8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



tion of tlie uncultivated. All along our Northern coasts and in our 

 Western mountains are to be found such figures — ^like the Stone-face, 

 at the White Mountains ; the Bishop Rock, at Campobello, on the Maine 

 coast ; and the Master of Life, at the entrance to Lake Superior. So 

 in the North and West of our country there are many erratic bowl- 

 ders, some oval, or glistening with native copper or mica scales, or 

 balanced on convex prominences so that they readily oscillate. In un- 

 enlightened but pious minds, such curious figures naturally inspire 

 veneration and worship as the abodes of spirits, as was the case with 

 the Ojibways, Ottawas, and Dakotas ; or they give rise to wild myths 

 of transformation, such as the Indian legends abound in. So, where 

 the rocky and mountainous aspect of nature produces cataracts or 

 dangerous rapids, and the waters roar and toss their white manes in 

 the air, these places — as, e. g., Niagara, the mouth of the Wabash, 

 or the Brear Beaux Falls on the Wisconsin — ^became to the savage 

 the haunt of spirits or demons, who must be propitiated with offer- 

 ings of tobacco and meat. 



And this mention of tobacco may serve to turn our thoughts to 

 remembrance of the influence of trees and plants in drawing forth 

 religious veneration. Wherever plants are found, like tobacco, or the 

 Peruvian coca, the snake-root, the Indian hemp, the wine of Bacchanal 

 worship, that had a special effect ; whether stimulating, narcotic, poi- 

 sonous, or curative, they were held to possess supernatural power, and 

 were used for various magic rites and became sacred. The soma of 

 the ancient Aryans even became exalted to a place among the gods, 

 and to drink it was the means of gaining immortality. So, likewise, 

 the mysterious whisperings of the wind in ancient forests, or the inex- 

 plicable movements of some half -blown-down tree, as the heat of the 

 sun contracted or lengthened its twisted roots, and caused it alter- 

 nately to rise and fall, have more than once attracted the superstitious 

 awe of the barbarian, and supplied new objects for his adoration. 



Thus do the peculiarities of natural objects supply molds in which 

 the metal of religious faith, already lying latent, readily sets. And 

 not only directly, but indirectly, do they shape the forms of faith. 

 The rushing river, e. g., not merely attracts the reverence of the primi- 

 tive man to itself, but by its swift and treacherous motion, its sinuous 

 course, and snake-like hiss and gleam, it is personified as a mighty di- 

 vine serpent, and next makes sacred by association the serpents of the 

 country about. The sky, personified by the ancient Egyptian as a 

 heavenly goose, enveloping and hatching the cosmic egg, made sacred 

 henceforth all geese to the pious dwellers by the Nile. In climes like 

 Egypt, where the skies are rainless and the whole aspect of nature 

 equable, almost unchanging, there the gods are marked by calmness of 

 bearing and serenity of nature. We must go to the slopes of the 

 Himalayas or the ridges of the Apennines to find the howling Rudra, 

 with his attendant Maruts, the pounders, rushing wildly through the 



