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axe, and approached it, declaring that nothing should save the
Oak:—
“ He spoke, and as he pois’d a slanting stroke,
Sighs heav’d and tremblings shook the frighted Oak;
Its leaves look’d sickly, pale its Acorns grew,
And its long branches sweat a chilly dew,
But when his impious hand a wound bestow’d,
Blood from the mangled bark in currents flow’d.
The wonder all amaz’d : yet one more bold,
The fact dissuading, strove his axe to hold;
But the Thessalian, obstinately bent,
Too proud to change, too harden’d to repent,
On his kind monitor his eyes, which burn’d
With rage, and with his eyes his weapon, turn’d ;
Take the reward (says he) of pious dread;—
Then with a blow lopp’d off his parted head.
No longer check’d, the wretch his crime pursued,
Doubled his strokes, and sacrilege renew’d ;
When from the groaning trunk a voice was heard,—
* A Dryad I ,’ by Ceres’ love preferred,
Within the circle of this clasping rind
Coeval grew, and now in ruin join’d ;
But instant vengeance shall thy sin pursue.
And death is cheered with this prophetic view.”
Garth's Ovid.
©F1 * 0 0 f
Ovid, in his ‘ Metamorphoses,’ has told us how, after Daphne
had been changed into a Laurel, the nymph-tree still panted and
heaved her heart; how, when Phaethon’s grief-stricken sisters were
transformed into Poplars, they continued to shed tears, which were
changed into amber ; how Myrrha, metamorphosed into a tree, still
wept, in her bitter grief, the precious drops which retain her name ;
how Dryope, similarly transformed, imparted her life to the
branches, which glowed with a human h e a t; and how the tree into
which the nymph Lotis had been changed, shook with sudden
horror when its blossoms were plucked and blood welled from the
broken stalks. In these poetic conceptions it is easy to see the
embodiment of a belief very rife among the Greeks and Romans
that trees and shrubs were tenanted in some mysterious manner by
spirits. Thus Virgil tells us that when .Elneas had travelled far in
search of the abodes of the blest—
“ He came to groves, of happy souls the rest;
To evergreens, the dwellings of the blest.”
Nor was this notion confined simply to the Greeks and
Romans, for among the ancients generally there existed a widespread
belief that trees were either the haunts of disembodied
spirits, or contained within their material growth the actual spirits
themselves. Evelyn tells us that “ the Ethnics do still repute all
great trees to be divine, and the habitations of souls departed :
iJ 1*00 79
these the Persians call Pir and Imam.” The Persians, however,
entertaining a profound regard for trees of unusual magnitude, were
of opinion that only the spirits of the pure and holy inhabited
them.
In this respect they differed from the Indians, who believed
that both good and evil spirits dwelt in trees. Thus we read in
the story of a Bmhmadaitya (a Bengal folk-tale), of a certain
Banyan-tree haunted by a number of ghosts who wrung the necks
of all who were rash enough to approach the tree during the night.
And, in the same tale, we are told of a Vakula-tree {Mimusops
Elengi) which was the haunt of a Brahmadaitya (the ghost of a
Brahman^ who dies unmarried), who was a kindly and well-
disposed spirit. In another folk-tale we are introduced to the
wife of a Brahman who was attacked by a Sanhchinni, or female
ghost, inhabiting a tree near the Brahman’s house, and thrust by
the vindictive ghost into a hole in the trunk. The Rev. L a i
Behari Day explains that Sankchinnis or Sankhachurnis are female
ghosts of white complexion, who usually stand in the dead of night
at the foot of trees. Sometimes these tree-spirits appear to leave
their usual sylvan abode and enter into human beings, in which
case an exorcist is employed, who detects the presence of the
spirit by lighting a piece of Turmeric root, which is an infallible
test, as no ghost can put up with the smell of burnt Turmeric.
The Shanars, aborigines of India, believe that disembodied
spirits haunt the earth, dwelling in trees, and taking special delight
in forests and solitary places. Against the malignant influence of
these wandering spirits, protection is sought in charms of various
kinds; the leaves of certain trees being esteemed especially efficacious.
Among the Hindus, if an infant refuse its food, and appear
to decline in health, the inference is drawn that an evil spirit has
taken possession of it. As this demon is supposed to dwell in
some particular tree, the mothers of the northern districts of
Bengal frequently destroy the unfortunate infant’s life by depositing
it in a basket, and hanging the same on the demon’s tree,
where it perishes miserably.*
In Burmah the worship of Nats, or spirits of nature, is very
general. Indeed among the Karens, and numerous other tribes,
this spirit-worship is their only form of belief. The shrines of
these Nats are often, in the form of cages, suspended in Peepul
or other trees—by preference the L e ’pan tree, from the wood of
which coffins are made. When a Burman starts on a journey, he
nangs a bunch of Plantains, or a spray of the sacred Eugenia, on
the pole of his buffalo cart, to conciliate any spirit he may intrude
upon. The lonely hunter in the forest deposits some Rice, and
ties together a few leaves, whenever he comes across some
imposing-looking tree, lest there should be a Nat dwelling there.
* ‘ The Land of the Veda,’ by Rev. P. Percival.