacher with great devotion until henbsp;reaches old age. His teacher, who is simply called Gautama, restores hisnbsp;youth and gives him his daughter in marriage. At his departure henbsp;wishes to give his teacher a reward. The teacher will not accept anything;nbsp;but his wife asks Uttanka to get her the earrings of King Saud�sa�snbsp;queen. Saud�sa is a cannibal�to whom we have had to refer beforenbsp;(p. 500) under the name Kalm�shap�da�but Uttanka sets out and meetsnbsp;him in a wood. The king wants to eat him at once; but he persuadesnbsp;him first to let him carry out his duty to his teacher. He begs thenbsp;earrings from the queen, who gives them up when she ascertains thatnbsp;this is the king�s wish ; but she warns Uttanka never to let them touchnbsp;the ground. This happens, however, when he is gathering some fruit;nbsp;and a snake immediately carries them off into the ground. He digs innbsp;vain with his stick; but Indra appears, disguised as a Brahman, and imparts the force of thunder to the stick. By this means he penetrates intonbsp;the world of the Nagas. There he meets a black horse, which tells himnbsp;to blow into it. It explains that it is Agni, the fire-god, and it fills thenbsp;home of the Nagas with fire and smoke. Then the Nagas, with Vasukinbsp;their chief, come out to propitiate him, and give him back the earrings,nbsp;which he now takes safely to his teacher�s wife.

In I. iii the story has quite a different setting. Uttanka�s teacher is here called Veda; he is a friend of King Janamejaya and of a king callednbsp;Paushya. When he offers to reward his teacher, on leaving him, it is thenbsp;earrings of King Paushya�s queen that the teacher�s wife asks for. Thenbsp;main features of the story as told above recur here; but this versionnbsp;contains also many other incidents, which we must pass over. Paushyanbsp;is not a cannibal, though Uttanka finds him difficult to deal with. Thenbsp;queen, however, gives him the earrings. Then they are stolen by anbsp;beggar, who, when chased by Uttanka, proves to be Takshaka, king ofnbsp;the snakes or Nagas, in disguise. Indra sends his thunderbolt to open anbsp;way through the ground; and what follows is much the same as in thenbsp;other version, though there are a number of additional incidents. Whennbsp;Uttanka has handed over the earrings in safety to his teacher and biddennbsp;him farewell, he determines to have his revenge upon Takshaka. So he

sets off for Hastinapura to stir up king Janamejaya to exact vengeance from the snakes for his father�s death.

The different versions of this story have some interest as illustrating the freedom with which non-heroic stories can change their associations.nbsp;If Saud�sa represents a real man, he must have lived many generationsnbsp;before Janamejaya. As a matter of fact in xiv. liii ff., just before thenbsp;beginning of the first of the versions summarised above, Uttanka isnbsp;brought into contact with Krshna�^which refers him to a third period,nbsp;intermediate between the other two. He figures also in another storynbsp;(in. cc ff.), which seems to have no datable associations.

Repetitions such as we haye noted above are by no means confined to narratives. They are to be found also in didactic passages. An instancenbsp;may be seen in the discourses of Markandeya contained in iii. clxxxviii,nbsp;cxc. In both cases a brief account of the �Four Ages� is followed by anbsp;long description of the evils which characterise the end of the Kali Age,nbsp;though the conclusions are different and apparently under the inffuencenbsp;of different doctrines. We may also refer to the two genealogies of thenbsp;Kuru line contained in i. xciv f., the differences between which are verynbsp;remarkable.

In the heroic portions of the work such repetitions are less obvious; they have been welded together so as to form a continuous narrative.nbsp;They may be traced, however, sometimes without much difficulty,nbsp;especially perhaps in battle scenes. As an instance we may cite vin. iii-x,nbsp;where a whole series of incidents are repeated�the appointment ofnbsp;Kama as commander, Duryodhana�s speech on the occasion, Kama�snbsp;fall, and Dhrtar�shtra�s collapse on hearing the news. Indeed thenbsp;principle must be deeply embedded in the structure of the main story asnbsp;a whole. We may note the constant recurrence of scenes in which thenbsp;older members of the court try to dissuade the king from giving waynbsp;to his sons. It is hardly possible that so much repetition can have foundnbsp;place in a single heroic poem of entertainment (Type A). As in thenbsp;cases noticed above, it is probably due largely to the incorporation ofnbsp;different versions.

It is in this way too that the repetition of motifs may most easily be explained. The question need not be discussed at length; for we cannbsp;hardly get beyond conjecture in such a case. One example must thereforenbsp;suffice. Three times in their career the heroes are found exiled or homeless in the forest. It is perhaps an integral part of the story that they werenbsp;brought up there. But the other two incidents�their flight to the forestnbsp;in I. clii ff. and their exile in iii. i ff.�may originally have belonged to

different versions of the story. The R�m�yana provides a parallel in the two ordeals undergone by the unfortunate Sit�. It may be observed thatnbsp;the Mahabharata has only one incident (in. ccxc) corresponding to these;nbsp;and this is hardly an ordeal in the ordinary sense.

Something ought perhaps to be said here with regard to elements� scenes and dialogues�^which are common to the Mahabharata andnbsp;Upanishads. But we have not the knowledge to deal with the subject;nbsp;there may be intermediaries which are unknown to us. We may callnbsp;attention, however, to the story of Naciketas, son of Udd�laka �runi,�nbsp;and his visit to the home of Yama, which is found in xiii. Ixxi and in thenbsp;Katha Upanishad, i. i ff. The resemblance is practically limited to thenbsp;introduction in each case. The home of the dead in the former is anbsp;material Paradise, which is to be attained by generosity. The latter is anbsp;discussion of �tman and brahma, such as is usual in the Upanishads.

� The introduction to Ae Upanishad describes him as son of V�jacravas; but he is called son of Udd�laka Aruni in the poetry (i. 11). This story is preserved also innbsp;the Taittiriya Br�hmana, which has not been accessible to us.

�Vedas, Br�hmanas, Upanishads and Mahabharata. But the oral tradition varies much in character. In the Rgveda we find memorisation in the strictest form, whereas very great freedom seems to havenbsp;been allowed in the Mahabharata. In the Upanishads, and perhaps alsonbsp;the Br�hmanas, the treatment of the text seems to be intermediate between these extremes. In the former the most striking feature is thenbsp;retention of sections which are obvious doublets, a feature which occursnbsp;also in the Mahabharata. It would seem that the matter had been allowednbsp;to accumulate without much effort in the way of redaction. As regardsnbsp;the Rgveda, however, we have noted that strict memorisation cannotnbsp;have prevailed from the beginning, as shown by the existence ofnbsp;variants, both in other Vedas and even in the Rgveda itself. The treatment of the text presumably became more strict as the hymns grew in

All this literature may be described as priestly, at least in the sense that they have been preserved by Brahmans. It is true that the Mahabharata contains large elements, including the central story of the work,nbsp;which are evidently of different origin. Some of these elements appearnbsp;to come from the same sources as the Pur�nas, as we shall see later. Butnbsp;there is no sufficient reason for doubting that the earlier records, thenbsp;Vedas, Br�hmanas and Upanishads, owe their origin, as well as theirnbsp;preservation, to Brahmans. The fact that their history has been boundnbsp;up from the beginning with a learned class is probably responsible fornbsp;their being preserved in a more original form and a more archaic type ofnbsp;language.

How then was the literature preserved.^ It is to be borne in mind that the whole of it seems to have been used either for liturgical or fornbsp;didactic or edifying purposes. The Rgveda was regarded as a verballynbsp;inspired Bible, and every poem contained in it as a hymn addressed tonbsp;some deity or deified object. To every poem was assigned as �author�nbsp;or perhaps rather as �publisher�, a seer, who was supposed to have

�seen� it, i.e. in our terminology to have had it revealed to him. Not seldom these �authors� are supernatural beings themselves. The S�ma-veda is a �hymn-book�, collected mainly from the Rgveda. Thenbsp;Yajurveda may be called a �prayer-book�. It is concerned with thenbsp;formulae muttered by the Adhvaryu and his assistants, the priestlynbsp;officials who attended to the manual side of the sacrifices. The Atharva-veda consists of prayers and spells intended chiefly for private or socialnbsp;occasions.

All these works may be regarded as liturgical in some sense. But they were also used for �educational� purposes. Not only Brahmans but alsonbsp;princes who made any claim to learning or piety are said to know thenbsp;Vedas. We do not know what this means in actual practice; but wenbsp;suppose that some knowledge of the Rgveda at least is involved.

The Br�hmanas and Upanishads are didactic, not liturgical works. The former consist of directions for the liturgy; but the matter is largelynbsp;in the nature of commentary, and they may fairly be regarded asnbsp;manuals of instruction for liturgical purposes. The Upanishads consistnbsp;of instructions or expositions of doctrine for non-liturgical purposes. Innbsp;both cases the tradition was presumably educational. Many, if not all, ofnbsp;the seers or sages of the time were teachers ; and the teaching was passednbsp;on from the teacher to his pupils. It is generally believed that a numbernbsp;of these works have had additions made to them; thus (e.g.) the concluding parts of the Aitareya Br�hmana and of the Brhad�ranyakanbsp;Upanishad are believed to be later in date than the preceding parts.nbsp;Moreover there is reason for thinking, as we have seen (p. 597 f.), thatnbsp;much of the matter contained in the Br�hmanas and Upanishads isnbsp;older than the existing works. The persons who are cited as authoritiesnbsp;and who figure in the debates belong to the past; and there is no need tonbsp;doubt that in some form or other the tradition goes back to their times.nbsp;We see no reason for doubting also that in this earlier period doctrinesnbsp;were enunciated in debates between seers, as well as in the relations ofnbsp;teacher and pupil.

The tradition of the Br�hamanas was obviously priestly (Brahman! cal), and we do not see how the Upanishads can be separated from them. But it is clear from the debates that it was regarded as nothingnbsp;very unusual for princes to become proficient in the learning of thenbsp;latter; and consequently we must infer that they were not excluded fromnbsp;the educational system with which these were bound up. From certainnbsp;passages in the Br�hmanas (e.g. Ait. Br. vii. 27 if.) it would seem thatnbsp;kings sometimes intervened even in matters of ritual.

The Mahabharata was doubtless preserved in a similar way, by the instructions of teacher to pupils. According to the account which itnbsp;gives of itself it was composed by Vy�sa and taught by him to his pupilnbsp;Vai�amp�yana. But it was not intended merely for private or � academic �nbsp;circulation. At Vy�sa�s own request Vai�amp�yana recites it beforenbsp;King Janamejaya and a large company assembled for his snake-sacrificenbsp;(l. 61). Sauti also recites it to a large gathering of Brahmans, who arenbsp;attending a sacrifice (l. i and 4). In v. 141 it is prophesied that Brahmans will tell the world of the great battle. We understand that suchnbsp;recitations are still given at festivals. It is to be remembered that thenbsp;Mahabharata comprises both entertaining and didactic or edifyingnbsp;matter. It claims (e.g. i. i. 268 S.; ii. 380; Ixii. 16 if.) to be equal ornbsp;superior to the Vedas and to have the power of purifying from sinsnbsp;those who hear or read it; it ensures their prosperity in this life and theirnbsp;salvation hereafter. But we do not know whether these claims werenbsp;admitted by scholars of the Vedic schools.

On the subject of recitation the evidence is abundant enough, though not so clear as might be wished. Thus the Br�hmanas deal atnbsp;great length with various sacrifices, but we have not been able to formnbsp;a satisfactory picture of the procedure. The number of priestly officialsnbsp;who took part in the great sacrifices was at least sixteen, and several ofnbsp;these had speaking parts. The Adhvaryu had to �mutter� formulae ofnbsp;the Yajurveda, while the Hotar seems to have recited hymns from thenbsp;Rgveda; and there were others to sing hymns from the S�maveda. Wenbsp;do not know to what extent instrumental music was in use. It is mentioned in the �atapatha Br�hmana, xiii. i. 5. 6, 4. 3. 5, in connectionnbsp;with the horse-sacrifice; but it would seem to be used only to accompany the verses in honour of the sacrificing king, who is praised withnbsp;righteous kings of old.

The Mah�bh�rata is recited evidently without instrumental accompaniment by Sauti and Vai�amp�yana; and the same is true of the heroic and non-heroic stories which are said to be recited incidentallynbsp;in the course of the work by the seer Markandeya and others. Yet therenbsp;are a number of passages which at least suggest minstrelsy. Thus innbsp;I. ccxx. 15 Arjuna, while staying with Krshna, is awakened by thenbsp;sounds of the lute (yin�) and the panegyrics of the poets; and again innbsp;VII. bcxxiv. 22 the same hero is greeted with the sounds of musicalnbsp;instruments and eulogies. These passages point to the use of stringednbsp;instruments as an accompaniment to heroic panegyrics (Type D). And

for earlier times the same usage is placed beyond doubt by a passage in the �atapatha Br�hmana referred to above. It is there stated that atnbsp;the time of the horse-sacrifice, but during the evening, a man of princelynbsp;rank {r�janya) sings to the lute three stanzas which he has composed innbsp;honour of the sacrificing king, celebrating the battles which he has won.nbsp;Minstrelsy (with the vino) is also mentioned in the Ch�ndogyanbsp;Upanishad, i. 7. 6, but the character of the poetry is not made clear.�nbsp;Elegies or dirges in the Mahabharata seem not be accompanied, if wenbsp;may judge from xi. xvi �F. ; but this is the case in other lands also. Wenbsp;have unfortunately not been able to find any satisfactory instances of thenbsp;recitation of spells or of public recitations of heroic narrative poetry bynbsp;professional reciters, though in the former case the negative evidence ofnbsp;such an extensive collection as the Atharvaveda suggests that the use ofnbsp;music was at least not general. To the latter subject we shall have tonbsp;return later in the chapter.

On the subject of authorship we have little direct evidence. A number of poems in the Rgveda contain personal references to their authorsnbsp;(seers), which may be compared with the personal references innbsp;Hesiod�s poems. But in later literature anything in the nature of Type Enbsp;seems to be entirely wanting. Contemporary information as to thenbsp;authors is also seldom, if ever, to be found. We can therefore discussnbsp;only the circles or classes of persons from which the works seem to benbsp;derived.

We shall confine our attention in general to the Rgveda and the Mahabharata. Regarding the origin of the Br�hmanas and the Upanishads we think there is little to be said, at least by those who are notnbsp;specialists. Some of these works have authors assigned to them bynbsp;tradition. Thus the Aitareya Br�hmana is attributed to a certainnbsp;Mahid�sa Aitareya,� who is mentioned in the Ch�ndogya Upanishadnbsp;and elsewhere. But it is clear that most of these works, including thenbsp;one in question, are collections of learning which have accumulated innbsp;the course of time; and Mahid�sa can hardly have been more than anbsp;�redactor�, or at most a collector. The Black Yajurveda is preserved innbsp;several different recensions, representing different schools; but its origin

� Instrumental music does not seem to be much cultivated by seers; but in Mah�bh. ix. 54 the divine seer N�rada arrives with a lyre�which shows that itnbsp;could not have been unknown. In Indra�s abode minstrelsy and panegyrics arenbsp;cultivated by the Gandharvas (iii. 43. 18, 28; 44. 9; 46. 27).

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 607 is unknown. The White Yajurveda seems to be a redaction of this,nbsp;attributed by tradition to Y�jnavalkya. We do not know the history ofnbsp;the S�maveda or of the Atharvaveda. The latter seems to be a collectionnbsp;of prayers and spells coming down from various ages, comparable innbsp;this respect with the Rgveda. But, unlike the Rgveda, it seldom recordsnbsp;the names of either seers or princes, and consequently its history is morenbsp;difficult to trace.

The Rgveda, even as a collection (Samhita) must be much older than any of the existing Br�hmanas. The hymns, including those containednbsp;in Book x, the latest portion, are always treated as sacred. Very oftennbsp;they are interpreted in a mystical sense, which the authors themselvesnbsp;cannot have intended; but everywhere they are credited with �verbalnbsp;inspiration� in the strictest sense. Every hymn, as we have seen, isnbsp;attributed to a seer, to whom it was believed to have been revealed.nbsp;Sometimes indeed these � seers � are deities and other supernatural beings ;nbsp;for poems (of Type B) which are speeches in character seem not to havenbsp;been distinguished from poems (of Type E) in which an author speaksnbsp;in his own person. Among other considerations which point to a longnbsp;lapse of time we may note that the Rgveda contains but one referencenbsp;to the caste-system, whereas in the Br�hmanas the four castes arenbsp;frequently mentioned and there is no indication that the system was ofnbsp;recent growth. The solitary passage in the Rgveda (x. 90. 11 f.) seemsnbsp;from the context (cf. pp. 544, 549) to be an addition to the poem.nbsp;Even more striking are the differences in political geography and innbsp;geographical outlook.

The origin of the Rgveda, as a collection, is believed to have been as follows. Books ii-viii are attributed to certain families of seers and arenbsp;sometimes called �Family-Books�. Book viii is supposed to be somewhat later than the rest of these. Book i consists of a considerablenbsp;number of similar but smaller collections. Book ix contains only hymnsnbsp;to Soma, which are believed to have been taken from Books i-viii andnbsp;brought together. Book x is held to be a later supplement, drawn fromnbsp;various sources. The language here is commonly of a somewhat laternbsp;type than in the other Books.

In many, though not the majority, of the hymns the seer�s name or that of his family is recorded. All the rest have had the names of seersnbsp;attached to them in the learned tradition of later times. It is a difficultnbsp;question to decide how far this tradition is to be trusted; for many of thenbsp;attributions are obviously incredible. The natural tendency of a modernnbsp;reader is to doubt the existence of a genuine tradition reaching back to

the times when the hymns were composed and to regard the attributions in general as due to speculation or guesswork. There are, however,nbsp;among the names a considerable number of whom little or nothingnbsp;seems to be known elsewhere; and, though some of them are doubtlessnbsp;fictitious, the possibility of a genuine tradition should perhaps not benbsp;excluded in all cases.

In most of the �Family-Books� the great majority of the hymns are attributed by tradition to the founder of the family himself. Thus innbsp;Book III, which is said to belong to the family of Vi�v�mitra, out ofnbsp;sixty-two hymns all except thirteen are attributed to Vi�v�mitra himself.nbsp;Of these thirteen four are attributed to sons of that seer and three to thenbsp;god Praj�pati. In Book iv, the book of V�madeva�s family, all thenbsp;hymns except three, out of fifty-eight, are attributed to V�madeva. Innbsp;Book VI, the book of Bharadv�ja�s family, all except sixteen, out ofnbsp;seventy-five, are attributed to Bharadv�ja, and most of these sixteen tonbsp;descendants of that seer. In Book vii, the book of Vasishtha�s family,nbsp;all the hymns, a hundred and four in number, are attributed to Vasishtha.nbsp;In Book II, the book of Bhrgu�s family, or of that of Grtsamada, anbsp;descendant of Bhrgu,^ out of forty-three hymns thirty-nine are attributednbsp;to Grtsamada and the rest to another of Bhrgu�s descendants. In Booksnbsp;V and VIII, the books of the families of Atri and of Kanva, the traditionnbsp;shows no such approach to uniformity. In Book v only a few hymnsnbsp;are attributed to Atri, and in Book viii none to Kanva, though in bothnbsp;cases many of them are attributed to their descendants. But many othersnbsp;are attributed either to supernatural beings or to persons who are morenbsp;or less clearly fictitious.

Next let us take the evidence of the hymns themselves. In Book vii the name Vasishtha, in the singular, occurs in twelve hymns, usually, if notnbsp;always, with reference to the present, and apparently meaning the poetnbsp;himself. In the plural it occurs in eleven hymns, again probably alwaysnbsp;with reference to the present. In two hymns (Nos. 23 and 33) the namenbsp;occurs both in the singular and in the plural, and we do not understandnbsp;the significance of the change of number. Does the singular mean �anbsp;Vasishtha�, or is the same person�the famous seer of Sudas� time�nbsp;always meant The person whose mythical birth is described in No. 33nbsp;(cf. p. 507) is presumably an ancestor of the poet, or perhaps his father.

The same difficulty occurs again in Book iii, where most of the hymns are attributed by tradition to Vi�v�mitra; but here the proper

� According to Mah�bh. xiii. 30 Grtsamada was a son of Vitahavya, a king who fled to Bhrgu for protection and became a Brahman.

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 609 names are not so frequent. We find the name T^i�v�mitra, both singularnbsp;and plural, and also the family name Ku�ika (plural) in iii. 53. Elsewhere the name J^i�v�mitra seems to occur only in one hymn (in thenbsp;plural) and the name Ku�ika (plural) in five hymns.

In Book IV, as we have seen, almost all the hymns are attributed by tradition to V�madeva; but in the hymns themselves this name seems tonbsp;occur only once (iv. 16), in the singular. The family name Gotamak isnbsp;also very rare; we have noticed only one example in the singular and onenbsp;in the plural. In the former case (iv. 4) the poet speaks of Gotama as hisnbsp;father. In Book 11 the name Grtsamada occurs in four hymns, but onlynbsp;in the plural. In Book vi the name Bharadv�ja occurs in six hymns asnbsp;singular and in seven as plural. In both cases probably the majority�nbsp;though not all�of the examples relate to the present. For this name wenbsp;may refer also to what was said in Ch. IV (p. 506 f.).

From this it will be seen that the amount of direct evidence available from the poems themselves as to their origin varies greatly from Booknbsp;to Book. There are of course other considerations to be taken intonbsp;account, besides the use of proper names. Thus the majority�over two-thirds�of the hymns in Book vii have a characteristic ending, addressednbsp;to the gods: �Do ye preserve us ever with blessings.� In Book iv therenbsp;are recurrent final stanzas, especially in the hymns to Indra. These casesnbsp;in themselves prove no more than that the poems have at one timenbsp;belonged to the same repertoire. But they may be taken as examples of anbsp;class of evidence which requires consideration. Those who have devotednbsp;more time to the study of the poems than we have could probably citenbsp;more important instances.

It would be of interest to know whether the hymns contained in each book are contemporary with one another. Unfortunately references tonbsp;(living) princes occur only in a minority of the hymns. But all thosenbsp;which occur in Book vii seem to belong to one period, so far as we cannbsp;judge. The same remark seems to be true of most of such referencesnbsp;which occur in Book hi and in Book vi. The former belong to the samenbsp;period as those in Book vii, the latter to a period apparently about twonbsp;generations earlier. One poem in Book vi (No. 20) may be somewhatnbsp;later than the others; and one in Book hi (No. 23) would seem to benbsp;two or three generations earlier than the rest of those contained in thisnbsp;Book. The latter is of some interest if we are to credit the tradition thatnbsp;Vi�v�mitra�s family was royal, not priestly; for it would then appear

� This name occurs more frequently in Book I, especially in two groups of hymns attributed by tradition to Gotama himself and his son respectively.

that the priestly families incorporated earlier poems in their collections. In general, however, the references in these three books, so far as theynbsp;go, tend to show that most of the poems contained in each of them datenbsp;from one short period. We are not clear that the same is true of the othernbsp;books. In the case of Book viii we should doubt it. But we think thisnbsp;is a composite collection.

Perhaps the most striking fact disclosed by a survey of this kind is the antiquity of the priestly families. Some of them had an establishednbsp;position in the time of Sudas, one of them even in that of Divod�sa,nbsp;probably two generations earlier, while others claimed a still morenbsp;remote, though legendary ancestry. These families professed to havenbsp;the power of obtaining from the gods by their invocations success,nbsp;especially in battle, for the princes who employed them; and the greatnbsp;rewards which they received show that their claims were admitted. Annbsp;analogy is to be found in Greek mantic families, such as the lamidai,nbsp;members of which were in much demand as divining priests in time ofnbsp;war, even down to the fifth century. The �Family-Books� consist ofnbsp;collections of such invocations, many of which evidently date from thenbsp;earliest times.

We have not the knowledge necessary for discussing the question how far the different collections have influenced one another. Theynbsp;consist of hymns addressed to the same deities, and they are arranged innbsp;the same order, though this may be due to subsequent �editing�. Therenbsp;is also a close general resemblance in diction and in the treatment of thenbsp;matter. But the resemblances in detail between individual poems innbsp;different collections seem to us to be hardly close enough to provenbsp;influence on a large scale. This may of course be due to insufficientnbsp;acquaintance with the poems. If not, one must conclude that the formsnbsp;of this poetry were fixed in very remote times.

In any case there can be no question that beside the royal families a spiritual aristocracy, powerful and wealthy, and provided with its ownnbsp;sacred literature, existed long before we have any evidence for anbsp;Brahman caste�some centuries previously, it would seem. This aristocracy had apparently no central organisation, apart from the familiesnbsp;themselves. Neither were its foundations fixed locally; for we hearnbsp;nothing of permanent sanctuaries in this period. The families or theirnbsp;heads were doubtless as a rule attached to the service of kings; for anbsp;priest could obtain the richest rewards by becoming a purohita ornbsp;� chaplain � to a king. But we hear in the Kaushitaki Br�hmana (cf. p. 500)nbsp;of a deadly quarrel between Vasishtha and the sons of Sudas, and the

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 6ll Mahabharata records many such quarrels. It may also be noted that innbsp;the �Family-Books� themselves there are to be found hymns composednbsp;on behalf of more than one dynasty. Thus in Book vii, No. 96 andnbsp;perhaps also No. 5 seem to have been composed for P�ru. But a numbernbsp;of other hymns were certainly composed for Bharata (Trtsu). In No. 19nbsp;the two kings are associated; but Nos. 8 and 18 are definitely hostile tonbsp;P�ru. Did Vasishtha transfer his allegiance to P�ru?

Another possibility ought to be taken into account, viz. that the activities of the priestly families were �international��as seems to havenbsp;been the case with the Greek mantic families. A careful examination ofnbsp;Books I and viii might produce evidence to this effect. Thus at the beginning of Book VIII there is a group of poems composed for Turva�a ornbsp;Yadu�which are usually associated�by the family of Kanva. And innbsp;both Books there are other groups of poems, coming apparently fromnbsp;the same family, which may have been composed for princes of othernbsp;dynasties, apart from possible cases of alliance, as in vin. 8. But we havenbsp;not sufficient knowledge to identify the names. It may be noted thatnbsp;very few poems in the Rgveda seem to have been composed fornbsp;Turva�a or Yadu, while Anu and Druhyu are, so far as we know, notnbsp;represented at all, though in one passage at least (vii. 18.6) the family ofnbsp;Bhrgu is apparently identified with Anu. To the more easterly kingdoms�Kuru, Panc�la, K��, Kosala, Videha�which are the mostnbsp;prominent in the Br�hmanas, the Upanishads and the Mahabharata,nbsp;there seems to be no reference in the Rgveda, apart from the hymn fornbsp;�amtanu (x. 98). Presumably they did not come into existence untilnbsp;towards the close of this period. Yet it is here that we find the representatives of the great priestly families in later times. The explanationnbsp;may be that these kingdoms were offshoots of Bharata or P�ru. Andnbsp;�as against what has been said above�the presence of a family in bothnbsp;Bharata and P�ru may be explained in the same way; for in the antiquarian speculations of later times Bharata is a descendant of P�ru.

We have spoken only of the ancient priestly families. But it is to be remembered that there are hymns attributed to seers who did not belongnbsp;to these families. Such is the case with the hymn to which we have justnbsp;referred, x. 98, the �seer� of which (Dev�pi) is said to have been anbsp;relative of l�ng �amtanu (cf. p. 509). The hymn is of importance asnbsp;showing that at the end of the Rgveda period the priesthood was stillnbsp;open to members of royal families. In the learned tradition some hymnsnbsp;are even ascribed to kings, e.g. Trasadasyu; but such evidence perhapsnbsp;need not be taken too seriously, since seers and kings seem to be con-

fused not unfrequently. It is curious, however, that in later times Vi�v�mitra is regularly said to have been a king; for it was hardly innbsp;accordance with the principle of the caste system to invent transfersnbsp;from the Kshatriya to the Brahman caste. The Rgveda itself apparentlynbsp;gives no information as to Vi�v�mitra�s origin; but his royal positionnbsp;seems to be implied in the poetry quoted in the Aitareya Br�hmana,nbsp;VII. i8.^ We may also note here that the use of the name Bhrgu for Anunbsp;in Rgv. VII. 18 (cf. p. 6i i) rather suggests that the former were regardednbsp;as belonging to the royal family of Anu.

This evidence is not very satisfactory; but it is probable in itself that before the caste system became fixed the priesthood was largely recruited from the ruling families. In later times we hear not unfrequentlynbsp;of the �royal seer� {Rajarsi), who was not a priest. But by now the castenbsp;system was fixed and regarded as eternal. The seer of the Rgveda is anbsp;priest, who takes part in the sacrifice. But there is nothing, so far as wenbsp;know, to show that he could not be of royal origin. Analogous conditions seem to have prevailed among the Druids of Ireland. Our information regarding these persons is unfortunately very meagre. But theynbsp;sometimes belonged to royal families, as did Cathbad; and sometimesnbsp;the � profession � tended to become hereditary (cf. Vol. i, p. 612).

The Mahabharata contains both Brahmanical (priestly) and non-Brahmanical elements; but first we will consider the former. Among these are many long disquisitions upon doctrine or law, which need notnbsp;be discussed here. We will confine our attention to (non-heroic) storiesnbsp;of seers and kings, such as were noticed in Ch. IV. These stories arenbsp;very numerous and extend from the earliest times to the period of thenbsp;seers who figure in the Upanishads.

With regard to these stories two features may be noted at once. In the first place the caste system is postulated throughout, as existing fromnbsp;the earliest times. Secondly, nearly all the stories which relate to earlynbsp;times�the period of the Rgveda and earlier�have one common motif,nbsp;viz. the superiority of the Brahman to the Kshatriya caste. In storiesnbsp;relating to later times�the period of Janamejaya and that of the seers ofnbsp;the Upanishads�this motif seldom or never appears. Now the generalnbsp;impression one gets from the Br�hmanas and Upanishads is that by thisnbsp;time the relations of the castes had become settled, and the Brahman wasnbsp;recognised as possessing privileges which he could interpret as signifyingnbsp;his superiority. But the stories in the Mahabharata which relate tonbsp;� Cf. Keith, Rigveda Brahmanas, pp. 66 f., 308 (note 8).

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 613 earlier times are very frequently occupied with a struggle for masterynbsp;between members of the two castes. No doubt there were at all timesnbsp;reckless and impious princes who were ready to insult and injure Brahmans. But the constant recurrence of this motif in the stories can hardlynbsp;be explained by such sporadic cases. It seems rather to reflect thenbsp;conditions of a time when the claims and privileges of the Brahman werenbsp;not yet generally recognised.

We do not mean that the stories preserve a faithful historical record of the conditions of the Rgveda period. The Brahman is described as anbsp;poor man, possessing perhaps only a single cow. The more importantnbsp;characters are always ascetics, living in the forest. But the priests of thenbsp;Rgveda, often the same persons, must have been wealthy; and we hearnbsp;nothing of asceticism or of life in the forest.^ We mean that storiesnbsp;relating to the Rgveda period, distorted and perhaps often fictitious,nbsp;were current in the times between the end of that period and the reignnbsp;of Janamejaya, and that owing to the growing claims of the Brahmansnbsp;they assumed a certain colouring, which is reflected in the Mahabharata.

As an illustration we may take first the story of Yay�ti and his wives (cf. p. 498 f.), which relates to primeval times. This story is complicatednbsp;by an antiquarian motif, which is quite distinct from, and probablynbsp;earlier than, the Brahmanic, with which we are now concerned. But thenbsp;contention between the wives turns wholly upon the question ofnbsp;superiority, as between Brahman and Kshatriya. More frequently wenbsp;meet with a trial of strength between a seer (Brahman) and a prince.nbsp;The latter insults the former, or injures him by force majeure; but in thenbsp;end the power of the Brahman proves to be greater. Examples of thisnbsp;may be seen in the dealings between Vasishtha and Vi�v�mitra, beforenbsp;the latter became a seer, and again in those between Vasishtha andnbsp;King Kalm�shap�da (cf. p. $00), and so also in the story of V�madevanbsp;and the impious kings (p. 499).

In such stories the power of the Brahman is of course at first sight far inferior to that of the prince. He is generally a poor man, and lives bynbsp;begging. But, as in the case of the Irish fill, his requests must not benbsp;refused, however extravagant they may be. If he cares to make use ofnbsp;his powers, especially his curse, he can disable or ruin his opponent innbsp;any way he wishes. We may refer to the Apsarasas who were transformed into crocodiles (cf. p. 581). Some seers have attained such

* In the Upanishads seers sometimes retire to the forest at a certain age. But little is said about asceticism, so far as we have_observed. Sometimes they are evidentlynbsp;very well off, as in the case of Udd�laka Aruni (Brhad. vi. 2. 7).

power by their asceticism that even the gods live in dread of them. But the Brahman can do benefits, as well as injuries. This side of his powernbsp;appears perhaps most often in the granting of offspring. One of thenbsp;most frequently recurring motifs in the Mahabharata is that of the princenbsp;who cannot obtain children by his own efforts. Sometimes, as in thenbsp;case of Bhima of Vidarbha (iii. liii), the Brahman can grant themnbsp;apparently merely by his blessing; but at other times he plays a morenbsp;active part, as in the stories of Kalm�shap�da (i. clxxix) and Vicitravirya.nbsp;Occasionally he produces them forthwith from the altar of sacrifice, asnbsp;in the case of Drupada�s children (i. clxix).

The essential feature of the doctrine is that the prince is helpless without the Brahman, just as in the long run he is powerless to oppose ornbsp;injure him. The doctrine naturally involved a change in the relationsnbsp;between the two. In the Rgveda the seer is an intermediary between thenbsp;prince and the gods, and owes his influence to this position. But nownbsp;he is himself the object of reverence and devotion. The pious prince isnbsp;one who honours the Brahmans. In principle the gods have becomenbsp;superfluous.

It would seem that in practice princes continued to worship Indra and the other ancient deities. The Brahmans, however, had apparently comenbsp;to regard Indra as a kind of divine Kshatriya; and the slaying of Vrtranbsp;is represented as Brahmanicide, the worst of all possible crimes. At annbsp;earlier date, before�though probably not long before�the close ofnbsp;the Rgveda period they had invented a god of their own, Praj�pati,nbsp;superior to Indra. Yet they do not appear to have attached any greatnbsp;importance to orthodoxy in their theology. The extreme attention tonbsp;formalism which we find in the Br�hmanas is balanced by great freedomnbsp;of speculation in the Upanishads.

The existence of the Brahman caste� is perhaps what constitutes the chief difference between ancient India and the early civilisations ofnbsp;Europe. In ancient Europe also there were peoples among whom thenbsp;intellectual element succeeded in establishing its ascendancy over thenbsp;military. We may instance the Gauls. But the Druids did not form anbsp;caste; they were drawn, at least in part, from what would in India benbsp;called the Kshatriya. In other respects�the forest life, the educationalnbsp;activity, the character of the speculations, and perhaps also the attentionnbsp;which they gave to the law�there are close resemblances between the

* For the other castes�Kshatriya, Vai�ya, ��dra�European analogies are by no means wanting. Sometimes, as among the Old Saxons, intermarriage wasnbsp;prohibited.

two cases. But the Druids of Gaul, unlike the Brahmans, had a centralised organisation.

It is doubtless due to the dominant position of the Brahmans that the whole of Indian literature which has survived from before Buddhistnbsp;times has been preserved by them. They had not a monopoly of intellectual life. That is clear from the intellectual princes who figure in thenbsp;Upanishads, and who seem to have been fairly numerous. But apparently,nbsp;like the Druids, they had all education in their hands ; and it is to educational tradition that we are wholly or almost wholly indebted for thenbsp;preservation of ancient Indian literature.

The value of the Brahmanical elements in the Mahabharata lies in the fact that they reflect, however remotely, the conditions under which thenbsp;Brahmanical system became established. They preserve evidence whichnbsp;points to a transitional phase. It is related�against the principle ofnbsp;Brahmanism�that some priest-seers, including the famous Vi�v�mitra,nbsp;the founder of one of the great priestly families,^ were of Kshatriyanbsp;stock. On the other hand they have also much to say about certainnbsp;Brahmans who were great warriors, especially Rama, son of Jamadagni,nbsp;who belonged to the family of Bhrgu, Krpa, a descendant of Gotama,nbsp;and Drona, who was born miraculously to Bharadv�ja and who becamenbsp;a king, as well as a warrior. Even if it be maintained that all these storiesnbsp;are products of fiction, it requires to be explained how such charactersnbsp;could be invented under the caste system. The natural explanation at allnbsp;events is that they date from a time before the borderline betweennbsp;Kshatriya and Brahman families was rigidly fixed, and when exceptionalnbsp;cases were still not unknown.

The non-Brahmanical elements in the Mahabharata consist of heroic stories and a certain amount of didactic matter, including genealogiesnbsp;and traditions of royal houses. It is a difficult question to decide hownbsp;much of this didactic matter is to be regarded as non-Brahmanical.nbsp;Indeed from the analogy of other lands one is inclined at first to doubtnbsp;whether it is justifiable to deny the possibility of a Brahmanic originnbsp;for any of it. This element, however, is closely connected with the

� We do not know whether the priestly family who bore the name Daiv�pi in Janamejaya�s time claimed descent from the Dev�pi of Rgv. x. 98 (cf. p. lt;5ii).nbsp;Mah�^bh. ix. xxxix f. gives a list of four princes who attained the status of Brahman,nbsp;viz. Arshtishena, Dev�pi, Sindhudvipa and Vi�v�mitra. The two first of these seemnbsp;to be identical (cf. p. 509). In xiii. iv Sindhudvipa is an ancestor of Vi�v�mitra.nbsp;In xni. XXX there is a fifth instance, that of Vitahavya, who owed his change ofnbsp;status to Bhrgu.

Pur�nas, where the same problem arises. In the latter there is some definite, if not entirely satisfactory, evidence for derivation from anbsp;different class.

It will perhaps be best to begin with the heroic stories. One of these, the story of the sons of P�ndu, forms the central theme of the work,nbsp;while the others are introduced episodically in the course of the action,nbsp;and narrated by various characters. Three of them, the stories of Nala,nbsp;Rama and S�vitri, are narrated to Yudhishthira for the purpose of comforting him, while he is in exile in the forest. The narrators are the seersnbsp;Brhada�va and Markandeya. The story of Amb� is told by the old heronbsp;Bhishma, in order to explain why he will not fight against �ikhandin.nbsp;The speeches of Vidul� (cf. p. 470 f.) are quoted by Kunti, in order tonbsp;rouse Yudhishthira to action.

From this it would seem that both seers and members of royal families, including ladies, might be expected to be familiar with heroicnbsp;stories. As regards the narrators individually, we may note thatnbsp;Markandeya is said to be immortal and that he recounts many stories ofnbsp;Brahmanic interest, as well as the stories of Kama and S�vitri. He isnbsp;known also to the Pur�nas, one of which bears his name. Brhadacva isnbsp;introduced briefly as a great seer, who visits Yudhishthira in the forestnbsp;and relates to him the story of Nala (in. lii). Before leaving him he imparts to him his knowledge of dice {ib. Ixxix). It seems likely that he isnbsp;to be identified with the king called Brhada�va {ib. cci), who retired tonbsp;the forest and became an ascetic. It has been pointed out� that the namenbsp;is of a type more familiar in Kshatriya than in Brahmanic families.nbsp;Bhishma and Kunti are of course leading characters in the central story.

There is other evidence that princes were supposed to be familiar with heroic stories. In i. ccxxiv. 29, when Arjuna and Krshna are sittingnbsp;together near the Jumna during a festival, they amuse themselves bynbsp;telling one another �the glorious deeds of old and many other tales�.^ Itnbsp;may be observed that the same two heroes on another occasion (xiv.nbsp;XV. 5 ff.), while sitting together in the council-house at Indraprastha,nbsp;relate not only �tales of war and moil� but also �genealogies of seers andnbsp;gods�.

� The translations �f this passage and the next are taken from Hopkins, The Great Epic of India, p. 364.

3 A number of references are given by Sidhanta, op. cit. p. 57 f.; cf. also Hopkins, op. cit. p. 366 f.

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 617 however, if not always, it is in connection with panegyrics�evidentlynbsp;heroic poetry of Type D�that such persons are mentioned. One ofnbsp;their functions is to chant panegyrics to a prince when he wakes in thenbsp;morning. Thus in i. ccxx. 14 Arjuna, when visiting Krshna,is awakenednbsp;by the sound of the lyre (y�na) and the panegyrics of the bards. In hi.nbsp;ccxxxv. 10 Dhrtar�shtra says that Yudhishthira used to be awakenednbsp;every morning by singers who chanted his praises. Sometimes thesenbsp;panegyrics are said to include the praise of the dynasty, as in vii. Ixxxii.nbsp;2 ff. In warfare, especially perhaps in the evening, a camp resounds withnbsp;such songs, accompanied with music and dancing (vii. Ixxxv). Theynbsp;greet a hero when he sets out to battle {ib. Ixxxiv. 22 f.). Such panegyricsnbsp;are mentioned also on many solemn and festive occasions�^whennbsp;Duryodhana returns home from an expedition (hi. cclvi. i), whennbsp;King Yudhishthira pays a visit of state to his predecessor (xv. xxiii. 7 f.),nbsp;when Abhimanyu�s child (Parikshit) is restored to life by Krshnanbsp;(xiv. Ixx. 6 if.).

These references and many others point rather to Type D than to Type A; narrative poetry is seldom, if ever, specifically mentioned innbsp;connection with performances of this kind. They would seem to havenbsp;more in common with the panegyrics delivered by the R�janya at thenbsp;time of the horse-sacrifice, as described in the �atapatha Br�hmana (cf.nbsp;p. 606), though they were often perhaps of a noisier character. Yet therenbsp;is reason for thinking that the panegyrists, or at least some of them, alsonbsp;cultivated narrative poetry.

Among the numerous terms applied to the minstrels or poets who pronounce the panegyrics we find occasionally the word �lrhy�na��la,nbsp;�versed in stories�, which seems to imply narrative. The terms, however,nbsp;which occur most frequently are s�ta and m�gadha. According to Prof.nbsp;Rapson^ �in the Br�hmanas the S�ta is the royal herald and minstrel,nbsp;and possibly also �master of the horse�. He is one of the king�s �jewels�nbsp;(ramzn) and ranks with the commander-in-chief of the army and othernbsp;high officers of state; and in his character as herald he was inviolable.nbsp;In the law-books he is described as the son of a Kshatriya by the daughternbsp;of a Brahman. The Pur�nas say that he was born to sing the praises ofnbsp;princes and that he was entrusted with the care of the historical andnbsp;legendary traditions; but they state definitely that he had no concernnbsp;with the Vedas {V�yu Pur. i. i, 26-28). In later times he appears as thenbsp;king�s charioteer,� etc. It may be added that the statement as to thenbsp;origin of the S�ta is repeated in one of the legal disquisitions in thenbsp;' Cambridge History of India, I. 297; cf. also Keith, ib. p. 130 f.

Mahabharata, xiii. xlviii. lo, where it is also stated that his duties are to recite eulogies and encomiums of kings and other great men. A littlenbsp;later (st. 12) the M�gadha or Vandin^ is said to be the son of a Vai�yanbsp;father and a Kshatriya mother; and it is added that his duties also are tonbsp;recite eulogies.

Apart from its occurrence in such references to panegyrics as have been noted above, the term s�ta is applied to several characters who arenbsp;mentioned more or less frequently in the Mahabharata. One of these isnbsp;Adhiratha, the charioteer who adopted and brought up Karna; the latternbsp;is often called �the S�ta�s son�.� Far more important, however, isnbsp;Sanjaya, King Dhrtar�shtra�s chief minister and confidential messenger.nbsp;Before the great battle he acts as the king�s envoy to the sons ofnbsp;P�ndu ; and during the battle he reports to him the progress of events..nbsp;He is the speaker throughout the greater part of Books vi-ix. Whennbsp;Dhrtar�shtra retires from the kingdom, Sanjaya accompanies him,nbsp;though he has not approved of his policy; and he is the only man whonbsp;remains with him to the end. In the introduction (i. i. 81) he is said tonbsp;be one of the three (living) men who know the Mahabharata. Elsewherenbsp;also he is represented as a man of great leaming.3 In vi. iv ff. he discourses at great length upon geography and cosmology, in order tonbsp;entertain the king.

Next we may turn to the Pur�nas.'^ These works to a large extent follow a common scheme, as was noticed in Ch. VII (p. 540). In theirnbsp;present form they are late; but it is believed that they preserve elementsnbsp;of great antiquity. They seem to have originated as varieties of a tradition, known as Itih�sa Pur�na, which was one of the recognised subjectsnbsp;of education in the time of the early Upanishads, and which is mentioned even in the Atharvaveda (xv. 6. 4). Now most of the Pur�nasnbsp;claim to be recited by a S�ta named Lomaharshana or his son Ugra-�ravas, commonly called Sauti or �the Suta�s son�, who have learned

* This word, which often occurs beside s�ta and m�gadha, though not so often as these, seems to mean �panegyrist� (from the verb vand, �to praise�); cf. note,nbsp;below. The word m�gadha is, we believe, generally thought to be derived from thenbsp;name of the kingdom Magadha.

� The same term is applied in iv. 14 ff. to Kicaka, the commander of Vir�ta�s army. He seems to be the queen�s brother and is evidently one of the leadingnbsp;persons in the kingdom (Matsya).

3 It may be observed that in in. cxxxiv. 21 Vandi (or perhaps �the Vandin�), who has brought Kahoda and many other Brahmans to their doom in contests of learning,nbsp;is described as �son of a S�ta�; cf. p. 505.

lt; For further information on this subject the reader may be referred to Rapson, Cambridge History of India, I. 296 ff., to which we are much indebted.

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 619 the subject from Vy�sa. The scene is sometimes laid at a great sacrificialnbsp;gathering of seers in the Naimisha forest; and the time is usually thenbsp;reign of Adhisimakrshna, a great-grandson of Janamejaya.� This is ofnbsp;course practically the same setting as that of the Mahabharata. Thenbsp;narrator here is Ugra�ravas, usually called Sauti, who has learned thenbsp;poem from Vai�amp�yana, the disciple of Vy�sa, its author. The scenenbsp;and the occasion are the same. The time is not precisely stated; butnbsp;Vai�amp�yana�s recitation is given before Janamejaya himself. Thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata therefore shares the tradition of the Pur�nas. Moreover,nbsp;though the dates given are not identical, this tradition is always referrednbsp;to what may be called the Br�hmana period. Janamejaya�s reign wasnbsp;apparently anterior to the time of any extant Br�hmanas, while that ofnbsp;Adhisimakrshna would seem to coincide more or less with the time ofnbsp;Udd�laka �runi and his contemporaries�probably c. 700 (cf. p. 514).

Many scholars would no doubt be unwilling to allow that either the Mahabharata or the Pur�nas are to be traced back so far as this. Yet thenbsp;fact that the composition and recitation of all these works is referred tonbsp;that period requires some explanation. Moreover it is to be borne innbsp;mind that in the Mah�bh�rata we hear much of Udd�laka �runi and hisnbsp;contemporaries, but practically nothing of any later seers or kings. Therenbsp;is abundant matter, doctrinal and other, which is doubtless of laternbsp;date; but the latest personnel is substantially^ that of the Br�hmananbsp;period�probably not later than the seventh century, and this seems tonbsp;be true also of the (heroic and other) episodes, though these may wellnbsp;have been incorporated in much later times. We do not mean to suggestnbsp;that anything like the Mah�bh�rata, as we know it, was in existence atnbsp;such an early date. But we think it bears the imprint of some influencenbsp;dating from that time. Perhaps it was then that heroic poetry firstnbsp;began to be cultivated by the learned.

It will be seen that both the Pur�nas and the Mah�bh�rata claim to be of Brahmanic origin. Vy�sa is the author; the S�ta or Sauti is merelynbsp;the reciter. But the question naturally arises : Why should a gatheringnbsp;of Brahmans require such a person to recite to them the work of anbsp;Brahman.^ There are apparently only two other persons who know thenbsp;Mah�bh�rata, and one of these is likewise a S�ta.3 We are under the

� In the Vishnu Parana the narrator is Par��ara (Vy�sa�s father), and the time is that of Parikshit, Janamejaya�s father.

� Details such as the incidental references to Yavana need not be taken into account. Catalogue poetry (e.g. Widsith) is especially subject to such additions.

3 Sanjaya (cf. p. 618). The other is �uka, apparently the son of Vy�sa (i. i. 81).

impression that most scholars now would be inclined to the view that in the original tradition the S�ta (Lomaharshana) was himself the author,nbsp;and that he was reduced to the position of reciter in favour of thenbsp;Brahman Vy�sa�perhaps in order to secure greater prestige for thenbsp;works; for their preservation is doubtless due to Brahmans. At allnbsp;events, like Sanjaya, he is regarded in the Mahabharata as a learned man.nbsp;In I. V his learning in the Pur�nas is known to Kulapati �aunaka, whonbsp;presides over the sacrificial gathering, and who asks his son (Sauti) if henbsp;also has studied them. In xii. cccxix. 21 Y�jnavalkya tells Janaka thatnbsp;after he had acquired his knowledge of the Yajurveda he studied thenbsp;Pur�nas with Romaharshana (Lomaharshana). He was evidently therefore a recognised authority on the subject.

It can hardly be doubted that the men who are described as � versed in narrative� (cf. p. 617) belonged in part to the S�ta class�in other wordsnbsp;that narrative, as well as panegyric, poetry was cultivated by this class.nbsp;Sanjaya is a skilled narrator, and much of Lomaharshana�s learningnbsp;necessarily involves a knowledge of heroic stories. Indeed it is unnecessary to suppose that Types A and D, narrative and panegyric,nbsp;were clearly distinguished. The S�ta class would seem to be the highestnbsp;which could make a profession of poetry. We may add that in thenbsp;Vishnu Pur�na, i. 13, �the S�ta� is said to have been produced in thenbsp;juice of the Soma at a great sacrifice. The M�gadha is produced at thenbsp;same time; and both are told by the seers that their special duty is tonbsp;praise Prthu, son of Vena, in honour of whom the sacrifice is beingnbsp;performed. Similar passages occur in other Pur�nas.^ The juice of thenbsp;Soma is the liquor of inspiration.

It is important to note that the traditions relating to the origin of the Mahabharata and the Pur�nas carry these works back to a period�thenbsp;time of Janamejaya and his successors�when the caste system must innbsp;reality have been comparatively new, if indeed it had already acquirednbsp;complete rigidity. How much truth the traditions contain we do notnbsp;know; but the evidence of the Atharvaveda shows that something callednbsp;Itih�sa Pur�na was in existence about this time. But it is difficult to seenbsp;how a S�ta caste (or sub-caste) can have existed before the Brahmannbsp;and Kshatriya castes came to be rigidly separated from one another.nbsp;Before that time we have to think rather of classes and families than ofnbsp;castes.

Now it is clear from the Rgveda that before the caste system became fixed there were a number of ecclesiastical families�perhaps we may saynbsp;' Cf. also Mah�bh. xii. lix. 112 f.; but there is no reference to Soma here.

Brahman families�which must already have had a fairly long history, and which apparently possessed their own collections of hymns. Wenbsp;may also note that in the earlier Rgvedic period, the times of Divod�sa,nbsp;Sudas and Trasadasyu, references to the generosity of kings occurnbsp;frequently in the hymns, but that after these times such references become rare � we cannot trace the history of the royal families, nor evennbsp;count the generations. From this it would seem to be a legitimate inference that the old Brahmanic families became less dependent upon thenbsp;kings. The claim to superiority which the Brahman caste maintained innbsp;later times may already have been beginning.

The S�ta and the M�gadha, as also the R�janya mentioned in the passage from the �atapatha Br�hmana cited on p. 605 f., doubtlessnbsp;represent different classes of intellectual persons connected by blood ornbsp;service with the royal families. Such persons had presumably alwaysnbsp;had the function of composing panegyrics upon kings. They were alsonbsp;the persons best qualified for the cultivation of antiquarian learning innbsp;relation to the kingdoms; and we need not hesitate to add the cultivationnbsp;of heroic stories, upon which this learning must to some extent depend.nbsp;There was moreover a time, if we may believe the traditions, when thenbsp;priesthood with its privileges was open to such persons�when thenbsp;Brahman and the Kshatriya were not yet separated by barriers of birth�nbsp;but this came to an end. The priesthood became reserved for those whonbsp;were of Brahman blood, while those who were not retained the functionnbsp;of praising and entertaining kings and of cultivating such learning asnbsp;related to kings. The old Brahman families, if the observation made abovenbsp;is correct, had ceased to be interested in learning of this kind; and thenbsp;result was a cleavage between ecclesiastical and secular learning�eachnbsp;caste preserving its own (oral) literature. This cleavage was only temporary; for both the Mah�bh�rata and the Pur�nas have been preservednbsp;by Brahmans. We do not know when Brahmans adopted them. Thenbsp;tradition which connects the Brahman Vy�sa with them should perhapsnbsp;not be wholly disregarded. But we are under the impression thatnbsp;Brahmans of the more conservative type, whose concern lay with thenbsp;Vedas, have always regarded this learning with a certain contempt.

There can be no doubt that both the Pur�nas and the Mah�bh�rata, as we have them, have received very large additions from Brahmanicnbsp;sources. Indeed it is possible that four of the five sections of which a

� Encomiums upon the munificence of the sacrificing king may still have been composed�as is implied in �at. Br. xiii. 1.5. 6�but they were apparently not as anbsp;rule preserved.

Pur�na is traditionally said to consist (cf. p. 540), may come ultimately from such sources, though they can hardly be derived from the Vedas ornbsp;any other extant Brahmanic works. But some of the learning seems to benbsp;of foreign origin. Such is probably the case with the doctrine of thenbsp;�Ages� which occupies the fourth traditional section in the Pur�nas andnbsp;occurs frequently in the Mah�bh�rata. It has been mentioned abovenbsp;(p. 540) that every �great age� {mahayuga} consists of four recurrentnbsp;�ages� each of which is worse than its predecessor. These agesnbsp;bear the names Krta, Tret�, Dv�para and Kali, derived from the 4, 3, 2nbsp;and ace of dice (cf. p. 546). They last 4000, 3000, 2000 and 1000 yearsnbsp;respectively, thus making altogether a cycle of ten thousand years.nbsp;Sometimes the last age ends in a world-catastrophe, as in Mah�bh. iii.nbsp;clxxxviii.� A much simpler form of this doctrine is known to Hesiod, asnbsp;we have seen; but his ages are not recurrent, though each of them isnbsp;worse than its predecessor, just as in the Indian scheme. On the othernbsp;hand the conception of a recurrent �great year� or cycle ending in anbsp;world-catastrophe seems to have been fairly widespread among Greeknbsp;philosophers of the sixth century, though apparently little or nothing isnbsp;known of its details. If the-�great year� was really estimated at tennbsp;thousand years, as is commonly supposed, the coincidence with thenbsp;Indian scheme can hardly be accidental.3 It may be then that the circlesnbsp;in which the Pur�nas and the Mah�bh�rata originated were more affectednbsp;by external influence than the Vedic schools. But the date of suchnbsp;influence is difficult to determine.

The part played by women in Indian literature of the earliest periods is remarkably slight. Even among the deities the only important figurenbsp;with any developed personality is Sarasvati the goddess of speech andnbsp;learning; and her identity with the River Sarasvati, of which she is anbsp;personification, is generally remembered. Mortal women seem to be

� Cf. Mah�bh. in. clxxxviii. 22 ff., where �twilights� are included. Sometimes (morning and evening) twilights are added to each age, and these have the effect ofnbsp;increasing each 1000 years to 1200.

� Incidental references to the catastrophe also occur (e.g. vi. clxxvi. 26), which show that the idea was familiar.

3 We suspect that the origin of most of these speculations is to be sought in Mesopotamia, and that they travelled east and west from thence, not all at once but innbsp;a series of �waves of influence�, beginning perhaps in the ninth century. It isnbsp;apparently to the same quarter, and during the same period, that India owes thenbsp;story of the Flood, the introduction of writing, etc. But we are not qualified tonbsp;deal with the question.

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 623 comparatively seldom mentioned, except in spells, either in the Vedas ornbsp;the Br�hmanas. Yet it is clear from the Upanishads that women, at leastnbsp;in the Brahman caste, were sometimes educated. Thus in the Brha-d�ranyaka, iv. 5 (cf. ii. 4), Y�jnavalkya has two wives, one of whom hasnbsp;some knowledge of philosophy, while the other is without intellectualnbsp;interests. Among the philosophers or seers who interrogate Y�jnavalkyanbsp;at Janaka�s contest (cf. p. 503) there is a lady, named G�rg� V�caknav�,nbsp;who challenges him twice (ji. iii. 6, 8).

In the Mahabharata, especially the heroic portions, women are far more prominent. In the episodes of Nala and S�vitri, and perhaps alsonbsp;in that of Amb�, the chief character is a woman. The same is true of thenbsp;shorter story of �akuntal� and the speeches of Vidul�. In the centralnbsp;story Draupadi is one of the leading characters. These women are quitenbsp;equal to the heroines of Western heroic poetry in their capacity for anbsp;vigorous initiative and sometimes far superior to their husbands innbsp;personality. Some of them, especially �akuntal� and Vidul�, are skilfulnbsp;speakers.

It may be observed that the speeches in both these last cases are examples of gnomic wisdom of different kinds. The cultivation of manticism bynbsp;women, apart from the mantic philosophy of the Upanishads, seems tonbsp;be rare. Kunti possesses a spell (cf. p. 579); but this has been given tonbsp;her by a Brahman. She can hardly be regarded as a witch. Damayant�nbsp;kills the hunter who insults her, apparently by her curse. Such cases,nbsp;however, are uncommon, and we have not noticed any instances ofnbsp;professional witchcraft, or of prophecy by women. This would seem tonbsp;point to a rather noticeable difference between early India andnbsp;Europe.

To what extent was poetry cultivated by women j* Royal ladies were evidently expected to recite elegies or dirges over dead relatives, just asnbsp;in Europe. An example is to be found in Gandh�ri�s elegy for her sonsnbsp;in XI. xvi ff. Further, from the fact that Vidul�s speeches are recited bynbsp;Kunti it may be inferred that recitations of heroic poetry by such personsnbsp;were not unfamiliar. But were these speeches, or any of the existingnbsp;stories, composed by women ? That seems to us not impossible; but itnbsp;would be difficult to prove. We should be inclined rather to the view that,nbsp;whoever may have been the authors, the stories of Nala and of S�vitr�nbsp;were composed primarily for the entertainment of royal ladies, or atnbsp;least as much for them as for princes. It is clear from what Arjunanbsp;promises to do in iv. ii, when he wishes to enter Vir�ta�s service, thatnbsp;stories were popular among the ladies of the courts.

On the subject of inspiration we have little to add to what has been noted incidentally in previous chapters. The hymns of the Rgveda werenbsp;traditionally regarded as due to inspiration in the strictest sense. Thenbsp;poets were seers (rsi),^ to whom the hymns were revealed, or rathernbsp;perhaps revealed themselves. In the Brahmanas and very often in thenbsp;Upanishads tradition is all-important. Sometimes, as in the Brhad�-ranyaka Upanishad, �genealogies� are given, which trace doctrinesnbsp;through a long line of teachers back to the gods. New inspiration, however, seems not to be wholly wanting. It is to be obtained apparentlynbsp;by sitting in silence behind the altar after performing some rite (cf.nbsp;p. 578). Instruction is given by various animate and inanimate things;nbsp;but such incidents are hardly meant to be taken literally.

In the Mahabharata we meet with a number of the same teachers who figure in the Upanishads; but here the inspiration takes a different form.nbsp;Sarasvati, the goddess of speech and learning, appears both to �vetaketunbsp;and to Y�jnavalkya; the latter is inspired also by S�rya, the Sun-god.nbsp;Usually, however, in the Mahabharata the place of inspiration is takennbsp;by asceticism (yoga), an essential feature of which was the concentrationnbsp;of thought upon a particular object or idea. In course of time the yoganbsp;was developed into a very elaborate and complicated system, whichnbsp;need not be discussed here.^ But the concentration of thought involvednbsp;in it is usually found in association with mantic activities, in Europe^ asnbsp;well as in India. In the Mahabharata it is credited with a magical power,nbsp;for which the most extravagant and fantastic claims are made. The cultivation of this faculty doubtless dates from a period before the growthnbsp;of asceticism. For it is not essentially different from the meditationsnbsp;which we find in the Upanishads; and even in the Atharvaveda (xi. 5),nbsp;the Brahmacarin4 or �devotee� is credited with properties similar tonbsp;those which later are attributed to the ascetic. �Asceticism� seems tonbsp;have begun in the form of retirement to the forest on the part of elderlynbsp;men. In the Upanishads this is found in the case of Brahman teachers ;

� It may be noted that the word kavi, �poet�, also means �seer��which indeed is generally thought to have been its original meaning; in the pl. it denotes �the wise�,nbsp;� sages �. It is instructive to compare these meanings with those of Irish �li andnbsp;Norse pulr-, cf. Vol. i, pp. 602 ff., 606, 618 f.

� A short but instructive account will be found in the introduction to the translation of the Bhagavad-Gita by L. D. Barnett (Temple Classics), p. 29 ff.

3 We may refer to the use of the word pencan (�think, meditate�) and the phrase purh trumne gepanc (�with steadfast thought, intent mind�) in Anglo-Saxon spells.

�* In the Mah�bh�rata this term is used for those who are under a vow of temporary asceticism, like the sons of P�ndu.

RECITATION AND COMPOSITION. THE AUTHOR 625 in the Mahabharata it is a fairly common practice with princes, as wellnbsp;as Brahmans. But in the latter we hear also of children brought up asnbsp;ascetics from their birth.

In Europe we observed that inspiration was very commonly associated with springs. For such association in early India we have not found anynbsp;evidence, though sacred pools and rivers are not rare. In particular wenbsp;may note the sacred river Sarasvati, of which the goddess of speech andnbsp;learning is a personification.

The inspiring drink which is found in various European lands (cf. Vol. I, p. 651 ff.) has an Indian parallel in the juice of the soma, whichnbsp;was very largely used in offerings to the gods. In the Rgveda Indra isnbsp;represented as strengthened by these offerings for his combats withnbsp;demons and alien enemies. The juice, which seems to have been of annbsp;intoxicating character, was drunk only by Brahmans, and apparently onlynbsp;at sacrifices. In the Pur�nas the S�ta is said to have been born from itnbsp;(cf. p. 620). The personified Soma was regarded as a great deity, and allnbsp;the hymns of Book ix of the Rgveda are addressed to him. The cultnbsp;would seem to be very ancient, for it is found also in the Avesta.

For the use of music in this connection we have not been able to find any satisfactory evidence. The hymns of the S�maveda�most of whichnbsp;come from the Rgveda�were chanted at sacrifices; but we do not knownbsp;whether there was any instrumental accompaniment. Neither do wenbsp;know whether music, vocal or instrumental, was used for spells. Fornbsp;the other mantic accessories noted in Vol. i, p. 653 ff.�the seer�s wandnbsp;and chair�we have not found any early Indian parallels. The Mahabharata has much to say about snakes; but they do not seem to conveynbsp;inspiration.

INTRODUCTION LITERATURE AND WRITINGnbsp;There can be little doubt that the earliest literature of thenbsp;Hebrews, like that of India, is derived in large part from oralnbsp;tradition. But both the nature of the records and the history ofnbsp;their transmission seem to be very different in the two cases.

In both literatures the religious element is predominant. But Indian literature begins with great collections of poems, consisting at firstnbsp;almost entirely of hymns. On the other hand the earliest Hebrew recordsnbsp;are chiefly prose; very little hymn poetry is believed to date fromnbsp;the oldest period. The earliest Hebrew prose is occupied in part withnbsp;ritual observances, like the Br�hmanas, the earliest Indian prose�butnbsp;not to anything like the same extent as the latter. Saga, which occursnbsp;only in brief examples and incidentally in the Br�hmanas, forms thenbsp;largest and most important element in the earliest Hebrew records.nbsp;Narrative poetry, both religious and secular, is well represented in earlynbsp;Indian literature, though it is not preserved in very early form; but innbsp;early Hebrew literature it seems to be entirely wanting. One of thenbsp;greatest difficulties in early Indian literature is the absence of historicalnbsp;records. In Hebrew on the other hand historical study, together with anbsp;keen sense for chronology, was cultivated from a very early period.

The forms of literature most fully represented in the earliest records seem to be heroic and (more especially) non-heroic saga, antiquariannbsp;learning of all kinds and mantic poetry. The three latter are closelynbsp;connected, and on the whole antiquarian interest is paramount. It camenbsp;to be combined with the study of historical records, and eventuallynbsp;provided the learned world with a scheme of universal history.

In regard to the transmission of early records Hebrew literary history seems to have differed very greatly from that of India. It is generallynbsp;thought that early Indian texts have for the most part undergone butnbsp;little change from the time when they were first committed to writing;nbsp;but early Hebrew texts are believed to have had a complicated history.nbsp;Even those which are best preserved, such as the prophecies of Amos,nbsp;are said to have received a number of interpolations; in the prophecies of

Isaiah the additions are thought to amount to at least half, and probably very much more, of the whole collection.

It is, however, in the antiquarian and historical books with which the Old Testament begins-�from Genesis to Kings�that the most importantnbsp;changes are believed to have taken place. These books must havenbsp;existed practically in their present form in the third century, when thenbsp;Greek translation was made. But it is thought that not long�probablynbsp;not more than two centuries�before this time they had undergone anbsp;very great amount of change. The text of Genesis, Exodus, Numbersnbsp;and Joshua is believed to have received its present form through thenbsp;combination (conflation) of two parallel accounts, one of which, knownnbsp;as JE,^ was of considerable antiquity, while the other, known as thenbsp;�Priests� Code� (P), was much later, though it was probably not thenbsp;work of one author or of one period. Leviticus is attributed wholly tonbsp;the latter, though it contains at least one considerable element whichnbsp;has a unity of its own. Deuteronomy is believed to have been originallynbsp;a separate work; but it has incorporated in the later chapters (xxvii-xxxiv) a good deal from JE and a little from P. In Joshua the elementnbsp;derived from JE is thought to have been edited and augmented by anbsp;writer under the influence of Deuteronomy before it was combined withnbsp;P. Lastly, it is held that JE itself was formed by the combination of twonbsp;texts (J and E), which were originally distinct but contained parallelnbsp;accounts of the same subjects and events. It is thought that differentnbsp;strata can be distinguished in each of these, and also that considerablenbsp;additions were made to JE, after this conflate text had come into existence. But there is some difference of opinion as to how far these latternbsp;distinctions can be traced.

For the complex textual history involved in this analysis fairly close analogies are to be found in annals and chronicles of the Dark Ages.nbsp;The early annals of the Saxon Chronicle will provide a good enoughnbsp;illustration. But the texts with which we are concerned here were notnbsp;annals, but compositions of a character which would render such combination or conflation less easy to effect. It is indeed difiicult for anbsp;student of early Western literature to resist the suspicion that thisnbsp;analysis has been carried too far. The process would of course be more

� J, E, JE, and P are the abbreviations regularly employed for the hypothetical texts postulated by modem critical writers. J and E are derived from the termsnbsp;Jehovah (Engl, transi, �the Lord�) and Elohim (Engl, transi. �God�) applied to thenbsp;deity in these two texts respectively. JE denotes the combination of J and E. P isnbsp;called the � Book of Origins � by some scholars.

631 easily intelligible if J and E had an independent existence only as oralnbsp;variants�from which they are believed to have been derived�or if Pnbsp;were mainly of �editorial� origin. But these are questions which mustnbsp;obviously be left to experts ; and we understand that there is little difference of opinion in regard to the main features of the analysis. Wenbsp;shall therefore take it as our basis, where questions of textual history arenbsp;involved.�

The next series of books, Judges, Samuel and Kings, are likewise believed to be of composite origin. The greater part of Judges�fromnbsp;ii. 6 to the end of xvi�is thought by many scholars to have beennbsp;arranged or edited by a writer under the influence of Deuteronomy.nbsp;But the first chapter and the last eight chapters are regarded as earlynbsp;fragments, which have not been affected by this influence. Other,nbsp;and more recent, writers, however, hold that this threefold divisionnbsp;of Judges applies properly only to its subject matter, not to its literarynbsp;history. They believe the textual sources to be the same as in thenbsp;Hexateuch, with the addition of a late form of E (E 2). They limit thenbsp;Deuteronomic element (D) to portions of cap. ii f.

The composite origin of Samuel is perhaps more apparent than that of any of the preceding books. The greater part of Book II, and probablynbsp;also much of Book I, comes from a good early text, which some scholarsnbsp;regard as identical or connected with J. Among the other elementsnbsp;there is one�in the first half of Book I�which is commonly connectednbsp;with E, and which seems to have been written originally as a continuation of the story of the Judges, perhaps as a sequel to the central portionnbsp;of that book. The last four chapters of Book II are in the nature of annbsp;appendix, the introduction of which has broken into the continuity ofnbsp;the narrative derived from the earliest text. The continuation of cap. xxnbsp;is apparently to be found in I Kings i f.

The rest of Kings (after the first two chapters) seems to have been compiled or edited by a writer under the influence of Deuteronomy.nbsp;Cap. iii-xi of Book I are thought to be derived largely from the � Booknbsp;of the Acts of Solomon�, referred to in xi. 41, while some of the materialnbsp;in the later parts is doubtless drawn from the � Book of the Chronicles ofnbsp;the Kings of Israel� and the �Book of the Chronicles of the Kings ofnbsp;Judah�, both of which are frequently cited.

It must be understood that what has been said above applies to the textual history of the books specified, not to the character or ultimate

origin of the matter contained in them. The latter subject will need discussion in the following chapters. The Books of Judges, Samuel andnbsp;Kings, which are of somewhat heterogeneous character, will be treatednbsp;in Chs. II and iii, the Hexateuch in Ch. vi.

The evidence for writing in Palestine goes back to remote times. The earliest examples apparently are monuments and objects of variousnbsp;kinds bearing Egyptian inscriptions. Under the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Dynasties�from the sixteenth to the close of the thirteenthnbsp;centuries�the country was included within the Egyptian dominions.nbsp;Indeed it was apparently not much before the middle of the twelfthnbsp;century that Egyptian rule came to an end. Cuneiform (Assyrian)nbsp;writing seems to have been even more widely known. Many lettersnbsp;in this script, written by princes and governors in Palestine duringnbsp;the early part of the fourteenth century, were found among thenbsp;Egyptian archives at El Amarna; and similar letters have occasionallynbsp;been found in Palestine itself.

Early evidence for writing in the native language is less easy to find. But it must have been in use even for literary purposes in the cities ofnbsp;the coast; for the Ras Shamra tablets, which date from the fourteenthnbsp;and thirteenth centuries, preserve large fragments of poetry, inscribednbsp;in an alphabetic variety of cuneiform.� In the story of Wenamon, whichnbsp;relates to a time not long before 1100, the ruler of Byblos produces hisnbsp;family archives, though apparently neither the language nor the form ofnbsp;writing employed in them is recorded. He is said, however, to importnbsp;papyrus rolls from Egypt. In the interior nothing in the native languagenbsp;has yet been found which can be dated before the ninth century, exceptnbsp;a few fragments of inscriptions on broken pottery. The most importantnbsp;of these, in an early form of Hebrew alphabet, are painted upon vesselsnbsp;discovered at Tell Duweir, which is believed to be Lachish, and datingnbsp;from the first half of the thirteenth century.^ A small fragment fromnbsp;Beth-shemesh is thought to be still earlier. From the ninth century onwards examples seem to become rather more frequent; and there are anbsp;few stone monuments inscribed in the old Hebrew character. The most

� The language is commonly called Hebrew or Phoenician, but appears to be somewhat different. It was presumably the native language of the district before thenbsp;Aramaean conquest, cf. Cantineau, Syria, xiii. 164 ff.

� Cf. The Times, 28 July 1934, 24 June 1935. Marston, The Bible is Trite, p. 262 and pl. The inscription on the tomb of Ahiram at Byblos is now ascribed to thenbsp;same period. The Tell Duweir writing is thought by some to supply a connecting link with the much earlier inscriptions in the Sinai peninsula.

633 important of these is the one which commemorates the victories ofnbsp;Mesha, king of Moab (c. 850). From about the same time date numerousnbsp;ostraka from Samaria�apparently pottery tickets, used for purposes ofnbsp;taxation, and inscribed with a reed pen.

In early Hebrew literature itself references to writing are common enough in works relating to the seventh century; and there can be littlenbsp;doubt that at that time it was widely known. Even in works and passagesnbsp;relating to the ninth and tenth centuries such references are not at allnbsp;rare. Thus in II Kings x. i Jehu writes letters to the rulers of Jezreelnbsp;regarding the children of Ahab. Again, ib. v. 5, the king of Syria sends anbsp;letter of introduction for his officer Naaman to Jehoram, king of Israel.nbsp;In I Kings xxi. 8, Jezebel writes letters to the elders of Jezreel withnbsp;reference to Naboth; she writes them in the name of her husband, Ahab,nbsp;and signs them with his seal. In II Sam. xi. 14 f. David writes to Joab,nbsp;instructing him with regard to Uriah, who is the bearer of the letter. Innbsp;I Sam. X. 25 it is stated that Samuel wrote �the manner of the kingdom. . .in a book, and laid it up before Jehovah�.

We may note, further, that in lists of court and state officials mention is sometimes made of one or more scribes. Examples occur in the listsnbsp;of David�s and Solomon�s officials (II Sam. viii. 17, xx. 25 ; I Kingsiv. 3),nbsp;as well as in those of Hezekiah�s time and later.

Lastly, it may be observed that writing is mentioned in a number of passages in the Hexateuch. Sometimes the reference is to the tables ofnbsp;stone inscribed by Moses or by the finger of God (e.g. Ex. xxxi. 18,nbsp;xxxii. 15 f., xxxiv. 27 f.) ; but elsewhere Moses is said to write a book (fh.nbsp;xxiv. 4,7). All these passages are generally supposed to be derived fromnbsp;one or other of the hypothetical early texts E and J, chiefly from thenbsp;former. Here also we may note Josh. viii. 32, where Joshua inscribes anbsp;copy of the Law upon the unhewn stones of an altar�presumablynbsp;boulders. This passage is supposed to be late and due to the influence ofnbsp;Deut, xxvii. 1-8; but it is of interest as suggesting that the author wasnbsp;aware of such a custom.

There seems to be no decisive evidence for dating any of the early works, including the hypothetical texts, noticed above. But we understand that according to the views now most prevalent^ both E and Jnbsp;' But there is still much difference of opinion, some scholars preferring earlier,nbsp;others later dates. Thus Albright {Archaeology of Palestine and the Bible, pp. 147,nbsp;154 ff., 213) ascribes J to thej late eighth, E to the early seventh century, but datesnbsp;the bulk of Deuteronomy to the ninth. The antiquity of all the elements in thenbsp;narrative books, including J and E and the �court-history� of II Samuel�at least innbsp;their present form�is doubted by Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. iii. 473 ff.

were written in the early part of the eighth century, the latter perhaps even in the ninth. The oldest element in Samuel, the narrative whichnbsp;occupies at least nearly half of Book II, is thought to be still older.nbsp;Some scholars believe it to be almost contemporary with the events�nbsp;which would carry it back to perhaps the middle of the tenth century.

From what has been said it will be clear enough that the use of writing for literary purposes was to all appearance much earlier in Palestine thannbsp;in either Greece or India. And this conclusion is fully in accordancenbsp;with the historical evidence. In Greece the eighth century can hardly benbsp;regarded as coming within the historical period; in India history beginsnbsp;much later. But the Books of Kings give us full lists of the kings ofnbsp;Israel and Judah, together with the length of their reigns and variousnbsp;other information; and it can be determined from occasional referencesnbsp;in Egyptian and Assyrian records that the chronology is not seriouslynbsp;in error. The invasion of Judah by Shishak (Sheshonk I), king ofnbsp;Egypt, related in I Kings xiv. 25 if., is known from a contemporarynbsp;inscription at Karnak to have taken place c. 930. For the precedingnbsp;reigns�those of David and Solomon�foreign evidence is wanting,nbsp;owing doubtless to the fact that little is known of the neighbouringnbsp;powers, or at least of their external relations, during that period. But innbsp;view of the character of tlie Hebrew records themselves, at least fornbsp;David�s time, we may regard the tenth century as a historical or semi-historical period in Palestine.

This can hardly be said of the earlier periods. The story of Samuel may preserve some historical information. But there is thought to benbsp;a discrepancy in the records in regard to his position. In one series ofnbsp;passages�representing one of the constituent texts noticed above�henbsp;appears to be merely a seer or prophet; in another series�which arenbsp;believed to represent the later text�he is also the judge and ruler. Thenbsp;Book of Judges is generally recognised to be derived from traditions.nbsp;Much of it must relate to the times when Palestine was under Egyptiannbsp;rule; and the same is true of Joshua and the earlier Books. They are verynbsp;largely concerned with political affairs; yet they never preserve anynbsp;recollection of this rule�which must have lasted till within a centurynbsp;of Samuel�s time.

The Book of Judges would seem to be derived from a number of stories (sagas), which were originally (more or less) independent, butnbsp;were brought together and connected by an editor, or perhaps a series ofnbsp;editors. On the other hand the constituent elements in I Samuel, justnbsp;as in the Pentateuch, are believed to have been more in the form of

635 consecutive narratives. Yet the discrepancies between the narratives cannbsp;hardly be explained except by derivation from variant forms of saga.nbsp;And it may be observed that these discrepancies are not limited to thenbsp;story of Samuel himself. Equally clear examples are to be found in thenbsp;story of David, which follows. As an instance we may cite the differentnbsp;accounts of the first meeting between David and Saul. In xvi. 18 ff.nbsp;they meet first when David is brought to Saul�s court as a minstrel; henbsp;is described as � cunning in playing, and a mighty man of valour, and anbsp;man of war, and prudent in speech�. But in the following chapter,nbsp;when David fights with Goliath, he is described as a youth, evidentlynbsp;inexperienced in warfare; and Saul does not know who he is (cf. xvii.nbsp;55 ff.). A more serious discrepancy is to be found between this latternbsp;story and II Sam. xxi. 19, according to which Goliath was slain not bynbsp;David but by a certain Elhanan, the son of Jaare-oregim the Beth-le-hemite.^ It may be noted that the same description of Goliath�s spearshaft is given in this passage and in I Sam. xvii. 7.

A comparison between I Sam. xxiv and xxvi is still more important for the purpose of tracing the origin of these stories. In both cases Saulnbsp;sets out with three thousand men in pursuit of David. In both cases henbsp;is surprised by his intended victim, who has him at his mercy butnbsp;refuses to take his life. Then follows a conversation, in which the twonbsp;accounts have a considerable element in common. In the details of thenbsp;adventures there is much discrepancy ; but it is clear enough that we havenbsp;here a typical instance of saga-variants. We see no reason for doubtingnbsp;that many of the other discrepancies � are of similar origin�i.e. that thenbsp;First Book of Samuel is largely, if not wholly, derived from saga.

Similar discrepancies are to be found in the Books of Kings, especially in the stories relating to the prophets Elijah and Elisha. Thus in I. xxinbsp;Naboth lives at Jezreel and is put to death there; and {ib. 19) Elijahnbsp;prophesies to Ahab that dogs will lick his blood in the same place wherenbsp;they have licked the blood of Naboth. But in xxii. 38, where this prophecy is said to be fulfilled, the scene is Samaria, some five and twentynbsp;miles from Jezreel. The confusion is possibly due to Elijah�s further

� Some scholars identify Elhanan with David. But the records profess to know the origin of the former, though they are not in agreement as to his father�s name ;nbsp;cf. II Sam. xxiii. 24; I Chron. xx. 5. In the last passage the person slain by Elhanan isnbsp;not Goliath, but his brother Lahmi.

* Sometimes one may hesitate to use the word �variants�, as in the accounts of David�s two visits to Achish (I Sam. xxi. 11 ff. and xxvii), which have hardly anythingnbsp;in common. But it is difficult to believe that they can have belonged originally tonbsp;the same story.

prophecy, given in xxi. 23, that Jezebel will be eaten by dogs in Jezreel �^which is fulfilled, long afterwards, in II Kings ix. 35 f. Again, innbsp;I. xix. 15 f. Elijah, who is in Horeb, is said to be ordered by Jehovah tonbsp;return to Damascus and anoint Hazael to be king over Syria; he is alsonbsp;to anoint Jehu to be king over Israel and Elisha to be his own successornbsp;as prophet. He sets off at once to find Elisha (ib. 19 ff.), who immediatelynbsp;follows him; but nothing more is said as to the rest of the commission.nbsp;In II. viii. 13 Elisha prophesies to Hazael that he will be king of Syria�nbsp;a prophecy which is fulfilled the next day, when he murders Ben-hadad.nbsp;And in the following chapter (ix. i ff.) Elisha sends one of his followersnbsp;to anoint Jehu. These discrepancies can hardly be due to oversight onnbsp;the part of a compiler. They are clearly derived from divergencies in thenbsp;tradition. But it is equally clear that the stories of Elijah and Elisha cannot fairly be regarded as a somewhat confused set of reminiscences.nbsp;They bear all the marks of a very elaborate and artistic form of saga, innbsp;which a strong sense of dramatic propriety has been developed. Wenbsp;may refer (e.g.) to the dogs.

It has been mentioned above that the latter part of the story of David �in particular II Sam. ix-xx and I Kings i f.�is believed by somenbsp;scholars to be a contemporary or almost contemporary literary work.nbsp;So far as we are aware the chapters in question present no features incompatible with such an interpretation; but at the same time we know ofnbsp;no positive evidence in its favour, apart from the fullness of detail andnbsp;the general verisimilitude and liveliness of the narrative. The style is thatnbsp;of saga, though this fact in itself is inconclusive�for a literary narrativenbsp;style is often derived from saga. But it is worth noting that the narrativenbsp;bears a rather close general resemblance to the �Sagas of Icelanders� andnbsp;to some stories in the (Icelandic) � Sagas of Kings ��among which wenbsp;may instance the Sagas of �lafr Tryggvason and St Olaf in thenbsp;Heimskringla. These sagas show the same verisimilitude and liveliness,nbsp;together with fullness of detail, and in general, though they contain anbsp;large imaginative element, they may be regarded as historical authorities,nbsp;in so far as they deal with countries which were intimately known; butnbsp;they were not committed to writing within a century and a half�sometimes more than two centuries�of the events. It is extremely difficult,nbsp;without external evidence, to distinguish sagas of this highly elaboratenbsp;form from contemporary memoirs written in a saga-style. But in viewnbsp;of the evident use of saga in the early part of the story of David, itnbsp;seems probable that the later part also is derived from saga rather thannbsp;from memoirs. For the difference between the earlier and later parts

INTRODUCTION nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;637

many analogies can be found in Icelandic sagas. The early chapters of the latter frequently contain unhistorical elements.

For the story of David, unfortunately, external evidence seems to be wholly wanting. But we must not overlook the references to writingnbsp;noticed on p. 632 f. especially those from Israelitish (Biblical) literature.nbsp;The Phoenician evidence is less certain here; for it is very probable thatnbsp;civilisation was more advanced in the coast cities than in the interior.nbsp;Account must also be taken of the written authorities cited in the Booksnbsp;of Kings, viz. the �Book of the Acts of Solomon�, the �Book of thenbsp;Chronicles of the Kings of Israel�, and the �Book of the Chronicles ofnbsp;the Kings of Judah�. But the date of these lost works is uncertain, so wenbsp;will postpone discussion of this until later.

First we will take the references to writing in the Books of Samuel and Kings�before the seventh century. It will be seen that with onenbsp;exception these all relate to letters. The only exception is the obscurenbsp;passage in I Sam. x. 25, quoted on p. 633. This would seem to mean thatnbsp;Samuel entered Saul�s appointment�or the terms of his appointment�nbsp;as king in a register. It is hardly evidence for �literature�. Moreover itnbsp;is believed to come from the later of the constituent elements in the storynbsp;of Samuel�the element which, as here, represents Samuel as ruler, andnbsp;which is generally thought to date from a time between two and threenbsp;centuries later than that of Samuel.

With the evidence of the letters we may take the references to scribes noted on p. 633. One of David�s scribes, mentioned in I Chron. xviii.nbsp;16, is believed, from his name (Shavsha) to have been a Babylonian^�nbsp;which may point to the use of cuneiform, though there can be no doubtnbsp;that the Hebrew (North Semitic) alphabet was also known. The dutiesnbsp;of such persons would presumably be chiefly in connection with correspondence and ofiicial records. But princes also are represented asnbsp;able to read and write. In II Sam. xi. 14 f. David writes an extremelynbsp;confidential letter to his commander-in-chief, which his knight, Uriah,nbsp;who is the bearer, is evidently unable to read. The incident has beennbsp;compared with a passage in the Iliad (vi. 168 ff.) relating to Proitos andnbsp;Bellerophon, to which it bears an obvious resemblance, though unfortunately we do not know what the writing was in the latter case. Butnbsp;we may also compare a very similar story told by Saxo Grammaticus �nbsp;� Cf. Hall, Ancient History of the Near East, p. 429; Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. 11.334.

Ed. Holder, p. 92 (p. 113 in Elton�s transi.). The words are Uteras ligno in-sculptas {nam id celebre quondam genus chartarum erai) secum gestantes. With the incident we may compare Atlamdl, st. 4, 9 ff., where Gudrun sends to her brothersnbsp;a message of warning in Runic letters, which are tampered with by the messenger.

how Amlethus (Hamlet) was sent with a letter inscribed on wood instructing the recipient to put him to death. This story is not preserved in the vernacular; but the following words, �writing materials of thisnbsp;kind were much used in the past�, leave no room for doubt that Runicnbsp;writing is meant. It is of interest therefore to note that this kind ofnbsp;writing was in use in the North for perhaps a thousand years before thenbsp;beginning of written literature, and also that princes and noblemen werenbsp;expected to know it. The knowledge of reading and writing may benbsp;widespread, where there is no written literature; and consequently thenbsp;references under discussion in the Hebrew records do not prove thenbsp;existence of the latter.

We may now turn to the three (lost) works mentioned above which are cited in the Books of Kings. It is generally believed that these Books,nbsp;apart from the first two chapters of I Kings, were compiled, at least innbsp;the main, from the works in question and from stories of the prophets.nbsp;As to the source of the latter nothing seems to be known, though somenbsp;of them would seem to be derived ultimately from saga, as noted above.nbsp;The compiler, who brought together and edited these materials, wasnbsp;much influenced by Deuteronomy, and his additions are easy to distinguish owing to the peculiarities of his phraseology. It used to benbsp;thought that the compilation must have been made after the year 621,^nbsp;when a �Book of the Law� was discovered in the Temple, as related innbsp;II Kings xxii. 8 ff.; but the identity of this book with Deuteronomy isnbsp;now doubted,^ and the date of Deuteronomy itself much disputed. Atnbsp;all events there can be no doubt that a written literature was in existencenbsp;by this time. The �book� was presumably a roll (of papyrus), such as isnbsp;described, not much later, in Jerem. xxxvi. 4, 18, 23, and implied innbsp;Is. xxxiv. 4.

The story of Solomon contained in I Kings iii-xi is believed to be taken in the main from the �Book of the Acts of Solomon�, cited innbsp;xi. 41. If this is correct, the Book in question must have been of considerable length, and we may fairly regard it as an example of writtennbsp;literature. Unfortunately nothing seems to be known as to its date.

� II Kings xviii. 5 would seem to suggest a somewhat earlier date; but we understand that the general opinion of Hebrew scholars is against this suggestion.

Cf. Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. HI. 396. The book is read twice in a day, and consequently would seem to have been much shorter than Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy is now attributed by some scholars to the sixth century or later (ib. 484 f.), by othersnbsp;to the ninth century (cf. p. 633, note).

639 The �Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel� is referred to as annbsp;authority for the reigns of sixteen out of the eighteen kings of Israel.nbsp;This also would seem to have been a work of some length. At all eventsnbsp;it was more than a list of kings with their regnal years, such as we find innbsp;Anglo-Saxon records. We may quote I Kings xxii. 39: �Now the rest ofnbsp;the acts of Ahab, and all that he did, and the ivory house which he built,nbsp;and all the cities that he built, are they not written in the Book of thenbsp;Chronicles of the Kings of Israel.^� Unfortunately it is not clear whethernbsp;the Book was an original�perhaps official�record continued from timenbsp;to time, or a compilation made from earlier records. It may not be without significance that one of the two reigns omitted is that of Hoshea, thenbsp;last king. At all events it does not seem probable that such a work wasnbsp;composed after�perhaps we should say long after�the year 722, whennbsp;the kingdom was destroyed.

The evidence available for the Hexateuch may be noticed here. It is commonly believed that the early constituent elements known as J and Enbsp;were written in the first half of the eighth century, the former perhapsnbsp;even earlier. Actual proof of this would probably be difficult to adduce.�nbsp;Hosea, who prophesied not long after 750, seems definitely to implynbsp;(viii. 12) the existence of a written Book of the Law in his time. But itnbsp;is not clear that his prophecies themselves were at once committed tonbsp;writing.^ More important perhaps is the fact that E is generally agreednbsp;to have been of northern origin. It came to be accepted in the southernnbsp;kingdom (Judah) and to be combined with J, which is thought to havenbsp;been of southern origin.3 This is believed to have taken place before thenbsp;production of Deuteronomy. Indeed the probability is that it tooknbsp;place some considerable time before; for Deuteronomy presupposes thenbsp;growth of a tendency towards exclusiveness in religion. In particularnbsp;we may note the laws contained in Ex. xxi f., which are attributed to E.nbsp;These are presumably the laws of the northern kingdom; and theirnbsp;acceptance in Judah is more easily explicable at a time when the formernbsp;kingdom was still in existence. In Vol. i, p. 494, it was pointed out thatnbsp;written literature usually begins with the writing of the laws.

� Not much weight can be attached to the occasional references in Kings to a written �Law of Moses�. In I. ii. 3 the context points to an addition by the compiler;nbsp;and the other references may be of similar origin.

* They are supposed to contain a considerable number of�interpolations�, though the passage indicated is not generally included among these.

3 The parallels with E are too close to allow of the supposition that the two were of wholly independent origin, but J may have been written down in the south.

as a whole to substantiate the accepted dates�which were arrived at, we believe, partly from linguistic considerations. The possibility of a muchnbsp;earlier date for the beginning of written literature is indeed not to benbsp;disregarded. The ostraka found at Samaria and dating from Ahab�s timenbsp;(cf. p. 633) were inscribed with pen and ink�which suggests thatnbsp;papyrus was known. At this time the conditions were favourable tonbsp;Phoenician influence; the queen, Jezebel, was a Phoenician. The use ofnbsp;papyrus may well have begun then; but it can hardly have come intonbsp;general use until much later. The stories of Elijah and Elisha, as we havenbsp;seen, appear to be derived from saga. There is no evidence for a writtennbsp;collection of their prophecies, such as we have for the prophets of thenbsp;eighth century�Amos, Hosea, Isaiah and Micah. The prophecies ofnbsp;these latter were written down, either by the authors themselves, ornbsp;at a time when they were still more or less clearly remembered. In thenbsp;case of Elijah and Elisha, however, we have only such prophecies asnbsp;were preserved incidentally in the saga or sagas which narrated theirnbsp;doings. The evidence therefore, taken as a whole, would seem tonbsp;indicate that the general use of written literature was a growth of thenbsp;eighth century,^ though its beginnings may go back even beyond thenbsp;middle of the ninth.

From what has been said above it will be clear, not only that the literary use of writing began earlier than in the other literatures we havenbsp;discussed, but also that the study of saga is here of primary importance.nbsp;This applies of course primarily to the ninth and earlier centuries; butnbsp;there can be little doubt that oral tradition in one form or another retainednbsp;a certain force down to c. 700, or even later. Indeed the account ofnbsp;Sennacherib�s invasion in the year 700, given in II Kings xviii (13 ff.)nbsp;and xix, presents features which are difficult to explain, except bynbsp;derivation from saga.

In the heroic, non-heroic and antiquarian categories saga is by far the most prevalent form of literature. The amount of poetry which has beennbsp;preserved is small, though some of it seems to be very ancient. Nonheroic saga and antiquarian saga are closely connected and were doubtless cultivated in the same circles. The chief centres seem to have been

* It is of importance to notice that Assyrian sculptures of the eighth and seventh centuries sometimes depict a scribe, perhaps Aramaean, at work with roll and pennbsp;beside an Assyrian scribe, who is working with tablet and stylus. From the samenbsp;period apparently dates a sculpture at Zenjirli in North Syria, which reproduces thenbsp;ordinary Egyptian writing-outfit. Cf. Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. n. 424.

641 the communities of the prophets and the Temple at Jerusalem, thoughnbsp;for early times other sanctuaries may have to be taken into account.nbsp;Heroic and non-heroic saga are as a rule very clearly distinguishable;nbsp;they represent different elements in the population, which often werenbsp;sharply opposed to one another. But in certain periods, especially thenbsp;time of Elisha, there seems to have been some influence of the one uponnbsp;the other.

Saga is found in all the various forms noted in Vol. i, p. 332 f. Sometimes a story is preserved only in the briefest possible form, perhaps in two or three sentences. The briefest example of all is what is said aboutnbsp;Shamgar, son of Anath, in Judg. iii. 31; but this can hardly be callednbsp;more than a reference to a saga. Even such specimens sometimes contain speeches, as in the story of Caleb and Achsah, related ib. i. 12 ff.nbsp;Stories which occupy a chapter or a considerable part of a chapter andnbsp;deal only with a single incident are of frequent occurrence; and thesenbsp;nearly always contain speeches. As an instance we may cite I Kingsnbsp;xiv. 1-20. Often they end with the explanation of a place-name ornbsp;saying, as in I Sam. xix. 18 ff., which ends with an explanation of thenbsp;saying, �Is Saul also among the prophets.^�* Saga of a more elaboratenbsp;and artistic form is to be found in a number of the stories related of Elijahnbsp;and Elisha. But the most highly developed example of saga is the longnbsp;and more or less continuous narrative which tells the story of David�snbsp;later years and occupies the greater part of II Samuel. This narrativenbsp;extends over a period of nearly twenty years ; but attention is centred innbsp;a number of scenes, which are treated with a picturesque fullness ofnbsp;detail, very similar to what is to be found in the best Icelandic sagas.

In the remaining categories saga is unimportant. Theological saga� dealing with the adventures and experiences of deities�is practicallynbsp;excluded by the prevailing monotheism. Timeless nameless saga isnbsp;slight and rare. �Post-heroic� saga hardly occurs within our period.�nbsp;Indeed this category as a whole seems to belong in Palestine to timesnbsp;when writing had come into general use for literary purposes; and wenbsp;shall therefore omit it.

� We do not mean by this that the Heroic Age extended down to the end of our period�say the reign of Hezekiah. But very little literature relating to contemporary events has survived from the eighth century, apart from the prophets. Innbsp;point of fact the latter have elements in common with some of the �post-heroic�nbsp;literature of other countries, as will be seen later.

categories�apart from a number of poems and fragments, which are preserved incidentally in prose works. The mantic poetry presents verynbsp;great difficulties, partly owing to its obscure and figurative diction, andnbsp;partly because the texts, especially those of Isaiah and Micah, arenbsp;believed to be largely interpolated. The gnomic and descriptive poetrynbsp;is said to be late in its present form; and many scholars deny its antiquity,nbsp;even in substance.

The characteristics of saga in general will require consideration in the next volume. But in view of the importance of the subject in Hebrewnbsp;literature one or two preliminary remarks here may not he out of place.nbsp;It is apparently the prevailing opinion now among Hebrew scholarsnbsp;that the early narrative texts were largely derived from saga. But at thenbsp;same time there is evidently a good deal of misconception as to what isnbsp;involved by this term it would seem that little attention had been paidnbsp;to the study of those literatures, e.g. Irish, Norse and Polynesian, innbsp;which saga is best represented. Thus we find it assumed even by verynbsp;recent writers that oral prose narratives cannot be preserved for verynbsp;long, say not for more than three or four generations; but the literaturesnbsp;to which we refer supply abundant evidence that this is erroneous. Again,nbsp;it is assumed that saga necessarily involves the presence of folklorenbsp;elements. Such elements are of course of very frequent occurrence; butnbsp;they are not essential. Their presence and frequency depends on thenbsp;character of the milieu in which the saga is preserved.

On the other hand saga is sometimes credited with certain powers which, we think, it cannot justly claim. Thus the period of 430 yearsnbsp;ascribed in Ex. xii. 40 f. (from P) to the sojourn of the children ofnbsp;Israel in Egypt has been attributed to saga, or at least to oral tradition;nbsp;and the same origin has been suggested for the 480 years which innbsp;I Kings vi. I are said to have elapsed between the Exodus and the foundation of the Temple. We know of no analogies elsewhere in oralnbsp;tradition for such figures; and the suggestions seem to us incredible.nbsp;We are inclined even to doubt whether the shorter periods (of forty,nbsp;eighty years, etc.) found in Judges are properly to be ascribed to oral

� This is due in part to the German word � Saga�, which has a much wider (less specific) meaning. The word �legend�, which is used by some writers, is open tonbsp;more than one objection. It does not indicate that the story has a definite form; andnbsp;it seems to us as inappropriate to the story of David�s later years as to most of thenbsp;� Sagas of Icelanders �. A saga, at least in the early stages of its life, need not ofnbsp;necessity contain any unhistorical element, apart from the form (the conversations,nbsp;etc.) in which it is presented.

643 tradition. There is some evidence for the recording of the lengths ofnbsp;kings� reigns. But more usually the only chronological evidencenbsp;supplied by oral tradition, except for the recent past, consists of genealogies. We cannot but think that the Hebrew periods are the product ofnbsp;calculations made in the days of written literature, even if the data onnbsp;which these calculations were based are not now traceable.'

Lastly, a word may be said here as to the relations between saga and narrative poetry. It is held by some scholars that certain stories, innbsp;particular the stories of the Patriarchs, have been converted from poetrynbsp;into prose; Gen. xiv has been cited as a specially clear example. This is anbsp;question which must of course be left to specialists to decide. Analogiesnbsp;are to be found elsewhere both for the conversion of narrative poetrynbsp;into saga and also for that of saga into narrative poetry. But it is quitenbsp;erroneous to state, as has been done, that such conversions are universalnbsp;or normal phenomena of oral literature. They occur, we think, onlynbsp;under certain conditions, which will require discussion in the nextnbsp;volume. The Hebrew literature of the Bible, as we have it, contains nonbsp;narrative poetry, whether of Type A or of Type C. But it would hardlynbsp;be wise to deny that such poetry may once have existed; for the fragments of mythological poetry found at Ras Shamra are usually describednbsp;as �epic� and in fact do contain a good deal of narrative, though speechesnbsp;seem to predominate. On the other hand �celebration� poems, likenbsp;Judg. V, should not be cited as evidence for the cultivation of narrativenbsp;poetry. Poetry of Type D is a more or less regular concomitant of saga,nbsp;and seems to be best preserved where Type A is not cultivated (cf. p. 2).

There are still of course a good number of scholars who do not admit the use of anytliing which can properly be called saga among the sourcesnbsp;of Hebrew literature. Some believe the written texts, or at least thenbsp;earlier elements preserved in them, to be of much greater antiquity thannbsp;is generally allowed. Others, while admitting the existence of � traditions �nbsp;of undefined form, hold that for practical purposes the books relating tonbsp;early times are to be taken as reflecting the conditions and the thought ofnbsp;the times in which they were written, whether this took place in thenbsp;eighth and seventh centuries or in later times; in other words these booksnbsp;cannot safely be regarded otherwise than as works of speculation ornbsp;romance.

' The remarkable reference to Zoan (Tanis) in Numb. xiii. 22 suggests acquaintance with some Egyptian record. We do not know whether there is any other evidence for the use of foreign chronological authorities.

as non-specialists we prefer to take as our basis the more commonly accepted views�which, so far as we can judge, seem to us as a rule wellnbsp;founded. We should not be greatly surprised, however, if some of thenbsp;written texts should prove to have had a longer history than is commonlynbsp;thought. On the other hand we would point out that saga is seldom, ifnbsp;ever, preserved in a rigid form. Normally it consists of an originalnbsp;composition plus the modifications and accretions which this hasnbsp;received in the course of time. The original composition may be derivednbsp;from personal knowledge or from recent news; or it may be of a speculative or imaginative character. Its subsequent treatment depends uponnbsp;the milieu in which it is preserved. It may be treated conservatively, ornbsp;largely modernised; but it seldom or never reflects only the conditionsnbsp;and thought which belong properly to the last stage in its life�whennbsp;it comes to be written down. To assume that a saga reflects only thenbsp;conditions of its last stage is erroneous in principle, and involves thenbsp;neglect of evidence which may be of value for literary or historicalnbsp;purposes. Every saga should be examined with the object of ascertaining what conditions it does reflect.

As regards the permanence or longevity of oral tradition other than what is preserved in saga or poetry we are inclined to be sceptical. Localnbsp;traditions, which cannot properly be described as saga, sometimes havenbsp;a long life; but we think they are always connected, directly or indirectly,nbsp;with saga. These, however, are questions which will require morenbsp;attention later.

The Heroic Age of the Hebrews is somewhat difficult to delimit, owing to the fact that only one story, or rather part of a story, hasnbsp;been preserved in pure heroic form. With the exception of thenbsp;story of David we have only traces of heroic stories, or at best storiesnbsp;which were perhaps heroic originally but have assumed non-heroicnbsp;characteristics. It is to be borne in mind that the whole of early Hebrewnbsp;literature which has survived owes its preservation to non-heroicnbsp;(religious) circles; and such circles naturally were not interested innbsp;heroic stories as such. That they preserved one such story�heroic andnbsp;secular�was doubtless due to the fact that the hero was the founder ofnbsp;the national sanctuary.

It will be seen later that the Books of Kings, though they preserve no heroic stories in their true form, give some evidence which points to thenbsp;cultivation of heroic saga. We think that the presence of heroic characteristics can be traced down to the latter part of the ninth century; butnbsp;at the end of the century the evidence is slight and uncertain. Perhapsnbsp;we may date the close of the Heroic Age about this time. Further back,nbsp;we think that heroic saga can be traced in the Book of Judges. But thenbsp;Books of Samuel are our chief source.

The story of David occupies the second half of I Samuel and the whole of II Samuel. It is clearly not all derived from one source; fornbsp;there are discrepancies and even variant forms of saga, as we have seennbsp;(p. 635). As to the relationship of the various parts there are somenbsp;differences of opinion; but it is generally agreed that II Sam. ix-xx formnbsp;a single continuous narrative, together with I Kings i, ii. We will therefore begin with this narrative, which we may call the story of David�snbsp;later years. But we are by no means clear that it is independent ofnbsp;everything that has gone before.

The narrative with which we are concerned begins (II Sam. ix) with David�s reception of Mephibosheth. Next (x-xii) comes the war withnbsp;Ammon, together with the death of Uriah, David�s marriage withnbsp;Bath-sheba, and the death of their child. This is followed (xiii) by the

Story of Amnon and Tamar. Then (xiv-xix) comes the story of Absalom and his rebellion, followed (xx) by the revolt of Sheba. In I Kings i, iinbsp;we have the account of the proclamation of Solomon and the deaths ofnbsp;David, Adonijah and Joab.

It has been mentioned above that some scholars believe this narrative to be a more or less contemporary memoir; and taken by itself it contains little or nothing incompatible with such an interpretation. But wenbsp;shall then have to suppose that, according to the dates commonlynbsp;approved, it was separated by a long interval from the rest of the literature; and we must regard it as extremely doubtful whether writtennbsp;literature existed at the time. Again, we cannot believe that the narrativenbsp;is without connections in the preceding and intervening chapters. Innbsp;point of fact some scholars hold that much of the preceding matter, innbsp;both Books, belongs to the same narrative ; but the amount of � dovetailing� involved by this view�on the assumption that a very ancientnbsp;written text is concerned�seems to us incredible.

Other scholars give a totally different interpretation to the story, regarding it as a romance composed in later times. This of course disposes of the chronological difficulty; but in other respects it seems to usnbsp;to have little in its favour. We presume that what is meant is a work ofnbsp;imaginative fiction, the subject of which is some well-known characternbsp;or characters, historical or otherwise. It seems to be an essentialnbsp;feature of such stories that interest is centred almost exclusively in onenbsp;or two characters, usually young, on whose behalf the sympathy of thenbsp;reader or the audience is enlisted. Circumstantial detail and verisimilitude are wanting; the action takes place in a world of unreality.nbsp;In the periods with which we are concerned romances are usuallynbsp;either developments of heroic stories or invented as additions to them;nbsp;but they are distinguished from the heroic stories themselves by thenbsp;features noted, which are doubtless due to distance, in time or place,nbsp;from the original action. Intermediate stages are of course frequentnbsp;enough. But the story of David�s later years seems to have nothing innbsp;common with this genre.�'

* The picture of David�s court is not only detailed and intimate, but it also shows conditions different from those of later times. We may Instance the absence of thenbsp;chariot�to which we shall have to refer again later (p. 668 f.). We may contrastnbsp;Samuel�s speech in I Sam. viii. 11 ff.�a passage generally agreed to be late�wherenbsp;this anachronism actuallyoccurs. The hardships described here as arising from kinglynbsp;rule are those of a later time. Absalom seems to be the first prince recorded to havenbsp;had a chariot and runners (II Sam. xv. i); but this was to gain popularity. Apart

The resemblance of the story to the �Sagas of Icelanders� is so close that it is hardly necessary to do more than give a reference to the latter.nbsp;It may be observed that these also contain large imaginative elements,nbsp;which it is impossible to control, except where external evidence is tonbsp;be found. The essential feature, however, is that they have been preserved by a succession of skilled narrators from the time of the eventsnbsp;which they relate. The first stage in the tradition may be illustrated bynbsp;an incident in Njals Saga, noticed in Vol. i, p. 580. At a Christmas partynbsp;given by Earl Sigur�r II of Orkney in 1013 the story of Njall�s death isnbsp;related to the earl and the king of Dublin by one of those who had takennbsp;part in the fighting. For the next stage we may refer to the story (ib.nbsp;p. 581) of the Icelander who recited to Harold Hardrada the account ofnbsp;that king�s own exploits in foreign lands. He had got his story from anbsp;man who had been in the king�s service. The sagas, as we have them, hadnbsp;a life of a century and a half or more in oral tradition before they werenbsp;written down; and it is reasonable to expect that in the course of thatnbsp;time they underwent a considerable amount of change. But it is to benbsp;borne in mind that the audiences were familiar with them, so thatnbsp;drastic changes, especially in the relations of the personnel, would benbsp;difficult to carry out. Except for a partiality for ghost stories theynbsp;preserve their verisimilitude; and the wealth of circumstantial detail isnbsp;remarkable.

The �Sagas of Icelanders � are not heroic stories. For heroic sagas we must turn to Ireland; and here the material is less suitable for comparison. The best and fullest Irish sagas relate to remote times�at least sixnbsp;or seven centuries before they were committed to writing. The stories ofnbsp;later times have for the most part been preserved only in rather briefnbsp;form. Indeed they seem to have been much less in favour than thenbsp;earlier ones.

We may note, however, that the story of David has also much in common with heroic narrative poetry. Most of the characteristic featuresnbsp;of such poetry, as noted in Vol. i (p. 20 ff. and elsewhere), so far as theynbsp;are applicable to saga, are to be found in this story. It is a narrative storynbsp;of adventure, intended for entertainment, in the same sense as this maynbsp;be said of heroic narrative poems. It is anonymous and full of speechesnbsp;and descriptive details. More important than all this, however, is thenbsp;milieu. It differs from all the other remains of early Hebrew literature innbsp;from these considerations the references in the story to Joab seem to us quitenbsp;irreconcilable with any theory of romance. This point will be noticed in the lastnbsp;chapter.

the fact that the view-point is, consistently, the court itself. It gives an intimate picture of the life and doings of the king and other membersnbsp;of the royal family; and the action usually takes place in their houses ornbsp;in their presence. Elsewhere, as in the stories contained in the Books ofnbsp;Kings, this is only occasionally the case; the action usually follows thenbsp;movements of prophets. The story may be described as court saga, justnbsp;as heroic poetry in most countries may be described as court poetry.nbsp;This is an essential difference between the story of David, which we callnbsp;heroic, and the stories of Elijah and Elisha, which we call non-heroic.

On the other hand the story differs from heroic narrative poems, and from most heroic sagas, in its lack of unity. A heroic story, whether innbsp;verse or prose, is usually concerned either with a single adventure ornbsp;with a series of adventures which are causally connected, though sometimes, as in the Iliad, the connection is very slight. The � story � of Davidnbsp;consists properly of a series or rather succession of stories, some ofnbsp;which are hardly connected with one another except by the personalitynbsp;of the chief character. In this respect it resembles the more strictlynbsp;biographical Sagas of Icelanders�we may instance Egils Saga Skalla-grimssonar. Yet it may be questioned whether the difference betweennbsp;our story and very long heroic poems, such as the main story of thenbsp;Mahabharata and even the Iliad, is really essential. The latter may wellnbsp;have incorporated a number of stories which were originally treatednbsp;separately. We may compare the long bugarstica on the battle of Kosovonbsp;(Bogisic, No. i), discussed on p. 419 ff.

Another feature in which our story deviates from the heroic norm is the absence of a hero�at least in the part of the story with which wenbsp;are now concerned. David is the central figure; but he is an elderly man.nbsp;Stirring incidents abound; but he plays no active part in them. Thenbsp;absence of heroic deeds, whether by him or the other characters, isnbsp;specially to be noted. �Man-slayings� are by no means rare; but theynbsp;are murders.

The heroic story without heroic deeds, though unusual, is by no means unknown. No heroic deeds are attributed to Nala or to Satyavat.nbsp;Sigur�r is said to be a great hero; but in those Norse poems which cannbsp;properly be called heroic (Types A and B), his function is to be murdered. The same is true of Noisiu and his brothers in the �Exile of thenbsp;Sons of Uisliu�. But all these cases differ from the story of David in thenbsp;fact that the interest is centred in a woman�Damayant�, S�vitr�,nbsp;Gu�run or Brynhildr, Derdriu�whereas no woman plays a leadingnbsp;role in our story.

Notwithstanding this difference we think that the feature we have noted gives a clue to the original provenance of the story. We have seennbsp;reasons for suspecting that the stories of Nala and of S�vitri and most ofnbsp;the poems relating to Gu�r�n and Brynhildr are of feminine provenance ;nbsp;and the same may be true of the �Exile�, though in this case we are notnbsp;prepared to speculate. Further examples may be found with somenbsp;probability among the bugarstice. noticed on p. 315 ff. (cf. also p. 448).nbsp;By �feminine provenance� we mean that the poems or stories in questionnbsp;have been composed either by women or for the entertainment ofnbsp;women. We suspect that much, though not necessarily all, of the storynbsp;of David is of similar origin.

It is true that, in contrast with the cases noted above, no woman plays a leading part in the story; but taking the story as a whole, women,nbsp;especially the ladies of the court, receive a great amount of attention.nbsp;In II Sam. xi we have the account of David�s passion for Bath-sheba,nbsp;which involves what is practically the murder of her husband. It isnbsp;surprising that this incident, discreditable as it is, should be treated sonbsp;fully. Much more surprising, however, is the amount of attention givennbsp;to the illness and death of the child, in the following chapter. Whatnbsp;kind of audience was this intended for ? Then in cap. xiii comes the story,nbsp;likewise discreditable, of Amnon and Tamar. In xiv. 27 it is noted thatnbsp;Absalom had a beautiful daughter, also called Tamar; but his sons�nbsp;names are not mentioned. More strange is the attention given to thenbsp;concubines whom David leaves behind in his palace (xv. 16; xvi. 21 f.;nbsp;XX. 3). We may also notice the prominence of the �wise women� innbsp;cap. xiv and xx. 16 ff. Then in I Kings i f., Bath-sheba again comes to rhenbsp;fore; and a curious amount of attention is given to a young girl callednbsp;Abishag.

This interest in the doings of women is by no means limited to the part of the story with which we are specially concerned. It begins innbsp;I Sam. xviii. 17 ff. with the account of Saul�s daughters, Merab andnbsp;Michal, and the marriage of the latter with David. In the followingnbsp;chapter (xix. 11 ff.) Michal enables David to escape from her father�snbsp;emissaries. Cap. xxv is almost entirely occupied with an account ofnbsp;Abigail, who after her husband�s death marries David. At the end of thenbsp;chapter it is stated that David also married a certain Ahinoam of Jez-reel ; but Michal in the meantime had been given by her father to a mannbsp;called Paid (Paltiel). In II Sam. iii. 2 ff. we find a list of the sons born tonbsp;David in Hebron, with the names of their mothers, six in number. Nextnbsp;(ib. 7) we hear of Saul�s concubine, Rizpah, and her relations with Abner.

When Abner seeks to come to terms with David, the latter stipulates (ib. 13 ff.) that Michal is to be restored to him. It is remarked that hernbsp;husband Paltiel follows her weeping, until he is sent away by Abner. Innbsp;V. 13 ff. it is stated that David took more wives and concubines after henbsp;had settled in Jerusalem; and another list of children is given. In cap. vi,nbsp;where the bringing of the sacred Ark to Jerusalem is described, Michalnbsp;reproves David for his undignified behaviour during the ceremony�atnbsp;which David is evidently much annoyed. Lastly, we may notice thenbsp;gruesome story told in xxi. 3 ff.�how David delivered up sevennbsp;members of Saul�s family to the Gibeonites, to be hanged. Two of thesenbsp;are sons of Rizpah, Saul�s concubine, while the others are sons of hisnbsp;daughter Merab.^ The story relates (ib. 10) how Rizpah watched andnbsp;guarded the bodies for a long time.

The details recorded in a number of these passages are worth noting. We may refer (e.g.) to the passage (iii. 16) where Michal, when she isnbsp;restored to David, is followed by her interim husband. The descriptionnbsp;of the conversation between David and Michal in vi. 20 ff. is of an intimate character. Still more striking is the description of David�s grief atnbsp;the illness of Bath-sheba�s child in xii. 15 ff. Other intimate details ofnbsp;this kind, relating to the royal family, are recorded in the concludingnbsp;part of the story (I Kings i f.).

We find it difficult to doubt that these narratives were intended in the first place for the entertainment of feminine audiences. This may not benbsp;true for the story as a whole. There are elements, e.g. II Sam. x, whichnbsp;suggest a different origin. But we think that the whole, or nearly thenbsp;whole, of it can be satisfactorily interpreted as court saga, composednbsp;from stories current in the court, the majority of which were probablynbsp;of feminine provenance.

This brings us to the question of the relationship between the different parts of the story. It is held by many scholars that considerable portions of the story from I Sam. xvi. 14 to II Sam. vi are derived fromnbsp;the same source as II Sam. ix-xx; indeed this element is believed to beginnbsp;in I Sam. ix. The question of literary derivation is of course one whichnbsp;must be left to specialists, who can estimate the evidence of languagenbsp;and literary style. But we may perhaps say that we see nothing in thenbsp;subject-matter of the portions indicated, which seems to us incompatiblenbsp;with derivation from the same saga-source as the later part of the story,nbsp;whatever may be thought as to the literary channel. In particular, as we

have seen, the same lively interest in the doings of women is prominent in both.

Indeed we are inclined to suspect that more is derived ultimately from the saga than scholars will allow to have belonged to the hypotheticalnbsp;ancient text. We note specially that practically all catalogue matter isnbsp;excluded from this element. Thus it is suggested that the lists of David�snbsp;sons and wives in II Sam. iii. 2 ff., v. 14 ff., and of his officials in (M.)nbsp;viii. 16 ff., XX. 23 ff., and also the long catalogue of his heroes in (j.b.')nbsp;xxiii may be derived from registers. But lists of this kind are of frequentnbsp;occurrence in the �Sagas of Icelanders�, and parallels are to be found innbsp;Irish heroic sagas and even in heroic narrative poetry. Such lists ofnbsp;course do not necessarily belong to the very oldest elements in a saga;nbsp;but they may well be quite early accretions in this case. And we see nonbsp;reason for doubting that they may have been added to the saga longnbsp;before it was committed to writing.

The long catalogue of heroes in II Sam. xxiii. 8 ff. belongs to a series of chapters (xxi-xxiv) which is believed to be an insertion, and whichnbsp;interrupts the narrative contained in the preceding chapters and innbsp;I Kings i f. The contents of these chapters are of very varied character;nbsp;but there seems to be no sufficient reason for denying that part of themnbsp;�at least the catalogue of heroes� and the whole of cap. xxi^�may benbsp;derived from heroic (court) saga. It is unnecessary to suppose that thenbsp;whole of this body of saga was collected and worked into a consecutivenbsp;narrative at one time. On the contrary we have to think of the storynbsp;which has been preserved as only a fraction of the amount of court saganbsp;which was once current. In this body of saga there were doubtlessnbsp;variant accounts of the same events, as well as actual discrepancies. Itnbsp;is in this way, we suspect, that the occurrence of variants such asnbsp;I Sam. xxiv and xxvi is to be explained. The two accounts had come tonbsp;differ so much that their identity was not recognised by those whonbsp;collected or wrote down the stories. A similar case is perhaps to benbsp;traced in II Sam. viii. 3 ff. and x. 16 ff. As an instance of discrepancynbsp;we may cite the statements as to Absalom�s sons in (ib.') xiv. 27, xviii. 18.

� We may compare the list of Eormenric�s �household force� (innweorud), enumerated in Widsith, 112 ff.

� Cap. xxiv is generally connected with xxi. 1-14; but it is distinguished from it by the prominence of the religious element and the introduction of the supernatural. Yet we are not inclined to deny the possibility that it may be derived fromnbsp;heroic saga. The scene is not very different from that of Book i of the Iliad.

derived from heroic saga. The religious poems in II Sam. xxii and xxiii. 1-7 are clearly of a different character; and the same is true ofnbsp;(j.b.') cap. vii, which is likewise wholly concerned with religion. It isnbsp;generally agreed, we believe, that both these passages are insertionsnbsp;made in later times. Both of them stand in positions where the narrativenbsp;is interrupted by the inclusion of summaries and lists.^ David was thenbsp;founder of the national sanctuary at Jerusalem, and in later times at allnbsp;events was regarded as the great champion and representative of thenbsp;national religion. He was also credited with the authorship of a largenbsp;number of hymns. Such insertions therefore are natural enough; for itnbsp;is to be remembered that we owe to religious circles whatever has beennbsp;preserved of early Hebrew literature. What is more surprising is that innbsp;general the secular character of the story has been so little affected. Thisnbsp;fact would seem to indicate that it was written down�presumably innbsp;court circles�before it came into religious hands.

There are, however, some passages in I Samuel which may have had a different history. It is generally agreed that cap. xvi f. contains twonbsp;accounts of David�s introduction to Saul which are incompatible withnbsp;one another. In xvi. 18 ff. he is brought to Saul as a minstrel or musician,nbsp;and remains in his service in high favour. But in xvii, which describesnbsp;the fight with Goliath, he is unknown to either Saul or Abner. In thenbsp;former passage he is described as a warrior; in the latter he is a youthnbsp;tending his father�s sheep, and apparently not regarded as of militarynbsp;age. The former is generally agreed to belong to the earliest stratum ofnbsp;the story. As regards the latter there is some difference of opinion;nbsp;some scholars believe the whole episode to be later, while others hold thatnbsp;parts of it belong to the oldest stratum, but that the Hebrew text� hasnbsp;been largely interpolated. The interpolation postulated is of a mostnbsp;elaborate character and seems to us hardly credible. Moreover it is tonbsp;be borne in mind that the slaying of Goliath is elsewhere (II Sam. xxi. 19)nbsp;attributed to a different hero, Elhanan.

� Cap. vii is immediately followed by a summary of David�s wars, and this again by a short list of officials (viii. 16 ff.), as noted above. Both of these, we think, maynbsp;have been derived from saga. In xxi-xxiv it would seem that insertions have beennbsp;made repeatedly. The first insertion was apparently xxi. 1-14 and xxiv, the nextnbsp;xxi. 15-22 and xxiii. 8-39 (within the former insertion); then the religious poemsnbsp;(xxii and xxiii. 1-7) were inserted within the latter. All this matter, except the poems,nbsp;may have been derived from current saga.

� The Greek transi, omits most of the passages which conflict with the preceding chapter. Hence some scholars hold that this transi, represents the original text.nbsp;The view of those who think that the translator noticed and deliberately omitted thenbsp;conflicting passages seems to us more probable.

Now cap. xvii has a strongly religious tone, which is entirely wanting in the other passage (xvi. 14 ff.). It appears also, however, in xvi. i ff.�nbsp;the story of the anointing of David by Samuel. In this passage too�nbsp;which is not thought to belong to the oldest stratum�David again isnbsp;represented as a shepherd lad. Between the two narratives there isnbsp;evidently no very close connection; but both bear a general resemblancenbsp;to the kind of stories which everywhere tend to grow up round thenbsp;childhood and youth of famous heroes. There is no suggestion of anbsp;court milieu in either case; indeed the story of the fight with Goliath isnbsp;more like a folktale. Yet the prominence of the prophet in xvi (1-13)nbsp;and the pronouncedly religious tone of xvii seem to point to a �nonheroic� rather than a popular origin. And this is in full accord with thenbsp;context of the former passage, which is clearly represented as the sequelnbsp;to the �rejection� of Saul, described in cap. xv.

The story of Saul is closely connected with that of David. As we have them, the two form a continuous narrative. From I Sam. xvi onwards David is the leading character, though some of the later chaptersnbsp;(xxviii and xxxi) are exclusively concerned with Saul. Here we willnbsp;confine our attention to the earlier part of the story of Saul (I Sam.nbsp;ix-xv).

It is generally agreed that these chapters contain two strands of narrative, which were originally quite independent. The earlier of thenbsp;two is believed to be represented by cap. ix, x. 1-16, xi, xiii. 2-7, 15-23,nbsp;xiv; it ends with�or is followed by�a short summary of Saul�s campaigns and a list of his relatives (xiv. 47 ff.). The intervening sections,�nbsp;together with cap. viii and xv, represent the later narrative. It will benbsp;seen that this analysis is in reality a division between heroic and nonheroic saga. The older narrative is not so intimate as the story of David,nbsp;and the feminine element is wanting; but the interest is essentiallynbsp;personal and secular. The later narrative is typically non-heroic andnbsp;religious; the central figure is not Saul, but Samuel. How the twonbsp;narratives came to be combined in this way is not quite clear to us ; butnbsp;we believe the common view to be that the later narrative incorporatednbsp;the earlier, when the latter was already in written form. At all eventsnbsp;it would seem that the problem is the same as in cap. xvi f., wherenbsp;likewise we find two strands of narrative, one heroic and the othernbsp;non-heroic, relating to David. The stories of Saul and of David have

� We have ignored one or two very short passages. We are inclined to think that in these analyses generally sufficient allowance has not been made for �editorial�nbsp;work.

therefore had the same literary history. Moreover from the fact that two narratives of Saul, without reference to David, are to be found in thenbsp;later chapters, xxviii and xxxi�the former of which is out of placenbsp;chronologically�we may infer with probability that the stories of Saulnbsp;were collected in relation to those of David.

The history of the text may be that a number of heroic stories relating to Saul and David were at an early date collected and written down innbsp;the form of a continuous history, and that this history came later intonbsp;the hands of a redactor who added other stories, of non-heroic character,nbsp;in the earlier part of the work. But, however this may be, the importantnbsp;fact for our purpose is that heroic stories have been preserved relatingnbsp;to both these kings.

The first few chapters of I Samuel are concerned with the story of the prophet himself and show no heroic features. And elsewhere in earlynbsp;Hebrew literature the evidence for heroic saga is meagre and somewhatnbsp;doubtful. Some possible instances, however, occur in the Book ofnbsp;Judges. The passage relating to Caleb and his daughter, in i. 12 if.,nbsp;which occurs also in Josh. xv. 16 ff., might be a fragment of such saga;nbsp;but it can probably be explained otherwise. Again, the story of Ehud,nbsp;told in iii. 15 if., might be a heroic saga in outline; but the account is sonbsp;brief that one cannot speak with confidence. The story of Gideon andnbsp;his son Abimelech, which is told at much greater length (cap. vi-ix),nbsp;cannot be regarded as heroic saga in its present form. It shows, however, some obscure features, and apparently lacunae, which may indicatenbsp;a change in its character ; derivation from heroic saga is hardly impossible.nbsp;The story of Jephthah in cap. xi f. may, perhaps with more probability,nbsp;be derived from such a source, if allowance be made for preservation innbsp;non-heroic circles and a considerable amount of�editing�. The story ofnbsp;Samson (cap. xiii-xvi), in addition to the religious element, which isnbsp;found in all these stories, shows also �popular� features, akin to those ofnbsp;folktales. If it is ultimately derived from heroic saga, it must havenbsp;changed its character. The other stories present no distinctively heroicnbsp;features, so far as we can see.

In the Books of Kings also�after the conclusion of the story of David in I. i f.�no saga which can properly be called heroic seems to benbsp;preserved. The account of Solomon�s reign (I. iii-xi) presents a strikingnbsp;contrast to the story of David. Apart from two short narratives,nbsp;illustrating Solomon�s wisdom and wealth, and some catalogue matter,nbsp;it is almost wholly occupied with a description of his buildings and with

655 prayers and speeches made by him on various solemn occasions. Twonbsp;different strata are generally recognised, much of the religious matter,nbsp;together with the denunciation of Solomon�s foreign marriages, beingnbsp;assigned to the �Deuteronomist� redactor or compiler of the Books ofnbsp;Kings. The interests of the earlier and main element, which is of uncertain age, would seem to be antiquarian. There is no heroic element.

The same remark holds good for the rest of these Books. It would be hasty, however, to conclude from this that the Heroic Age was now atnbsp;an end. In Ch. iv we shall see that there is a good deal of evidence fornbsp;the prevalence of heroic conditions throughout the tenth and ninthnbsp;centuries. The explanation may well be that, as in the case of the Book ofnbsp;Judges, the compiler was not interested in heroic saga. And in point ofnbsp;fact there is some positive, though slight and indirect, evidence for thenbsp;existence of such saga. Some of the narratives relating to Elisha show innbsp;their details rather close resemblances to heroic saga. As an instance wenbsp;may cite (II. ix) the account of the proclamation of Jehu and the proceedings which follow. This narrative and several others show a fondness for heroic (military) details ; even the heroic attitude to the prophetnbsp;is noted in ix. ii, without any real feeling of hostility. More importantnbsp;is the fact that the divine power sometimes (II. ii. ii f., vi. 17) appearsnbsp;with military attributes. Such influence of the heroic upon the nonheroic may be explained by the rapprochement which took placenbsp;between the two elements under Jehu, and indeed perhaps to somenbsp;extent under his predecessor. It is now generally recognised that thenbsp;moral judgments of the compiler do not represent the views of the earlynbsp;prophets. This is a subject which will require notice in the next chapter.nbsp;But we may note here that Elisha�s influence with the court seems tonbsp;have been very great. The hostility towards the prophets of Jehovahnbsp;which had existed under Ahab had completely passed away; and there isnbsp;no need to suppose that the prophets, any more than the court, remainednbsp;unaffected by the changed conditions.

Very little heroic poetry has been preserved�one poem, which is apparently complete, and a few fragments. All these seem to belong tonbsp;Type D, i.e. either to elegies or panegyrics.

The only complete poem is David�s elegy upon the death of Saul and Jonathan, preserved in II Sam. i. 19 ff. It is said in the text to be writtennbsp;in the �Book of Jashar�, which is generally thought to have been anbsp;collection of early Hebrew poetry. It is a typical heroic elegy, withoutnbsp;any religious element. The possibility that it is really an example of

Type B (BD), i.e. a speech in character, put into David�s mouth, cannot of course be excluded ; but there seems to be nothing in the poem itselfnbsp;incompatible with the view that it is what it professes to be�a poemnbsp;composed by David himself for the occasion, and preserved by oralnbsp;tradition.

A short fragment of an elegy, likewise attributed to David, on the death of Abner, Saul�s general, is preserved in II Sam. iii. 33 f. The littlenbsp;that is left suggests a poem of the same character as the preceding. Innbsp;this case the elegy is said to be pronounced at the hero�s funeral.

A fragment of a heroic panegyric��Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands��is quoted in I Sam. xviii. 7 and xxi. ii.nbsp;It is sung by women, with instrumental accompaniment, when Saul andnbsp;David return from battle with the Philistines, and is said to have givennbsp;great offence to Saul.

Lastly, we may refer here to a fragment of poetry, which seems to be heroic, preserved in the Book of Numbers xxi. 27 ff. The contextnbsp;apparently means that it is derived from a poem preserved by oralnbsp;tradition, and implies that this was a poem celebrating a victory of Sihon,nbsp;king of the Amorites, over Moab. And the fragment itself seems tonbsp;have this meaning; but the last verse is obscure.

The non-heroic religious element is predominant in early Hebrew literature, and the amount of non-heroic saga which has beennbsp;preserved is very considerable. Much of it, however, is primarilynbsp;of national and antiquarian interest. Thus in what we may call the � storynbsp;of Moses �, as contained in the Books of Exodus and Numbers, with thenbsp;last chapters of Deuteronomy, the personal element is comparativelynbsp;slight and in general quite subordinate to the early history of the nationnbsp;and the origin of national and religious institutions. The Book ofnbsp;Joshua, again, is almost exclusively of national (antiquarian) interest;nbsp;hardly anything of a personal nature is recorded of Joshua himself. Thenbsp;Book of Judges on the other hand consists in the main of a number ofnbsp;stories which are largely, though not exclusively, of personal interest.nbsp;In the Book as a whole national interest is very prominent; but this isnbsp;believed to be due in part to the compiler. We shall therefore includenbsp;stories from Judges in this chapter, but reserve the stories of Moses andnbsp;Joshua for notice in Ch. vi.

The combination of national with personal interest is one of the chief features which distinguish Hebrew non-heroic stories from those ofnbsp;India. In both cases the non-heroic element is essentially religious. Andnbsp;antiquarian interests of certain kinds are by no means wanting in India,nbsp;though they are less prominent than here. But the feeling for nationalitynbsp;seldom finds expression in early Indian literature, except in the hymns ofnbsp;the Rgveda�where of course it is very prominent, as distinguishing thenbsp;invaders (Aryans) from the native population of the country. Innbsp;Palestine the same feeling appears in the earliest records; but it is nevernbsp;lost sight of, and in non-heroic stories it usually plays a very importantnbsp;part. The Israelites, like the Vedic Aryans, believed that their ancestorsnbsp;had come to the land as invaders; and they regarded the peoples who hadnbsp;previously inhabited the country as foreigners, although apparentlynbsp;they spoke the same language as themselves. Moreover this strong sensenbsp;of nationality was closely bound up with the cult of the national godnbsp;Jehovah. They believed that Jehovah had brought them to Palestine,nbsp;and had ordered them to exterminate the native inhabitants. Most ofnbsp;the evils which befell them in the course of their early history are

658 attributed to the influence of these natives; for they had carried out thenbsp;order only to a limited extent. Yet instances of wholesale massacre,nbsp;accompanied by the destruction even of the enemy�s property and livestock, are to be found not only in the Hexateuch, but also in later times,nbsp;e.g. under the prophet Samuel (I Sam. xv).^

In conformity with this intense feeling for nationality and the national religion non-heroic (prophetic) saga frequently shows a warlike spirit,nbsp;which is quite foreign to the non-heroic stories of (post-Vedic) India.nbsp;The normal attitude of the prophets towards certain nationalities,nbsp;especially the Canaanites and �Amorites�, and to all Israelites who camenbsp;under their influence, is one of uncompromising hostility. They arenbsp;often found rousing princes and people to battle also against foreignnbsp;invaders. Indeed their influence would seem to be usually on the side ofnbsp;war, though they sometimes intervene to prevent warfare betweennbsp;different sections of Israel. It is only after the end of the period withnbsp;which we are concerned that we find their influence exercised on thenbsp;side of peace with foreign nations.

First we will take a story (Judg. iv f.) which we know both from a short saga and from a poem of Type D�a song of triumph�whichnbsp;follows it. The latter is believed to be the earliest piece of Hebrewnbsp;poetry which has been preserved. The saga and the poem give somewhatnbsp;dilferent accounts of the story, which is that of a rising of the Israelitesnbsp;against Jabin, king of Canaan (or Hazor) and his general Sisera. Jabinnbsp;is mentioned only in the saga,^ and this describes only two tribes,nbsp;Naphtali and Zebulon, as taking part in the rising, whereas the poemnbsp;adds several others. Both versions, however, show strongly markednbsp;non-heroic features. Barak may perhaps be a prince of Naphtali�hisnbsp;position is not stated�but in the saga he will not consent to lead thenbsp;rising, except under the guidance of the prophetess Deborah. There isnbsp;no mention of heroic deeds by him or any other individual warrior in thenbsp;army. Their action is inspired by religion. The final blow. Sisera�snbsp;death, is due to a woman, the wife of an alien (non-Israelite). In thenbsp;poem the motifs of religion and patriotism are dominant throughout;

� We have not noted any evidence for such complete destruction in the Rgveda; but parallels are to be found in the earliest records relating to the Teutonic andnbsp;Celtic peoples. These are said to be due to religious vows, e.g. Tacitus, Ann. xiii. 57;nbsp;Caesar, Gall. vi. 17; cf. also Orosius, v. 16.

� The saga seems to have confused the stories of two different wars. A war against Jabin, king of Hazor, ending with his death, is recorded in Josh, xi; there isnbsp;no mention of Sisera. On the other hand the conclusion of the poem (Judg. v. 28 ff.)nbsp;suggests that Sisera is regarded as an independent prince.

and fierce curses are invoked upon a district, which sent no contingent to the army. The speaker is the prophetess herself, at least in part, andnbsp;perhaps throughout the poem.

The story of Gideon {th. vi ff.) must be regarded as non-heroic in its present form, whatever may have been its original character. As wenbsp;have it, patriotism and religion are the guiding motifs. Gideon is farnbsp;more of a hero than Barak, and the interest is largely centred in hisnbsp;personality. But his religious inspiration is repeatedly emphasised; andnbsp;he is not only a warrior, but also (vi. 25 ff.) a champion of one religionnbsp;against another. In the story of his son Abimelech ^b. ix) also the nonheroic element predominates; but the story is told from an unsympathetic point of view.

The story of Micah and the men of Dan (z3. xvii f.) is another example of the unsympathetic kind. This story also would seem to have changed its character. We suspect that in its original form the interestnbsp;was primarily antiquarian�relating to the foundation of the importantnbsp;sanctuary at Dan. But the form in which we have the story is presumably due to its preservation in circles, at Jerusalem or elsewhere,nbsp;which regarded this sanctuary with disapprobation.

The last story in the Book of Judges (xix ff.) relates to the misdoings of the men of Gibeah and the war which arose therefrom. This is anbsp;story of somewhat different character. The interest is again tribal rathernbsp;than individual; the only individuals who figure at all prominently arenbsp;not named. But its antiquarian origin is by no means obvious. It maynbsp;rather be founded upon the memory of some desperate intertribalnbsp;conflict, which had become obscured in the course of time. Non-heroicnbsp;connections may be traced in the insistence upon the punishment ofnbsp;immorality and in the organisation of the punitive action at the sanctuary of Mizpah.

The greater part of the Book of Judges is arranged according to a chronological scheme, which gives a succession of�judges� or rulers ofnbsp;Israel. On various occasions the nation is said to have been subjectednbsp;to foreign oppression on account of its sins. Then follows repentancenbsp;and deliverance from the oppressors. The majority of the stories arenbsp;concerned with these deliverances and the restoration of independence.nbsp;The last two stories, however, fall outside this scheme, and would seemnbsp;to refer to the early part of the period. Yet all the stories, whatever theirnbsp;origin�which may well have been very varied�contain certain non-heroic elements, probably due in part to the milieu in which they havenbsp;been preserved.

The first half of I Samuel consists in the main of non-heroic saga. In cap. i-iii we have an account of the birth and childhood of the prophetnbsp;Samuel, his dedication at the sanctuary of Shiloh and his first revelation,nbsp;together with a description of the priest Eli and his family. In cap. iv-vii the sacred Ark is carried to battle; but the men of Israel are defeatednbsp;by the Philistines, the Ark is captured, and the sons of Eli, who are innbsp;charge of it, are slain. Eli himself who is described as �judge�, dies onnbsp;hearing the news. The Philistines, however, are smitten with plagues,nbsp;and return the Ark to Israel; and it is brought to Kiriath-jearim.nbsp;Samuel becomes judge of Israel, and a victory is gained over thenbsp;Philistines. In cap. viii Samuel is an old man, and makes his sons judges ;nbsp;but the people demand a king. The request is regarded as sinful; but anbsp;king is promised.

There is much difference of opinion as to the literary history of these chapters. It is generally agreed that they are of composite origin ; and thenbsp;basis is commonly held to be a Life of Samuel, which has incorporatednbsp;earlier material, relating to Eli and his family and the Ark. But there isnbsp;some disagreement as to details, and also as to the date of the mainnbsp;narrative. Some scholars are inclined to connect this with the hypothetical text E of the Hexateuch, while others attribute it to a later date.nbsp;Whatever may be the truth in regard to these points, non-heroic andnbsp;religious interest is dominant throughout the whole narrative; and wenbsp;cannot doubt that it is derived to a large extent from saga. Indeed wenbsp;are inclined to ask whether the heterogeneous character of the narrativenbsp;may not be in part inherited from the saga itself. Accretion is an extremely frequent phenomenon in saga everywhere. Biographical saganbsp;in particular consists as a rule of a collection of stories; and among thesenbsp;there are often enough some in which the subject of the saga does notnbsp;figure personally. As regards specific cases, however, as here, thenbsp;question can of course be decided only by experts.

An example of non-heroic poetry is preserved in the hymn said to be sung by Hannah, mother of Samuel, when her son was dedicatednbsp;at the sanctuary (I Sam. ii. i ff.). It is clearly unsuited to the context innbsp;which it occurs, and is generally thought to have been composednbsp;originally for some occasion of national thank-offering, presumablynbsp;during the period of the monarchy.

In I Sam. ix we come to the story of Saul, which appears to be heroic (cf. p. 653). But the (non-heroic) story of Samuel is not yet at an end.nbsp;It would seem that the story of Saul, which is universally held to be thenbsp;older of the two, has been incorporated in the latter. To the former are

assigned cap. ix, x, i-i6, xi, parts of xiii, xiv, while the intervening passages are believed to come from the story of Samuel. According tonbsp;the current view both stories or �Lives� were in written form before theynbsp;were combined; but the interweaving would be more easily explicablenbsp;if this were true only of the earlier story. In the following chaptersnbsp;(xv-xvii) the non-heroic narrative is continued; but in cap. xvi thenbsp;interest passes over from Samuel to David, and in cap. xvii is centrednbsp;wholly in the latter. This suggests to us that the work in question, if itnbsp;ever existed as a separate document, was not merely a Life of Samuel,nbsp;but rather a collection of non-heroic stories relating to the times beforenbsp;David became king and brought together as an introduction to hisnbsp;story. But is the existence of this written work really certain.^ Afternbsp;cap. xvii non-heroic elements occur from time to time in the narrative,nbsp;though we do not know of any long sections which can be described asnbsp;definitely non-heroic. The evidence throughout suggests to us the worknbsp;of a man who took the heroic stories�already written down�of Saulnbsp;and David as his basis, and added to them much � editorial � matter, asnbsp;well as stories current in his own (non-heroic) circle. The occurrence ofnbsp;variants and discrepancies does not of course necessarily mean that onenbsp;passage is of heroic, and the other of non-heroic, origin.

The non-heroic element in II Samuel is very slight. The chief passage is cap. vii, which is derived, we suspect, from �Temple-saga�. Referencenbsp;may also be made to the poetry in cap. xxii f. Elsewhere passages andnbsp;expressions of a religious character are frequent enough; but they seemnbsp;to us to prove nothing as to their origin. They may mean no more thannbsp;that the Hebrew nobility, like the Indian, were much occupied withnbsp;religion.

In the Books of Kings on the other hand non-heroic elements are predominant throughout, except in 1. i, ii, which seem properly tonbsp;belong to II Samuel. We may omit from consideration both thesenbsp;chapters and also iii-xi,� which, though doubtless of non-heroic origin,nbsp;are mainly of antiquarian interest. The rest of the work consists ofnbsp;notices, generally short, of the reigns of the kings of Israel and Judah,nbsp;set in a pronouncedly non-heroic framework and interspersed with non-heroic stories of kings and prophets. In the summaries of the reigns everynbsp;king has a moral judgment passed upon his acts in accordance with thenbsp;Deuteronomic standard ; but we will confine our attention to the stories.

� Cap. xi, however, seems properly to belong to what follows. Both the matter and the treatment are analogous to what we find in the accounts of the subsequentnbsp;reigns.

The first story is that of the revolt of Jeroboam, described in cap. xii. The interest here is at least as much national as personal, while on thenbsp;personal side it is bound up with the story of Ahijah�s prophecy, relatednbsp;in the preceding chapter. The next incident (xii. 22 ff.) is the intervention of the prophet Shemaiah, which prevents Rehoboam from attackingnbsp;Israel. This again is followed by an account of Jeroboam�s religiousnbsp;ordinances. Cap. xiii is occupied with the story of the two namelessnbsp;prophets, which seems to date from the time of Josiah or later. Cap. xivnbsp;relates (1-20) how Jeroboam�s wife consults the prophet Ahijah withnbsp;regard to her son�s illness; then (21 IF.) it gives a short account of thenbsp;invasion of Judah by Shishak, king of Egypt, and the treasure he exactednbsp;from Rehoboam. It may be suspected that the last story is derived fromnbsp;the traditions of the Temple.

This short summary of the reigns of Jeroboam and Rehoboam will serve to illustrate the general character of the stories contained in thenbsp;two Books. The interest is sometimes national rather than personal.nbsp;Where it is personal it is usually centred in a prophet. There are indeednbsp;a large number of stories in which kings are the most prominent figures ;nbsp;but in these the interest usually lies not so much in their personalnbsp;adventures or exploits as in their relations with prophets and theirnbsp;attitude to the religion of Jehovah.

We may next take the stories of Elijah and Elisha, which extend from I. xvii to II. xiii and form perhaps the most striking element in thesenbsp;Books. They are closely bound up with the history of the kings ofnbsp;Israel, Ahab and his successors. Some of these stories are very picturesque; the cultivation of saga has attained a very high standard.nbsp;Elijah usually appears alone; he is represented as carrying on a longnbsp;struggle single-handed against Ahab and his court. But Elisha is frequently associated with the � sons of the prophets �, societies of whom seemnbsp;to have existed in various towns. He is also evidently held in muchnbsp;honour by the kings, even by Jehoram, son of Ahab, as well as by thosenbsp;of the following dynasty. We have already noted (p. 655) that the storiesnbsp;relating to this time show resemblances to heroic saga�which wouldnbsp;seem to suggest that the prophetic circles, in which they presumablynbsp;took shape, were then in more or less close contact with the court andnbsp;military circles.

There are one or two stories relating to the times of Elijah and Elisha, in which neither of these prophets figures. The most striking ofnbsp;these is the story of Ahab�s death. Elijah seems to be still alive; but henbsp;is not mentioned. The true prophet in the story is a certain Micaiah.

The story of Elisha�s death (II. xiii. 14 If.) seems to be the last instance of saga in the northern kingdom.� The accounts of the later reigns consist of what are apparently historical notices, though they arenbsp;not free from chronological mistakes, especially in regard to the reignnbsp;of Pekah.

The amount of saga from the kingdom of Judah is much less. It is non-heroic, but of a different kind from what we have been discussing;nbsp;prophets are seldom mentioned. The chief centre and home of saga, as ofnbsp;tradition generally, was evidently the Temple at Jerusalem. This maynbsp;be seen by the frequent references to the treasures of the Temple, whichnbsp;go back as far as the times of Rehoboam and Asa (I. xiv. 26 ; xv. 15, 18).nbsp;The first story, however, which is told at length is that of Athaliahnbsp;(II. xi). In this case the scene is laid wholly in the Temple. It is herenbsp;that the child Joash is concealed for six years, when the queen-mothernbsp;has destroyed the rest of the royal family. It is in the Temple too thatnbsp;the dramatic scene takes place, when the child is proclaimed king bynbsp;the high-priest Jehoiada; Athaliah hastens in to know what is happeningnbsp;and is carried away to execution. The next chapter gives an account ofnbsp;the repairs to the Temple undertaken by Joash and Jehoiada.

In cap. xiv (8 If.) a short story is told of Amaziah, son of Joash. He sends a reckless challenge to Jehoash, king of Israel, to which the latternbsp;replies with a disdainful reference to a cedar and a thistle. Amaziahnbsp;insists upon fighting, and is defeated. The challenge seems to preservenbsp;an echo of heroic conditions; but the notice of the losses incurred by thenbsp;Temple, when it was plundered by the victorious king, again point tonbsp;saga originating in this quarter.�

The next story (xvi. 7 ff.) relates to Ahaz, grandson of Amaziah. He goes to Damascus to meet Tiglath-pileser, king of Assyria, and sees therenbsp;an altar, of which he sends a model to the priest Urijah at Jerusalem. Thenbsp;latter makes a copy of it for the Temple; and the account then goes on tonbsp;describe other changes in the Temple and its arrangements, which werenbsp;ordered by Ahaz. Again there can be no doubt as to the source of thenbsp;record.

By this time a written literature must already have been in existence. Yet saga would seem to have been still cultivated in the reign of Heze-

� Except perhaps the short story of Amaziah�s defeat (xiv. 8 ff.); see below.

� Some scholars take this story to be of northern origin, owing to the description of Beth-shemesh in xiv. ii. The context is ambiguous; the reference to the losses ofnbsp;the temple may have been added later. In II Chron. xxv. 20 Amaziah�s defeat isnbsp;attributed to his idolatry; but this of course may represent a later view.

kiah, son of Ahaz ; for it is difficult otherwise to account for the long story of Sennacherib�s invasion, preserved in cap. xviii f. The account ofnbsp;the mission to Jerusalem is generally thought to have been duplicated,nbsp;one version being given in xviii. 17-xix. 8, and the other in xix. 9-34;nbsp;and it can hardly be doubted that the two passages are to some extentnbsp;variants. And by this we do not mean merely that they are records of thenbsp;same events. The connection between them is �literary�, as may be seennbsp;(e.g.) from xviii. 33 ff. and xix. 12 f.; they are derived from the samenbsp;saga, though before they were written down they had come to differ sonbsp;much that their identity was apparently not recognised by the compiler.^nbsp;It may be noted that�in both versions�one scene is laid in the Templenbsp;�which suggests that this saga may have originated there, like thenbsp;stories noticed above.

In cap. XX we find further stories of Hezekiah, while cap. xxii f. contain stories of Josiah. So far as form goes, these also might be derived, in part at least, from saga; but there is no definite evidence to this effect, asnbsp;in the story discussed above. And there can be little doubt that the stylenbsp;of saga had been adopted into written literature before the time ofnbsp;Josiah.

It may be mentioned here that the Books of Chronicles contain a considerable number of stories relating to the period of kingship, in addition to those which they have borrowed from the Books of Samuel and of Kings. Like all the other matter contained in the Chronicles, thesenbsp;stories are concerned primarily with the kingdom of Judah. All ofnbsp;them are non-heroic, and composed or edited in the interest of thenbsp;national religion�very frequently they refer to the Temple and priesthood at Jerusalem. In these stories we meet with a number of prophetsnbsp;who are not mentioned in the Books of Kings. Probably all of thesenbsp;belong to Judah; one of them (II. xxiv. 20) is a son of the priestnbsp;Jehoiada.

The Chronicles are a very late work, hardly earlier than the third century (b.c.), at least in their present form; and their authority as anbsp;historical record is not rated high. But we find it difficult to doubt thatnbsp;they preserve a good deal of ancient tradition connected with thenbsp;Temple. The subject is of course one which can be dealt with only bynbsp;specialists; but it is of importance for the literary history, as well as thenbsp;general history, of the period. There was at least one long break in thenbsp;history of the Temple; but the organisation connected with it seems to

� The whole passage�including both versions of the story�is preserved also in Is. xxxvi f. ; but the language seems to show that this is derived from Kings.

665 have survived, and it is probable that to this in the main we owe the �nbsp;preservation of what has come down from the period of kingship. Thenbsp;Chronicles, even more than the Kings, point to intimate relations between the Temple and the Palace, which were adjacent buildings. Thusnbsp;in II Chron. xxii. 11 it is stated that the princess Jehoshabeath, who savednbsp;the life of the child Joash, was the wife of the priest Jehoiada�a statement which certainly helps to explain the course of events. The existencenbsp;of such relations will account for the preservation of the court saganbsp;which we have in II Samuel, and also for the fact that non-heroic saganbsp;(in Kings) shows in Judah a somewhat different character from what wenbsp;find in the kingdom of Israel and elsewhere.

In conclusion reference should perhaps be made here to the Book of Ruth, though we do not think it is properly to be regarded as nonheroic saga. The majority of scholars now believe it to be a late work,nbsp;though there are some who still maintain its early date. Its origin isnbsp;perhaps to be compared with that of some of the Norse Fornaldar S�gur,nbsp;or �Stories of Ancient Times�, in which a thin strand of tradition hasnbsp;been utilised to form the basis of an imaginative work. In short wenbsp;should be inclined to regard it as a romance. The incentive to its composition may in the first place have been antiquarian�i.e. interest in thenbsp;ancestry of David�just as in the case of some of the Fornaldar S�gur;nbsp;but it can hardly be described as a didactic work, any more than these.nbsp;It gives the impression of having been intended primarily for femininenbsp;circles.

Note. In the story of Samuel (p. 660 f.) we have followed in the main the commonly accepted analysis of the text (from cap. viii onwards), whichnbsp;appears to be well founded. Of the two constituent elements the (originallynbsp;heroic) �story of Saul� (cf. p. 653 f.) seems to be the earlier, though bothnbsp;may well be derived from collections of stories. But we are inclined tonbsp;suspect that too much importance has been attached to the apparent discrepancies between the two elements in regard to the position of Samuelnbsp;(cf. p. 634). A somewhat similar double r�le�of seer and ruler�is implied in the story of Moses ; and in the course of our work we have metnbsp;with analogies, not very rarely, elsewhere�especially perhaps in Africa.nbsp;Some of these will be noticed in Vol. iii.

IN Vol. I, p. 64 ff., we discussed certain characteristics of heroic stories under the following headings: (i) The social standing ofnbsp;the personnel; (2) the scenes of the stories; (3) the accessories ofnbsp;heroic life; (4) social standards and conventions.

The Hebrew evidence relating to these subjects is almost all contained in the Books of Samuel, especially the story of David. Some little evidence, however, chiefly of an indirect character, may be foundnbsp;elsewhere.

(i) The personnel of the story of David seems to be very similar to what we find in the ancient heroic stories of the West and of India.nbsp;Most of the characters are members of the royal family, the court or thenbsp;comitatus�a list of which is given in II Sam. xxiii. There are alsonbsp;certain ministers of state, together with priests and a prophet. In addition to these we meet with a number of persons whose rank is notnbsp;stated; but persons not attached to the service of kings and princes arenbsp;frequently nameless, as in the case of the wise women who figure innbsp;II Sam. xiv and xx.

In David�s time kingship is said to have been a recent institution in Israel.� In Judges we hear of a long succession of rulers, only one ofnbsp;whom (Abimelech) is a king, while the rest are called �judges�. Butnbsp;this historical scheme is believed by many to be the work of a latenbsp;(Deuteronomic) editor. The stories themselves suggest that the authoritynbsp;of the various leaders was merely local. Several passages in Numbersnbsp;(derived from P) and Chronicles speak of princes or chiefs of the tribesnbsp;in the time of Moses ; and though the authorities are late, it may be thatnbsp;each tribe had a ruler or ruling family of its own in early times. One ofnbsp;the names which occur regularly in the lists is Nahshon, �prince ofnbsp;Judah�, who according to the genealogies in Ruth iv. 18 ff., I Chron.nbsp;ii. 10 ff. was an ancestor of David in the fifth generation. Possibly there-

' Kings of cities are frequently mentioned in the Book of Joshua, e.g. xii. 9 ff., where a list of thirty-one such kings is given. But these belong to the Canaanites andnbsp;other native peoples. Ahimelech�s kingship at Shechem is perhaps to be regarded asnbsp;primarily Canaanitish.

667 fore, if we may put any trust in the evidence, David�s family had anbsp;hereditary right to rule in Judah. On the orher hand, in I Sam. ix. 21,nbsp;Saul is said to have belonged to an unimportant family in Benjamin.nbsp;But the political conditions of the period before the institution of king-ship are obscure.

In non-heroic stories, especially such as relate to prophets, the characters seem to be drawn from a wider circle. Some prophets, likenbsp;Nathan, evidently have a recognised position at the court. But this isnbsp;not the case as a rule with the prophets mentioned in the Books ofnbsp;Kings, at all events those who belong to the northern kingdom. Usuallynbsp;they are in opposition to the kings. As to their own position in lifenbsp;little information is given; but sometimes they seem to be associatednbsp;with the �sons of the prophets�. Elijah�s origin is not stated; Elishanbsp;would seem from I. xix. 19 to be a well-to-do farmer. The evidence isnbsp;perhaps too slight to be of much value; but it may be worth noting thatnbsp;Amos (vii. 14) describes himself as a herdsman and woodman.

The scene of one very remarkable story (I Sam. xxviii) is laid in the house of a witch, who at Saul�s request brings up the ghost of Samuel.nbsp;In its present form at least this story is non-heroic; Samuel declares tonbsp;Saul that his case is hopeless owing to his disobedience to the divinenbsp;commands. The wording of the speech may of course be due to annbsp;editor; but it is not easy to see how Samuel could have been introducednbsp;for any essentially different purpose. For the incident as a whole wenbsp;know no precise parallels in either heroic or non-heroic stories, thoughnbsp;analogies for the various elements are of not infrequent occurrence.^

� Especially in early Norse poetry, e.g. Vegtamskvida, Gr�galdr, and Helgakv. Hund. II. 40 ff. There may have been a tradition that Myrddin prophesied after hisnbsp;death, though the prophecies recorded under this title are very late (cf. Vol. i,nbsp;p. 107). We may also refer to the consultation of Teiresias in the Odyssey., xi. 90 ff.

when they visit him. Feasting on a large scale is recorded in I Chron. xii. 39 f. But we do not hear of the constant feasting or drinking whichnbsp;seems to occupy every evening in the West. On the other hand muchnbsp;more attention is paid to the king�s harem. Indeed it would seem that anbsp;king�s reputation depended largely upon the number of his wives andnbsp;concubines. Western analogies are of course not unknown�we maynbsp;instance Priam, Attila and Harold the Fair-haired�but they are not verynbsp;frequent. Certain passages, especially II Sam. xvi. 21 f., suggest that thenbsp;appropriation of a king�s concubines by an ambitious prince was regarded as an act of daring calculated to win adherents to his cause.

References to the weapons of heroes are curiously rare. This may be explained in part if, as we think, the story of David, or most of it, wasnbsp;intended in the first place for feminine circulation. But it is rather remarkable that so little should be said of weapons in such passages asnbsp;II Sam. xxiii and I Chron. xi f. The sword captured from Goliath seemsnbsp;from I Sam. xxi. 9 to have been deposited in a sanctuary.

Horses and dogs are of no account in the story of David. For dogs this is true of all early Hebrew literature ; they appear only as scavengers.nbsp;But the evidence relating to the horse is interesting. From the time ofnbsp;Solomon onwards horses and chariots are regularly associated withnbsp;kings and their troops. In a time of famine Ahab�s chief concern is for hisnbsp;horses (I Kings xviii. 5 f.). When going on a journey or to battle a kingnbsp;always drives in a chariot. The wounded Joram has a chariot in readiness, in which he drives out, apparently a few hundred yards, to meet hisnbsp;general (II. ix. 21). At Jerusalem there was a special gateway for horsesnbsp;in the palace (ib. xi. 16). We have seen (p. 655) that in this period thenbsp;divine power itself is said to be manifested in the form of chariots andnbsp;horses. The armies of both Israel and Judah consist largely of chariotry.

David, however, is never represented as using chariot or horses. In the whole story Absalom is the only prince who provides himself withnbsp;a chariot (II Sam. xv. i), though on the field of battle he rides a mule {ib.nbsp;xviii. 9). Only in the northern plains David seems to have had a smallnbsp;�-but very small�force of chariotry; for in the Syrian war he is saidnbsp;(jb. viii. 4) to have destroyed all the captured horses, except what werenbsp;sufficient for a hundred chariots. The use of chariot and horses by thenbsp;Israelites appears to be an innovation of David�s or Solomon�s time ;

� The Books of Joshua and Judges contain a number of references to their use by the native peoples against the Israelites. Most of these relate to the northern part ofnbsp;the country, e.g. Josh. xi. 4, 9; Judg. iv, v. 22, 29. But in Judg. i. 19 we hear of themnbsp;also in the south.

669 neither Saul nor any earlier leader is said to possess them. This is remarkable in view of the fact that the Egyptians and the Hittites hadnbsp;carried on chariot warfare in Palestine, at least on the lower ground,nbsp;several centuries before David�s time.^ Possibly the roads had gone outnbsp;of use. Still more noteworthy, however, is the fact that the records havenbsp;so faithfully preserved the difference between the earlier and laternbsp;conditions. It confirms the antiquity of the heroic saga in the Books ofnbsp;Samuel, and also gives good reason for believing that early saga isnbsp;preserved in the Book of Judges. The only anachronism in this respectnbsp;which we have observed occurs�in a definitely non-heroic context�nbsp;in I Sam. viii. ii f., where Samuel speaks of service with horses andnbsp;chariots as one of the evils which the appointment of a king will involve. The author evidently has in mind the conditions of a later day.nbsp;There is no evidence that Saul possessed either horse or chariot;nbsp;everything that we hear of him suggests that he was extremelynbsp;poor.

(4) In spite of the newness of the kingship we hear a good deal of court etiquette. It is frequently recorded that when members of thenbsp;court and visitors come to see the king they do obeisance to him�muchnbsp;as in Russian and Yugoslav heroic poems. The formalities observed in annbsp;interview between Solomon and his mother are duly noted in I Kingsnbsp;ii. 19.� In II Sam. xv. i ff. Absalom begins to live in state, when he isnbsp;aspiring to displace his father. He provides himself with a chariot andnbsp;fifty men to run before him, presumably in imitation of foreign kings.nbsp;David�s life seems to be less ostentatious; but he entertains some men,nbsp;including a son of Jonathan, as perpetual guests in his household. Wenbsp;hear also of embassies coming with presents from foreign kings (ih.nbsp;V. ii; viii. 10); but no details are recorded as to their reception.

In ethical standards there is much variety, such as one might expect in a time of great political and social change. The heroic standard is wellnbsp;represented by the Philistine Ittai of Gath, who enters David�s servicenbsp;shortly before Absalom�s rebellion. When David has to leave Jerusalem,nbsp;he advises Ittai to return to his own land (II Sam. xv. 19 ff.). But thenbsp;latter firmly refuses to forsake him; and in the sequel (cf. I Kings i. 38,

� According to I Kings x. 28 f. Solomon obtained his horses and chariots from Egypt; and the context seems to mean that the Syrians and Hittites likewisenbsp;obtained them from there. But see Camb. Anc. Hist. iii. 256, 357. Was trade innbsp;horses allowed only by special treaty.^ For Philistine chariots see I Sam. xiii. 5.

� It may be noted that in II Sam. vi. 16 David�s wife Michal, daughter of Saul, is annoyed at seeing her husband give way to religious ecstasy. When he returns, shenbsp;reproves him (ib. 20) ; and a quarrel ensues.

44) the Philistine mercenaries are evidently among the most reliable troops. At an earlier time David himself had served under Achish, kingnbsp;of Gath, and was regarded as loyal by him (I Sam. xxix. 3, 6 ff.).

A somewhat different and probably more primitive ethical standard may be seen in the case of Joab, David�s nephew and commander-in-chief. Joab seems to be thoroughly loyal to David throughout, thoughnbsp;the narrative is evidently biassed against him. But he is apt to take thenbsp;law into his own hands, especially where wrongs to himself are concerned, as in the cases of Abner and Amasa. Family quarrels are common enough, e.g. in both Saul�s and David�s families. But it is a remarkable feature in David�s character that he is reluctant to take vengeance.nbsp;This may be seen not merely in his attitude to Absalom, but still more innbsp;the fact that he promotes Amasa, Absalom�s general. He punishes thenbsp;Ammonites for the insult done by them to his envoys. But it maynbsp;perhaps be inferred that this was followed by a conciliatory policy;nbsp;for one of their princes comes to his assistance when he is driven out bynbsp;Absalom. Savage treatment of enemies seems to be rare; we hearnbsp;nothing of wars of extermination,� such as occur so frequently in thenbsp;Book of Joshua. Warfare of this kind is clearly a non-heroic characteristic. In I Sam. xv it is the prophet Samuel himself who kills Agag,nbsp;when Saul has given him quarter.

In Vol. I, p. 80 ff. we discussed the subject of Individualism under the two headings: (i) Individualism and nationality; (2) Heroicnbsp;warfare.

(i) The contrast between individualism and nationalism is strikingly illustrated by a comparison of the heroic and non-heroic records discussed above. In reality, however, it is clear that sometimes the contrastnbsp;lies not more in the attitude of the records themselves than in that of thenbsp;persons with whom they deal. The kings and their adherents in generalnbsp;represent the individualism regularly associated with heroic conditionsnbsp;and ideals; the prophets usually stand for national interests andnbsp;ideals.

David was regarded in the kingdom of Judah in later times as the national hero par excellence; but in the records of his life this characteristic is hardly to be found except in the account of his youthful

* Apart from I Sam. xxvii. 7 f., where he is said to have perpetrated a wholesale massacre in a raid towards the south. This, however, took place while he was innbsp;exile with the Philistines, before he became king, and a special, though perhaps notnbsp;very adequate, reason is alleged for it.

671 exploit against Goliath, which has definite non-heroic and probablynbsp;also legendary features. Elsewhere his actions are governed by thenbsp;individualism characteristic of heroic kingship in other lands; he seemsnbsp;to be little influenced by national prejudices. When threatened by Saulnbsp;he twice � seeks service under the Philistine Achish, king of Gath (I Sam.nbsp;xxi. II ff., xxvii); and he follows this king to battle against Israel (ib.nbsp;xxix), though the other princes of the Philistines insist on his withdrawing from the army. Again, both before and after he became king,nbsp;he had foreigners among his most trusted warriors, including Hittites,nbsp;like Ahimelech {ib. xxvi. 6) and Uriah (II Sam. xi), and Philistines, likenbsp;Ittai of Gath (cf. p. 669), as well as Ammonites and others. In his laternbsp;years he had a standing force of Cherethites and Pelethites, apparentlynbsp;Philistines, who were evidently among the most trustworthy troops henbsp;had. In his dealings with foreign rulers he seems to have followed muchnbsp;the same lines as other heroic kings, conquering some and enteringnbsp;into friendly relations with others. Savage treatment of enemies is butnbsp;seldom attributed to him, as we have seen. He is said to have married atnbsp;least one foreign wife (II Sam. iii. 3).

Solomon�s kingship was evidently still more of an international, though hardly heroic, character. We hear of no wars in his reign; hisnbsp;activities and ambitions would seem to have been commercial, rathernbsp;than military. He is said to have had an immense harem, recruitednbsp;largely from the royal families of the neighbouring nations, and to havenbsp;provided all his wives with sanctuaries for their national deities (I Kingsnbsp;xi. 1-8).

The later kings, at least in the northern kingdom, seem to have followed much the same policy as David, though their dominions were far lessnbsp;extensive. Sometimes they married foreign wives. Thus Jeroboam I isnbsp;said^ to have married an Egyptian princess, like Solomon, while Ahab�snbsp;wife, Jezebel, was a daughter of the king of Sidon. The latter marriagenbsp;seems to have been responsible for the introduction of the cult of thenbsp;Phoenician Baal, which is vigorously opposed by the prophet Elijah.nbsp;The revolution under Jehu may have been largely of a national character ;nbsp;at all events it is specially directed against this cult. In the smaller kingdom of Judah national feeling appears to be more prominent throughout, though Jehoshaphat and his family are closely associated with

� These two incidents have so little in common that they can hardly be regarded as variants. But we do not mean to suggest that both of them are historical, or evennbsp;that they could originally have belonged to the same story.

Ahab and his sons. In II Chron. xix. 2 this friendship is denounced by the prophet Jehu, son of Hanani.

In earlier times Saul seems to be a more definitely national king than David. His reign apparently is almost continuously occupied with warfare against the Philistines. There is no record of his uniting himselfnbsp;or his family with foreign royal families by means of marriage, or indeednbsp;of his having any relations with foreign kings, though he had an Edomite (Doeg) in his service. The difference between his policy and David�snbsp;may be seen in his treatment of the Gibeonites, a Canaanitish people,nbsp;with whom the Israelites are said to have made a special treaty in Joshua�snbsp;time (Josh. ix. 15 ff.). According to I Sam. xxi. i ff. a famine arose innbsp;David�s time, which was believed to be due to the fact that Saul in hisnbsp;national zeal had made a slaughter of the Gibeonites. David offerednbsp;them redress; and at their request gave up to them seven of Saul�snbsp;family, to be hanged. Of course he may not have been too reluctant tonbsp;get rid of possible rivals. On the other hand it is to be borne in mind thatnbsp;Saul himself was unwilling to put to death Agag, king of the Amalekites,nbsp;who had surrendered to him, and that he incurred thereby the wrath ofnbsp;the prophet Samuel.

The prophets are usually, though not invariably, uncompromising nationalists ; for the religion of Jehovah is generally regarded as essentially national. In I Sara. xv. 3 Samuel orders the complete destructionnbsp;of the Amalekites�men, women, children, and even livestock. According to Ex. xvii. 14 ff. this people, who seem to have been a branch of thenbsp;Edomites, had been made the object of a special curse, and denouncednbsp;as the enemies of Jehovah for ever. When Samuel discovers that hisnbsp;orders have only been carried out in part, he cuts Agag in pieces,nbsp;apparently with his own hand, and then declares to Saul that he hasnbsp;forfeited the kingdom by his disobedience.

Wholesale massacres and destructions of this kind, carried out in obedience to religious vows, are to be found among various othernbsp;peoples.^ In Hebrew antiquarian literature they are frequently recorded ;nbsp;but the victims are usually not external enemies but inhabitants of thenbsp;land. According to their traditions the Israelites believed themselves tonbsp;be invaders, and that they had received a divine command to overthrow and drive out the native peoples, the Canaanites and others, whomnbsp;they held to be of different race from themselves, though they seem tonbsp;have spoken the same language. In Ex. xxiii. 23 ff., xxxiv. 11 f. it isnbsp;expressly forbidden to make any treaties with these peoples, to worshipnbsp;� For instances among European peoples see p. 658, note.

673 their deities, or to have relations with their women. In accordance withnbsp;this belief we hear in the Book of Joshua very frequently of wholesalenbsp;massacres, in which the entire population of a city is slaughtered, thoughnbsp;the cattle are usually�not always�appropriated by the invaders. Onlynbsp;once, in the case of the Hivites or Gibeonites mentioned above, is thenbsp;prohibition against treaties explicitly transgressed; and this is said (Josh,nbsp;ix. 3 ff.) to have been brought about by a stratagem of the Gibeonites.nbsp;There are, however, several passages, especially Judg. i. 19 ff., 27 If.,nbsp;which state that the Israelites failed to expel the natives from variousnbsp;places�a considerable number in all�and in most of these cases annbsp;agreement of some kind is implied. For this reason the Angel ofnbsp;Jehovah visits Israel in Judg. ii. i If., and rebukes them for neglect ofnbsp;his commands, which will bring trouble in the future. Illustrations ofnbsp;this occur in the following chapters.

Samuel�s sympathies are clearly national. But the stories recorded of him are concerned with external enemies, the Amalekites and Philistines,nbsp;the latter of whom would seem to have conquered a large part of thenbsp;country. We hear nothing of his attitude towards the native peoples,nbsp;though Saul, as we have seen, is said to have persecuted them.

The attitude of David�s prophets is evidently different. In II Sam. xii Nathan boldly rebukes the king for causing the death of Uriah thenbsp;Hittite. The Hittites� are regularly included in the lists of proscribednbsp;peoples; but this fact is never alluded to in connection with Uriah.nbsp;David is treated as guilty of an offence against Jehovah; and though itnbsp;seems to be rather lightly forgiven (xii. 13), it was apparently thoughtnbsp;of in later times as his one great sin. Jehovah is here regarded as thenbsp;defender of what we should call ethical principles, independent ofnbsp;nationality. Again, on the occasion of the plague, David is ordered bynbsp;his seer Gad to build an altar in the threshing-floor of Araunah thenbsp;Jebusite, the place where the angel has appeared (II Sam. xxiv. 16 ff.).nbsp;The Jebusites also regularly figure among the proscribed peoples; butnbsp;they have evidently not been expelled from Jerusalem�at least notnbsp;wholly. David�s dealings with Araunah are friendly; and the angel doesnbsp;not shun his land.

These passages, together with the incident relating to the Gibeonites, noticed on p. 672, suggest that David, at least after he became king,

� Hebrew tradition seems to regard the Hittites as one of the native peoples of Canaan, where they are found even in the story of Abraham, though it knows also ofnbsp;Hittite kings in the north. The Hittites of Canaan were presumably descendants ofnbsp;early invaders, who had become assimilated to the natives of the land.

made little or no distinction in his treatment of Israelites and nonIsraelites, and that his policy was accepted by his prophets. Solomon apparently followed the same lines to some extent, since he is said tonbsp;have celebrated a great sacrifice at Gibeon (I Kings iii. 4 If.) ; but elsewhere (ix. 20 f.) we hear that he raised a levy of bondservants from thenbsp;native peoples. After this we have no further record of them within thenbsp;borders of Israel � and it would seem that they became amalgamatednbsp;with the invaders. But Solomon�s international policy, and in particularnbsp;his marriages and the foreign cults introduced thereby, appear to havenbsp;given rise to a recrudescence of national feeling, at least in religiousnbsp;circles. The denunciations contained in I Kings xi are believed to benbsp;late; but there is no need to doubt that Jeroboam�s revolt was partly of anbsp;nationalist character.� According to xi. 29 if. the first incitement camenbsp;from the prophet Ahijah.

Prophets again appear as leaders of national feeling in the stories of Elijah and Elisha. Ahab�s marriage with a Sidonian princess leads to thenbsp;establishment of the cult of the Phoenician Baal; and the result is anbsp;religious struggle, involving massacres of prophets on both sidesnbsp;(I Kings, xviii. 4, 40). With the Syrian war, which is the chief feature ofnbsp;this period, Elijah is not said to be concerned�his activities are directednbsp;against the king�s moral and religious offences�but the war policy isnbsp;led by other prophets, three of whom (unnamed) are introduced innbsp;I. XX, and others again in 1. xxii. Elisha, whose influence seems to havenbsp;been very great, is consulted by Syrian princes on more than onenbsp;occasion; but he also acts as adviser against them. His chief work,nbsp;however, is the revolution which places Jehu on the throne. Thisnbsp;brought an end to the religious strife by massacres which were remembered a century later by the prophet Hosea (i. 4, etc.).

In Judah the introduction of the cult of Baal by Ahab�s daughter is said to have led to similar tragedies, though on a smaller scale. In thisnbsp;kingdom also the influence of the prophets seems to have been opposednbsp;to negotiations with foreign kings (e.g. II Chron. xvi. 7 ff. ; II Kingsnbsp;xix. 6 f., 20 ff.; XX. 14 ff.), and even to intimate relations with Israelnbsp;(e.g. II Chron. xix. 2; xxv. 7). But actual war between the two kingdoms is discouraged by the prophets on both sides (e.g. I Kings xii. 22 ff. ;nbsp;I Chron. xxviii. 9 ff.).

� Gezer was perhaps the last of these cities to lose its independence. According to I Kings ix. 16, it was captured by the Egyptians and given by them to Solomon as anbsp;dowry for his Egyptian wife.

� In addition to the burden of the industrial levies (cf. I Kings v. 13 ff., xii. 4).

In the works of the early prophets, Amos, Hosea, Isaiah and Micah, the feeling for nationality is still more marked than in the historicalnbsp;books. These prophets are seldom concerned with individuals, as werenbsp;Elijah and Elisha. Sometimes their prophecies are directed speciallynbsp;against the ruling family and wealthy classes; but their interest lies in thenbsp;nation as a whole. Frequently they speak of it as a personality�anbsp;figurative form of speech which makes their works, especially those ofnbsp;Hosea, difficult for a modern reader to understand. It may be notednbsp;that the kingdoms of Israel and Judah are not the only nations which arenbsp;thus treated. Amos and Isaiah give a good deal of attention to foreignnbsp;nations, and speak of them in much the same way.

(2) Illustrations of heroic warfare are hardly to be found in the latter part of the story of David. This part of the story shows little interest innbsp;fighting, for the reason, as we think (cf. p. 649 f.), that it was composednbsp;primarily for the entertainment of feminine audiences. Examples occurnbsp;in the earlier part of the story; and these conform to the type found innbsp;other lands (cf. Vol. i, p. 85 ff.). The fighting consists largely of singlenbsp;combats. We may instance the story of Goliath (I Sam. xvii). This storynbsp;has non-heroic and legendary features ; but it illustrates the challengingnbsp;and the boasting before the encounter, which is typical of this kind ofnbsp;warfare. We may also note Saul�s offer of great rewards, including thenbsp;hand of his daughter, to anyone who should overthrow the Philistine.nbsp;The latter motif recurs ib. xviii. 25 ff., where Saul offers his daughter�snbsp;hand in return for a hundred foreskins of Philistines ; and David actuallynbsp;slays two hundred.

Short catalogues of heroic exploits, including single combats and combats against heavy odds, are to be found in II Sam. xxi. 15 ff.,nbsp;xxiii. 8 ff. To these we may add Jonathan�s exploit described in I Sam.nbsp;xiv. The two passages (I Sam. xxiv, xxvi) in which David surprisesnbsp;Saul, but spares his life, may also be mentioned here. Another typicalnbsp;heroic scene occurs in II Sam. ii. 13 ff., where the battle between Abnernbsp;and Joab begins with a contest between twelve warriors on either side.nbsp;During the battle Asahel, brother of Joab, is slain by Abner; and hisnbsp;death is subsequently avenged by Joab.

The non-heroic records show little interest in the details of fighting. It is recognised, however, that the great object in a battle is to kill thenbsp;leader of the enemy. The Syrian king�s orders (I Kings xxii. 31) are tonbsp;�fight neither with small nor great, save only with the king of Israel�.nbsp;In II. ix. 24 Jehu shoots Joram with his own hand.

Great cattle raids are carried out both by David and by the Amalekites (I Sam. xxvii. 8 f., xxx. iff., 18 ff.); women also are carried off by thenbsp;latter. There is no record that the Israelites were head-hunters ; but thenbsp;Philistines cut off the heads of distinguished enemies as trophies (ib.nbsp;xxxi. 9). David makes war upon Ammon (II Sam. x), to avenge thenbsp;insulting treatment of his envoys. In II Kings xiv. 8 ff. Amaziah provokes war with Israel out of mere bravado.

IN early Hebrew literature non-heroic saga is more extensive, and on the whole more important, than heroic. It is necessary therefore innbsp;this chapter to give as much attention to it as to the latter. In othernbsp;respects the material will be treated according to the schemes adopted innbsp;Vol. I, Chs. VII and viii.

1. First we will take the evidence available for demonstrating the existence of historical elements in the stories.

(a) Contemporary native historical records. These are not preserved in their original form. The only question is whether such records havenbsp;been incorporated or utilised in the existing texts. This of course is anbsp;difficult question, and one which only experts can decide. Some scholarsnbsp;think that the use of contemporary records is implied in the lists ofnbsp;officials and warriors in the reigns of David and Solomon. But thenbsp;evidence is far from conclusive; such lists often occur in heroic poetrynbsp;and saga (cf. p. 651). It is true that anachronisms and imaginativenbsp;elements are frequently to be found in the latter; but can it be provednbsp;that the Hebrew lists are historically accurate.^ Again, the existence ofnbsp;contemporary records in the later period is suggested both by thenbsp;references to earlier chronicles (cf. p. 631) and by the synchronising ofnbsp;the kings of Israel and Judah. But the chronology is not correct, thoughnbsp;on the whole it is not very far out. In particular we may note thatnbsp;Pekah, the last king but one of Israel, is given a reign of twenty years,nbsp;which in view of the Assyrian evidence is much too long.^ And this isnbsp;not a mere mistake in figures, which could be attributed to a laternbsp;copyist; for the synchronisms with the contemporary kings of Judahnbsp;(II Kings XV. 27, 32; xvi. i; xvii. i) are based upon it, and must therefore themselves date from a time long after this king. There are somenbsp;entries under Hezekiah (II Kings xviii. 9, 13) which we should be more

� Menahem seems to have been still reigning c. 739-8, while Pekah�s downfall took place apparently not later than 732. According to II Kings xv. 22 ff. Menahemnbsp;was succeeded by his son Pekahiah, who reigned two years before he was killed bynbsp;Pekah.

inclined to derive from contemporary records? But much of the account even of this reign seems to come from saga (cf. p. 663 f.).

(^) Foreign records consist wholly, or almost wholly, of contemporary inscriptions, celebrating the deeds of kings. These are of course invaluable, both as a check upon the chronology and because they shownbsp;the relationship of Hebrew history to the general history of the times.nbsp;Assyrian records mention many of the kings of Israel and Judah, fromnbsp;the time of Omri onwards, i.e. from early in the ninth century; and theirnbsp;evidence, so far as it goes, substantiates the succession recorded in thenbsp;Books of Kings. References in Egyptian records are less frequent, butnbsp;go back to an earlier time. Some scholars� identify the �Zerah thenbsp;Ethiopian�, who in II Chron. xiv. 9 ff. is defeated by Asa, king of Judah,nbsp;with Osorkon I, king of Egypt. The date of the battle is believed to benbsp;about the beginning of the ninth century. More certain is the invasionnbsp;of Shishak (Sheshonk I), king of Egypt, which is recorded (I Kings xiv.nbsp;25 f.) in the time of Rehoboam. An inscription of Shishak contains anbsp;detailed account of this invasion, which would seem to have taken placenbsp;c. 930. This is the earliest date for which foreign evidence is known asnbsp;yet. F or more than two centuries before this time foreign evidence seemsnbsp;to be practically wanting.3 Apparently neither Egypt nor the kingdomsnbsp;to the north were concerned with Palestine during this period. We hearnbsp;of Egyptian activities in Palestine in the thirteenth century and earlier,nbsp;and even in the early part of the twelfth ; but Hebrew saga and poetry,nbsp;except what is of definitely antiquarian character, hardly reaches backnbsp;so far as this.

We are not certain whether the inscription of Mesha, king of Moab, should be mentioned here or under (a), above; for the language is saidnbsp;to be almost identical with Hebrew. It is a most valuable contemporarynbsp;authority for the times of Ahab and his family. In it Mesha gives anbsp;detailed account of the victories he gained over Israel and the spoilsnbsp;which he won thereby. But he makes no reference to Joram, nor to

� It may be observed, however, that similar phrases (giving dates) occur occasionally in earlier times (I Kings xiv. 25 ; II. xii. 6). We do not know the explanation. The passages point to the Temple.

Cf. Petrie, History of Egypt, ii. 242 f. ; Hall, Camb. j4nc. Hist. in. 261. The battle is not mentioned in Egyptian records; and the identification of the names Zerah andnbsp;Osorkon is not allowed by all scholars (cf. Cook, ib. p. 360). The chief argument fornbsp;the connection is that in II Chron. xvi. 8 the army, like that of Shishak {ib. xii. 3), isnbsp;said to have contained Lubim (apparently Libyans), as well as �Ethiopians�.

3 The story of Wenamon dates from this period (not long before i too), but relates only to the Phoenician cities�which seem to be Independent.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN SAGAS 679 Judah or Edom; consequently the chronological relationship of thenbsp;events to the war described in II Kings iii. 4 IF. is not clear.� But thenbsp;date cannot be far from the middle of the ninth century.

(c) The existence of independent traditions in different regions. There seems to be no traditional material of any value, except what isnbsp;preserved in the Old Testament. All of this, or at all events all thatnbsp;comes within our scope, has come down to us through Judaic channels.nbsp;Much of the material, however, which is contained in the Books ofnbsp;Kings, is doubtless derived from the northern kingdom; and the samenbsp;is probably true of Judges, and even of I Samuel. The northern andnbsp;southern traditions may originally have differed in many respects. Butnbsp;the former, as we have them, often reflect the (southern) milieu innbsp;which they have been preserved. Thus the kings of Israel are withoutnbsp;exception represented as evildoers; but it may be questioned whethernbsp;this was the view even of the prophets in their own kingdom�at leastnbsp;in the case of Jehu. Jeroboam I also may have been regarded in anbsp;different light. In the form in which we have them therefore the twonbsp;traditions cannot be regarded as strictly independent, though theynbsp;doubtless preserve independent elements. The most important of thesenbsp;are perhaps to be found in the antiquarian saga and poetry, which willnbsp;require notice in the following chapter.

(eZ) The existence of independent traditions in the same region. For the existence of different traditions�heroic and non-heroic�we havenbsp;had abundant evidence. They cannot be described as wholly independent;nbsp;for all the heroic material has presumably come down to us through nonheroic channels. But it is surprising that a large part of the story ofnbsp;David has so faithfully preserved its heroic character. This may be duenbsp;to the peculiar nature of the non-heroic channel�the Temple, wenbsp;suspect�through which the story has come down. In any case thenbsp;contrast which it presents to the other (non-heroic) records of the periodnbsp;is so pronounced that it must be regarded as practically equivalent to annbsp;independent tradition. In the story of Saul heroic elements are not sonbsp;well preserved, while in the stories of the �judges� they are obscured, ifnbsp;they can be traced at all.

(e) The consistency of heroic tradition. In the heroic parts of the story of David the evidence is detailed and convincing. Even the non-heroic tradition, though inferior, is generally good of its kind. Inconsistencies are by no means rare�we may instance the discrepancy as to

� A full transi, of the inscription is given by Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. ni. 372 f., where it is dated shortly before or after the accession of Jehu (c. 841).

the slayer of Goliath, the existence of variants, the different accounts of the origin of the kingship�but taken as a whole and as reflecting thenbsp;traditions of different districts and periods, they are such as tend rathernbsp;to confirm the general credibility of the records.

( � ) Archaeological evidence has become available, to any considerable extent, only in recent years ; and we have not sufficient knowledge of thenbsp;subject to deal with it. We need only remark that the description ofnbsp;Solomon�s Temple is so detailed that valuable results may be hoped fornbsp;from a comparison of the literary and archaeological evidence. It may,nbsp;however, be noted here that the records seem to indicate differences innbsp;civilisation between the earlier and later periods. We may refer innbsp;particular to the use of chariots and horses, which was discussed onnbsp;p. 668 f.

(g) and (�) The evidence of personal names and place-names. We cannot estimate the value of this evidence. To do so would require anbsp;knowledge of the language which we do not possess.

II. Next we may consider the unhistorical elements in the stories. Following the scheme adopted in Vol. i (p. 199 ff.), we may distinguishnbsp;three main types of these.

(i) Incidents and situations which are in conflict (a) with good historical evidence or with other stories. The amount of materialnbsp;available under (a) is not great, unless we include chronological mistakes�in the length of reigns�found in the Books of Kings. An instance of this kind has been noted above (p. 677). Some cases may ofnbsp;course be due merely to scribal error. As an illustration of quite anbsp;different kind we may take the striking contrast between the account ofnbsp;the war with Moab described in II Kings iii. 4 ff. and the contemporarynbsp;inscription of Mesha. If the two records relate to the same events, thenbsp;former must contain a large unhistorical element, whatever allowancenbsp;be made for exaggeration in the latter. But it is possible that they arenbsp;concerned with different phases of a long-continued war. Again, it isnbsp;difficult to reconcile the story of Sennacherib�s invasion given in II Kingsnbsp;xviii f. with the account of the same king�s achievements in Palestinenbsp;contained in his own inscriptions. Apart from the disaster mentioned innbsp;xix. 35, to which the Assyrian records make no reference, the formernbsp;seems to imply that Sennacherib was slain very soon after his returnnbsp;home. Yet the events narrated apparently took place, in part at least,nbsp;in 700, whereas Sennacherib was not killed until 681. Some scholarsnbsp;hold that he made a second expedition to Palestine towards the end of

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN SAGAS 68l his reign; and though this is not recorded in his inscriptions, theirnbsp;silence is not conclusive, because the records for his later years arenbsp;apparently defective. But in that case the Hebrew story would seem tonbsp;have confused two different campaigns. This story, as we have seennbsp;(p. 663 f.), is probably derived from saga; for it appears to contain twonbsp;variant accounts of the events. Such confusion or �telescoping� of thenbsp;history is therefore not unintelligible.

(J}) Inconsistencies between one story and another imply of course the presence of unhistorical elements in at least one of the two. Such inconsistencies and discrepancies have already perhaps been sufficientlynbsp;illustrated (p. 635 f.), in the discussion of variants. For examples we maynbsp;refer to the slaying of Goliath (cf. p. 635), the occasions on which Davidnbsp;takes Saul by surprise, the accounts of David�s Syrian war. As annbsp;example relating to much earlier times we may note the discrepancynbsp;between Josh, xi and Judg. iv as to the date of the war with Jabin, kingnbsp;of Hazor. The discrepancies in I Sam. viii and ix regarding the beginning of the kingdom are perhaps not quite so striking at first sight;nbsp;but they are thought to imply different conceptions of the politicalnbsp;condition of Israel at the time.

(ii) Incidents and situations which are in themselves incredible. Following the scheme adopted in Vol. i (p. 204 ff.) we may first takenbsp;(a) the introduction of supernatural beings. The �angel� (messenger) ofnbsp;Jehovah appears on several occasions in visible form and converses withnbsp;human beings. One of the most striking cases is Judg. vi. ii ff., wherenbsp;Gideon finds the angel sitting under an oak. He appears also (ib. xiii) tonbsp;Manoah and his wife, and converses with them (see below). In II Sam.nbsp;xxiv. 16 f. David sees the angel standing by the threshing-floor ofnbsp;Araunah the Jebusite. Similar incidents occur in the Hexateuch. Innbsp;II Kings ii. 11 a different form of theophany is introduced. Elijah isnbsp;separated from Elisha by a chariot and horses of fire; and the formernbsp;goes up into heaven by a whirlwind.

(^) Supernatural powers attributed to human beings. In the Book of Judges this feature is rare, except in the story of Samson, who has superhuman physical strength, so long as his hair remains unshorn. Amongnbsp;other feats he can rend a young lion without weapons and kill a thousand men with the jawbone of an ass. A parallel to the latter feat isnbsp;attributed (iii. 31) to a certain Shamgar, who slays six hundred Philistines with an ox-goad. In stories of this kind numbers seem to be usednbsp;quite recklessly. In the Books of Samuel supernatural powers arenbsp;practically limited to manticism, which will be noticed in Ch. vii.

Indeed the story of David is almost free from supernatural elements,, apart'from II Sam. xxiv (noticed above). In the Books of Kings, on thenbsp;other hand, prophets are frequently endowed with supernatural powers ;nbsp;but nearly all the examples belong to the stories of Elijah and Elisha.nbsp;Both these prophets can produce a supply of oil, and restore a dead childnbsp;to life�in which cases of course variant traditions may be suspected.nbsp;Elijah has power over drought and rain, and can bring down fire.nbsp;Elisha, like an Indian seer, can grant the birth of a child; he can alsonbsp;cure and produce leprosy, make iron to float, and work other wonders,nbsp;which will require notice in Ch. vn. Apart from the stories of thesenbsp;prophets, examples are rare. We may note the incident of Jeroboam andnbsp;the unnamed prophet in I Kings xiii. 4 If. and that of Isaiah and thenbsp;sun-dial in II. xx. 9ff-nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;�nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;. .

(c) Stories relating to the birth and childhood of great men. These are few in number. The most striking is the story of Manoah and hisnbsp;wife (Judg. xiii), when the angel visits them and prophesies the birth ofnbsp;Samson. Manoah offers a sacrifice, and the angel ascends in the flame ofnbsp;the altar. Samuel�s birth and childhood are described at some lengthnbsp;(I Sam. i ff.); but the supernatural element is slight. His birth is due tonbsp;the blessing of the priest Eli ; and he receives his first revelation whilenbsp;still a child, in the service of the same priest. It is somewhat curiousnbsp;that no stories of this kind are told of David�s birth. All we hear is (ib.nbsp;xvii. 34 ff.) that while still very young he killed a lion and a bear, innbsp;defence of his sheep.

Stories relating to the deaths of great men or to great men after their deaths are also very rare. We have already (p. 667) referred to the storynbsp;told in I Sam. xxviii, where Saul wishes to consult the dead Samuel, andnbsp;the witch brings up his ghost. For this we have found no precise analogiesnbsp;in the literatures which come within our scope. But the existence ofnbsp;similar beliefs is implied both in the Odyssey, xi. 90 ff., where Odysseusnbsp;consults the ghost of Teiresias, and in the Norse poems Vegtamskvi�anbsp;and Gr�galdr. But in the former case the scene is laid at the entrancenbsp;to the home of the dead, and there is no witch, while in the latternbsp;instances�which belong to mythology and folklore�the witches arenbsp;the dead persons themselves, consulted at their tombs. For the disappearance of Elijah, related in II Kings ii. it, we know of no truenbsp;parallels elsewhere. One can hardly compare the stories of supernaturalnbsp;beings who visit men and disappear mysteriously, often after thenbsp;violation of some taboo.

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN SAGAS 683 necessarily incredible in themselves nor yet in conflict with othernbsp;evidence. Under this head in Vol. i (p. 221 IT.) we treated (a) incidents,nbsp;motifs and characters which seem to be taken from some other story. Innbsp;the records we are now considering we have not noticed any importantnbsp;examples of this kind. It is possible, as we have seen, that some of thenbsp;incidents which are related of Elijah and of Elisha were originallynbsp;variants, and that they have been transferred from one of these prophetsnbsp;to the other. It is also quite likely that in Judg. iv Jabin, king of Hazor,nbsp;has been taken from a different story. But we have not observed anynbsp;longer or more detailed instances. Elements from folktales are probablynbsp;to be found in the story of Samson, and perhaps in other stories in thenbsp;Book of Judges; but we do not know their derivation.

(J}) The invention of incidents, motifs and characters or of whole stories. Of all unhistorical elements this is of course the type mostnbsp;difficult to trace. In the records we are now considering we do not feelnbsp;inclined to regard any stories as complete inventions, except perhapsnbsp;one or two in which the chief characters are nameless. Such may be thenbsp;case with the story (Judg. xix ff.) of the nameless Levite and the destruction of the tribe of Benjamin, though we confess that we cannotnbsp;see how or why such a story should come to be invented. Anothernbsp;possible example is the story of the nameless prophet from Judah, whonbsp;was killed by a lion (I Kings xiii). This story seems to be very late�notnbsp;earlier than the closing years of the seventh century. It may have beennbsp;suggested by a local story connected with a grave. Of course there maynbsp;be other stories in which fiction may be suggested by the names or othernbsp;circumstances. As regards names we have not the linguistic knowledgenbsp;necessary for estimating the value of the evidence; but in other respectsnbsp;the case for postulating fiction does not strike us as at all obvious anywhere, except perhaps in stories relating to Samson. We cannot pointnbsp;out any obviously fictitious characters. There may, however, be storiesnbsp;in which, as they stand, the leading motif is an invention of later times.nbsp;We may refer in particular to the discrepancies in stories relating tonbsp;Samuel, in regard to his position and his attitude to the establishment ofnbsp;the kingship.

We have been speaking here only of stories in the Books of Judges, Samuel and Kings. In what appear to be later stories relating to the samenbsp;period, contained in the Books of Chronicles and Ruth, the case fornbsp;fiction is probably stronger. The story of Ruth, as we have seennbsp;(p. 665), may perhaps best be explained as a romance based upon somenbsp;slight thread of (genealogical) tradition. In the Chronicles we may take

as an instance the account of Abijah�s war with Jeroboam (IL xiii). In Kings�where this king is called Abijam�it is merely stated (I. xv. 7)nbsp;that such a war took place. But the Chronicles give the story at somenbsp;length. They represent Abijah as a champion and preacher of the truenbsp;religion, and ascribe to him a complete victory; the numbers both of thenbsp;combatants and of the slain are, as usual, incredible. This story cannbsp;hardly have been known to the authors or editors of Kings; otherwisenbsp;they would not have reckoned Abijam (Abijah) among the evildoers.nbsp;It may be observed that the Chronicles contain a good number ofnbsp;passages which, like this, represent the interest of the priesthood and thenbsp;Levites. Many of them may be derived from priestly or Leviticalnbsp;tradition; but we do not know how old this was. The Chroniclesnbsp;frequently give information which is not found elsewhere and yet looksnbsp;authentic.

Taking the material as a whole it would seem that the historical element is at least as great as in any of the literatures we have considered.nbsp;The proportion, however, varies from one period to another. The storiesnbsp;preserved in the Books of Kings obviously contain large unhistoricalnbsp;elements; yet the general course of the history outlined in these booksnbsp;is at various points shown by contemporary foreign records to benbsp;substantially correct.

For the time of David such foreign evidence is wanting; we have to depend upon the Books of Samuel themselves. The latter part of thenbsp;story of David is as detailed and circumstantial as the best of the � Sagasnbsp;of Icelanders�; and we see no reason for doubting that, like these, it isnbsp;derived from more or less contemporary saga and is in the mainnbsp;historical, though it may contain a good deal of imaginative matter.nbsp;This carries the history of Israel back to c. 1000�perhaps three centuries before the general use of writing for literary purposes.

For the times of Samuel and Saul also external evidence is wanting. We have a number of stories, which may well have a historical basis; butnbsp;it is difficult to fix any dates, and even to determine the sequence ofnbsp;events. It is held by many scholars that Israel had been conquered bynbsp;the Philistines, as a result of the defeat recorded in I Sam. iv. From thenbsp;genealogy of the priests given in xiv. 3 (cf. xxii. 20) the date of this conquest has been calculated at c. 1080; for Abiathar, Ahitub�s grandsonnbsp;was David�s contemporary, and Ichabod, Ahitub�s brother, is saidnbsp;(iv. 19 ff.) to have been born immediately after the battle�though thenbsp;evidence of this passage would seem to be somewhat precarious. Innbsp;vii. 7 ff. Samuel himself is said to have freed the country from the

HISTORICAL AND UNHISTORICAL ELEMENTS IN SAGAS 685 Philistines by a subsequent victory. But this passage�which comesnbsp;from the later (non-heroic) narrative�is in conflict with the evidencenbsp;of the earlier narrative. Thus in x. 5 we hear apparently of some kind ofnbsp;Philistine authority, just before Saul becomes king, while inxiii. 19 flquot;,nbsp;it is stated that hardly any of the Israelites possessed weapons, becausenbsp;the Philistines did not allow them to have smiths. These passages, takennbsp;together with the general course of the narrative in cap. xiii f., suggestnbsp;that the war of liberation, if such it can properly be called, took place innbsp;Saul�s time. His position may perhaps be compared with that of Kara-Gjorgje in Serbia during the early years of last century; but he probablynbsp;had to deal with a less organised enemy.

The Book of Judges is arranged according to a chronological scheme, in which the judges follow one another in succession as rulers of Israel.nbsp;The figures given for the various periods of rule and the intervalsnbsp;between them amount altogether to about four centuries. But it isnbsp;generally recognised that this scheme is the work of those who collectednbsp;or edited the stories. The stories themselves are unconnected with onenbsp;another, except those of Gideon and Abimelech, and belong to differentnbsp;parts of the country; it is not clear that any of the judges rules the wholenbsp;of Israel. The length of time covered by the stories as a whole is therefore quite uncertain. All of them seem to relate to times anterior to thenbsp;reign of Saul; and some of them may go back as far as the twelfthnbsp;century. The story of Deborah and Barak, which is placed among thenbsp;earliest, has all the appearance�especially the poem�of a historicalnbsp;record; and we see no reason for doubting that most of the othernbsp;stories contain historical elements. But here again no foreign evidencenbsp;seems to be available.

Rameses III is recorded to have traversed Palestine with his armies in the early years of the twelfth century. The details of the conquestsnbsp;claimed by him are not generally credited�they are said to be copiednbsp;from earlier lists�but it is believed that he fought in Phoenicia andnbsp;probably at Kadesh on the Orontes, well to the north of Palestine. Thenbsp;country is thought to have been subject to him in some sense, though hisnbsp;troops may not have penetrated far into the hills. His inscriptions havenbsp;much to say about the Philistines, Hittites and other peoples, but do notnbsp;mention Israel. For a few years before this time�the last years of thenbsp;thirteenth century� Egypt had been in a state of anarchy ; but down tonbsp;this time Palestine had long been included in the Egyptian dominions.nbsp;In the reign of Memeptah (c. 1223) an unsuccessful rebellion is recordednbsp;to have taken place in Palestine. Among other geographical names,nbsp;Askalon, Gezer, etc., we hear of Israel, which is said to have been exter-

minated by the king. This is the first known occurrence of the name. The inscriptions of Rameses II and Seti I, however, mention a peoplenbsp;called Asher, which in Hebrew literature is the name of one of the tribesnbsp;of Israel. The same name is known also from Egyptian letters. It is clearnbsp;from both the inscriptions and the letters that Palestine was very wellnbsp;known to the Egyptians of the Nineteenth Dynasty. There are monuments of both Rameses II and Seti I even to the east of the Jordan valley.nbsp;The northern frontier was fixed by treaty on the Orontes c. 1265, afternbsp;long warfare with the Hittites. Under the Eighteenth Dynasty Egyptiannbsp;territory had extended much further to the north.

Little information relating to Palestine is available for the half century before the accession of Seti I (c. 1314). From the first half ofnbsp;the fourteenth century, however, i.e. the later reigns of the Eighteenthnbsp;Dynasty, we have most detailed information in the archives found at Elnbsp;Amarna. These archives contain many letters from governors or princesnbsp;in Palestine, who were evidently in more or less regular communicationnbsp;with the Egyptian government. The letters show that the country wasnbsp;at that time in a state of much confusion, owing partly to quarrelsnbsp;among the governors, but partly also to the incursions of a predatorynbsp;people called Habiru�a name which is now commonly identified withnbsp;�Hebrew�. Now the Israelites, according to their traditions, alwaysnbsp;believed that their ancestors were invaders, who had entered Palestinenbsp;from the desert. These traditions will require notice in the next chapter.nbsp;Here it will be enough to note that many scholars are inclined to identifynbsp;the incursions of the Habiru with the invasion of the Israelites undernbsp;Joshua. They point out that the general circumstances seem to be similarnbsp;in the two cases. Moreover in one particular case a city (Jericho), whichnbsp;is said to have been destroyed by the Israelites, has been proved bynbsp;excavation to have been destroyed about the beginning of the fourteenthnbsp;century. On the other hand it is to be borne in mind that the archives ofnbsp;El Amarna never mention the name Israel or the names of any of thenbsp;tribes of Israel, so far as we are aware. Unfortunately the archives ceasenbsp;at a point before the movements of the Habiru had achieved any decisivenbsp;result. We do not know the sequel, unless it is to be found in thenbsp;Hebrew traditions.

The fact, however, must not be overlooked that, though Palestine had been so long under Egyptian rule, Hebrew literature retains nonbsp;remembrance of it. Apart from the story of the invasion, which will benbsp;noticed below, Hebrew tradition would seem not to reach back beyondnbsp;the twelfth century.

discussed in the previous chapters. But in addition to these there is a great body of literature, the Hexateuch, which is of essentiallynbsp;antiquarian interest, comparable with the Indian Pur�nas.

In the classification of the material we shall follow the scheme adopted in Vol. i (p. 270 if.). It may be observed that illustrations ofnbsp;Sections I�III are frequently to be found in the records already discussed,nbsp;whereas in IV-VII the material is derived almost wholly from thenbsp;Hexateuch. Something therefore will have to be said by way of introduction to the latter. But first we will take the evidence for I�III.

Judg. i. 27 ff. we find a list of cities which were not depopulated by the Israelites. The Hexateuch again contains much catalogue matter. Thusnbsp;Josh, xii gives a long list of the kings overthrown by the Israelites,nbsp;while the following nine chapters are largely occupied with geographicalnbsp;catalogues, enumerating the places allotted to the various tribes.

III. Explanations of names, especially place-names, are also quite frequent. In I Sam. vii. 12 it is stated that, after a victory of the Israelites,nbsp;�Samuel took a stone, and set it between Mizpah and Shen, and callednbsp;the name of it Ebm-e^er (�the stone of help�), saying, �Hitherto hathnbsp;Jehovah helped us�.� Yet according to iv. i ff. a defeat had previouslynbsp;taken place at the same spot. We may compare II Sam. xviii. 18, wherenbsp;it is stated that Absalom reared up for himself a pillar in a certain place,nbsp;to keep his name in remembrance�� and it is called Absalom�s monument unto this day�. Again, in (z(J.) ii. 16 a place called Helkath-ha^^^rim (� the field of the sharp knives �) is said to have got its name fromnbsp;the encounter between the followers of Abner and Joab, in which all thenbsp;combatants were slain (cf. p. 675). Similar examples occur ib. v. 20,nbsp;vi. 8, and in I. xxiii. 28. A number are to be found also in the Book ofnbsp;Judges. Thus in ii. 4 f. it is stated that at a certain place the children ofnbsp;Israel �lifted up their voice, and wept. And they called the name of thatnbsp;place Bochim (�Weepers�)�. Again, according to xv. 17, the namenbsp;Ramath-lehi (�hill of the jaw-bone�) was given to the place wherenbsp;Samson smote a thousand Philistines. Similar instances occur in vi. 24,nbsp;XV. 19, xviii. 12. In the Hexateuch also examples are not rare. In Josh.nbsp;V. 9 the name Gilgal (�Rolling�) is explained as due to the fact that thenbsp;Israelites were circumcised, while they were encamped at this place,nbsp;because �Jehovah said unto Joshua, �This day have I rolled away thenbsp;reproach of Egypt from off you��. We may compare also vii. 26.

Some of these passages may of course preserve genuine traditions. Such is quite possibly the case with the pillar of Absalom, noticed innbsp;II Sam. xviii. 18. But the majority are doubtless products of speculation, like the European examples discussed in Vol. i, p. 283 ff. As a rulenbsp;they are probably due to a tendency to connect places with famousnbsp;persons or events; but occasionally the story itself may have beennbsp;influenced by a place-name. We know of no collections of place-names,nbsp;like those of early Ireland.

Explanations of personal names seem to be much less common. An instance occurs in I Sam. iv. 21, where the wife of Phinehas, whosenbsp;husband has just been killed in a great disaster, calls her newly bom

child Ichabod (�No glory�), �saying, �The glory is departed from Israel��. So also in Judg. vi. 32, when Gideon has broken down thenbsp;altar of Baal, his father calls him Jerubbaal (�Let Baal plead�), �saying,nbsp;�Let Baal plead against him, because he hath broken down his altar��.nbsp;In the latter case at least, if we were concerned with a European country,nbsp;we should suspect that the story had been invented to explain the name.nbsp;In countries like Iceland and Ireland, where surnames were much innbsp;use, one would not as a rule be inclined to attach much value to explanations of personal names, unless they were obvious. But with Hebrewnbsp;names the case may be different; we understand that Semitic scholarsnbsp;are inclined to attach more significance to names.^ It may be observednbsp;that names of the type we are considering (^Jerubbaa�) seem to be aliennbsp;to the Indo-European languages. Yet the explanation of the name Israelnbsp;given in Gen. xxxii. 28 is a clear case of antiquarian speculation. Andnbsp;the same may be said of the explanation of the name Moses in Ex. ii. 10.nbsp;In reality this name seems to be Egyptian, not Hebrew.

Note may also be made here of a curious practice of substituting one element for another in compound personal names. Thus in II Sam. xi. 21nbsp;the name Jerubbesheth is used for Jerubbaal; and the names of Saul�snbsp;son and grandson, Ishbosheth and Mephibosheth, are believed to havenbsp;been substituted for Ishbaal and Mephibaal.� The second element, whichnbsp;means �shame�, has taken the place of a divine name which had becomenbsp;hated. Such substitutions are not unknown in Europe; but they arenbsp;hardly due to the same principle. In Norse poetry they seem to benbsp;synonyms, e.g. �smo�r for porm��r,3 and due either to metrical considerations or to the cultivation of enigmatism. The Hebrew examples,nbsp;however, are perhaps to be ascribed to the pedantry of late scribes.

Traditions or speculations relating to the origin of customs, places, peoples, and the world itself belong almost wholly to the Hexateuch.nbsp;This is a collection of essentially antiquarian character. It is of highlynbsp;composite origin, as we have seen, and must have had a long history.nbsp;The chief component elements�J, E, D (Deuteronomy) and P�havenbsp;been noticed briefly on p. 630, above. The two latter are themselvesnbsp;� Cf. Cook, Camb. Anc. Hist. II. 393 ff.

� Mephibosheth is generally identified with Merib-baal in I Chron. viii. 34, ix. 40. But the first elements of these names must also be different.

3 The word ass (�god�) is often used for Thor in poetry. It may be noted here that names with heathen associations were not discarded after the introduction ofnbsp;Christianity. Thus in England names like Oswald and Aelfred, compounded with osnbsp;(�god�) and aelf (�elf�) were very popular.

690 believed to be composite; but they are too late to come within ournbsp;scope, though P may contain early elements. It is with J and E that wenbsp;are primarily concerned. From these are believed to be taken large partsnbsp;of Genesis, Exodus and Numbers, a little of Deuteronomy (towards thenbsp;end), and a considerable part of Joshua, though this last element isnbsp;thought to have been edited and expanded by a Deuteronomistnbsp;writer.

The contents of J and E are believed to have been very similar and to have covered much the same ground. It is commonly held that Jnbsp;belonged to Judah, and E to the northern kingdom. Different stratanbsp;can be distinguished, it is thought, in each of the two; but both arenbsp;supposed to have been based, to some extent at least, upon oral tradition.nbsp;Eventually they were combined, the result being a conflate text (JE),nbsp;drawn partly from one and partly from the other. This is thought to havenbsp;taken place most probably in the seventh century, but before thenbsp;introduction of Deuteronomic influence.

The subjects which are believed to have been included in each of the early texts, as well as in the conflate text derived from them, may benbsp;divided as follows:

It is to be borne in mind that large portions of the present text of all the Books mentioned here, except Deuteronomy, are believed to benbsp;derived from P�from which also comes the whole of Leviticus. P is

supposed to have contained a consecutive narrative, parallel to JE, from the beginning of Genesis to the end of Joshua.

The general likeness between the scheme outlined above and that of the Pur�nas (cf. p. 540) will be obvious enough. J and E may wellnbsp;have originated in variant forms of a Pur�na. P also may be describednbsp;as a Pur�na, but of a somewhat different kind from the others. In thenbsp;form in which it has been preserved it seems to have been a late andnbsp;sophisticated work; and the material has been very freely treated. Butnbsp;it incorporates a large body of priestly tradition, much of which maynbsp;have had a long history.

IV. Traditions or speculations relating to the origin of institutions, customs and ceremonies. A number of examples are to be found in thenbsp;parts of Exodus which are believed to come from JE. A good instancenbsp;occurs in xii. 21-7, which accounts for the origin of the feast of thenbsp;Passover, and is to be taken in connection with the slaying of thenbsp;first-born of the Egyptians, as stated ib. is) f. Soon after this (xiii. 3-10)nbsp;follows the institution of the feast of Unleavened Bread, which is tonbsp;commemorate the escape of the Israelites from Egypt. The explanationnbsp;is given in xii. 39: �They baked unleavened cakes of the dough whichnbsp;they brought forth out of Egypt, for it was not leavened; because theynbsp;were thrust out of Egypt, and could not tarry, neither had they preparednbsp;for themselves any victual�. In P (xii. 15) the institution of this feastnbsp;is connected with that of the Passover. Then, in xiii. 11-16, JE goes onnbsp;to prescribe the sacrifice or redemption of the first-born, which is explained by the story of the destruction of the Egyptian first-born.nbsp;Again, in xvi. 4 f., 25-30 the institution of the Sabbath is explained bynbsp;the story of the bread which fell from heaven for the use of the Israelitesnbsp;in the desert�a story which seems not to be completely preserved in JE.nbsp;In P, from which the rest of this chapter is said to come, the story is toldnbsp;more fully; but in this text the Sabbath is carried back to the Creationnbsp;(Gen. ii. 2 f.). Lastly, we may note the origin of the Law (xix ff.),nbsp;which is said to have been given to Moses on Mt Sinai. Apart from thisnbsp;last case, which is derived wholly from JE, antiquarian subjects of thisnbsp;kind are usually treated more fully in P. Thus in xxv�xxxi we find a verynbsp;long list of ritual regulations, which are said to be ordered at this time.nbsp;It may be observed that all the instances given above from JE are connected with supernatural occurrences. Note may also be taken of thenbsp;etymological element (xii. 23) in the explanation of the Passover.

cision, as described in v. 2 nbsp;nbsp;8 f. The passage speaks of the incident as a

repetition or revival of a custom which had fallen into abeyance; and this is explained by the intervening passage (i�. 4-7), which is believednbsp;to be a �Deuteronomic� addition. In point of fact there is an obscurenbsp;incidental notice of the rite in Ex. iv. 25 f., which is attributed to J. Anbsp;still earlier reference occurs in Gen. xxxiv. 14 if.; but the derivation ofnbsp;this passage is, we believe, disputed. In P the origin of the rite is tracednbsp;to Abraham (i�. xvii).

The latter part of the Book of Joshua is largely occupied with the distribution of the land of Canaan among the various tribes of Israel,nbsp;a subject to which we shall have to refer below. Two points, however,nbsp;may be noted here. Cap. xx describes the institution of six �cities ofnbsp;refuge��three to the east and three to the west of the Jordan�fornbsp;those who have been guilty of manslaughter, while cap. xxi gives a listnbsp;of forty-eight cities allocated to the Levites, a tribe which had no separatenbsp;district allotted to it in the distribution. But these chapters belong to P,nbsp;though the former is said to contain Deuteronomic elements ; and bothnbsp;are in accordance with the directions given in Num. xxxv, which likewise comes from P. It may be observed here that, especially in Numbers,nbsp;P has much to say regarding the privileges and duties of Levites, whereasnbsp;JE, as we have it, seldom refers to this tribe, though it mentions thatnbsp;Moses and Aaron belonged to it.' This is a striking difference betweennbsp;the two sources.

Apart from the Hexateuch, traditions or speculations relating to the origin of customs seem to be rare. An instance occurs in Judg. xi. 39 f.,nbsp;where there is a reference to a custom�not made clear�in which thenbsp;fate of Jephthah�s daughter was celebrated or bewailed by girls for fournbsp;days in every year. The context suggests that this rite took place on thenbsp;hills.

V. Traditions and speculations relating to ancient buildings, graves, sanctuaries, and localities in general. Several instances occur in the firstnbsp;part of Genesis (i-xi); but these chapters probably have a separatenbsp;history of their own. Elsewhere examples seem not to be frequent. Thenbsp;majority apparently relate to menhirs and (unchambered) cairns, whichnbsp;are said to have been set up or constructed in witness of agreements, ornbsp;in commemoration of remarkable events or experiences. Thus in Gen.

' The �Blessing of Moses�, which is supposed to come from JE, speaks of Levi at length (Deut, xxxiii. 8 ff.); but JE is thought to have derived this poem from anbsp;separate source.

xxxi. 45 ff. Jacob raises both a pillar-stone and a cairn, which he and Laban invoke as witness of their agreement. It is not made quite clearnbsp;whether these objects are familiar to the author, as in some of the casesnbsp;noted below. Such may perhaps be the case with the pillar which (i�.nbsp;xxviii. 18 f.) Jacob sets up at Bethel, in commemoration of his dream.nbsp;A variant of the same story occurs in xxxv. 14 f., while at the beginningnbsp;of this chapter he builds an altar at the same place. We do not knownbsp;whether this is the same sanctuary as the one where Abraham builds annbsp;altar (i�. xii. 8; xiii. 3 f.). It would seem from Josh. xvi. 2 that thenbsp;sanctuary lay outside the city of Beth-el (Luz), and that its name was innbsp;course of time transferred to the city (cf. Gen. xxviii. 19; xxxv. 6;nbsp;Judg. i. 22 IF.). According to Gen. xxviii. 22 the name Beth-el (�housenbsp;of God �) referred originally to the pillar-stone.^ An instance of the usenbsp;of a menhir as a grave-stone�apparently known to the author�occursnbsp;��. xxxv. 20, where Jacob sets one up at the grave of his wife Rachel:nbsp;�the same is the Pillar of Rachel�s grave unto this day�.

Similar examples are to be found in Joshua, Thus, according to xxiv. 26 f., Joshua �took a great stone, and set it up there under the oaknbsp;that was by (or �in�) the sanctuary of Jehovah. And Joshua said unto allnbsp;the people, �Behold, this stone shall be a witness against us��, etc. Thenbsp;scene here is Shechem; and the oak is presumably the one which is mentioned in the stories of Abraham and Jacob (Gen. xii. 6 f.; xxxv. 4).�nbsp;Here too we may refer to the twelve stones, in cap. iv, which are takennbsp;from the bed of the Jordan and set up at Gilgal, and replaced by twelvenbsp;other stones. Obviously these are not menhirs; but they serve a similarnbsp;purpose�they are to be �for a memorial unto the children of Israel fornbsp;ever�. Cairns are thrown up over the malefactor Achan (vii. 26) andnbsp;over the king of Ai (viii. 29). The use of the expression �unto this day�nbsp;in both these passages seems to imply that the cairns were known. Innbsp;xxii. 10, 26 ff., etc. an altar is built�again as a memorial or �witness�nbsp;�by the tribes of Reuben, Gad and Manasseh, when they return home;nbsp;but this passage perhaps comes from P. In viii. 30 ff. Joshua builds annbsp;altar of unhewn stones on Mt Ebal; and after sacrificing he writes on thenbsp;stones a copy of the law of Moses. This passage is said to be Deutero-nomic.

� The raising of menhirs for worship was specifically prohibited in later times (Lev. xxvi. I ; Deut. xvi. 22, etc.).

Cf. also Judg. ix. 6, where Abimelech is made king �by the oak of the pillar that was in Shechem�. The same locality is probably intended in Gen. xxxiii. 18 ff.,nbsp;where Jacob buys a piece of ground before the city and sets up an altar there.

The custom of setting up menhirs is recorded also in the Books of Samuel. Instances have already been given (p. 688). �Absalom�snbsp;monument� was evidently well known. It may be observed that anbsp;cairn is thrown up over the body of this prince (II Sam. xviii. 17).

Ancient graves are not very frequently referred to, except in connection with menhirs and cairns, as noted above. We may, however, mention the cave of Machpelah in the field of Ephron the Hittite, closenbsp;to Hebron, in which the patriarchs are buried (Gen. xlix. 30 f.). Thenbsp;purchase of this field by Abraham is described at length in cap. xxiii.nbsp;The references to this place might perhaps suggest that the locality wasnbsp;known; but apparently they all come from P. In xxxv. 8 Deborah,nbsp;Rebekah�s nurse is buried �below Beth-el under the oak�; we do notnbsp;know whether the sanctuary is meant. But in Josh. xxiv. 32 Joseph�snbsp;bones are buried at Shechem, in a spot which is evidently the sanctuarynbsp;founded by Jacob in Gen. xxxiii. 18 ff. (cf. p. 693 and note).

Sanctuaries have already been mentioned in connection with the pillar-stones set up at Bethel and Shechem. In Gen. xiii. 18 Abraham isnbsp;said to build an altar by the oaks of Mamre (in Hebron), where he dwelt;nbsp;and this also may indicate the foundation of a sanctuary. The same inference may perhaps be drawn from xxi. 33, where he plants a tamarisknbsp;tree at Beersheba. In xxvi. 23 ff. Isaac builds an altar and digs a well atnbsp;the same place. It is rather curious that there seems to be no account ofnbsp;the foundation of the sanctuary at Shiloh. In Joshua there are referencesnbsp;to a great assembly there; but only in P. But in the early chapters ofnbsp;I Samuel it seems to be the chief sanctuary of Israel, and possesses thenbsp;sacred Ark; and this seems to be the case also in Judg. xviii. 31. Annbsp;account�apparently not very sympathetic�of the origin of the sanctuary at Dan is given in the same chapter, and has already been noticed.nbsp;The foundation of Solomon�s temple need not be discussed here ; but itnbsp;may be noted that in II Chron. iii. i the temple is said to be built in thenbsp;threshing-floor of Oman (Araunah) the Jebusite�the place wherenbsp;David saw the angel. As in the case of other sanctuaries therefore,nbsp;especially Beth-el, the foundation is connected with a vision.

It is remarkable that references to the foundation of cities in Palestine seem to be extremely rare. In Josh. xix. 50 Joshua is said to have builtnbsp;the city of Timnath-serah; but the passage is thought to come, at least innbsp;part, from P, and the expression might refer to re-building, as in I Kingsnbsp;xii. 25. In general the Israelites are clearly represented as appropriatingnbsp;the cities of the natives, built before the invasion, while their ancestors,nbsp;the patriarchs, seem to live outside the cities.

VI. Traditions and speculations relating to the origin of nations. The Israelites devoted very great attention to the study of the origin of theirnbsp;nation, with which the national religion�the cult of Jehovah�wasnbsp;closely bound up. Practically the whole of the Hexateuch is concernednbsp;with these subjects. To repeat briefly what was said on p. 690, Genesisnbsp;is occupied with the stories of the patriarchs, ending with the settlementnbsp;of Jacob (Israel) and his sons in Egypt; Exodus and Numbers withnbsp;the escape of the Israelites (Jacob�s descendants) from Egypt and theirnbsp;wanderings in the desert; Joshua with the conquest of Canaan by them.nbsp;Incidentally some attention is given, in Genesis, to the origin of thenbsp;kindred nations.

Genesis differs greatly in character from the following books. The interest is centred in individuals, including women, who sometimesnbsp;receive almost as much attention as the men. The narrative has perhapsnbsp;more resemblance to the Mabinogion than to any other works we havenbsp;discussed, with religion here taking the place of the magic whichnbsp;dominates the latter. The life which is portrayed is of a simple kind, notnbsp;far removed from nomadism. The patriarchs are shepherds, and havenbsp;distant pasturages; and they shift their abodes from time to time, thoughnbsp;it is not clear whether this takes place periodically or only after the lapsenbsp;of years.

But there is also a very large aetiological (eponymic) element in the stories. Jacob�s sons and grandsons bear names which later are those ofnbsp;the tribes of Israel. Jacob himself is also called Israel, while his brothernbsp;Esau is also called Edom. They have an uncle called Ishmael and other,nbsp;more distant, relatives who are eponymoi of peoples. Among these wenbsp;need only mention Moab and Ben-ammi, the sons of Lot, the latter ofnbsp;whom is said to be the father of the children of Ammon (xix. 38). It isnbsp;clear then that we have the relationship of a number of tribes or peoplesnbsp;expressed in the form of a genealogy. It is true that elsewhere we donbsp;find kingdoms and dynasties (with their subjects) which bear the namesnbsp;of historical founders�in other words we find eponymoi who are, atnbsp;least in all probability, historical persons. For instances we may refer tonbsp;Vol. I, p. 311. But in this case the eponymoi are far too numerous tonbsp;allow of any such explanation; the evidence points to a carefully constructed scheme. The story of Jacob and his sons is of a very similarnbsp;character to that of Yay�ti and his sons, discussed on p. 498 f. The partnbsp;played by Joseph may be compared with the part played by P�ru. Thenbsp;incidents of course have nothing in common; but each of the two is thenbsp;ancestor of what was at one time the dominant people.

Eponymity, however, will hardly explain everything in this series of stories, any more than in India and elsewhere. It is not at all clear thatnbsp;the chief characters are eponymoi. In the cases of Abraham and Isaacnbsp;there is no evidence for this explanation, so far as we are aware; in thosenbsp;of Jacob and Joseph it seems to be at least far from certain. So far as thenbsp;Hebrew evidence goes,^ the real eponymoi are Joseph�s sons, rather thannbsp;Joseph himself, while the identification of Jacob with the eponymosnbsp;Israel may be secondary. It is quite possible then that the stories containnbsp;elements of genuine tradition, independent of the aetiological speculation. The latter may have been introduced into an existing saga, or thenbsp;saga into the aetiological scheme. But, if so, what was the origin of thenbsp;saga.^ The stories have much to say about the political conditions ofnbsp;Palestine. We find kings in various places. Hittites are settled in thenbsp;land, even in the extreme south. Abraham and Isaac visit the Philistinesnbsp;in Gerar. On the other hand, though we hear frequently of Egypt andnbsp;the Egyptians, there is no trace of Egyptian government in Palestine.nbsp;It would seem then either that the stories were of an imaginative character from the beginning or that they have undergone a considerablenbsp;amount of modification in the course of time.�

Whatever may be thought as to the origin of the stories, there can be no doubt of the truth of the second proposition. This is shown by thenbsp;numerous variant versions of incidents which the stories contain.3 Itnbsp;may be noted that in one account (cap. xx) of the visit to Gerar Philistines are not mentioned; but this is a matter of detail. What we wouldnbsp;emphasise is that Egyptian government in Palestine had come to an

� Place-names which can be read as Jacob-el and Joseph-el occur in inscriptions of Thothmes III (early fifteenth century); and the former at least is clearly located innbsp;Palestine. Corresponding forms �Ya kub�lu^ Yasupili) and also Jacob itself {Yakubu)nbsp;are said to occur as personal names in Babylonian contract deeds of cent. xx. Somenbsp;scholars take Jacob (Ya'aqob'} to be an abbreviation of Jacob-el. Unfortunately thenbsp;interpretation of the Egyptian evidence seems to be still uncertain. Can one infernbsp;that there were men (or gods.^) called Jacob and Joseph in Palestine in cent, xv.^nbsp;The Babylonian evidence seems to render the supposition that they were godsnbsp;somewhat unlikely.

� It may be noted that if the Mabinogion�^we mean of course the � Four Branches � �contain any historical element, the characters must have lived during the Romannbsp;period, or at least very soon afterwards. Yet they preserve no remembrance of thenbsp;Romans or of Roman civilisation.

3 Apart from the question of variants, there are certain passages which rather suggest that the patriarchs had once been represented as persons of a somewhatnbsp;different and more warlike character. The most striking case is Gen. xlviii. 22, whichnbsp;almost approximates to the heroic. We might also refer to cap. xiv; but this is bestnbsp;left to specialists.

697 end by 1150, while the Philistines had arrived half a century or morenbsp;before this time. We have an interval therefore of something like fournbsp;centuries between these events and the time when the stories werenbsp;committed to writing; and this allows ample time for previous conditions to be forgotten. Yet in spite of this the stories in general preservenbsp;very archaic features. Recent archaeological and topographical investi- ,nbsp;g�tions have made it clear that the conditions which they reflect are notnbsp;those of the period in which they were written down, but of very muchnbsp;earlier times.* Some recent writers indeed hold that they contain anbsp;considerable historical element; and it is at least unsafe to assume thenbsp;contrary. But the question which more directly concerns us is thenbsp;antiquity of the sagas; there seems to be no reason to doubt that thenbsp;general lines of these go back to very early times. To this question wenbsp;shall have to return shortly.

In striking contrast with Genesis the other Books show very little interest in persons; and even this is almost confined to the first halfnbsp;of Exodus. It is only here that we hear of Moses� wife and children.nbsp;After this his sister Miriam is mentioned in three passages, and hisnbsp;brother Aaron frequently, but almost always in connection withnbsp;religious observances and disputes. Otherwise there is practicallynbsp;nothing of a personal nature ; and hardly any woman is mentioned bynbsp;name. The case of Joshua is still more striking. We are not even toldnbsp;whether he had a wife or family; and we know nothing of his personality. Yet according to the story his importance in the history of thenbsp;nation can hardly be regarded as less even than that of Moses.

The interest is concentrated almost wholly upon the fortunes of the nation and upon the national religion which is essentially bound upnbsp;therewith. Much attention is given to the origin of institutions, as wenbsp;have seen. To a modern reader these features are no doubt emphasisednbsp;by the very long portions of these Books which are drawn from P, andnbsp;which have practically no other interest. But the text of JE seems tonbsp;have had the same impersonal character, if not quite to the same degree.

For this story also Western analogies are not wanting; but those which we know are only partial, and not preserved in early form.nbsp;Parallels for the migration are to be found in the (Latin) accounts of thenbsp;early history of the Goths and the Lombards (cited in Vol. i, p. 306),nbsp;which are doubtless derived from native sources. We may also refer tonbsp;the �Return of the Heracleidai�. For the law-giving and the origin of

� This has been well pointed out by Albright, Archaeology of Palestine, etc. p, 130 ff.

698 institutions we may compare the stories of Numa Pompilius and Lycur-gos. But the best analogy is probably to be found in the traditions of thenbsp;(non-Teutonic) Prussians, whose religious and social institutions werenbsp;believed to have been revealed to the legendary law-giver Bruteno bynbsp;the thunder-god Perkuno? This is said to have taken place in the sacrednbsp;oak, which was their chief sanctuary.

The story of the Exodus has given rise to an immense amount of discussion, into which it is of course impossible for us to enter. It must suffice to note that the features upon which attention seems to have beennbsp;chiefly concentrated are the numbers involved in the migration,^ thenbsp;route followed by it, and especially the date at which it took place. Wenbsp;may observe also that, except for the inroads of the Habiru (cf. p. 686),nbsp;external evidence seems to be wanting,^ though the history of Egypt innbsp;the fourteenth and thirteenth centuries is well known, while fornbsp;Palestine there is a large amount of evidence available for the first halfnbsp;of the fourteenth century and a certain amount for the thirteenth.nbsp;Lastly, it has been remarked that much of what is said in Genesis,nbsp;especially perhaps with regard to sanctuaries, seems difficult to reconcilenbsp;with a long separation between the land and the people. Against allnbsp;this it has to be borne in mind that a knowledge of the story seems to benbsp;implied everywhere in early Hebrew literature, except perhaps in the storynbsp;of David. Indeed there can be no reasonable doubt that it was generallynbsp;believed, at least from the beginning of the eighth century.

We understand that at present the tendency is to the view that only a. portion of the Israelites, perhaps only a few of the tribes, made theirnbsp;way to Egypt, and subsequently took part in the Exodus, while the restnbsp;had remained in Palestine all the time. Many scholars identify Joshua�snbsp;invasion of Canaan with the inroads of the Habiru, and consequentlynbsp;date this event in the first half of the fourteenth century, while others still

� The fullest authority is Simon Grunau, Preussische Chronik, especially Tract. III. i. 2.

� The extravagant figures given in Numb, i and xxvi come from P. As to their origin an interesting suggestion is made by Albright, Archaeology of Palestine, etc.nbsp;p. 158, viz. that they are derived from records of David�s census. We are scepticalnbsp;as to the preservation of any large figures by saga. In Ex. xii. 40 f. (P) the childrennbsp;of Israel are said to have sojourned 430 years in Egypt; but in Numb. xxvi. 59nbsp;(also P) Moses� mother is a daughter of Levi, while his father is frequently said tonbsp;be Levi�s grandson. This would indicate a period of less than a century for thenbsp;sojourn.

3 But there is now much archaeological evidence for the destruction of cities in cent, xiv and xiii.

prefer a date in the reign of Raineses II, about a century later? Others again are inclined to connect the Exodus with bodies of foreign labourersnbsp;called Aperu, who were employed in Egypt, especially in the time ofnbsp;Rameses III, nearly a century later still. This suggestion would accountnbsp;for the forced labour described in the story; but the escape of such anbsp;body would by itself hardly be sufficient to produce the effects recordednbsp;in the story. Moreover we are not aware that there is any widespreadnbsp;evidence for wholesale destructions in the twelfth century, as there is innbsp;the earlier periods. Lastly, the possibility may be borne in mind that�nbsp;both in this story and in those of the patriarchs�the name �Egypt� maynbsp;be due to some misunderstanding. The story of the escape from Egyptnbsp;might originally have been that of a rising against the Egyptian government in Palestine itself, and have changed its character in course of time,nbsp;when the memory of Egyptian rule in Palestine had faded away. Fewnbsp;scholars would be willing to regard this as a satisfactory explanation ofnbsp;the story as a whole; but account must be taken of the possibility that itnbsp;may contain elements of diverse origin, and such a misunderstanding isnbsp;a factor which should not be overlooked.

In recent years great progress has been made with the excavation of cities said to have been destroyed by Joshua; but the date of the conquestnbsp;is not yet agreed upon. It has been ascertained that three of these citiesnbsp;�Jericho, Ai and Razor��were destroyed about the same time. Asnbsp;regards the actual date of the destruction there has been some differencenbsp;of opinion, some archaeologists attributing it to c. 1400, others tonbsp;c. 1500; but the most recent evidence from Jericho seems to be decisivenbsp;in favour of the former date, or even a little later.3 This would seem tonbsp;support the connection of the Israelite conquest with the movements ofnbsp;the Habiru, though the excavators themselves do not agree to thisnbsp;connection.�* On the other hand the evidence from two other sites,

� The chief argument for this date is the reference to the store-cities, Pithom and Raamses in Ex. i. ii. Pithom seems to have been founded by Rameses II. But thenbsp;passage may be an addition to the story, like many passages in the story of Joseph,nbsp;which is believed to have been much edited by someone well acquainted with Egyptnbsp;in the seventh century, or not much earlier. The reference to the destruction ofnbsp;Israel in Merneptah�s inscription proves only that the Israelites were in Palestine bynbsp;his time (c. 1223).

3 Scarabs of Amenhotep III (1411�1375) were found in the tombs. Very recently also some pottery perhaps later than 1400 has been found; cf. Marston, The Bible isnbsp;True, p. 166.

�gt; Cf. Garstang, o/gt;. cit. p. 255 ff. The grounds on which this connection is denied are not quite clear to us; cf. Marston, o/gt;. cit. p. 232 f.

which are in all probability to be identified with Lachish and Debit (Kiriath-sepher)�two cities likewise said to have been taken by Joshuanbsp;�points to destruction about the middle of the thirteenth century, innbsp;the reign of Rameses II. This evidence in favour of the later date isnbsp;supported by excavations and observations made in Edom,^ whichnbsp;seem to show that that country had been unoccupied for some centuriesnbsp;before the time of Rameses IL In the fourteenth century the Israelitesnbsp;could not have been refused permission to pass through the country;nbsp;there was no one to refuse it. But this objection affects only a detail ofnbsp;the story.

So far as evidence is available at present, it would seem that there were two periods of destruction in Palestine�separated from onenbsp;another by an interval during which the Egyptian authority was maintained. The destruction of Jericho belongs to the earlier period; but innbsp;spite of the remoteness of the date Hebrew saga seems to have preservednbsp;a memory of the event. Whether Moses also belonged to the earliernbsp;period is a question which must be left for further investigation. It isnbsp;possible that the saga has confused two separate movements. Thenbsp;Israelites, or at least part of them, apparently entered the country�nbsp;presumably as semi-nomads�during the earlier period.^ The laternbsp;movement may have been in the nature of a rising, under religious influence, though perhaps supported by an influx of Bedouins. And anbsp;similar rising may have taken place still later, when the Egyptiansnbsp;finally evacuated the country.

The question, however, which primarily concerns us is the history of the story and its relationship to the story of the patriarchs. For bothnbsp;stories the literary sources are believed to be the same; both of them seemnbsp;to have been included in both J and E, and in the composite JE derivednbsp;from these, as well as in P�one story serving as the sequel of the other,nbsp;just as in our present text. Moreover both of them are clearly of antiquarian interest and of non-heroic provenance. Yet, as we have seen,nbsp;the differences of character between them are so marked that they can

� Cf. Glueck, Illustrated London News, 7 July 1934, p- 26, where it is noted that copper-mining on a considerable scale seems to have heen carried on in the districtnbsp;from cent, xiii onwards.

� The name Israel itself has not yet been found before the time of Merneptah (c. 1223); but there are references to Asher, apparently in the territories assignednbsp;to it in Joshua, during the reign of Seri I�towards the close of cent. xiv. We understand also that a reference to Zebulon has been found very recently in the Rasnbsp;Shamra tablets (cf. Marston, op. cit. pp. 177, 208 f.), though we are not clear as tonbsp;the exact date. References to Simeon have also been suggested.

hardly have had the same history. The � Hexateuch � of J and E�apart from the actual texts�would seem to have been a work of compositenbsp;origin.

It is commonly thought that E belonged to the northern kingdom, J to Judah; and this may be correct for the written texts. But the differences between the two seem to have been so slight in substance thatnbsp;it is impossible to believe the stories themselves to have originatednbsp;independently in the two kingdoms. One text must have been derivednbsp;from the other�probably in unwritten form, though this is a questionnbsp;for experts to decide. J is thought by most scholars, we believe, to havenbsp;been the earlier and more archaic of the two ; but this of course does notnbsp;prove that the work originated in the south. The story of the patriarchsnbsp;clearly indicates an interest centred in Joseph; and in a story which sonbsp;constantly has its outlook fixed upon the future this must mean that itsnbsp;origin is to be sought in one of the tribes which claimed descent fromnbsp;him, presumably Ephraim.� If the story had originated in Judah, thenbsp;eponymos of this tribe would surely have had something more put tonbsp;his credit than the incidents related in Gen. xxxviii.

For the original provenance of the story of the Exodus and the conquest of Palestine the evidence is not quite so clear. Moses and Aaron are said to belong to the tribe of Levi, while Joshua�s origin is apparentlynbsp;not stated, except in P, where he is said to belong to Ephraim. But innbsp;Josh. xxiv. 29 ff. both Joshua and Eleazar, the son of Aaron, are buriednbsp;in Ephraim, and it is added that Joshua and Phinehas, son of Eleazar,nbsp;had their homes there. It may also be noted that in the ancient poemnbsp;called �The Blessing of Moses� (Deut, xxxiii), which is believed to havenbsp;been incorporated in JE, Levi and �Joseph�^ receive far more attentionnbsp;than any of the other tribes. And in this connection we may observenbsp;that in the opening chapters of I Samuel the sacred Ark is kept at Shilohnbsp;in Ephraim, under the charge of a family of priests who seem to benbsp;descended from Aaron or Moses.3 The evidence, therefore, thoughnbsp;slight, points to the northern origin of this story, as well as the other.nbsp;We know of no evidence to the contrary. It would seem then that thenbsp;whole of the original � Hexateuch � was, in substance, of northern origin.

� This is indicated only by one passage (Gen. xlviii. 13 IF.); but we know of no evidence to suggest a rival claim for Manasseh,

� Both Ephraim and Manasseh are mentioned (xxxiii. 17); but the former is evidently regarded as the more important.

3 According to I Chron. xxiv they were descended from Ithamar (not Eleazar), son of Aaron.

J may perhaps represent a �text� or form of the stories which came to the south in early times�presumably before they were committednbsp;to writing.

There can be little doubt that a large proportion of P is of southern origin. It has much to say (e.g.) about the privileges and duties ofnbsp;Levites, who in later times seem to have been chiefly congregated innbsp;Judah. But all such passages are presumably accretions. There does notnbsp;seem to be any ground for supposing that the main narrative of P wasnbsp;derived from a source essentially different from JE.

The differences then between the two stories�the story of the patriarchs and that of the Exodus and the conquest of Palestine�cannbsp;hardly be due to derivation from different regions. But they may benbsp;due to derivation from different tribes. The evidence for the former,nbsp;as we have seen, points definitely to �Joseph�, and more particularlynbsp;to Ephraim. The evidence for the latter, so far as it goes, points bothnbsp;to Ephraim and Levi, but more definitely to Levi than to Ephraim.nbsp;It is true that most of the references to Levi in Exodus and Numbersnbsp;come from P ; but Moses and Aaron are Levites even in JE, and in onenbsp;passage (Ex. xxxii. 26 ff.)�-apart from the � Blessing of Moses ��thisnbsp;tribe is specially commended for its fierce religious zeal. Now Levi wasnbsp;a tribe of religious character and without a territory of its own. In earlynbsp;times its chief sanctuary is said to have been within the territory ofnbsp;Ephraim. Such a derivation seems to provide an adequate explanation ofnbsp;the chief difference between the two stories. The interest in the laternbsp;story lies not in persons, as in the earlier, but in an organisation; andnbsp;that is what might be expected in a national sanctuary, like Shiloh. Itnbsp;will also serve to explain another noteworthy difference namely innbsp;regard to the treatment of the natives of the land. The ferocious treatment described and approved in the Book of Joshua is characteristic ofnbsp;religious warfare�the �holy war�. On the other hand the relations ofnbsp;the patriarchs with the natives are more or less friendly. The only realnbsp;outbreak of ferocity is the conduct of Simeon and Levi at Shechemnbsp;(Gen. xxxiv); and this is condemned by Jacob both here and in thenbsp;� Blessing of Jacob � (z�A xlix, 5 ff.). It may be observed that this is thenbsp;only incident in which Levi figures individually, and that the attitudenbsp;towards him is far from favourable.

The derivation of the earlier story from Ephraim and of the later story from a sanctuary of Levi within the same district would seem tonbsp;give a reasonable explanation of the differences between the two. It isnbsp;natural enough that the sanctuary should use the story of the land as annbsp;introduction to the story of its own origin. The earlier story is pre-

�sumably incomplete. It may have gone on to narrate the fortunes of the various tribal eponymoi, as in the case of Judah (Gen. xxxviii). At allnbsp;events the story of Ephraim himself can hardly have been neglected;nbsp;and though this is lost, a trace of its existence may perhaps be preservednbsp;in I Chron. vii. 20 ff., in a series of genealogies, which seem to preservenbsp;traces of other such stories. In this passage Ephraim is described as bewailing the death of his sons, who have been slain by the men of Gath�nbsp;not in holy war but in a cattle-raid. It is to be noted that Ephraim isnbsp;here regarded as living in the uplands of Palestine, presumably the landnbsp;�of Ephraim. A story at variance with that of the Exodus is thereforenbsp;implied; either Joseph himself or at least his son had returned fromnbsp;Egypt. Similar inferences may be drawn from other genealogies. Thusnbsp;in the genealogy of Manasseh (j.b. vii. 14 ff. and elsewhere) we meetnbsp;with names of districts or communities, such as Machir, Gilead, Abiezer.nbsp;These names, whether they be derived from tradition or from speculation, are presumably those of persons to whom the title of possessionnbsp;was traced. The story of the patriarchs may originally have served as annbsp;introduction to the traditions of the various tribes, for which in thenbsp;Hexateuch, as we have it, the distribution described in Josh, xiii ff. hasnbsp;been substituted.

We have yet to discuss the antiquity of the stories. It is clear that both the story of the patriarchs and that of the Exodus were known tonbsp;Amos and Hosea, the earliest of the prophets whose works have beennbsp;preserved.* References are not so numerous or detailed that they can benbsp;proved to have known them in the form attributed to JE; but they werenbsp;familiar at least with a number of the chief incidents. The stories thennbsp;were in existence early in the eighth century. But they are probablynbsp;much older. We cannot believe that anything so antipathetic and aliennbsp;to modern feelings as the story of Moses can have originated in Israel sonbsp;late as the eighth or ninth centuries. In its main lines this story is bynbsp;no means incredible. Analogies are to be found in northern and easternnbsp;Africa, in regions fringing the desert, down to our own times. A holynbsp;man receives a revelation in the desert, and rouses the nomadic or semi-nomadic peoples around him to holy war against the settled inhabitantsnbsp;of a neighbouring country. But we cannot think that such a story wasnbsp;calculated to make much appeal to a nation which consisted in the mainnbsp;of agriculturists, merchants and townspeople. It may well have been

' These prophets do not mention Abraham ; the first reference to him seems to be Is. xxix. 22. But evidence for the antiquity of his story may be found in Shishak�snbsp;inscription (c. 930-925), which records a �Field of Abraham�, apparently in thenbsp;south of Judah, among the places captured by the Egyptians.

accepted by them as a tradition coming down from the far past, under^ the sanction of a religious organisation ; but, we think, not otherwise.

Apart from this general consideration both stories show plenty of features which are inconsistent with an eighth or ninth century origin.nbsp;They must surely date from a time when the tribes were still of importance; and that does not seem to have been the case in the laternbsp;history of the kingdoms. In the Books of Kings the tribes are seldomnbsp;mentioned. It is stated that the founder of the first northern dynastynbsp;belonged to Ephraim, and the founder of the second to Issachar; butnbsp;after this time�the early years of the ninth century�the tribes to whichnbsp;the dynasties belonged are not recorded. In I. iv. 7 ff. Israel is said tonbsp;have been divided in Solomon�s time into twelve fiscal districts, eachnbsp;under a special officer; but apparently only four of these districtsnbsp;correspond to tribes, though five tribes are mentioned. It is true thatnbsp;the prophet Ahijah promises to Jeroboam �ib. xi. 29 ff.) ten of the twelvenbsp;tribes ; but the ten are not specified, and it is not easy to see how so manynbsp;can have been included in the northern kingdom.^ The most likelynbsp;explanation is that the passage dates from a time when some of thenbsp;tribes had already disappeared as political units. On the whole then thenbsp;evidence suggests that the tribal system had begun to lose its vitalitynbsp;soon after the establishment of the kingship.

There can be no doubt as to the antiquity of the system. In the � Song of Deborah� (Judg. v. 14 ff.) eight of the tribes are named, while anbsp;ninth (Manasseh) is represented by Machir and Gilead. Those which arenbsp;not named, Judah, Simeon, Gad, are among the most distant from thenbsp;action. But the question which concerns us is the antiquity of the story;nbsp;and in this connection there are two features which deserve notice.

In the first place the tribes are constantly said to be twelve in number. So also are the sons of Jacob, their ancestors; but the two sets do notnbsp;exactly coincide. In place of the two brothers (half-brothers) Levi andnbsp;Joseph we find two tribes claiming descent from sons of Joseph; Levi isnbsp;not counted among the twelve, presumably because as a religious tribenbsp;it has no territory of its own. Yet it may be remarked that the referencesnbsp;to Levi in Genesis do not attribute a religious character to him; indeednbsp;they practically preclude such an idea. In both cases (xxxiv. 25 ff.;nbsp;xlix. 5 ff.) he is coupled with Simeon; and both of them are severelynbsp;censured. In the �Blessing of Jacob� they are cursed (xlix. 7), and it isnbsp;stated that they shall be divided and scattered in Israel. Both these

* The arithmetic of the passage is at fault; but this may be due to an interpolation. According to xii. 14 Benjamin followed Judah; and it would seem that Judah hadnbsp;absorbed the territory of Simeon and probably the old territory of Dan.

passages seem to point to a tradition that Levi had been a tribe similar to the others, while the latter suggests that both it and Simeon had metnbsp;with disaster and been expelled from their homes. Simeon appears tonbsp;have been absorbed eventually by Judah; but the reference to Shechemnbsp;in cap. xxxiv may indicate the lands of�Joseph� as those from which thenbsp;two tribes had been expelled. A trace of their former occupation maynbsp;possibly be preserved in the possession of the sanctuary at Shiloh by anbsp;Levitical family. But all this is uncertain.

The second feature worth noting is the curious distribution of Jacob�s family in Gen. xxix f. He has six sons by his first wife, two by his secondnbsp;and favourite wife, and two by each wife�s maid. It is to be presumednbsp;that this arrangement reflects some kind of relationship among thenbsp;tribes; but the nature of this is far from clear. It can hardly be geographical; for sons of the same mother, e.g. Gad and Asher, are widelynbsp;separated. Possibly it may be chronological�indicating the growth ofnbsp;a confederation radiating out from some centre, such as Shechem. Thenbsp;illegitimate sons would then represent tribes recently or incompletelynbsp;affiliated. But all this again is uncertain. What we would emphasise isnbsp;that the stories contain elements which seem to be ancient and are not tonbsp;be explained by any circumstances or conditions known to us.

The two antiquarian poems to which we have referred above are generally regarded as among the earliest remains of Hebrew literature.nbsp;The �Blessing of Moses� (Deut, xxxiii) seems clearly to be of northernnbsp;origin (cf. p. 701). The honours here are divided between Levi andnbsp;Joseph (Ephraim). Little is made of Judah; Simeon has disappearednbsp;altogether. On the other hand, in the � Blessing of Jacob� (Gen. xlix) thenbsp;honours are divided between Judah and Joseph; Simeon and Levi arenbsp;cursed. Here again the balance of evidence points to the north; thenbsp;honour paid to Judah may reflect the conditions of the undivided kingdom, under David or Solomon.^ But the two poems are obviously ofnbsp;different provenance; the one points to a Levitical, the other to a non-Levitical origin�perhaps in a sanctuary or community of prophets,nbsp;such as at Bethel.� We understand that the latter is commonly believed

* Additions may of course have been made to these poems from time to time; but in view of the very striking contrasts which they have preserved we think it safernbsp;to speak only of the texts as they stand.

� We know of no good evidence that Bethel was ever a Levitical sanctuary. Such passages as I Kings xii. 31 seem to imply that the Levites claimed exclusive right tonbsp;the priesthood anywhere. But was this claim made and admitted in early times.�nbsp;From Judg. xvii. 9 if. it may be inferred that the presence of a Levite as professionalnbsp;priest was desirable, but hardly that it was essential.

to be the older of the two. But it is to be observed that the opening of the �Blessing of Moses� agrees substantially with a passage in the �Song ofnbsp;Deborah� (Judg. v. 4 f.). Moses is not mentioned here; but there is anbsp;reference to a revelation at Sinai. Apparently too there is a movementnbsp;from the south (Edom), as in the �Blessing of Moses�, but contrary tonbsp;the account given in the prose story. It would seem then that, if wenbsp;may take the passage as it stands, certain elements in the story of thenbsp;Exodus may be traced back to a very early date, hardly later than thenbsp;beginning of the eleventh century. And, though it is unsafe to lay muchnbsp;stress upon the exact interpretation of a single obscure passage,^ it isnbsp;clear at all events that the representation of the deity has something innbsp;common with the story, and more especially with the �Blessing ofnbsp;Moses�. According to any interpretation he comes from beyond thenbsp;southern border of Israel.

It would not be easy to show that either of the � Blessings � dates from before the establishment of the kingdom, at least in anything like itsnbsp;present form. But the stories which they represent are doubtless muchnbsp;older than the poems themselves. The absence of any implication ofnbsp;kingship, and in particular the absence of any special honour paid tonbsp;Judah or Benjamin, in either story must mean, we think, that the mainnbsp;lines of both were fixed before the times of Saul and David, though theynbsp;may not have been current everywhere. Again, the story of Moses isnbsp;connected with a type of sanctuary which belongs properly to nomads.nbsp;The �Tent of Jehovah� appears not only in early passages in Numbers,nbsp;but also in the account of Solomon�s accession, at the conclusion of thenbsp;story of David (I Kings i. 39, ii. 28 f. ; cf. II Sam. vi. 17).� This seems tonbsp;imply a knowledge of the story that the nation or the national religionnbsp;had come from the desert. On the other hand, the story of the patriarchsnbsp;is connected with a different type of sanctuary, in which the chiefnbsp;feature is a menhir, usually set up beneath an oak. This type is not necessarily incompatible with the desert origin of the Israelites; but it givesnbsp;no support to the idea that their national religion was imported from thenbsp;desert as a corporate organisation. It was regarded with deep aversionnbsp;by the prophets of later times. But its antiquity is guaranteed not only

� Many scholars regard the reference to Sinai as an interpolation, and interpret the passage to mean that Jehovah comes from Edom specially to assist Israel in thenbsp;battle against Sisera.

� There are references (not early) to a temple at Shiloh in I Sam. i. 9, iii. 3. Against these may be set a (likewise late) passage (II Sam. vii. 6) where it is specificallynbsp;stated that Jehovah has not occupied a house since the departure from Egypt.

by various passages in Genesis, but also by the story of Abimelech (Judg. ix. 6; cf. p. 693, note).

There can be little doubt then that both these stories go back at least to the eleventh century, in some form or other. How far they representnbsp;genuine tradition, what historical facts lie behind them, how far theynbsp;are due to speculation�these are questions which we must leave tonbsp;experts. Our object is to note the antiquity and the variety of Hebrewnbsp;learning relating to the origin of the nation.

In conclusion we may observe that interest in antiquity was not limited to the origin of Israel itself. The origin of Edom, Moab, Ammonnbsp;and other kindred peoples, is accounted for in the story of the patriarchs,nbsp;as we have seen, while various other, more distant relationships arenbsp;noticed in the early chapters of Genesis. The prophets also are interestednbsp;in the origins of a number of foreign nations, as will be seen in the nextnbsp;chapter.

VII. Speculations upon the origin of mankind in general and of the world occupy the first eleven chapters of Genesis. A good deal of thisnbsp;section is believed to have been taken from P; but it may be doubtednbsp;how far P is here independent of J. The two documents are distinguishable by their phraseology. But they seem to have covered muchnbsp;the same ground, except in cap. i; and, so far as we can see, most ofnbsp;what comes from P may have been taken originally from J and re-cast.

Perhaps the only considerable passage from P which seems to have been independent is the account of the Creation in cap. i and ii. 1-4.nbsp;J appears to have had little to say upon this subject, except in relation tonbsp;mankind.

Taken as a whole, cap. i-xi�or perhaps we should rather say ii-xi� differ from the rest of Genesis and from all the following Books in thenbsp;fact that the matter with which they are occupied is mainly, if not wholly,nbsp;of foreign origin. Some of it is indeed widespread; we have already metnbsp;with it in Greece and India. But in those countries it has been naturalisednbsp;much more thoroughly than in Israel. In Genesis the original (Mesopotamian) associations of the stories are still preserved to a large extent,nbsp;both in place-names and in other respects. It is not likely therefore thatnbsp;their history in Palestine goes back anything like so far as that of thenbsp;native stories we have considered above. Indeed, there is apparentlynbsp;nothing to show that they belonged to the common (oral) source fromnbsp;which J and E were derived. They must have become known, however,nbsp;by the time of J, which is usually dated c. 800. It is apparently about the

middle of the ninth century, under Shalmaneser III, that Israel begins to figure in Assyrian records; and communication between Palestine andnbsp;Mesopotamia may well have become intensified about this time. Morenbsp;probably however they are derived from the Aramaeans of upper Mesopotamia, who may have acquired them much earlier. In Mesopotamianbsp;itself some of the stories were very ancient, and derived apparently fromnbsp;Sumerian records. But we must confess that we are not qualified to dealnbsp;with this evidence�either the historical records or the stories themselvesnbsp;�and therefore we shall not attempt to give more than a passing noticenbsp;of the latter.

The best known and most widespread of the stories is that of the Flood. What seems to be the fullest account^ of this is preserved in annbsp;Assyrian text of the story of Gilgamish, dating from the seventh century, where it is introduced as an episode, narrated to the hero. Thenbsp;narrator, Utnapishtim, is also the chief character in the episode, andnbsp;corresponds to Noah. The scene is laid at Shuruppak (Fara), aboutnbsp;sixty miles to the north-west of Ur and nearly a hundred to the southeast of Kish and Babylon. This account shares with the story of Noah anbsp;number of features which are either wanting, or at least not clear, in thenbsp;Greek and Indian stories.^ Thus the flood is sent by a god (Enlil),nbsp;apparently as a punishment for men�s sins.3 But other deities are not innbsp;sympathy with him; and it is another god (Ea) who warns Utnapishtimnbsp;to build the vessel. He takes his family on board, but also a number ofnbsp;other people (craftsmen), as well as animals and birds; the vessel is ofnbsp;enormous size. A specially close resemblance occurs in the incident ofnbsp;the birds�here they are three separate birds, a dove, a swallow and anbsp;raven�which Utnapishtim sends out to explore. The raven finds foodnbsp;and does not return.

In the account given by Berossos, a Babylonian priest who wrote in Greek in the third century (b.c.), Utnapishtim is called Xisuthros, andnbsp;in some Sumerian fragments, nearly two thousand years earlier, he isnbsp;called Zi�sudra�which seems to be the same name. Both by Berossosnbsp;and in Sumerian records Xisuthros or Zi�sudra is said to be the last of anbsp;series of ten kings who lived before the Flood. It is now generally believed that the story arose from one of the great floods which took place

� We know this story from R. Campbell Thornpson, The Epic of Gilgamish, p. 50 ff. An account of it and of other Babylonian records relating to the Flood willnbsp;be found in Langdon, Semitic Mythology, p. 203 ff.

in Mesopotamia in the fourth millennium�the effects of which have been brought to light by excavations at Ur, Kish, and elsewhere.nbsp;Possibly then Noah, Deucalion and Manu are all derived from a historicalnbsp;king.

In the Hebrew story Noah is immediately followed by the three ancestral brothers, who are his sons. In Greece they are Deucalion�snbsp;grandsons. In India the brothers are five in number and removed fromnbsp;Manu by several generations. We do not know whether any feature ofnbsp;this kind has been found in Mesopotamia in connection with the storynbsp;of the Flood. The closer resemblance between the Hebrew and the Greeknbsp;stories suggests the possibility of a nearer relationship between them.nbsp;Indeed, the latter may be derived from an early form of the Hebrew,nbsp;though a common source in North Syria is also possible.

The origin of the rest of the stories contained in Gen. ii-xi is less obvious. The story of Adam has been brought into connection withnbsp;various Mesopotamian stories; but the evidence is hardly convincing.nbsp;The story consists of two parts : (cap. ii) the creation of man, followednbsp;by that of animals and birds and, lastly, of woman; (cap. iii) the incidentnbsp;of the serpent and the �Fall�. The account of the creation itself is quitenbsp;brief; for nearly half the chapter is occupied with a description of thenbsp;Garden of Eden�which leads up to the incident related in cap. iii. It isnbsp;not clear that the connection between the two parts of the story isnbsp;essential or original, though it may have come to Palestine as a whole.nbsp;The expression � Garden of Eden� {gan ��den) means �garden of delight�;nbsp;but it is commonly thought, we understand, that the writing of thenbsp;second word has been influenced by popular etymology. The originalnbsp;form of the expression may have been gan �eden, the second part ofnbsp;which is a widespread name in Aramaean lands. We may instance thenbsp;�Sons of Eden�, a North Syrian people mentioned in II Kings xix. 12,nbsp;and the �House of Eden� {Beth- Eden) in Amos i. 5, which seems tonbsp;mean either the kingdom of Damascus or the Syrian peoples in general.nbsp;The Assyrian form of the latter name {Blt-Adini) is applied to an important Syrian kingdom on the upper Euphrates, in the neighbourhoodnbsp;of Carchemish, and also to a Chaldaean kingdom on the lower Euphrates,nbsp;south of Babylon. It would seem then that, if this etymology is correct,nbsp;the Garden of Eden was originally a legendary district or oasis which wasnbsp;regarded by one or more of these peoples as their ancestral home. Thenbsp;characterisation may have been influenced by the idea of a �Goldennbsp;Age�.

violation of a taboo connected with a tree, which may originally have been regarded as sacred. Apart from the name Eve {Hawaii}, whichnbsp;occurs only towards the end (iii. 20), it is a timeless nameless story, andnbsp;has much the appearance of an explanatory folktale. Indeed, it may wellnbsp;be derived from a folktale beginning with some such formula as � Therenbsp;was once a man who�, etc. Various elements of folklore may be traced;nbsp;but the chief object of the folktale was perhaps to account for thenbsp;enmity which exists between mankind and snakes. It was due to thenbsp;instigation of the latter that the Syrians of old lost their blissful abode.

The story of Cain and Abel is more obscure. It is not made clear why Cain�s sacrifice is not accepted ; and what follows is also difficult to understand. Above all, the special value attached to his life requires explanation.^ The story hardly looks like a folktale. Cain seems to be a propernbsp;name. According to one theory he is the eponymos of the Kenites�nbsp;which would point to Palestine, rather than Mesopotamia, as the homenbsp;of the story. But Hebrew learning itself assigned quite a different originnbsp;to the Kenites; they were regarded as belonging to the family of Hobabnbsp;(Jethro), i.e. as Midianites�who were themselves regarded as descendants of Abraham. Moreover, the Kenites seem to have been pastoralnbsp;nomads, not agriculturists. On the other hand, some scholars identifynbsp;the name Abel with Assyrian ablu, �brother��which again would seemnbsp;rather to point towards Mesopotamia. On the whole, then, it is at leastnbsp;not clear that the story of Cain is of a different origin from the rest ofnbsp;cap. ii-xi.

The other stories or references to stories which occur in these chapters relate to Mesopotamia, so far as they can be located. We maynbsp;instance the story of the Tower of Babel (xi. 2 ff.) and what is said ofnbsp;Nimrod (x. 8 ff.). Both these passages are instructive. It has often beennbsp;remarked that the former gives a picture of a great building as viewed bynbsp;nomads. In the latter it is not clear whether �Nimrod� means some kingnbsp;of the historical period, such as Shalmaneser I, who is said to havenbsp;founded Calah, or some legendary figure of the remote past. What seemsnbsp;clear is that this series of chapters (ii-xi) contains elements which in theirnbsp;origin were of different date and provenance, though they probably all

� In early European laws there is as a rule no vengeance or redress for homicide within the family or kindred, though the slayer often (not always) has to go intonbsp;exile. Examples from various Teutonic and Celtic peoples will be found in Seebohm,nbsp;Tribal Custom in Anglo-Saxon Law, pp. 30, 63,164, 176, 241 f. But we do not knownbsp;of any analogy for a sevenfold vengeance for a man who has been guilty of suchnbsp;a crime.

come from Mesopotamia. It may perhaps be described as an Aramaean collection, incorporating ancient stories, like that of the Flood, whichnbsp;were derived from the earlier peoples of that region.

As regards the date of the collection, if the name � Ur of the Chaldees� (JJr Kasdim} belonged to the tradition, we may ascribe it to the periodnbsp;between the eleventh and the ninth centuries; for the conquest of Ur bynbsp;the Chaldees seems not to have taken place much before i too. The name,nbsp;however, may have been introduced in later times. And in any case itnbsp;would seem to belong rather to the story of Abraham,^ which follows,nbsp;than to the preceding Mesopotamian elements. The latter have beennbsp;utilised to form an introduction to the former, which is doubtless oldernbsp;(in Palestine). But the process is difficult to trace, because large portionsnbsp;of cap. X f. are taken from P. Cap. x contains Palestinian, as well asnbsp;Aramaean learning. Possibly fresh discoveries at Ras Shamra or elsewhere may throw light on these questions. At present one can onlynbsp;say that the date suggested by the references to Ur of the Chaldeesnbsp;would seem not improbable on general grounds.

' This is a complicated question; for elsewhere the home of Abraham�s family is �Haran�. In xi. 31 P seems to have harmonised two discordant traditions. There isnbsp;an ambiguity also about the position of Haran. The northern Haran, which, like Ur,nbsp;had a famous lunar cult, was non-Semitic until c. 1350, when it was conquerednbsp;from Mitanni by the Assyrians; and it seems not to have become Aramaean beforenbsp;cent. xiii. The southern Haran (near Damascus) doubtless became Aramaean somewhat earlier. But these questions hardly affect the origin of cap. ii�xi, unless thenbsp;latter were bound up with the story of Abraham from the beginning.

JL theism. Virtually this renders anything in the nature of narrative impossible, except what is concerned with the dealings of the deity withnbsp;men. Neighbouring and kindred peoples, who were polytheistic, arenbsp;known to have cultivated poetry relating to the divine community; andnbsp;this poetry seems to have been partly narrative. Such is the case at allnbsp;events with the very ancient fragments of poetry^ found at Ras Shamranbsp;in northern Syria, dating from the fourteenth or thirteenth century. Thesenbsp;consist largely of speeches; but some of them contain also a good dealnbsp;of narrative. The poems would seem to have been, at least in part, of anbsp;didactic character. But we have not the knowledge necessary fornbsp;dealing with the subject.

In the Old Testament itself a considerable number of deities are mentioned; but they are regarded as belonging properly either to thenbsp;native peoples of the land or to external peoples. The national religionnbsp;of Israel recognises no deity except Jehovah. Traces of anything resembling polytheism, which can strictly be called Israelitish, seem to benbsp;rare and somewhat faint. Perhaps the most striking instance is the visionnbsp;of Micaiah in I Kings xxii. 19 ff., where the seer states that he has seennbsp;Jehovah � sitting on his throne, and all the host of heaven standing bynbsp;him�. The passage shows an interesting resemblance to certain passagesnbsp;in the Iliad (e.g. xx. 4 ff., xxii. 166 ff.), where Zeus consults thenbsp;assembled gods with regard to the fate of a mortal. We may also compare the incident of the (personified) Dream sent by him to Agamemnonnbsp;(il. II. I ff.). Elsewhere also, especially in the Psalms, Jehovah isnbsp;represented as sitting on his throne and as a king above all other gods�nbsp;expressions which are not strictly monotheistic in the modern sense.nbsp;But the members of the heavenly court are never individualised, as innbsp;Greek and other references to divine communities; neither are theynbsp;objects of worship. The feminine element seems to be wholly wanting.

� Cf. Virolleaud, Syria, xii. 193 ff., xiv. 128 ff.; Antiquity, V. 405 ff. ; Gaster, Journ. R. Asiat. Soc. 1932, p. 857 ff.

The heavenly host is seen in a vision as an army of horses and chariots of fire in II Kings vi. 17 (cf. vii. 6).

In some stories Jehovah visits men in human form and, just as in some Greek and Northern stories, his supernatural nature is not recognised at first. Here also a trace of polytheism may be found in the factnbsp;that sometimes there appear with him�or, more often, in place of himnbsp;�one or more unnamed persons described as �messengers� (�angels�).nbsp;The most striking example occurs in Gen. xviii. 2 ff., where Abrahamnbsp;sees three men approaching his tent. He gives them lunch, and thennbsp;accompanies them towards Sodom. The conversation seems to implynbsp;that he recognises Jehovah before he leaves them. Then Jehovah himself departs; but the �messengers� go on to Sodom, where they are notnbsp;recognised. They spend the night with Lot, and rescue him in thenbsp;morning, when the city is destroyed. A more obscure instance occursnbsp;ib. xxxii. 24 ff., where Jacob wrestles at night with God^ and has hisnbsp;thigh dislocated. With this we may compare Ex. iv. 24 ff., which is stillnbsp;more obscure.

In the Book of Judges the messenger of Jehovah appears on several occasions. In ii. i ff. he comes from Gilgal to Bochim, and addressesnbsp;the assembled people. In vi. 11 ff. Gideon sees him sitting under an oaknbsp;and converses with him, but is slow to recognise him, until he producesnbsp;fire in the sacrifice. The narrative here seems to identify the messengernbsp;with Jehovah himself. Again, in xiii. 3 ff. he appears first to Manoah�snbsp;wife, and then to the wife and husband together. The wife is struck bynbsp;his terrible appearance; but neither of them definitely recognise him,nbsp;until he ascends in the flame of the altar. In this case too the messengernbsp;is identified with God (xiii. 22). An instance relating to later times isnbsp;that of the messenger of Jehovah seen by David, in II Sam. xxiv. 16 f.,nbsp;at the time of the plague. In this case Jehovah addresses the messenger;nbsp;the two therefore are quite distinct.

Lastly, we may cite Josh. v. 13 ff., where a man appears before Joshua with a drawn sword, and states that he is the � captain of Jehovah�snbsp;host�. Shortly afterwards (vi. 2) he is identified with Jehovah. It wouldnbsp;seem then that he is a figure of the same character as the messengers.

� The use of this term, which is unusual in J, is perhaps due to the etymology of Israel, which is given (cf. p. 689). All the three instances noted here come from J.nbsp;Such appearances are said not to occur in E, which prefers dreams and visions; butnbsp;we may note the �messengers of God�, also called �God�s host�, who appear tonbsp;Jacob in xxxii. i f.

occurrence, especially with the prophets and in the Psalms. Strictly speaking, most of the examples belong to Type C (CB), for the substancenbsp;is usually didactic. This form is of great importance in early Hebrewnbsp;literature, in prose as well as poetry. Thus in the Books of Exodus,nbsp;Leviticus and Numbers laws and directions of every kind are regularlynbsp;expressed as divine utterances, and introduced by some such formula asnbsp;�Jehovah said unto Moses�. Instances from JE may be found innbsp;Ex. XX ff., xxxiv; but P also uses similar expressions. In the formulaenbsp;employed by the prophets there is a good deal of variety; but most ofnbsp;the prophecies are represented, in one form or another, as utterances ofnbsp;Jehovah.

Type D is represented, in the form of hymns, by most of the Psalms and by a number of poems in other Books, some of which are variantsnbsp;of psalms. Prose prayers are also frequent. It is the prevailing opinionnbsp;now that very little of the religious poetry dates from before the sixthnbsp;century; much of it is thought to have been composed in the Persiannbsp;period, or perhaps even later. We ourselves are not qualified to judge;nbsp;but we understand that the language and diction preclude the possibilitynbsp;of a verbal tradition preserved from early times, such as is found in thenbsp;Rgveda. We do not know, however, how far the possibility of a freernbsp;form of oral tradition has been considered. Evidence from many lands,nbsp;as we have seen, shows that the substance of poems can be preservednbsp;when the form is modernised, though this is of course less likely tonbsp;occur in poetry used for liturgical purposes. The Psalms contain anbsp;number of references to �the king�, which may most easily be interpreted as dating from the period of kingship�the seventh century ornbsp;earlier�though they have been explained otherwise. Certain othernbsp;features will be noticed in the next chapter. But the question as a wholenbsp;must of course be left to specialists.

The mantic element in early Hebrew literature differs very greatly from what is found in ancient India. For spells, as apart from blessingsnbsp;and curses, there is but little evidence, though this may be due in partnbsp;to the character of the surviving records. On the other hand, prophecynbsp;is very highly developed, and preserved in abundance. Again, manticnbsp;powers, whatever be their form, are seldom represented as proceedingnbsp;from any innate or acquired faculty of the seer himself; usually they arenbsp;due to revelation or direct action from Jehovah. Such spells as are tonbsp;be found therefore have as a rule the form of prayers�which is rathernbsp;exceptional in India. Lastly, the activities of the seer or prophet are very

largely concerned with national or political interests�a feature which is found commonly enough in the Rgveda, but rarely in later India.nbsp;Mystical speculation therefore takes a different form. In place of thenbsp;attention there devoted to the relations between the individual and thenbsp;absolute, we find the interest of the Hebrew prophets concentrated uponnbsp;the relations between the nation and the national deity. In this connection the geographical and ethnographical differences between the twonbsp;countries are to be borne in mind. Israel was constantly exposed tonbsp;external danger, as well as to the influence of a native population whonbsp;were regarded as aliens, though they spoke the same language. Innbsp;general perhaps better analogies for Hebrew mantic activities are to benbsp;found in ancient Europe than in India.

Prescriptive spells are not easy to find in early Hebrew literature. The Book of Leviticus describes a good number of rites which containnbsp;elements of magic, in addition to hygienic and other practical considerations; but if set formulae were in use for such occasions, they are notnbsp;recorded. The same remark applies to the rites described in the Book ofnbsp;Numbers, which likewise come from P. Here perhaps the nearestnbsp;approach to a spell is in the formulae pronounced by the priest at annbsp;ordeal (v. 19 ff.), when a woman is charged with infidelity. Possibly,nbsp;however, a fragment of a true spell may be preserved in the song sungnbsp;by Israel in xxi. 17 f.: �Spring up, O well; sing ye unto it�, etc.

In narratives, especially the stories of Elijah and Elisha, we hear not unfrequently of what may fairly be regarded as spells, though divinenbsp;interposition is almost always invoked. The most interesting examplenbsp;occurs in II Kings iii. 11 ff. The kings of Israel, Judah and Edom havenbsp;gone to war against Moab; but their army is in great straits through lacknbsp;of water. They appeal for help to Elisha, who after some hesitationnbsp;calls for a minstrel. �And it came to pass, when the minstrel played,nbsp;that the hand of Jehovah came upon him. And he said: �Thus saithnbsp;Jehovah, Make this valley full of trenches. For thus saith Jehovah, Yenbsp;shall not see wind, neither shall ye see rain, yet that valley shall benbsp;filled with water��, etc. A somewhat similar case occurs in I Kingsnbsp;xviii. 36 ff., where fire descends upon the altar in consequence ofnbsp;Elijah�s prayer. We may also compare {ib.') II. xiii. 15 ff., where Elishanbsp;on his deathbed tells King Joash to shoot an arrow through the window,nbsp;and then to smite upon the ground with his arrows�by which he willnbsp;obtain victory over the Syrians. Reference may also be made to thenbsp;destruction of the soldiers by Elijah in II. i. lo, 12, and to Elisha�snbsp;declarations to Naaman and Gehazi in II. v. 10 ff., 26 f. These last

examples may be taken either as spells or as curses and blessings which have immediate effect; they are not expressed in the form of prayers.

Blessings and curses of the more usual type, i.e. such as take effect in the future, may be regarded, as we have seen, either as spells or asnbsp;prophecies which bring about their own fulfilment. An example of thisnbsp;type may be found in Numb, xxiii f. The Syrian seer Balaam has beennbsp;summoned by Balak, king of Moab, to curse Israel ; but he can only declarenbsp;what he is inspired to say. The king leads him from one hill-top tonbsp;another, upon each of which he builds altars, offers sacrifices and recitesnbsp;short poems; but the poems are all blessings upon the enemy. It may benbsp;observed that the chapters in which this story is told come from JE,nbsp;while the poems themselves contain references to Assyria which maynbsp;perhaps point to the latter part of the eighth century.

Two poems which are probably still older, the �Blessing of Jacob� and the �Blessing of Moses�, havealreadybeennoticed(p.7O5 f.). Theformernbsp;(Gen. xlix) is addressed by Jacob to his sons on his deathbed, the latternbsp;(Deut, xxxiii) by Moses, likewise at the end of his career, to the childrennbsp;of Israel. The two poems follow more or less the same scheme, thoughnbsp;the latter has a narrative introduction and a hymnic (panegyric) epilogue,nbsp;which are wanting in the former. In detail they have little in common.nbsp;The Blessing of Jacob contains what are practically curses, as well asnbsp;blessings. It may be noted that the pronouncements contained in thisnbsp;poem, whether descriptions of the present or prophecies of the futurenbsp;are all alike expressed as statements of fact. In the Blessing of Moses, onnbsp;the other hand, such pronouncements are varied from time to time bynbsp;sentences expressed in the form of prayers.

Two more poems of this kind, but much shorter, are contained in Gen. xxvii. 27 ff., 39 f. In the former Isaac, who has become blind,nbsp;blesses Jacob under the impression that he is Esau ; in the second he blessesnbsp;Esau, when he has discovered his mistake. The former is expressed innbsp;precative form; the latter in the future, as statement of fact; but no doubtnbsp;is raised as to the fulfilment of the former, any more than the latter. Thenbsp;former is the greater blessing. It has been obtained by deception on thenbsp;part of Jacob and his mother; yet Isaac himself recognises it to be irrevocable. In response to Esau�s entreaty he can only give him an inferiornbsp;blessing, which will not conflict with the other. He will have to servenbsp;his brother, though he will eventually free himself.

Blessings and curses upon nations are of not infrequent occurrence in the works of the early prophets; but on the whole these are perhaps bestnbsp;included among prophecies. Brief curses in prose are also not rare; we

may instance the curse pronounced against the people of Amalek in Ex. xvii. 14 if. An interesting example of a curse attached to a placenbsp;occurs in Josh. vi. 26, where Joshua pronounces a curse upon the mannbsp;who should rebuild Jericho. According to I Kings xvi. 34 this curse wasnbsp;fulfilled in the days of Ahab.

The literature of prophecy is very extensive. Indeed, this is the form in which Hebrew thought, or at least religious thought, chiefly foundnbsp;expression. In the intellectual life of the nation it may be regarded asnbsp;occupying a position similar in a sense to that of the mystical philosophynbsp;of India; and it is rather curious that the most flourishing periods ofnbsp;both seem to have been more or less contemporary.

We have seen (Vol. i, p. 473) that in Europe, more especially in Greece and in the North, prophecy may relate to the past and thenbsp;present, as well as to the future. It is the expression of mantic knowledge, whether by revelation or �vision�, irrespective of time. Therenbsp;can be no doubt that the same is true also of Hebrew prophecy at leastnbsp;as regards the present. Instances are not rare. Thus in I Sam. ix. 6 ff.,nbsp;when the young Saul is looking for his father�s asses, his servant suggests to him that they should consult the �man of God�. Saul hesitatesnbsp;at first, because he has not sufficient for a present (i.e. a fee) to the seer;nbsp;but eventually they go to him. Samuel anoints him privately as king,nbsp;but tells him incidentally (x. 2) that the asses have been found. Again,nbsp;according to (ib.) xxii. 5, � the prophet Gad said unto David : �Abide notnbsp;in the hold; depart and get thee into the land of Judah� �. It seems to benbsp;implied that, in virtue of his prophetic power. Gad has some knowledgenbsp;of Saul�s movements. A more specific instance occurs in II Kings vi.nbsp;11 f., where the king of Syria charges his servants with betraying hisnbsp;plans to the king of Israel, and one of them replies: �Nay, my lord,nbsp;O king; but Elisha, the prophet that is in Israel, telleth the king of Israelnbsp;the words that thou speakest in thy bedchamber�. This is the samenbsp;power which is possessed by Math, son of Mathonwy, in the Mabinoginbsp;which bears his name (atZ init.').

The evidence for prophecy relating to the past is less definite and specific than in Europe. We cannot recall any passages in which revelation of the past is stated to be one of the prophet�s functions. Yet it cannbsp;hardly be doubted that this function was recognised at one time. Beforenbsp;the written texts acquired authority the knowledge of the past wasnbsp;dependent upon oral tradition. But who were responsible for thenbsp;preservation of the traditions and, further back, for composing them ornbsp;giving them shape We believe that by many modern scholars these

activities are attributed to unknown prophets of the past. Some writers indeed describe the early texts J and E as �prophetical� narratives, innbsp;contradistinction with P, the later �priestly� narrative. From analogiesnbsp;in other lands we might ascribe the traditions either to propheticnbsp;organisations (�sons of the prophets�) or to sanctuaries. But the distinction is perhaps not of vital importance; for there were prophets, asnbsp;we shall see (p. 770), in some of the more important sanctuaries. Tonbsp;the question of authorship we shall have to return in a later chapter.nbsp;But it may be noted here that the early prophets Amos, Hosea andnbsp;Isaiah frequently refer to incidents in the Hexateuch, though it isnbsp;uncertain whether they knew these from written texts or from oralnbsp;tradition.�

At this point it is unfortunately impossible to avoid touching upon a question which properly requires linguistic knowledge, such as we donbsp;not possess. In the English Bible �prophet� is a translation of Hebrewnbsp;n�b�\ while �seer� is used for two different Hebrew words, roeh andnbsp;ho^^ehy both of which are closely connected with verbs meaning � to see�.^nbsp;We do not know what is the difference of meaning between these twonbsp;words ;3 but the latter seems to be of rare occurrence in early works. Thenbsp;question, however, to which we would call attention is the relationshipnbsp;of these terms to �prophet�. It would seem that, if not synonymous, thenbsp;terms �prophet� and �seer� were applied to the same persons. Thus innbsp;I Sam. ix. 9, in what is evidently an explanatory note, incorporated innbsp;the text, it is stated that �he that is now called a Prophet was beforetimenbsp;called a Seer (ro�eA)�. Again, in II Sam. xxiv. it we hear of �the prophet Gad, David�s seer (Ao^eA)�. The same man is called prophet alsonbsp;in another passage, cited above (I Sam. xxii. 5). And both terms arenbsp;applied to various other persons. Elsewhere a distinction is made, e.g.nbsp;in I Chron. xxix. 29, between Samuel the seer (ro�eA), Nathan thenbsp;prophet, and Gad the seer (Ao^eA); but the nature of the distinction is notnbsp;made clear.4 It is commonly held, we believe, that the prophet and the

� Some passages, e.g. Hosea xi. 8, are generally thought to be derived from authorities which are now lost.

� Just as �r.fili, �learned poet� (orig. �seer�) is connected with a lost verb �to see� (W. gweled}', cf. Vol. I, p. 606.

3 According to some scholars the original function of the rd eh was to �inspect� the livers of sacrificial victims, that of the hoieh to read the signs of the heavens. Butnbsp;we do not know how far these explanations are accepted. They seem to leave out ofnbsp;account the chief attribute of fhe seer.

We should be inclined to suspect that the descriptions are copied from the passages in the Books of Samuel where these persons are mentioned.

seer were originally distinct�the former being associated with ecstatic conditions�but that the terms eventually became synonymous,nbsp;perhaps by the time of Elijah. It would seem at all events that Elishanbsp;had all the attributes which usually apply to either prophet or seer. Henbsp;was closely connected with the �sons of the prophets�. In what is saidnbsp;below, therefore, we shall not in general attempt to distinguish betweennbsp;prophet and seer, though the subject will require notice again in the lastnbsp;chapter.

One of the most striking features of Hebrew prophecy is that the prophet or seer commonly takes the initiative. Sometimes, it is true, anbsp;wrong impression may be conveyed by the brevity of the narrative. Thusnbsp;in I Sam. xxii. 5, when Gad warns David to move his quarters, the warningnbsp;may be an answer to a question, though this is not stated. But there arenbsp;numerous examples where any such explanation would be extremelynbsp;improbable. Elijah regularly takes the initiative in his dealings withnbsp;Ahab. The same is true of the action of Shemaiah in I Kings xi. 22 ff.,nbsp;of Nathan in II Sam. xii, of the unnamed prophet in I Sam. ii. 27 ff.nbsp;Even in the earliest times (Judg. iv. 6 ff.), the initiative against Sisera isnbsp;clearly taken by the prophetess Deborah. Parallels for such initiativenbsp;on the part of prophets are of course to be found among many peoples,nbsp;indeed perhaps everywhere. But in most countries they seem to benbsp;exceptional. In the Iliad, i. 68 ff., Calchas does not offer to explain thenbsp;cause of the plague until a seer has been called for; but in II Sam.nbsp;xxiv. 13, in a somewhat similar situation. Gad takes the initiative.nbsp;Instances like Od. xx. 350 ff., where Theoclymenos unsolicited prophesies the doom of Penelope�s suitors, are less frequent in Greece andnbsp;elsewhere.^

We may now illustrate briefly the various forms of prophecy. First we may take prophecies on behalf of individuals. A simple example isnbsp;to be found in II Kings viii. 7 ff. Benhadad, king of Syria, is ill, andnbsp;sends his officer Hazael to Elisha with a large present, to ask him: �Shallnbsp;I recover of this sickness.^� Elisha replies: �Go, say unto him, �Thounbsp;shalt surely recover�; howbeit Jehovah hath shewed me that he shallnbsp;surely die.� In the conversation which follows, other examples occur,nbsp;e.g. when Elisha says (viii. 13): �Jehovah hath shewed me that thounbsp;shalt be king over Syria.� Other instances may be found in Isaiah�snbsp;prophecies (fb. xx. 1-6) with reference to Hezekiah�s illness and troubles.nbsp;We may also compare I Kings xiv, where Ahijah makes known to

* We may refer to an interesting passage in Rimbertus� Life oj St Ansgar (cap. 26), cited in Vol. i, p. 473.

Jeroboam�s queen that her son�s illness will prove fatal. It will be observed that in such cases the prophecy is sometimes a reply to annbsp;enquiry, sometimes spontaneous.

Next we will take prophecies on behalf of the nation. No rigid line of demarcation can be drawn between this class and the preceding; somenbsp;prophecies may be interpreted as relating either to the king or to thenbsp;nation. A very early example of this class is to be found in Judg. iv. 6 ff.,nbsp;where Deborah summons Barak to rise against Sisera. We may alsonbsp;take in this sense Samuel�s speeches in I Sam. vii. 3 ff., though they contain little of what is commonly called prophecy, and the passage isnbsp;believed to be late. Better examples occur in the account of Ahab�s warnbsp;with the Syrians (I Kings xx. 13 f., 28), where unnamed prophetsnbsp;prophesy victory for the king of Israel. Strictly these passages can benbsp;interpreted as prophecies on behalf of Ahab ; but the cause is evidentlynbsp;national rather than personal. In this connection we may refer again tonbsp;Elisha�s dying injunctions to Joash (II Kings xiii. 15 ff.), though thenbsp;passage resembles a spell more than a prophecy. Prophets seem frequently to have taken a leading part in stimulating resistance to foreignnbsp;enemies. We may instance Isaiah�s prophecies against the Assyrians,nbsp;e.g. II Kings xix. 20 ff.. Is. x. 24 ff. This is a feature for which analogiesnbsp;may be found in Europe. In particular we may refer to the Welshnbsp;prophetic poems noticed in Vol. i, p. 4J3 ff. (cf. p. 129).

Not unfrequently we find prophets reproving or denouncing kings. The reproofs are usually accompanied by prophecies of punishment.nbsp;Saul is reproved or denounced by Samuel on three occasions; and innbsp;each case Samuel states that he will lose the kingdom. Two of thesenbsp;passages (I Sam. xiii. 13 f., xv. 16 ff.) come from the later account ofnbsp;Saul�s life. In the third {ib. xxviii. 16 ff.), the origin of which is disputednbsp;(cf. p. 667), Samuel is already dead, and is called up from the grave tonbsp;give a response to Saul. He denounces him unsparingly, and says that henbsp;will lose his life in a national disaster on the following day.

The fault for which Saul is denounced is that he has spared the life of Agag, king of Amalek, whom Samuel had ordered him to kill. In othernbsp;cases kings are reproved or denounced for acts of flagrant injustice.nbsp;Thus in II Sam. xii Nathan reproves David for causing the death ofnbsp;Uriah the Hittite. The reproof strikes us as not too severe, consideringnbsp;the nature of the crime; but it is accompanied by a prophecy of thenbsp;humiliation which David will suffer through Absalom�s rebellion. Thenbsp;incident is remarkable also from the fact that the prophet reproves thenbsp;king for injustice to a man who is not an Israelite. In I Kings xxi. 20 ff.

Elijah denounces Ahab much more sternly for a very similar crime. Yet it is not clear that Ahab was personally responsible for Naboth�s death,nbsp;though he took possession of his property.

In later times Naboth�s death was remembered as Ahab�s greatest crime ; but it was by no means the only cause of the hostility between himnbsp;and Elijah. The root of the trouble seems to have lain throughout in hisnbsp;wife Jezebel, who was evidently regarded with horror by the prophets,nbsp;both in her husband�s lifetime and later. She is said not only to havenbsp;acted tyrannically, as in the case of Naboth, but also to have persecutednbsp;the prophets of Jehovah. Indeed she would appear to have been fanatically attached to her own (Phoenician) religion. Other queens alsonbsp;are charged with introducing cults incompatible with that of Jehovah,nbsp;though apparently only in the earlier part of the kingly period. But itnbsp;is not clear that the early prophets were violently opposed to foreignnbsp;influence, apart from religion. Elijah and Elisha were strongly patriotic;nbsp;but this did not prevent them from visiting Phoenicia and Damascus.

The prophets do not rest content with reproofs or even with denunciations of kings whose doings had incurred their disapproval. On several occasions we find them prophesying, and indeed actively promoting, revolution. Samuel, as we have seen, prophesies the downfallnbsp;of Saul and his family, and anoints David to take his place. Jeroboam�snbsp;rebellion is said to be due to the action of Ahijah (I Kings xi. 29 if.); butnbsp;the same prophet later (jb. xiv. 7 ff.) prophesies the fall of his dynasty.nbsp;The prophet Jehu, son of Hanani, prophesies the fall of Baasha�snbsp;dynasty �ib. xvi. i if.). Elijah similarly prophecies the destruction ofnbsp;Ahab�s family (jb. xxi. 21 if.); and the revolution which brings thisnbsp;about is directly instigated by Elisha (II Kings ix. i ff.). The politicalnbsp;influence of the prophets seems to have been very great.

Thus far we have been concerned in the main with the pre-literary prophets�whose activities are known to us only from stories containednbsp;in the Books of Samuel and Kings. The activities of what we may fornbsp;short call the �literary� prophets�collections of whose works have beennbsp;preserved�appear to have been of a somewhat different character,nbsp;though it may be questioned how far the differences are due to accidentsnbsp;of transmission. So far as we can judge, the earlier prophets addressednbsp;themselves wholly or at least mainly to individuals. The majority of thenbsp;stories relate to their dealings with kings, though there are others whichnbsp;are concerned with persons of humbler position, sometimes indeednbsp;such as were quite poor. But we seldom hear of appeals to the generalnbsp;public or to bodies of people, except in certain stories of Samuel, which

are commonly believed to be very late. The story of the sacrifice on Mt Carmel (I Kings xviii) may be regarded as an instance; for Elijahnbsp;appeals to the assembly (21 ff., etc.), though the king is presiding. Butnbsp;the appeal of Shemaiah (j.b. xii. 22 ff.) is doubtless addressed primarily tonbsp;the king, Rehoboam. On the other hand a clear example is to be foundnbsp;in II Chron. xxviii. 9 ff., where Oded appeals for the liberation of thenbsp;captives. No king is mentioned here, though certain leading men arenbsp;specified as taking the initiative. This case, however, relates to the periodnbsp;of the literary prophets.

The evidence for the literary prophets is very different. Amos can hardly be said to appeal to any individual, though he has an encounternbsp;with Amaziah, the priest of Bethel (vii. 10 ff.) and pronounces a prophecy or curse against him. Isaiah appeals both to Ahaz and to Hezekiah; and in one passage (xxii. 15 ff.) he prophesies against a highnbsp;official. But the great majority of his prophecies relate to the nationnbsp;collectively or to foreign nations. In Hosea�s prophecies the namenbsp;Israel occurs about forty times, and the name Ephraim almost as often,nbsp;while Jacob and Samaria are also used in much the same sense; but nonbsp;contemporary prince is mentioned, except in the title of the collection.nbsp;The prophecies of Micah show the same, exclusively national, interest.

It is clear then that the prophets of the eighth century, in contrast with those of the ninth, make their appeal to the general public. Theynbsp;may have been enabled to do so by the more general use of writing.nbsp;But we doubt if this is the true explanation. If the prophecies had circulated in written form from the beginning, the texts could hardly havenbsp;come into the state of confusion in which we have them�more especiallynbsp;that of Isaiah. The explanation is more probably to be sought in changednbsp;political and social conditions. Such changes are found elsewhere at thenbsp;close of the Heroic Age. There is no evidence indeed, so far as wenbsp;know, for any post-heroic Hebrew literature of the individualistic type,nbsp;such as we find in the poems of Archilochos and Egill Skallagn'msson;nbsp;but such poetry is not the only product of early post-heroic times.

The Hebrew (literary) prophets were approximately contemporary with the early didactic poets of Greece, and in all probability also withnbsp;the growth of philosophical (Upanishad) literature in India. This contemporaneity may not be without significance. But what concerns usnbsp;more at the moment is that all three apparently represent phases ofnbsp;culture which have certain important elements in common. All seem tonbsp;belong to times when writing was beginning to be used for literarynbsp;purposes. Moreover all belong to early post-heroic times, though the

interval which had elapsed since the end of the Heroic Age may have been longer in Greece than in the others.

The Hebrew prophets themselves have elements in common with both the Greek and the Indian works. With the latter they share theirnbsp;manticism, though the manticism is of quite a different character. Greeknbsp;didactic poetry also was at least in part of mantic origin, though as anbsp;rule this element soon became forgotten, or survived only as a figure ofnbsp;speech. But in substance the Hebrew prophets have much more innbsp;common with the Greeks than with the Indians. They are concernednbsp;primarily with moral and social duties, or rather with the denunciationnbsp;of moral and social evils, and with the relations between man, especiallynbsp;the nation, and God. All these interests are represented also in earlynbsp;Greek didactic poetry, though the treatment and the conceptionsnbsp;are different. But the Upanishads are not concerned with thesenbsp;subjects.^

Amos, the earliest of the literary prophets, belonged to Tekoa in Judah; but his prophecies relate almost entirely to the northern kingdom. Their date seems to be shortly before 750 b.c. in the reign ofnbsp;Jeroboam II. He says (vii. 14) that he was a shepherd and dresser ofnbsp;sycamores, but denies that he was a prophet or son of a prophet�bynbsp;which he means presumably that he did not belong to any propheticnbsp;organisation. Apart from this we know nothing of his life, except thatnbsp;he visited or resided in Beth-el, where he had an encounter with thenbsp;priest Amaziah.

The evils which Amos denounces seem to be in part of an economic nature�the oppression of the poor by the rich through the impositionnbsp;of heavy burdens, and in particular by distraints for debt (ii. 6 ff., viii.nbsp;6). The rich live in great luxury, owing to their exactions from thenbsp;poor (v. II, vi. 4 ff.); their inanities, as well as their vices, arouse hisnbsp;wrath (vi. 5). The ladies of the aristocracy, whom he calls �kine ofnbsp;Bashan� (iv. i), are guilty of the same practices. But he also speaks ofnbsp;dishonesty and of injustice in the administration of the law�the use ofnbsp;false weights (viii. 5) and the taking of bribes (v. 12). Frequently henbsp;describes Israel�by which he seems throughout to mean the uppernbsp;classes�as devoted to religious observances and to festivals at Beth-el,nbsp;Gilgal, and elsewhere; but Jehovah will not accept their offerings. He

� Virtue and truth seem to be assumed in a philosopher; and a wise king is credited {Chand, v. xi. 5) with permitting no vice within his realm. But specificnbsp;moral injunctions (e.g. Taitt. i. xi) are very rare in the Upanishads, though commonnbsp;enough in later literature.

repeats again and again that disaster is coming; the cities and sanctuaries will be destroyed, and the country laid waste.

It is to be observed that the economic and social evils denounced by Amos are identical with those which we hear of in Greece at the beginning of the historical period. In many Greek states the seventh century was characterised by upheavals, which led to revolutions, dictatorships or cancellations of debts. The cause of these is doubtless to benbsp;sought, at least in part, in the opening or re-opening of Mediterraneannbsp;lands to commercial enterprise and in the consequent raising of thenbsp;standard of living. Before this time we have very little information;nbsp;but it can hardly be doubted that the conditions which led to thesenbsp;movements were in existence to some extent in the eighth century.nbsp;Greek commercial enterprise had begun to develop by the beginning ofnbsp;the eighth century, Phoenician enterprise much earlier. The latter hadnbsp;connections by land, as well as by sea�; and the luxury described bynbsp;Amos shows that Israel, owing doubtless to successful warfare, had nownbsp;become one of its important markets. The conditions then which wenbsp;find prevailing in Greece and Palestine were probably not unconnected.nbsp;The anarchy which followed the death of Jeroboam II�at least threenbsp;violent revolutions in under twenty years�may be regarded as annbsp;earlier counterpart of the Greek upheavals. But in Israel the story wasnbsp;cut short soon afterwards by the Assyrian conquest.

For Greece of the eighth century Hesiod is almost our only contemporary authority; and it is of interest to compare the �Works and Days� with Amos� prophecies, in regard to both the conditions described andnbsp;the poets� attitude towards them. Hesiod�s poem may be slightly thenbsp;later of the two, possibly by a generation ; but it is to be borne in mindnbsp;that he belonged to a backward district, though his father had been anbsp;merchant of the Aeolic Cyme. The personal element in the poem�hisnbsp;admonitions to his brother Perses�need not be noticed here (cf.nbsp;Vol. I, p. 357 f.).

Hesiod, like Amos, regards his age as one of outstanding depravity, far inferior to the days of old. Violence and injustice are rampant. Innbsp;particular he denounces repeatedly the corruptness of the �bribedevouring� princes who administer the law. But of luxury he saysnbsp;little. Nor is the position of the poor agriculturist as hopeless as innbsp;Amos� prophecies. He can keep free from debt by hard work; and thenbsp;latter part of the poem is mainly occupied with practical advice upon the

* We may refer e.g. to the silver platters, found in Italy, Cyprus and elsewhere, which depict both Egyptian and Assyrian scenes in concentric zones.

working of a small farm. The conditions of life in Hesiod�s home were evidently more primitive than in Israel.

The poets have much more in common in their attitude to their subjects. Both of them are shepherds, and have received their inspirationnbsp;while tending their flocks; and their attitude to society is doubtlessnbsp;coloured by their vocation. But they are by no means to be regardednbsp;as ignorant rustics; both of them are well versed in traditional (antiquarian) learning. Both of them are deeply impressed with the evils ofnbsp;the time, and bitterly hostile to the upper classes. But the outstandingnbsp;ideas which both poets have in common are (i) the association of justicenbsp;with the deity�Zeus or Jehovah�and (ii) the conviction that injusticenbsp;and wickedness will lead to disaster. Amos is more specific in regard tonbsp;the latter; he clearly has in mind the danger of foreign conquest, tonbsp;which Israel, owing to its geographical position, was exposed. Hesiod�snbsp;countrymen have only local wars, together with famine and plague, tonbsp;fear. In one passagenbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;and Days, 180-199) Hesiod himself

represents the future as hopeless; but in another (fb. 223 if.) he lays down that the city of the just will flourish, while that of the wicked willnbsp;come to grief. He deals very largely in gnomes and gnomic preceptsnbsp;(cf. Vol. I, p. 390 f.)�of which Amos and the other Hebrew prophetsnbsp;make only sparing use. On the other hand he does not appeal to anynbsp;intimate personal relationship between the state and its deity, like thatnbsp;between Israel and Jehovah, which forms the most prominent elementnbsp;in Amos� doctrine. His own inspiration is from the Muses, not fromnbsp;Zeus, and he evidently regards them as his patrons; but it is Zeus whonbsp;governs the destinies of mankind. His attitude to religious observancesnbsp;would have brought stern denunciations upon him from Amos.

Hesiod�s religious ideas, like the social conditions of his time, are of a more primitive character than what we find in Amos� prophecies. Yetnbsp;there is sufficient resemblance to give ground for suggesting a connection in this case also; and a connection of some kind has in fact beennbsp;proposed,^ not only for Hesiod and the Hebrew prophets, but also fornbsp;certain Egyptian official records dating from the same period, whichnbsp;show a noteworthy change of tone. The king (Piankhi), instead of thenbsp;traditional glorying over the defeat of his enemies, discourses at somenbsp;length upon his anxiety to show mercy. We may add that this recordnbsp;may be compared with the magnanimous conduct attributed to thenbsp;leaders of Ephraim in II Chron. xxviii. 12 ff. The authority for the

� Cf. Petrie, History of Egypt, in. 276, where, however, Isaiah and Ezekiel, not Amos, are specified.

incident is of course late and uncertain, but hardly open to the suspicion of any partiality towards Ephraim.

This incident at all events suggests very distinctly that Amos� description of the ruling classes in Israel is one-sided, and that thenbsp;feeling for justice and humane dealings was by no means limited to thenbsp;prophets. Indeed one striking feature of the story is the readiness of thenbsp;leading men to follow the prophet (Oded), just as in the days of Elisha.nbsp;Moreover we have assured evidence to the same effect in the legislativenbsp;activities of the period, both in Greece and in Israel. In Greece manynbsp;states had their laws committed to writing in the seventh century; butnbsp;in Israel this probably took place earlier, and apparently in the northernnbsp;kingdom. The earliest Greek laws are not preserved; but those of Israelnbsp;are clearly under religious inspiration. In this case at least a connectionnbsp;of some kind is more than probable�Greek writing itself was derivednbsp;from Palestine�and consequently one cannot fairly deny the possibilitynbsp;of a similar connection in the movements of thought which make theirnbsp;appearance about this time in both countries.�

Modern scholars are inclined to attach great importance to Amos in the history of religious thought. He and the prophets who immediatelynbsp;followed him are often regarded as the �creators of ethical monotheism�.nbsp;In view of the fact that no earlier works other than narratives and lawsnbsp;have been preserved, this seems to us a somewhat hazardous proposition.nbsp;Amos may be reflecting the religious thought of his time, though this isnbsp;far more advanced than that of the narratives ; for the latter were doubtlessnbsp;traditional, though they may only recently have been committed tonbsp;writing. Hesiod retails much advice which is clearly secondhand ; � andnbsp;it cannot safely be assumed that his moral-religious views are original.nbsp;Neither poet seems to us to show much insight in his treatment of socialnbsp;problems, except in certain details which may have come within hisnbsp;personal knowledge; 3 their denunciations are characterised by vigournbsp;rather than by discrimination. Gould anything else be expected fromnbsp;shepherds.^

It seems to us�and we speak with all reserve, as non-specialists� that two main elements may be distinguished in the populations of both

' There can of course be no doubt as to Oriental influence in early Greek antiquarian learning. We may refer e.g. to the story of the Flood and to the passage relating to Belos in Catal. fragm. 43 (Kinkel). In the sixth century evidence fornbsp;Oriental influence is abundant.

E.g. the directions for navigation ( Works and Days, 617 ff.). He confesses that he had never been to sea.

Israel and Greece. One of these was coastward or urban in its affinities, the other landward and pastoral. The former was open to every newnbsp;wave of civilisation, with its increase of knowledge and its luxury,nbsp;vices and follies. The latter was conservative, and regarded these innovations with abhorrence. In Israel this latter element seems to have beennbsp;much under the influence of prophets, who cherished both a stricternbsp;morality and traditions of ferocity in their treatment of enemies. Anbsp;century before Amos� time, under Ahab, the coastward element hadnbsp;been predominant. Then came a revolution, apparently by the landward ele/nent, who at first used their power ruthlessly. In Amos� ownnbsp;time a reaction had taken place, but gradually, not by further revolution; the coastward element had once more become predominant, andnbsp;the prophets were again in opposition. But during much of the intervening period the two elements must have been in not altogether unfriendly contact; and we would suggest that it was at this time, whennbsp;Elisha�s influence stood high with the government, that Hebrew religiousnbsp;thought assumed that character which is reflected by the literary prophets.

If so, the original contribution made by these prophets themselves would seem to have been of a different character�mantic rather thannbsp;philosophical. For several centuries Palestine and Syria had been freenbsp;from serious molestation from the more powerful kingdoms to thenbsp;north and south; but in the ninth century their freedom began to benbsp;threatened by the growth of the Assyrian empire. The Assyrian advancenbsp;was slow; but throughout the first half of the eighth century it was anbsp;constant menace to Syria, and no thoughtful persons in Israel can havenbsp;been free from apprehension for the future. The chief attention of thenbsp;prophets is devoted to giving emotional expression to this sense ofnbsp;danger; they regard themselves as the mouthpieces of Jehovah and thenbsp;impending disaster as a divine retribution for the nation�s sins. In pointnbsp;of fact there can be little doubt that the catastrophe was hastened by thenbsp;dissensions and the unsettled government which prevailed after thenbsp;death of Jeroboam II. But the attitude adopted by the prophets strikesnbsp;the modern reader as a strange way of dealing with such a situation, andnbsp;likely to produce panic and demoralisation rather than social reform.

Hosea�s prophetic activities are generally dated a few years later than those of Amos�-shortly before and after the death of Jeroboam II, i.e.nbsp;probably c. 745-735 R.c. He also is primarily concerned with thenbsp;northern kingdom, to which he presumably belonged; most of thenbsp;references to Judah are usually believed to be interpolations. Certainnbsp;passages show that the period of dissensions had already begun. But

nothing seems to be known of Hosea�s personal history, apart from what he says about his unhappy marriage.

Hosea is much more difficult to understand than Amos, owing partly perhaps to the corrupt state of the text, which is believed to be extensively interpolated; but the chief source of difficulty lies in the extremelynbsp;figurative character of his utterances. His work indeed is not of a kindnbsp;which can be interpreted by a non-specialist; but at the same time it isnbsp;too important to pass over without mention. One of the leading motifsnbsp;in his prophecies seems to be the conception of Israel as the unfaithfulnbsp;wife of Jehovah. In the first chapter it is stated that the prophet atnbsp;Jehovah�s command married an immoral woman. An account of theirnbsp;unhappy married life follows ; but much of this obviously applies to thenbsp;nation, as the faithless wife of Jehovah, rather than to the prophet�s ownnbsp;experiences. The question has been much discussed whether this storynbsp;is to be taken as real autobiography or as didactic fiction; but the formernbsp;seems to be the more commonly accepted view. It is certainly verynbsp;remarkable ; for this interpretation would seem to imply that the prophetnbsp;turned his life into a kind of didactic drama, in which he played the partnbsp;of Jehovah and his wife that of Israel. In later chapters much is saidnbsp;about �whoredom� and adultery; and again it is not clear how far thesenbsp;terms are to be taken literally, and how far figuratively. In this casenbsp;also it seems to be the prevailing view that the prophet had in mind realnbsp;sexual immorality, perhaps especially in connection with religiousnbsp;festivals, as well as the religious infidelity of the nation. In his denunciations Hosea is both more impassioned and more specific than Amos.nbsp;But he is uncertain whether the destruction will come from Assyria ornbsp;from Egypt. The rulers of Israel seem to be negotiating with both thesenbsp;powers.

Isaiah presents at least as great difficulties. The Book which bears his name is a collection of prophecies, not more than half of which can wellnbsp;be his work. The latter part, from cap. xl, clearly belongs to much laternbsp;times; and the same is true of not inconsiderable portions of cap. i-xxxix.nbsp;These chapters also contain a certain amount of narrative, chiefly derived from Kings. Moreover it is not certain that all the early propheciesnbsp;come from him; one short prophecy (ii. 2-4) is attributed also tonbsp;Micah (iv. i ff.), his contemporary. The prophecies are not in chronological order; and the text is believed to be often corrupt or incomplete.nbsp;Apart from these textual difficulties, the meaning is very frequentlynbsp;obscure, owing to the figurativeness of the language. Indeed we arenbsp;well aware that Isaiah�s prophecies, like Hosea�s, are properly �for

experts only�; but�again like Hosea�s�they are far too important to be ignored in a book of this kind, though we shall only attempt tonbsp;notice a few examples.

According to the introductory words (i. i) Isaiah�s activities extended over a long period ; and this is borne out by the text. Unlike the prophetsnbsp;already noticed, he is concerned with the kingdom of Judah, andnbsp;especially Jerusalem, to which he evidently belonged. The earliestnbsp;poem is probably cap. vi, where he receives his inspiration, in the yearnbsp;that King Uzziah died (c. 740). The inspiration comes to him in anbsp;vision; he sees the Lord (i.e. Jehovah) enthroned in the Temple, whichnbsp;is filled with his robes. Above him stand Seraphim with six wings, onenbsp;of whom brings a hot coal or stone from the altar and touches thenbsp;prophet�s mouth with it. He receives his commission, which is a strangenbsp;one�to obscure the understanding of the people, so that they will notnbsp;realise the evils which are coming upon them. The land is to be utterlynbsp;laid waste.

This attitude of complete hopelessness towards the future appears frequently enough in the prophecies; but it is not maintained consistently. Thus in cap. vii, when Ahaz is hard pressed by the armies ofnbsp;Israel and Syria, Isaiah tells him that the enemy are at the end of theirnbsp;strength and not to be feared; his prophecy here seems to be one of encouragement, though it is not well received. Even towards Assyrianbsp;he sometimes adopts a bellicose, and indeed provocative, tone; we maynbsp;instance x. 5 ff. and more especially II Kings xix. 21 ff. A number ofnbsp;prophecies probably, like the passage last cited, relate to Sennacherib�snbsp;great invasion, in which Isaiah counselled Hezekiah to hold out, innbsp;spite of the devastation of the country. There are also many passagesnbsp;which speak of better times to come; but most of these are generallynbsp;believed to have been added in later times.

Though Isaiah was in favour of holding out against Assyria, he seems, like other prophets, to have been strongly opposed to the policy ofnbsp;alliances with Egypt and other neighbouring states. Much of thenbsp;evidence bearing upon this question is precarious, because a number ofnbsp;the prophecies which foretell the destruction of these states may be later,nbsp;perhaps by centuries, than his time; but apparently his policy was tonbsp;rely upon the protection of Jehovah alone. One of the most curiousnbsp;passages occurs in xx. 2 ff., where it is stated�though the text is notnbsp;quite clear�that about the time of the fall of Ashdod (b.c. 71 i) Isaiahnbsp;went about naked (perhaps half-clad) and without shoes for three years,nbsp;to symbolise the disasters which are about to befall Egypt. The principle

730 involved here is apparently the same as in the opening chapters ofnbsp;Hosea; the prophet turns his life into a kind of didactic drama. In thisnbsp;case, however, he personates not Jehovah but the unfortunate Egyptians,nbsp;who are going to be carried away into captivity. The incident is thenbsp;more remarkable because it is hardly to be supposed that he was greatlynbsp;concerned at the fate of the Egyptians. His object is to demonstratenbsp;that, so far from being able to protect Judah or the Philistine states,nbsp;Egypt itself will soon be overwhelmed by disaster. The parallelism between Isaiah�s and Hosea�s ideas may be illustrated by another passagenbsp;(viii. I ff.), where the former gives his child a name derived from thenbsp;disasters of Damascus and Samaria; we may compare the names givennbsp;by Hosea (i. 6 ff.) to his children.�^

The social evils denounced by Isaiah seem to be similar to those recorded by Amos; but the references are less specific, though injusticenbsp;and bribery are mentioned. Like Amos he is indignant at the multitudenbsp;of religious observances to which the nation is devoted, and demands anbsp;reform in place of them. Much is said about drunkenness, especially innbsp;Ephraim (xxviii. i ff.), but perhaps also in Judah (v. 11, 22). Isaiah alsonbsp;seems to share Amos� feelings towards the luxury and the inanities of thenbsp;upper classes, e.g. the practice of minstrelsy at feasts (v. 12; cf. Amosnbsp;vi. 5). He is especially severe upon the frivolities of the ladies of fashion;nbsp;he specifies at length (iii. 16 ff.) their ornaments and the attractions whichnbsp;they cultivate, and prophesies, apparently not without some feeling ofnbsp;satisfaction, the horrors in store for them in the future. In general,nbsp;however, the descriptive element is much subordinated to the denunciatory.

Nahum�s prophecies belong to a time (c. 612 b.c.) which does not properly come within the scope of our work. But the contrast in tone isnbsp;worth remarking. The prophecies consist largely of expressions of joynbsp;at the downfall of the great national enemy, Assyria, which is describednbsp;in poetical language. The contrast with the earlier prophets lies not onlynbsp;in the political situation, but also, apparently, in the sentiments of thenbsp;author, e.g. (i. 15) �Keep thy feasts, O Judah�,�now that the dangernbsp;is past.

� Names of this kind are sometimes found elsewhere, e.g. I Sam. iv. 21. Isaiah himself (vii. 3) has another son, with a somewhat similar name.

� From II Kings xiv. 25, it would seem that he was an older contemporary of Amos, early in the eighth century. This passage also suggests that he had nationalnbsp;interests.

in a late and legendary form. The chief point of interest is that Jehovah is represented as concerned about the fate of a foreign and hostile state,nbsp;while the prophet tries to evade his instructions�apparently not sonbsp;much from fear as from aversion to the thought that the Assyriansnbsp;should be saved. Jehovah is no longer a deity of purely national interests; he is rather to be regarded as God of the World. Traces of thenbsp;same conception occur in a number of passages in the Book of Isaiah;nbsp;but we understand that all of these are believed to be later than Isaiah�snbsp;time. A safer instance is probably to be found in Amos ix. 7, wherenbsp;Jehovah is said to have brought the Philistines and the Syrians, as wellnbsp;as the Israelites, from other lands. In some sense indeed the conceptionnbsp;is implied�though only for certain peoples�in the story of Abrahamnbsp;and Isaac. It may therefore have been current in Jonah�s time. On thenbsp;other hand the true explanation may be that an author of much laternbsp;times is utilising the old legend for the presentation of ideas in which henbsp;is interested.

Another question which is not clear to us is whether the early prophets ever have in mind a universal, elemental, catastrophe, such as we find in the Mah�bh�rata. There are several passages in Isaiah�s propheciesnbsp;which can be�and have been�interpreted in this way; but it is uncertain, we understand, whether any of them date from Isaiah�s time.nbsp;References to eclipse phenomena, e.g. Amos viii. 9, need not be interpreted thus ; they may be regarded merely as omens of coming nationalnbsp;disaster. In Zephaniah i. if., 14 ff. the conception seems to be morenbsp;clearly developed, though these passages are believed to be inspired bynbsp;dread of some threatened invasion, towards the end of the seventhnbsp;century. The development can perhaps be explained from the languagenbsp;of the prophets themselves. In popular usage the term � Day of Jehovah �nbsp;denoted an expected national triumph. But the early prophets use it fornbsp;an impending national disaster (cf. Amos v. 18). Later it comes to meannbsp;a universal catastrophe, which will lead to the restoration of Jerusalemnbsp;and the recognition of the supremacy of Jehovah by foreign peoples.nbsp;But it may be questioned whether this development has not beennbsp;affected by foreign influence. In India, where the evidence is doubtlessnbsp;much later (cf. p. 622), the conception of a universal catastrophe isnbsp;connected with the doctrine of the Four Ages, which seems not to havenbsp;been current in Israel. Unfortunately we do not know whether anynbsp;evidence is available for the intermediate regions.

The same remark must be made with regard to the general characteristics of the early literary prophets. It is clear that a feeling for the

need of moral and social reform in connection with religion was not limited to Israel during this period. Such a feeling is obvious enough innbsp;Hesiod, as we have seen, though in Greece generally the later development of the movement was political rather than religious. In Iran thenbsp;religious element was stronger, and so too the importance attached tonbsp;(divine) �righteousness� (asa). Indeed the analogy with the propheticnbsp;movement in Israel is very striking, though the chronology of earlynbsp;Zoroastrianism is still uncertain. Evidence for somewhat similar movements of thought could also be found in more remote lands.

1. Hebrew gnomic literature is chiefly represented by the Book of Proverbs and the Book of Ecclesiastes. The Psalms also contain muchnbsp;gnomic matter; and a certain amount is to be found in Exodus and elsewhere, mostly in the form of precepts. The Book of Job belongs to thenbsp;same class of literature, though the actual gnomic element in it is comparatively slight. A much closer resemblance to Proverbs is shown bynbsp;two books which are not included in the Old Testament, the Wisdom ofnbsp;Solomon and the Wisdom of Ben Sirach (also called Ecclesiasticus),nbsp;especially the latter.

Most of the �wisdom� books date from a late period, which does not come within the scope of our work. Ben Sirach�s book was writtennbsp;c. 190 (b.c.) ; and Ecclesiastes and the Wisdom of Solomon are generallynbsp;believed to be no earlier. In regard to Job and Proverbs there is lessnbsp;agreement; but the former is commonly attributed to some time, earliernbsp;or later, within the Persian period. In the case of Proverbs, which is thenbsp;most important of these works for our purpose, the discrepancy ofnbsp;opinion is much greater. It is obviously a composite work, consistingnbsp;of a number of different collections. Many scholars believe several ofnbsp;these collections to be as early as the eighth or seventh century; butnbsp;others attribute the whole to the Greek period, preferably the thirdnbsp;century. If the latter view is correct, the work of course does not comenbsp;within our scope. But since there is a difference of opinion, we havenbsp;decided not to omit it, especially as there is very little gnomic materialnbsp;which can with confidence be assigned to any earlier time. We shallnbsp;therefore give a brief summary of its contents. It may be remarked herenbsp;that certain arguments which have been adduced in favour of a latenbsp;date seem to us unsound. But there is some other evidence, of which wenbsp;are not qualified to judge.

Cap. i-ix consist of discourses on wisdom in the form of instructions by a � wise � father to his son�a widespread form of gnomic composition.^nbsp;The prevailing form is that of the precept; but it is varied by gnomes,

� English, Norse and Irish examples will be found in Vol. i, Ch. xii. For a probable Greek example we may refer to the fragment of Simonides quoted ib. p. 416.

chiefly of Type Ila? Examples of the former may be found in i. 8, lo, of the latter in i. 7. Enthymemes seem to be of frequent occurrence,nbsp;e.g. i. 16; and the gnomes are commonly expanded into descriptions.nbsp;Cap. vii-ix consist of a series of pictures similar to those in the Exeternbsp;Book (cf. Vol. I, p. 381), though some of them are of a more abstractnbsp;character, comparable rather with the Vedic example referred to onnbsp;p. 5 50, above.

Cap. x-xxii. 16 consist of gnomes of Type Ha, arranged in couplets. In cap. x-xv the second member of the couplet usually presents anbsp;contrast to the first; but from ch. xv onwards^ it tends, more and morenbsp;frequently, to take the form of an extension or repetition, e.g. xx. 23.

At xxii. 17 begins a series of quatrains apparently described as �the words of the wise��which continue to xxiv. 22, though they are somewhat irregular. Like cap. i-ix, they seem to be in the form of instructions given by a father to his son. The prevailing form is again that ofnbsp;the precept. Enthymemes, giving the reason or purpose of the precept,nbsp;are very common, e.g. xxii. 22 ff. ; but sometimes the quatrain is fillednbsp;up by expansion or repetition, e.g. xxiv. 3 f. This section showsnbsp;frequent analogies with the Havamal, though the cynical humournbsp;characteristic of a large part of the latter is wanting, as elsewhere in thenbsp;Book of Proverbs. The first part of it (down to xxiii. 14) shows a stillnbsp;closer resemblance to an Egyptian gnomic poem, the �Teaching ofnbsp;Amenemope�,3 with which indeed it is thought to have a definitenbsp;literary connection.^

The remainder of cap. xxiv (from st. 23) seems to be in the nature of a supplement to the preceding section. It is introduced by the words :nbsp;�These also are sayings of the wise.� The matter is similar; but thenbsp;quatrain form is not preserved. This short section ends (st. 30 ff.) withnbsp;a picture of the idle man. Again we are reminded of the HdvamiL

� For the system of classification, see p. 5 50, note, and Vol. i, p. 377 f., where it is explained more fully. It should be noted that Type la and Type Ila are not alwaysnbsp;easy to distinguish. But gnomes of Type I seem not to be very frequent in Proverbs ;nbsp;their place is usually taken by precepts.

� Some scholars believe x-xv and xvi-xxii to be derived from two different collections, owing to stylistic differences.

Cf. Simpson, Journ. of Egyptian Archaeol. Xll. 232 ff.; Oesterley, The lEisclom of Egypt and the Old Testament, p. 60 ff. There is some difference of opinion as tonbsp;whether this section is derived from Amenemope, or both are derived from a lostnbsp;(perhaps Hebrew source). The question depends to some extent upon Amenemope�snbsp;relation to earlier Egyptian gnomic works (cf. p. 736 f., note), as to which we are notnbsp;competent to judge. Affinities with Amenemope occur in other sections of thenbsp;Proverbs.

In cap. xxv-xxix the couplet is again the prevailing form.� Most commonly the second member expresses a comparison with the firstnbsp;(e.g. XXV. 2) ; but there is a good deal of variety. Most of the sentencesnbsp;are gnomes of Type Ila, though precepts are not rare. Occasionallynbsp;we find sentences relating even to animals and inanimate thingsnbsp;(Type lie), e.g. xxv. 23; but these are introduced, not for their ownnbsp;sake, as in Anglo-Saxon and Welsh gnomic poetry, but by way ofnbsp;comparison or as illustrations of gnomes relating to mankind (Type II a),nbsp;just as in the Havamal (cf. Vol. i, p. 386).

Cap. XXX is of a somewhat varied character. It consists largely of gnomic catalogues, not unlike those which occur in the Exeter and Cottonnbsp;gnomic poems and in the H�vam�l, st. 81 ff. (cf. Vol. i, pp. 380 f., 383).nbsp;They have also something in common with the catalogue riddles referred to ib. p. 414, and the Russian, Yugoslav and Indian compositions noticedin this volume (pp. 212, 410, 560!.). Many of thenbsp;gnomes contained in this chapter belong to Type lie.

Cap. xxxi consists in part (st. 2-9) of instructions to a king by his mother, chiefly on the avoidance of wine and on merciful treatment ofnbsp;the helpless. The rest of the chapter (st. 10-31) is an alphabetic poem,nbsp;occupied with a long description of the virtuous woman, with whichnbsp;may be compared the�much briefer�description of the queen givennbsp;in the Exeter gnomes (cf. Vol. i, p. 381).

As regards authorship, we find in i. i: �The proverbs of Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel��a title which belongs presumably tonbsp;cap. i�ix.� In x. i we find �The proverbs of Solomon�, which maynbsp;apply to the next section, down to xxii. 16. The section which followsnbsp;is introduced by the sentence (xxii. 17): �Incline thine ear, and hear thenbsp;words of the wise.� The short section xxiv. 23-34 begins with the wordsnbsp;�These also are sayings of the wise�, as noted above. Then, in xxv. i,nbsp;as an introduction to the next section we find: �These also are proverbsnbsp;of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah king of Judah copied out.�nbsp;Cap. XXX begins with �The words of Agur the son of Jakeh; thenbsp;oracle (or �burden�)�. Cap. xxxi begins with �The words of Kingnbsp;Lemuel; the oracle (or �burden�) which his mother taught him�.

Nothing is known of the persons mentioned in the last two chapters,� which are perhaps to be regarded as supplements to the Book. The remaining sections�or rather collections�are attributed to Solomon,

' From stylistic grounds some scholars separate xxviii f. from xxv-xxvii. They think that xxviii f. is derived in part from the same collection as x-xv.

� Some scholars, however, take these words as syntactically connected with the following sentence, and not as a title claiming Solomon�s authorship.

736 except the two short sections included in xxii. i6-xxiv, which are referred to �the wise�. But it is generally agreed, we believe, by modernnbsp;scholars that this attribution is to be taken in the same sense as thenbsp;attribution of the Psalms to David. Solomon was traditionally famednbsp;for his wisdom; in I Kings iv. 32 ff. he is credited with the compositionnbsp;of three thousand �proverbs�, as well as a thousand and five songs andnbsp;much lore relating to natural history. It is not unnatural thereforenbsp;that anonymous collections of gnomic poetry should be attributednbsp;to him.

Cap. i-ix are generally thought to be later than x-xxii. 16, and perhaps composed as an introduction to the latter. Cap. xxv-xxix arenbsp;also believed by some scholars to belong to the older stratum, thoughnbsp;others date them later than cap. i-ix. The differences in date are notnbsp;thought to be great. Cap. xxii (from st. i7)-xxiv are generally referrednbsp;to about the same period, whether earlier or later than cap. i-ix. Indeed,nbsp;except for the last two chapters (xxx f.) and a few short passages elsewhere, no great differences in date seem to be proposed, as between thenbsp;various sections of the Book. But there! s a very remarkable differencenbsp;of opinion as to the period in which it was composed�a differencenbsp;greater perhaps than in regard to any other work in the Old Testament.nbsp;Some scholars, as we have seen, believe the whole�with the few exceptions just noted�to date from the period of kingship, while othersnbsp;attribute it to the third century, or perhaps rather the period betweennbsp;350 and 250 B.c.

As mentioned above, some of the arguments which have been adduced in support of the late dating seem to us by no means convincing. It isnbsp;surely unnecessary to attribute to Greek influence either the cultivationnbsp;of gnomic poetry or the esteem for �wisdom�, which is indeed virtuallynbsp;implied in such poetry. The references given in Vol. i. Ch. xii, will benbsp;perhaps sufficient to show how widely poetry of this kind was cultivated in ancient Europe. F or the latter idea we may refer to the H�vam�l,nbsp;which otherwise also has numerous elements in common with thenbsp;Proverbs. On the other hand the absence or rareness of gnomes in thenbsp;early prophets cannot prove that gnomic composition was unknown,nbsp;but only that it was not cultivated in prophetic circles. It would indeednbsp;be a remarkable fact if such literature was unknown in a people whichnbsp;had attained the civilisation and intellectual development of Israel in thenbsp;kingly period.^ But the cultivation of prophecy and of gnomic literature

* In addition to the European material discussed in Vol. I, we may refer to the early Indian evidence noticed in this volume, p. 5 50 ff. For Egypt there is far more

may well have belonged to different circles? The frequent references in the Proverbs to town life and to trade may possibly give a clue to theirnbsp;original provenance, though we are by no means certain. In any casenbsp;they are not incompatible with an origin in the eighth or seventhnbsp;century.

A further objection to the antiquity of the Proverbs is based on the use of the words �wise� and �wisdom�. It is said that these words havenbsp;no philosophical sense attached to them in the Old Testament, except innbsp;the �Wisdom books� and a few Psalms. We cannot claim to speak withnbsp;authority on this question; but it seems to us very doubtful if the characteristic denoted by the word �wise� {h�k�m} in the Proverbs differsnbsp;from the characteristic which it denotes in Jerem. viii. 8 f. and xviii. 18,nbsp;or in II Sam. xiv. 2 and xx. 16. To take the word as referring to politicalnbsp;sagacity in the former passages and cleverness in ordinary affairs in thenbsp;latter appears to us arbitrary. In all these passages, just as in the Proverbs, the word surely has a half-technical sense. The �wise� are thosenbsp;who have acquired not only knowledge but also the power of expressingnbsp;it, especially, it would seem, in the form of generalisations. The qualification for which the �wise� woman is chosen in II Sam. xiv. 2 isnbsp;evidently rhetorical skill; and we may doubtless assume the same in (zi5.)nbsp;XX. 16. �The wise� referred to by Jeremiah have obviously attained anbsp;reputation for sagacity�we do not see why this should be limited tonbsp;political sagacity�but they are not likely to have attained this reputationnbsp;by silence.

Rhetoric is intimately connected with gnomic poetry, if not essential to it. According to the Hdvamdl, st. 103, a man who wishes to be a greatnbsp;sage must cultivate speech, as well as memory. But there are of coursenbsp;different kinds of rhetoric. The rhetoric usually employed by the prophetsnbsp;is of an emotional type, very different from the reflective, generalising,nbsp;character found in the �Wisdom books�. But the gnomic type is notnbsp;unknown even to the earliest prophets; we may cite Amos iii. 9 ff.,nbsp;Hosea viii. 7, x. 13, Is. i. 3.� Jeremiah himself (xxxi. 29) quotes a gnomenbsp;current in his day (cf. Ezek. xviii. 2), though he seems to have no greatnbsp;ancient evidence; cf. Erman, Literature of the Ancient Egyptians, p. 54 ff. The earliestnbsp;gnomic compositions, including the �Instructions of Ptahhotep�, seem to date fromnbsp;the third millennium. The nearest resemblance to the Proverbs is shown by thenbsp;�Teaching of Amenemope�; but unfortunately there is great difference of opinionnbsp;as to the date of this work�some scholars attributing it to the tenth century (ornbsp;even much earlier) and others to the seventh, the sixth, or even the fourth century.

respect for this kind of learning. The passage in I Kings iv. 32 f./ which describes Solomon�s wisdom, may probably be taken as evidence fornbsp;the existence of �natural history� gnomes (Type lie), traditionallynbsp;attributed to Solomon. The speeches of the two ladies given in II Sam.nbsp;xiv and xx cannot strictly be described as gnomic, though the formernbsp;uses two gnomes; but they reflect a similar kind of wisdom. We neednbsp;not doubt therefore that such wisdom and rhetoric were cultivated innbsp;the times of the kingship.

It would perhaps not be well to attach too much importance to the title of Prov. xxv, in which Hezekiah�s men are said to have copied outnbsp;the following proverbs; but we cannot allow that there is any truenbsp;analogy between this title and the titles prefixed to certain Psalms,nbsp;explaining the circumstances under which they were composed. Psalmsnbsp;were attributed to David in the same way as proverbs to Solomon; andnbsp;when David�s authorship had come to be accepted, it was not unnaturalnbsp;for scholars to speculate upon the circumstances of their composition.nbsp;But the reference to Hezekiah�s scribes cannot be explained in this way.nbsp;There seems to be good reason for believing that Hezekiah�s age was anbsp;time when much oral tradition was committed to writing; and if thenbsp;collection contained in Prov. xxv-xxix is so old, the statement containednbsp;in the title is likely enough to be true. But what reason could scholarsnbsp;of the Hellenistic period have had for inventing such a statement.^ Wenbsp;know of no evidence which would suggest that they thought ofnbsp;Hezekiah�s reign as a time of special literary activity.

Apart from the objections noticed above,� which seem to us unsound, the antiquity of the Proverbs is rejected by some scholars on the groundnbsp;of their literary connections, more especially with the Book of Bennbsp;Sirach. This is a question which must be left to experts. But if thenbsp;evidence is really decisive�and we gather that there is considerablenbsp;difference of opinion on this point�we think that extensive use mustnbsp;have been made of earlier collections. We find it difficult to believe thatnbsp;gnomic poetry was not cultivated before the Hellenistic or Persiannbsp;periods. The evidence for Egyptian connections seems to be muchnbsp;more definite; but their nature is not quite clear.

' Whatever may be the date of this passage, the latter part of it cannot be derived from the Proverbs as we have them.

� It is impossible of course for us to enter into all the arguments. Thus objection has been raised on the ground that idolatry is not referred to; but the Proverbs arenbsp;not primarily concerned with religion. The frequent references to kings would seemnbsp;to be of more significance.

After the �Wisdom books� gnomic poetry is best represented in the Psalms. Unfortunately the literary history of the Psalms is more obscurenbsp;even than that of the Proverbs. The present tendency is to date them asnbsp;late as possible. We have a suspicion that many of them may have had anbsp;longer history than can be decided from the existing texts; but we arenbsp;not prepared to discuss the question. The gnomic Psalms are commonlynbsp;believed to be among the latest in the collection. Here we will refer onlynbsp;to one passage, Ps. xlix. 4. This psalm is commonly attributed to thenbsp;Hellenistic period, and the passage referred to is thought by somenbsp;scholars to be a still later addition. The poem as a whole is not strictlynbsp;gnomic in form; but its affinities are with this kind of poetry, and itnbsp;contains a number of gnomes. But the feature to which we would callnbsp;attention is that it seems to be intended for accompaniment on the lyre.nbsp;On the other hand, in spite of its title, it does not give the impression ofnbsp;having been composed primarily for liturgical use.�

Probably the earliest gnomic collections contained in the Old Testament are those which are preserved in the Book of Exodus. The �Ten Commandments � (cap. xx) are gnomic precepts. The Laws also, whichnbsp;follow (cap. xxi ff.) are largely gnomic in form�either precepts ornbsp;gnomes of Type la and b. All this matter is said to be derived from E,nbsp;which is commonly believed to have been written in the northern kingdom, hardly later than the middle of the eighth century.� The commandments contained in cap. xxxiv are precepts of a religious or ritual character, akin to gnomes of Type \b. These are believed to come from J, andnbsp;are generally thought to be earlier than the commandments in cap. xx.nbsp;It may be observed, however, that both these collections are of somewhat different character from the collections of gnomic poetry foundnbsp;in the Proverbs. The latter contain numerous precepts, usually much expanded; but the prevailing type of gnome, as we have seen, is Type II.

II. In the � descriptive � category early Hebrew literature possesses one account for which we have not been able to find any parallel in thenbsp;literatures previously discussed. This is the account of Solomon�snbsp;temple and palaces given in I Kings vi f. It is commonly thought to benbsp;derived from the �Book of the Acts of Solomon�, mentioned ib.

' The opening may be compared with the first stanza of the V�luspd, where the introductory formula seems to be derived from that of a formal address. Withnbsp;st. 3 f. we may also compare the beginning of the Exeter gnomic poem, though thenbsp;latter suggests derivation from a dialogue form.

� Some scholars, however, regard the Ten Commandments as a late addition to E�much later than the Laws; cf. Lods, Israel, p. 315 f.

The descriptions of buildings and localities which we have met with in other early literatures seem to be either imaginary or typical. Butnbsp;such can hardly be the case here, though the wealth of the buildingsnbsp;may be much exaggerated. Later chapters, in I and II Kings, containnbsp;frequent references to changes, spoliations and renovations of thesenbsp;buildings, which presuppose a knowledge of some such description. Thesenbsp;references are presumably derived from records or traditions of thenbsp;temple; and the lost �Acts� themselves may have had the same origin.nbsp;The interest would seem to be primarily antiquarian, but inspired by anbsp;desire not so much to explain the origin of the buildings as to celebratenbsp;their magnificence in the past. We find it difficult to believe that such annbsp;account could have been preserved by oral tradition in anything like itsnbsp;present form. On the other hand it gives the impression of having beennbsp;composed while the buildings were still standing, or at least clearlynbsp;remembered. It is of considerable interest in the history of art; difficultnbsp;as it is to follow, at least in a translation, it seems to show featuresnbsp;resembling those of Greek art in the Geometrical and Orientalisingnbsp;periods. We may hope that before long excavation will be able to thrownbsp;light both on the credibility of the account and on the age of the buildingsnbsp;and objects which it describes.

Descriptions of typical persons and scenes, such as we have found in other early literatures, are not rare in Hebrew; but they are usually shortnbsp;and of uncertain date. One of the longest is the description of thenbsp;virtuous woman in Prov. xxxi. 10 S�. : this may be compared with certainnbsp;Indian poems noticed above (p. 557) and with some of the Europeannbsp;examples referred to in Vol. i, p. 407 f. It is clearly a product of writtennbsp;literature; but it might date from a time when the writing of poems wasnbsp;still regarded as an accomplishment in which the author could take anbsp;good deal of pride.

The first part of the Proverbs (cap. i-ix) contains a number of descriptive pieces relating to Wisdom, which is personified. Thus innbsp;iii. 13 IT. we find a short poetical description of the blessings which Wisdom gives. Two other passages are speech poems, in which Wisdom isnbsp;the speaker. In i. 20 S. she declares the troubles which men incur bynbsp;neglecting her. In cap. viii she describes her nature and properties atnbsp;some length, and speaks of the advantages which will be gained bynbsp;listening to her. We may compare the Vedic poems referred to onnbsp;p. 556. Apart from these there are a few short descriptions of typical

characters, such as we have found in other literatures. We may instance the �strange woman� in v. 3 IF. and the �foolish woman� in ix. 13 ff. Thenbsp;former passage is followed by a discourse on the advisability of avoidingnbsp;such persons. In vii. 6 If. there is a longer passage dealing with a similarnbsp;character; but this is mainly occupied with a speech, and will be noticednbsp;in the next section. In vi. 6 ff. there is a very brief description of the ant;nbsp;but this is given not for its intrinsic interest, but as a moral againstnbsp;idleness.

In the other sections of the Proverbs descriptive passages are rare and brief. We may, however, notice the description of the sad end of thenbsp;idler in xxiv. 30 if., which is followed by the same stanza as the passagenbsp;last cited. In xxiii. 29 if. there is a passage which is practically a description of the drunkard, though it is not expressed in the usual form of suchnbsp;descriptions. Lastly it may be noted that the latter part of cap. xxxnbsp;consists largely of what may be called gnomic catalogues, somewhatnbsp;similar to those which we have quoted in Vol. i, p. 418 if.

The Psalms also contain a number of descriptive passages, though we do not know what period they date from. Among these we may note thenbsp;long description of nature which occupies the greater part of Ps. civ.�nbsp;But perhaps the most striking picture is that of the storm-tossed sailorsnbsp;in cvii. 23 if. Brief pictorial similes are not rare. We may instancenbsp;cxxiv. 7, where Israel is compared to a bird which has escaped from anbsp;trap, and xix. 4 f., where the sun is compared to a bridegroom.

In the early prophets examples of detailed description are not very common. In the collection of prophecies ascribed to Isaiah we may instance (iii. 16 if.) the description of the ladies of Jerusalem and theirnbsp;finery; and so also (xxviii. 23 if.) the work of the ploughman, andnbsp;(v. 26 if.) the approach of the invading army. Ideal conditions, whennbsp;vicious animals shall become harmless, are sketched in xi. 6 if. In v. i if.nbsp;there is a metaphorical description of a vineyard�representing thenbsp;nation�which will yield only wild grapes. With this we may comparenbsp;Hosea�s account of his wife (ii. 5 if.), which is in part descriptive, thoughnbsp;the metaphor, if such it can be called, is not consistently adhered to.nbsp;Brief descriptions, occupying only a verse or two, are more frequent.nbsp;We may cite the ideal picture of peace in Micah iv. 3 f., part of whichnbsp;occurs also in Is. ii. 4. Most of the instances, however, are similes, e.g.nbsp;Amos ii. 13, iii. 12, v. 24, ix. 13, or metaphors which may be taken as

* It has often been remarked that this psalm shows a striking resemblance to the Hymn to the Sun {Aten) found at El Amarna; transi, in Erman, op. cit. p. 289 ff. andnbsp;in various other works. We cannot discuss the question of literary relationship.

similes, e.g. Hosea x. i, ii. In Is. xxxi. 4 the simile, brief as it is, has some resemblance to the similes of the Iliad. But very often it is difficult to make out whether such descriptions are intended as similes or asnbsp;statements of actual occurrences. We may refer e.g. to the series ofnbsp;visions recorded in Amos vii. 1-9, viii. i ff. We believe that these arenbsp;usually interpreted as actual visions; and it is true that the vision innbsp;ix. I ff., which seems to belong to the same series, can hardly be interpreted as a simile�at least not in the same sense as the others. But thenbsp;prophets were obviously imaginative persons; and we are not clear hownbsp;far they distinguished between actual experiences and figures of speech.

The Song of Songs contains a good deal of descriptive matter; but it belongs more properly to the next section�if indeed it comes withinnbsp;the scope of our work at all.

Riddles seem to be of rare occurrence in early Hebrew literature. The only instance which we can recall is that which Samson proposes to hisnbsp;Philistine guests in Judg. xiv. 14. But we have little doubt that theynbsp;were cultivated. The wisdom of the Proverbs has something in common with riddle-wisdom�a combination of knowledge or observationnbsp;with rhetorical skill. Some sentences indeed look like answers to riddles;nbsp;we may cite especially xxx. 15 f. The same seems to be true of thenbsp;wisdom traditionally attributed to Solomon. The � hard questions � askednbsp;by the Queen of Sheba (I Kings x. i ff.) may mean something in thenbsp;nature of riddles; the same word Q�d�li) is used.

III. Saga relating to unspecified individuals occurs in more than one form. We may first take the fictitious story, which is composed for anbsp;purpose. An early example of this is to be found in the story told bynbsp;Nathan to David (II Sam. xii. i ff.) of the rich man who robbed thenbsp;poor man of his only lamb. The story is invented to bring home to thenbsp;king the character of his dealings with Uriah. A variant form of thisnbsp;type of story is told in the first person, as an experience of the narrator.nbsp;We may instance the story told by the wise woman of Tekoa {ib.nbsp;xiv. 5 ff.), which is invented at Joab�s instigation, in order to inducenbsp;David to relent from his treatment of Absalom.

Next we may take stories which are not represented as fictitious. Among these may be included the narrative of the Levite and his concubine who was mishandled by the men of Gibeah, found in Judg. xix ff.nbsp;The only person mentioned by name is Phinehas, son of Eleazar (xx. 28) ;nbsp;but he plays no part in the story, and this passage has the appearance of anbsp;scribal addition. The story itself�or at least the account of the war to

which it leads�is difficult to believe, unless it has been very greatly-exaggerated. Yet it would seem to have been current even in Hosea�s time, and to have been regarded by him as an important landmark in thenbsp;national history. At all events this appears to be the most likely interpretation of Hosea x. 9, though other explanations have been proposed.

Another instance may be found in the story, told in I Kings xiii, of the prophet who came from Judah to Beth-el, to prophesy the profanation ofnbsp;the sanctuary by Josiah. This story, it is true, is not wholly nameless;nbsp;for Jeroboam, the founder of the northern kingdom, is said to have beennbsp;present, and to have had his hand injured, and subsequently healed atnbsp;the prophet�s intercession. But no name is given to either of the prophetsnbsp;who play the chief parts in the story. In its present form the story mustnbsp;of course date from a time at least three centuries after Jeroboam�s reign.nbsp;As to its origin, the resemblance between the first part of it and thenbsp;incident related in Amos vii. 10 ff. is obvious enough, though mostnbsp;scholars, we believe, are inclined to regard it as merely accidental. Innbsp;both cases the scene is laid in the sanctuary of Beth-el, and the prophetnbsp;comes from Judah. The two kings have the same name, though onenbsp;lived more than a century and a half after the other. It is true thatnbsp;Jeroboam II is not present at the incident related in Amos, though he,nbsp;or at least his family, is involved in it. If the two stories were originallynbsp;identical, we must assume that the king and the priest have been amalgamated in the story of the nameless prophet; and this is the kind ofnbsp;simplification to which stories preserved by oral tradition are liable. Wenbsp;must also assume that the story was preserved and developed in circlesnbsp;where Amos� prophecies were not known, except by a vague report.nbsp;As to the fate of the prophet on his return journey we are without information in Amos� case; possibly this incident might be due to the influence of folktale. On the whole then we are inclined to regard thenbsp;identification as possible, but no more than a possibility. If it is true itnbsp;affords an interesting illustration of the growth of the nameless type ofnbsp;story.

Stories wholly or mainly derived from folktales are not easy to demonstrate. The story of the �Fall of Man� (Gen. iii) seems to belongnbsp;to this class, though its original form is not clear (cf. p. 709 f.). Itsnbsp;affinities are widespread; but it is probably of Mesopotamian rather thannbsp;Hebrew origin. Apart from the Mesopotamian element in the earlynbsp;chapters in Genesis, traces of folktales are apparently to be found onlynbsp;in the stories of characters, historical or unhistorical, who are known tonbsp;us in other connections; and it is generally questionable whether these

stories are not influenced by folktales, rather than folktales transferred in toto. The stories in which elements of folktales seem to be mostnbsp;prominent are those of Samson. It may be noted that for one of hisnbsp;exploits-�his single-handed slaughter of a host of Philistines�(Judg.nbsp;XV. 15 if.) analogies are to be found in incidents related of other Israelitenbsp;heroes with somewhat similar names (j.b. iii. 31 ; II Sam. xxiii. 11 f.).

Timeless nameless poems of Type B, i.e. speeches in character by unspecified individuals (cf. pp. 223 ff., 402 if., 562), seem to be rare.nbsp;We have not found any instances in the early prophets; and those whichnbsp;occur in the Psalms and the Proverbs are as a rule very short, e.g.nbsp;Ps. liii. I. Occasionally, however, we meet with a longer passage of thisnbsp;kind, as in Prov. vii. 14 flquot;., where after an introduction, partly narrativenbsp;and partly descriptive, the speech of the harlot is given at some length.

The Song of Songs has been interpreted as a single piece of dramatic character, in which the principals are Solomon, a girl whom he isnbsp;courting, and a rival lover, apparently a shepherd. But now it is morenbsp;generally believed to be a collection of love-songs, or perhaps rathernbsp;wedding-songs, some of which are in the form of dialogues. There arenbsp;said to be wedding-songs now sung in Syria, just as in Russia (cf. p. 236),nbsp;in which the bridegroom is described as a king; and the name Solomonnbsp;is thought to be used in this sense. In that case the songs are to be regarded as belonging to the category now under discussion. The form isnbsp;that of Type B; but if they really belong to the celebration of socialnbsp;ritual, we should assign them rather to Type D (DB). The collection isnbsp;commonly believed to be very late, on linguistic grounds; but in poetrynbsp;of this kind the language may well be modernised. Indeed such poetrynbsp;may be traditional in its general form, though subject of course tonbsp;modification from time to time in detail; and we have therefore thoughtnbsp;fit to mention it here, though we are not able to discuss it at length. Itnbsp;may be noted that very similar poetry was cultivated in Egypt, apparentlynbsp;from c. B.c. 1300 onwards.�'

Poetry connected with the celebration of social or political ritual (Type D) seems to be preserved in some of the Psalms. Ps. xlv isnbsp;generally believed to have been composed for the wedding of a king.nbsp;But no individual names have been preserved; and consequently wenbsp;may perhaps infer that it was maintained in use for similar occasions.nbsp;Ps. Ixxii gives the impression of having been composed for use at thenbsp;inauguration of a king. We may compare the examples from the Rgveda

� Examples are given by Erman, op. cit. p. 242 ff.; Peet, Comparative Study of the Literatures of Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia, p. 92 ff.

referred to on p. 565. Ps. xxi would also seem to have been composed for some state occasion. The dating of all these poems is quite uncertain;nbsp;none of the suggestions which we have seen appear to us in any waynbsp;convincing. But we find it difficult to doubt that they have come downnbsp;from the age of kingship.

In conclusion a word may be said here with regard to fables. Stories of animals seem not to be represented in early Hebrew literature; but anbsp;good instance in which the characters are trees occurs in Judg. ix. 8 ff.nbsp;The fable is related by Jotham, son of Gideon, to the men of Shechemnbsp;with reference to their choice of Abimelech as king. It does not standnbsp;quite isolated; in II Kings xiv. 9 there is a passage which points tonbsp;familiarity with compositions of this kind. Amaziah, king of Judah,nbsp;has sent a challenge to Jehoash, king of Israel; and the latter replies bynbsp;referring to the dealings of a cedar and a thistle.

IN the foregoing chapters we have several times had occasion to notice that two passages are more or less identical or seem to be ofnbsp;common origin. Thus Micah iv. 1-3 is almost identical with Is. ii.

2-4, though in the former the prophecy is continued, while in the latter it stops short. The differences in this case are so slight that bothnbsp;passages may well be derived from a common MS. original, though thenbsp;prophecies are attribued to different authors. Among the other prophecies attributed to these prophets there are a number of examplesnbsp;which must be later than their times. The explanation generally given isnbsp;that single prophecies or short collections of prophecies were preservednbsp;in MSS. without indication of their authorship. In later times, when thisnbsp;was forgotten, they were attributed conjecturally to this or that prophet.nbsp;The Book of Isaiah has also incorporated a good deal of matter�including narratives and a poem of King Hezekiah (xxxviii. 10 ff.)�whichnbsp;is more or less closely connected with the prophet�s personal history.

It is instructive in this respect to compare the Books of Isaiah and Jeremiah. Considerably less than half of the former can be the work ofnbsp;the prophet himself. On the other hand the latter contains few prophecies which are not generally admitted to be by Jeremiah, while evennbsp;the narratives seem to be either his work or that of persons closely connected with him. Jeremiah�s prophecies are not consistently arrangednbsp;in chronological order; but they are obviously much better preservednbsp;than those of the earlier prophets. Individual prophecies, and apparentlynbsp;also series of prophecies, were dictated by the author himself; and thenbsp;circumstances are often carefully recorded. The conditions of the timenbsp;were as unfavourable as possible; but the use of written literature wasnbsp;evidently much more advanced. Isaiah�s lifetime also falls within whatnbsp;we may call the literary period; but the recording of prophecies�andnbsp;presumably also other compositions�would seem to have been stillnbsp;more or less accidental. It is not certain that Isaiah himself wrote ornbsp;dictated any of his prophecies, though in a few cases the use of the firstnbsp;person suggests that he did so.

Passages which recur with slight variants, as in the example noted above, are very frequent in the Old Testament; and it is often difficultnbsp;to determine how they are to be explained. Where such parallels arenbsp;limited to a single stanza, and the context is unaffected, as in the Proverbs,nbsp;they may generally be ascribed to oral tradition. But how is one tonbsp;account for the relationship between (e.g.) Ps. xiv and Ps. liii, or betweennbsp;Ps. xviii and II Sam. xxii In the former case at least, so far as we can see,nbsp;the variants might be due to oral tradition. But other explanations arenbsp;possible. One text may come from a scribe who had no written copy,nbsp;and whose memory was defective. Or the variants may be due tonbsp;deliberate alteration�attempts to improve the poem. Or again�andnbsp;this case may be by no means rare�a scribe may know a poem innbsp;different forms, say from a MS. copy and from memory, and what henbsp;reproduces may be a compromise text.� Often, as perhaps in one ornbsp;both of the cases noted, the true explanation may be clear to those whonbsp;are familiar with the language and diction of Hebrew poetry. We havenbsp;not this knowledge, and can therefore do no more than call attention tonbsp;the problem.

In narrative prose variants would seem often to be due to deliberate change. It is generally agreed, we believe, that where the Chroniclesnbsp;and Kings have parallel accounts, the former are in the main dependentnbsp;upon the latter; yet differences in the wording are extremely frequent.nbsp;Sometimes, no doubt, the text of the Chronicles may be derived from annbsp;older and better text of Kings, and sometimes it gives additional information from other sources. But, apart from such cases, a comparison ofnbsp;the two texts seems to show that the compilers of the Chronicles did notnbsp;feel themselves bound to reproduce the text of the older work exactly.

An interesting problem is presented by the first chapter of Judges. One passage (12-15) is almost identical with Josh. xv. 16-19. Thenbsp;passages immediately preceding these, Judg. i. 10 f. and Josh. xv. 13-15,nbsp;likewise contain common elements; but they are far from identical�nbsp;indeed they contain statements which seem to be incompatible. Again, anbsp;subsequent passage (Judg. i. 20) is in partial agreement with Josh. xv.nbsp;13-15 (cf. ib. xiv. 6 ff., 13 ff.); but it seems to be incompatible with itsnbsp;own context (Judg. i. 10 f.). The same chapter also contains two othernbsp;short passages which are apparently irreconcilable with one another.nbsp;One (i. 8) says that �the children of Judah fought against Jerusalem,nbsp;and took it, and smote it with the edge of the sword, and set the city onnbsp;fire�; the other (i. 21) says that �the children of Benjamin did not drivenbsp;� As in the case of certain Norse poems, cf. Vol. i, p. 511.

out the Jebusites that inhabited Jerusalem; but the Jebusites dwelt with the children of Benjamin in Jerusalem unto this day�. The secondnbsp;passage is practically identical with Josh. xv. 63, with the noteworthynbsp;exception that the latter has in both cases �Judah� for �Benjamin�.nbsp;Further, it may be noted that i. 27 f. is practically identical in substance�nbsp;in part also in form�with Josh. xvii. 11-13, while i. 29 is in part identicalnbsp;with Josh. xvi. 10. The end of the chapter (i. 30 ff.) is similar in characternbsp;to i. 27-29, but has apparently no counterparts in Joshua.

The explanation usually given of this chapter is that it consists of fragments of an old account of the conquest of Canaan, traces of whichnbsp;are preserved also in Joshua. This account�which some believe to havenbsp;belonged to J�is thought to have differed materially from the accountnbsp;of the conquest which forms the main thread of Joshua; and its historicalnbsp;value is generally rated higher than that of the latter. This may benbsp;perfectly correct; but some of the passages noted above are inconsistentnbsp;with other passages in the chapter itself, as well as with passages innbsp;Joshua. Moreover the statement in i. 18 that Judah took Gaza, Ashkelon and Ekron must be regarded with some scepticism, though two ofnbsp;these cities are claimed for Judah also in Josh. xv. 45 ff. But we cannotnbsp;enter upon a discussion of these questions. Our object is to point out thenbsp;interest which the chapter possesses as an illustration of textual affinitiesnbsp;and discrepancies.

Variant forms of saga occur in the First Book of Samuel, as we have noticed above (p. 635). Certain stories of Elijah and Elisha likewisenbsp;would appear to have had a common origin (cf. p. 682). A still laternbsp;example is probably to be found in the two accounts of Sennacherib�snbsp;invasion given in II Kings xviii f. (cf. p. 663 f.).

Saga-variants seem also to be preserved in Genesis. The story of Abraham�s visit to Egypt in cap. xii, when he conceals the fact thatnbsp;Sarah is his wife, is clearly a variant of the story told in cap. xx, wherenbsp;the same patriarch visits Abimelech of Gerar: and Isaac�s visit tonbsp;Abimelech in xxvi. i-ii seems to be another variant of the same story.nbsp;The rest of cap. xxvi, recounting Isaac�s dealings with Abimelech, cannbsp;hardly be of different origin from xxi. 22-34, though an editorial attemptnbsp;has been made to distinguish between the two stories. Again, the twonbsp;stories related of Hagar, in cap. xvi. and in xxi. 9-21, are by no meansnbsp;identical as they stand; but they have so much in common that they maynbsp;well have originated as variants of one story.

It may be observed that among the variants just noted one version usually comes from J, and the other from E. In the first case J itself

749 preserves two variants, while the third (cap. xx) is from E; in the othernbsp;two cases one version comes from each of the two texts. It is of interestnbsp;to note that the first long section of Genesis which is believed to benbsp;derived from E, viz. cap. xx-xxii, consists mainly of narratives of whichnbsp;variants are found in J; only in cap. xxii does E preserve a narrativenbsp;which is not also found in J. There is good reason for believing that innbsp;the stories of the patriarchs E and J consisted largely of the same stories,nbsp;preserved independently by oral tradition, though variants sometimesnbsp;occurred in the same text. Similar instances of parallel versions are tonbsp;be found elsewhere in the Hexateuch, and not only in narratives. Thusnbsp;the account of the �Ten Commandments� in Ex. xxxiv is generallynbsp;believed to be a variant version (from J) of the account of the Ten Commandments contained in ib. xx (from E) ; and the variants are of such anbsp;kind as could only arise from oral tradition.

Such parallels are easily intelligible; we have seen that analogies are to be found in many lands. More frequently, however, the text which wenbsp;have, both in narratives and in other passages, is held to be due to anbsp;conflation of two (or more) versions�i.e. to be taken partly from J, andnbsp;partly from E, perhaps with additions from P also. This postulates anbsp;process of composition which is much more difficult to understand.nbsp;Analogies, more or less exact, for such a process are certainly to benbsp;found in chronicles and annals, e.g. in the Saxon Chronicle and innbsp;many Latin chronicles and annals belonging to the same period. Butnbsp;the Hexateuch has little or nothing in common with works of this kind.nbsp;Its chief constituents are stories of the saga type, often more or lessnbsp;detailed, and accounts of institutions. The former at least of thesenbsp;elements does not lend itself readily to the process which is postulated.

In our references to the Hexateuch in previous chapters we have, in accordance with general usage, regarded the principles of analysis andnbsp;the existence of the hypothetical texts, J, E, D and P as established,nbsp;though we have seldom had occasion to notice passages in which anbsp;minute analysis of the text is of essential importance. But we feelnbsp;bound to say here that we cannot view without considerable misgivingnbsp;such analyses as the following.� In Gen. xxxvii. i,i a are derived from P,nbsp;2^11, 19, 20, 22-24, 28a, 28C-30, 36 from E, 12-18, 21, 25-27, 28z^,nbsp;31-35 from J. Again, in Josh. iv. 1-3, 8, 20 are derived from one sourcenbsp;of JE, 4-7, 9-�ia, 18 from another source of the same, 13, 15-17, 19nbsp;from P, 11b, 12, 14, 21-24 from a Deuteronomic source. More or less

� The examples are taken from Driver, Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament, pp. 17, 105.

similar analyses are given for many other chapters. The principle upon which the existing text in such cases is believed to be constructed is thatnbsp;of the scrap-book, just as in annals and chronicles. But is it reallynbsp;probable that such a process was applied to narratives, and at what seemsnbsp;to have been an early phase in the history of written literature.^

The evidence upon which the analyses are based consists partly in the use of certain terms, especially J-h-v-h and Elohim, and partly in linguistic and stylistic characteristics of various kinds, of which none butnbsp;experts can judge, as well as in inconsistencies in the narratives. Arenbsp;these features not capable of any other explanation.� In other earlynbsp;literatures which are preserved in late texts inconsistent modernisation isnbsp;a frequent phenomenon. Sometimes also there seems to be reason fornbsp;suspecting that a scribe knew from memory a text different from thatnbsp;which he was copying.' And there may be other possibilities. But we cannbsp;do no more than express a feeling of doubt. We are quite ready tonbsp;believe that extracts from (say) E were copied into a text of J ; but thenbsp;�scrap-book� theory seems to us to present much greater difficulties.

The conflation of JE with P is perhaps easier to understand, since this must have taken place in much later times. The difficulty here seems tonbsp;us to lie rather in the character ascribed to P. It appears to be generallynbsp;agreed that P embraced the whole of the Hexateuch, though it hadnbsp;merely brief summaries or notices of many of the stories. But what wasnbsp;its origin.� It can hardly have been wholly independent of JE�ornbsp;perhaps we should say of both J and E.� From what is ascribed to it onenbsp;would gather that P was a body of antiquarian and priestly learningnbsp;which grew up round JE. Large portions of it indeed, in Exodus,nbsp;Leviticus, and Numbers, are such as might well have existed as separatenbsp;documents; but most of the shorter extracts, especially in Genesis, givenbsp;us the impression of editorial accretions and changes. Indeed personallynbsp;we should be inclined to doubt if many of the passages from P innbsp;Genesis are strictly of independent origin.3

� The prevailing opinion seems to be that where P covered the same ground as the older texts it originated as an epitome of JE, and that later it was utilised as a framework, into which extracts from JE were re-introduced. Apparently it is held that innbsp;the latter process the different texts were rigidly preserved. For this process alsonbsp;analogies might be found in works of the Dark Ages; but we do not know of anynbsp;parallels dating back to (say) 300 b.c. Are there any cuneiform or Egyptiannbsp;analogies.�

3 It is held that the text of P is sometimes preserved intact for long stretches, though numerous insertions from J and E may be introduced into it. A good ex-

Although we know that this view is contrary to the general opinion of Biblical scholars, we find it difficult to escape from the suspicion thatnbsp;the growth of the Hexateuch may have had something in commonnbsp;with that of the Mahabharata. In both cases the nucleus consists of anbsp;story or stories, preserved at first by oral tradition, and frequentlynbsp;showing variant accounts of incidents. The stories of the Hexateuch arenbsp;not heroic, and writing began here doubtless at a relatively earlier stagenbsp;than in the Mahabharata; but these differences are hardly essential. Innbsp;both cases the stories received in course of time voluminous accretionsnbsp;of didactic matter, both moral didactic and antiquarian didactic�represented in the Hexateuch by D and P respectively. The former wouldnbsp;seem to date mainly from the sixth century, and the latter from thenbsp;fifth and following centuries, though both may have begun somewhatnbsp;earlier. Indeed the growth of the Hexateuch, as also that of the Mahabharata, may well have been continuous. Both J and E were probablynbsp;committed to writing in the eighth century; but the resultant conflatenbsp;text contains much, especially in the story of Joseph,* which seems tonbsp;be not earlier than the seventh. We give these suggestions of coursenbsp;only for what they are worth. It is to be borne in mind throughout thatnbsp;writing began earlier in the Hexateuch, and also that this is a prosenbsp;work, while the Mahabharata is poetry. But all the evidence suggestsnbsp;that the text was not regarded as sacred or inviolable until a very latenbsp;period.

In Judges we have a collection of stories relating to the beginning of the historical period. Most of them have been heavily edited and tonbsp;ample is to be found in the story of Abraham (Gen. xii-xxv), in which there arenbsp;said to be about ten such insertions, some of them very long. But is this explanationnbsp;really necessary? We are ready to believe that almost all the passages ascribed to Pnbsp;in this analysis (including the whole of cap. xvii and xxiii) do really belong to thatnbsp;element. But we find it difficult to understand why the short passages are notnbsp;capable of being explained as editorial additions and alterations, coming from thenbsp;same element. P�whether it ever existed separately or not�is very fond of chronological calculations and of references to certain rites, such as circumcision. We donbsp;not see why (e.g.) xii. 4^ should not be due to editorial addition and xii. 5 tonbsp;editorial alteration (re-wording). Again, the complicated history of the textnbsp;postulated in xxi. 1-6 seems to us more difficult to believe than that P re-wrote thenbsp;passage in order to introduce the reference to circumcision and the calculation. Itnbsp;may be of course that we have not sufficiently appreciated the force of the linguisticnbsp;evidence; but we do not understand why the text should be regarded as so rigid.

� The Egyptian names in this story are said to belong to Dyn. XXVI, or not much earlier. The writer seems to know Egypt well. It is an interesting questionnbsp;whether he was influenced by Egyptian romances; but we are not able tonbsp;discuss this.

some extent expanded by a didactic writer. Similar elements are to be found in I Sam. i-xii; and it is believed by many scholars that thesenbsp;chapters, except cap. ix and parts of cap. x f., were originally attached tonbsp;Judg. xvi. The didactic (religious) element has something in commonnbsp;with Deuteronomic writings, but is usually thought to be slightlynbsp;earlier�perhaps the seventh century. Some scholars however, distinguish between earlier and later elements in the didactic matter itself; andnbsp;the former has been brought into connection with E of the Hexateuch.nbsp;The rest of I Samuel (beginning at cap. ix) and II Samuel consists ofnbsp;stories of Saul and David, some of which show religious influence,nbsp;which in the earlier chapters may be connected with the previous section. The bulk of the matter, however, is of secular interest and derivednbsp;from heroic saga. We cannot see any probability in the suggestion thatnbsp;this heroic matter is to be connected with J of the Hexateuch.

Some rearrangement has obviously taken place at the end of II Samuel. The narrative of I Kings i f. is a continuation of II Sam. xx; the chaptersnbsp;(xxi-xxiv) which follow the latter form an appendix, of heterogeneousnbsp;matter, which interrupts the sequence of the story. It is for textualnbsp;experts to decide when this rearrangement took place. The absencenbsp;of religious influence in II Samuel, apart from certain chapters, wouldnbsp;lead one to expect that the heroic matter was committed to writing innbsp;secular circles. But all that can be said with conviction is that the evidencenbsp;points to the palace or the temple at Jerusalem, between which thenbsp;relations were close. The next section of I Kings, cap. iii-x, seems to benbsp;derived from the lost Book of the Acts of Solomon, which was evidentlynbsp;a work of very different (antiquarian) character, but of the same provenance. The matter, however, unlike the story of David, has been subjected to a strong religious influence, which appears also throughout thenbsp;rest of Kings. In the following chapters most of the matter relates to thenbsp;northern kingdom and may have been cast into historical form there.nbsp;The interest is centred in prophets; and it would seem that the saga,nbsp;from which it is evidently derived, was current in prophetical circles.nbsp;But, as we have it this northern work has been converted into a � synchronous history��presumably after foreign models, but under strongnbsp;religious influence�and continued in Judah (doubtless Jerusalem)nbsp;down to the end of that kingdom. Oral tradition (saga) seems to benbsp;represented even for the time of Hezekiah.

� The question, we understand, depends to some extent upon the relations of the different Greek texts.

Saga must have been long and extensively cultivated, as we have seen; but there is hardly any evidence relating to its recitation or composition.nbsp;Indeed we cannot recall any reference to recitation for the sake of entertainment. The nearest instances we can think of are the passages (II Sam.nbsp;xii. I if., xiv. 4 if.) describing the fictitious stories told to David bynbsp;Nathan and the wise woman of Tekoa; but these are made up for thenbsp;purpose of admonishing the king, and produced apparently at privatenbsp;interviews. In stories of specified persons the nearest approach tonbsp;descriptions of saga is probably to be found in the story of Joseph,nbsp;especially Gen. xlii ff. ; and here the approximation is very close, thoughnbsp;the saga consists of first-hand reports of the speakers� experiences. Butnbsp;these again are informal. For formal recitation we know of no betternbsp;instance than the story of Jotham�s fable, related in Judg. ix. 7 ff. Thenbsp;fable is declaimed to the men of Shechem from the top of Mount Geri-zim; and in view of Deut. xi. 29, xxvii. ii f.. Josh. viii. 33 ff., the incident may perhaps reflect a custom followed by prophets or orators onnbsp;public occasions. The traditional phraseology found in such passages asnbsp;Ps. xliv. I, Ixxviii. 3, would also seem to point to a time when thenbsp;national traditions were recited, probably in a more or less formal style.

References to the recitation of poetry are more frequent and more specific. First we will take references to secular poetry. Minstrelsynbsp;seems to have been much cultivated. Amos (vi. 5) speaks of�idle songs�nbsp;sung to the sound of the viol among the practices which he denounces.nbsp;The context suggests that he is thinking of minstrelsy at feasts�presumably amorous songs like those contained in the Song of Songs andnbsp;perhaps �drinking-songs�, such as were current in Greece during thenbsp;seventh and sixth centuries. The same practice is referred to in Isaiahnbsp;xxiv. 8 f., and probably also in v. 12, though songs are not specificallynbsp;mentioned in the latter passage. In II Sam. xix. 35 it is implied thatnbsp;singing men and women performed at banquets in the king�s palace evennbsp;in David�s time. David himself is said to have been skilled in music (cf.nbsp;Amos vi. 5), and to have been brought to Saul�s court as a harpist (I Sam.nbsp;xvi. 16 ff.). It is not actually stated that he sang there; but this may benbsp;due to accident; for he was well known as a poet. In the same periodnbsp;heroic poetry of Type D, accompanied by dancing, is said to have beennbsp;cultivated by women {ib. xviii. 6 f.).

It is clear from the instances given above that music and minstrelsy were cultivated by both men and women. Evidence to the same effectnbsp;is supplied by Assyrian records. Sennacherib states that among the

� We may compare the passage relating to the Lithuanians quoted in Vol. i,p.6i7'

booty which he carried off from Judah were male and female musicians? The same devotion to minstrelsy seems to have characterised thenbsp;Phoenicians, possibly to an even greater degree. Isaiah (xxiii. i6)nbsp;pictures Tyre as a harlot going about the city with a harp and singingnbsp;many songs. So, at a later date, Ezekiel (xxvi. 13) speaks of the songs andnbsp;the harps of Tyre. Again, in the Egyptian story of Wenamon, which isnbsp;many centuries earlier�apparently before 1100�the prince of Byblosnbsp;has an Egyptian singing woman at his court.

Minstrelsy, however, was not limited to the lighter forms of entertainment and to heroic poetry of Type D. The harp could be used also doubtless as an accompaniment to laments, as is implied in Job xxx. 31.nbsp;And several passages in the Psalms, especially xlix. 4, suggest that itnbsp;was employed for gnomic or meditative poetry. But much more oftennbsp;we hear of it in hymns of praise�religious poems of Type D. Instancesnbsp;in the Psalms are frequent. In I Chron. xxv many persons are specifiednbsp;whose duty it was to sing to the harp in the Temple at Jerusalem. Andnbsp;in I Kings x. 12 Solomon is said to have provided harps for the singers,nbsp;whether in the Temple or the palace or perhaps both. The antiquity ofnbsp;these statements cannot be guaranteed�the former rests on very latenbsp;authority�but there is no need to doubt that music, both vocal andnbsp;instrumental, was in use for worship from early times. Amos (v. 23)nbsp;protests against the use of songs and viols at sacrifices. In II Sam. vi. 5nbsp;David and � all the house of Israel � play harps and other musical instruments, when they set out to bring the Ark from Baale-Judah to Jerusalem. The journey is interrupted; but when it is resumed (ib. 12 ff.)nbsp;David is said to be lightly clad and to dance with all his might in thenbsp;procession�for which he is subsequently reproved by his wife Michal.nbsp;In Ex. XV. 20 f., a passage which is believed to come from E, Miriamnbsp;and the women of Israel are said to celebrate the destruction of thenbsp;Egyptian host with timbrels and dancing; and she herself sings a hymnnbsp;of praise to Jehovah. There can be little doubt then that the Psalms,nbsp;however late they may be in their present form, represent a genre ofnbsp;poetry which was cultivated in the period of kingship, if not in stillnbsp;earlier times.

Poetry and music are also associated with prophecy. In I Sam. x. 5 f. Samuel tells Saul that when he comes to a certain place�which is notnbsp;clearly specified�he will meet with a band of prophets coming downnbsp;from the high place with a harp and other musical instruments, �andnbsp;they shall be prophesying; and the spirit of Jehovah will come mightilynbsp;* Cf. Johns, Ancient Assyria, p. 126.

755 upon thee, and thou shalt prophesy with them, and thou shalt be turnednbsp;into another man.� And so it comes to pass. Later in his life Saulnbsp;again has a similar experience, when he is pursuing David �ib. xix. 20 IF.).nbsp;All the messengers whom he sends begin to prophesy when they arrivenbsp;at Samuel�s abode and see the prophets prophesying. Then the kingnbsp;himself sets out, �and the spirit of God came upon him also.. .and henbsp;also stripped off his clothes, and he also prophesied before Samuel, andnbsp;lay down naked all that day and all that night �. What is meant here bynbsp;�prophesying� is not quite clear to us; but it evidently denotes somenbsp;effect of religious ecstasy. We may compare the description of David�snbsp;behaviour in II Sam. vi. 14 (see above), when he is bringing the Ark tonbsp;Jerusalem.

But the most interesting passage in this connection is II Kings iii. 15 ff. The kings of Israel, Judah and Edom have come to Elisha, begging himnbsp;to save their army, which is threatened with destruction through lack ofnbsp;water. After some hesitation he says: �Bring me a minstrel.� �Andnbsp;it came to pass, when the minstrel played, that the hand of Jehovahnbsp;came upon him.' And he said, �Thus saith Jehovah, Make this valleynbsp;full of trenches � �, etc. This is clearly in the nature of a spell, as we havenbsp;seen (p. 715). For the use of music in spells we have met with analogiesnbsp;elsewhere (cf. Vol. i, p. 6$i).

It cannot be assumed of course that even the earlier prophets, including Elisha himself and Elijah, regularly employed a musical form or musical accompaniment in their utterances. Most of the scenes in whichnbsp;these prophets are introduced are �conversation scenes�, and there isnbsp;nothing to suggest that they speak otherwise than in prose. It may be,nbsp;however, that in certain passages the absence of reference to music ornbsp;singing is due to the nature of our records. Those who were responsiblenbsp;for the final form of the stories may not have cared to notice such details.nbsp;In such a scene as that of the contest on Mount Carmel, described innbsp;I Kings xviii, one would have expected at least a poetic form for thenbsp;prophet�s utterances. In this connection we may refer to the story ofnbsp;Balaam, told in Numb, xxii ff. The seer Balaam has been summonednbsp;from afar by Balak, king of Moab, to curse the host of Israel. He tellsnbsp;the king on each occasion to build seven altars and offer sacrifices. Thennbsp;he goes apart by himself to obtain inspiration from Jehovah. On hisnbsp;return, each time he blesses the invading host, instead of cursing them.nbsp;There is no mention of instrumental music; but the blessings are declared in verse. In xxiv. 3 f., 15 f. the seer speaks of his vision of the

Almighty, apparently through a form of trance. Whatever may be the origin of this story, it goes back probably to the eighth century ornbsp;earlier, since it comes from JE; and it may presumably be taken asnbsp;representing a rite either practised at that time or at least known fromnbsp;tradition.

The prophecies of the pre-literary prophets, as recorded in the Books of Kings, are usually addressed to kings; but those of the �literary�nbsp;prophets seem as a rule to be intended for the general public. It isnbsp;generally agreed, we believe, that the latter also were spoken before�nbsp;perhaps long before�they were written down; but we are seldom informed of the time, place, circumstances or manner of their delivery.nbsp;Though printed as prose in the English translation (R.V.)�which hasnbsp;been much blamed for so doing�the prophecies are usually in poeticnbsp;form; and this doubtless accounts to some extent for the extravagance ofnbsp;the language. But there is nothing to suggest that they were accompaniednbsp;by music. They would seem to be rather in the nature of public speeches.nbsp;On one occasion, or more, Amos (vii. 12 ff.) evidently prophesied innbsp;the sanctuary of Beth-el, like the nameless prophet in I Kings xiii. i if., ifnbsp;this is not an account of the same incident, preserved by popular tradition. Otherwise his prophecies seem to supply no evidence bearingnbsp;upon this question; and the same is true of those of Hosea and Micah.*nbsp;Even from Isaiah we learn little, except in passages which describe hisnbsp;interviews with kings.

Much information, however, is given by Jeremiah. This prophet of course lived at a time when writing was in general use; he himself hadnbsp;his prophecies written down from dictation. But it is clear that many ofnbsp;them were uttered as speeches, and sometimes the circumstances arenbsp;vividly described. Thus in vii. 2 it is stated that he is to speak to all thenbsp;men of Judah in the gate of the Temple; in xi. 6 �in the cities of Judahnbsp;and in the streets of Jerusalem�; in xvii. 19 in the gates of Jerusalem.nbsp;From xvi. 10 it appears that his prophecies were likely to be questionednbsp;by his audiences, while in xiv. 13 ff. we hear of other prophets, who werenbsp;strongly opposed to him. Disputations with opponents are referred tonbsp;in xviii. 18. In cap. xix he summons the elders of the people and thenbsp;elders of the priests to the valley of Topheth, and prophesies to them impending disaster�prophecies which he repeats later in the court of thenbsp;Temple. For this he is imprisoned (xx. i f.) for a day by the chief officernbsp;of the Temple. In xx. 7 ff. he complains that he is mocked and denounced

� Jeremiah (xxvi. 18 f.), however, preserves a notice relating to Micah (Micaiah), to which we shall refer below (p. 757).

757 by everyone. In xxiii. 9 ff. he again attacks the prophets and priests.nbsp;In cap. xxvi he stands in the court of the Temple and addresses hisnbsp;prophecies to those who come from the cities of Judah to worshipnbsp;there. The priests arrest him and wish to have him put to death; but thenbsp;princes intervene on his behalf. From many passages in the latter half ofnbsp;the collection it is plain that Jeremiah�s activities were very largely of anbsp;political character. He advocates a definite policy�that of submissionnbsp;to Babylon�which was opposed to that of the government. On thenbsp;other hand he is strongly anti-Egyptian, both in the days of Jehoiakimnbsp;(cap. xlvi) and after the fall of Jerusalem (cap. xlii ff.). In cap. xxvii henbsp;even approaches the envoys of foreign powers in Jerusalem, tellingnbsp;them to advise their kings to submit to Nebuchadnezzar. Eventually henbsp;is arrested as a traitor and imprisoned; but when Jerusalem is capturednbsp;by the Babylonians, he is set free and treated with honour by expressnbsp;orders from Nebuchadnezzar.

For the earlier prophets our information is far less full and definite than for Jeremiah; but we see no reason for doubting that their activitiesnbsp;were carried on in much the same way, especially by speeches in publicnbsp;places. In the case of Micah indeed we have the evidence of Jerem.nbsp;xxvi. 17 ff., where it is stated that, when an attack is made upon Jeremiah, certain of the elders of the land quoted Micah iii. 12 and said thatnbsp;these words were spoken by that prophet �to all the people of Judah�.nbsp;They add that Hezekiah and �all Judah�, far from wishing to put Micahnbsp;to death, had been persuaded by his preaching. The earlier prophetsnbsp;were perhaps not quite so outspokenly political in their activities asnbsp;Jeremiah, so far as we can judge from their remains. But it is clear thatnbsp;Isaiah and Hosea share the later prophet�s aversion to foreign alliances.nbsp;In particular opposition to reliance upon Egypt seems to be a constantnbsp;element in their policy; we may refer especially to Is. xxx. i ff., xxxi. i ff.

The use of a poetical form in political speeches seems to us strange; but it can be paralleled in Greece during the same period, or not muchnbsp;later. Tyrtaios and Solon are the Greek counterparts of the Hebrewnbsp;poets, though the religious element is less prominent in their poems. Innbsp;both cases we are concerned with �post-heroic� conditions. Kings,nbsp;where they survive, can no longer act wholly according to their ownnbsp;will. In Jerem. xxviii. 5 Zedekiah admits to the princes that he can donbsp;nothing against them; and again (ib. 14 ff.) he interviews Jeremiahnbsp;privately and begs him not to disclose the subject of their conversation.nbsp;Under such conditions appeals to the public became almost as importantnbsp;as in Greece. The question why the appeals were made in poetry�

758 whether for mnemonic convenience or rhetorical effect or other reasonsnbsp;�must for the present be deferred. In any case poetry probably gavenbsp;more scope for the treatment of the emotional element.

Public speeches in prose are of course by no means unknown. Numerous examples are attributed to Moses, Joshua, Samuel, and othernbsp;leaders of the past. All of these doubtless date from times much laternbsp;than those to which they are assigned. Some of them, e.g. Samuel�snbsp;speeches in I Sam. viii. ii ff. and xii, show post-heroic characteristics;nbsp;the latter may be compared with Solon�s political poems (cf. Vol. i,nbsp;p. 356 f.). It is uncertain indeed whether any of them are as old as thenbsp;times of the early prophets, at least in their present form. Most of thenbsp;examples at all events are generally believed to be derived from latenbsp;sources; and there is no doubt that this form of composition was muchnbsp;cultivated in late times. One cannot safely assume, however, that prosenbsp;oratory was wholly a product of the times of written literature.�

� Norse sagas frequently speak of such oratory at public meetings during the Viking Age. The evidence is not strictly contemporary; but we see no reason fornbsp;discrediting it. A good example may be found in the account of the assembly atnbsp;Upsala given in St Olaf�s Saga (Heitnskr.), cap, 80 f.

SECULAR poetry was evidently cultivated both by professional minstrels and singers and also by persons of various ranks fromnbsp;the king downwards. It was as court musician that David firstnbsp;entered Saul�s service, though he was already known as a warrior (I Sam.nbsp;xvi. 18 if.). The story does not actually state that he sang to the harp;nbsp;but in view of his fame as a poet later this may be an accidental omission.nbsp;He continued to compose elegies (e.g. for Abner) after he became king;nbsp;and it is unlikely that he would have acquired his reputation as anbsp;psalmist unless he also cultivated religious poetry.

In I Kings iv. 32, Solomon is said to have composed a thousand and five songs. The context suggests that he cultivated descriptive poetry.nbsp;In Isaiah xxxviii. 9 ff., a religious poem, evidently intended for accompaniment on the harp (jb. 20), is attributed to Hezekiah. Its authenticitynbsp;is doubted; but the passage may at least be taken as evidence that thenbsp;cultivation of minstrelsy by a king was not regarded as strange.

We are uncertain whether we should mention here the �Blessings� attributed to the patriarchs Isaac and Jacob in Gen. xxvii. 27 if., 39 f.,nbsp;and xlix. May they be taken as evidence for the cultivation of poetry ofnbsp;this kind by leading men The patriarchs have a semi-religious character ;nbsp;but these poems themselves are not primarily religious.

In I Sam. xviii. 6 f., when Saul and David return from their victory over the Philistines, they are met by women, who come out of the citiesnbsp;dancing and singing with instruments of music. Their songs are obviously heroic poems of Type D; but it is not clear whether the womennbsp;were professional minstrels. In II Sam. xix. 35 we hear of singing mennbsp;and women who perform at David�s feasts, and who are presumablynbsp;professionals. The subjects of their songs are not stated; but it is likelynbsp;that they were, in part at least, heroic. In Numb. xxi. 27 if. a quotationnbsp;is given from a poem, evidently heroic (Type D), on the victories ofnbsp;Sihon, king of the Amorites, who is referred to a much earlier period.nbsp;The quotation is introduced by the words � they that speak in proverbsnbsp;say�. If the expression used here (jnosl�rn) really means �reciters of

poetry�/ it would seem on the whole probable, though not certain, that professional reciters are intended.

The use of minstrelsy at convivial gatherings is frequently referred to by the prophets, as we have seen. Sometimes, as in Amos vi. 5, the banqueters themselves sing and play; but as a rule it is not stated who thenbsp;entertainers were. This kind of minstrelsy was evidently widespread. Itnbsp;is referred to in Gen. xxxi. 27; and it was evidently cultivated in Tyrenbsp;(cf. Ezek. xxvi. 13), as well as in Israel and Judah. Amorous songs ofnbsp;women are alluded to by Isaiah xxiii. 16, where again the reference is tonbsp;Tyre. From the same prophet (xvi. 10) we hear of vintage-songs, whichnbsp;may have been similar to those current in ancient Greece (cf. II. xviii.nbsp;570 ff.)-

Lastly, it may be repeated that evidence for professional minstrelsy at the close of the eighth century is supplied by the records of Sennacherib. Male and female musicians were among the spoils which henbsp;carried off from Judah.� But we have no reason for supposing thatnbsp;minstrelsy was limited to such persons. On the contrary all the evidencenbsp;tends to show that it was very widely cultivated, and by both men andnbsp;women. And in this connection it may be noted that there is earlynbsp;evidence for the cultivation also of religious poetry and minstrelsy bynbsp;women, as well as by men. We may instance the �Song of Deborah�nbsp;(Judg. v), the �Song of Miriam� (Ex. xv. 21) and the �Song of Hannah�nbsp;(I Sam. ii). These, however, will require notice below.

No information seems to be preserved with respect to the composers or reciters of saga. This is the more remarkable in view of its widenbsp;distribution and the high artistic level which it frequently attains. Thenbsp;evidence suggests that it was much and carefully cultivated in bothnbsp;secular and religious circles. But we are practically dependent uponnbsp;inferences from the stories themselves.

The only stories, so far as we know, for which there is any direct evidence for authorship, are the two fictitious narratives related to Davidnbsp;in II Sam. xii. i ff. and xiv. 5 ff., by the prophet Nathan and the �wisenbsp;woman� of Tekoa respectively. To these may perhaps be added thenbsp;account of Saul�s death given by the Amalekite {jb. i. 4 ff.), which isnbsp;likewise in part fictitious. All three stories show a certain rhetoricalnbsp;skill ; but this is a characteristic of II Samuel in general. It may be in-

� Elsewhere the word and its cognates denote the recitation or composition of gnomes and proverbial wisdom; but this meaning seems to be inappropriate here.

761 ferred�but even this is somewhat uncertain�that the ability to tellnbsp;stories was rather widespread. All that is certain, however, is that the artnbsp;is not regarded as peculiar to men. In the second example Joab choosesnbsp;for his purpose a �wise woman��which must mean one who is anbsp;trained speaker, or who has studied rhetoric (cf. p. 737). Anothernbsp;woman of the same kind figures ib. xx. 16 ff. Her speeches are notnbsp;narratives; but it is interesting to note that she seems to have paramountnbsp;influence in her city. Poetry and minstrelsy then were clearly not thenbsp;only forms of intellectual activity in which women participated.

In an earlier chapter (p. 649 f.) we noted the predominantly feminine interest of the story of David�an interest which seems to indicate thatnbsp;most of it was composed either by women or for the entertainment ofnbsp;women. The intimacy of the picture frequently suggests that it originatednbsp;in the royal harem ; and in view of the intellectual activities attributed tonbsp;women in early Israel, as pointed out above, the possibility of such annbsp;origin cannot be denied. In this connection it is of interest to comparenbsp;the story with certain of the �Sagas of Icelanders�, which we believe tonbsp;be derived in the main from feminine sources (cf. Vol. i, pp. 542, 600).nbsp;It is true that no individual woman figures so prominently in the storynbsp;as Gu�ri�r does in Thorfinns Saga Karlsefnis or Gu�r�n in the Lax-doela Saga. But the outlook and the general characteristics seem to usnbsp;very similar, if one makes allowance for the difference in the milieu�nbsp;between an Oriental court on the one side and the life of a farmer�s wifenbsp;in Greenland or Iceland on the other.

There is one scene in the story�the scene of faction and intrigue depicted in I Klings i f., when the old king is dying�which seems to givenbsp;a clue to its origin. This scene can hardly be other than an ex partenbsp;account of the events, in favour of Bath-sheba, who is represented asnbsp;David�s favourite wife. In the earlier portions of the story she has onlynbsp;appeared once, viz. in II Sam. xi f., and even here she does not speak;nbsp;but the narrative in question is of a peculiar and intimate character, asnbsp;we have noted (p. 649), and the whole action revolves round her. Thenbsp;feature, however, to which we would call attention is the treatment ofnbsp;Joab.' This officer seems to have been loyal to David throughout hisnbsp;life ; for his action when the king was dying and the succession was innbsp;dispute can hardly be taken as evidence to the contrary. Yet David is

� This feature, apart from other considerations (cf. p. 646), seems to us fatal to the theory that the story is a romance. A romance could hardly have failed to makenbsp;Joab into a villain. We think the story must have been composed at a time whennbsp;Joab�s fidelity was still a matter of general knowledge.

said to have left instructions for Joab to be put to death. The reason alleged is not disloyalty�there is no reference to Joab�s action in thenbsp;final scene�but the fact that he had slain Abner and Amasa. It hasnbsp;frequently been questioned by commentators whether David evernbsp;gave such instructions; the circumstances suggest that a pretext wasnbsp;wanted for getting Joab out of the way. But it may be noted that thenbsp;pretext is anticipated in the preceding narrative, where David is repeatedlynbsp;represented (II Sam. iii. 39,^ xvi. 10, xix. 22) as cherishing resentmentnbsp;against Joab and his brother, though he continues to make use of theirnbsp;services. It would seem that this motif�David�s resentment, not Joab�snbsp;disloyalty�had been introduced into the story as an excuse for whatnbsp;was to follow.

In I Kings i David has apparently made no public declaration as to his successor. The contest between the rival claimants, which accompanies his last illness, is what would naturally take place in a barbaricnbsp;court; and likewise the proscription of the unsuccessful party, whichnbsp;follows. But David�s court was perhaps just passing beyond this stage;nbsp;evidently some excuse was felt to be necessary. David himself thereforenbsp;is made responsible for giving the orders, and Solomon, who is a merenbsp;boy, for carrying them out. The queen plays a merely passive r�le,nbsp;following the instructions of Nathan and pleading for Adonijah at hisnbsp;own request. We think that the account of the transactions comes fromnbsp;her. She must have been a woman of rather exceptional ability to havenbsp;won over most of the leading men, including the prophet, after such annbsp;unpromising beginning to her story.

We would suggest then that a large part, though not the whole, of the story of David is derived from saga inspired by Bath-sheba in Solomon�s court. Other parts may have become current in the palace and thenbsp;Temple from various quarters; and marriages such as that of Jehoshebanbsp;and Jehoiada would be favourable to the formation of a collection,nbsp;which eventually came to be written down. Many such sagas relatingnbsp;to kings may of course have been current in the palace. The silencenbsp;of our authorities proves nothing; for the authors or compilers of Kingsnbsp;did not admit secular stories into their collection.

If our view is correct women must have played a more important part in the intellectual life of early Israel than in that of any of the peoplesnbsp;we have discussed hitherto. Such evidence as we have for the earlier

� In iii. 28 ff. David is anxious to clear himself of bloodguilt in connection with Abner�s death; but this is a different matter from giving posthumous orders fornbsp;Joab�s death, perhaps thirty years later.

763 part of the kingly period shows at least that queens were often active innbsp;religion. Apart from Solomon�s wives, we may note Maacah, the mothernbsp;of Asa, and especially Jezebel and her daughter Athaliah. All of thesenbsp;are regarded by the writers of Kings with hostility, as opponents of thenbsp;worship of Jehovah. But they were evidently devoted to their ownnbsp;cults; Jezebel indeed seems to have been a fanatic. More definitenbsp;evidence for intellectual activity is to be found in the case of the queennbsp;of Sheba, who is clearly a learned person, though she does not belongnbsp;to Israel. Here also we may perhaps refer to the �mother of Kingnbsp;Lemuel�, to whom gnomic and descriptive wisdom is attributed innbsp;Prov. xxxi. Her time and country are unknown. The chapter is generallynbsp;believed to be late; but there is nothing to show that she is regarded as anbsp;person of the present.

It is remarkable that from the end of the ninth century women practically disappear from Hebrew literature. Collectively the women of the upper classes are denounced by the prophets Amos and Isaiah. But asnbsp;individuals they play no further part in either literature or history. Anbsp;solitary exception may be found in Hosea�s wife, if she is not a merenbsp;metaphor; but it does not tend to show that women were respected,nbsp;intellectually or otherwise. On the other hand the romance of Ruth cannbsp;hardly be regarded as an exception. It was probably composed after�nbsp;perhaps long after�this time; but it relates to a very early period, andnbsp;may well have had some basis in tradition.

In religious literature it will be convenient first to notice the poems attributed to women, since these affect the question which we have justnbsp;been discussing.

The earliest and most important of these is the �Song of Deborah� (Judg. v). The introductory words say that the song was sung by bothnbsp;Deborah and Barak; but in the poem itself she seems to be the chiefnbsp;speaker. Little is said of her, though in st. 7 she is called a � mother innbsp;Israel�. According to the saga (z�. iv. 4 f.) she was a prophetess and thenbsp;wife of a certain Lappidoth. She dwelt beneath the palm-tree of Deborah,nbsp;between Ramah and Bethel; �and the children of Israel came up to hernbsp;for judgement.� She is credited therefore with some kind of judicialnbsp;position; but it is uncertain whether this passage has been influencednbsp;by the editorial scheme, which makes a series of judges to govern Israel innbsp;succession.

The �Song of Miriam� (Ex. xv. 21) is perhaps a fragment of a song of triumph, of essentially religious character, like the poem just discussed.

Miriam is the sister of Aaron and Moses, and is described as a prophetess (ib. 20). In the earlier form of the story of Moses (JE) she is a not altogether unimportant character. In this passage she leads the women ofnbsp;Israel, while in Numb. xii. i if. she and Aaron seem to claim equalitynbsp;with Moses, for which she is punished with (temporary) leprosy. She isnbsp;also perhaps the sister who figures in the story of Moses� birth (Ex.nbsp;ii. 4 ff.). The prophet Micah (vi. 4) speaks of Moses, Aaron and Miriam,nbsp;as sent to bring Israel out of Egypt.

The �Song of Hannah� is said (I Sam. ii. i ff.) to be sung by Samuel�s mother, when she has brought her child to Shiloh. This attribution isnbsp;now generally believed to be due to some misunderstanding. The wordsnbsp;do not seem to be appropriate to the occasion; and it is thought that thenbsp;poem was originally composed as a thanksgiving for deliverance fromnbsp;some national calamity. Yet the mistake itself may be taken as showingnbsp;that the composition of such a poem by a woman of early times was notnbsp;regarded as anything very strange.

We know of no other religious poems attributed to women; nor are we aware of any evidence showing that they cultivated religious saga.nbsp;In later times, however, there is the striking case of the prophetessnbsp;Huldah, who is consulted by the high priest and certain officials of Kingnbsp;Josiah, when the book of the Law has been found in the Temple (II Kingsnbsp;xxii. 14 ff.). Her response and her message to the king are quite in accordnbsp;with the (literary) prophecies of the age. She is a married woman,nbsp;apparently the wife of a royal official; but nothing further seems to benbsp;recorded of her.

In much later times still we hear in Nehem. vi. 14 of a prophetess called Noadiah, who is hostile to Nehemiah. But it is somewhat remarkable that the literary prophets seem never to refer to prophetesses,nbsp;or even to women who are favourably disposed to their cause. In thenbsp;stories of the earlier prophets, Elijah and Elisha, women are mentionednbsp;not unfrequently, though they are not named�both wives of prophetsnbsp;and other women who befriend the prophets; we may cite in particularnbsp;the account of the �great woman� of Shunem, given in II Kings iv. 8 ff.nbsp;But in the eighth and following centuries such evidence is apparentlynbsp;wanting. Moreover the same peculiarity is to be found in the laternbsp;portions (D and P) of the Hexateuch. The Book of Deuteronomynbsp;frequently refers to the legal position of women; but it seems not tonbsp;mention any individual woman, apart from the allusion to Miriam�snbsp;leprosy in xxiv. 9.

765 in part to the �post-heroic� characteristics of the literature from thenbsp;eighth century onwards. No post-heroic literature of the individualisticnbsp;type, seen in Greece and in the North, has been preserved; but the worksnbsp;of the prophets and other writings of the period have much in commonnbsp;with post-heroic literature of a political character, in which the interestnbsp;is concentrated in the fortunes of the community or nation. In worksnbsp;relating to earlier times the interest of course lies more in persons. Butnbsp;we are inclined to question whether this change of interest explainsnbsp;everything. In spite of the passage relating to Huldah, which may benbsp;taken, so far as it goes, as rather striking evidence to the contrary, it maynbsp;perhaps be suspected that from the eighth century onwards there wasnbsp;a tendency for women, other than professional minstrels, to withdrawnbsp;both from public life and from intellectual activities.

What has been said above relates of course only to a minor part of early Hebrew literature. There can be little doubt that the greater partnbsp;of this literature, and more especially the religious literature, is of malenbsp;authorship. But unfortunately we have little direct evidence, except innbsp;the case of the prophets, as to who the authors were.

The Books of Kings contain a good deal of evidence which seems to indicate that their origin is to be traced to the Temple at Jerusalem. Onnbsp;several occasions detailed accounts are given of events which took placenbsp;in the Temple; we may instance the stories of Athaliah�s death and ofnbsp;Josiah�s reforms. More significant than these, however, are the frequentnbsp;references to spoliations, alterations and repairs of the buildings. Amongnbsp;many other passages which betray an intimate knowledge of it we maynbsp;perhaps note especially the story of the altar which the priest Urijahnbsp;constructed for Ahaz (II. xvi. 10 if.).

These Books, however, have incorporated, or at least drawn very freely from two earlier works. The �Book of the Acts of Solomon�,nbsp;which seems to have been the source of I. iii-x, may itself have originatednbsp;in the Temple. But in the rest of Book I (from cap. xi) and the first fewnbsp;chapters of Book II the interest is centred primarily in the northernnbsp;kingdom, and more especially in the doings of prophets who belongednbsp;to that kingdom. The evidence points distinctly to northern propheticnbsp;circles, at least for the origin of these stories; and it seems not unlikelynbsp;that they were brought into a connected historical form in that region.

There is no reason for looking beyond Jerusalem for any part of the story of David, so far as we can see. The greater part is of secular interest, and for this the evidence points to the palace. But before David�s

time Jerusalem was an alien city, and is not often referred to; and the tribe of Judah seldom plays a prominent part in the stories, though thenbsp;scene is sometimes laid at localities within its territory. The localitiesnbsp;connected with Samuel lie within what seem to have been the territories ofnbsp;Benjamin and the southern part of Ephraim; and the stories may havenbsp;taken form in that district. But the distance between these places andnbsp;northern Judah is so small that it is hardly necessary to look beyond thenbsp;latter. Such evidence as is available rather suggests that they circulatednbsp;among the �sons of the prophets�. The stories told of Saul are of morenbsp;varied character and relate to a wider area. They may well have circulated throughout the country, some among the prophets, others innbsp;secular circles. The stories in Judges are even more widely distributed;nbsp;and these also may not be of uniform provenance. A collection consisting of most of them (cap. ii-xvi) is thought to have been broughtnbsp;into connection at some time with the story of Samuel. When andnbsp;where this took place seems to be quite uncertain; but we are notnbsp;aware of any evidence tending to show that it was early�say beforenbsp;the times of written literature. The collection clearly reflects a religiousnbsp;milieu.

The later elements in the Hexateuch, D and P, doubtless have their home in Jerusalem; but the origin of the older elements, J and E, is lessnbsp;certain. It is commonly held that the former belonged to the southern,nbsp;the latter to the northern kingdom; but there can hardly be any doubtnbsp;that ultimately they had a common origin. Here again the interest isnbsp;widely distributed, especially in Genesis. Hebron and Beer-sheba, in thenbsp;south of Judah, are the homes of Abraham and Isaac; but Shechem,nbsp;Beth-el and other northern localities are equally prominent in the stories.nbsp;On the whole the evidence seems to point distinctly to Ephraim. Thenbsp;story of Joseph may be late in its present form; but it is hardly to benbsp;doubted that he was always the leading figure of the last generation. Ofnbsp;the other books Exodus and Numbers supply practically no evidence;nbsp;but Joshua again points to Ephraim, as we have seen (p. 701).

Throughout the Hexateuch the milieu is religious. Some scholars describe J and E as �prophetical� narratives, in contrast with P, thenbsp;priestly narrative (cf. p. 718); but on the whole we think this description is better avoided. What we would call attention to is the strikingnbsp;difference between Genesis and the other books�the story of thenbsp;patriarchs and the story of Moses and Joshua. Both stories doubtlessnbsp;originated in religious circles, and both seem to come from the samenbsp;district; but they are of essentially different character. In the former the

767 interest lies in the fortunes of individuals, women as well as men, thoughnbsp;not quite to the same extent. In the latter it is centred in a communitynbsp;and a religious organisation; interest in individuals is reduced to anbsp;minimum, and women seldom come into the picture. We cannot regardnbsp;the second story as a natural continuation of the first. It seems to usnbsp;incredible that they should have had the same origin.

From what has been pointed out above it appears probable that the Temple at Jerusalem was largely responsible for the preservation ofnbsp;early Hebrew literature. Indeed there can be little doubt that manynbsp;stories and poems were collected, edited and written down there.nbsp;But we have no information as to the persons engaged in thesenbsp;activities.

The priests, of whom one naturally thinks first, belonged to two families which claimed descent respectively from Eleazar and Ithamar,nbsp;the sons of Aaron. From the time of Zadok, at the close of David�snbsp;reign, the high-priests seem to have been drawn from the former family;nbsp;but in David�s time the senior priest was apparently Abiathar, a descendant of Eli, who is said to have been sprung from Ithamar. In the Booksnbsp;of Samuel priests figure rather frequently. After David�s death they arenbsp;often referred to in the Chronicles, but comparatively seldom in Kings.nbsp;W e are not aware of any evidence that priests engaged in literary activities ;nbsp;but the silence of the records can hardly be regarded as proving thatnbsp;they did not.

Apart from the priests we hear also of Levites connected with the Temple. The Chronicles mention them very frequently, and representnbsp;them as a numerous body.^ Some of them are singers, or �prophesy�nbsp;with harps and other musical instruments; others are door-keepers;nbsp;others again have charge of the treasuries and other duties connectednbsp;with the services of the Temple. The fullest references (I Chron. vi, ix,nbsp;XV f., xxiii ff.) relate to the time of David. Much also is said aboutnbsp;Levites and their duties in connection with festivals held by Hezekiahnbsp;and Josiah (II Chron. xxix, xxxi, xxxv). Apart from these long passagesnbsp;there are a few important, though brief, references. Thus it is stated

� The prophecy given in I Sam. ii. 35 f. seems to reflect the interest of the line of Zadok, as against this house. Some scholars regard this prophecy as late; but wenbsp;find it difficult to understand why it should be composed at a time when Zadok�snbsp;line had long been in unbroken possession. We should be inclined rather to regardnbsp;it as good evidence for the antiquity of the non-heroic saga preserved in I Samuel.

(xi. 14) that in Rehoboam�s time the Levites from the northern kingdom went to settle in Judah and Jerusalem. Again, Jehoshaphat sends Levites with princes and priests to teach in the cities of Judah (ib. xvii.nbsp;7 ff.); and the same king appoints Levites, with priests and other chiefnbsp;men, to act as judges in Jerusalem. It may be observed here that innbsp;I Chron. xxvi. 24 ff. the descendants of Moses are counted among thenbsp;Levites; but they are not priests, as was the case in Dan (cf. p. 659). Innbsp;Jerusalem they have charge of the dedicated spoils of war, apparently innbsp;accordance with longstanding usage.

Levites are often mentioned also in books relating to very ancient times, especially Numbers; but nearly all the references come from P ornbsp;(less frequently) from D. On the other hand it is noteworthy that theynbsp;are seldom referred to in Samuel and Kings, and then only as carryingnbsp;the sacred Ark.^ We are therefore left in doubt, not as to their existencenbsp;but as to the importance of their position. If they were merely minstrelsnbsp;and servants or subordinate officials of the Temple, they would hardlynbsp;require to be mentioned in Kings. The frequent references to them innbsp;the Chronicles may in general be due to the influence of their descendantsnbsp;in the Persian period, who seem to have had more authority. It isnbsp;possible, however, that their position had begun to improve before thenbsp;end of the monarchy.

The question which interests us is whether this class took any part in literary activities. The positive evidence to this effect is slight. We hearnbsp;(II Chron. xxxiv. 13) that in Josiah�s time �of the Levites there werenbsp;scribes and officers and porters�. Again, it is stated in I Chron. xxiv. 6nbsp;that in David�s time Shemaiah �the scribe, who was of the Levites�,nbsp;wrote the register of the priests. It is unnecessary, and indeed absurd,nbsp;to suppose that all the lists contained in the chronicles are works of thenbsp;imagination. Lists of Temple officials must surely have been keptnbsp;from early times; and it is reasonable to expect that the scribes who keptnbsp;them were Levites or priests. There were probably scribes who were notnbsp;Levites, like the Jonathan mentioned in I Chron. xxvii. 32, who seemsnbsp;to be a relative 3 of the king; and in other cases the class or tribe to which

In some cases Levites may be introduced without justification. In II Chron. xxiii the revolt against Athaliah is carried out by armed Levites. But in II Kings xi,nbsp;from which this account is largely derived, there is no reference to Levites; the coupnbsp;is effected by the guard and the Carites, who are believed to be foreign (perhapsnbsp;Carian) mercenary soldiers. But the Chronicles may have used another source fornbsp;the story.

THE AUTHOR nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;769

a scribe belonged is not stated. But it is at least not unlikely that �Hezekiah�s scribes� were drawn largely from the Levites.

Lastly, it may be observed that we hear of prophets in Jerusalem, though hardly so often as in the northern kingdom. Sometimes wenbsp;find them in the Temple; and one at least is the son of a priest�nbsp;Zechariah, the son of Jehoiada, whose death is described in II Chron.nbsp;xxiv. 20 IF. Isaiah (cap. vi) has a vision in the Temple; but we do notnbsp;know his ancestry. It is possible therefore that this class also ought tonbsp;be taken into account. On the whole, however, the frequent referencesnbsp;to the Temple would seem rather to point to those classes who werenbsp;more closely connected with it.

In those elements of the early literature which Jerusalem appears to have taken over from the northern kingdom (cf. p. 765) the influencenbsp;of the prophets is much more apparent. It is especially noticeable in thenbsp;older stratum of Kings, from I. xi onwards. Elijah and Elisha are thenbsp;the central figures; but it should be observed that the interest is notnbsp;confined to them, even in stories relating to their times. At the time ofnbsp;Ahab�s last adventure both prophets were living; but the only prophetnbsp;who appears in the story is Micaiah. Other stories are concerned withnbsp;encounters between Ahab and unnamed prophets. �Sons of the prophets��which evidently means communities of prophets�are mentioned at various places. On the other hand there is hardly any referencenbsp;to sanctuaries or priests. The evidence then, though it is merely inferential, would seem to point to prophetic circles or communities fornbsp;the origin of this element.

As regards the early chapters of I Samuel, one can say no more than that they are of religious provenance; and the same is true of the storiesnbsp;in Judges, as we have them. But both the stories in Judges and the oldernbsp;elements (J and E) in the Hexateuch show a striking contrast to thenbsp;older element in Kings. References to prophets are rare, whereasnbsp;sanctuaries are frequently mentioned. Much of the contents of thenbsp;Hexateuch was certainly familiar to the literary prophets, and may havenbsp;been known also to their predecessors. But we are inclined to thinknbsp;that the origin of these works is to be sought in a different milieu. Thenbsp;account of Moses and his institutions seems to point to a highly organisednbsp;sanctuary�presumably the one at Shiloh, which seems to have beennbsp;moved eventually to Gibeon. Shiloh is said to have had a hereditarynbsp;priesthood (cf. I Sam. ii. iri ff.), which claimed descent from Aaron

� According to I Chron. xxiv. 3 ff. (cf. I Sam. xiv. 3, xxii. 20); but the genealogy from Aaron to Eli is apparently nowhere given. It may be remarked that Aaron

and there may have been other Levi tes attached to die sanctuary? Indeed the Temple at Jerusalem would seem to have been regarded as in some sense its legitimate successor. At all events the elaborate ritualnbsp;literature (P), which grew up at Jerusalem in later times, is associatednbsp;with the �Tent of Meeting�, which is usually located at Shiloh. It maynbsp;be inferred then with probability that the milieu in which the traditionsnbsp;originated was of a priestly character.

In the stories of Genesis also prophets are hardly mentioned,� whereas references to sanctuaries are frequent. But here the interest is not centred in one sanctuary, but widely distributed throughout thenbsp;country. From this one can infer only that the stories had a widenbsp;circulation. If they originated in a sanctuary their local associationsnbsp;have been obscured�which might happen in course of time, when thenbsp;stories spread from one sanctuary to another. It is to be borne in mindnbsp;that the patriarchs are represented as semi-nomadic.

Yet, in spite of what has been said, the description of the older elements in the Hexateuch as �prophetical� is not altogether withoutnbsp;justification. Many of the stories were certainly known to the earliestnbsp;of the literary prophets. Moreover, in the times of Elijah and Elisha wenbsp;hear of communities of prophets at Bethel and Gilgal, which werenbsp;important sanctuaries, as well as at other places. In I Sam. iii. i and 21 it isnbsp;distinctly implied that the sanctuary at Shiloh was regarded as an oracle,nbsp;though it was quiescent in Eli�s time. It is here that Samuel receives hisnbsp;inspiration, as a child ; and later, in Jeroboam�s time, we find the prophetnbsp;Ahijah at the same place.

Indeed the Hexateuch itself, or rather the materials from which it is constructed, may in a sense be regarded as prophecy. We have seen 3nbsp;that in various other lands prophecy relates to the past and present, asnbsp;well as the future�or in other words that the revelation of the (unknown) past and present is as much a function of the prophet as thenbsp;revelation of the future. Such prophecies regularly take the form ofnbsp;never has priestly functions attributed to him in J or E; he appears only as Moses�nbsp;assistant or spokesman. It may be that some of the passages in P, which speak ofnbsp;Aaron as a priest, have displaced or remodelled passages to the same effect in J or E.nbsp;But the possibility should be taken into account that Eli�s family really claimednbsp;descent from Moses, like the priests of Dan.

� J and E have little to say about Levites, except that Moses and Aaron belonged to this tribe; cf. also Ex. xxxii. 26 ff. Here again the absence of evidence is annbsp;uncertain quantity. But the � Song of Moses � must be taken into account.

771 historical narratives or statements of fact, though, unlike the Hexateuch,nbsp;they are usually in poetry. It seems to us that much of the Hexateuchnbsp;may well have had a similar origin, i.e. in prophecy relating to the past.nbsp;But so far as we are aware this function of prophecy is never expresslynbsp;recognised in extant Hebrew literature. And consequently we think itnbsp;better on the whole not to use the word �prophetic� in reference to thenbsp;Hexateuch.

The characteristics of Hebrew prophecy have been discussed to some extent in Ch. viii. The powers attributed to the prophet may be summarised briefly as follows: (i) he has knowledge of �the unknownnbsp;present�, i.e. knowledge of what is unascertainable by ordinary means;nbsp;(ii) he has knowledge of the future; (iii) he can grant blessings andnbsp;impose curses, which will take effect; (iv) he has power over the forcesnbsp;of nature�e.g. he can produce drought or rain, and work various othernbsp;miracles.

Examples of (i)-(iii) will be found on p. 716 ft Sometimes of course an incident may be interpreted in more than one way; a passage may benbsp;taken as illustrating either (ii) or (iii), or perhaps as a combination of thenbsp;two. Thus Ahijah�s speech to Jeroboam�s wife in I Kings xiv. 6 ff. includes a prophecy of her son�s death; but in the main it is virtually anbsp;curse upon Jeroboam�s family.

Under blessings (iii) we may include the power of granting offspring, which the Hebrew prophet shares with the Brahman (cf. p. 614), thoughnbsp;examples are not so common as in India. A good instance may be foundnbsp;in II Kings, iv. 16 f., where Elisha promises a son to the lady of Shunem.nbsp;We may compare the benediction of Hannah by Eli the priest in I Sam.nbsp;i. 17, though the nature of the blessing is not specified. It may benbsp;observed that in Gen. xviii. 10, Judg. xiii. 3 blessings of this kind arenbsp;pronounced by Jehovah or his messenger.

The miracles (iv) attributed to Elijah and Elisha are very varied in character. Some of them show a certain resemblance to the spellsnbsp;noticed on p. 715, e.g. when Elijah divides the waters of the Jordan bynbsp;striking them with his cloak (II Kings ii. 8), or when Elisha makes annbsp;iron axe-head to float by throwing a stick into the water after it (ib.nbsp;vi. 6). But as the text stands, we cannot in either case speak of spells; fornbsp;no words are used.� The miracle is due to some divine or magical power

' In II Kings ii. 14, when Elisha returns after Elijah�s departure, he strikes the waters with Elijah�s cloak and says �Where is Jehovah, the God of Elijah?��nbsp;which may be interpreted as a spell.

possessed by the prophet. In other cases, e.g. I Kings xvii. 20 ff., miracles are accompanied by prayer.

What has been said above applies of course primarily to the pre-literary prophets. The literary prophets seem seldom, if ever, to prophesy of the unknown present. Neither do they work miracles, except on rarenbsp;occasions.^ On the other hand they seem to retain the power of cursingnbsp;and blessing, as well as that of prophesying the future. Examples of thenbsp;former may be seen in Amos� speech to the priest Amaziah (vii. 17) andnbsp;in Isaiah�s prophecy against Shebna (xxii. 15 if.). The prophecies ofnbsp;disaster impending upon foreign nations, which occur in Amos, i. 3 ff.nbsp;and frequently in Isaiah�s works, may have their origin in such curses asnbsp;Balaam was invited to pronounce against Israel. But apart from thesenbsp;traditional features, the works of the literary prophets show also � postheroic� (political) characteristics, which have been discussed in Ch. viiinbsp;(p. 722 ff.). Here we are concerned rather with the early history of thenbsp;prophet.

In stories relating to pre-literary times we hear often of the � sons of the prophets�, which evidently means communities of prophets. Innbsp;I Sam. xix. 20 we find Samuel presiding over such a community, whilenbsp;in II Kings iv. 38, vi. i Elisha seems to be in a similar position. Thesenbsp;communities are sometimes fairly large; fifty of the �sons of thenbsp;prophets�, apparently from Jericho, follow Elijah and Elisha to thenbsp;Jordan (jb. ii. 7). The members are, sometimes at least, married (ib.nbsp;iv. I If.). From I Kings xx. 38 if. it would seem that they worenbsp;something distinctive in their hair-dressing, though not in theirnbsp;clothes.

In early times these communities are said to indulge in ecstasy so infectious that secular visitors are overcome by it.^ In I Sam. xix. 20 ff. Saul sends two parties of messengers to the community at Ramah tonbsp;arrest David ; but when they arrive and find the prophets prophesying,nbsp;they begin themselves to prophesy. Then Saul arrives and does thenbsp;same, and strips off his clothes. There can be little doubt that � prophesying� here means singing�perhaps improvising�religious poetry, withnbsp;or without musical instruments. On another occasion Saul meets anbsp;company of prophets prophesying with musical instruments, and isnbsp;similarly overcome. We may compare II Kings iii. 15, where EUsha

* We know only of the incident of the sun-dial, described in II Kings xx. 9 if., Is. xxxviii. 7 f., and perhaps also Hezekiah�s recovery, related in the context of thenbsp;same passages. Isaiah here acts as a doctor. Was this a regular characteristic ofnbsp;Hebrew prophetsi� We do not know of any other evidence. � Cf. p. 776, note.

773 receives inspiration through minstrelsy (cf. p. 715). In II Chron. xxvnbsp;the Levites are said to prophesy with harps, psalteries and cymbals � fornbsp;the service of the house of God�.

It would seem then that religious minstrelsy or singing was in early times synonymous with prophecy. But this meaning cannot have beennbsp;invariable; the prophet must have been thought of as speaking, as wellnbsp;as singing. His distinctive feature is that he regularly represents himselfnbsp;as the spokesman or mouthpiece of his deity�just as much in thenbsp;straightforward speeches attributed to prophets in the stories of Kingsnbsp;as in the poetic language of the literary prophets. It is of interest tonbsp;note the parallelism in these meanings with the Teutonic word (Ang.-Sax.) Pyle, (Norse) pulr, �spokesman, prophet, (learned) poet� (cf.nbsp;Vol. I, p. 618 f.). This parallelism applies not only to the word � prophet �nbsp;{n�b�') but also to the related verb �prophesy� (n�ba}�in the musicalnbsp;sense�which would seem to be more or less equivalent to Norsenbsp;pylja, �chant�.

We have seen (p. 718 f.) that the prophet is sometimes called a �seer�, especially in stories relating to early times, and perhaps with specialnbsp;reference to his knowledge of the unknown present. In this respect annbsp;analogy is to be found in the Irish fill�a word which must originallynbsp;have denoted �seer� (cf. Vol. i, p. 606). The fill, as he appears in ournbsp;records is a learned poet, possessing a great repertoire of sagas and antiquarian learning; in stories he has also the power of causing injury andnbsp;even death by his curses. But our records date only from Christiannbsp;times. There can be little doubt that before the introduction ofnbsp;Christianity his activities had a religious side, and that he had then morenbsp;in common with the Hebrew prophet.

The contrast between the Hebrew prophet and the seer {rsi) of ancient India has been pointed out in Ch. viii (p. 723). In the Upanishads thenbsp;latter is more of a speculative philosopher than a prophet. But innbsp;Vedic times he is an intermediary between gods and men and a religiousnbsp;poet. In the stories of the Mahabharata he is often credited with practically unlimited knowledge and with power to do what he wishes,nbsp;whether by blessings and curses or in other respects.

The Indian seers are frequently surrounded by disciples; and there can be little doubt that Irish filid received as pupils at least those whonbsp;aspired to become filid. Analogies are to be found in ancient Gaulnbsp;and elsewhere. Was there an educational side to the activities of thenbsp;Hebrew prophets or to the communities of the �sons of the prophets�?nbsp;It has been suggested that the preservation and circulation of the (non-

heroic) stories of the past was largely due to them. But we know of no definite evidence.

It is somewhat curious that, so far as we are aware, early Hebrew literature preserves no instance of the contests in wisdom or manticism,nbsp;which are so widespread among other peoples.^ One may cite the storynbsp;of the sacrifice on Mount Carmel, related in I Kings xviii. 21 if.�a storynbsp;which, like so many of the same kind, ends in tragedy for the vanquishednbsp;party. But the contest here is represented as being between the deitiesnbsp;rather than the prophets themselves. A better example may be found innbsp;Ex. vii. 8-viii. 19,� where Aaron, instructed by Moses, performs a seriesnbsp;of supernatural feats. The three first of these�converting rods intonbsp;serpents, turning the river into blood, and producing innumerable frogsnbsp;�are performed also by the Egyptian magicians; but at the fourthnbsp;round�the production of lice�the Egyptians fail. We do not know,nbsp;however, of any contests which consist only of speech or verbal wisdom,nbsp;as in other lands.

Supernatural feats are of course a more or less constant element in stories of prophets everywhere. Actually grotesque features, however,nbsp;such as we find in Indian and Irish stories, seem to be wanting in thenbsp;Hebrew records, except in the case of Jonah. But it is to be rememberednbsp;that these stories usually date from times long after the prophets themselves; and the same is probably true of the story of Jonah�whichnbsp;indeed would be by no means out of place in the Mahabharata. On thenbsp;other hand the Hebrew records are entirely free from those disgustingnbsp;features which occur so frequently in stories of seers in the Mahabharata.

It may be observed that surprisingly little information is preserved as to the origin of most of the prophets. We do not know whether theynbsp;were often, or indeed, ever, sons of prophets.3 In II Chron. xxiv. 20nbsp;we hear of a prophet who was a son of the high-priest; but we do notnbsp;know whether prophets often belonged to priestly families. Again,nbsp;Indian records frequently speak of seers who were princes, and similarnbsp;cases are to be found in Europe; but we have apparently no suchnbsp;evidence for Israel. On the other hand we do hear, as in Europe,�* ofnbsp;seers or prophets who were in the service of kings. Such was the case

� It should be noted that all the passages here which speak of the Egyptian magicians and imply a contest are said to come from P, though the bulk of thenbsp;narrative is believed to be taken from J and E.

3 A possible case is the Jehu, son of Hanani, mentioned in I Kings xvi. i, if his father was the seer Hanani, referred to in II Chron. xvi. 7.

775 with Nathan and Gad in David�s time. The former seems to have beennbsp;one of the most influential members of the court, and perhaps the king�snbsp;chief confidant. Other prophets, such as Elisha, evidently had greatnbsp;influence with kings, though they were not attached to their personalnbsp;service. Lastly, note is to be taken of prophets like Amos, who werenbsp;unconnected with any kind of prophetic community and even disclaimed the title of prophet. We do not know whether such persons werenbsp;numerous.

Although no evidence for heredity is available in the case of the prophets, it is clear enough that the priesthood was a hereditary institution. The priests at Jerusalem claimed descent from Aaron (cf. p. 767);nbsp;and the same claim is made for those at Shiloh, who in a sense may benbsp;regarded as their predecessors. The priests at Dan are said to benbsp;descended from Moses. Unfortunately no information as to the originnbsp;of the priesthood seems to be supplied by the early texts. In the storynbsp;of Moses all the evidence apparently comes from P; the older texts, Jnbsp;and E or JE, first mention priests in Josh, iii f., as carrying the sacrednbsp;Ark across the Jordan.�

This absence of an early account of the origin of the priesthood is very remarkable, and would seem to point either to an omission in thenbsp;early texts or to some change in the tradition. It may be that thenbsp;references to Aaron and Eleazar in P are ultimately derived from thenbsp;early texts and that only the form�not the substance�of the story hasnbsp;been changed. On the other hand it is also possible that the traditionnbsp;from which the early texts are derived gave a different account of thenbsp;origin of the priesthood�an account which came to be discarded innbsp;favour of the claims of the house of Aaron. All that can be said with anynbsp;confidence is that the hereditary priesthoods at Shiloh and at Dan seemnbsp;to have been established a good time before the rise of the monarchy.nbsp;The stories of Gideon (Judg. vi. 25 ff.) and of Micah (z�A xvii. 3 If.) shownbsp;that in early times the local chiefs had sanctuaries of their own, just as innbsp;Europe.� Micah at first made his son priest. In other cases possibly thenbsp;chief may have acted as priest himself, as in Europe.3

� �Priests� are mentioned in Ex. xix. 22 ff. (J), before the account of the institution of the priesthood {ib. xxviii f.) is given by P. We believe that the word here is generally interpreted to mean �princes� or �chiefs�; and koh�n (�priest�) apparentlynbsp;does have some such meaning in certain passages in Samuel and Kings. But thisnbsp;explanation does not seem altogether satisfactory.

3 Some scholars regard Jethro, �priest of Midian� (Moses� father-in-law) as a person of this kind.

In early Hebrew literature prophecy is regularly represented as due to inspiration from Jehovah. This is not always specifically stated; andnbsp;there are frequent instances, like II Kings v. 26, which may be interpretednbsp;as meaning that a prophet acquires knowledge through some power ofnbsp;�vision� inherent in himself, just as in the north of Europe and in India.nbsp;But we cannot recall any passage in which this is definitely stated.nbsp;Inspiration is at all events the general rule.�

The prophet speaks as the mouthpiece of Jehovah; but usually hedoes not say how he has received his message. Where this is stated the mostnbsp;frequent form of inspiration is by dreams. Occasionally, however, wenbsp;hear of direct communication, when the medium is apparently notnbsp;asleep. The most detailed instance is the story of the call of Samuel,nbsp;related in I Sam. iii. Here Samuel, who is still a child, or at least verynbsp;young, comes to Eli three times in the night, thinking that the latter hasnbsp;called him. On the third occasion the priest realises that the voicenbsp;must be Jehovah�s and tells Samuel to answer accordingly. So, when henbsp;again hears the voice, he replies : � Speak, for thy servant heareth �. Thennbsp;Jehovah makes known to him the impending ruin of Eli�s house.

The scene of Samuel�s call is the temple or sanctuary at Shiloh. In this connection we may note that Isaiah�s vision�the subject of what isnbsp;commonly thought to be his earliest prophecy (cap. vi)�seems to takenbsp;place in the Temple at Jerusalem. The most famous scenes of this kind,nbsp;however, are located at a sacred mountain, Horeb or Sinai, in the south,nbsp;far beyond the territories of Israel or Judah. It is to Horeb that Elijahnbsp;goes in I Kings xix. 8 If. to receive a message from Jehovah. The messagenbsp;is given by a voice, which is preceded by a high wind, earthquake andnbsp;fire. At Horeb or Sinai�which may mean the same place, though thenbsp;precise locality is uncertain�Moses meets Jehovah in Ex. xix, and receives from him the Ten Commandments and the �Book of the Covenant�. Jehovah�s approach is preceded by thunder and lightning, smokenbsp;and fire, earthquake, and the sound of a trumpet. It may be noted thatnbsp;in Palestine itself also we hear sometimes of worship offered upon thenbsp;tops of hills and mountains, though the practice is condemned.

On the other hand there seems to be hardly any evidence in early records for inspiration or divination at springs. An instance of revelation takes place in Gen. xvi. 7 at a fountain, which in view of its namenbsp;{ib. 14) may be a sanctuary. A revelation also takes place at Beershebanbsp;� On this subject cf. Vol. i, p. 635 ff.; it will require further notice in Vol. in.nbsp;It may be noted that the mantic ecstasy of the Welsh awenyddion is not said tonbsp;be infectious, though infectious ecstasy (cf. p. 772) was perhaps known to thenbsp;ancient Celts, as also to the Greeks and Thracians.

777 (jb. xxvi. 24), where Isaac builds an altar and digs a well. In later timesnbsp;this was apparently a famous sanctuary; but its sanctity may have beennbsp;due not so much to the well �h'�r} as to its having been the dwellingplace of Abraham and Isaac. In view of the European evidence cited innbsp;Vol. I, p. 648 ff., it is rather surprising that the Hebrew records shouldnbsp;have so little to say on this subject.

Instances of revelation beneath trees, usually oaks, are more frequent. They may be found both in Genesis, e.g. xii. 6 f. (Shechem), xviii. i ff.nbsp;(Hebron), and in Judges, e.g. vi. 11 ff. Sanctuaries or altars are mentioned at the places indicated. It may be observed that even as late as thenbsp;time of Ahaz we hear of sacrifices �under every green tree� (cf. II Kingsnbsp;xvi. 4). It may also be noted that in Judg. iv. 5 the prophetess Deborahnbsp;is said to have dwelt beneath a palm-tree.

One striking instance of revelation, the story of Jacob�s dream (Gen. xxviii. 11 ff.), is connected with a menhir. This is presumably the foundation-story of the sanctuary of Bethel (cf. p. 693).

As regards the accessories of inspiration, discussed in Vol. i, p. 651 ff., the importance of music has been noticed above (p. 754 f.). For othernbsp;accessories the evidence is very slight. The use of strong drink seems tonbsp;be unknown. The people of Ephraim are frequently charged by thenbsp;prophets with drunkenness at their feasts, including perhaps religiousnbsp;feasts ; but we have not noted any reference to prophecy in this connection. Neither can we recall the use of any magic or mantic potion, likenbsp;the cauldron of Ceridwen.

Mantic knowledge seems to be attributed to snakes in the story of the Fall; but we do not know of any further evidence to this effect. Atnbsp;Jerusalem in Hezekiah�s time, according to II Kings xviii. 4, incense wasnbsp;offered to a serpent of brass, which was believed to have been made bynbsp;Moses. From Numb. xxi. 9, with which this passage is clearly to benbsp;connected, it would seem probable that the virtue of this object wasnbsp;curative (therapeutic) rather than mantic.

We do not know of any special chair or oracular seat used by prophets or seers. On the other hand the prophet�s staff is mentionednbsp;not unfrequently. In II Kings iv. 29 ff. Elisha sends his servant with hisnbsp;staff to a dying child, and tells him to lay it upon the child�s face, in ordernbsp;to revive it. But it is in the story of Moses that the most numerous andnbsp;striking examples are to be found. Several of the plagues inflicted uponnbsp;the Egyptians are brought about by a rod, either his own or Aaron�s.nbsp;Instances occur also later, as in Ex. xvii. 5 f., where he strikes a rocknbsp;with his rod, in order to obtain water.