though not very closely analogous. These considerations lead me to a suggestion which is not intended to supersede, but to accompany, the regular process of tabulation. That process, as we practise it, seems to me to do little but offer us a series of summaries. We have the bones of the tale, the skeleton—and a very dry skeleton it is—that is all. We might as well compare the stories with the life and blood in them. No harm could be done if some student would take two sets of stories—say, those of Dr. Callaway from the Zulus, and those of Asbiornsen and Möe, from the Norse. He might analyse each book apart, thus:
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Supernatural Incidents. | ||
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Dividing the latter into |
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Names of Kindred. |
All this is not free from cross divisions; far from it. But when the typical tales of Scandinavians, Swahilis, Zulus, Hindoos, Samoyeds, Finns, Eskimo, Celts, Samoans, Maoris, had been analysed thus, perhaps we should have a general idea of what is common to humanity in their narratives, and what is peculiar to different peoples and tribes. If I may guess, I think the universal elements would be far greater than the isolated features. And, though many will disagree with me, I think the barbaric would be out of all proportion to the civilised factors in the stories. Each analyser would, to the best of his ability, explain the chances and processes of borrowing, from European or native neighbours of higher or lower civilisation than the tellers of the tales. For example, if we find the story of Rhampsinitus and the Thief among modern Egyptians, we should have to decide, Is it traditional there, or can it
