Robert Means Lawrence

Jests, like salt, should be used sparingly.—Similitudes of Democritus.

I. ORIGIN AND HISTORY

The origin of the use of common salt as a condiment is hidden in the mazes of antiquity. Although we have no evidence that this important article of diet was known to the antediluvians, there is still abundant proof that it was highly esteemed as a seasoner of food long before the Christian era. In a Greek translation of a curious fragment of the writings of the semi-fabulous Phoenician author, Sanchoniathon, who is said to have lived before the Trojan war, the discovery of the uses of salt is attributed to certain immediate descendants of Noah, one of whom was his son Shem.[253]

From the mythical lore of Finland we learn that Ukko, the mighty god of the sky, struck fire in the heavens, a spark from which descending was received by the waves and became salt. The Chinese worship an idol called Phelo, in honor of a mythological personage of that name, whom they believe to have been the discoverer of salt and the originator of its use. His ungrateful countrymen, however, were tardy in their recognition of Phelo’s merits, and that worthy thereupon left his native land and did not return. Then the Chinese declared him to be a deity, and in the month of June each year they hold a festival in his honor, during which he is everywhere eagerly sought, but in vain; he will not appear until he comes to announce the end of the world.

Among the Mexican Nahuas the women and girls employed in the preparation of salt were wont to dance at a yearly festival held in honor of the Goddess of salt, Huixtocihuatl, whose brothers the rain-gods are said, as the result of a quarrel, to have driven her into the sea, where she invented the art of making the precious substance.[254]

The earliest Biblical mention of salt appears to be in reference to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. (Genesis xix. 24-26.) When King Abimelech destroyed the city of Shechem, an event which is believed to have occurred in the thirteenth century B. C., he is said to have “sowed salt on it,” this phrase expressing the completeness of its ruin.[255] (Judges ix. 45.) It is certain that the use of salt as a relish was known to the Jewish people at a comparatively early period of their history. For in the sixth chapter of the Book of Job occurs this passage: “Can that which is unsavoury be eaten without salt?”

In Eastern countries it is a time-honored custom to place salt before strangers as a token and pledge of friendship and good-will. The phrase “to eat some one’s salt” formerly signified being in that person’s service, and in this sense it is used in the Book of Ezra, iv. 14, where the expression, “we have maintenance from the king’s palace,” means literally, “we are salted with the salt of the palace,” which implies being in the service of the king. And from the idea of being in the employment of a master, and eating his salt, the phrase in question came to denote faithfulness and loyalty.[256]

As an instance of the superstitious reverence with which salt is regarded in the East, it is related that Yacoub ben Laith, who founded the dynasty of Persian princes known as the Saffarides, was of very humble origin, and in his youth gained a livelihood as a free-booter. Yet so chivalrous was he that he never stripped his victims of all their belongings, but always left them something to begin life with anew.

On one occasion this gallant robber had forcibly and by stealth entered the palace of a prince, and was about departing with considerable spoil, when he stumbled over an object which his sense of taste revealed to be a lump of salt. Having thus involuntarily partaken of a pledge of hospitality in another man’s house, his honor overcame his greed of gain and he departed without his booty.[257]

Owing to its antiseptic and preservative qualities, salt was emblematic of durability and permanence; hence the expression “Covenant of Salt.” It was also a symbol of wisdom, and in this sense was doubtless used by St. Paul when he told the Colossians that their speech should be seasoned with salt.

Homer called salt divine, and Plato described it as a substance dear to the gods.

Perhaps the belief in its divine attributes may have been a reason for the employment of salt as a sacrificial offering by the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans, all of whom, moreover, regarded it as an indispensable relish.

Plutarch said that without salt nothing was savory or toothsome, and that this substance even imparted an additional flavor to wines, thus causing them “to go down the throat merrily.” And the same writer remarked that, as bread and salt were commonly eaten together, therefore Ceres and Neptune were sometimes worshiped together in the same temple.[258]

II. SALT UNCONGENIAL TO WITCHES AND DEVILS

Grimm remarks that salt is not found in witches’ kitchens, nor at devils’ feasts, because the Roman Catholic Church has taken upon herself the hallowing and dedication of this substance. Moreover, inasmuch as Christians recognize salt as a wholesome and essential article of diet, it seems plausible enough that they should regard it as unsuitable for the use of devils and witches, two classes of beings with whom they have no particular sympathy. Hence perhaps the familiar saying that “the Devil loveth no salt in his meat.”

Once upon a time, according to tradition, there lived a German peasant whose wife was a witch, and the Devil invited them both to supper one fine evening. All the dishes lacked seasoning, and the peasant, in spite of his wife’s remonstrances, kept asking for salt; and when after a while it was brought, he remarked with fervor, “Thank God, here is salt at last,” whereupon the whole scene vanished.[259]

The abbot Richalmus, who lived in the old German duchy of Franconia in the twelfth century, claimed, by the exercise of a special and extraordinary faculty, to be able to baffle the machinations of certain evil spirits who took special delight in playing impish tricks upon churchmen. They appear, indeed, to have sorely tried the patience of the good abbot in many ways, as, for example, by distracting his thoughts during Mass and interfering with his digestion, promoting discords in the church music, and causing annoyance by inciting the congregation to cough in sermon time. Fortunately he possessed three efficient weapons against these troublesome creatures, namely, the sign of the cross, holy water, and salt.

“Evil spirits,” wrote the abbot, “cannot bear salt.” When he was at dinner, and the Devil had maliciously taken away his appetite, he simply tasted a little salt, and at once became hungry. Then, if soon afterwards his appetite again failed him, he took some more salt, and his relish for food speedily returned.[260]

In Hungarian folk-lore, contrary to the usual opinion, evil personages are fond of salt, for at those festive gatherings described in old legends and fairy tales, where witches and the Devil met, they were wont to cook in large kettles a stew of horse-flesh seasoned with salt, upon which they eagerly feasted.

Hence appears to have originated the popular notion current among the Magyars that a woman who experiences a craving for salt in the early morning must be a witch, and on no account should her taste be gratified.

Once upon a time, says tradition, a man crept into a witch’s tub in order to spy upon the proceedings at a meeting of the uncanny sisterhood.

Shortly thereafter the witch appeared, saddled the tub, and rode it to the place of rendezvous, and on arriving there the man contrived to empty a quantity of salt into the tub. After the revels he was conveyed homewards in the same manner, and showed the salt to his neighbors as proof positive that he had really been present at the meeting. Sometimes, however, salt is used in Hungary as a protection against witches. The threshold of a new house is sprinkled with it, and the door-hinges are smeared with garlic, so that no witch may enter.[261]

The peasants of Russian Esthonia are aware of the potency of salt against witches and their craft. They believe that on St. John’s Eve witch-butter is maliciously smeared on the doors of their farm-buildings in order to spread sickness among the cattle. When, therefore, an Esthonian farmer finds this obnoxious butter on his barn-door or elsewhere, he loads his gun with salt and shoots the witch-germs away.[262]

The Hindus have a theory that malignant spirits, or BhÚts, are especially prone to molest women and children immediately after the latter have eaten confectionery and other sweet delicacies.

Indeed, so general is this belief that vendors of sweetmeats among school-children provide their youthful customers each with a pinch of salt to remove the sweet taste from their mouths, and thus afford a safeguard against the ever-watchful BhÚts.[263]

III. THE LATIN WORD “SAL”

Owing to the importance of salt as a relish, its Latin name sal came to be used metaphorically as signifying a savory mental morsel, and, in a general sense, wit or sarcasm.[264] It was formerly maintained by some etymologists that this word had a threefold meaning according to its gender. Thus, when masculine, it has the above signification, but when feminine it means the sea, and only when neuter does it stand for common salt. The characterization of Greece as “the salt of nations” is attributed to Livy, and this is probably the origin of the phrase “Attic salt,” meaning delicate, refined wit. The phrase cum grano salis may signify the grain of common sense with which one should receive a seemingly exaggerated report. It may also mean moderation, even as salt is used sparingly as a seasoner of food.

Among the ancients, as with ourselves, Sol and sal, the Sun and salt, were known to be two things essential to the maintenance of life.

Soldiers, officials, and working people were paid either wholly or in part in salt,[265] which was in such general use for this purpose that any sum of money paid for labor or service of whatever kind was termed a salarium, or salary, that is, the wherewithal to obtain one’s salt.[266]

Pliny remarked that salt was essential for the complete enjoyment of life, and in confirmation of this statement he commented on the fact that the word sales was employed to express the pleasures of the mind, or a keen appreciation of witty effusions, and, therefore, was associated with the idea of good fellowship and mirth.[267]

A certain mystic significance has been attributed to the three letters composing the word “sal.” Thus, the letter S, standing alone, represents or suggests two circles united together, the sun and the moon. It typifies, moreover, the union of things divine and mundane, even as salt partakes of the attributes of each. A, alpha, signifies the beginning of all things; while L is emblematic of something celestial and glorious. S and L represent solar and lunar influences respectively, and the trio of letters stand for an essential substance provided by God for the benefit of his people. In a curious treatise on salt, originally published in 1770, the writer launches forth in impassioned style the most extravagant encomiums upon this substance, which he avers to be the quintessence of the earth. Salt is here characterized as a Treasure of Nature, an Essence of Perfection, and the Paragon of Preservatives. Moreover, whoever possesses salt thereby secures a prime factor of human happiness among material things.[268]

The French people employ the word “salt” metaphorically in several common expressions. Thus, in speaking of the lack of piquancy or pointedness in a dull sermon or address, they say, “There was no salt in that discourse.” And of the brilliant productions of a favorite author they remark, “He has sprinkled his writings with salt by handfuls.”[269] In like manner they use the term un epigramme salÉ to denote a cutting sarcasm or raillery. Very apt also is the following definition by an old English writer:[270] “Salt, a pleasaunt and merrie word that maketh folks to laugh and sometime pricketh.” The expression “to salt an invoice” signifies to increase the full market value of each article, and corresponds to one use of the French verb saler, to overcharge, and hence to “fleece” or “pluck.” Thus the phrase Il me l’a bien salÉ means “He has charged me an excessive price.”[271]

IV. SALT EMPLOYED TO CONFIRM AN OATH

In the records of the Presbytery of Edinburgh, under date of September 20, 1586, is to be found the following description of an oath which Scotch merchants were required to take when on their way to the Baltic:—

Gypsies likewise sometimes use bread and salt to confirm the solemnity of an oath. An example of this is recorded in the “Pesther Lloyd” of July 1, 1881. A member of a gypsy band in western Hungary had been robbed of a sum of money, and so informed his chief, who summoned the elders of the camp to a council. On an upright cross formed of two poles was placed a piece of bread sprinkled with salt, and upon this each gypsy was required to swear that he was not the thief. The real culprit, refusing to take so solemn an oath, was thus discovered.

Among the Jews the covenant of salt is the most sacred possible. Even at the present time, Arabian princes are wont to signify their ratification of an alliance by sprinkling salt upon bread, meanwhile exclaiming, “I am the friend of thy friends, and the enemy of thine enemies.” So likewise there is a common form of request among the Arabs as follows: “For the sake of the bread and salt which are between us, do this or that.”[273]

In the East, at the present day, compacts between tribes are still confirmed by salt, and the most solemn pledges are ratified by this substance. During the Indian mutiny of 1857 a chief motive of self-restraint among the Sepoys was the fact that they had sworn by their salt to be loyal to the English queen.[274]

The antiquity of the practice of using salt in confirmation of an oath is shown in the following passage from an ode of the Greek lyric poet Archilochus, who flourished during the early part of the seventh century B. C.:—

In the year 1731 the Protestant miners and peasants inhabiting the “salt exchequer lands,” prior to their banishment from the country by Leopold, Archbishop of Salzburg, held a meeting in the picturesque village of Schwarzach, and “solemnly ratified their league by the ancient custom of dipping their fingers in salt.” The table at which this ceremony took place, and a picture representing the event, are still shown at the Wallner Inn, where the meeting was held.[275]

V. SALT-SPILLING AS AN OMEN

The widespread notion that the spilling of salt produces evil consequences is supposed to have originated in the tradition that Judas overturned a salt-cellar at the Paschal Supper, as portrayed in Leonardo da Vinci’s painting. But it appears more probable that the belief is due to the sacred character of salt in early times. Any one having the misfortune to spill salt was formerly supposed to incur the anger of all good spirits, and to be rendered susceptible to the malevolent influences of demons.[276] When, in oriental lands, salt was offered to guests as a token of hospitality, it was accounted a misfortune if any particles were scattered while being so presented, and in such cases a quarrel or dispute was anticipated.[277]

Bishop Hall wrote, in 1627, that when salt fell towards a superstitious guest at dinner, he was wont to exhibit signs of mental agitation, and refused to be comforted until one of the waiters had poured wine in his lap. And in Gayton’s “Art of Longevity” we find these lines:—

The Germans have a saying, “Whoever spills salt arouses enmity,” and in some places the overthrow of a salt-cellar is thought to be the direct act of the Devil, the peace-disturber. The superstitious Parisian, who may have been the unfortunate cause of such a mishap, is quite ready to adopt this view, and tosses a little of the spilled salt behind him, in order, if possible, to hit the invisible Devil in the eye, which, temporarily at least, prevents him from doing further mischief.[278] This is probably a relic of an ancient idolatrous custom; and salt thus thrown was formerly a kind of sop to Cerberus, an offering to pacify some particular deity. In like manner the natives of Pegu, a province of British Burmah, in the performance of one of their rites in honor of the Devil, are wont to throw food over their left shoulders to conciliate the chief spirit of evil.[279]

When salt was spilled at table the pious Roman was wont to exclaim, “May the gods avert the omen!” and the modern Sicilian, in such a case, invokes “the Mother of Light.”

Among the Greeks it was customary to present salt to the gods as a thank-offering at the beginning of every meal. Louis Figuier, in “Les merveilles de l’industrie,” places these three happenings in the category of ominous mishaps in a Grecian household: (1) the omission of a salt-cellar from among the furnishings of a dinner-table; (2) the falling asleep of one of the guests at a banquet, before the removal of the salt-cellar to make place for the dessert; (3) the overturning of this important vessel. It seems evident, therefore, that the origin of the belief in the ominous character of salt-spilling is of far greater antiquity than is popularly supposed; and Leonardo da Vinci, in portraying Judas as upsetting a salt-cellar, probably had in mind the already well-known portentous significance of such an act. But some observers have failed to discover any trace of a salt-cellar in the original Cenacolo on the refectory wall of the Milanese convent. In the well-known engraving by Raphael Morghen, however, the overthrown salt-cellar is clearly delineated, and the spilled salt is seen issuing from it. An animated discussion on this moot-point enlivened the columns of “Notes and Queries” some years ago.

The following passage is to be found in a work entitled “Hieroglyphica, a Joanne Valeriano” (1586), being a treatise on ancient symbols:—

Which has been rendered into English as follows: “Salt was formerly a symbol of friendship, because of its lasting quality. For it makes substances more compact and preserves them for a long time: hence it was usually presented to guests before other food, to signify the abiding strength of friendship. Wherefore many consider it ominous to spill salt on the table, and, on the other hand, propitious to spill wine, especially if unmixed with water.”[280]

In Gaule’s “Magastromancer” (1652), overturning the salt is mentioned in a list of “superstitious ominations.” According to a popular Norwegian belief, one will shed as many tears as may suffice to dissolve the quantity of salt which he has spilled;[281] and in east Yorkshire, also, every grain of spilled salt represents a tear to be shed. Moreover, saltness has been thought to be an essential attribute of tears, and this intimate connection between the two may have given rise to some of the many superstitions connected with salt.[282] In Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in order to avert ill-luck after salt has been spilled, one should not only toss a pinch of the spilled salt over the left shoulder, but should also crawl under a table and come out on the opposite side.[283]

In the “British Apollo” (1708) are these lines:—

In New England the gravity of salt-spilling as an omen, its deplorable severance of friendship’s ties, and the necessity for prompt remedial measures, are all fully recognized.

And here the deft toss of the spilled particles over the left shoulder is not always adequate; for in order thoroughly to break the spell, these particles must be thrown on the stove.[284]

Gypsies have a saying, “The salt of strife has fallen.”

From the idea of the desecration of a sacred substance, to which allusion has been made, doubtless arose the remarkable superstition that, as a penalty for spilling salt, one must wait outside the gate of Paradise for as many years as there are grains of salt spilled.[285]

In the Lansdowne MSS. 231 (British Museum) occurs this passage:—

Herbert Spencer affirms[286] that the consciousness which harbors a notion that evil will result from spilling salt is manifestly allied to the consciousness of the savage, and is prone to entertain other superstitious beliefs like those prevalent in barbarous lands. And although idolatry and fetich-worship do not flourish in civilized communities, yet many popular superstitions are akin in nature to the sentiments which prompt the savage to bow down before images of wood or stone.

VI. HELPING TO SALT AT TABLE

In the northern counties of England, and indeed quite generally in Anglican communities, it is reckoned unlucky to be helped to salt at table, and this idea has found expression in the popular couplet, “Help me to salt, help me to sorrow.” In a small volume entitled “The Rules of Civility” (London, 1695), translated from the French, and quoted in “Brand’s Popular Antiquities,” is the following passage:—

In Russia there is a superstitious prejudice against helping one’s neighbor to salt at table on account of the liability to quarrels thereby incurred. For in so doing one is thought to have the air of implying, “Well, you have received your allowance of salt, now go away.” But if in proffering the salt one smiles amicably, all danger of a quarrel is happily averted, and the act is wholly relieved of its ominous character.[287]

The simple expedient of a second help is commonly regarded as equally effective for this purpose, but it is difficult to imagine whence was derived the alleged potency of such an antidote, which is contrary to the Pythagorean theory of the divine character of unity and the diabolical attributes of the number two.

In many lands, however, it is only common courtesy to help a friend to salt at table; but in Italy this delicate attention was formerly thought to be a mark of undue familiarity, and, when salt was offered by one gentleman to the wife of another, it was a sufficient cause for jealousy and even quarrel.[288]

VII. SALT AS A PROTECTION TO YOUNG INFANTS

The mediÆval Roman Catholic custom of using salt to protect infants from evil prior to their baptism is frequently alluded to in early romantic literature. In an ancient ballad entitled “The King’s Daughter,” the birth of a child occurs under circumstances which prevent the administration of the rite of baptism. The mother, therefore, exposes the baby in a casket, and is careful to place by its side salt and candles. The words of the ballad are:—

Mr. William G. Black, in his work on Folk-Medicine, says that in some districts of Scotland it was formerly a custom, previous to baptism, to carry some salt around the child “withershins,” or backwards,—a procedure which was believed to protect the child from evil during its oftentimes long journey from the house to the church where the ceremony was to be performed. In Marsala the relatives of a new-born child do not sleep the first night, for fear of the appearance of witches. Indeed, a watch is often kept for many nights, or until the child’s baptism. A light burns in the room constantly, and an image of some saint is fastened upon the house-door. A rosary and a raveled napkin are attached to the image, and behind the door are placed a jug of salt and a broom. When a witch comes and sees the saint’s image and the rosary, she usually goes away at once; but even if these talismans are wanting, the salt, napkin, and broom afford adequate protection. For any witch before entering must count the grains of salt, the threads of the napkin’s fringe, and the twigs of which the broom is made. And she never has time enough for these tasks, because she cannot appear before midnight, and must hide herself before the dawn.[290]

This popular belief in the magical power of salt to protect infants from evil, especially in the period between birth and baptism, is exemplified in the following allusion to a foundling in a metrical “History of the Family of Stanley,” which dates from the early part of the sixteenth century (Harleian MSS. 541, British Museum): “It was uncrisned, seeming out of doubt, for salt was bound at its neck in a linen clout.”[291]

In Sicily, too, it is sometimes customary for the priest to place a little salt in the child’s mouth at baptism, thereby imparting wisdom. Hence the popular local saying in regard to a person who is dull of understanding, that the priest put but little salt in his mouth.[292] A similar usage is in vogue in the district of Campine in Belgium. The use of salt at baptism in the Christian Church dates from the fourth century. It was an early practice to place salt, which had been previously blessed, in the infant’s mouth, to symbolize the counteraction of the sinfulness of its nature.[293]

So, too, in the baptismal ceremonies of the Church of England in mediÆval times, salt, over which an exorcism had been said, was placed in the child’s mouth, and its ears and nostrils were touched with saliva,—practices which became obsolete at about the time of the reign of Henry VIII.

An octagonal font of the fifteenth century, in St. Margaret’s Church, Ipswich, Suffolk, has upon one of its sides the figure of an angel bearing a scroll, on which appears a partially illegible inscription containing the words Sal et Saliva.[294]

Thomas Ady, in “A Perfect Discovery of Witches” (London, 1661), says that holy water, properly conjured, was used to keep the Devil in awe, and to prevent his entering churches or dwellings.

With such holy water Satanic influences were kept away from meat and drink, and from “the very salt upon the table.”

In the Highlands of Scotland, instead of using salt as an amulet for the protection of young babies, it was customary for watchers to remain constantly by the cradle until the christening. For it was believed that spiteful fairies were wont to carry off healthy infants, leaving in their stead puny specimens of their own elfish offspring; and infants thus kidnapped were sometimes kept in fairyland for seven years. This well-known popular belief gave rise to the word “changeling,” which signifies a “strange, stupid, ugly child left by the fairies in place of a beautiful or charming child that they have stolen away.”[295] And inasmuch as baby elves were invariably stunted and of feeble intellect, all idiotic and dwarfish children were thought to be changelings.[296]

VIII. SALT AS A MAGICAL SUBSTANCE

The natives of Morocco regard salt as a talisman against evil, and a common amulet among the Neapolitan poor is a bit of rock-salt suspended from the neck.[298] The peasants of the Hartz Mountain region in Germany believe that three grains of salt in a milk-pot will keep witches away from the milk;[299] and to preserve butter from their uncanny influences, it was a custom in the county of Aberdeen, Scotland, some years ago, to put salt on the lid of a churn.[300] In Normandy, also, the peasants are wont to throw a little salt into a vessel containing milk, in order to protect the cow who gave the milk from the influences of witchcraft.

Peculiar notions about the magical properties of salt are common among American negroes. Thus in some regions a new tenant will not move into a furnished house until all objects therein have been thoroughly salted, with a view to the destruction of witch-germs.[301] Another example of the supernatural attributes ascribed to salt is the opinion current among uneducated people in some communities of its potency in casting a spell over obnoxious individuals. For this purpose it is sufficient either to sprinkle salt over the sleeping form of an enemy, or on the grave of one of his ancestors.[302] Another kind of salt-spell in vogue in the south of England consists in throwing a little salt into the fire on three successive Friday nights, while saying these words:—

On the third Friday night the disconsolate damsel expects her lover to appear.[303] Every one is familiar with the old saying, “You can catch a bird with your hand, if you first put some salt on its tail.” This quaint expression has been thought to imply that, if one can get near enough to a bird to place salt on its tail, its capture is an easy matter. The phrase, however, may be more properly attributed to a belief in the magical properties of salt in casting a spell over the bird. Otherwise any substance might be equally effective for the purpose of catching it. The writer remembers having read somewhere an old legend about a young man who playfully threw some salt on the back of a witch sitting next to him at table, and the witch thereupon acquired such an increase of avoirdupois that she was unable to move until the young man obligingly brushed away the salt.

The ancient Teutons believed that the swift flight of birds was caused by certain powerful spirits of the air. Now salt is a foe to ghostly might, imparts weight to bodies, and impedes their motion; therefore the rationale of its operation when placed upon a bird’s tail is easily intelligible.

In the Province of Quebec French Canadians sometimes scatter salt about the doors of their stables to prevent those mischievous little imps called lutins from entering and teasing the horses by sticking burrs in their manes and tails.[304] The lutin or gobelin is akin to the Scandinavian household spirit, who is fond of children and horses, and who whips and pinches the former when they are naughty, but caresses them when good.[305] In Marsala, west Sicily, a horse, mule, or donkey, on entering a new stall, is thought to be liable to molestation by fairies. As a precautionary measure, therefore, a little salt is placed on the animal’s back, and this is believed to insure freedom from lameness, or other evil resulting from fairy spite.[306] Common salt has long enjoyed a reputation as a means of procuring disenchantment. It was an ingredient of a salve “against nocturnal goblin visitors” used by the Saxons in England, and described in one of their ancient leech-books;[307] while in the annals of folk-medicine are to be found numerous references to its reputed virtues as a magical therapeutic agent. In Scotland, when a person is ailing of some affection whose nature is not apparent, as much salt as can be placed on a sixpence is dissolved in water, and the solution is then applied three times to the soles of the patient’s feet, to the palms of his hands, and to his forehead. He is then expected to taste the mixture, a portion of which is thrown over the fire while saying, “Lord, preserve us frae a’ skaith.”[308]

The Germans of Buffalo valley in central Pennsylvania believe that a boy may be cured of homesickness by placing salt in the hems of his trousers and making him look up the chimney.[309]

In India the natives rub salt and wine on the affected part of the body as a cure for scorpion bites, believing that the success of this treatment is due to the supernatural virtue of the salt in scaring away the fiends who caused the pain.[310] An ancient Irish charm of great repute in cases of suspected “fairy-stroke” consisted in placing on a table three equal portions of salt in three parallel rows. The would-be magician then encircles the salt with his arm and repeats the Lord’s Prayer thrice over each row. Then, taking the hand of the fairy-struck person, he says over it, “By the power of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, let this disease depart and the spell of evil spirits be broken.” Then follows a solemn adjuration and command addressed to the supposed demon, and the charm is complete.[311]

In Bavaria and the Ukraine, in order to ascertain whether a child has been the victim of bewitchment, the mother licks its forehead; and if her sense of taste reveals thereby a marked saline flavor, she is convinced that her child has been under the influence of an evil eye.[312]

In the Swiss canton of Bern a person is believed to be amply fortified against all kinds of spiritual enemies by the simple expedient of carrying a piece of fresh bread and a psalm-book in the right and left coat pockets respectively, provided one is careful to have some rock-salt either in each vest pocket, or inside a briar-wood cane upon which three crosses have been cut.[313] In Bohemia a mother seeks to protect her daughter from evil glances by placing a little bread and salt in her pocket; and when a young girl goes out for a walk the mother sprinkles salt on the ground behind her, so that she may not lose her way.[314]

Holy water has been employed in the religious ceremonies of many peoples as a means of purifying both persons and things, and also to keep away demons. Sprinkling and washing with it were important features of the Greek ritual.

The holy water of the Roman Catholic Church is prepared by exorcising and blessing salt and water separately, after which the salt is dissolved in the water and a benediction pronounced upon the mixture. In the Hawaiian ritual, sea-water was sometimes preferred.[315]

A Magyar house-mistress will not give any salt to a woman who may come to the door and ask for it in the early morning, believing that any such would-be borrower is surely a witch; but in order to keep away all witches and hags, she strews salt on the threshold. On St. Lucien’s Day neither salt nor fire must be taken out of the house.[316]

Among the Japanese, the mysterious preservative qualities of salt are the source of various superstitions. The mistress of a household will not buy it at night, and when purchased in the daytime a small quantity is thrown into the fire in order to prevent discord in the family, and to avert misfortune generally.[317]

In Scotland salt was formerly in high repute as a charm, and the salt-box was the first chattel to be removed to a new dwelling. When Robert Burns, in the year 1789, was about to occupy a new house at Ellisland, he was escorted on his route thither along the banks of the river Nith by a procession of relatives, and in their midst was borne a bowl of salt resting on the family Bible.[318]

In some places in the north of England the giving away of salt is a dangerous procedure; for if the salt thus given comes into the possession of an evil-wisher, it places the donor entirely in the power of such a person.[319]

In upper Egypt, previous to the setting out of a caravan, it is customary for the native women to throw salt on burning coals, which are carried in earthen vessels and set down before the different loads. While so doing they exclaim, “May you be blessed in going and coming,” and such incantations they believe render inert all the machinations of evil spirits.[320]

IX. MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS ON SALT

Among the peasants of the Spanish province of Andalusia the word “salt” is synonymous with gracefulness and charm of manner, and no more endearing or flattering language can be used in addressing a woman, whether wife or sweetheart, than to call her “the salt-box of my love.” The phrase “May you be well salted” is also current as an expression of affectionate regard.[321]

Scotch fishermen have a traditional custom of salting their nets “for luck,” and they also sometimes throw a little salt into the sea “to blind the fairies.”

In the Isle of Man the interchange of salt is regarded as indispensable to every business transaction, while Manx beggars have even been known to refuse an alms if proffered without it.[322]

In Syracuse, Sicily, salt has won distinction as a symbol of wisdom through a curious misinterpretation of the words sedes sapientiÆ of the so-called Lauretane litany; these words becoming in the mouths of the people sale e sapienza,[323] salt and wisdom.

Salt and bread, representing the necessaries of life, are the first articles taken into the dwelling of a newly married pair in Russia. And in Pomerania, at the close of a wedding breakfast, a servant carries about a plate containing salt, upon which the guests place presents of money.[324]

In olden times bread and salt were reckoned the simplest and most indispensable articles of diet, and were offered to guests as a guarantee of hospitality and friendliness. The universal reputation of salt as a symbol of good-will is shown in the proverbs and current sayings of many nations. Cicero, in his treatise on Friendship, wrote that age increased the value of friendships, even as it improved the quality of certain wines; and he added further that there was truth in the proverb, “Many pecks of salt must be eaten together to bring friendship to perfection.”

Inasmuch as salt is a necessary and wholesome article of diet, a generous use of it is reckoned beneficial. Evan Marlett Boddy, F. R. C. S., in his “History of Salt,” p. 78, comments with some asperity on the custom, prevalent at the tables of English gentlefolk, of placing salt in the tiniest receptacles, as if it were a most expensive substance. He regards it as anything but edifying “to see the host and his guests, in the most finical, grotesque manner, help themselves to the almost infinitesimal quantities of salt, as if it were a mark of good breeding and delicacy.” On the contrary, he continues, such stupid customs of “good society” are truly indicative of mental weakness and profound ignorance.

In a treatise on the “Dignity and Utility of Salt,” by Jean de Marcounille Percheron, Paris, 1584, this mineral is likened in value to the four elements recognized by the ancients,—earth, air, fire, and water; and indeed, on account of its importance for the maintenance of health in the animal economy, salt has been termed a “fifth element.” So highly did the Thracians of old prize this commodity that they bartered slaves in exchange for it, whence originated the phrase Sale emptum mancipium.

The Egyptian geographer, Cosmas, stated that a salt currency was in use in Africa in the sixth century;[325] and Marco Polo wrote that salt was a common medium of exchange among certain Asiatic peoples in the thirteenth century. In Tibet, for example, pieces of salt shaped in a mould, and weighing about half a pound each, served as small change; eighty such pieces were equal in value to a saggio of fine gold, corresponding to the Roman solidus, worth about three dollars. Salt was, moreover, used as money at this time in Yun-Nan and other provinces of southwestern China.[326]

Felix Dubois, in his “Timbuctoo the Mysterious,” p. 123, comments on the rarity of salt in the interior of the Soudan, and says that it is the most valuable commodity of that region, the true gold of the Soudanese. The bulk of the salt supply of Timbuctoo comes from the salt mines of Taudeny, which are situated in the great Sahara desert, some three hundred miles away to the north. Here the salt is found in abundance beneath a scanty layer of sand, and is dug up in lumps and fashioned into blocks. Small pieces of this rock-salt are useful to the traveler as money, and are readily accepted as such by the Soudanese merchants.

The camels of southern Mongolia require a certain amount of salt in order to remain in good condition. Instinctively, therefore, they browse upon the saline efflorescence which is found on the grassy plains or steppes of Asia. Baron Humboldt, in his “Aspects of Nature” (Berlin, 1808), wrote that these plains were covered with juicy, evergreen soda plants; and that many of them glistened from afar with flakes of exuded salt, which much resembled newly fallen snow. When camels do not find this efflorescence, they sometimes show their craving for its saline flavor by taking white stones in their mouths, supposing them to be lumps of salt.[327]

Owing to the universality of its use, salt has been termed the “cosmopolitan condiment.” The craving for this substance is not confined to man, but is shared by the lower animals, and its hygienic value for horses and cows is well known. Wild animals travel long distances over deserts and prairies, or through swamps and jungles, to reach “salt-licks.”

It may be that this natural craving for salt, which is common to man and beast, may have suggested a custom of etiquette in Abyssinia. For when a native of that country desires to pay an especially delicate attention to a friend or guest, he produces a piece of rock-salt, and graciously permits the latter to lick it with his tongue; a custom not a whit more ridiculous than the ceremonious offering of snuff and the social sneeze of modern civilization.

In certain portions of the Dark Continent salt is esteemed a great luxury, and is relished by native children quite as keenly as candy in more favored lands.

In the region of Accra, on the coast of Guinea, salt is said to rank next to gold in value; and according to Mungo Park, among the Mandingos and Bambarras, west African tribes, whose members are unusually intelligent, the phrase, “flavoring one’s food with salt,” implies the possession of wealth.[328]

The Namaquas, inhabitants of the Hottentot country, share so little the sentiments of their neighbors regarding salt that they consider it a superfluous article having no value whatever.

About the year 1830 there appeared in England a volume by a certain Doctor Howard, with the following curious title: “Salt, the forbidden fruit or food; and the chief cause of diseases of the body and mind of man and of animals, as taught by the ancient Egyptian priests and wise men and by scripture, in accordance with the author’s experience of many years.”[329]

As may well be imagined from its title, this book treats of salt as a most obnoxious substance, abstinence from which as an article of diet is essential to the maintenance of health.

The use of salt as an article of food was, moreover, thought to render one irascible and melancholic, and in illustration of this view may be quoted the following passage from “Euphues and his England,” by John Lyly, Maister of Arte (1580):—

In sooth, gentlemen, I seldome eate salte for feare of anger, and if you give me in token that I want wit, then will you make cholericke before I eate it; for women, be they never so foolish, would ever be thought wise.

I staied not long for mine answer, but as well quickened by her former talke as desirous to cry quittance for her present tongue, said thus: “If to eat store of salt, cause one to fret; and to have no salt, signifies lack of wit, then do you cause me to marvel, that eating no salt, you are so captious; and loving no salt, you are so wise, when indeed so much wit is sufficient for a woman, as when she is in the raine can warne her to come out of it.”[330]