town, and presages a death in the family of the beholder—why is never explained. It is most likely something to do with his name, which is that of the symbol of the death-god.
The story of St. Joseph planting the staff which blossomed into the miraculous Thorn does not appear until fairly late in the Middle Ages, yet it can hardly be called "mediaeval" with any truth, for its elements are Celtic. It is not found in Wilham of Malmesbury, who relates, however, a somewhat similar legend concerning the local saint, Benignus, or Beneen, an Irish disciple of St. Patrick. This youth, seeking a hermitage, asked his master for instructions and was bidden by Patrick to travel till his staff took root and grew, and this happened on the outskirts of Glastonbury, where Benignus consequently remained until his death. We have in these two legends the completion of the collection of stories made by Mr. Cook and Professor Brown in their articles on Owain and on the Sky-god, although in these cases the stories are both mutilated and inverted. Joseph and Benignus plant trees instead of breaking branches; but in either case the tree grows from the staff of the saint, and these two authorities have pointed out that frequently the Broken Branch is symbolized as the staff or spear of the hero, henceforward associated with him always. Then, too, the hero who breaks the bough and challenges and defeats the Guardian, must rule in his place. Whatever may be the truth about the Glastonbury Legend, one cannot deny that both Joseph of Arimathea and Benignus of Ireland represent strangers challenging and conquering the local rulers and supplanting them in all the might of Christianity.
Avallach is, of course, the same as the Norse sea-god Amloði, who gave his name to Amroth in S. Wales. His country and apple-tree are, in the nature of things, submarine. This might be a valid objection to his home being localized at Glastonbury or anywhere else, however sure we may be that this place represents the "Avalon" of the Celts; but one or two things should be remembered. The vanished seas and swamps all round Glastonbury once made of what is now an inland valley a veritable island, probably none too easy of access. Various place-names in the neighbourhood, such as Godney, Athelney,