BUGS AND BEASTS BEFORE THE LAW It is said that Bartholomew ChassenÉe,[1] a distinguished French jurist of the sixteenth century (born at Issy-l’EvÊque in 1480), made his reputation at the bar as counsel for some rats, which had been put on trial before the ecclesiastical court of Autun on the charge of having feloniously eaten up and wantonly destroyed the barley-crop of that province. On complaint formally presented by the magistracy, the official or bishop’s vicar, who exercised jurisdiction in such cases, cited the culprits to appear on a certain day and appointed ChassenÉe to defend them. In view of the bad repute and notorious guilt of his clients, ChassenÉe was forced to employ all sorts of legal shifts and chicane, dilatory pleas and other technical objections, hoping thereby to find some loophole in the meshes of the law through which the accused might escape, or at least to defer and mitigate the sentence of the judge. He urged, in the first place, that inasmuch as the defendants were dispersed over a large tract of country and dwelt in numerous villages, a single summons was insufficient to notify them all; he succeeded, therefore, in obtaining a second citation, to be published from the pulpits of all the parishes inhabited by the said rats. At the expiration of the considerable time which elapsed before this order could be carried into effect and the proclamation be duly made, he excused the default or non-appearance of his clients on the ground of the length and difficulty of the journey and the serious perils which attended it, owing to the unwearied vigilance of their mortal enemies, the cats, who watched all their movements, and, with fell intent, lay in wait for them at every corner and passage. On this point ChassenÉe addressed the court at some length, in order to show that if a person be cited to appear at a place, to which he cannot come with safety, he may exercise the right of appeal and refuse to obey the writ, even though such appeal be expressly precluded in the summons. The point was argued as seriously as though it were a question of family feud between Capulet and Montague in Verona or Colonna and Orsini in Rome. At a later period of his life ChassenÉe was reminded of the legal principle thus laid down and urged to apply it in favour of clients more worthy of its protection than a horde of vagrant rodents. In 1540 he was president of the judicial assembly known as the Parliament of Provence on a memorable occasion when the iniquitous measure for the extirpation of heresy by exterminating the Waldenses in the villages of CabriÈres and Merindol was under discussion. One of the members of the tribunal, a gentleman from Arles, Renaud d’Alleins, ventured to suggest to the presiding officer that it would be extremely unjust to condemn these unfortunate heretics without granting them a hearing and permitting an advocate to speak in their defence, so that they might be surrounded by all the safeguards of justice, adding that the eminent jurist had formerly insisted upon this right before the court of Autun and maintained that even animals should not be adjudged and sentenced without having a proper person appointed to plead their cause. ChassenÉe thereupon obtained a decree from the king commanding that the accused Waldenses should be heard; but his death, which occurred very soon afterwards, changed the state of affairs and prevented whatever good effects might have been produced by this simple act of justice. [Cf. Desnoyers: Recherches, etc. (vide Bibliography), p. 18.] In the report of the trial published in the ThÉmis Jurisconsulte for 1820 (Tome I. pp. 194 sqq.) by Berriat Saint-Prix, on the authority of the celebrated Jacques Auguste De Thou, President of the Parliament of Paris, the sentence pronounced by the official is not recorded. But whatever the judicial decision may have been, the ingenuity and acumen with which ChassenÉe conducted the defence, the legal learning which he brought to bear upon the case, and the eloquence of his plea enlisted the public interest and established his fame as a criminal lawyer and forensic orator. ChassenÉe is said to have been employed in several cases of this kind, but no records of them seem to have been preserved, although it is possible that they may lie buried in the dusty archives of some obscure provincial town in France, once the seat of an ecclesiastical tribunal. The whole subject, however, has been treated by him exhaustively in a book entitled Consilium primum, quod tractatus jure dici potest, propter multiplicem et reconditam doctrinam, ubi luculenter et accurate tractatur quaestio illa: De excommunicatione animalium insectorum. This treatise, which is the first of sixty-nine consilia, embodying opinions on various legal questions touching the holding and transmission of property, entail, loans, contracts, dowries, wills, and kindred topics, and which holds a peculiar place in the history of jurisprudence, was originally published in 1531, and reprinted in 1581, and again in 1588. The edition referred to in the present work is the first reprint of 1581, a copy of which is in the Royal Court and State Library of Munich.This curious dissertation originated, as it appears, in an application of the inhabitants of Beaune to the ecclesiastical tribunal of Autun for a decree of excommunication against certain noxious insects called huberes or hurebers, probably a kind of locust or harvest-fly. The request was granted, and the pernicious creatures were duly accursed. ChassenÉe now raises the query whether such a thing may be rightfully and lawfully done (sed an recte et de jure fieri possit), and how it should be effected. “The principal question,” he says, “is whether one can by injunction cause such insects to withdraw from a place in which they are doing damage, or to abstain from doing damage there, under penalty of anathema and perpetual malediction. And although in times past there has never been any doubt on this point, yet I have thought that the subject should be thoroughly examined anew, lest I should seem to fall into the vice censured by Cicero (De Off. I. 6), of regarding things which we do not know as if they were well understood by us, and therefore rashly giving them our assent.” He divides his treatise into five parts, or rather discusses the subject under five heads: “First, lest I may seem to discourse to the populace, how are these our animals called in the Latin language; secondly, whether these our animals can be summoned; thirdly, whether they can be summoned by procurators, and, if they are cited to appear personally, whether they can appear by proxy, i.e. through procurators appointed by the judge who summons them; fourthly, what judge, whether layman or ecclesiastic, is competent to try them, and how he is to proceed against them and to pass and execute sentence upon them; fifthly, what constitutes an anathema and how does it differ from an excommunication.” ChassenÉe’s method of investigation is not that of the philosophic thinker, who marshals facts under general laws and traces them to rational causes, but combines that of the lawyer, who quotes precedents and examines witnesses, with that of the theologian, who balances authorities and serves us with texts instead of arguments. He scrupulously avoids all psychological speculation or metaphysical reasoning, and simply aims to show that animals have been tried, convicted, and sentenced by civil and ecclesiastical courts, and that the competence of these tribunals has been generally recognized. The documentary evidence adduced is drawn from a great variety of sources: the scriptures of the Old and New Testament, pagan poets and philosophers, patristic theologians and homilists, mediÆval hagiologists, Virgil, Ovid, Pliny, Cicero, Cato, Aristotle, Seneca, Silius Italicus, Boethius, Gregory the Great, Pico della Mirandola, the laws of Moses, the prophecies of Daniel, and the Institutes of Justinian are alike laid under contribution and quoted as of equal authority. All is fish that comes to his net out of his erudition, be it salmon or sea-urchin. If twelve witnesses can be produced in favour of a statement, and only two against it, his reason bows to the will of the majority, and accepts the proposition as proved. It must be added, however, to his credit, that he proceeds in this matter with strict impartiality and perfect rectitude, takes whatever evidence is at hand, and never tries to pack the witness-box. His knowledge of obscure and now utterly forgotten authors, secular and ecclesiastic, is immense. Like so many scholars of his day he was prodigiously learned, without being remarkable for clearness or originality of thought. Indeed, the vastness of his erudition seems rather to have hampered than helped the vigorous growth of his intellectual faculties. He often indulges in logical subtilties so shallow in their speciousness, that they ought not to deceive the veriest smatterer in dialectics; and the reader is constantly tempted to answer his laboured argumentations, as Tristram Shandy’s Uncle Toby did the lucubrations of Corporal Trim, by “whistling half-a-dozen bars of Lillibullero.” The examples he adduces afford striking illustrations of the gross credulity to which the strongly conservative, precedent-mongering mind of the jurisconsult is apt to fall an easy prey. The habit of seeking knowledge and guidance exclusively in the records and traditions of the past, in the so-called “wisdom of ages,” renders him peculiarly liable to regard every act and utterance of antiquity as necessarily wise and authoritative. In proof of the power of anathemas, ChassenÉe refers to the cursing of the serpent in the Garden of Eden, causing it to go upon its belly for all time; David’s malediction of the mountains of Gilboa, so that they had neither rain nor dew; God’s curse upon the city of Jericho, making its strong walls fall before the blasts of trumpets; and in the New Testament the withered fig-tree of Bethany. The words of Jesus, “Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire,” he interprets, not merely as the best means of getting rid of a cumberer of the orchard, but as a condemnation and punishment of the tree for its delinquencies, and adds: “If, therefore, it is permitted to destroy an irrational thing, because it does not produce fruit, much more is it permitted to curse it, since the greater penalty includes the less” (cum si liceat quid est plus, debet licere quid est minus). An English professor of divinity, Richard Chevenix Trench, justifies the withering of the fruitless fig-tree on the same ground or, at least, by a similar process of reasoning: “It was punished, not for being without fruit, but for proclaiming by the voice of those leaves that it had such; not for being barren, but for being false.” According to this exegesis, it was the telling of a wilful lie that “drew on it the curse.” The guilty fig is thus endowed with a moral character and made clearly conscious of the crime for which it suffered the penalty of death: “Almost as soon as the word of the Lord was spoken, a shuddering fear may have run through all the leaves of the tree, which was thus stricken at the heart.” As regards the culpability and punishableness of the object, the modern divine and the mediÆval jurist occupy the same standpoint; only the latter, with a stricter judicial sense, insists that there shall be no infliction of punishment until the malefactor has been convicted by due process of law, and that he shall enjoy all the safeguards which legal forms and technicalities have thrown around him and under whose covert even the vilest criminal has the right to take refuge. The Anglican hermeneutist, on the contrary, would justify the curse and admit the validity of the anathema, although it was only the angry expression of an unreasonable impatience disappointed in not finding fruit at the wrong season, “for the time of figs was not yet.” A curious and characteristic specimen of the absurd and illogical inferences, which ChassenÉe is constantly deducing from his texts, is the use he makes of the passage in Virgil’s first Georgic, in which the poet remarks that “no religion has forbidden us to draw off water-courses for irrigating purposes, to enclose crops with fences, or to lay snares for birds,” all these things being essential to successful husbandry. But from the right to snare birds, our jurisprudent infers the right to excommunicate them, since “no snares are stronger than the meshes of an anathema.” Far-fetched deductions and wretched twaddle of this sort fill many pages of the famous lawyer’s dissertation. Coming down to more recent times, ChassenÉe mentions several instances of the effectiveness of anathemas, accepting as convincing testimony the ecstacies of saints and the extravagant statements of hagiologists without the slightest expression of doubt as to the truth of these legends. Thus he relates how a priest anathematized an orchard, because its fruits tempted the children of his parish and kept them away from mass. The orchard remained barren until, at the solicitation of the Duchess of Burgundy, the ban was removed. In like manner the Bishop of Lausanne freed Lake Leman from eels, which had become so numerous as seriously to interfere with boating and bathing; on another occasion in the year 1451 the same ecclesiastic expelled from the waters of this lake an immense number of enormous blood-suckers, which threatened to destroy all the large fish and were especially fatal to salmon, the favourite article of food on fast-days. This method of procedure was both cheap and effective and, as Felix Malleolus informs us in his Tractatus de Exorcismis (I), received the approbation of all the learned doctors of the University of Heidelberg: omnes studii Heydelbergensis Doctores hujusmodi ritus videntes et legentes consenserunt. By the same agency an abbot changed the sweet white bread of a Count of Toulouse, who abetted and protected heresy, into black, mouldy bread, so that he, who would fain feed souls with corrupt spiritual food, was forced to satisfy his bodily hunger with coarse and unsavoury provender. No sooner was the excommunication removed than the bread resumed its original purity and colour. Egbert, Bishop of Trier, anathematized the swallows, which disturbed the devotions of the faithful by their chirping and chattering, and sacrilegiously defiled his head and vestments with their droppings, when he was officiating at the altar. He forbade them to enter the sacred edifice on pain of death; and it is still a popular superstition at Trier, that if a swallow flies into the cathedral, it immediately falls to the ground and gives up the ghost. Another holy man, known as John the Lamb, cursed the fishes, which had incurred his anger, with results equally fatal to the finny tribe. It is also related of the honey-tongued St. Bernard, that he excommunicated a countless swarm of flies, which annoyed the worshippers and officiating priests in the abbey church of Foigny, and lo, on the morrow they were, like Sennacherib’s host, “all dead corpses.” William, Abbot of St. Theodore in Rheims, who records this miraculous event, states that as soon as the execration was uttered, the flies fell to the floor in such quantities that they had to be thrown out with shovels (palis ejicientes). This incident, he adds, was so well known that the cursing of the flies of Foigny became proverbial and formed the subject of a parable. [Vita S. Bernardi, auctore Wilhelmo abbate S. Thod. Rhem. I. 11.] According to the usual account, the malediction was not so drastic in its operation and did not cause the flies to disappear until the next day. The rationalist, whose chill and blighting breath is ever nipping the tender buds of faith, would doubtless suggest that a sharp and sudden frost may have added to the force and efficacy of the excommunication. The saint resorted to this severe and summary measure, says the monkish chronicler, because the case was urgent and “no other remedy was at hand.” Perhaps this lack of other means of relief may refer to the absence of “deacons with fly-flaps,” who, according to a contemporary writer, were appointed “to drive away the flies when the Pope celebrateth.” The island Reichenau in Lake Constance, which derives its name from its fertility and is especially famous for the products of its vineyards and its orchards, was once so infested by venomous reptiles as to be uninhabitable by human beings. Early in the eighth century, as the legend goes, it was visited by St. Pirminius, and no sooner had he set foot upon it than these creatures all crawled and wriggled into the water, so that the surface of the lake was covered for three days and three nights with serpents, scorpions and hideous worms. Peculiar vermifugal efficacy was ascribed to the crosier of St. Magnus, the apostle of Algau, which was preserved in the cloister of St. Mang at FÜssen in Bavaria, and from 1685 to 1770 was repeatedly borne in solemn procession to Lucerne, Zug, Schwyz and other portions of Switzerland for the expulsion and extermination of rats, mice, cockchafers and other insects. Sometimes formulas of malediction were procured directly from the pope, which, like saints’ curses, could be applied without legal formalities. Thus in 1660 the inhabitants of Lucerne paid four pistoles and one Roman thaler for a document of this kind; on Nov. 15, 1731, the municipal council of Thonou in Savoy resolved to join with other parishes of that province to obtain from Rome an excommunication against insects, the expenses for which are to be assessed pro rata;[2] in 1740 the commune of Piuro purchased from His Holiness a similar anathema; in the same year the common council of Chiavenna discussed the propriety of applying to Rome for an execratory against beetles and bears; and in December 1752 it was proposed by the same body to take like summary measures in order to get rid of a pest of rodents. In 1729, 1730 and 1749 the municipal council of Lucerne ordered processions to be made on St. Magnus’ Day from the Church of St. Francis to Peter’s Chapel for the purpose of expelling weevils. This custom was observed annually from 1749 to 1798. The pompous ceremony has been superseded in Protestant countries by an officially appointed day of fasting and prayer. In his “First Counsel” ChassenÉe not only treats of methods of procedure, and gives forms of plaints to be drawn up and tendered to the tribunal by the injured party, as well as useful hints to the pettifogger in the exercise of his tortuous and tricky profession, but he also discusses many legal principles touching the jurisdiction of courts, the functions of judges, and other characteristic questions of civil, criminal, and canonical law. Animals, he says, should be tried by ecclesiastical tribunals, except in cases where the penalty involves the shedding of blood. An ecclesiastical judge is not competent in causa sanguinis, and can impose only canonical punishments, although he may have jurisdiction in temporal matters and punish crimes not involving a capital sentence. [Nam judex ecclesiasticus in causa sanguinis non est competens judex, licet habeat jurisdictionem in temporalibus et possit crimina poenam sanguinis non existentia (exigentia is obviously the correct reading) castigare. Cons. prim. IV. § 5.] For this reason the Church never condemned heretics to death, but, having decided that they should die, gave them over to the secular power for formal condemnation, usually under the hollow and hypocritical pretence of recommending them to mercy. In the prosecution of animals the summons was commonly published from the parish pulpit and the whole judicial process bore a distinctively ecclesiastical character. In most cases the presiding judge or official was the vicar of the parish acting as the deputy of the bishop of the diocese. Occasionally the curate officiated in this capacity. Sometimes the trial was conducted before a civil magistrate under the authority of the Church, or the matter was submitted to the adjudication of a conjurer, who, however, appointed two proctors to plead respectively for the plaintiff and the defendant and who rendered his verdict in due legal form. Indeed, the word “conjurer” seems to have been used as a popular designation of the person, whether priest or layman, who exercised judicatory functions in such trials, probably because, as a rule, the sentence could be executed only by conjuration or the invocation of supernatural aid. Another point, which strikes us very comically, but which had to be decided before the trial could proceed, was whether the accused were to be regarded as clergy or laity. ChassenÉe thinks that there is no necessity of testing each individual case, but that animals should be looked upon as lay persons. This, he declares, should be the general presumption; but if any one wishes to affirm that they have ordinem clericatus and are entitled to benefit of clergy, the burden of proof rests upon him and he is bound to show it (deberet estud probare). Probably our jurist would have made an exception in favour of the beetle, which entomologists call clerus; it is certain, at any rate, that if a bug bearing this name had been brought to trial, the learning and acuteness displayed in arguing the point in dispute would have been astounding. We laugh at the subtilties and quiddities of mediÆval theologians, who seriously discussed such silly questions as the digestibility of the consecrated elements in the eucharist; but the importance attached to these trivialities was not so much the peculiarity of a single profession as the mental habit of the age, the result of scholastic training and scholastic methods of investigation, which tainted law no less than divinity. Nevertheless the ancillary relations of all other sciences and disciplines to theology render the latter chiefly responsible for this fatal tendency. ChassenÉe also makes a distinction between punitive and preventive purposes in the prosecution of animals, between inflicting penalties upon them for crimes committed and taking precautionary measures to keep them from doing damage. By this means he seeks to evade the objection, that animals are incapable of committing crimes, because they are not endowed with rational faculties. He then proceeds to show that “things not allowable in respect to crimes already committed are allowable in respect to crimes about to be committed in order to prevent them.” Thus a layman may not arrest an ecclesiastic for a delict fully consummated, but may seize and detain him in order to hinder the consummation of a delict. In such cases, an inferior may coerce and correct a superior; even an irrational creature may put restraint upon a human being and hold him back from wrong-doing. In illustration of this legal point he cites an example from Holy Writ, where “Balaam, the prophet and servant of the Most High, was rebuked by a she-ass.” ChassenÉe endeavours to clinch his argument as usual by quoting biblical texts and adducing incidents from legendary literature. The province of zoÖ-psychology, which would have furnished him with better material for the elucidation of his subject, he leaves untouched, simply because it was unknown to him. If crime consists in the commission of deeds hurtful to other sentient beings, knowing such actions to be wrong, then the lower animals are certainly guilty of criminal offences. It is a well-established fact, that birds, beasts and insects, living together in communities, have certain laws, which are designed to promote the general welfare of the herd, the flock or the swarm, and the violation of which by individual members they punish corporally or capitally as the case may require. It is likewise undeniable, that domestic animals often commit crimes against man and betray a consciousness of the nature of their acts by showing fear of detection or by trying to conceal what they have done. Man, too, recognizes their moral responsibility by inflicting chastisement upon them, and sometimes feels justified in putting incorrigible offenders, a vicious bull, a thievish cat or a sheep-killing dog, summarily to death. Of course this kind of punishment is chiefly preventive, nevertheless it is provoked by acts already perpetrated and is not wholly free from the element of retributive justice. Such a proceeding, however, is arbitrary and autocratic, and if systematically applied to human beings would be denounced as intolerable tyranny. ChassenÉe insists that under no circumstances is a penalty to be imposed except by judicial decision—nam poena nunquam imponitur, nisi lex expresse dicat—and in support of this principle refers to the apostle Paul, who declares that “sin is not imputed when there is no law.” He appears to think that any technical error would vitiate the whole procedure and reduce the ban of the Church to mere brutum fulmen. If he lays so great stress upon the observance of legal forms, which in the criminal prosecution of brute beasts strike us as the caricature and farce of justice, it is because he deems them essential to the effectiveness of an excommunication. The slightest mispronunciation of a word, an incorrect accentuation or false intonation in uttering a spell suffices to dissolve the charm and nullify the occult workings of the magic. The lack of a single link breaks the connection and destroys the binding force of the chain; everything must be “well-thought, well-said and well-done,” not ethically, but ritually, as prescribed in the old Avestan formula: humata hÛkhta huvarshta. All the mutterings and posturings, which accompany the performance of a Brahmanical sacrifice, or a Catholic mass, or any other kind of incantation have their significance, and none of them can be omitted without marring the perfection of the ceremonial and impairing its power. An anathema of animals pronounced in accordance with the sentence passed upon them by a tribunal, belongs to the same category of conjurations and is rendered nugatory by any formal defect or judicial irregularity. Sometimes the obnoxious vermin were generously forewarned. Thus the grand-vicars of Jean Rohin, Cardinal Bishop of Autun, having been informed that slugs were devastating several estates in different parts of his diocese, on the 17th of August, 1487, ordered public processions to be made for three days in every parish, and enjoined upon the said slugs to quit the territory within this period under penalty of being accursed. On the 8th of September, 1488, a similar order was issued at Beaujeu. The curates were charged to make processions during the offices, and the slugs were warned three times to cease from vexing the people by corroding and consuming the herbs of the fields and the vines, and to depart; “and if they do not heed this our command, we excommunicate them and smite them with our anathema.” In 1516, the official of Troyes pronounced sentence on certain insects (adversus brucos seu eurucas vel alia non dissimilia animalia, GallicÈ urebecs, probably a species of curculio), which laid waste the vines, and threatened them with anathema, unless they should disappear within six days. Here it is expressly stated that a counsellor was assigned to the accused, and a prosecutor heard in behalf of the aggrieved inhabitants. As a means of rendering the anathema more effective, the people are also urged to be prompt and honest in the payment of tithes. ChassenÉe, too, endorses this view, and in proof of its correctness refers to Malachi, where God promises to rebuke the devourer for man’s sake, provided all the tithes are brought into the storehouse. The archives of the old episcopal city of St. Jean-de-Maurienne contain the original records of legal proceedings instituted against some insects, which had ravaged the vineyards of St. Julien, a hamlet situated on the route over Mt. Cenis and famous for the excellence of its vintage. The defendants in this case were a species of greenish weevil (charanÇon) known to entomologists as rychites auratus, and called by different names, amblevin, bÈche, verpillion, in different provinces of France. Complaint was first made by the wine-growers of St. Julien in 1545 before FranÇois Bonnivard, doctor of laws. The procurator Pierre Falcon and the advocate Claude Morel defended the insects, and Pierre Ducol appeared for the plaintiffs. After the presentation and discussion of the case by both parties, the official, instead of passing sentence, issued a proclamation, dated the 8th of May, 1546, recommending public prayers and beginning with the following characteristic preamble: “Inasmuch as God, the supreme author of all that exists, hath ordained that the earth should bring forth fruits and herbs (animas vegetativas), not solely for the sustenance of rational human beings, but likewise for the preservation and support of insects, which fly about on the surface of the soil, therefore it would be unbecoming to proceed with rashness and precipitance against the animals now actually accused and indicted; on the contrary, it would be more fitting for us to have recourse to the mercy of heaven and to implore pardon for our sins.” Then follow instructions as to the manner in which the public prayers are to be conducted in order to propitiate the divine wrath. The people are admonished to turn to the Lord with pure and undivided hearts (ex toto et puro corde), to repent of their sins with unfeigned contrition, and to resolve to live henceforth justly and charitably, and above all to pay tithes. High mass is to be celebrated on three consecutive days, namely on May 20th, 21st, and 22nd, and the host to be borne in solemn procession with songs and supplications round the vineyards. The first mass is to be said in honour of the Holy Spirit, the second in honour of the Blessed Virgin, and the third in honour of the tutelar saint of the parish. At least two persons of each household are required to take part in these religious exercises. A procÈs-verbal, signed by the curate Romanet, attests that this programme was fully carried out and that the insects soon afterwards disappeared. About thirty years later, however, the scourge was renewed and the destructive insects were actually brought to trial. The proceedings are recorded on twenty-nine folia and entitled: De actis scindicorum communitatis Sancti Julliani agentium contra animalia bruta ad formam muscarum volantia coloris viridis communi voce appellata verpillions seu amblevins. The documents, which are still preserved in the archives of St. Julien, were communicated by M. Victor Dalbane, secretary of the commune, to M. LÉon MÉnebrÉa, who printed them in the appendix to his volume: De l’origine de la forme et de l’esprit des jugements rendus au moyen-Âge contre les animaux. Chambery, 1846. This treatise appeared originally in the twelfth tome of the MÉmoires de la SociÉtÉ Royale AcadÉmique de Savoie. It may be proper to add that MÉnebrÉa’s theory of “the spirit, in which these judgments against animals were given,” is wholly untenable. He maintains that “these procedures formed originally only a kind of symbol intended to revive the sentiment of justice among the masses of the people, who knew of no right except might and of no law except that of intimidation and violence. In the Middle Ages, when disorder reigned supreme, when the weak remained without support and without redress against the strong, and property was exposed to all sorts of attacks and all forms of ravage and rapine, there was something indescribably beautiful in the thought of assimilating the insect of the field to the masterpiece of creation and putting them on an equality before the law. If man should be taught to respect the home of the worm, how much more ought he to regard that of his fellow-man and learn to rule in equity.” This explanation is very fine in sentiment, but expresses a modern, and not a mediÆval way of thinking. The penal prosecution of animals, which prevailed during the Middle Ages, was by no means peculiar to that period, but has been frequently practised by primitive peoples and savage tribes; neither was it designed to inculcate any such moral lesson as is here suggested, nor did it produce any such desirable result. So far from originating in a delicate and sensitive sense of justice, it was, as will be more fully shown hereafter, the outcome of an extremely crude, obtuse, and barbaric sense of justice. It was the product of a social state, in which dense ignorance was governed by brute force, and is not to be considered as a reaction and protest against club-law, which it really tended to foster by making a travesty of the administration of justice and thus turning it into ridicule. It was also in the interest of ecclesiastical dignities to keep up this parody and perversion of a sacred and fundamental institute of civil society, since it strengthened their influence and extended their authority by subjecting even the caterpillar and the canker-worm to their dominion and control. But to return to the records of the trial. On the 13th of April, 1587, the case was laid before “his most reverend lordship, the prince-bishop of Maurienne, or the reverend lord his vicar-general and official” by the syndics and procurators, FranÇois Amenet and Petremand Bertrand, who, in the name of the inhabitants of St. Julien, presented the following statement and petition: “Formerly by virtue of divine services and earnest supplications the scourge and inordinate fury of the aforesaid animals did cease; now they have resumed their depredations and are doing incalculable injury. If the sins of men are the cause of this evil, it behoveth the representatives of Christ on earth to prescribe such measures as may be appropriate to appease the divine wrath. Wherefore we the afore-mentioned syndics, FranÇois Amenet and Petremand Bertrand, do appear anew (ex integro) and beseech the official, first, to appoint another procurator and advocate for the insects in place of the deceased Pierre Falcon and Claude Morel, and secondly, to visit the grounds and observe the damage, and then to proceed with the excommunication.” In compliance with this request, the distinguished Antoine Filliol was appointed procurator for the insects, with a moderate fee (salario moderato), and Pierre Rembaud their advocate. The parties appeared before the official on the 30th day of May and the case was adjourned to the 6th of June, when the advocate, Pierre Rembaud, presented his answer to the declaration of the plaintiffs, showing that their action is not maintainable and that they should be nonsuited. After approving of the course pursued by his predecessor in office, he affirms that his clients have kept within their right and not rendered themselves liable to excommunication, since, as we read in the sacred book of Genesis, the lower animals were created before man, and God said to them: Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind; and he blessed them saying, Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters of the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth. Now the Creator would not have given this command, had he not intended that these creatures should have suitable and sufficient means of support; indeed, he has expressly stated that to every thing that creepeth upon the earth every green herb has been given for meat. It is therefore evident that the accused, in taking up their abode in the vines of the plaintiffs, are only exercising a legitimate right conferred upon them at the time of their creation. Furthermore, it is absurd and unreasonable to invoke the power of civil and canonical law against brute beasts, which are subject only to natural law and the impulses of instinct. The argument urged by the counsel for the plaintiffs, that the lower animals are made subject to man, he dismisses as neither true in fact nor pertinent to the present case. He suggests that the complainants, instead of instituting judicial proceedings, would do better to entreat the mercy of heaven and to imitate the Ninevites, who, when they heard the warning voice of the prophet Jonah, proclaimed a fast and put on sackcloth. In conclusion, he demands that the petition of the plaintiffs be dismissed, the monitorium revoked and annulled, and all further proceedings stayed, to which end the gracious office of the judge is humbly implored (humiliter implorato benigno officio judicis). The case was adjourned to the 12th and finally to the 19th of June, when Petremand Bertrand, the prosecuting attorney, presented a lengthy replication, of which the defendants’ advocate demanded a copy with due time for deliberation. This request led to a further adjournment till the 26th of June, but as this day turned out to be a dies feriatus or holiday, no business could be transacted until the 27th, when the advocate of the commune, FranÇois Fay (who seems to have taken the place of Amenet, if he be not the same person), in reply to the defendants’ plea, argued that, although the animals were created before man, they were intended to be subordinate to him and subservient to his use, and that this was, indeed, the reason of their prior creation. They have no raison d’Être except as they minister to man, who was made to have dominion over them, inasmuch as all things have been put under his feet, as the Psalmist asserts and the apostle Paul reiterates. On this point, he concludes, our opponent has added nothing refutatory of the views, which have been held from time immemorial by our ancestors; we need only refer to the opinions formerly expressed by the honourable Hippolyte Ducol as satisfactory. The advocate for the defence merely remarked that he had not yet received the document ordered on the 19th of June, and the further consideration of the case was postponed till the 4th of July. Antoine Filliol then made a rejoinder to the plaintiffs’ replication, denying that the subordination of the lower animals to man involves the right of excommunicating them, and insisting upon his former position, which the opposing counsel had not even attempted to disprove, namely, that the lower animals are subject solely to natural law, “a law originating in the eternal reason and resting upon a basis as immutable as that of the divine law of revelation, since they are derived from the same source, namely, the will and power of God.” It is evident, he adds, that the action brought by the plaintiffs is not maintainable and that judgment should be given accordingly. On the 18th of July, the same parties appear before the official of St. Jean-de-Maurienne. The procurator of the insects demands that the case be closed and the plaintiffs debarred from drawing up any additional statements or creating any further delay by the introduction of irrelevant matter, and requests that a decision be rendered on the documents and declarations already adduced. The prosecuting attorney, whose policy seems to have been to keep the suit pending as long as possible, applies for a new term (alium terminum), which was granted.Meanwhile, in view of the law’s long delay, other measures were taken for the speedier adjustment of the affair by compromise. On the 29th of June, 1587, a public meeting was called at noon immediately after mass on the great square of St. Julien, known as Parloir d’Amont, to which all hinds and habitants (manants et habitants) were summoned by the ringing of the church bell to consider the propriety and necessity of providing for the said animals a place outside of the vineyards of St. Julien, where they might obtain sufficient sustenance without devouring and devastating the vines of the said commune. This meeting appears to have been held by the advice of the plaintiffs’ advocate, FranÇois Fay, and at the suggestion of the official. A piece of ground in the vicinity was selected and set apart as a sort of insect enclosure, the inhabitants of St. Julien, however, reserving for themselves the right to pass through the said tract of land, “without prejudice to the pasture of the said animals,” and to make use of the springs of water contained therein, which are also to be at the service of the said animals; they reserve furthermore the right of working the mines of ochre and other mineral colours found there, without doing detriment to the means of subsistence of said animals, and finally the right of taking refuge in this spot in time of war or in case of like distress. The place chosen is called La Grand Feisse and described with the exactness of a topographical survey, not only as to its location and dimensions, but also as to the character of its foliage and herbage. The assembled people vote to make this appropriation of land and agree to draw up a conveyance of it “in good form and of perpetual validity,” provided the procurator and advocate of the insects may, on visitation and inspection of the ground, express themselves satisfied with such an arrangement; in witness whereof the protocol is signed “L. Prunier, curial,” and stamped with the seal of the commune. But this attempt of the inhabitants to conciliate the insects and to settle their differences by mutual concessions did not put an end to the litigation. On the 24th of July, an “Extract from the Register of the Curiality of St. Julien,” containing the proceedings of the public meeting, was submitted to the court by Petremand Bertrand, procurator of the plaintiffs, who called attention to the very generous offer made by the commune and prayed the official to order the grant to be accepted on the conditions specified, and to cause the defendants to vacate the vineyards and to forbid them to return to the same on pain of excommunication. Antoine Filliol, procurator of the insects, requested a copy of the procÈs-verbal and time for deliberation. The court complied with this request and adjourned the case till “the first juridical day after the harvest vacation,” which fell on the 11th of August, and again by common consent till the 20th of the same month. At this time, Charles Emanuel I., Duke of Savoy, was preparing to invade the Marquisate of Saluzzo, and the confusion caused by the expedition of troops over Mt. Cenis interfered with the progress of the trial, which was postponed till the 27th of August, and again, since the passage of armed men was still going on (actento transitu armigerorum), till the 3rd of September, when Antoine Filliol declared that he could not accept for his clients the offer made by the plaintiffs, because the place was sterile and neither sufficiently nor suitably supplied with food for the support of the said animals; he demanded, therefore, that the proposal be rejected and the action dismissed with costs to the complainants (petit agentes repelli cum expensis). The “egregious Petremand Bertrand,” in behalf of the plaintiffs, denies the correctness of this statement and avers that the spot selected and set apart as an abode for the insects is admirably adapted to this purpose, being full of trees and shrubs of divers kinds, as stated in the conveyance prepared by his clients, all of which he is ready to verify. He insists, therefore, upon an adjudication in his favour. The official took the papers of both parties and reserved his decision, appointing experts, who should in the meantime examine the place, which the plaintiffs had proffered as an asylum for the insects, and submit a written report upon the fitness of the same. The final decision of the case, after such careful deliberation and so long delay, is rendered doubtful by the unfortunate circumstance that the last page of the records has been destroyed by rats or bugs of some sort. Perhaps the prosecuted weevils, not being satisfied with the results of the trial, sent a sharp-toothed delegation into the archives to obliterate and annul the judgment of the court. At least nothing should be thought incredible or impossible in the conduct of creatures, which were deemed worthy of being summoned before ecclesiastical tribunals and which succeeded as criminals in claiming the attention and calling forth the legal learning and acumen of the greatest jurists of their day. In the margin of the last page are some interesting items of expenses incurred: “pro visitatione III flor.,” by which we are to understand three florins to the experts, who were appointed to visit the place assigned to the insects; then “solverunt scindici Sancti Julliani incluso processu Animalium sigillo ordinationum et pro copia que competat in processu dictorum Animalium omnibus inclusis XVI flor.,” which may be summed up as sixteen florins for clerical work including seals; finally, “item pro sportulis domini vicarii III flor.,” three florins to the vicar, who acted as the bishop’s official and did not receive a regular fee, but was not permitted to go away empty-handed. The date, which follows, Dec. 20, 1587, may be assumed to indicate the time at which the trial came to an end, after a pendency of more than eight months. (Vide Appendix A.) In the legal proceedings just described, two points are presented with great clearness and seem to be accepted as incontestable: first, the right of the insects to adequate means of subsistence suited to their nature. This right was recognized by both parties; even the prosecution did not deny it, but only maintained that they must not trespass cultivated fields and destroy the fruits of man’s labour. The complainants were perfectly willing to assign to the weevils an uncultivated tract of ground, where they could feed upon such natural products of the soil as were not due to human toil and tillage. Secondly, no one appears to have doubted for a moment that the Church could, by virtue of its anathema, compel these creatures to stop their ravages and cause them to go from one place to another. Indeed, a firm faith in the existence of this power was the pivot on which the whole procedure turned, and without it, the trial would have been a dismal farce in the eyes of all who took part in it. It is related in the chronicles of an ancient abbey (Le PÈre Rochex: Gloire de l’Abbaye et VallÉe de la Novalaise), that St. Eldrad commanded the snakes, which infested the environs of a priory in the valley of BrianÇon, to depart, and, taking a staff in his hand, conducted them to a desert place and shut them up in a cave, where they all miserably perished. Perhaps the serpent, which suffered Satan to take possession of its seductive form and thus played such a fatal part in effecting the fall of man and in introducing sin into the world, may have been regarded as completely out of the pale and protection of law, and as having no rights which an ecclesiastical excommunicator or a wonder-working saint would be bound to respect. As a rule, however, such an arbitrary abuse of miraculous power to the injury or destruction of God’s creatures was considered illegal and unjustifiable, although irascible anchorites and other holy men under strong provocation often gave way to it. MediÆval jurists frowned upon summary measures of this sort, just as modern lawyers condemn the practice of lynch-law as mobbish and essentially seditious, and only to be excused as a sudden outburst of public indignation at some exceptionally brutal outrage. Properly speaking, animals cannot be excommunicated, but only anathematized; just as women, according to old English law, having no legal status of their own and not being bound in frankpledge as members of the decennary or tithable community, could not be outlawed, but only “waived” or abandoned. This form of ban, while differing theoretically from actual outlawry, was practically the same in its effects upon the individual subjected to it. Excommunication is, as the etymology of the word implies, the exclusion from the communion of the Church and from whatever spiritual or temporal advantages may accrue to a person from this relation. It is one of the consequences of an anathema, but is limited in its operation to members of the ecclesiastical body, to which the lower animals do not belong. This was the generally accepted view, and is the opinion maintained by Gaspard Bailly, advocate and councillor of the Sovereign Senate of Savoy, in his TraitÉ des Monitoires, avec un Plaidoyer contre les Insects, printed at Lyons in 1668, but it has not always been held by writers on this subject, some of whom do not recognize this distinction between anathema and excommunication on the authority of many passages of Holy Writ, affirming that, as the whole creation was corrupted by the fall, so the atonement extends to all living creatures, which are represented as longing for the day of their redemption and regeneration. One of the strong points made by the counsel for the defence in prosecutions of this kind was that these insects were sent to punish man for his sins, and should therefore be regarded as agents and emissaries of the Almighty, and that to attempt to destroy them or to drive them away would be to fight against God (s’en prendre À Dieu). Under such circumstances, the proper thing to do would be, not to seek legal redress and to treat the noxious creatures as criminals, but to repent and humbly to entreat an angry Deity to remove the scourge. This is still the standpoint of Christian orthodoxy, Protestant as well as Catholic, and the argument applies with equal force to the impious and atheistic substitution of Paris green and the chlorate of lime for prayer and fasting as exterminators of potato-bugs. The modern, like the mediÆval horticulturist may ward off devouring vermin from his garden by the use of ashes, but he strews them on his plants instead of sprinkling them on his own head, and thus indicates to what extent scientific have superseded theological methods in the practical affairs of life. Thomas Aquinas, the “angelic doctor,” in his Summa TheologiÆ raises the query, whether it is permissible to curse irrational creatures (utrum liceat irrationabiles creaturas adjurare). He states, in the first place, that curses and blessings can be pronounced only upon such things as are susceptible of receiving evil or good impressions from them, or in other words, upon sentient and rational beings, or upon irrational creatures and insentient things in their relation to rational beings, so that the latter are the objects ultimately aimed at and favourably or unfavourably affected. Thus God cursed the earth, because it is essential to a man’s subsistence; Jesus cursed the barren fig-tree symbolizing the Jews, who made a great show of leafage in the form of rites and ceremonies, but bore no fruits of righteousness; Job cursed the day on which he was born, because he took from his mother’s womb the taint of original sin; David cursed the rocks and mountains of Gilboa, because they were stained with the blood of “the beauty of Israel”; in like manner the Lord sends locusts and blight and mildew to destroy the harvests, because these are intimately connected with the happiness of mankind, whose sins he wishes to punish. It is laid down as a legal maxim by mediÆval jurisprudents that no animal devoid of understanding can commit a fault (nec enim potest animal injuriam fecisse quod sensu caret). This doctrine is endorsed by the great theologian and scholastic Thomas of Aquino. If we regard the lower animals, he says, as creatures coming from the hand of God and employed by him as agents for the execution of his judgments, then to curse them would be blasphemous; if, on the other hand, we curse them secundem se, i.e. merely as brute beasts, then the malediction is odious and vain and therefore unlawful (est odiosum et vanum et per consequens illicitum). There is, however, another ground, on which the right of excommunication or anathematization may be asserted and fully vindicated, namely, that the lower animals are satellites of Satan “instigated by the powers of hell and therefore proper to be cursed,” as the Doctor angelicus puts it. ChassenÉe refers to this opinion in the treatise already cited (I. § 75), and adds “the anathema then is not to be pronounced against the animals as such, but should be hurled inferentially (per modum conclusionis) at the devil, who makes use of irrational creatures to our detriment.” This notion seems to have been generally accepted in the Middle Ages, and the fact that evil spirits are often mentioned in the Bible metaphorically or symbolically as animals and assumed to be incarnate in the adder, the asp, the basilisk, the dragon, the lion, the leviathan, the serpent, the scorpion, etc., was considered confirmatory of this view. But not all animals were regarded as diabolical incarnations; on the contrary, many were revered as embodiments and emblems of divine perfections. In a work entitled Le Liure du Roy Modus et de la Reyne Racio (The Book of King Mode and Queen Reason), which, as the colophon records, was “printed at Chambery by Anthony Neyret in the year of grace one thousand four hundred and eighty-six on the thirtieth day of October,” King Mode discourses on falconry and venery in general. Queen Reason brings forward, in reply to these rather conventional commonplaces, “several fine moralities,” and dilates on the natural and mystic qualities of animals, which she divides into two classes, sweet beasts (bestes doulces) and stenchy beasts (bestes puantes). Foremost among the sweet beasts stands that which Milton characterizes as “Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind.” According to the Psalmist, the hart panting after the water-brooks represents the soul thirsting for the living God and is the type of religious ardour and aspiration. It plays an important part in the legends of saints, acts as their guide, shows them where holy relics are concealed, and causes St. Eustace and St. Hubert to abandon the chase and to lead lives of pious devotion by appearing to them with a luminous cross between its antlers. The ten branches of its horns symbolize the ten commandments of the Old Testament and signify in the Roman ritual the ten fingers of the outstretched hand of the priest as he works the perpetual miracle of transubstantiation of the eucharist. Chief of the stenchy beasts is the pig. In paganism, which to the Christians was merely devil-worship, the boar was an object of peculiar adoration; for this reason the farrow of the sow is supposed to number seven shotes, corresponding to the seven deadly sins. To the same class of offensive beasts belong the wolf, typical of bad spiritual shepherds, and the fox, which is described as follows: “Reynard is a beast of small size, with red hair, a long bushy tail and an evil physiognomy, for his visage is thin and sharp, his eyes deep-set and piercing, his ears small, straight and pointed; moreover he is deceitful and tricky above all other beasts and exceedingly malicious.” “We are all,” adds Queen Reason in a moralizing strain, “more or less of the brotherhood of Saint Fausset, whose influence is now-a-days quite extended.” Among birds the raven is pre-eminently a malodorous creature and imp of Satan, whereas the dove is a sweet beast and the chosen vessel for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the form in which the third person of the Trinity became incarnate. This division of beasts corresponds in principle to that which is given in the Avesta, and according to which all animals are regarded as belonging either to the good creation of Ahuramazda or to the evil creation of AngrÔ-mainyush. The world is the scene of perpetual conflict between these hostile forces summed up in the religion and ethics of Zarathushtra as the trinity of the good thought, the good word, and the good deed (humata, hÛkhta, huvarshta), which are to be fostered in opposition to the evil thought, the evil word, and the evil deed (dushmata, duzhÛkhta, duzhvarshta), which are to be constantly combated and finally suppressed. Every man is called upon by the Iranian prophet to choose between these contraries; and not only the present and future state of his own soul, the complexion of his individual character, but also the welfare of the whole world, the ultimate destiny of the universe, depend, to no inconsiderable extent, upon his choice. His thoughts, words, and deeds do not cease with the immediate effect which they are intended to produce, but, like force in the physical world, are persistent and indestructible. As the very slightest impulse given to an atom of matter communicates itself to every other atom, and thus disturbs the equilibrium of the globe—the footfall of a child shaking the earth to its centre—so the influence of every human life, however small, contributes to the general increase and ascendency of either good or evil, and helps to determine which of these principles shall ultimately triumph. In the universal strife of these “mighty opposites,” the vicious are the allies of the devil; while the virtuous are not merely engaged in working out their own salvation, but have also the ennobling consciousness of being fellow-combatants with the Deity, who needs and appreciates their services in overcoming the adversary. This sense of solidarity with the Best and the Highest imparts additional elevation and peculiar dignity to human aims and actions, and lends to devotion a warmth of sympathy and fervour of enthusiasm springing from personal attachment and loyalty, which it is difficult for the Religion of Humanity to inspire. The fact, too, that evil exists in the world, not by the will and design of the Good Being, but in spite of him, and that all his powers are put forth to eradicate it, while detracting from his omnipotence, frees him from all moral obliquity and exalts his character for benevolence, thus rendering him far more worthy of love and worship and a much better model for human imitation than that “dreadful idealization of wickedness” which is called God in the Calvinistic creed. The idea that the humblest person may, by the purity and rectitude of his life, not only strengthen himself in virtue, but also increase the actual aggregate of goodness in the universe and even endue the Deity with greater power and aggressive energy in subduing and extirpating evil, is surely a sublime thought and a source of lofty inspiration and encouragement in well-doing, although it has been degraded by Parsi Dasturs—as all grand conceptions and ideals are apt to be under priestly influences—into a ridiculous and childish hatred of snakes, scorpions, frogs, lizards, water-rats, and other animals supposed to have been produced by AngrÔ-mainyush. Plato held a similar theory of creation, regarding it not as the manifestation of pure benevolence endowed with almighty power, but rather as the expression of perfect goodness working at disadvantage in an intractable material, which by its inherent stubbornness prevented the full embodiment and realization of the original purpose and desire of the Creator or Cosmourgos, who was therefore obliged to content himself with what was, under the circumstances, the only possible, but by no means the best imaginable, world. The Manicheans attributed the same unsatisfactory result to the activity of an evil principle, which thwarted the complete actualization of the designs of the Deity. So conspicuous, indeed, is the defectiveness of nature as a means of promoting the highest conceivable human happiness, so marked and manifold are the causes of suffering in all spheres of sentient existence, and so often do the elements seem to conspire for the destruction of mankind, raging relentlessly like a wild beast “Red in tooth and claw With ravin,” that every cosmogony has been compelled to assume the persistent intervention of some malignant spirit or perverse agency as the only rational explanation of such a condition of things. The orthodox Christianity of to-day gives over the earth entirely to the sovereignty of Satan, the successful usurper of Eden, and instead of bidding the righteous to look forward to the final re-enthronement and absolute supremacy of truth and goodness in this world as the “One far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves,” consoles them with the vague promise of compensation in a future state of being. Even this remote prospect of redemption is confined to a select few; not only is the earth destined to be burned with fire on account of its utter corruption, but the great majority of its inhabitants are doomed to eternal torments in the abode of evil spirits. Scientific research also leads to the same conclusions in respect to the incompleteness of Nature’s handiwork, which it is the function of art and culture to amend and improve. Everywhere the correcting hand and contriving brain of man are needed to eliminate the worthless and noxious productions, in which Nature is so fatally prolific, and to foster and develop those that are useful and salutary, thus beautifying and ennobling all forms of vegetable and animal life. By a like process man himself has attained his present pre-eminence. Through long ages of strife and struggle he has emerged from brutishness and barbarism, and rising by a slow, spiral ascent, scarcely perceptible for generations, has been able gradually to “Move upward, working out the beast, And let the ape and tiger die.” The more man increases in wisdom and intellectual capacity, the more efficient he becomes as a co-worker with the good principle. At the same time, every advance which he makes in civilization brings with it some new evil for him to overcome; or, as the Parsi would express it mythologically, every conquest achieved by Ahuramazda and his allies stimulates AngrÔmainyush and his satellites to renewed exertions, who convert the most useful discoveries, like dynamite, into instruments of diabolical devastation. The opening of the Far West in the United States to agriculture and commerce, and the completion of the Pacific Railroad, not only served to multiply and diffuse the gifts of the beneficent and bountiful spirit (speÑtÔ mainyush), but also facilitated the propagation and spread of the plagues of the grasshopper and the Colorado beetle. The power of destruction insidiously concealed in the minutest insect organism often exceeds that of the tornado and the earthquake, and baffles the most persistent efforts of human ingenuity to resist it. The genius and energy of Pasteur were devoted for years to the task of detecting and destroying a microscopic parasite, which threatened to ruin for ever the silk industry of France; and the Phylloxera and Doryphora still continue to ravage with comparative impunity the vineyards of Europe and the potato-fields of America, defying at once all the appliances of science for their extermination and all the attempts of casuistic theology to reconcile such scourges with a perfectly benevolent and omnipotent Creator and Ruler of the Universe. It is the observation of phenomena like these that confirms the modern Parsi in the faith of his fathers, and reveals to him, in the operations of nature and the conflicts of life, unquestionable evidences of a contest between warring elements personified as Hormazd and Ahriman, the ultimate issue of which is to be the complete triumph of the former and the consequent purification and redemption of the world from the curse of evil. The Parsi, however, recognizes no Saviour, and repudiates as absurd and immoral any scheme of atonement whereby the burden of sin can be shifted from the shoulders of the guilty to those of an innocent, vicarious victim. Every person must be redeemed by his own good thoughts, words, and deeds, as creation must be redeemed by the good thoughts, words, and deeds of the race. After death, the character of each individual thus formed appears to him, either in the form of a beautiful and brilliant maiden, who leads him over the Chinvad (or gatherer’s) bridge, into the realms of everlasting light, or in the form of a foul harlot, who thrusts him down into regions of eternal gloom. But to return from this digression; it is not only in the Venidad that certain classes of animals are declared to be creations of the archfiend, and therefore embodiments of devils; additional proofs of this doctrine were derived by mediÆval writers from biblical and classical sources. A favourite example was the metamorphosis of Nebuchadnezzar, who, when given over to Satan, dwelt with the beasts of the field and ate grass as oxen, while his hair grew like eagles’ feathers and his nails like birds’ claws. Still more numerous and striking instances of this kind were drawn from pagan mythology, which, being of diabolical origin, would naturally be prolific of such phenomena. Thus, besides centaurs and satyrs, “dire chimeras” and other “delicate monsters,” there were hybrids like the semi-dragon Cecrops and transformations by which Io became a heifer, DÆdalion a sparrow-hawk, Corone a crow, ActÆon a stag, Lyncus a lynx, MÆra a dog, Calisto a she-bear, Antigone a stork, Arachne a spider, Iphigenia a roe, Talus a partridge, Itys a pheasant, Tereus Ascalaphus and Nyctimene owls, Philomela a nightingale, Progne a swallow, Cadmus and his spouse Harmonia snakes, Decertis a fish, Galanthis a weasel, and the warriors of Diomedes birds, while the companions of Ulysses were changed by Circe, the prototype of the modern witch, into swine. All these metamorphoses are adduced as the results of Satanic agencies and proofs of the tendency of evil spirits to manifest themselves in bestial forms. Towards the end of the ninth century the region about Rome was visited by a dire plague of locusts. A reward was offered for their extermination and the peasants gathered and destroyed them by millions; but all efforts were in vain, since they propagated faster than it was possible to kill them. Finally Pope Stephen VI. prepared great quantities of holy water and had the whole country sprinkled with it, whereupon the locusts immediately disappeared. The formula used in consecrating the water and devoting it to this purpose implies the diabolical character of the vermin against which it was directed: “I adjure thee, creature water, I adjure thee by the living God, by Him, who at the beginning separated thee from the dry land, by the true God, who caused thee to fertilize the garden of Eden and parted thee into four heads, by Him, who at the marriage of Cana changed thee into wine, I adjure thee that thou mayst not suffer any imp or phantom to abide in thy substance, that thou mayst be indued with exorcising power and become a source of salvation, so that when thou art sprinkled on the fruits of the field, on vines, on trees, on human habitations in the city or in the country, on stables, or on flocks, or if any one may touch or taste thee, thou shalt become a remedy and a relief from the wiles of Satan, that through thee plagues and pestilence may be driven away, that through contact with thee weevils and caterpillars, locusts and moles may be dispersed and the maliciousness of all visible and invisible powers hostile to man may be brought to nought.” In the prayers which follow, the water is entreated to “preserve the fruits of the earth from insects, mice, moles, serpents and other foul spirits.” This subject was treated in a lively and entertaining manner by a Jesuit priest, PÈre Bougeant, in a book entitled Amusement Philosophique sur le Langage des Bestes, which was written in the form of a letter addressed to a lady and published at Paris in 1739. In the first place, the author refers to the intelligence shown by animals and refutes the Cartesian theory that they are mere machines or animated automata. This tenet, we may add, was not original with Descartes, but was set forth at length by a Spanish physician, Gomez Pereira, in a bulky Latin volume bearing the queer dedicatory title: “Antoniana Margarita opus nempe physicis, medicis ac theologis non minus utile quam necessarium,” and printed in 1554, nearly a century before the publication of Descartes’ Meditationes de prima philosophia and Principia philosophiae, which began a new epoch in the history of philosophy. If animals are nothing but ingenious pieces of mechanism, argues the Jesuit father, then the feelings of a man towards his dog would not differ from those which he entertains towards his watch, and they would both inspire him with the same kind of affection. But such is not the case. Even the strictest Cartesian would never think of petting his chronometer as he pets his poodle, or would expect the former to respond to his caresses as the latter does. Practically he subverts his own metaphysical system by the distinction which he makes between them, treating one as a machine and the other as a sentient being, endowed with mental powers and passions corresponding, in some degree, to those which he himself possesses. We infer from our own individual consciousness that other persons, who act as we do, are free and intelligent agents, as we claim to be. The same reasoning applies to the lower animals, whose manifestations of joy, sorrow, hope, fear, desire, love, hatred and other emotions, akin to those passing in our own minds, prove that there is within them a spiritual principle, which does not differ essentially from the human soul. But this conclusion, he adds, is contrary to the teachings of the Christian religion, since it involves the immortality of animal souls and necessitates some provision for their reward or punishment in a future life. If they are capable of merits and demerits and can incur praise and blame, then they are worthy of retribution hereafter and there must be a heaven and a hell prepared for them, so that the pre-eminence of a man over a beast as an object of God’s mercy or wrath is lost. “Beasts, in that case, would be a species of man or men a species of beast, both of which propositions are incompatible with the teachings of religion.” The only means of reconciling these views, endowing animals with intellectual sense and immortal souls without running counter to Christian dogmas, is to assume that they are incarnations of evil spirits.Origen held that the scheme of redemption embraced also Satan and his satellites, who would be ultimately converted and restored to their primitive estate. Several patristic theologians endorsed this notion, but the Church rejected it as heretical. The devils are, therefore, from the standpoint of Catholic orthodoxy, irrevocably damned and the blood of Christ has made no atonement for them. But, although their fate is sealed their torments have not yet begun. If a man dies in his sins, his soul, as soon as it departs from his body, receives its sentence and goes straight to hell. The highest ecclesiastical authorities have decided that this is not true of devils, who, although condemned to everlasting fire, do not enter upon their punishment until after the judgment-day. This view is supported by many passages and incidents of Holy Writ. Thus Christ declares that, when the Son of man shall come in his glory, he shall say unto them on his left hand, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” Here it is not stated that the devils are already burning, but that the fire has been “prepared” for them, a form of expression which leads us to infer that they were not yet in it. Again the devils, which Christ drove out of the two “exceeding fierce” demoniacs, protested against such interference, saying, “Art thou come hither to torment us before the time?” This question has no significance, unless we suppose that they had a right to inhabit such living beings as had been assigned to them, until the time of their torment should come on the last day. PÈre Bougeant is furthermore of the opinion that, when these devils were sent miraculously and therefore abnormally into the swine, they came into conflict with the devils already in possession of the pigs, and thus caused the whole herd to run violently down a steep place into the sea. Even a hog, he thinks, could not stand it to harbour more than one devil at a time, and would be driven to suicide by having an intrinsic and superfluous demon conjured into it. A still more explicit and decisive declaration on this point is found in the Epistle of Jude and the Second Epistle of Peter, where it is stated that the angels which kept not their first estate the Lord hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. These words are to be understood figuratively as referring to the irrevocableness of their doom and the durance vile to which they are meanwhile subjected. That they are held in some sort of temporary custody and are not actually undergoing, but still awaiting the punishment, which divine justice has imposed upon them, the sacred scriptures and the teachings of the Church leave no manner of doubt. Now the question arises as to what these legions of devils are doing in the meantime. Some of them are engaged in “going to and fro in the earth and walking up and down in it,” in order to spy out and take advantage of human infirmities. God himself makes use of them to test the fealty of men and their power of holding fast to their integrity under severe temptations, just as the Creator made fossils and concealed them in the different strata of the earth, in order to see whether Christian faith in the truth of revelation would be strong enough to resist the seductions of “science falsely so called.” Other devils enter into living human bodies and give themselves up to evil enchantments as wizards and witches; others still reanimate corpses or assume the form and features of the dead and wander about as ghosts and hobgoblins. Not only were pagans regarded by the Christian Church as devil-worshippers and exorcised before being baptized, but it is also a logical deduction from the doctrine of original sin, that a devil takes possession of every child as soon as it is born and remains there until expelled by an ecclesiastical functionary, who combines the office of priest with that of conjurer and is especially appointed for this purpose. Hence arose the necessity of abrenunciation, as it was called, which preceded baptism in the Catholic Church and which Luther and the Anglican reformers retained. Before the candidate was christened he was exorcised and adjured personally, if an adult, or through a sponsor, if an infant, to “forsake the devil and all his works.” These words, which still hold a place in the ritual, but are now repeated in a perfunctory manner by persons, who have no conception of the magic potency formerly ascribed to them, are a survival of the old formula of exorcism. In the seventeenth century there was a keen competition between the Roman Catholic and the Lutheran clergy in casting out devils, the former claiming that to them alone had been transmitted the exorcising power conferred by Christ upon his apostles. The Protestant churches finally gave up the hocus-pocus and during the eighteenth century it fell into general discredit and disuse among them, although some of the stiffest and most conservative Lutherans never really abandoned it in principle and have recently endeavoured to revive it in practice. The Catholic Church, on the contrary, still holds that men, women and cattle may be possessed by devils and prescribes the means of their expulsion. In a work entitled Rituale ecclesiasticum ad usum clericorum S. Fransisci by Pater Franz Xaver Lohbauer (Munich, 1851), there is a chapter on the mode of helping those who are afflicted by demons (Modus juvandi afflictos a daemone). The author maintains that nearly all so-called nervous diseases, hysteria, epilepsy, insanity, and milder forms of mental alienation, are either the direct result of diabolical agencies or attended and greatly aggravated by them. A sound mind in a sound body may make a man devil-proof, but Satan is quick to take advantage of his infirmities in order to get possession of his person. The adversary is constantly lying in wait watching for and trying to produce physical derangements as breaches in the wall, through which he may rush in and capture the citadel of the soul. In all cases of this sort the priest is to be called in with the physician, and the medicines are to be blessed and sprinkled with holy water before being administered. Exorcisms and conjurations are not only to be spoken over the patient, but also to be written on slips of consecrated paper and applied, like a plaster, to the parts especially affected. The physician should keep himself supplied with these written exorcisms, to be used when it is impossible for a priest to be present. As with patent medicines, the public is warned against counterfeits, and no exorcism is genuine unless it is stamped with the seal and bears the signature of the bishop of the diocese. According to Father Lohbauer, the demon is the efficient cause of the malady, and there can be no cure until the evil one is cast out. This is the office of the priest; the physician then heals the physical disorder, repairing the damage done to the body, and, as it were, stopping the gaps with his drugs so as to prevent the demon from getting in again. Thus science and religion are reconciled and work together harmoniously for the healing of mankind. The Catholic Church has a general form of Benedictio a daemone vexatorum, for the relief of those vexed by demons; and Pope Leo XIII., who was justly esteemed as a man of more than ordinary intelligence and more thoroughly imbued with the modern spirit than any of his predecessors, composed and issued, November 19, 1890, a formula of Exorcismus in Satanam et Angelos Apostatas worthy of a place in any mediÆval collection of conjurations. His Holiness never failed to repeat this exorcism in his daily prayers, and commended it to the bishops and other clergy as a potent means of warding off the assaults of Satan and of casting out devils. In 1849 the Bishop of Passau published a Manuale Benedictionum, and as late as 1893 Dr. Theobald Bischofberger described and defended the practice of the papal see, in this respect, in a brochure printed in Stuttgart and entitled Die Verwaltung des Exorcistats nach Massgabe der rÖmischen Benediktionale. That these formulas are still deemed highly efficacious is evident from the many recent cases in which they have been employed. Thus in 1842 a devil named Ro-ro-ro-ro took possession of “a maiden of angelic beauty” in Luxemburg and was cast out by Bishop Laurentius. This demon claimed to be one of the archangels expelled from heaven, and appears to have rivalled Parson StÖcker and Rector Ahlwardt in Anti-semitic animosity; when the name of Jesus was mentioned, he cried out derisively: “O, that Jew! Didn’t he have to drink gall?” When commanded to depart, he begged that he might go into some Jew. The bishop, however, refused to give him leave and bade him “go to hell,” which he forthwith did, “moaning as he went, in melancholy tones, that seemed to issue from the bowels of the earth, ‘Burning, burning, everlastingly burning in hell!’ The voice was so sad,” adds the bishop, “that we should have wept for sheer compassion, had we not known that it was the devil.” Again, a lay brother connected with an educational institute in Rome became diabolically possessed on January 3, 1887, and was exorcised by Father Jordan. In this instance the leading spirit was Lucifer himself, attended by a host of satellites, of whom Lignifex, Latibor, Monitor, Ritu, Sefilie, Shulium, Haijunikel, Exaltor, and Reromfex were the most important. It took about an hour and a half to cast out these demons the first time, but they renewed their assaults on February 10th, 11th, and 17th, and were not completely discomfited and driven back into the infernal regions until February 23rd, and then only by using the water of Lourdes, which, as Father Jordan states, acted upon them like poison, causing them to writhe to and fro. Lucifer was especially rude and saucy in his remarks. Thus, for example, when Father Jordan said, “Every knee in heaven and on the earth shall bow to the name of Jesus,” the fallen “Son of the Morning” retorted, “Not Luci, not Luci—never!” It would be easy to multiply authentic reports of things of this sort that have happened within the memory of the present generation, such as the exorcism of a woman of twenty-seven at Laas in the Tyrol in the spring of 1892, and the expulsion of an evil spirit from a boy ten years of age at Wemding in Bavaria by a capuchin, Father Aurelian, July 13th and 14th, 1891, with the sanction of the bishops of Augsburg and EichstÄtt. In the latter case we have a circumstantial account of the affair by the exorcist himself, who, in conclusion, uses the following strong language: “Whosoever denies demoniacal possession in our days confesses thereby that he has gone astray from the teaching of the Catholic Church; but he will believe in it when he himself is in the possession of the devil in hell. As for myself I have the authority of two bishops.” In a pamphlet on this subject printed at Munich in 1892, and entitled Die Teufelsaustreibung in Wemding, the author, Richard Treufels, takes the same view, declaring that diabolical possession “is an incontestable fact, confirmed by the traditions of all nations of ancient and modern times, by the unequivocal testimony of the Old and New Testaments, and by the teaching and practice of the Catholic Church.” Christ, he says, gave his disciples power and authority over all devils to cast them out, and the same power is divinely conferred upon every priest by his consecration, although it is never to be exercised without the permission of his bishop. Doubtless modern science by investigating the laws and forces of nature is gradually diminishing the realm of superstition; but there are vast low-lying plains of humanity that have not yet felt its enlightening and elevating influence. It has been estimated that nine-tenths of the rural population of Europe and ninety-nine hundredths of the peasantry, living in the vicinity of a cloister and darkened by its shadow, believe in the reality of diabolical possession and attribute most maladies of men and murrain in cattle to the direct agency of Satan, putting their faith in the “metaphysical aid” of the conjurer rather than in medical advice and veterinary skill. Unfortunately this belief is not confined to Catholics and boors, but is held by Protestants, who are considered persons of education and superior culture. Dr. Lyman Abbott asserted in a sermon preached in Plymouth Church, that “what we call the impulses of our lower nature are the whispered suggestions of fiend-like natures, watching for our fall and exultant if they can accomplish it.” But while affirming that “evil spirits exercise an influence over mankind,” and that cranks like Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, are diabolically possessed, the reverend divine would hardly risk his reputation for sanity by attempting to exorcise the supposed demon. The Catholic priest holds the same view, but has the courage of his convictions and goes solemnly to work with bell, book and candle to effect the expulsion of the indwelling fiend. The fact that such methods of healing are sometimes successful is adduced as conclusive proof of their miraculous character; but this inference is wholly incorrect. Professor Dr. Hoppe, in an essay on Der Teufels- und Geisterglaube und die psychologische ErklÄrung des Besessenseins (Allgemeine Zeitschrift fÜr Psychiatrie, Bd. LV. p. 290), gives a psychological explanation of these puzzling phenomena. “The priest,” he says, “exerts a salutary influence upon the brain through the respect and dignity which he inspires, just as Christ in his day wrought upon those who were sick and possessed with devils.” Indeed, it is expressly stated by the evangelist that Jesus did not attempt to do wonderful works among people who did not believe. According to this theory the exorcism effects a cure by its powerful action on the imagination, just as there are frequent ailments, for which a wise physician administers bread pills and a weak solution of powdered sugar as the safest and best medicaments. Professor Hoppe, therefore, approves of “priestly conjurations for the expulsion of devils as a psychical means of healing,” and thinks that the more ceremoniously the rite can be performed in the presence of grave and venerable witnesses, the more effective it will be. This opinion is endorsed by a Catholic priest, Friedrich Jaskowski, in a pamphlet entitled Der Trierer Rock und seine Patienten vom Jahre 1891 (SaarbrÜcken: Carl Schmidtke, 1894). The author belongs to the diocese of Trier and is therefore under the jurisdiction of the bishop, Dr. Felix Korum, whose statements concerning the miracles wrought and the evidences of divine mercy manifested during the exhibition of the “holy coat” in 1891 he courageously reviews and conclusively refutes. The bishop had printed what he called “documentary proofs,” consisting of certificates issued by obscure curates and country doctors, that certain persons suffering chiefly from diseases of the nervous system had been healed, and sought to discover in these cures the working of divine agencies. Jaskowski shows that in several instances the persons said to have found relief died shortly afterwards, and maintains that where cures actually occurred they “were not due to a miracle or any direct interference of God with the established order of things, but happened in a purely natural manner.” He quotes the late Professor Charcot, Dr. Forel, and other neuropathologists to establish the fact that hetero-suggestion emanating from a physician or priest, or auto-suggestion originating in the person’s own mind, may often be the most effective remedy for neurotic disorders of every kind. In auto-suggestion the patient is possessed with the fixed idea that the doing of a certain thing, which may be in itself absolutely indifferent, will afford relief. As an example of this faith-cure Jaskowski refers to the woman who was diseased with an issue of blood, and approaching Jesus said within herself: “If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.” This is precisely the position taken by Jesus himself, who turned to the woman and said: “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole.” Jaskowski also quotes the declaration of the evangelist referred to above, that in a certain place the people’s lack of faith prevented Jesus from doing many wondrous works, and does not deny that on this principle, which is now recognized by the most eminent physicians, some few of the hundreds of pilgrims may have been restored to health by touching the holy coat of Trier; and there is no doubt that the popular belief in Bishop Korum’s assertion that it is the same garment which Jesus wore and the woman touched, would greatly increase its healing efficacy through the force of auto-suggestion (see my article on “Recent Recrudescence of Superstition” in Appleton’s Popular Science Monthly for Oct. 1895, pp. 762-66). The Bishop of Bamberg in Bavaria has been stigmatized as a hypocrite because he sends the infirm of his flock on a pilgrimage to Lourdes or Laas or some other holy shrine, while he prefers for himself the profane waters of Karlsbad or Kissingen. But in so doing he is not guilty of any inconsistency, since a journey to sacred places and contact with sacred relics would not act upon him with the same force as upon the ignorant and superstitious masses of his diocese. His conduct only evinces his disbelief in the supernatural character of the remedies he prescribes. The distinguished French physician, Professor Charcot, as already mentioned, recognized the curative power of faith under certain circumstances, and occasionally found it eminently successful in hysterical and other purely nervous affections. In some cases he did not hesitate to prescribe a pilgrimage to the shrine of any saint for whom the patient may have had a peculiar reverence; but in no instance in his experience did faith or exorcism or hagiolatry heal an organic disease, set a dislocated joint or restore an amputated limb. What Falstaff says of honour is equally true of faith, it “hath no skill in surgery.” But to return from this digression, PÈre Bougeant’s theory of the diabolical possession of pagans and unbaptized persons would provide for comparatively few devils, and the gradual diffusion of Christianity would constantly diminish the supply of human beings available as their proper habitations. The ultimate conversion of the whole world and the custom of baptizing infants as soon as they are born would, therefore, produce serious domiciliary destitution and distress among the evil spirits and set immense numbers of them hopelessly adrift as vagabonds, and thus create an extremely undesirable diabolical proletariat. This difficulty is avoided by assuming that the vast majority of devils are incarnate in the billions of beasts of all kinds, which dwell upon the earth or fly in the air or fill the waters of the rivers and the seas. This hypothesis, he adds, “enables me to ascribe to the lower animals thought, knowledge, feeling, and a spiritual principle or soul without running counter to the truths of religion. Indeed, so far from being astonished at their manifestations of intelligence, foresight, memory and reason, I am rather surprised that they do not display these qualities in a higher degree, since their soul is probably far more perfect than ours. Their defects are, as I have discovered, owing to the fact that in brute as in us, the mind works through material organs, and inasmuch as these organs are grosser and less perfect in the lower animals than in man, it follows that their exhibitions of intelligence, their thoughts and all their mental operations must be less perfect; and, if these proud spirits are conscious of their condition, how humiliating it must be for them to see themselves thus embruted! Whether they are conscious of it or not, this deep degradation is the first act of God’s vengeance executed on his foes. It is a foretaste of hell.” Only by such an assumption, as our author proceeds to show, is it possible to justify the ways of man to the lower animals and to reconcile his cruel treatment of them with the goodness of an all-wise and all-powerful maker and ruler of the universe. For this reason, he goes on to explain, the Christian Church has never deemed it a duty to take the lower animals under its protection or to inculcate ordinary natural kindness towards them. Hence in countries, like Italy and Spain, where the influence of Catholicism has been supreme for centuries, not only are wild birds and beasts of chase relentlessly slaughtered and exterminated, but even useful domestic animals, asses, sumpter-mules and pack-horses, are subjected to a supererogation of suffering at the hands of ruthless man. As the pious Parsi conscientiously comes up to the help of Ahuramazda against the malevolent AngrÔ-mainyush by killing as many as possible of the creatures which the latter has made, so the good Catholic becomes an efficient co-worker with God by maltreating brutes and thus aiding the Almighty in punishing the devils, of which they are the visible and bruisable forms. Whatever pain is inflicted is felt, not by the physical organism, but by the animated spirit. It is the embodied demon that really suffers, howling in the beaten dog and squealing in the butchered pig.There are doubtless many persons of tender susceptibilities, who cannot bear to think that the animals, whose daily companionship we enjoy, the parrot we feed with sugar, the pretty pug we caress and the noble horse, which ministers to our comfort and convenience, are nothing but devils predestined to everlasting torture. But these purely sentimental considerations are of no weight in the scale of reason. “What matters it,” replies the Jesuit Father, “whether it is a devil or another kind of creature that is in our service or contributes to our amusement? For my part, this idea pleases rather than repels me; and I recognize with gratitude the beneficence of the Creator in having provided me with so many little devils for my use and entertainment. If it be said that these poor creatures, which we have learned to love and so fondly cherish, are fore-ordained to eternal torments, I can only adore the decrees of God, but do not hold myself responsible for the terrible sentence; I leave the execution of the dread decision to the sovereign judge and continue to live with my little devils, as I live pleasantly with a multitude of persons, of whom, according to the teachings of our holy religion, the great majority will be damned.” The crafty disciple of Loyola, elusive of disagreeable deductions, is content to accept the poodle in its phenomenal form and to make the most of it, without troubling himself about “des Pudels Kern.”This doctrine, he thinks, is amply illustrated and confirmed by an appeal to the consentient opinion of mankind or the argument from universal belief, which has been so often and so effectively urged in proof of the existence of God. If the maxim universitas non delinquit has the same validity in the province of philosophy as in that of law, then we are justified in assuming that the whole human race cannot go wrong even in purely metaphysical speculation and that unanimity in error is a psychological impossibility. The criterion of truth, quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus, by which the Roman hierarchy is willing to have its claims to ecclesiastical catholicity and doctrinal orthodoxy tested, is confined to Christendom in its application and does not consider the views of persons outside of the body of believers. In the question under discussion the argument is not subject to such limitations, but gathers testimony from all races and religions, showing that there is not a civilized nation or savage tribe on the face of the earth, which does not regard or has not regarded the lower animals as embodiments of evil spirits and sought to propitiate them. That “the devil is an ass” is a truth so palpable that it has passed into a proverb. Baal-zebub means fly-god; and the Christian Satan betrays his presence by the cloven foot of the goat or the solid hoof of the horse. In folk-lore, which is the dÉbris of exploded mythologies adrift on the stream of popular tradition, cats, dogs, otters, apes, ravens, blackcocks, capercailzies, rabbits, hedgehogs, wolves, were-wolves, foxes, polecats, swine, serpents, toads, and countless varieties of insects, reptiles and vermin figure as incarnations and instruments of the devil; and Mephistopheles reveals himself to Faust as “Der Herr der Ratten und der MÄuse, Der Fliegen, FrÖsche, Wanzen, LÄuse.” “The Lord of rats and of the mice, Of flies and frogs, bed-bugs and lice.” The worship of animals originates in the belief that they are embodiments of devils, so that zoÖlatry, which holds such a prominent place in primitive religions, is only a specific form of demonolatry. The objection that a flea or a fly, a mite or a mosquito is too small a creature to furnish fit lodgment for a demon, Father Bougeant dismisses with an indulgent smile and disparaging shrug as implying a gross misconception of the nature and properties of spirit, which is without extension or dimension and therefore capable of animating the most diminutive particle of organized matter. Large and little are purely relative terms. God, he says, could have made man as small as the tiniest puceron without any decrease of his spiritual powers. “It is, therefore, no more difficult to believe that a devil may be incorporated in the delicate body of a gnat than in the huge bulk of an elephant.” The size of the physical habitation, in which spirits take up their temporary abode, is a thing of no consequence. In fact, devils in the forms of gnats and tiny insects were thought to be especially dangerous, since one might swallow them unawares and thus become diabolically possessed. The demon, liberated by the death and dissolution of the insect, was supposed to make a tenement of the unfortunate person’s stomach, producing gripes and playing ventriloquous tricks. Thus it is recorded in the Dies Caniculuares of Majolus (Meyer: Der Aberglaube des Mittelalters, p. 296-7) that a young maiden in the Erzgebirge near Joachimsthal, in 1559, swallowed a fly, while drinking beer. The evil spirit, incarnate in the fly, took possession of the maiden and began to speak out of her, thus attracting crowds of people, who put questions to the devil and tried to drive him out by prayers, in which the unhappy girl sometimes joined, greatly to her discomfort, since the devil waxed exceeding wroth and unruly and caused her much suffering, whenever she uttered the name of Christ. Finally the parish priest had her brought into the church, where he succeeded with considerable difficulty in exorcising her. The stubborn demon resisted for two years all efforts to cast him out; he even tried to compromise with the girl, promising to be content with a finger nail or a single hair of her head, but she declined all overtures, and he was at last expelled by means of a potent conjuration, which lasted from midnight till midday. As the human soul is released by death, so the extinction of life in any animal sets its devil free, who, instead of entering upon a spiritual state of existence, goes into the egg or embryo of another animal and resumes his penal bondage to the flesh. “Thus a devil, after having been a cat or a goat, may pass, not by choice, but by constraint, into the embryo of a bird, a fish or a butterfly. Happy are those who make a lucky hit and become household pets, instead of beasts of burden or of slaughter. The lottery of destiny bars them the right of voluntary choosing.” The doctrine of transmigration, continues our author, “which Pythagoras taught of yore and some Indian sages hold to-day, is untenable in its application to men and contrary to religion, but it fits admirably into the system already set forth concerning the nature of beasts, and shocks neither our faith nor our reason.” Furthermore, it explains why “all species of animals produce many more eggs or embryos than are necessary to propagate their kind and to provide for a normal increase.” Of the millions of germs, of which “great creating nature” is so prolific, comparatively few ever develop into living creatures; only those which are vivified by a devil are evolved into complete organisms; the others perish. This seeming superfluity and waste can be most easily reconciled with the careful economy and wise frugality of nature by viewing it as a manifestation of the bountiful and beneficent providence of God in preventing “any lack of occupation or abode on the part of the devils,” which are being constantly disembodied and re-embodied. “This accounts for the prodigious clouds of locusts and countless hosts of caterpillars, which suddenly desolate our fields and gardens. The cause of these astonishing multiplications has been sought in cold, heat, rain and wind, but the real reason is that, at the time of their appearance, extraordinary quantities of animals have died or their embryos been destroyed, so that the devils that animated them were compelled to avail themselves at once of whatever species they found most ready to receive them, which would naturally be the superabundant eggs of insects.” The more profoundly this subject is investigated, he concludes, and the more light our observations and researches throw upon it from all sides, the more probable does the hypothesis here suggested in explanation of the puzzling phenomena of animal life and intelligence appear. Father Bougeant calls his lucubration “a new system of philosophy”; but this is not strictly true. He has only given a fuller and more facetious exposition of a doctrine taught by many of the greatest lights of the Catholic Church, among others by Thomas Aquinas, whose authority as a thinker Pope Leo XIII. distinctly recognized and earnestly sought to restore to its former prestige. Bougeant’s ingenious dissertation has a vein of irony or at least a strain of jocundity in it, approaching at times so perilously near the fatal brink of persiflage, that one cannot help surmising an intention to render the whole thing ridiculous in a witty and underhand way eminently compatible with Jesuitical habits of mind; but whether serious or satirical, his treatise is an excellent example and illustration of the kind of dialectic hair-splitting and syllogistic rubbish, which passed for reasoning in the early and middle ages of the Christian era, and which the greatest scholars and acutest intellects of those days fondly indulged in and seem to have been fully satisfied with. Here, too, we come upon the metaphysical and theological groundwork, upon which was reared by a strictly logical process a vast superstructure of ecclesiastical excommunication and criminal prosecution against bugs and beasts. He protests with never-tiring and needless iteration his absolute devotion to the precepts of religion; indeed, like the lady in the play, he “protests too much, methinks.” In all humbleness and submission he bows to the authority of the Church, and would not touch the ark of the covenant even with the tip of his finger, but his easy acquiescence has an air of perfunctoriness, and in his assenting lips there lurks a secret, semi-sarcastic leer, which casts suspicion on his words and looks like poking fun at the principles he professes and turning them into raillery. Indeed, such covert derision would have been a suitable way of ridiculing the gross popular superstition of his time, which saw a diabolical incarnation in every unfamiliar form of animal life. During the latter half of the sixteenth century a Swiss naturalist named Thurneysser, who held the position of physician in ordinary to the Elector Johann Georg von Brandenburg, kept some scorpions bottled in olive oil, which were feared by the common people as terrible devils endowed with magic power (fÜrchterliche Zauberteufel). Thurneysser presented also to Basel, his native city, a large elk, which had been given to him by Prince Radziwil; but the good Baselers looked upon the strange animal as a most dangerous demon, and a pious old woman finally rid the town of the dreaded beast by feeding it with an apple stuck full of broken needles. A distinguished Spanish theologian of the sixteenth century, Martin Azpilcueta, commonly known as Dr. Navarre, refers, in his work on excommunication, to a case in which anathemas were fulminated against certain large sea-creatures called terones, which infested the waters of Sorrento and destroyed the nets of the fishermen. He speaks of them as “fish or cacodemons” (pisces seu cacodemones), and maintains that they are subject to anathematization, not as fish, but only as devils. In his Five Counsels and other tractates on this subject (Opera, Lyons, 1589; reprinted at Venice, 1601-2, and at Cologne, 1616) he often takes issue with ChassenÉe on minor points, but the French jurist and the Spanish divine agree on the main question. In this connection it may be a matter of interest to add, that a German neuropathologist of our own day, Herr von Bodelschwingh, ascribes epilepsy to what he calls “demonic infection” due to the presence of the bacillus infernalis in the blood of those who are subject to this disease. The microbe, to which the jocose scientist has been pleased to give this name, differs from all other bacilli hitherto discovered in having two horns and a tail, although the most powerful lenses have not yet revealed any traces of a cloven foot. An additional indication of its infernal qualities is the fact that it liquefies the gelatine, with which it comes in contact, and turns it black, emitting at the same time a pestilential stench. Doubtless this discovery will be hailed by theologians as a striking confirmation of divine revelation by modern science, proving that our forefathers were right in attributing the falling-sickness to diabolical agencies. We know now that it was a legion of bacilli infernales which went out of the tomb-haunting man into the Gadarene swine and drove them tumultuously over a precipice into the sea. In fact, who can tell what microbes really are! PÈre Bougeant would certainly have regarded them as nothing less than microscopic devils. The Savoyan jurist, Gaspard Bailly, in the second part of the disquisition entitled TraitÉ des Monitoires, already mentioned, treats “Of the Excellence of Monitories” and discusses the main points touching the criminal prosecution and punishment of insects. He begins by saying that “one should not contemn monitories (a general term for anathemas, bans and excommunications), seeing that they are matters of great importance, inasmuch as they bear with them the deadliest sword, wielded by our holy mother, the Church, to wit, the power of excommunication, which cutteth the dry wood and the green, sparing neither the quick nor the dead, and smiting not only rational beings, but turning its edge also against irrational creatures; since it hath been shown at sundry times and in divers places, that worms and insects, which were devouring the fruits of the earth, have been excommunicated and, in obedience to the commands of the Church, have withdrawn from the cultivated fields to the places prescribed by the bishop who had been appointed to adjudge and to adjure them.” M. Bailly then cites numerous instances of this kind, in which a writer on logic would find ample illustrations of the fallacy known as post hoc, ergo propter hoc. Thus in the latter half of the fifteenth century, during the reign of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, a plague of locusts threatened the province of Mantua in Northern Italy with famine, but were dispersed by excommunication. He quotes some florid lines from the poet Altiat descriptive of these devastating swarms, which “came, after so many other woes, under the leadership of Eurus (i.e. brought by the east wind), more destructive than the hordes of Attila or the camps of Corsicans, devouring the hay, the millet and the corn, and leaving only vain wishes, where the hopes of August stood.” Again in 1541, a cloud of locusts fell upon Lombardy, and by destroying the crops, caused many persons to perish with hunger. These insects “were as long as a man’s finger, with large heads and bellies filled with vileness; and when dead they infected the air and gave forth a stench, which even carrion kites and carnivorous beasts could not endure.” Another instance is given, in which swarms of four-winged insects came from Tartary, identified in the popular mind with Tartarus, obscuring the sun in their flight and covering the plains of Poland a cubit deep. In the year 1338, on St. Bartholomew’s Day, these creatures began to devastate the region round Botzen in the Tyrol, consuming the crops and laying eggs and leaving a numerous progeny, which seemed destined to continue the work of destruction indefinitely. A prosecution was therefore instituted against them before the ecclesiastical court at Kaltern, a large market-town about ten miles south of Botzen, then as now famous for its wines, and the parish priest instructed to proceed against them with the sentence of excommunication in accordance with the verdict of the tribunal. This he did by the solemn ceremony of “inch of candle,” and anathematized them “in the name of the Blessed Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Ghost.” Owing to the sins of the people and their remissness in the matter of tithes the devouring insects resisted for a time the power of the Church, but finally disappeared. Under the reign of Lotharius II., early in the twelfth century, enormous quantities of locusts, “having six wings with two teeth harder than flint” and “darkening the sky and whitening the air like a snowstorm,” laid waste the most fertile provinces of France. Many of them perished in the rivers and the sea, and being washed ashore sent forth a putrescent smell and produced a fearful pestilence. Precisely the same phenomenon, with like disastrous results, is described by St. Augustine in the last book of De Civitate Dei as having occurred in Africa and caused the death of 800,000 persons. In the majority of cases adduced there is no evidence that the Church intervened at all with its fulminations, and, even when the anathema was pronounced, the insects appear to have departed of their own free-will after having eaten up every green thing and reduced the inhabitants to the verge of starvation; and yet M. Bailly, supposed to be a man of judicial mind, disciplined by study, accustomed to reason and to know what sound reasoning is, goes on giving accounts of such scourges, as though they proved in some mysterious way the effectiveness of ecclesiastical excommunications and formed a cumulative argument in support of such claims. The most important portion of M. Bailly’s work is that in which he shows how actions of this kind should be brought and conducted, with specimens of plaints, pleas, replications, rejoinders, and decisions. First in order comes the petition of the inhabitants seeking redress (requeste des habitans), which is followed in regular succession by the declaration or plea of the inhabitants (plaidoyer des habitans), the defensive allegation or plea for the insects (plaidoyer pour les insectes), the replication of the inhabitants (rÉplique des habitans), the rejoinder of the defendant (rÉplique du defendeur), the conclusions of the bishop’s proctor (conclusions du procureur episcopal), and the sentence of the ecclesiastical judge (sentence du juge d’Église), which is solemnly pronounced in Latin. The pleadings on both sides are delivered in French and richly interlarded with classical allusions and Latin quotations, being even more heavily weighted with the spoils of erudition than the set speech of a member of the British Parliament.The following abridgment of the plea, in which the prosecuting attorney sets forth the cause of complaint, is a fair specimen of the forensic eloquence displayed on such occasions: “Gentlemen, these poor people on their knees and with tearful eyes, appeal to your sense of justice, as the inhabitants of the islands Majorica and Minorica formerly sent an embassy to Augustus CÆsar, praying him for a cohort of soldiers to exterminate the rabbits, which were burrowing in their fields and consuming their crops. In the power of excommunication you have a weapon more effective than any wielded by that emperor to save these poor suppliants from impending famine produced by the ravages of little beasts, which spare neither the corn nor the vines, ravages like those of the boar that laid waste the environs of Calydon, as related by Homer in the first book of the Iliad, or those of the foxes sent by Themis to Thebes, which destroyed the fruits of the earth and the cattle and assailed even the husbandmen themselves. You know how great are the evils which famine brings with it, and you have too much kindness and compassion to permit my clients to be involved in such distress, thus constraining them to perpetrate cruel and unlawful deeds; nec enim rationem patitur, nec ulla aequitate mitigatur, nec prece ulla flectitur esuriens populus: for a starving people is not amenable to reason, nor tempered by equity, nor moved by any prayer. Witness the mothers, of whom it is recorded in the Fourth Book of the Kings, that they ate their own children, the one saying to the other: ‘Give thy son that we may eat him to-day, and we will eat my son tomorrow.’” The advocate then discourses at length of the horrors of hunger and its disastrous effects upon the individual and the community, lugging in what Milton calls a “horse-load of citations” from Arianus Marcellinus, Ovid and other Latin prosaists and poets, introduces an utterly irrelevant allusion to Joshua and the crafty Gibeonites, and concludes as follows: “The full reports received as the result of an examination of the fields, made at your command, suffice for your information concerning the damage done by these animals. It remains, therefore, after complying with the usual forms, only to adjudicate upon the case in accordance with the facts stated in the Petition of the Plaintiffs, which is right and reasonable, and, to this effect, to enjoin these animals from continuing their devastations, ordering them to quit the aforesaid fields and to withdraw to the place assigned them, pronouncing the necessary anathemas and execrations prescribed by our Holy Mother, the Church, for which your petitioners do ever pray.” It is doubtful whether any speaking for Buncombe in the halls of Congress or any spouting of an ignorant bumpkin in the moot-court of an American law-school ever produced such a rhetorical hotchpotch of “matter and impertinency mixed” as the earnest plea, of which the above is a brief abstract. Rather more to the point, but equally overburdened with legal lore and literary pedantry, is the rejoinder of the counsel for the insects: “Gentlemen, inasmuch as you have chosen me to defend these little beasts (bestioles), I shall, an it please you, endeavour to right them and to show that the manner of proceeding against them is invalid and void. I confess that I am greatly astonished at the treatment they have been subjected to and at the charges brought against them, as though they had committed some crime. Thus information has been procured touching the damage said to have been done by them; they have been summoned to appear before this court to answer for their conduct, and, since they are notoriously dumb, the judge, wishing that they should not suffer wrong on account of this defect, has appointed an advocate to speak in their behalf and to set forth in conformity with right and justice the reasons, which they themselves are unable to allege. “Since you have permitted me to appear in defence of these poor animals, I will state, in the first place, that the summons served on them is null and void, having been issued against beasts, which cannot and ought not to be cited before this judgment seat, inasmuch as such a procedure implies that the parties summoned are endowed with reason and volition and are therefore capable of committing crime. That this is not the case with these creatures is clear from the paragraph Si quadrupes, etc., in the first book of the Pandects, where we find these words: Nec enim potest animal injuriam fecisse, quod sensu caret. “The second ground, on which I base the defence of my clients, is that no one can be judicially summoned without cause, and whoever has had such a summons served renders himself liable to the penalty prescribed by the statute De poen. tem. litig. As regards these animals there is no causa justa litigandi; they are not bound in any manner, non tenentur ex contractu, being incompetent to make contracts or to enter into any compact or covenant whatsoever, neque ex quasi contractu, neque ex stipulatione, neque ex pacto, and still less ex delicto seu quasi, can there be any question of a delict or any semblance thereof, since, as has just been shown, the rational faculties essential to the capability of committing criminal actions are wanting. “Furthermore, it is illicit to do that which is nugatory and of non-effect (qui ne porte coup); in this respect justice is like nature, which, as the philosopher affirms, does nothing mal À propos or in vain: Deus enim et Natura nihil operantur frustra. Now I leave it to you to decide whether anything could be more futile than to summon these irrational creatures, which can neither speak for themselves, nor appoint proxies to defend their cause; still less are they able to present memorials stating grounds of their justification. If then, as I have shown, the summons, which is the basis of all judicial action, is null and void, the proceedings dependent upon it will not be able to stand: cum enim principalis causa non consistat, neque ea quae consequuntur locum habent.” The counsel for the defence rests his argument, of which the extract just given may suffice as a sample, upon the irrationality and consequent irresponsibility of his clients. For this reason he maintains that the judge cannot appoint a procurator to represent them, and cites legal authorities to show that the incompetency of the principal implies the incompetency of the proxy, in conformity with the maxim: quod directe fieri prohibetur, per indirectum concedi non debet. In like manner the invalidity of the summons bars any charge of contempt of court and condemnation for contumacy. Furthermore, the very nature of excommunication is such that it cannot be pronounced against them, since it is defined as extra ecclesiam positio, vel È qualibet communione, vel quolibet legitimo actu separatio. But these animals cannot be expelled from the Church, because they are not members of it and do not fall under its jurisdiction, as the apostle Paul says: “Ye judge them that are within and not them also that are without.” Excommunicatio afficit animam, non corpus, nisi per quandam consequentiam, cujus medicina est. The animal soul, not being immortal, cannot be affected by such sentence, which involves the loss of eternal salvation (quae vergit in dispendium aeternae salutis). A still more important consideration is that these insects are only exercising an innate right conferred upon them at their creation, when God expressly gave them “every green herb for meat,” a right which cannot be curtailed or abrogated, simply because it may be offensive to man. In support of this view he quotes passages from Cicero’s treatise De Officiis, the Epistle of Jude and the works of Thomas Aquinas. Finally, he maintains that his clients are agents of the Almighty sent to punish us for our sins, and to hurl anathemas against them would be to fight against God (s’en prendre À Dieu), who has said: “I will send wild beasts among you, which shall destroy you and your cattle and make you few in number.” That all flesh has corrupted its way upon the earth, he thinks is as true now as before the deluge, and cites about a dozen lines from the Metamorphoses of Ovid in confirmation of this fact. In conclusion he demands the acquittal of the defendants and their exemption from all further prosecution.The prosecuting attorney in his replication answers these objections in regular order, showing, in the first place, that, while the law may not punish an irrational creature for a crime already committed, it may intervene, as in the case of an insane person, to prevent the commission of a crime by putting the madman in a strait-jacket or throwing him into prison. He elucidates this principle by a rather far-fetched illustration from the legal enactments concerning betrothal and breach of promise of marriage. “It follows then inferentially that the aforesaid animals can be properly summoned to appear and that the summons is valid, inasmuch as this is done in order to prevent them from causing damage henceforth (d’ores en avant) and only incidentally to punish them for injuries already inflicted.” “To affirm that such animals cannot be anathematized and excommunicated is to doubt the authority conferred by God upon his dear spouse, the Church, whom he has made the sovereign of the whole world, having, in the words of the Psalmist, put all things under her feet, all sheep and oxen, the beasts of the field, the fowl of the air, the fish of the sea and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas. Guided by the Holy Spirit she does nothing unwisely; and if there is anything in which she should show forth her power it is in protecting and preserving the most perfect work of her heavenly husband, to wit, man, who was made in the divine image and likeness.” The orator then dilates on the grandeur and glory of man and interlards his harangue with quotations from sacred and profane writers, Moses, Paul, Pliny, Ovid, Silius Italicus and Pico di Mirandola, and declares that nothing could be more absurd than to deprive such a being of the fruits of the earth for the sake of “vile and paltry vermin.” In reply to the statement of Thomas Aquinas, quoted by the counsel for the defence, that it is futile to curse animals as such, the plaintiffs’ advocate says that they are not viewed merely as animals, but as creatures doing harm to man by eating and wasting the products of the soil designed for human sustenance; in other words he ascribes to them a certain diabolical character. “But why dwell upon this point, since besides the instances recorded in Holy Writ, in which God curses inanimate things and irrational creatures, we have an infinite number of examples of holy men, who have excommunicated noxious animals. It will suffice to mention one familiar to us all and constantly before our eyes in the town of Aix, where St. Hugon, Bishop of Grenoble, excommunicated the serpents, which infested the warm baths and killed many of the inhabitants by biting them. Now it is well known, that if the serpents in that place or in the immediate vicinity bite any one, the bite is no longer fatal. The venom of the reptile was stayed and annulled by virtue of the excommunication, so that no hurt ensues from the bite, although the bite of the same kind of serpent outside of the region affected by the ban, is followed by death.” That serpents and other poisonous reptiles could be deprived of their venom by enchantment and thus rendered harmless is in accord with the teachings of the Bible. Thus we read in Ecclesiastes (x. 11): “Surely the serpent will bite without enchantment,” i.e. unless it be enchanted and its bite disenvenomed. A curious superstition concerning the adder is referred to in the Psalms (lviii. 4, 5), where the wicked are said to be “like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely.” The Lord is also represented by Jeremiah (viii. 17) as threatening to “send serpents, cockatrices, among you, which will not be charmed, and they shall bite you.” It does not seem to have occurred to the prosecutor that the defendants might be locusts, which would not be excommunicated. The objection that God has sent these insects as a scourge, and that to anathematize them would be to fight against him, is met by saying that to have recourse to the offices of the Church is an act of religion, which does not resist, but humbly recognizes the divine will and makes use of the means appointed for averting the divine wrath and securing the divine favour.After the advocates had finished their pleadings, the case was summed up by the episcopal procurator substantially as follows: “The arguments offered by the counsel for the defence against the proceedings instituted by the inhabitants as complainants are worthy of careful consideration and deserve to be examined soberly and maturely, because the bolt of excommunication should not be hurled recklessly and at random (À la volÉe), being a weapon of such peculiar energy and activity that, if it fails to strike the object against which it is hurled, it returns to smite him, who hurled it.” [This notion that an anathema is a dangerous missile to him who hurls it unlawfully or for an unjust purpose, retroacting like an Australian boomerang, survives in the homely proverb: “Curses, like chickens, come home to roost.”] The bishop’s proctor reviews the speeches of the lawyers, but seems to have his brains somewhat muddled by them. “It is truly a deep sea,” he says, “in which it is impossible to touch bottom. We cannot tell why God has sent these animals to devour the fruits of the earth; this is for us a sealed book (lettres closes).” He suggests it may be “because the people turn a deaf ear to the poor begging at their doors,” and goes off into a long eulogy on the beauty of charity, with an anthology of extracts from various writers in praise of alms-giving, among which is one from Eusebius descriptive of hell as a cold region, where the wailing and gnashing of teeth are attributed to the torments of eternal frost instead of everlasting fire (liberaberis ab illo frigore, in quo erit fletus et stridor dentium). Again, the plague of insects may be due to irreverence shown in the churches, which, he declares, have been changed from the house of God into houses of assignation. On this point he quotes from Tertullian, Augustine, and Numa Pompilius, and concludes by recommending that sentence of excommunication be pronounced upon the insects, and that the prayers and penances, customary in such cases, be imposed upon the inhabitants. After this discourse, which reads more like a homily from the pulpit than a plea at the bar and in the mouth of the bishop’s proctor is simply an oratio pro domo, the official gave judgment in favour of the plaintiffs. The sentence, which was pronounced in Latin befitting the dignity and solemnity of the occasion, condemned the defendants to vacate the premises within six days on pain of anathema. The official begins by stating the case as that of “The People versus Locusts,” declaring that the guilt of the accused has been clearly proved “by the testimony of worthy witnesses and, as it were, by public rumour,” and inasmuch as the people have humbled themselves before God and supplicated the Church to succour them in their distress, it is not fitting to refuse them help and solace. “Walking in the footsteps of the fathers, sitting on the judgment-seat, having the fear of God before our eyes and confiding in his mercy, relying on the counsel of experts, we pronounce and publish our sentence as follows: “In the name and by virtue of God, the omnipotent, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and of Mary, the most blessed Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the authority of the holy apostles Peter and Paul, as well as by that which has made us a functionary in this case, we admonish by these presents the aforesaid locusts and grasshoppers and other animals by whatsoever name they may be called, under pain of malediction and anathema to depart from the vineyards and fields of this district within six days from the publication of this sentence and to do no further damage there or elsewhere.” If, on the expiration of this period, the animals have refused to obey this injunction, then they are to be anathematized and accursed, and the inhabitants of all classes are to beseech “Almighty God, the dispenser of all good gifts and the dispeller of all evils,” to deliver them from so great a calamity, not forgetting to join with devout supplications the performance of all good works and especially “the payment of tithes without fraud according to the approved custom of the parish, and to abstain from blasphemies and such other sins as are of a public and particularly offensive character.” (Vide Appendix B.) It is doubtful whether one could find in the ponderous tomes of scholastic divinity anything surpassing in comical non sequiturs and sheer nonsense the forensic eloquence of eminent lawyers as transmitted to us in the records of legal proceedings of this kind. Although the counsel for the defendants, as we have seen, ventured to question the propriety and validity of such prosecutions, his scepticism does not seem to have been taken seriously, but was evidently smiled at as the trick of a pettifogger bound to use every artifice to clear his clients. In the writings of mediÆval jurisprudents the right and fitness of inflicting judicial punishment upon animals appear to have been generally admitted. Thus Guy Pape, in his Decisions of the Parliament of Grenoble (Qu. 238), raises the query, whether a brute beast, if it commit a crime, as pigs sometimes do in devouring children, ought to suffer death, and answers the question unhesitatingly in the affirmative: “si animal brutum delinquat, sicut quandoque faciunt porci qui comedunt pueros, an debeat mori? Dico quod sic.” Jean Duret, in his elaborate Treatise on Pains and Penalties (TraictÉ des Peines et des Amendes, p. 250; cf. ThÉmis Jurisconsulte, VIII. p. 57), takes the same view, declaring that “if beasts not only wound, but kill and eat any person, as experience has shown to happen frequently in cases of little children being eaten by pigs, they should pay the forfeit of their lives and be condemned to be hanged and strangled, in order to efface the memory of the enormity of the deed.” The distinguished Belgian jurist, Jodocus Damhouder, discusses this question in his Rerum Criminalium Praxis (cap. CXLII.), and holds that the beast is punishable, if it commits the crime through natural malice, and not through the instigation of others, but that the owner can redeem it by paying for the damage done; nevertheless he is not permitted to keep ferocious or malicious beasts and let them run at large, so as to be a constant peril to the community. Occasionally a more enlightened jurist had the common-sense and courage to protest against such perversions and travesties of justice. Thus Pierre Ayrault, lieutenant-criminel au siÉge prÉsidial d’Angers, published at Angers, in 1591, a small quarto entitled: Des Procez faicts au Cadaver, aux Cendres, À la MÉmoire, aux Bestes brutes, aux Choses inanimÉes et aux Contumax, in which he argued that corpses, the ashes and the memory of the dead, brute beasts and inanimate things are not legal persons (legales homines) and therefore do not come within the jurisdiction of a court. Curiously enough a case somewhat analogous to those discussed by Pierre Ayrault was adjudicated upon only a few years ago. A Frenchman bequeathed his property to his own corpse, in behalf of which his entire estate was to be administered, the income to be expended for the preservation of his mortal remains and the adornment of the magnificent mausoleum in which they were sepulchred. His heirs-at-law contested the will, which was declared null and void by the court on the ground that “a subject deprived of individuality or of civil personality” could not inherit. The same principle would apply to the infliction of penalties upon such subjects. The only kind of legacy that will cause a man’s memory to be cherished is the form of bequest which makes the public weal his legatee. The Chinese still hold to the barbarous custom of bringing corpses to trial and passing sentence upon them. On the 6th of August, 1888, the cadaver of a salt-smuggler, who was wounded in the capture and died in prison, was brought before the criminal court in Shanghai and condemned to be beheaded. This sentence was carried out by the proper officers on the place of execution outside of the west gate of the city. Felix Hemmerlein, better known as Malleolus, a distinguished doctor of canon law and proto-martyr of religious reform in Switzerland, states in his Tractatus de Exorcismis, that in the fourteenth century the peasants of the Electorate of Mayence brought a complaint against some Spanish flies, which were accordingly cited to appear at a specified time and answer for their conduct; but “in consideration of their small size and the fact that they had not yet reached their majority,” the judge appointed for them a curator, who “defended them with great dignity”; and, although he was unable to prevent the banishment of his wards, he obtained for them the use of a piece of land, to which they were permitted peaceably to retire. How they were induced to go into this insect reservation and to remain there we are not informed. The Church, as already stated, claimed to possess the power of effecting the desired migration by means of her ban. If the insects disappeared, she received full credit for accomplishing it; if not, the failure was due to the sins of the people; in either case the prestige of the Church was preserved and her authority left unimpaired. In 1519, the commune of Stelvio, in Western Tyrol, instituted criminal proceedings against the moles or field-mice,[3] which damaged the crops “by burrowing and throwing up the earth, so that neither grass nor green thing could grow.” But “in order that the said mice may be able to show cause for their conduct by pleading their exigencies and distress,” a procurator, Hans Grinebner by name, was charged with their defence, “to the end that they may have nothing to complain of in these proceedings.” Schwarz Mining was the prosecuting attorney, and a long list of witnesses is given, who testified that the serious injury done by these creatures rendered it quite impossible for tenants to pay their rents. The counsel for the defendants urged in favour of his clients the many benefits which they conferred upon the community, and especially upon the agricultural class by destroying noxious insects and larvÆ and by stirring up and enriching the soil, and concluded by expressing the hope that, if they should be sentenced to depart, some other suitable place of abode might be assigned to them. He demanded, furthermore, that they should be provided with a safe conduct securing them against harm or annoyance from dog, cat or other foe. The judge recognized the reasonableness of the latter request, in its application to the weaker and more defenceless of the culprits, and mitigated the sentence of perpetual banishment by ordering that “a free safe-conduct and an additional respite of fourteen days be granted to all those which are with young and to such as are yet in their infancy; but on the expiration of this reprieve each and every must be gone, irrespective of age or previous condition of pregnancy.” (Vide Appendix C.) An old Swiss chronicler named Schilling gives a full account of the prosecution and anathematization of a species of vermin called inger, which seems to have been a coleopterous insect of the genus Brychus and very destructive to the crops. The case occurred in 1478 and the trial was conducted before the Bishop of Lausanne by the authority and under the jurisdiction of Berne. The first document recorded is a long and earnest declaration and admonition delivered from the pulpit by a Bernese parish-priest, Bernhard Schmid, who begins by stating that his “dearly beloved” are doubtless aware of the serious injury done by the inger and of the suffering which they have caused. The Leutpriester, as he is termed, gives a brief history of the matter and of the measures taken to procure relief. The mayor and common council of Berne were besought in their wisdom to devise some means of staying the plague, and after much earnest deliberation they held counsel with the Bishop of Lausanne, who “with fatherly feeling took to heart so great affliction and harm” and by an episcopal mandate enjoined the inger from committing further depredations. After exhorting the people to entreat God by “a common prayer from house to house” to remove the scourge, he proceeds to warn and threaten the vermin in the following manner: “Thou irrational and imperfect creature, the inger, called imperfect because there was none of thy species in Noah’s ark at the time of the great bane and ruin of the deluge, thou art now come in numerous bands and hast done immense damage in the ground and above the ground to the perceptible diminution of food for men and animals; and to the end that such things may cease, my gracious Lord and Bishop of Lausanne has commanded me in his name to admonish you to withdraw and to abstain; therefore by his command and in his name and also by virtue of the high and holy trinity and through the merits of the Redeemer of mankind, our Saviour Jesus Christ, and in virtue of and obedience to the Holy Church, I do command and admonish you, each and all, to depart within the next six days from all places where you have secretly or openly done or might still do damage, also to depart from all fields, meadows, gardens, pastures, trees, herbs, and spots, where things nutritious to men and to beasts spring up and grow, and to betake yourselves to the spots and places, where you and your bands shall not be able to do any harm secretly or openly to the fruits and aliments nourishing to men and beasts. In case, however, you do not heed this admonition or obey this command, and think you have some reason for not complying with them, I admonish, notify and summon you in virtue of and obedience to the Holy Church to appear on the sixth day after this execution at precisely one o’clock after midday at Wifflisburg, there to justify yourselves or to answer for your conduct through your advocate before His Grace the Bishop of Lausanne or his vicar and deputy. Thereupon my Lord of Lausanne or his deputy will proceed against you according to the rules of justice with curses and other exorcisms, as is proper in such cases in accordance with legal form and established practice.” The priest then exhorts his “dear children” devoutly to beg and to pray on their knees with Paternosters and Ave Marias to the praise and honour of the high and holy trinity, and to invoke and crave the divine mercy and help in order that the inger may be driven away. (Vide Appendix D.) There is no further record of proceedings at this time, and it is highly probable that the detection of some technical error rendered it necessary to postpone the case, since this pettifogger’s trick was almost always resorted to and proved generally successful in procuring an adjournment. At any rate either this or a precisely similar trial occurred in the following year. Early in May 1479, the mayor and common council of Berne sent copies of the monitorium and citation issued by the Bishop of Lausanne to their representative for distribution among the priests of the afflicted parishes, in order that it might be promulgated from their respective pulpits and thus brought to the knowledge of the delinquents. About a week later, on May 15, the same authorities sent also a letter to the Bishop of Lausanne asking for new instructions in the matter, as they were not certain how they should proceed, urging that immediate steps should be taken, as the further delay would be “utterly intolerable.” This impatience would seem to imply that the anathema had been hanging fire for some time and that the prosecution was identical with that of the preceding year. The appointed term having elapsed and the inger still persisting in their obduracy, the mayor and common council of Berne issued the following document conferring plenipotentiary power of attorney on ThÜring Fricker to prosecute the case: “We, the mayor, council and commune of the city of Berne, to all those of the bishopric of Lausanne, who see, read, or hear this letter. We make known that after mature deliberation we have appointed, chosen and deputed and by virtue of the present letter do appoint, choose and depute the excellent ThÜring Fricker, doctor of the liberal arts and of laws, our now chancellor, to be our legal delegate and agent and that of our commune, as well as of all the lands and places of the bishopric of Lausanne, which are directly or indirectly subject and appurtenant to us and of which a complete list is herein contained. And indeed he has assumed this general and special attorneyship, whereof the one shall not be prejudicial to the other, in the case which we have undertaken and prosecute and have determined to prosecute before the court of the right reverend in Christ Benedict de Montferrand, Bishop of Lausanne, Count and our most worthy Superior, against the noxious host of the inger (brucorum), which creeping secretly in the earth devastate the fields, meadows and all kinds of grain, whereby with grievous wrong they do detriment to the ever-living God, to whom the tithes belong, and to men, who are nourished therewith and owe obedience to him. In this cause he shall act in our stead, and in the name of all of us collectively and severally shall plead, demur, reply, prove by witnesses, hear judgment or judgments, appoint other defenders and in general and specially do each and every thing which the importance of the cause may demand and which we ourselves in case of our presence would be able to do. We solemnly promise in good faith that all and the whole of what may be transacted, performed, provided, pledged, and ordained in this cause by our aforesaid attorney or by the proxy appointed by him shall be firmly and gratefully observed by us, with the express renunciation of each and every thing that might either by right or actually, in any wise, either wholly or partially impair, weaken or assail our ordainment, conclusion and determination, also over against any reservation of right, which permits a general renunciation, even if no special reservation has preceded, with the exclusion of every fraud and every deceit. In corroboration and confirmation of the aforesaid we ratify this letter with the warranty of our seal. Given on the twenty-second of May 1479.” The trial began a couple of days later and was conducted with less “of the law’s delay” than usual, inasmuch as it ended on the twenty-ninth day of the same month. The defender of the insects was a certain Jean Perrodet of Freiburg, who according to all accounts was a very inefficient advocate and does not appear to have contested the case with the ability and energy which the interests of his clients required. The sentence of the court with the appended anathema of the bishop was as follows: “Ye accursed uncleanness of the inger, which shall not be called animals nor mentioned as such, ye have been heretofore by virtue of the appeal and admonition of our Lord of Lausanne enjoined to withdraw from all fields, grounds and estates of the bishopric of Lausanne, or within the next six days to appear at Lausanne, through your proctor, to set forth and to hear the cause of your procedure, and to act with just judgment either for or against you, pursuant to the said citation. Thereupon our gracious Lords of Berne solicited by their mandate such a day in court at Lausanne, and there before the tribunal renewed their plaint in their name and in that of all the provinces of the said bishopric, and your reply thereto through your proctor has been fully heard, and the legal terms have been justly observed by both parties, and a lawful decision pronounced word for word in this wise: “We, Benedict of Montferrand, Bishop of Lausanne, etc., having heard the entreaty of the high and mighty lords of Berne against the inger and the ineffectual and rejectable answer of the latter, and having thereupon fortified ourselves with the Holy Cross, and having before our eyes the fear of God, from whom alone all just judgments proceed, and being advised in this cause by a council of men learned in the law, do therefore acknowledge and avow in this our writing that the appeal against the detestable vermin and inger, which are harmful to herbs, vines, meadows, grain and other fruits, is valid, and that they be exorcised in the person of Jean Perrodet, their defender. In conformity therewith we charge and burden them with our curse, and command them to be obedient and anathematize them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, that they turn away from all fields, grounds, enclosures, seeds, fruits and produce, and depart. By virtue of the same sentence I declare and affirm that you are banned and exorcised, and through the power of Almighty God shall be called accursed and shall daily decrease whithersoever you may go, to the end that of you nothing shall remain save for the use and profit of man. Adiungendo aliquid in devotionem populi.” The phrase das si beswÄrt werden in die person Johannis Perrodeti irs beschirmers does not imply that the vermin or the devils, of which they were supposed to be incarnations, were to be conjured into him, but refer to him merely as their proctor and legal representative. The results of the prosecution, which had been awaited with intense and anxious interest by the people, were received with great joy, and the Bernese government ordered a full report of the proceedings to be made. The ecclesiastical anathema, however, proved to be brutum fulmen; nothing more came of it, says Schilling, “owing to our sins.” Another chronicler adds that God permitted the inger to remain as a plague and a punishment until the people repented of their wickedness and gave evidence of their love and gratitude to Him, namely, by giving to the Church tithes of what the insects had not destroyed. The Swiss priest in his malediction declares that the inger were not in Noah’s ark and even denies that they are animals properly speaking, stigmatizing them as living corruption, products of spontaneous generation perhaps, or more probably creations of the devil. This position was assumed in order to escape the gross impropriety and glaring incongruity of having the Church of God curse the creatures which God had made and pronounced very good, and afterwards took pains to preserve from destruction by the deluge. This difficulty, always a serious one, was, as we have seen, one of the chief points urged by the counsel for the defence in favour of his clients. Malleolus gives the following formula for banning serpents and expelling them from human habitations, inculcating incidentally the iniquity of perjury and judicial injustice: “By virtue of this ban and conjuration I command you to depart from this house and cause it to be as hateful and intolerable to you, as the man, who knowingly bears false witness or pronounces an unjust sentence, is to God.” Sometimes the exorcism was in the form of a prayer, as, for example, in that used for the purgation and disinfection of springs and water-courses: “O Lord Jesus, thou who didst bless the river Jordan and wast baptized in it and hast purified and cleansed it to the end that it might be a healing element for the redemption from sin, bless, sanctify and purify this water, so that there may be left in it nothing noxious, nothing pestiferous or contagious, nothing pernicious, but that everything in it may be pure and immaculate, in order that we may use whatever is created in it for our welfare and to thy glory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.” In a Latin protocol of legal proceedings in Crollolanza’s Storia del Contado di Chiavenna it is recorded that on June 26, 1659, Capt. J. B. Pestalozzi came, in behalf of the communes of Chiavenna, Mese, Gordona, Prada and Samolico, before the commissioner Hartmann Planta and brought complaint against certain caterpillars on account of the devastations committed by them, demanding that these hurtful creatures should be summoned by the proper sheriff to appear in court on June 28 at a specified hour in order to have a curator and defender appointed, who should answer for them to the plaintiffs. A second document, dated June 28, 1659, and signed by the notary Battista Visconti, certifies that the said summons had been duly issued and five copies of the same been posted each on a tree in the five forests in the territory of the aforesaid five communes. A third document of the same date required the advocate of the accused, Cesare de Peverello, to appear before the court on the following Tuesday, July 1, in behalf of his recusant clients, who were charged with trespassing upon the fields, gardens and orchards and doing great damage therein, instead of remaining in their habitat, the forest. The prosecutors required that they should seek their food in wild and wooded places and cease from ravaging cultivated grounds. A fourth document contains an account of the trial; the pleadings of the respective parties, so far as they are preserved, do not differ essentially from those already quoted. In the fifth and final document the court recognizes the right of the caterpillars to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, provided the exercise of this right “does not destroy or impair the happiness of man, to whom all lower animals are subject.” Accordingly a definite place of abode is to be assigned to them and various places are proposed. The protocol is incomplete, so that we are left in ignorance of the ultimate decision. The whole is written in execrable Latin quite worthy of the subject. More than half-a-century later the Franciscan friars of the cloister of St. Anthony in the province of Piedade no MaranhÃo, Brazil, were greatly annoyed by termites, which devoured their food, destroyed their furniture, and even threatened to undermine the walls of the monastery. Application was made to the bishop for an act of interdiction and excommunication, and the accused were summoned to appear before an ecclesiastical tribunal to give account of their conduct. The lawyer appointed to defend them urged the usual plea about their being God’s creatures and therefore entitled to sustenance, and made a good point in the form of an argumentum ad monachum by praising the industry of his clients, the white ants, and declaring them to be in this respect far superior to their prosecutors, the Gray Friars. He also maintained that the termites were not guilty of criminal aggression, but were justified in appropriating the fruits of the fields by the right derived from priority of possession, inasmuch as they had occupied the land long before the monks came and encroached upon their domain. The trial lasted for some time and called forth remarkable displays of legal learning and forensic eloquence, with numerous citations of sacred and profane authorities on both sides, and ended in a compromise, by the terms of which the plaintiffs were obliged to provide a suitable reservation for the defendants, who were commanded to go thither and to remain henceforth within the prescribed limits. In the chronicles of the cloister it is recorded, under date of Jan. 1713, that no sooner was the order of the prelatic judge promulgated by being read officially before the hills of the termites than they all came out and marched in columns to the place assigned. The monkish annalist regards this prompt obedience as conclusive proof that the Almighty endorsed the decision of the court. [Cited by Emile Angel on the authority of Manoel Bernardes’ Nova Floresta, ou Sylva de varios apophthegmas e ditos sentencios espirituaes e moraes, etc. Vol. V., LisboÁ, 1747.] About the middle of the sixteenth century the inhabitants of several villages in Aargau were greatly annoyed by swarms of gadflies and petitioned the Bishop of Constance for relief. In the episcopal rescript, written and signed by the vidame Georg Winterstetter, the people are enjoined to abstain from dancing on Sundays and feast days, from all forms of libidinousness, gambling with cards or dice and other frivolities. These injunctions are followed by prayer and the usual formulas of conjuration and exorcism. The original document was written in Latin and preserved in the archives of Baden in Switzerland, but is now lost. In 1566 the Landamman of Unterwalden, Johannes Wirz, took a German translation of it home with him to be used in case of need against the “vergifteten WÜrmer,” and deposited it in the archives of Obwalden, where it still remains. It was published in 1898 by Dr. Merz. In Protestant communities, the priest as exorcist has been superseded, to a considerable extent, by the professional conjurer, who in some portions of Europe is still employed to save crops from devouring insects and similar plagues. A curious instance of this kind is recorded in GÖrres’ Historisch-Politische BlÄtter for 1845 (Heft VII. p. 516). A Protestant gentleman in Westphalia, whose garden was devastated by worms, after having tried divers vermicidal remedies in vain, resolved to have recourse to a conjurer. The wizard came and walked about among the vegetables, touching them with a wand and muttering enchantments. Some workmen, who were repairing the roof of a stable near by, made fun of this hocus-pocus and began to throw bits of lime at the conjurer. He requested them to desist, and finally said: “If you don’t leave me in peace, I shall send all the worms up on the roof.” This threat only excited the hilarity of the scoffers, who continued to ridicule and disturb him in his incantations. Thereupon he went to the nearest hedge, cut a number of twigs, each about a finger in length, and placed them against the wall of the stable. Soon the vermin began to abandon the plants and, crawling in countless numbers over the twigs and up the wall, took complete possession of the roof. In less than an hour the men were obliged to stop working and stood in the court below covered with confusion and cabbage-worms. The writer, who relates this strange incident, fully believes that it actually occurred, and ascribes it to “the force of human faith and the magnetic power of a firm will over nature.” This, too, is the theory held by Paracelsus, who maintained that the effectiveness of a curse lay in the energy of the will, by which the wish, so to speak, concretes into a deed, just as anger directs the arm and actualizes itself in a blow. By “fervent desire” merely, without any physical effort or aggressive act, he deemed it possible to wound a man’s body or to pierce it through as with a sword. He also held that brutes are more easily exorcised or accursed than men, “for the spirit of man resists more than that of the brute.” Similar notions were entertained nearly a century later by Jacob Boehme, who defines magic as “doing in the spirit of the will,” an idea which finds more recent and more scientific expression in Schopenhauer’s doctrine of “the objectivation of the will.” Indeed, Schopenhauer’s postulate of the will as the sole energy and actuality in the universe is only the philosophic statement of an assumption, upon which magicians and medicine-men, enchanters, exorcists and anathematizers have acted more or less in all ages. We have a striking illustration of the workings of some such mysterious, quasi-hyperphysical force in hypnotism, the reality of which it is no longer possible to deny, however wonderful and incomprehensible its manifestations may appear. It is natural that a religion of individual initiative and personal responsibility, like Protestantism, should put less confidence in theurgic machinery and formularies of ex-cathedral execration than a religion like Catholicism, in which man’s spiritual concerns are entrusted to a hierarchical corporation to be managed according to traditional and infallible methods. This tendency crops out in a decree published at Dresden, in 1559, by “Augustus Duke and Elector,” wherein he commends the “Christian zeal of the worthy and pious parson, Daniel Greysser,” for having “put under ban the sparrows, on account of their unceasing and extremely vexatious chatterings and scandalous unchastity during the sermon, to the hindrance of God’s word and of Christian devotion.” But the Saxon parson, unlike the Bishop of Trier, did not expect that his ban would cause the offending birds to avoid the church or to fall dead on entering it. He relied less on the directly coercive or withering action of the curse than on the human agencies, which he might thereby set at work for the accomplishment of his purpose. By his proscription he put the culprits out of the pale of public sympathy and protection and gave them over as a prey to the spoiler, who was persuaded that he was doing a pious work by exterminating them. It was solemnly enjoined upon the hunter and the fowler to lie in wait for the anathematized sparrows with guns and with snares (durch mancherlei visirliche und listige Wege); and the Elector issued his decree in order to enforce this duty on all good Christians. (See Appendix E.) A faded and somewhat droll survival of ecclesiastical excommunication and exorcism is the custom, still prevailing in European countries and some portions of the United States, of serving a writ of ejectment on rats or simply sending them a friendly letter of advice in order to induce them to quit any house, in which their presence is deemed undesirable. Lest the rats should overlook and thus fail to read the epistle, it is rubbed with grease, so as to attract their attention, rolled up and thrust into their holes. Mr. William Wells Newell, in a paper on “Conjuring Rats,” printed in The Journal of American Folk-Lore (Jan.-March, 1892), gives a specimen of such a letter, dated, “Maine, Oct. 31, 1888,” and addressed in business style to “Messrs. Rats and Co.” The writer begins by expressing his deep interest in the welfare of said rats as well as his fears lest they should find their winter quarters in No. 1, Seaview Street, uncomfortable and poorly supplied with suitable food, since it is only a summer residence and is also about to undergo repairs. He then suggests that they migrate to No. 6, Incubator Street, where they “can live snug and happy” in a splendid cellar well stored with vegetables of all kinds and can pass easily through a shed leading to a barn containing much grain. He concludes by stating that he will do them no harm if they heed his advice, otherwise he shall be forced to use “Rough on Rats.” This threat of resorting to rat poison in case of the refusal to accept his kind counsel is all that remains of the once formidable anathema of the Church. In Scotland, when these domestic rodents became too troublesome, people of the lower classes are wont to post the following notice on the walls of their houses: “Ratton and mouse, Lea’ the puir woman’s house, Gang awa’ owre by to ’e mill, And there ane and a’ ye’ll get your fill.” In order to make the conjuration effective some particular abode must be assigned to them; it is not sufficient to bid them begone, but they are to be told to go to a definite place. The fact that they are usually sent across a river or brook may indicate a lingering tradition of their demoniacal character, since, according to a widespread popular superstition, a water-course is a barrier to hobgoblins and evil spirits: “A running stream they dare na cross.” In this case the rats, as imps of Satan, having reached their destination, would find it impossible to return. It was in Ireland, the native realm of bulls and like incongruities, that conjuring or “rhyming” rats seems to have been most common, if we may judge from the manner in which it is alluded to by the Elizabethan poets. Thus in As you Like It Rosalind says in reference to Orlando’s verses: “I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras’ time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.” Randolph declares: “My poets Shall with a satire, steep’d in gall and vinegar, Rhime ’em to death, as they do rats in Ireland.” Ben Jonson is still more specific: “Rhime ’em to death, as they do Irish rats, In drumming tunes.”From this reference to the mode of conjuring it appears that the repeating of the rhymes was accompanied with the beating of a drum, as is still the usage in France. From the very earliest times a peculiar magical potency has been ascribed to words woven into rhythmic form. The fascination which metrical expression, even as a mere jingle and jargon, still retains for the youth of the individual was yet far more strongly felt in the youth of the race. The simple song was intoned as a spell and the rude chant mumbled as a charm. In France the conjuration of field-mice bears a more distinctly religious stamp. On the first Sunday in Lent, the so-called Feast of the Torches (la FÊte des Brandons ou des Bures), the peasants wander in all directions through the fields and orchards with lighted torches of twisted straw, uttering the following incantation, which not only threatens to burn the whiskers of obdurate mice, but also hints at the wine-bibbing propensities of the curate: “Sortez, sortez d’ici, mulots! Ou je vais vous bruler les crocs! Quittez, quittez ces blÉs! Allez, vous trouverez Dans la cave du curÉ Plus À boire qu’À manger.” The form of imprecation varies in different provinces, but usually includes some threat of breaking the bones or burning the beards of the refractory rodents, in case they refuse to quit the close, as in the following summons: “Taupes et mulots, Sors de mon clos, Ou je te casse les os; Barbassione! Si tu viens dans non clos, Je te brÛle la barbe jusqu’aux os.” The utterance of these words is emphasized by loud and discordant noises of cat-calls, tin horns, and similar instruments of “Callithumpian” music. Gregory, who was Bishop of Tours in the latter half of the sixth century, states in his History of the Franks (VIII. 35) that bronze talismans representing dormice and serpents were used in Paris to protect the city against the ravages of these creatures; and when the town of Le Mans was rebuilt after its destruction by fire in 1145, a toad with a gold chain round its neck, was enclosed in a block of stone as a preservative against venomous reptiles. (Le Corvasier: Hist, des ÉvÊques du Mans, 1648, p. 441. Cf. Desnoyers: Recherches, etc., p. 7.) The use of the above-mentioned means of conjuration is unquestionably of very ancient date. Thus in a treatise on agriculture entitled t? ?e?p????? and consisting of twenty books, written in the tenth century by the Bithynian Byzantine, Kassianos Bassos, the following prescription is given for getting rid of field-mice: “Take a slip of paper and write on it these words: I adjure you, O mice, who dwell here not to injure me yourselves nor to permit any other mouse to do so; and I make over to you this field (describing it). But should I find you staying here after having been warned, with the help of the mother of the gods I will cut you in seven pieces.” The author quotes this recipe, in order, as he says, that nothing may remain unrecorded, but expressly declares that he has no confidence in its efficiency and advises the husbandman to put his trust in good rat-bane. Bassos derived the materials for his popular encyclopÆdia chiefly from the “Geoponics” composed by Anatolios and Didymos some six centuries earlier, and even most of his citations of classical writers are taken from the same sources. That the above-mentioned exorcism is pagan in its origin is evident from the invocation of the aid of Cybele for the destruction of disobedient vermin. In a Christian conjuration the Mother of God would have been substituted for the mother of the gods, whom the Greeks revered as the personification of all-creating and all-sustaining nature. The resemblance of this formula, which the Greeks may have borrowed with the worship of Cybele from the Phrygians, to the Yankee’s letter of advice is peculiarly interesting. In the ancient conjuration the harmful or undesirable animals were commanded to go to a certain locality, set apart for them, and this injunction was accompanied with dire threats in case of disobedience; the milder epistolary form of the present day is more advisory and persuasive and offers them inducements to migrate and to take up their abode elsewhere. Sometimes this kind counsel is given verbally, as, for example, in Thuringia, where it is customary to get rid of cabbage-worms by going into the garden, requesting them to depart, and calling out: “In yonder village is church-ale (Kirmes)”; thus implying that they will find better entertainment at this festival. (Witzschel: Sagen, Sitten und GebrÄuche aus ThÜringen. Wien, 1878, p. 217.) The willingness of peasant communities to ward off evil from themselves at the expense of their neighbours is a survival of the primitive ethics, which recognizes only the rights of the family or tribe and treats all aliens as foes. It is the same feeling that causes the inhabitants of the Alps to erect so-called weather-crosses (Wetterkreuze) for the purpose of averting thunder-storms and hailstones from themselves by diverting them into an adjacent valley. This method of protection is based upon the theory that tempests, hurricanes, and all violent commotions of nature are the work of demons or witches, who avoid the symbol of Christ’s death and the world’s redemption and direct their fury elsewhere. A like egotism is expressed in the inscription on many houses of peasants entreating St. Florian to preserve their habitation from flames and to set fire to others, as though the holy man must indulge his incendiary passion by pouring out upon some human abode the blazing vessel, which he is represented as bearing in his hand. The inscription is the same as that with which Reynard the Fox adorned his castle Malepartus, and which might be translated: “Saint Florian, thou martyr blessed, Protect this house and burn the rest.” Not only were insects, reptiles and small mammals, such as rats and mice, legally prosecuted and formally excommunicated, but judicial penalties, including capital punishment, were also inflicted upon larger quadrupeds. In the Report and Researches on this subject, published by Berriat-Saint-Prix in the Memoirs of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of France (Paris, 1829, Tome VIII. pp. 403-50), numerous extracts from the original records of such proceedings are given, and also a list of the kinds of animals thus tried and condemned, extending from the beginning of the twelfth to the middle of the eighteenth century, and comprising in all ninety-three cases. This list has been enlarged by D’Addosio so as to cover the period from 824 to 1845, and to include one hundred and forty-four prosecutions resulting in the execution or excommunication of the accused, but even this record is by no means complete. (Vide Appendix F for a still fuller list.) The culprits are a miscellaneous crew, consisting chiefly of caterpillars, flies, locusts, leeches, snails, slugs, worms, weevils, rats, mice, moles, turtle-doves, pigs, bulls, cows, cocks, dogs, asses, mules, mares and goats. Only those cases are reported in which the accused were found guilty; of these prosecutions, according to the above-mentioned registers, two belong to the ninth century, one to the eleventh, three to the twelfth, two to the thirteenth, six to the fourteenth, thirty-four to the fifteenth, forty-five to the sixteenth, forty-three to the seventeenth, seven to the eighteenth and one to the nineteenth century. To this list might be added other cases, such as the prosecution and malediction of noxious insects at Glurns in the Tyrol in 1519, at Als in Jutland in 1711, at Bouranton in 1733, at LyÖ in Denmark in 1805-6, and at Pozega in Slavonia in 1866. In the latter case one of the largest of the locusts was seized and tried and then put to death by being thrown into the water with anathemas on the whole species. A few years ago swarms of locusts devastated the region near Kallipolis in Turkey, and a petition was sent by the Christian population to the monks of Mount Athos begging them to bear in solemn procession through the fields the girdle of St. Basilius, in order to expel the insects. This request was granted, and as the locusts gradually disappeared, because there was little or nothing left for them to eat, the orthodox of the Greek Church from the bishop to the humblest laymen firmly believed or at least maintained that a miracle had been wrought. Pious Mohammedans exorcise and ostracize locusts and other harmful insects by reading the Koran aloud in the ravaged fields, as was recently done at Denislue in Asia Minor with satisfactory results. Also as late as 1864 at Pleternica in Slavonia, a pig was tried and executed for having maliciously bitten off the ears of a female infant aged one year. The flesh of the condemned animal was cut in pieces and thrown to the dogs, and the head of the family, in which the pig lived, as is the custom of pigs among the peasants of that country, was put under bonds to provide a dowry for the mutilated child, so that the loss of her ears might not prove to be an insuperable obstacle to her marriage. (Amira, p. 578.) It would be incorrect to infer from the tables just referred to that no judicial punishment of animals occurred in the tenth century or that the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries were peculiarly addicted to such practices. It is well known that during some of the darkest periods of the Middle Ages and even in later times the registers of the courts were very imperfectly kept, and in many instances the archives have been entirely destroyed. It is highly probable, therefore, that the cases of capital prosecution and conviction of animals, which have been collected and printed by Berriat-Saint-Prix and others, however thorough their investigations may have been, constitute only a very small percentage of those which actually took place.Beasts were often condemned to be burned alive; and strangely enough, it was in the latter half of the seventeenth century, an age of comparative enlightenment, that this cruel penalty seems to have been most frequently inflicted. Occasionally a merciful judge adhered to the letter of the law and curbed its barbarous spirit by sentencing the culprit to be slightly singed and then to be strangled before being committed to the flames. Sometimes brutes were doomed to be buried alive. Thus we have the receipt of “PhÉlippart, sergeant of high justice of the city of Amiens,” for the sum of sixteen soldi, in payment for services rendered in March 1463, in “having buried in the earth two pigs, which had torn and eaten with their teeth a little child in the faubourg of Amiens, who for this cause passed from life to death (Étoit allÉ de vie a trÉpas).” In 1557, on the 6th of December, a pig in the Commune of Saint-Quentin was condemned to be “buried all alive” (enfoui tout vif), “for having devoured a little child in l’hostel de la Couronne.” Again, a century earlier, in 1456, two pigs were subjected to this punishment, “on the vigil of the Holy Virgin,” at Oppenheim on the Rhine, for having killed a child. More than three centuries later the same means were employed for curing murrain, which in the summer of 1796 had broken out at Beutelsbach in WÜrtemberg and carried off many head of cattle. By the advice of a French veterinary doctor, who was quartered there with the army of General Moreau, the town bull was buried alive at the crossroads in the presence of several hundred persons. We are not informed whether this sacrifice proved to be a sufficiently “powerful medicine” to stay the epizoÖtic plague; the noteworthy fact is that the superstitious rite was prescribed and performed, not by an Indian magician or an African sorcerer, but by an official of the French republic. Animals are said to have been even put to the rack in order to extort confession. It is not to be supposed that, in such cases, the judge had the slightest expectation that any confession would be made; he wished merely to observe all forms prescribed by the law, and to set in motion the whole machinery of justice before pronouncing judgment. The statement of a French writer, Arthur Mangin (L’Homme et la BÊte. Paris, 1872, p. 344), that “the cries which they uttered under torture were received as confessions of guilt,” is absurd. No such notion was ever entertained by their tormentor. “The question,” which under the circumstances would seem to be only a wanton and superfluous act of cruelty, was nevertheless an important element in determining the final decision, since the sentence of death could be commuted into banishment, whipping, incarceration or some milder form of punishment, provided the criminal had not confessed his guilt under torture. The use of the rack might be, therefore, a merciful means of escaping the gallows. Appeals were sometimes made to higher tribunals and the judgments of the lower courts annulled or modified. In one instance a sow and a she-ass were condemned to be hanged; on appeal, and after a new trial, they were sentenced to be simply knocked on the head. Occasionally an appeal led to the acquittal of the accused. In 1266, at Fontenay-aux-Roses, near Paris, a pig convicted of having eaten a child was publicly burned by order of the monks of Sainte GeneviÈve. In 1386, the tribunal of Falaise sentenced a sow to be mangled and maimed in the head and forelegs, and then to be hanged, for having torn the face and arms of a child and thus caused its death. Here we have a strict application of the lex talionis, the primitive retributive principle of taking an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. As if to make the travesty of justice complete, the sow was dressed in man’s clothes and executed on the public square near the city-hall at an expense to the state of ten sous and ten deniers, besides a pair of gloves to the hangman. The executioner was provided with new gloves in order that he might come from the discharge of his duty, metaphorically at least, with clean hands, thus indicating that, as a minister of justice, he incurred no guilt in shedding blood. He was no common pig-killer, but a public functionary, a “master of high works” (maÎtre des hautes oeuvres), as he was officially styled. (Vide Appendix G.) We may add that the west wall of the south branch of the transept in the Church of the Holy Trinity (Sainte-TrinitÉ) at Falaise in Normandy was formerly adorned with a fresco-painting of this execution, which is mentioned in Statistique de Falaise (1827, t. I. 83), and more fully described by l’AbbÉ Pierre-Gilles Langevin, in his Recherches Historiques sur Falaise (1814, p. 146). In a Supplement (p. 12) to this work, published several years later, the AbbÉ states that, about the year 1820, the entire church, including the fresco, was whitewashed, so that the picture has since then been invisible, and, so far as can be ascertained, no engraving or other copy of it has ever been made. Unfortunately, too, as the same writer informs us, la chÂsse de la banniÈre (banner-holder) was fastened to the wall of the church on this very spot, thus covering and permanently destroying at least a portion of the painting. In 1394, a pig was found guilty of “having killed and murdered a child in the parish of Roumaygne, in the county of Mortaing, for which deed the said pig was condemned to be haled and hanged by Jehan Petit, lieutenant of the bailiff.” The work was really done by the hangman (pendart), Jehan Micton, who received for his services the sum of “fifty souls tournois.” (Vide Appendix H.) In another case the deputy bailiff of Mantes and Meullant presented a bill, dated March 15, 1403, which contained the following items of expense incurred for the incarceration and execution of an infanticide sow: “Cost of keeping her in jail, six sols parisis. “Item, to the master of high works, who came from Paris to Meullant to perform the said execution by comand and authority of the said bailiff, our master, and of the procurator of the king, fifty-four sols parisis. “Item, for a carriage to take her to justice, six sols parisis. “Item, for cords to bind and hale her, two sols eight deniers parisis. “Item, for gloves, two deniers parisis.” This account, which amounted in all to sixty-nine sols eight deniers parisis, was examined and approved by the auditor of the court, De Baudemont, who affixed to it his own seal with signature and paraph and “in further confirmation and approbation thereof caused it to be sealed with the seal of the Chatellany of Meullant, on the 15th day of March in the year 1403.” (See Appendix I.) In the following year a pig was executed at Rouvres for the same offence. Brutes and human criminals were confined in the same prison and subjected to the same treatment. Thus “Toustain Pincheon, keeper of the prisons of our lord the king in the town of Pont de Larche,” acknowledges the receipt, “through the hand of the honourable and wise man, Jehan Monnet, sheriff (vicomte) of the said town, of nineteen sous six deniers tournois for having found the king’s bread for the prisoners detained, by reason of crime, in the said prison.” The jailer gives the names of the persons in custody, and concludes the list with “Item, one pig, conducted into the said prison and kept there from the 24th of June, 1408, inclusive, till the 17th of the following July,” when it was hanged “for the crime of having murdered and killed a little child” (pource que icellui porc avoit muldry et tue ung pettit enfant). For the pig’s board the jailer charged two deniers tournois a day, the same as for boarding a man, thus placing the porker, even in respect to its maintenance, on a footing of perfect equality with the human prisoners. He also puts into the account “ten deniers tournois for a rope, found and furnished for the purpose of tying the said pig that it might not escape.” The correctness of the charges is certified to by “Jean Gaulvant, sworn tabellion of our lord the king in the viscounty of Pont de Larche.” (Vide Appendix J.) Again in 1474, the official of the Bishop of Lausanne sentenced a pig to be hanged “until death ensueth,” for having devoured an infant in its cradle in the vicinity of Oron, and to remain suspended from the gallows for a certain length of time as a warning to wrong-doers. It is also expressly stated that, in 1585, the body of a pig, which had been executed for the murder of a child at Saint-Omer, at the hostelry of Mortier d’Or, was left hanging “for a long space” on a gibbet in a field near the highway. (Derheims: Histoire de Saint-Omer, p. 327.) A little later a similar spectacle met the eyes of Guy Pape, as he was going to ChÂlons-sur-Marne in Champagne, to pay homage to King Henry IV. In his own words: dum ibam ad civitatem Cathalani in Campania ad Regem tunc ibi existentem, vidi quemdam porcum, in furcis suspensum, qui dicebatur occidisse quemdam puerum. (Quaestio CCXXXVIII: De poena bruti delinquentis. Lugduni, MDCX.) On the 5th of September, 1379, as two herds of swine, one belonging to the commune and the other to the priory of Saint-Marcel-le-Jeussey, were feeding together near that town, three sows of the communal herd, excited and enraged by the squealing of one of the porklings, rushed upon Perrinot Muet, the son of the swinekeeper, and before his father could come to his rescue, threw him to the ground and so severely injured him that he died soon afterwards. The three sows, after due process of law, were condemned to death; and as both the herds had hastened to the scene of the murder and by their cries and aggressive actions showed that they approved of the assault, and were ready and even eager to become participes criminis, they were arrested as accomplices and sentenced by the court to suffer the same penalty. But the prior, Friar Humbert de Poutiers, not willing to endure the loss of his swine, sent an humble petition to Philip the Bold, then Duke of Burgundy, praying that both the herds, with the exception of the three sows actually guilty of the murder, might receive a full and free pardon. The duke lent a gracious ear to this supplication and ordered that the punishment should be remitted and the swine released. (Vide Appendix K.) A peculiar custom is referred to in the procÈs verbal of the prosecution of a porker for infanticide, dated May 20, 1572. The murder was committed within the jurisdiction of the monastery of Moyen-Montier, where the case was tried and the accused sentenced to be “hanged and strangled on a gibbet.” The prisoner was then bound with a cord and conducted to a cross near the cemetery, where it was formally given over to an executioner from Nancy. “From time immemorial,” we are told, “the justiciary of the Lord Abbot of Moyen-Montier has been accustomed to consign to the provost of Saint-Diez, near this cross, condemned criminals, wholly naked, that they may be executed; but inasmuch as this pig is a brute beast, he has delivered the same bound with a cord, without prejudicing or in any wise impairing the right of the Lord Abbot to deliver condemned criminals wholly naked.” The pig must not wear a rope unless the right to do without it be expressly reserved, lest some human culprit, under similar circumstances, should claim to be entitled to raiment. “’Twill be recorded for a precedent; And many an error, by the same example Will rush into the state: it cannot be.” In the case of a mule condemned to be burned alive together with a man guilty of buggery, at Montpellier, in 1565, as the quadruped was vicious and inclined to kick (vitiosus et calcitrosus), the executioner cut off its feet before consigning it to the flames. This mutilation was an arbitrary and extra-judicial act, dictated solely by considerations of personal convenience. Hangmen often indulged in capricious and supererogatory cruelty in the exercise of their patibulary functions, and mediÆval as well as later writers on criminal jurisprudence repeatedly complain of this evil and call for reform. Thus Damhouder, in his Rerum Criminalium Praxis (cap. de carnifice, p. 234), urges magistrates to be more careful in selecting persons for this important office, and not to choose evil-doers, “assiduous gamblers, public whoremongers, malicious back-biters, impious blasphemers, assassins, thieves, murderers, robbers, and other violators of the law as vindicators of justice.” Indeed, these hardened wretches sometimes took the law into their own hands. For example, on the 9th of June, 1576, at Schweinfurt in Franconia, a sow, which had bitten off the ear and torn the hand of a carpenter’s child, was given into custody, whereupon the hangman, without legal authority, took it to the gallows-green (Schindrasen) and there “hanged it publicly to the disgrace and detriment of the city.” For this impudent usurpation of judiciary powers Jack Ketch was forced to flee and never dared return. Hence arose the proverbial phrase Schweinfurter Sauhenker (Schweinfurt sow-hangman), used to characterize a low and lawless ruffian and vile fellow of the baser sort. It was not the mere killing of the sow, but the execution without a judicial decision, the insult and contempt of the magistracy and the judicatory by arrogating their functions, that excited the public wrath and official indignation. Buggery (offensa cujus nominatio crimen est, as it is euphemistically designated in legal documents) was uniformly punished by putting to death both parties implicated, and usually by burning them alive. The beast, too, is punished and both are burned (punitur etiam pecus et ambo comburuntur), says Guillielmus Benedictinus, a writer on law, who lived about the end of the fourteenth century. Thus, in 1546, a man and a cow were hanged and then burned by order of the parliament of Paris, the supreme court of France. In 1466, the same tribunal condemned a man and a sow to be burned at Corbeil. Occasionally interment was substituted for incremation. Thus in 1609, at Niederrad, a man and a mare were executed and their bodies buried in the same carrion-pit. On the 12th of September, 1606, the mayor of Loens de Chartres, on complaint of the dean, canons, and chapter of the cathedral of Chartres, condemned a man named Guillaume Guyart to be “hanged and strangled on a gibbet in reparation and punishment of sodomy, whereof the said Guyart is declared accused, attainted and convicted.” A bitch, his accomplice, was sentenced to be knocked on the head (assommÉe) by the executioner of high justice and “the dead bodies of both to be burned and reduced to ashes.” It is furthermore added that if the said Guyart, who seems to have contumaciously given leg-bail, cannot be seized and apprehended in person, the sentence shall, in his case, be executed in effigy by attaching his likeness in painting to the gibbet. It was also decreed that all the property of the absconder should be confiscated and the sum of one hundred and fifty livres be adjudged to the plaintiffs, out of which the costs of the trial were to be defrayed. (Vide Appendix L.) This disgusting crime appears to have been very common; at least Ayrault in his Ordre Judiciaire, published in 1606, states that he has many times (multoties) seen brute beasts put to death for this cause. In his Magnalia Christi Americana (Book VI, (III), London, 1702) Cotton Mather records that “on June 6, 1662, at New Haven, there was a most unparalleled wretch, one Potter by name, about sixty years of age, executed for damnable Bestialities.” He had been a member of the Church for twenty years and was noted for his piety, “devout in worship, gifted in prayer, forward in edifying discourse among the religious, and zealous in reforming the sins of other people.” Yet this monster, who is described as possessed by an unclean devil, “lived in most infandous Buggeries for no less than fifty years together, and now at the gallows there were killed before his eyes a cow, two heifers, three sheep and two sows, with all of which he had committed his brutalities. His wife had seen him confounding himself with a bitch ten years before; and he then excused himself as well as he could, but conjured her to keep it secret.” He afterwards hanged the bitch, probably as a sort of vicarious atonement. According to this account he must have begun to practice sodomy when he was ten years of age, a vicious precocity which the author would doubtless explain on the theory of diabolical possession. In 1681, a habitual sodomite, who had been wont to defile himself with greyhounds, cows, swine, sheep and all manner of beasts, was brought to trial together with a mare, at WÜnschelburg in Silesia, where both were burned alive. In 1684, on the 3rd of May, a bugger was beheaded at Ottendorf, and the mare, his partner in crime, knocked on the head; it was expressly enjoined that in burning the bodies the man’s should lie underneath that of the beast. In the following year, fourteen days before Christmas, a journeyman tailor, “who had committed the unnatural deed of carnal lewdness with a mare,” was burned at Striga together with the mare. For the same offence Benjamin Deschauffour was condemned, May 25, 1726, to be tied to a stake and there burned alive “together with the minutes of the trial;” his ashes were strewed to the wind and his estates seized and, after the deduction of a fine of three thousand livres, confiscated to the benefit of his Majesty. In the case of Jacques Ferron, who was taken in the act of coition with a she-ass at Vanvres in 1750, and after due process of law, sentenced to death, the animal was acquitted on the ground that she was the victim of violence and had not participated in her master’s crime of her own free-will. The prior of the convent, who also performed the duties of parish priest, and the principal inhabitants of the commune of Vanvres signed a certificate stating that they had known the said she-ass for four years, and that she had always shown herself to be virtuous and well-behaved both at home and abroad and had never given occasion of scandal to any one, and that therefore “they were willing to bear witness that she is in word and deed and in all her habits of life a most honest creature.” This document, given at Vanvres on Sept. 19, 1750, and signed by “Pintuel Prieur CurÉ” and the other attestors, was produced during the trial and exerted a decisive influence upon the judgment of the court. As a piece of exculpatory evidence it may be regarded as unique in the annals of criminal prosecutions. The Carolina or criminal code of the emperor Charles V., promulgated at the diet of Ratisbon in 1532, ordained that sodomy in all its forms and degrees should be punished with death by fire “according to common custom” (“so ein Mensch mit einem Viehe, Mann mit Mann, Weib mit Weib, Unkeuschheit treibet, die haben auch das Leben verwircket, und man soll sie der gemeinen Gewohnheit nach mit dem Feuer vom Leben zum Tode richten.” Art. 116.), but stipulated that, if for any reason the punishment of the sodomite should be mitigated, the same measure of mercy should be shown to the beast. This principle is reaffirmed by Benedict Carpzov in his Pratica Nova Rerum Criminalium (Wittenberg, 1635), in which he states that “if for any cause the sodomite shall be punished only with the sword, then the beast participant of his crime shall not be burned, but shall be struck dead and buried by the knacker or field-master (Caviller oder Feldmeister).” The bugger was also bound to compensate the owner for the loss of the animal, or, if he left no property, the value must be paid out of the public treasury. “If the criminal act was not fully consummated, then the human offender was publicly scourged and banished, and the animal, instead of being killed, was put away out of sight in order that no one might be scandalized thereby” [Jacobi DÖpleri, Theatrum Poenarum Suppliciorum et Executionum Criminalium, oder Schau-Platz derer Leibes- und Lebens-Straffen, etc. Sondershausen, 1693, II. p. 151.] All Christian legislation on this subject is simply an application and amplification of the Mosaic law as recorded in Exodus xxii. 19 and Leviticus xx. 13-16, just as the cruel persecutions and prosecutions for witchcraft in mediÆval and modern times derive their authority and justification from the succinct and peremptory command: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” In the older criminal codes two kinds or degrees of sodomy are mentioned, gravius and gravissimum; the former being condemned in the thirteenth verse and the latter in the fifteenth and sixteenth verses of Leviticus. DÖpler tells some strange stories of the results of the peccatum gravissimum; and the fact that a sober writer on jurisprudence could believe and seriously narrate such absurdities, furnishes a curious contribution to the history of human credulity. It is rather odd that Christian law-givers should have adopted a Jewish code against sexual intercourse with beasts and then enlarged it so as to include the Jews themselves. The question was gravely discussed by jurists, whether cohabitation of a Christian with a Jewess or vice versa constitutes sodomy. Damhouder (Prax. Rer. Crim. c., 96, n. 48) is of the opinion that it does, and Nicolaus BoËr (Decis., 136, n. 5) cites the case of a certain Johannes Alardus or Jean Alard, who kept a Jewess in his house in Paris and had several children by her; he was convicted of sodomy on account of this relation and burned, together with his paramour, “since coition with a Jewess is precisely the same as if a man should copulate with a dog” (DÖpl., Theat., II. p. 157). Damhouder, in the work just cited, includes Turks and Saracens in the same category, “inasmuch as such persons in the eye of the law and our holy faith differ in no wise from beasts.” But to resume the subject of the perpetration of felonious homicide by animals, on the 10th of January, 1457, a sow was convicted of “murder flagrantly committed on the person of Jehan Martin, aged five years, the son of Jehan Martin of Savigny,” and sentenced to be “hanged by the hind feet to a gallows-tree (a ung arbre espronÉ).” Her six sucklings, being found stained with blood, were included in the indictment as accomplices; but “in lack of any positive proof that they had assisted in mangling the deceased, they were restored to their owner, on condition that he should give bail for their appearance, should further evidence be forthcoming to prove their complicity in their mother’s crime.” Above three weeks later, on the 2nd of February, to wit “on the Friday after the feast of Our Lady the Virgin,” the sucklings were again brought before the court; and, as their owner, Jehan Bailly, openly repudiated them and refused to be answerable in any wise for their future good conduct, they were declared, as vacant property, forfeited to the noble damsel Katherine de Barnault, Lady of Savigny. This case is particularly interesting on account of the completeness with which the procÈs verbal has been preserved. (See Appendix M.) Sometimes a fine was imposed upon the owner of the offending animal, as was the case with Jehan Delalande and his wife, who were condemned, on the 18th of April, 1499, by the bailiff of the Abbey of Josaphat near Chartres, to pay a fine of eighteen francs and to be confined in prison until this sum should be paid, “on account of the murder of a child named Gilon, aged five and a half years or thereabouts, perpetrated by a porker, aged three months or thereabouts.” The pig was condemned to be “hanged and executed by justice.” The owners were punished because they were supposed to have been culpably negligent of the child, who had been confided to their care and keeping, and not because they had, in the eye of the law, any proprietary responsibility for the infanticidal animal. The mulct implied remissness on their part as guardians or foster-parents of the infant. In general, as we have seen, the owner of the blood-guilty beast was considered wholly blameless and sometimes even remunerated for his loss. (Vide Appendix N.) According to the laws of the Bogos, a pastoral and nominally Christian tribe of Northern Abyssinia, a bull, cow or any other animal which kills a man is put to death; the owner of the homicidal beast is not held in any wise responsible for its crime, nevertheless he practically incurs a somewhat heavy penalty by not receiving any compensation for the loss of his property. This exercise of justice is quite common among the tribes of Central Africa. In Montenegro, horses, oxen and pigs have been recently tried for homicide and put to death, unless the owner redeemed them by paying a ransom. On the 14th of June, 1494, a young pig was arrested for having “strangled and defaced a young child in its cradle, the son of Jehan Lenfant, a cowherd on the fee-farm of Clermont, and of Gillon his wife,” and proceeded against “as justice and reason would desire and require.” Several witnesses were examined, who testified “on their oath and conscience” that “on the morning of Easter Day, as the father was guarding cattle and his wife Gillon was absent in the village of Dizy, the infant being left alone in its cradle, the said pig entered during the said time the said house and disfigured and ate the face and neck of the said child, which, in consequence of the bites and defacements inflicted by the said pig, departed this life (de ce siÈcle trÉpassa).” The sentence pronounced by the judge was as follows, “We, in detestation and horror of the said crime, and to the end that an example may be made and justice maintained, have said, judged, sentenced, pronounced and appointed, that the said porker, now detained as a prisoner and confined in the said abbey, shall be by the master of high works hanged and strangled on a gibbet of wood near and adjoinant to the gallows and high place of execution belonging to the said monks, being contiguous to their fee-farm of Avin.” The crime was committed “on the fee-farm of Clermont-lez-Montcornet, appertaining in all matters of high, mean and base justice to the monks of the order of Premonstrants,” and the prosecution was conducted by “Jehan Levoisier, licenciate in law, the grand mayor of the church and monastery of St. Martin de Laon of the order of Premonstrants and the aldermen of the same place.” The plaintiffs were the friars, who preferred charges against the pig and procured the evidence necessary to its conviction. (Vide Appendix O.) In 1394, a pig was hanged at Mortaign for having sacrilegiously eaten a consecrated wafer; and in a case of infanticide, it is expressly stated in the plaintiff’s declaration that the pig killed the child and ate of its flesh, “although it was Friday,” and this violation of the jejunium sextae, prescribed by the Church, was urged by the prosecuting attorney and accepted by the court as a serious aggravation of the porker’s offence. Nothing would be easier than to multiply examples of this kind. Infanticidal swine were hanged in 1419 at Labergement-le-Duc, in 1420 at Brochon, in 1435 at TrochÈres, and in 1490 at Abbeville; the last-mentioned execution took place “under the auspices of the aldermanity and with the tolling of the bells.” It was evidently regarded as a very solemn affair. The records of mediÆval courts, the chronicles of mediÆval cloisters, and the archives of mediÆval cities, especially such as were under episcopal sovereignty and governed by ecclesiastical law, are full of such cases. The capital punishment of a dumb animal for its crimes seems to us so irrational and absurd, that we can hardly believe that sane and sober men were ever guilty of such folly; yet the idea was quite familiar to our ancestors even in Shakespeare’s day, in the brilliant Elizabethan age of English literature, as is evident from a passage in Gratiano’s invective against Shylock: “thy currish spirit Govern’d a wolf, who, hang’d for human slaughter, Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, And, whilst thou lay’st in thy unhallow’d dam, Infus’d itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starv’d, and ravenous.”That such cases usually came under the jurisdiction of monasteries and so-called spiritualities and were tried by their peculiarly organized tribunals, will not seem strange, when we remember that these religious establishments were great landed proprietors and at one time owned nearly one-third of all real estate in France. The frequency with which pigs were brought to trial and adjudged to death, was owing, in a great measure, to the freedom with which they were permitted to run about the streets and to their immense number. The fact that they were under the special protection of St. Anthony of Padua conferred upon them a certain immunity, so that they became a serious nuisance, not only endangering the lives of children, but also generating and disseminating diseases. It is recorded that in 1131, as the Crown Prince Philippe, son of Louis the Gross, was riding through one of the principal streets of Paris, a boar, belonging to an abbot, ran violently between the legs of his horse, so that the prince fell to the ground and was killed. In some cities, like Grenoble in the sixteenth century, the authorities treated them very much as we do mad dogs, empowering the carnifex to seize and slay them whenever found at large. On Nov. 20, 1664, the municipality of Naples passed an ordinance that the pigs, which frequented the streets and piazzas to the detriment and danger of the inhabitants, should be removed from the city to a wood or other uninhabited place or be slaughtered within twelve days on pain of the penalties already prescribed and threatened, probably in the order issued on Nov. 3, of the same year. It would seem, however, that these ordinances did not produce the desired effect, or soon fell into abeyance, since another was promulgated four years later, on Nov. 29, 1668, expelling the pigs from the city and calling attention to the fact that they corrupted the atmosphere and thus imperiled the public health. Sanitary considerations and salutary measures of this kind were by no means common in the Middle Ages, but were a gradual outgrowth of the spirit of the Renaissance. It was with the revival of letters that men began to love cleanliness and to appreciate its hygienic value as well as its Æsthetic beauty. Little heed was paid to such things in the “good old times” of earlier date, when the test of holiness was the number of years a person went unwashed, and the growth of the soul in sanctity was estimated by the thickness of the layers of filth on the body, as the age of the earth is determined by the strata which compose its crust. The freedom of the city almost universally enjoyed by mediÆval swine is still maintained by their descendants in many towns of Southern Italy and Sicily, where they ramble at will through the streets or assemble in council before the palace of the prefect (cf. D’Addosio, Bestie Delinquenti, pp. 23-5).In the latter half of the sixteenth century the tribunals began to take preventive measures against the public nuisance by holding the inhabitants responsible for the injuries done to individuals by swine running at large and by threatening with corporal as well as pecuniary punishment all persons who left “such beasts without a good and sure guard.” Thus it is recorded that on the 27th of March, 1567, “a sow with a black snout,” “for the cruelty and ferocity” shown in murdering a little child four months old, having “eaten and devoured the head, the left hand and the part above the right breast of the said infant,” was condemned to be “exterminated to death, and to this end to be hanged by the executioner of high justice on a tree within the metes and bounds of the said judicature on the highway from Saint-Firmin to Senlis.” The court of the judicatory of Senlis, which pronounced this sentence on complaint of the procurator of the seigniory of Saint-Nicolas, also forbade all the inhabitants and subjects of the said seignioralty to permit the like beasts to go unguarded on pain of an arbitrary fine and of corporal chastisement in default of payment. (Vide Appendix P.) But although pigs appear to have been the principal culprits, especially as regard infanticide, other quadrupeds were frequently called to answer for similar crimes. Thus, in 1314, a bull belonging to a farmer in the village of Moisy, escaped into the highway, where it attacked a man and injured him so severely that he died a few hours afterwards. The ferocious animal was seized and imprisoned by the officers of Charles, Count of Valois, and after being tried and convicted was sentenced to be hanged. This judgment of the court was confirmed by the Parliament of Paris and the execution took place at Moisy-le-Temple on the common gallows. An appeal based upon the incompetency of the court was then made by the Procurator of the Order of the Hospital of the Ville de Moisy to the Parliament of La Chandeleur, which decided that the bull had met with its deserts and been justly put to death, but that the Count of Valois had no jurisdiction on the territory of Moisy, and his officials no power to institute proceedings in this case. The sentence was right in equity, but judicially and technically wrong, and could not therefore serve as a precedent. There is also extant an order issued by the magistracy of Gisors in 1405, commanding payment to be made to the carpenter who had erected the scaffold on which an ox had been executed “for its demerits.” Again on the 16th of May, 1499, the judicial authorities of the Cistercian Abbey of BeauprÉ near Beauvais condemned a red bull to be “executed until death inclusively,” for having “killed with furiosity a lad of fourteen or fifteen years of age, named Lucas Dupont,” who was employed in tending the horned cattle of the farmer Jean Boullet. (Vide Appendix Q.) In 1389, the Carthusians of Dijon caused a horse to be condemned to death for homicide; and as late as 1697 a mare was burned by the decision and decree of the Parliament of Aix, which, it must be remembered, was not a legislative body, but a supreme court of judicature, thus differing in its functions from the States General, the only law-making and representative assembly in France, that may be said to have corresponded in the slightest degree to the modern conception of a parliament. In 1474, the magistrates of BÂle sentenced a cock to be burned at the stake “for the heinous and unnatural crime of laying an egg.” The auto da fÉ was held on a height near the city called the Kohlenberg, with as great solemnity as would have been observed in consigning a heretic to the flames, and was witnessed by an immense crowd of townsmen and peasants. The statement made by Gross in his Kurze Basler Chronik, that the executioner on cutting open the cock found three more eggs in him, is of course absurd; we have to do in this case not with a freak of nature, but with the freak of an excited imagination tainted with superstition. Other instances of this kind have been recorded, one in the Swiss PrÄttigau as late as 1730, although in many cases the execution of the gallinaceous malefactor was more summary and less ceremonious than at BÂle. The oeuf coquatri was supposed to be the product of a very old cock and to furnish the most active ingredient of witch ointment. When hatched by a serpent or a toad, or by the heat of the sun it brought forth a cockatrice or basilisk, which would hide in the roof of the house and with its baneful breath and “death-darting eye” destroy all the inmates. Many naturalists believed this fable as late as the eighteenth century, and in 1710 the French savant Lapeyronie deemed this absurd notion worthy of serious refutation, and read a paper, entitled “Observation sur les petits oeufs de poule sans jaune, que l’on appelle vulgairement oeufs de Coq,” before the Academy of Sciences in order to prove that cocks never lay and that the small and yolkless eggs attributed to them owe their peculiar shape and condition to a disease of the hen resulting in a hydropic malformation of the oviduct. A farmer brought him several specimens of this sort, somewhat larger than a pigeon’s egg, and assured him that they had been laid by a cock in his own barnyard. On opening one of them, M. Lapeyronie was surprised to find only a very slight trace of the yolk resembling “a small serpent coiled.” He now began to suspect that the cock might be an hermaphrodite, but on killing and dissecting it discovered nothing in support of this theory, the internal organs being all perfectly healthy and normal. But although the unfortunate chanticleer had fallen a victim to the scientific investigation of a popular delusion, the eggs in question continued to be produced, until the farmer by carefully watching the fowls detected the hen that laid them. The dissection showed that the pressure of a bladder of serous fluid against the oviduct had so contracted it, that the egg in passing had the yolk squeezed out of it, leaving merely a yellowish discoloration that looked like a worm. Another peculiarity of this hen was that she crowed like “a hoarse cock” (un coq enrouÉ), only more violently; a phenomenon also a source of terror to the superstitious, but ascribed by M. Lapeyronie to the same morbid state of the oviduct and the consequent pain caused by the passage of the egg (MÉmoires de l’AcadÉmie de Sciences. Paris, 1710, pp. 553-60.) A Greek physiologus of the twelfth century, written in verse, calls the animal hatched from the egg of an old cock epte?????a, a name which would imply some sort of winged creature. It was “sighted like the basilisk,” and endowed also in other respects with the same fatal qualities. In the case of a valuable animal, such as an ox or a horse, the severity of retaliatory justice was often tempered by economical considerations and the culprit confiscated, but not capitally punished. Thus as early as the twelfth century it is expressly stated that “it is the law and custom in Burgundy that if an ox or a horse commit one or several homicides, it shall not be condemned to death, but shall be taken by the Seignior within whose jurisdiction the deed was perpetrated or by his servitors and be confiscated to him and shall be sold and appropriated to the profit of the said Seignior; but if other beasts or Jews do it, they shall be hanged by the hind feet” (Coustumes et Stilles de Bourgoigne, § 197 in Giraud: Essai sur l’Histoire du Droit Francais, II. p. 302; quoted by Amira). It was a cruel irony of the law that conferred upon pigs and Jews a perfect equality of rights by sending them both to the scaffold. Animals were put on a par with old crones in bearing their full share of persecution during the witchcraft delusion. Pigs suffered most in this respect, since they were assumed to be peculiarly attractive to devils, and therefore particularly liable to diabolical possession, as is evident from the legion that went out of the lunatic and were permitted, at their own request, to enter into the Gadarene herd of swine. But Beelzebub did not disdain to become incarnate in all sorts of creatures, such as cats, dogs of high and low degree, wolves, night-birds and indeed in any beast, especially if it chanced to be black. Goats, it is well known, were not a too stinking habitation for him, and even to dwell in skunks he did not despise. The perpetual smell of burning sulphur in his subterranean abode may render him proof against any less suffocating form of stench. The Bible represents Satan as going about as a roaring lion; and according to the highest ecclesiastical authorities he has appeared visibly as a raven, a porcupine, a toad and a gnat. Indeed, there is hardly a living creature in which he has not deigned to disport himself from a blue-bottle to a bishop, to say nothing of his “appearing invisibly at times” (aliquando invisibiliter apparens), if we may believe what the learned polyhistor Tritheim tells of his apparitions. As all animals were considered embodiments of devils, it was perfectly logical and consistent that the Prince of Darkness should reveal himself to mortal ken as a mongrel epitome of many beasts—snake, cat, dog, pig, ape, buck and horse each contributing some characteristic part to his incarnation. It was during the latter half of the seventeenth century, when, as we have seen, criminal prosecutions of animals were still quite frequent and the penalties inflicted extremely cruel, that Racine caricatured them in Les Plaideurs, where a dog is tried for stealing and eating a capon. Dandin solemnly takes his seat as judge, and declares his determination to “close his eyes to bribes and his ears to brigue.” Petit Jean prosecutes and L’Intime appears for the defence. Both address the court in florid and high-flown rhetoric and display rare erudition in quoting Aristotle, Pausanias and other ancient as well as modern authorities. The accused is condemned to the galleys. Thereupon the counsel for the defendant brings in a litter of puppies, pauvres enfants qu’on veut rendre orphelins, and appeals to the compassion and implores the clemency of the judge. Dandin’s feelings are touched, for he, too, is a father; as a public officer, also, he is moved by the economical consideration of the expense to the state of keeping the offspring of the culprit in a foundling hospital, in case they should be deprived of paternal support. To the contemporaries of Racine the representation of a scene like this had a significance, which we fail to appreciate. It strikes us as simply farcical and not very funny; to them it was a mirror reflecting a characteristic feature of the time and ridiculing a grave judicial abuse, as Cervantes, a century earlier, burlesqued the institution of chivalry in the adventures of Don Quixote. (See Appendix R.) Lex talionis is the oldest kind of law and the most deeply rooted in human nature. To the primitive man and the savage, tit for tat is an ethical axiom, which it would be thought immoral as well as cowardly not to put into practice. No principle is held more firmly or acted upon more universally than that of literal and exact retributions in man’s dealings with his fellows—the iron rule of doing unto others the wrongs which others have done unto you. Hebrew legislation demanded “life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.” An old Anglo-Saxon law made this retaliatory principle of membrum pro membro the penalty of all crimes of personal violence, including rape; even a lascivious eye was to be plucked out, in accordance with the doctrine that “whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” [“Corruptor puniatur in eo in quo deliquat: oculos igitur amittat, propter aspectum decoris, quo virginem concupivit; amittat et testiculos, qui calorem stupri induxerunt.” Cf. Bracton, 147b; Reeves, I. 481.] This was believed to be God’s method of punishment, smiting with disease or miraculously destroying the bodily organs, which were the instruments of sin. Thus Stengelius (De Judiciis Divinis, II. 26, 27) records how a thunderbolt was hurled by the divine hand in such a manner as to castrate a lascivious priest: impurus et saltator sacerdos fulmine castratus. The same sort of retributive justice was recognized by the Institutes of Manu, which punished a thief by the amputation or mutilation of his fingers. In the covenant with Noah it was declared that human blood should be required not only “at the hand of man,” but also “at the hand of every beast;” and it was subsequently enacted, in accordance with this fundamental principle, that “if an ox gore a man or a woman that they die, then the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not be eaten.” To eat a creature which had become the peer of man in blood-guiltiness and in judicial punishment, would savour of anthropophagy. This decision of Jewish law-givers as to the use of the flesh of otherwise edible animals condemned to death for crime has nearly always been followed. Thus when, in 1553, several swine were executed for child-murder at Frankfort on the Main, their carcasses, although doubtless as good pork as could be found in the shambles, were thrown into the river. Usually, however, they were buried under the gallows or in whatever spot was set apart for interring the dead bodies of human criminals. At Ghent, however, in 1578, after judicial sentence of death had been pronounced on a cow, she was slaughtered and her flesh sold as butcher’s meat, half of the proceeds of the sale being given as compensation to the injured party and the other half to the city treasury for distribution among the poor; but her head was struck off and stuck on a stake near the gallows, to indicate that she had been capitally punished. The thrifty Flemings did not permit the moral depravity to taint the material substance of the bovine culprit and impair the excellence of the beef. On the other hand, the Law Faculty of the University of Leipsic decided that a cow, which had pushed a woman and thereby caused her death at Machern in Saxony, July 20, 1621, should be taken to a secluded and barren place and there killed and buried “unflayed.” In this case the flesh of the homicidal animal was not to be eaten nor the hide converted into leather. (Vide Appendix S.) In this connection it may be interesting to mention a decision of the Ecclesiastical Court (geistlicher Convent) of Berne, given in 1666 and recorded in TÜrler’s Strafrechtliche Gutachten des geistlichen Konvents der Stadt Bern (Zeitschrift fÜr schweiz. Strafrecht, Bd. III., Heft 5. Quoted by Tobler). An insane man was tried for murder and the prosecutor seems to have urged that the lack of moral responsibility did not suffice to relieve the accused of legal responsibility and to free him from punishment, citing as pertinent to the case the Mosaic law, which inflicted the death penalty on an ox for the like offence. On this point the court replied: “In the first place, that specifically Jewish law is not binding upon other governments, and is not observed by them either as regards oxen or horses. Again, even if the Jewish law should be really applicable to all men, it could not be appealed to in the present case, since it is not permissible to draw an inference a bove ad hominem. Inasmuch as no law is given to the ox, it cannot violate any, in other words, cannot sin and therefore cannot be punished. On the other hand, death is a severe penalty for man. Nevertheless if God commanded that the ‘goring ox’ should be killed, this was done in order to excite aversion to the deed, to prevent the animal from injuring others, and in this manner to punish the owner of the beast. This fact, however, proves nothing touching the case now before us; for, although God enacted a law for the ox, he did not enact any for the insane man, and the distinction between the goring ox and the maniac must be observed. An ox is created for man’s sake, and can therefore be killed for his sake; and in doing this there is no question of right or wrong as regards the ox; on the other hand, it is not permissible to kill a man, unless he has deserved death as a punishment.” The remarkable points in this decision are, first, the abrogation of a biblical enactment by an ecclesiastical court of the seventeenth century, and, secondly, the discussion of a criminal act from a psychiatrical point of view and the admission of extenuating and exculpating circumstances derived from this source. The Koran holds every beast and fowl accountable for injuries done to each other, but reserves their punishment for the life to come. Among the Kukis, if a man falls from a tree and is killed, it is the sacred duty of the next of kin to fell the tree, and cut it up and scatter the chips abroad. The spirit of the tree was supposed to have caused the mishap, and the blood of the slain was not thought to be thoroughly avenged until the offending object had been effaced from the earth. A survival of this notion was the custom of burning heretics and flinging their ashes to the four winds or casting them upon rivers running into the sea. The laws of DrakÔn and Erechtheus required weapons and all other objects, by which a person had lost his life, to be publicly condemned and thrown beyond the Athenian boundaries. This sentence of banishment, then regarded as one of the severest that could be inflicted, was pronounced upon a sword, which had killed a priest, the wielder of the same being unknown; and also upon a bust of the elegiac poet Theognis, which had fallen on a man and caused his death. Even in cases which, one would think, might be regarded as justifiable homicide in self-defence, no such ground of exculpation seems to have been admitted. Thus the statue erected by the Athenians in honour of the famous athlete, NikÔn of Thasos, was assailed by his envious foes and pushed from its pedestal. In falling it crushed one of its assailants, and was therefore brought before the proper tribunal and sentenced to be cast into the sea. Judicial proceedings of this kind were called ?????? d??a? (prosecutions of lifeless things) and were conducted before the Athenian law-court known as the Prytaneion; they are alluded to by Æschines, Pausanias, Demosthenes, and other writers, and briefly described in the Onomasticon of Julius Pollux and the Lexicon Decem Oratorum Graecorum of Valerius Harpokration.Strictly speaking, the term ?????? should be applied only to an inanimate object and not to the brute, which was more correctly called ?f???? (dumb); but this distinction was not always observed either in common parlance or in legal phraseology. The law on this point as formulated and expounded by Plato (De Leg., IX. 12) was as follows: “If a draught animal or any other beast kill a person, unless it be in a combat authorized and instituted by the state, the kinsmen of the slain shall prosecute the said homicide for murder, and the overseers of the public lands (????????), as many as may be commissioned by the said kinsmen, shall adjudicate upon the case and send the offender beyond the boundaries of the country (??????e??, exterminate in the literal and original sense of the term). If a lifeless thing shall deprive a person of life, provided it may not be a thunderbolt (?e?a????) or other missile (????) hurled by a god, but an object which the said person may have run against or by which he may have been struck and slain, then the kinsman immediate to the deceased shall appoint the nearest neighbour as judge in order to purify himself as well as his next of kin from blood-guiltiness, but the culprit (t? ?f???) shall be put beyond the boundaries, in the same manner as if it were an animal.” In the same section it is enacted that if a person be found dead and the murderer be unknown, then proclamation shall be made by a herald on the market-place forbidding the murderer to enter any sanctuary or the land of the slain, and declaring that, if discovered, he shall be put to death and his body be thrown unburied beyond the boundaries of the country of the person killed. The object of these measures was to appease the Erinnys or avenging spirit of the deceased, and to avert the calamities which would otherwise be brought upon the land, in accordance with the strict law of retribution demanding blood for blood, no matter whether it may have been shed wilfully or accidentally. [Cf. Æschylus, Cho., 395, where this law (????) is clearly and strongly affirmed.] The same superstitious feeling leads the hunters of many savage tribes to beg pardon of bears and other wild animals for killing them and to purify themselves by religious rites from the taint incurred by such an act, the ?asa of murder, as the Greeks called it. Quite recently in China fifteen wooden idols were tried and condemned to decapitation for having caused the death of a man of high military rank. On complaint of the family of the deceased the viceroy residing at Fouchow ordered the culprits to be taken out of the temple and brought before the criminal court of that city, which after due process of law sentenced them to have their heads severed from their bodies and then to be thrown into a pond. The execution is reported to have taken place in the presence of a large concourse of approving spectators and “amid the loud execrations of the masses,” who seem in their excitement to have “lost their heads” as well as the hapless deities. When the Russian prince Dimitri, the son of Ivan II., was assassinated on May 15, 1591, at Uglich, his place of exile, the great bell of that town rang the signal of insurrection. For this serious political offence the bell was sentenced to perpetual banishment in Siberia, and conveyed with other exiles to Tobolsk. After a long period of solitary confinement it was partially purged of its iniquity by conjuration and re-consecration and suspended in the tower of a church in the Siberian capital; but not until 1892 was it fully pardoned and restored to its original place in Uglich. A like sentence was imposed by a Russian tribunal on a butting ram in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Mathias Abele von Lilienberg, in his Metamorphosis Telae Judiciariae, of which the eighth edition was published at Nuremberg in 1712, states that a drummer’s dog in an Austrian garrison town bit a member of the municipal council in the right leg. The drummer was sued for damages, but refused to be responsible for the snappish cur and delivered it over to the arm of justice. Thereupon he was released, and the dog sentenced to one year’s incarceration in the NarrenkÖtterlein, a sort of pillory or iron cage standing on the market-place, in which blasphemers, evil-livers, rowdies and other peace-breakers were commonly confined. [The NarrenkÖtterlein, NarrenkÖderl or Kotter formerly on the chief public squares in Vienna are described as “MenschenkÄfige mit Gittern von Eisen und Holz, bestimmt das darin versperrte Individuum dem Spotte des PÖbels preiszugeben (zu narren).” SchlÄger: Wiener Skizzen aus dem Mittelalter, II. 245.] Mornacius also relates that several mad dogs, which attacked and tore in pieces a Franciscan novice in 1610, were “by sentence and decree of the court put to death.” It is surely reasonable enough that mad dogs should be killed; the remarkable feature of the case is that they should be formally tried and convicted as murderers by a legal tribunal, and that no account should have been taken of their rabies as an extenuating circumstance or ground of acquittal. In such a case the plea of insanity would certainly seem to be naturally suggested and perfectly valid. On the other hand, it is expressly declared in the Avesta that a mad dog shall not be permitted to plead insanity in exculpation of itself, but shall be “punished with the punishment of a conscious and premeditated offence” (baodho-varsta), i.e. by progressive mutilation, corresponding to the number of persons or beasts it has bitten, beginning with the loss of its ears, extending to the crippling of its feet and ending with the amputation of its tail. This cruel and absurd enactment is wholly inconsistent with the kindly spirit shown in the Avesta towards all animals recognized as the creatures of Ahuramazda, and especially with the many measures taken by the Indo-Aryans as a pastoral people for the protection of the dog. Indeed, a paragraph immediately following in the same chapter commands the Mazdayasnians to treat such a rabid dog humanely, and to “wait upon him with medicaments and to try to heal him, just as they would care for a righteous man.” On this important point Avestan legislation is so inconsistent and self-contradictory that one may justly suspect the harsh enactments to be later interpolations. A curious example of imputed crime and its penal consequences is seen in the Roman custom of celebrating the anniversary of the preservation of the Capitol from the night-attack of the Gauls, not only by paying honour to the descendants of the sacred geese, whose cries gave warning of the enemy’s approach, adorning them with jewels and carrying them about in litters, but also by crucifying a dog, as a punishment for the want of vigilance shown by its progenitors on that occasion. This imputation of merit and demerit was really no more absurd than to visit the sins of the fathers on the children, as prescribed by Jewish and other ancient lawgivers, or to decree corruption of blood in persons attainted of treason, as is still the practice of modern states, or any other theory of inherited guilt or scheme of vicarious atonement, that sets the sin of the federal head of the race to the account of his remotest posterity and relieves them from its penalties only through the suffering and death of a wholly innocent person. They are all applications of the barbarous principle, which, in primitive society, with its gross conceptions of justice, made the entire tribe responsible for the conduct of each of its members. The vendetta, which continues to be the unwritten but inviolable code of many semi-civilized communities, is based upon the same conception of consanguineous solidarity for the perpetration and avenging of crime. According to an old Anglo-Saxon law, abolished by King Canute, in case stolen property was found in the house of a thief, his wife and family, even to the infant in the cradle, though it had never taken food (peÂh hit nafre metes ne ÂbÎte), were punished as partakers of his guilt. The Schwabenspiegel, the oldest digest of South German law, treated as accessaries all the domestic animals found in a house, in which a crime of violence had been committed, and punished them with death. [“Man soll allez daz tÖtden daz in den huze ist gevonden: leuten und vie, ros und rinder, hunde und katzen, ganzen und hundre.” § 290.] Cicero approved of such penalties for political crimes as “severe but wise enactments, since the father is thereby bound to the interests of the state by the strongest of ties, namely, love for his children.” Roman law under the empire punished treason with death and then added: “As to the sons of traitors, they ought to suffer the same penalty as their parents, since it is highly probable that they will sometime be guilty of the same crime themselves; nevertheless, as a special act of clemency, we grant them their lives, but, at the same time, declare them to be incapable of inheriting anything from father or mother or of receiving any gift or bequest in consequence of any devise or testament of kinsmen or friends. Branded with hereditary infamy and excluded from all hope of honour or of property, may they suffer the torture of disgrace and poverty until they shall look upon life as a curse and long for death as a kind release.” This atrocious edict of the emperors Arcadius and Honorius has its counterpart in the still more radical code of Pachacutez, the Justinian of the ancient Peruvians, which punished adultery with the wife of an Inca by putting to death not only the adulteress and her seducer, but also the children, slaves and kindred of the culprits, as well as all the inhabitants of the city in which the crime was committed, while the city itself was to be razed and the site covered with stones. The principle enunciated by Cicero has also been accepted by modern legislators as applicable to high treason. Thus, when Tschech, the burgomaster of Storkow, attempted to take the life of Frederic William of Prussia, July 26, 1844, he was tried and executed Dec. 14 of the same year. On the day after his execution his only daughter, Elizabeth, was arrested, and to her inquiry by what right she had been deprived of her freedom, the authorities replied that, “according to Prussian law the children of a person convicted of high treason and all the members of his family, especially if they seemed to be dangerous and to share the opinions of their father, can be imprisoned for life or banished from the country.” The young lady was then exiled to Westphalia, and there placed in the custody of an extremely austere parson, until she finally escaped to France, and afterwards to Switzerland, where she spent the rest of her days. When the prefects Tatian and Proculus fell into disgrace, Lycia, their native land, was deprived of the autonomy it had hitherto enjoyed as a Roman province, and its inhabitants were disfranchised and declared incapable of holding any office under the empire. So, too, when Joshua discovered some of the spoils of Jericho hidden in the tent of Achan, not only the thief himself, but also “his sons, and his daughters, and his oxen, and his asses, and his sheep, and his tent, and all that he had,” were brought into the valley of Achor, and there stoned with stones and burned with fire. About this time, however, such holocausts of justice were suppressed among the Jews, and a law enacted that henceforth “the fathers shall not be put to death, for the children, neither shall the children be put to death for the fathers, every man shall be put to death for his own sin;” or, as Jeremiah expresses it figuratively, the children’s teeth were to be no longer set on edge by the sour grapes which their fathers had eaten. Yet the persistency of time-honoured custom and its power of overriding new statutes are seen in the fact that, several centuries later, at the request of the Gibeonites, whom it had become desirable to conciliate, David did not scruple to deliver up to them seven of Saul’s sons to be hanged for the evil which their father had wrought in slaying these foes of Israel. It would have been a parallel case if Bismarck had sought to win the friendship and favour of the French by giving into their hands the descendants of BlÜcher to be guillotined on the Place de la Concorde, or, after having made a political pilgrimage to Canossa, should surrender the children of Dr. Falk to be racked and burned at the stake by the ultramontanes. According to the current orthodox theology, treason against God, committed by our common progenitor, worked “corruption of blood” in the whole human race, all the children of men being attainted with guilt in consequence of the act of their first parent. This crude and brutal conception of justice is the survival of a primitive and barbarous state of society, and it is curious to observe how the most highly civilized peoples, who have outgrown this notion and set it aside in the secular relations of man to man, still cling to it as something sacred and sublime in the spiritual relations of man to the deity. Only the all-wise and all-powerful sovereign of the universe is supposed to continue to administer law and justice on principles which common-sense and the enlightened opinion of mankind have long since abrogated and banished from earthly legislation. Thus the divine government, instead of keeping pace with the progress of human institutions, still corresponds to the ideals of right and retribution entertained by savage tribes and the lowest types of mankind. The horrible mutilations to which criminals were formerly subjected, originated in an endeavour to administer strictly even-handed justice. What could be fairer or more fit than to punish perjury by cutting off the two fingers which the perjurer had held up in taking the violated oath? It was a popular belief that the fingers of an undetected perjurer would grow out of the grave after death, seeking retributive amputation, as a plant seeks the light, and that his ghost would never rest until this penalty had been inflicted. (See Heinrich Roch: Schles. Chron., p. 267, where a case of this kind is recorded.) The Carolina (constitutio criminalis Carolina), although in many respects an advance on mediÆval penal legislation, doomed incendiaries to be burned alive; and an old law, cited by DÖpler (Theat. Poen., II. 271), condemned a man who had dug up and removed a boundary stone to be buried in the earth up to his neck and to have his head plowed off with a new plow, thus symbolizing in his own person the grave offence which he had committed. Ivan Basilovitch, a Muscovite prince, ordered that an ambassador, who did not uncover in his presence, should have his hat nailed to his head; and it is a feeble survival of the same idea of proper punishment that makes the American farmer nail the dead hawk to his barn-door, just as in former times it was customary to crucify highway robbers at cross-roads. According to an old Roman law ascribed to Numa Pompilius, the oxen which plowed up a boundary stone, as well as their driver, were sacrificed to Jupiter Terminus. In the early development of agriculture, and the transition from communal to personal property in land, this severe enactment was deemed necessary to the protection of the “sacra saxa,” by which the boundary lines of the fields were defined. Only by making the violation of enclosed ground a sacrilege was it possible to prevent encroachments upon it, so strong was the lingering prejudice against individual possessions of this kind running in the blood of a people descended from nomadic tribes of herdsmen, who regarded sedentary communities engaged in tilling the soil as their direst foes. The lawgiver knew very well that the oxen were involuntary agents, and that the plowman alone was culpable; but when a religious atonement is to be made and an angry god appeased, moral distinctions determining degrees of responsibility are uniformly ignored, and the innocent are doomed to suffer with the guilty. The oxen were tainted by the performance of an act, in which the exercise of their will was not involved, and must therefore be consigned to the offended deity. The same is true of the plowman, who did not escape immolation even when the motio termini or displacement of the boundary stone occurred unintentionally. That the feeling, which found expression in such enactments and usages and survives in schemes of expiation and vicarious sacrifice, lies scarcely skin-deep under the polished surface of our civilization, is evident from the force and suddenness with which it breaks out under strong excitement, as when Cincinnati rioters burn the court-house because they suspect the judges of venality and are dissatisfied with the verdicts of the juries. The primitive man and the savage, like the low and ignorant masses of civilized communities, do not take into consideration whether the objects from which they suffer injury are intelligent agents or not, but wreak their vengeance on stocks and stones and brutes, obeying only the rude instinct of revenge. The power of restraining these aboriginal propensities, and of nicely analyzing actions and studying mental conditions in order to ascertain degrees of moral responsibility, presupposes a high degree of mental development and refinement and great acuteness of psychological perception, and is, in fact, only a recent acquisition of a small minority of the human race. The vast bulk of mankind will have to pass through a long process of intellectual evolution, and rise far above their present place in the ascending scale of culture before they attain it. For this reason Lombroso would abolish trial by jury, which seems to him not a sign of progress towards better judicatory methods, but a clumsy survival of primitive justice as administered by barbarous tribes and even gregarious animals. It makes the administration of justice dependent upon popular prejudice and passion, and finds its most violent expression or explosion in lynch law, which is only trial by a jury of the whole community gone mad. It would certainly be a dismal farce to apply to the criminal classes the principle that every man must be judged by his peers. In the cantonal courts of Switzerland the verdict of the jury is uniformly in favour of the native against the foreigner, no matter what the merits of the case may be; and this outrageous perversion of right and equity is called patriotism, a term which conveniently sums up and euphemizes the general sentiment of Helvetian innkeepers and tradesmen that “the stranger within their gates” is their legitimate spoil, and has no other raison d’Être. In Italy, especially in Naples and Sicily, a thief may be sometimes condemned, but a murderer is almost invariably acquitted by the jury, whose decision expresses the corrupted moral sense of a people accustomed to admire the bandit as a hero and to consider brigandage a highly honourable profession. The childish disposition to punish irrational creatures and inanimate objects, which is common to the infancy of individuals and of races, has left a distinct trace of itself in that peculiar institution of English law known as deodand, and derived partly from Jewish and partly from old German usages and traditions. “If a horse,” says Blackstone, “or any other animal, of its own motion kill as well an infant as an adult, or if a cart run over him, they shall in either case be forfeited as deodand.” If a man, in driving a cart, tumble to the ground and lose his life by the wheel passing over him, if a tree fall on a man and cause his death, or if a horse kick his keeper and kill him, then the wheel, the tree and the horse are deodands pro rege, and are to be sold for the benefit of the poor. Omnia quae movent ad mortem sunt Deo danda is the principle laid down by Bracton. If therefore a cart-wheel run over a man and kill him, not only is the wheel, but also the whole cart to be declared deodand, because the momentum of the cart in motion contributed to the man’s death; but if the shaft fall upon a man and kill him, then only the shaft is deodand, since the cart did not participate in the crime. It is also stated, curiously enough, that if an infant fall from a cart not in motion and be killed, neither the horse nor the cart shall be declared deodand; not so, however, if an adult come to his death in this manner. The ground of this distinction is not quite clear; although it may arise from the assumption that the child had no business there, or that such an accident could not have happened to an adult, unless there was something irregular and perverse in the conduct of the animal or the vehicle. In the archives of Maryland, edited by Dr. William Hand Browne and Miss Harrison in 1887, mention is made of an inquest held January 31, 1637, on the body of a planter, who “by the fall of a tree had his bloud bulke broken.” “And furthermore the Jurors aforesaid upon their oath aforesaid say that the said tree moved to the death of the said John Bryant; and therefore find the said tree forfeited to the Lord Proprietor.” According to an old Anglo-Saxon law a sword or other object by which a man had been slain, was not regarded as pure (gesund) until the crime had been expiated, and therefore could not be used, but must be set apart as a sacrifice. A sword-cutler would not take such a weapon to polish or repair without a certificate that it was gesund or free from homicidal taint, so as not to render himself liable for any harm it might inflict, since it was supposed to exert a certain magical and malicious influence. Also an ancient municipal law of the city of Schleswig stipulated that the builder of a house should be held responsible in case any one should be killed by a beam, block, rafter or other piece of timber, and pay a fine of nine marks, or give the object that had committed the manslaughter to the family or kinsmen of the slain. If he failed to do so and built the contaminated timber into the edifice, then the owner had to atone for the homicide with the whole house. (Cf. Heinrich Brunner: Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, II. p. 557, Anm. 31.) A modern survival of this legal principle is the notion, current especially among criminals, that any part of the body of a deceased person, or better still of an executed murderer, exerts a magical and protective power or brings good luck. It is by no means uncommon among the peasants and lower classes of Europe to put the finger of a dead thief under the threshold in order to protect the house homoepathically against theft. The persistency of this superstition is shown by the fact that a farmer’s hired man named Sier and belonging to the hamlet of Heumaden, was tried at Weiden in Bavaria, May 23, 1894, and convicted of having exhumed the body of a newly buried child in the churchyard of Moosbach and taken out one of its eyes, which he supposed would render him invisible to mortal sight like the famous tarnkappe of old German mythology, and thus enable him to indulge with impunity his propensity to steal. For this sacrilege he was sentenced to one year and two months’ imprisonment and to the loss of civil rights for three years. In some of the Scottish islands it is the custom to beach a boat, from which a fisherman had been drowned, cursing it for its misdeed and letting it dry and fall to pieces in the sun. The boat is guilty of manslaughter and must no longer be permitted to sail the sea with innocent craft. Scotch law does not seem to have recognized deodand in the strictly etymological sense of the term, but only escheat, in other words, the confiscated objects were not necessarily applied to pious purposes—pro anima regis et omnium fidelium defunctorum—but were simply forfeited to the king or to the state. This form of confiscation never prevailed so generally in Central and Eastern, as in Western Europe. Some German communities and territorial sovereigns introduced it from France, but so modified the practical application of the principle as to award to the injured party the greater portion, in LÜneburg, for example, two-thirds of the value of the confiscated animal or object. (Vide Kraut’s Stadtrecht von LÜneburg, No. XCVII. Cited by Von Amira, p. 594.) Blackstone’s theories of the origin of deodands are exceedingly vague and unsatisfactory. Evidently the learned author of the Commentaries could give no consistent explanation of these vestiges of ancient criminal legislation. His statement that they were intended to punish the owner of the forfeited property for his negligence, and his further assertion that they were “designed, in the blind days of popery, as an expiation for the souls of such as were snatched away by sudden death,” are equally incorrect. In most cases the owner was perfectly innocent and very frequently was himself the victim of the accident. He suffered only incidentally from a penalty imposed for a wholly different purpose, just as a slaveholder incurs loss when his human chattel commits murder and is hanged for it. The primal object was to atone for the taking of life in accordance with certain crude conceptions of retribution. Under hierarchical governments the prominent idea was to appease the wrath of God, who otherwise might visit mankind with famine and pestilence and divers retaliatory scourges. For the same reason the property of a suicide was deodand. Thus the wife and children of the deceased, who may be supposed to have already suffered most from the fatal act, were subjected to additional punishment for it by being robbed of their rightful inheritance. Yet this was by no means the intention of the lawmakers, who simply wished to prescribe an adequate atonement for a grievous offence, and in seeking to accomplish this main purpose, ignored the effect of their action upon the fortunes of the heirs or deemed it a matter of minor consideration. Ancient legislators uniformly regarded a felo de se as a criminal against society and treated him as a kind of traitor. The man had enjoyed the support and protection of the body-politic during his infancy and youth, and, by taking his own life, he shook off the responsibilities and shirked the duties devolving upon him as an adult member of the commonwealth. This is why self-murder was called felony and as such involved forfeiture of goods. Calchas would not permit the body of “the mad Ajax,” who died by his own hand, to be burned; and the Christian Church of to-day refuses to bury in consecrated ground with religious rites any person who deliberately cuts short the thread of his existence and thus commits treason against the Most High. The Athenians ignominiously lopped off the hand of a suicide and buried the guilty instrument of his death, as an accursed thing, apart from the rest of the interred or incremated body. In some communities all persons over sixty years of age have been left free to kill themselves, if they wished to do so. They had performed the duties of citizenship and of procreation and were permitted to retire in this way, if they saw fit. In very ancient times, the magistrates of Massalia (Marseilles, then a Greek colony) are said to have kept on hand a supply of poison to be given to any citizen, who, on due examination, was found to have good and sufficient reason for taking his own life. Suicide was thus legalized and facilitated, and thereby rendered honourable, and was perhaps found more convenient and economical than to grant pensions or to support paupers. It was a summary method of getting rid of those who had finished the struggle for existence or failed in it, and in either case might be a burden to themselves or to the state. On the other hand, when a suicidal mania seized upon the maidens of Miletos, an Ionian city in Caria, and threatened to produce a dearth of wives and mothers, the municipal authorities decreed that the bodies of all such persons should be exposed naked in the market-place, in order that virgin modesty and shame might overcome the desire of death, and check a self-destructive passion extremely detrimental to the Milesian commonwealth. It is true, as Blackstone asserts, that the Church claimed deodands as her due and put the price of them into her own coffers; but this fact does not explain their origin. They were an expression of the same feeling that led the public authorities to fill up a well, in which a person had been drowned, not as a precautionary measure, but as a solemn act of expiation; or that condemned and confiscated a ship, which, by lurching, had thrown a man overboard and caused his death. Deodands were not abolished in England until the reign of Queen Victoria. With the exception of some vestiges of primitive legislation still lingering in maritime law, they are, in modern codes, one of the latest applications of a penal principle, which, in Athens, expatriated stocks and stones, and in other countries of Europe excommunicated bugs and sent beasts to the stake and to the gallows.
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