[130] Perhaps for a reason like that which made the beetle a symbol of the soul or immortality among the Egyptians, namely, because the mouse hibernates like the sleeping earth. It is worth noticing that Anubis, the Egyptian psychopomp, is also a wind-god.—A. K.
[131] The appearance of children in the story need not, however, necessarily mean that the mortality had specially affected the children. It may only have been an expression like the Latin manes—the little ones—used for the souls of the departed. We know how constantly in mediæval art the soul is represented as drawn out of the body in the form of a child.
[132] There are at least six different versions of the same legend given in Grimm’s Deutsche Sagen.
[133] This myth is related by Procopius (B. G., iv.). There is little doubt that this island, which he calls Brittia (and of course distinguishes from Britannia), is really identical with it. The wall which he speaks of as dividing it is proof sufficient.
[134] To the house of Yama.
[135] See above, p. 251.
[136] See above, p. 231.
[137] The fortune which accompanies a myth is very curious. That of Freyr and Gerda is by no means conspicuous in the Edda, and I should not have been justified in comparing it in importance with the Persephone myth, but that precisely the same story forms a leading feature in the great Norse and Teuton epic, the Volsung and Nibelung songs.
[138] It is interesting to note that one of the proofs that the Greek alphabet is derived from the Phœnician is precisely similar to the proof that the Sanskrit Dyâus or duhitar are earlier forms than Zeus or daughter. Because in Greek alphabet means only alpha (α) beta (β), but in Phœnician alpha or aleph and beta or beth have distinct meanings—‘ox’ and ‘house’—the objects supposed to be symbolized by the first two Phœnician letters. See above.
[139] Or Khita.