The Book of Saints and Heroes
Leonora Blanche Alleyne Lang, Andrew Lang
eBook
(MacMay, Jan. 7, 2011)
PREFACELONG, long ago, when the world was young and gay, grown-up people must have been much more like children than they are at present. The grown-ups were quite as fond of fairy tales as any child can be to-day; and they actually believed in fairies more than some wise and grave little boys and girls do at present. Why should they not believe in them, for they met them dancing in the open dells of the forests, and saw them, beautiful girl fairies, wading and swimming in the river pools. These fairies were as friendly as they were fair to see; and the fairy of the oak tree or the well would step out of it when a handsome shepherd or warrior passed; and the pair would fall in love with each other, and sometimes marry. Homer, the oldest of Greek poets, tells us, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, about a man who married a fairy, and how, as they were kind, friendly people, they built their house near a road and entertained all the passers-by. This sort of thing is still going on in the islands of the Pacific, or so the natives believe. A native of New Caledonia, a young man, the friend of a cousin of mine named Jim, came to see him once, and stayed long, and seemed nervous and cried when he was saying good-bye."What is the matter, old man?" asked Jim. "You seem to have something on your mind. Can I help you?""In three days I shall be a dead man," said the native."What put that nonsense into your head?""As I came here through the forest I met a fairy, who looked exactly like the girl I was to marry, and I kissed her.""And what for no?" asked Jim, who was a Scot by birth. "Any fellow would have done it. Is it what you call tabou to kiss your young woman?""No," said the poor fellow, "it is not tabou. But she was not Maluka, who will never be my wife. She was a fairy. She faded away as I kissed her, as a light morning cloud fades on the hillside. She was a fairy.""Well, suppose she was, what then?" asked Jim."I must die in three days; whoever kisses a fairy dies in three days. So goodbye, we shall not meet again."And they did not meet again. The lover died within the three days.Thus there are fairies, you see, in the far-away isles, and Louis Stevenson heard of them often, and men see them, and fall in love with them; so of course they believe in fairies, though they are grown up. Does not Mr. Lawson tell us in his book about Greece that he saw a fairy? (he calls her a nymph or a Nereid, for that is Greek for a fairy), and he is a learned man. I wish I had his luck; but, as Joan of Arc said to her judges, "I never saw a fairy, not that I knew to be a fairy." No, not even in Kensington Gardens. Still, they are seen in the Highlands, even now, and seeing is believing.Thus, long ago, grown-ups believed in fairies, as we all would do if we saw them. Why, when a young Greek in Homer's time met a pretty girl in the forest he always began by asking "Are you a fairy, or are you a goddess?" It was the regular thing to do. Consequently, these pleasant people of long ago mixed up fairies with their religion. The stories about the Greek gods and goddesses are merely fairy tales; some are pretty, and some are not at all nice.