's Magazine, for leave to
republish 'The Early History of the Family,' 'The Divining Rod,' and
'Star Myths,' and 'The Kalevala.' A few sentences in 'The Bull-Roarer,'
and 'Hottentot Mythology,' appeared in essays in the Saturday Review, and
some lines of 'The Method of Folklore' in the Guardian. To the editors
of those journals also I owe thanks for their courteous permission to
make this use of my old articles.

To Mr. E. B. Tylor and Mr. W. R. S. Ralston I must express my gratitude
for the kindness with which they have always helped me in all
difficulties.

I must apologise for the controversial matter in the volume. Controversy
is always a thing to be avoided, but, in this particular case, when a
system opposed to the prevalent method has to be advocated, controversy
is unavoidable. My respect for the learning of my distinguished
adversaries is none the less great because I am not convinced by their
logic, and because my doubts are excited by their differences.

Perhaps, it should be added, that these essays are, so to speak, only
flint-flakes from a neolithic workshop. This little book merely
skirmishes (to change the metaphor) in front of a much more methodical
attempt to vindicate the anthropological interpretation of myths. But
lack of leisure and other causes make it probable that my 'Key to All
Mythologies' will go the way of Mr. Casaubon's treatise.

THE METHOD OF FOLKLORE.

After the heavy rain of a thunderstorm has washed the soil, it sometimes
happens that a child, or a rustic, finds a wedge-shaped piece of metal or
a few triangular flints in a field or near a road. There was no such
piece of metal, there were no such flints, lying there yesterday, and the
finder is puzzled about the origin of the objects on which he has
lighted. He carries them home, and the village wisdom determines that
the wedge-shaped piece of metal is a 'thunderbolt,' or that the bits of
flint are 'elf-shots,' the heads of fairy arrows. Such things are still
treasured in remote nooks of England, and the 'thunderbolt' is applied to
cure certain maladies by its touch.

As for the fairy arrows, we know that even in ancient Etruria they were
looked on as magical, for we sometimes see their points set, as amulets,
in the gold of Etruscan necklaces. In Perugia the arrowheads are still
sold as charms. All educated people, of course, have long been aware
that the metal wedge is a celt, or ancient bronze axe-head, and