ORIGIN AND HISTORY
THE origin of the use of common salt as a condiment is hidden in the mazes of antiquity. Although we have no evidence that this important article of diet was known to the antediluvians, there is still abundant proof that it was highly esteemed as a seasoner of food long before the Christian era. In a Greek translation of a curious fragment of the writings of the semi-fabulous Phoenician author, Sanchoniathon, who is said to have lived before the Trojan war, the discovery of the uses of salt is attributed to certain immediate descendants of Noah, one of whom was his son Shem.
From the mythical lore of Finland we learn that Ukko, the mighty god of the sky, struck fire in the heavens, a spark from which descending was received by the waves and became salt. The Chinese worship an idol called Phelo, in honor of a mythological personage of that name, whom they believe to have been the discoverer of salt and the originator of its use. His ungrateful countrymen, however, were tardy in their recognition of Phelo's merits, and that worthy thereupon left his native land and did not return. Then the Chinese declared him to be a deity, and in the month of June each year they hold a festival in his honor, during which he is everywhere eagerly sought, but in vain; he will not appear until he comes to announce the end of the world.
Among the Mexican Nahuas the women and girls employed in the preparation of salt were wont to dance at a yearly festival held in honor of the Goddess of salt, Huixtocihuatl, whose brothers the rain-gods are said, as the result of a quarrel, to have driven her into the sea, where she invented the art of making the precious substance.
The earliest Biblical mention of salt appears to be in reference to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. (Genesis xix. 24-26.) When King Abimelech destroyed the city of Shechem, an event which is believed to have occurred in the thirteenth century B.C., he is said to have "sowed salt on it," this phrase expressing the completeness of its ruin. (Judges ix. 45.) It is certain that the use of salt as a relish was known to the Jewish people at a comparatively early period of their history. For in the sixth chapter of the Book of Job occurs this passage: "Can that which is unsavoury be eaten without salt?"
In Eastern countries it is a time-honored custom to place salt before strangers as a token and pledge of friendship and good-will. The phrase "to eat some one's salt" formerly signified being in that person's service, and in this sense it is used in the Book of Ezra, iv. 14, where the expression, " we have maintenance from the king's palace," means literally, " we are salted with the salt of the palace," which implies being in the service of the king. And from the idea of being in the employment of a master, and eating his salt, the phrase in question came to denote faithfulness and loyalty.
As an instance of the superstitious reverence with which salt is regarded in the East, it is related that Yacoub ben Laith, who founded the dynasty of Persian princes known as the Saffarides, was of very humble origin, and in his youth gained a livelihood as a freebooter. Yet so chivalrous was he that he never stripped his victims of all their belongings, but always left them something to begin life with anew.
On one occasion this gallant robber had forcibly and by stealth entered the palace of a prince, and was about departing with considerable spoil, when he stumbled over an object which his sense of taste revealed to be a lump of salt. Having thus involuntarily partaken of a pledge of hospitality in another man's house, his honor overcame his greed of gain and he departed without his booty.
Owing to its antiseptic and preservative qualities, salt was emblematic of durability and permanence; hence the expression "Covenant of Salt." It was also a symbol of wisdom, and in this sense was doubtless used by St. Paul when he told the Colossians that their speech should be seasoned with salt.
Homer called salt divine, and Plato described it as a substance dear to the gods.
Perhaps the belief in its divine attributes may have been a reason for the employment of salt as a sacrificial offering by the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans, all of whom, moreover, regarded it as an indispensable relish.
Plutarch said that without salt nothing was savory or toothsome, and that this substance even imparted an additional flavor to wines, thus causing them "to go down the throat merrily." And the same writer remarked that, as bread and salt were commonly eaten together, therefore Ceres and Neptune were sometimes worshiped together in the same temple.
Grimm remarks that salt is not found in witches' kitchens, nor at devils' feasts, because the Roman Catholic Church has taken upon herself the hallowing and dedication of this substance. Moreover, inasmuch as Christians recognize salt as a wholesome and essential article of diet, it seems plausible enough that they should regard it as unsuitable for the use of devils and witches, two classes of beings with whom they have no particular sympathy. Hence perhaps the familiar saying that "the Devil loveth no salt in his meat."
Once upon a time, according to tradition, there lived a German peasant whose wife was a witch, and the Devil invited them both to supper one fine evening. All the dishes lacked seasoning, and the peasant, in spite of his wife's remonstrances, kept asking for salt; and when after a while it was brought, he remarked with fervor, "Thank God, here is salt at last," whereupon the whole scene vanished.
The abbot Richalmus, who lived in the old German duchy of Franconia in the twelfth century, claimed, by the exercise of a special and extraordinary faculty, to be able to baffle the machinations of certain evil spirits who took special delight in playing impish tricks upon churchmen. They appear, indeed, to have sorely tried the patience of the good abbot in many ways, as, for example, by distracting his thoughts during Mass and interfering with his digestion, promoting discords in the church music, and causing annoyance by inciting the congregation to cough in sermon time. Fortunately he possessed three efficient weapons against these troublesome creatures, namely, the sign of the cross, holy water, and salt.
"Evil spirits," wrote the abbot, "cannot bear salt." When he was at dinner, and the Devil had maliciously taken away his appetite, he simply tasted a little salt, and at once became hungry. Then, if soon afterwards his appetite again failed him, he took some more salt, and his relish for food speedily returned.
In Hungarian folk-lore, contrary to the usual opinion, evil personages are fond of salt, for at those festive gatherings described in old legends and fairy tales, where witches and the Devil met, they were wont to cook in large kettles a stew of horse-flesh seasoned with salt, upon which they eagerly feasted.
Hence appears to have originated the popular notion current among the Magyars that a woman who experiences a craving for salt in the early morning must be a witch, and on no account should her taste be gratified.
Once upon a time, says tradition, a man crept into a witch's tub in order to spy upon the proceedings at a meeting of the uncanny sisterhood.
Shortly thereafter the witch appeared, saddled the tub, and rode it to the place of rendezvous, and on arriving there the man contrived to empty a quantity of salt into the tub. After the revels he was conveyed homewards in the same manner, and showed the salt to his neighbors as proof positive that he had really been present at the meeting. Sometimes, however, salt is used in Hungary as a protection against witches. The threshold of a new house is sprinkled with it, and the doorhinges are smeared with garlic, so that no witch may enter.
The peasants of Russian Esthonia are aware of the potency of salt against witches and their craft. They believe that on St. John's Eve witch-butter is maliciously smeared on the doors of their farm-buildings in order to spread sickness among the cattle. When, therefore, an Esthonian farmer finds this obnoxious butter on his barn-door or elsewhere, he loads his gun with salt and shoots the witch-germs away.
The Hindus have a theory that malignant spirits, or Bhuts, are especially prone to molest women and children immediately after the latter have eaten confectionery and other sweet delicacies.
Indeed, so general is this belief that vendors of sweetmeats among school-children provide their youthful customers each with a pinch of salt to remove the sweet taste from their mouths, and thus afford a safeguard against the ever-watchful Bhuts.
Owing to the importance of salt as a relish, its Latin name sal came to be used metaphorically as signifying a savory mental morsel, and, in a general sense, wit or sarcasm. It was formerly maintained by some etymologists that this word had a threefold meaning according to its gender. Thus, when masculine, it has the above signification, but when feminine it means the sea, and only when neuter does it stand for common salt. The characterization of Greece as "the salt of nations" is attributed to Livy, and this is probably the origin of the phrase "Attic salt," meaning delicate, refined wit. The phrase cum grano salis may signify the grain of common sense with which one should receive a seemingly exaggerated report. It may also mean moderation, even as salt is used sparingly as a seasoner of food.
Among the ancients, as with ourselves, Sol and sal, the Sun and salt, were known to be two things essential to the maintenance of life.
Soldiers, officials, and working people were paid either wholly or in part in salt, which was in such general use for this purpose that any sum of money paid for labor or service of whatever kind was termed a salarium, or salary, that is, the wherewithal to obtain one's salt.
Pliny remarked that salt was essential for the complete enjoyment of life, and in confirmation of this statement he commented on the fact that the word sales was employed to express the pleasures of the mind, or a keen appreciation of witty effusions, and, therefore, was associated with the idea of good fellowship and mirth.
A certain mystic significance has been attributed to the three letters composing the word "sal." Thus, the letter S, standing alone, represents or suggests two circles united together, the sun and the moon. It typifies, moreover, the union of things divine and mundane, even as salt partakes of the attributes of each. A, alpha, signifies the beginning of all things; while L is emblematic of something celestial and glorious. S and L represent solar and lunar influences respectively, and the trio of letters stand for an essential substance provided by God for the benefit of his people. In a curious treatise on salt, originally published in 1770, the writer launches forth in impassioned style the most extravagant encomiums upon this substance, which he avers to be the quintessence of the earth. Salt is here characterized as a Treasure of Nature, an Essence of Perfection, and the Paragon of Preservatives. Moreover, whoever possesses salt thereby secures a prime factor of human happiness among material things.
The French people employ the word "salt" metaphorically in several common expressions. Thus, in speaking of the lack of piquancy or pointedness in a dull sermon or address, they say, "There was no salt in that discourse." And of the brilliant productions of a favorite author they remark, "He has sprinkled his writings with salt by handfuls." In like manner they use the term un epigramme salé to denote a cutting sarcasm or raillery. Very apt also is the following definition by an old English writer: "Salt, a pleasaunt and merrie word that maketh folks to laugh and sometime pricketh." The expression "to salt an invoice" signifies to increase the full market value of each article, and corresponds to one use of the French verb saler, to overcharge, and hence to "fleece" or "pluck." Thus the phrase Il me l'a bien salé means "He has charged me an excessive price."
In the records of the Presbytery of Edinburgh, under date of September 20, 1586, is to be found the following description of an oath which Scotch merchants were required to take when on their way to the Baltic:--
Certan merchantis passing to Danskerne (Denmark) and cuming neir Elsinnure, chusing out and quhen they accompted for the payment of the toill of the goods, and that depositioun of ane othe in forme following, viz: Thei present and offer breid and salt to the deponer of the othe, whereon he layis his hand and deponis his conscience and sweiris.
Gypsies likewise sometimes use bread and salt to confirm the solemnity of an oath. An example of this is recorded in the "Pesther Lloyd " of July 1, 1881. A member of a gypsy band in western Hungary had been robbed of a sum of money, and so informed his chief, who summoned the elders of the camp to a council. On an upright cross formed of two poles was placed a piece of bread sprinkled with salt, and upon this each gypsy was required to swear that he was not the thief. The real culprit, refusing to take so solemn an oath, was thus discovered.
Among the Jews the covenant of salt is the most sacred possible. Even at the present time, Arabian princes are wont to signify their ratification of an alliance by sprinkling salt upon bread, meanwhile exclaiming, "I am the friend of thy friends, and the enemy of thine enemies." So likewise there is a common form of request among the Arabs as follows: "For the sake of the bread and salt which are between us, do this or that."
In the East, at the present day, compacts between tribes are still confirmed by salt, and the most solemn pledges are ratified by this substance. During the Indian mutiny of 1857 a chief motive of self-restraint among the Sepoys was the fact that they had sworn by their salt to be loyal to the English queen.
The antiquity of the practice of using salt in confirmation of an oath is shown in the following passage from an ode of the Greek lyric poet Archilochus, who flourished during the early part of the seventh century B. C.:--
Thou hast broken the solemn oath, and hast disgraced the salt and the table.
In the year 1731 the Protestant miners and peasants inhabiting the "salt exchequer lands," prior to their banishment from the country by Leopold, Archbishop of Salzburg, held a meeting in the picturesque village of Schwarzach, and "solemnly ratified their league by the ancient custom of dipping their fingers in salt." The table at which this ceremony took place, and a picture representing the event, are still shown at the Wallner Inn, where the meeting was held.
The widespread notion that the spilling of salt produces evil consequences is supposed to have originated in the tradition that Judas overturned a salt-cellar at the Paschal Supper, as portrayed in Leonardo da Vinci's painting. But it appears more probable that the belief is due to the sacred character of salt in early times. Any one having the misfortune to spill salt was formerly supposed to incur the anger of all good spirits, and to be rendered susceptible to the malevolent influences of demons. When, in oriental lands, salt was offered to guests as a token of hospitality, it was accounted a misfortune if any particles were scattered while being so presented, and in such cases a quarrel or dispute was anticipated.
Bishop Hall wrote, in 1627, that when salt fell towards a superstitious guest at dinner, he was wont to exhibit signs of mental agitation, and refused to be comforted until one of the waiters had poured wine in his lap. And in Gayton's "Art of Longevity" we find these lines:--
I have two friends of either sex, which do eat little salt or none, yet are friends too; of both which persons I can truly tell, they are of patience most invincible; whom out of temper no mischance at all can put; no, if towards them the salt should fall.
The Germans have a saying, "Whoever spills salt arouses enmity," and in some places the overthrow of a salt-cellar is thought to be the direct act of the Devil, the peace-disturber. The superstitious Parisian, who may have been the unfortunate cause of such a mishap, is quite ready to adopt this view, and tosses a little of the spilled salt behind him, in order, if possible, to hit the invisible Devil in the eye, which, temporarily at least, prevents him from doing further mischief. This is probably a relic of an ancient idolatrous custom; and salt thus thrown was formerly a kind of sop to Cerberus, an offering to pacify some particular deity. In like manner the natives of Pegu, a province of British Burmah, in the performance of one of their rites in honor of the Devil, are wont to throw food over their left shoulders to conciliate the chief spirit of evil.
When salt was spilled at table the pious Roman was wont to exclaim, "May the gods avert the omen!" and the modern Sicilian in such a case, invokes "the Mother of Light."
Among the Greeks it was customary to present salt to the gods as a thank-offering at the beginning of every meal. Louis Figuier, in "Les merveilles de l'industrie," places these three happenings in the category of ominous mishaps in a Grecian household:(1) the omission of a salt-cellar from among the furnishings of a dinner-table; (2) the falling asleep of one of the guests at a banquet, before the removal of the salt-cellar to make place for the dessert; (3) the overturning of this important vessel. It seems evident, therefore, that the origin of the belief in the ominous character of salt-spilling is of far greater antiquity than is popularly supposed; and Leonardo da Vinci, in portraying Judas as upsetting a salt-cellar, probably had in mind the already well-known portentous significance of such an act. But some observers have failed to discover any trace of a salt-cellar in the original Cenacolo on the refectory wall of the Milanese convent. In the well-known engraving by Raphael Morghen, however, the overthrown salt-cellar is clearly delineated, and the spilled salt is seen issuing from it. An animated discussion on this moot-point enlivened the columns of "Notes and Queries" some years ago.
The following passage is to be found in a work entitled "Hieroglyphica, a Joanne Valeriano" (1586), being a treatise on ancient symbols:--
Alioqui sal amicitiae symbolum fuit, durationis gratia. Corpora enim solidiora facit et diutissime conservat. Unde hospitibus ante alios cibos apponi solitum, quo amicitiae firmitas ac perseverantia significetur. Quare plerique ominosum habent si sal in mensam profundi contigerit. Contra vero faustum si vinum atque id merum effusum sit.
Which has been rendered into English as follows: "Salt was formerly a symbol of friendship, because of its lasting quality. For it makes substances more compact and preserves them for a long time: hence it was usually presented to guests before other food, to signify the abiding strength of friendship. Wherefore many consider it ominous to spill salt on the table, and, on the other hand, propitious to spill wine, especially if unmixed with water."
In Gaule's "Magastromancer" (1652), overturning the salt is mentioned in a list of "superstitious ominations." According to a popular Norwegian belief, one will shed as many tears as may suffice to dissolve the quantity of salt which he has spilled; and in east Yorkshire, also, every grain of spilled salt represents a tear to be shed. Moreover, saltness has been thought to be an essential attribute of tears, and this intimate connection between the two may have given rise to some of the many superstitions connected with salt. In Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in order to avert ill-luck after salt has been spilled, one should not only toss a pinch of the spilled salt over the left shoulder, but should also crawl under a table and come out on the opposite side.
In the "British Apollo" (1708) are these lines:--
We 'el tel you the reason
Why spilling of Salt
Is esteemed such a Fault,
Because it doth ev'rything season.
Th' antiques did opine
'T was of Friendship a sign,
So served it to guests in decorum,
And thought Love decayed,
When the negligent Maid
Let the salt-cellar tumble before them.
In New England the gravity of salt-spilling as an omen, its deplorable severance of friendship's ties, and the necessity for prompt remedial measures, are all fully recognized.
And here the deft toss of the spilled particles over the left shoulder is not always adequate; for in order thoroughly to break the spell, these particles must be thrown on the stove.
Gypsies have a saying, "The salt of strife has fallen."
From the idea of the desecration of a sacred substance, to which allusion has been made, doubtless arose the remarkable superstition that, as a penalty for spilling salt, one must wait outside the gate of Paradise for as many years as there are grains of salt spilled.
In the Lansdowne MSS. 231 (British Museum) occurs this passage:--
The falling of salt is an authentic psagemt of ill-luck, nor can every temper contemn it; nor was the same a grall pgnostic among the ancients of future evil, but a pticular omination concerning the breach of friendship. For salt as incorruptible was ye symbole of friendship, and before ye other service was offered unto yeir guests. But whether salt were not only a symbol of friendship wh man, but also a fig. of amity and recociliation wh God, and was therefore offered in sacrifices, is an higher speculation.
Herbert Spencer affirms that the consciousness which harbors a notion that evil will result from spilling salt is manifestly allied to the consciousness of the savage, and is prone to entertain other superstitious beliefs like those prevalent in barbarous lands. And although idolatry and fetich-worship do not flourish in civilized communities, yet many popular superstitions are akin in nature to the sentiments which prompt the savage to bow down before images of wood or stone.
In the northern counties of England, and indeed quite generally in Anglican communities, it is reckoned unlucky to be helped to salt at table, and this idea has found expression in the popular couplet, "Help me to salt, help me to sorrow." In a small volume entitled "The Rules of Civility" (London, 1695), translated from the French, and quoted in "Brand's Popular Antiquities," is the following passage:--
Some are so exact they think it uncivil to help anybody that sits by them either with salt or brains. But in my judgment that is a ridiculous scruple, and if your neighbor desires you to furnish him (with salt), you must either take out some with your knife and lay it upon his plate, or if they be more than one, present them with the salt that they may furnish themselves.
In Russia there is a superstitious prejudice against helping one's neighbor to salt at table on account of the liability to quarrels thereby incurred. For in so doing one is thought to have the air of implying, "Well, you have received your allowance of salt, now go away." But if in proffering the salt one smiles amicably, all danger of a quarrel is happily averted, and the act is wholly relieved of its ominous character.
The simple expedient of a second help is commonly regarded as equally effective for this purpose, but it is difficult to imagine whence was derived the alleged potency of such an antidote, which is contrary to the Pythagorean theory of the divine character of unity and the diabolical attributes of the number two.
In many lands, however, it is only common courtesy to help a friend to salt at table; but in Italy this delicate attention was formerly thought to be a mark of undue familiarity, and, when salt was offered by one gentleman to the wife of another, it was a sufficient cause for jealousy and even quarrel.
The mediaeval Roman Catholic custom of using salt to protect infants from evil prior to their baptism is frequently alluded to in early romantic literature. In an ancient ballad entitled "The King's Daughter," the birth of a child occurs under circumstances which prevent the administration of the rite of baptism. The mother, therefore, exposes the baby in a casket, and is careful to place by its side salt and candles. The words of the ballad are:--
The bairnie she swyl'd in linen so fine,
In a gilded casket she laid it syne,
Mickle saut and light she laid therein,
Cause yet in God's house it had'na been.'
Mr. William G. Black, in his work on Folk-Medicine, says that in some districts of Scotland it was formerly a custom, previous to baptism, to carry some salt around the child "withershins," or backwards,--a procedure which was believed to protect the child from evil during its oftentimes long journey from the house to the church where the ceremony was to be performed. In Marsala the relatives of a new-born child do not sleep the first night, for fear of the appearance of witches. Indeed, a watch is often kept for many nights, or until the child's baptism. A light burns in the room constantly, and an image of some saint is fastened upon the house-door. A rosary and a raveled napkin are attached to the image, and behind the door are placed a jug of salt and a broom. When a witch comes and sees the saint's image and the rosary, she usually goes away at once; but even if these talismans are wanting, the salt, napkin, and broom afford adequate protection. For any witch before entering must count the grains of salt, the threads of the napkin's fringe, and the twigs of which the broom is made. And she never has time enough for these tasks, because she cannot appear before midnight, and must hide herself before the dawn.
This popular belief in the magical power of salt to protect infants from evil, especially in the period between birth and baptism, is exemplified in the following allusion to a foundling in a metrical "History of the Family of Stanley," which dates from the early part of the sixteenth century (Harleian MSS. 541, British Museum): "It was uncrisned, seeming out of doubt, for salt was bound at its neck in a linen clout."
In Sicily, too, it is sometimes customary for the priest to place a little salt in the child's mouth at baptism, thereby imparting wisdom. Hence the popular local saying in regard to a person who is dull of understanding, that the priest put but little salt in his mouth. A similar usage is in vogue in the district of Campine in Belgium. The use of salt at baptism in the Christian Church dates from the fourth century. It was an early practice to place salt, which had been previously blessed, in the infant's mouth, to symbolize the counteraction of the sinfulness of its nature.
So, too, in the baptismal ceremonies of the Church of England in mediaeval times, salt, over which an exorcism had been said, was placed in the child's mouth, and its ears and nostrils were touched with saliva,--practices which became obsolete at about the time of the reign of Henry VIII.
An octagonal font of the fifteenth century, in St. Margaret's Church, Ipswich, Suffolk, has upon one of its sides the figure of an angel bearing a scroll, on which appears a partially illegible inscription containing the words Sal et Saliva.
Thomas Ady, in "A Perfect Discovery of Witches" (London, 1661), says that holy water, properly conjured, was used to keep the Devil in awe, and to prevent his entering churches or dwellings.
With such holy water Satanic influences were kept away from meat and drink, and from "the very salt upon the table."
In the Highlands of Scotland, instead of using salt as an amulet for the protection of young babies, it was customary for watchers to remain constantly by the cradle until the christening. For it was believed that spiteful fairies were wont to carry off healthy infants, leaving in their stead puny specimens of their own elfish offspring;--and infants thus kidnapped were sometimes kept in fairyland for seven years. This well-known popular belief gave rise to the word "changeling," which signifies a "strange, stupid, ugly child left by the fairies in place of a beautiful or charming child that they have stolen away." And inasmuch as baby elves were invariably stunted and of feeble intellect, all idiotic and dwarfish children were thought to be changelings.
From thence a faery the unweeting reft,
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,
And her base elfin brood there for the left:
Such men do chaungelinges call, so chaunged by fairies' theft.
SALT AS A MAGICAL SUBSTANCE
The natives of Morocco regard salt as a talisman against evil, and a common amulet among the Neapolitan poor is a bit of rock-salt suspended from the neck. The peasants of the Hartz Mountain region in Germany believe that three grains of salt in a milk-pot will keep witches away from the milk; and to preserve butter from their uncanny influences, it was a custom in the county of Aberdeen, Scotland, some years ago, to put salt on the lid of a churn. In Normandy, also, the peasants are wont to throw a little salt into a vessel containing milk, in order to protect the cow who gave the milk from the influences of witchcraft.
Peculiar notions about the magical properties of salt are common among American negroes. Thus in some regions a new tenant will not move into a furnished house until all objects therein have been thoroughly salted, with a view to the destruction of witch-germs. Another example of the supernatural attributes ascribed to salt is the opinion current among uneducated people in some communities of its potency in casting a spell over obnoxious individuals. For this purpose it is sufficient either to sprinkle salt over the sleeping form of an enemy, or on the grave of one of his ancestors. Another kind of salt-spell in vogue in the south of England consists in throwing a little salt into the fire on three successive Friday nights, while saying these words:
It is not this salt I wish to burn,
It is my lover's heart to turn;
That be may neither rest nor happy be,
Until he comes and speaks to me.
On the third Friday night the disconsolate damsel expects her lover to appear. Every one is familiar with the old saying, "You can catch a bird with your hand, if you first put some salt on its tail." This quaint expression has been thought to imply that, if one can get near enough to a bird to place salt on its tail, its capture is an easy matter. The phrase, however, may be more properly attributed to a belief in the magical properties of salt in casting a spell over the bird. Otherwise any substance mioht be equally effective for the purpose of catching it. The writer remembers having read somewhere an old legend about a young man who playfully threw some salt on the back of a witch sitting next to him at table, and the witch thereupon acquired such an increase of avoirdupois that she was unable to move until the young man obligingly brushed away the salt.
The ancient Teutons believed that the swift flight of birds was caused by certain powerful spirits of the air. Now salt is a foe to ghostly might, imparts weight to bodies, and impedes their motion; therefore the rationale of its operation when placed upon a bird's tail is easily intelligible.
In the Province of Quebec French Canadians sometimes scatter salt about the doors of their stables to prevent those mischievous little imps called lutins from entering and teasing the horses by sticking burrs in their manes and tails. The lutin or gobelin is akin to the Scandinavian household spirit, who is fond of children and horses, and who whips and pinches the former when they are naughty, but caresses them when good. In Marsala, west Sicily, a horse, mule, or donkey, on entering a new stall, is thought to be liable to molestation by fairies. As a precautionary measure, therefore, a little salt is placed on the animal's back, and this is believed to insure freedom from lameness, or other evil resulting from fairy spite. Common salt has long enjoyed a reputation as a means of procuring disenchantment. It was an ingredient of a salve "against nocturnal goblin visitors" used by the Saxons in England, and described in one of their ancient leech-books; while in the annals of folk-medicine are to be found numerous references to its reputed virtues as a magical therapeutic agent. In Scotland, when a person is ailing of some affection whose nature is not apparent, as much salt as can be placed on a sixpence is dissolved in water, and the solution is then applied three times to the soles of the patient's feet, to the palms of his hands, and to his forehead. He is then expected to taste the mixture, a portion of which is thrown over the fire while saying, "Lord, preserve us frae a' skaith."
The Germans of Buffalo valley in central Pennsylvania believe that a boy may be cured of homesickness by placing salt in the hems of his trousers and making him look up the chimney.
In India the natives rub salt and wine on the affected part of the body as a cure for scorpion bites, believing that the success of this treatment is due to the supernatural virtue of the salt in searing away the fiends who caused the pain. An ancient Irish charm of great repute in cases of suspected "fairy-stroke" consisted in placing on a table three equal portions of salt in three parallel rows. The would-be magician then encircles the salt with his arm and repeats the Lord's Prayer thrice over each row. Then, taking the hand of the fairy-struck person, he says over it, "By the power of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, let this disease depart and the spell of evil spirits be broken." Then follows a solemn adjuration and command addressed to the supposed demon, and the charm is complete.
In Bavaria and the Ukraine, in order to ascertain whether a child has been the victim of bewitchment, the mother licks its forehead; and if her sense of taste reveals thereby a marked saline flavor, she is convinced that her child has been under the influence of an evil eye.
In the Swiss canton of Bern a person is believed to be amply fortified against all kinds of spiritual enemies by the simple expedient of carrying a piece of fresh bread and a psalm-book in the right and left coat pockets respectively, provided one is careful to have some rock-salt either in each vest pocket, or inside a briarwood cane upon which three crosses have been cut. In Bohemia a mother seeks to protect her daughter from evil glances by placing a little bread and salt in her pocket; and when a young girl goes out for a walk the mother sprinkles salt on the ground behind her, so that she may not lose her way.
Holy water has been employed in the religious ceremonies of many peoples as a means of purifying both persons and things, and also to keep away demons. Sprinkling and washing with it were important features of the Greek ritual.
The holy water of the Roman Catholic Church is prepared by exorcising and blessing salt and water separately, after which the salt is dissolved in the water and a benediction pronounced upon the mixture. In the Hawaiian ritual, sea-water was sometimes preferred.
A Magyar house-mistress will not give any salt to a woman who may come to the door and ask for it in the early morning, believing that any such would-be borrower is surely a witch; but in order to keep away all witches and hags, she strews salt on the threshold. On St. Lucien's Day neither salt nor fire must be taken out of the house.
Among the Japanese, the mysterious preservative qualities of salt are the source of various superstitions. The mistress of a household will not buy it at night and when purchased in the daytime a small quantity is thrown into the fire in order to prevent discord in the family, and to avert misfortune generally.
In Scotland salt was formerly in high repute as a charm, and the salt-box was the first chattel to be removed to a new dwelling. When Robert Burns, in the year 1789, was about to occupy a new house at Ellisland, he was escorted on his route thither along the banks of the river Nith by a procession of relatives, and in their midst was borne a bowl of salt resting on the family Bible.
In some places in the north of England the giving away of salt is a dangerous procedure; for if the salt thus given comes into the possession of an evil-wisher, it places the donor entirely in the power of such a person.
In upper Egypt, previous to the setting out of a caravan, it is customary for the native women to throw salt on burning coals, which are carried in earthen vessels and set down before the different loads. While so doing they exclaim, "May you be blessed in going and coming," and such incantations they believe render inert all the machinations of evil spirits.
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