A religious hierarchy seems to have grown up during the Neolithic period headed by the goddess-mother of life. Her rise seems to have accompanied the introduction of agriculture, which must have brought great changes in religious ritual and belief. Dæmons who had heretofore held a high place in the fear or affection of hunting tribes gradually lost their supremacy or were neglected.

The dethronement of gods or dæmons was usually not sudden or revolutionary. The new mode of life and its accompanying cult gained ground slowly. Probably it was at first an extension or modification of some older one. The dethroned divinity long retained his hold on the fears or affections of many of the tribe. Finally he was remembered only by certain old wives in remote or isolated settlements. With the rest of the people he, or she, was fast becoming an imp, kobold, or fairy—the subject of fascinating stories, still tinged with mystery, joy, or fear, but not to be taken too seriously.

Here, apparently, is one, by no means the only, source of folk-lore and fairy-tale. Folk-lore is an exceedingly wide field and our path leads through only a little corner of it. It was the growth of millennia. It preserves for us remnants of ancient beliefs and practices, whose original meaning had been forgotten long before the birth of the story-teller. Fossil beliefs of the most widely separated ages may be found jumbled together in the same story.

It was always intended to be told to a group of sympathetic listeners or to the whole community. It is genuine literature, but when reduced to writing or cold print it chills and dies. The story-teller must feel at once the sympathy or coldness of his listeners. The substance may remain unchanged, but the shading and emphasis must vary with the feeling and temper of the audience. Thus in a very true sense it was moulded by the people. If a story survived with certain forms and content, it was because it was essentially common and human, appealing to that which is not individual but at least tribal or racial.

Says Mr. Chesterton: “Our modern novels, which deal with men as they are, are chiefly produced by a small and educated section of the society. But this other literature (the kind now called folk-lore, the literature of the people) deals with men greater than they are—with demigods and heroes—and that is far too important a matter to be trusted to the educated classes. The fashioning of these portents is a popular trade, like ploughing or bricklaying; the men who made bridges, the men who made ditches, were the men who made deities. Men could not elect their kings, but they could elect their gods. So we find ourselves faced with a fundamental contrast between what is called fiction and what is called folk-lore. The one exhibits an abnormal degree of dexterity, operating within our daily limitations; the other exhibits quite normal desires extended beyond those limitations. Fiction means the common things as seen by the uncommon people. Fairy-tales mean the uncommon things as seen by the common people.

“As our world advances through history toward its present epoch, its becomes more specialist, less democratic, and folk-lore turns gradually into fiction. But it is only slowly that the old elfin fire fades into the light of common realism. For ages after our characters have dressed up in the clothes of mortals they betray the blood of the gods.”[182]

The charm and wisdom of folk-lore and fairy-tale are mostly due to the commonness, in the best sense, of their subject, thought, and feeling. They suit all times and places, and are immortal and timeless like their heroes. When we attempt to reclothe them in modern form or language to suit “private interpretation” their strength is departed from them.

Neolithic feeling, belief, ritual, religion; its music, art, and literature; its customs, institutions, morals, ways, and life—all these sprang from the life and experience of the tribe or community. They were essentially growths in and from the mass of the people, usually owing comparatively little to the genius of any individual inventor or discoverer. We have called them Neolithic, but some or many of them were old far back in Paleolithic time. Like the tree Ygdrasil their roots lay hold on the foundations of the world.

So deeply rooted a growth or culture is almost ineradicable, though it has a marvellous adaptability and possibilities of growth and modification. It could never have been destroyed by its own Indo-European children, however rebellious. It must survive somewhere though probably changed for the better. We have found reasons to doubt whether Roman capacity for discipline and government, Roman laws and institutions, were predominantly of Indo-European origin. We were still more doubtful whether the glory of Teutonic or Scandinavian history is due to its being Indo-European, or whether it was the result of a continuous, unbroken development from Neolithic times. If ever any culture seems largely native and indigenous, responsive to outside influences but always retaining its independent self-determination and power of selection and choice as to what and how far it will assimilate, that culture is to be found in northern Germany and Scandinavia.

We have seen the fate of Olympian religion and Achæan thought in Greece. The Achæans were a small minority completely outnumbered by an exceedingly conservative native population. They were absorbed and became a part of the Greek people, and their contribution must not be underestimated. We have noted the marvellous vitality of the old Neolithic thought, its re-emergence, its influence on Greek philosophy. We remember that the great seat of progress was not in Dorian Sparta but in “Pelasgic Athens,” almost unknown to Homer.