but fancy it might have been the Cyclopædia of English Literature. To any one disposed to swell the list of the remunerations of authors, I would suggest that Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature, Boswell's Life of Johnson, Johnson's Lives of the Poets and other works of every-day handling, would no doubt furnish many facts; but all my books being in the country, I have no means of searching, and therefore send my Notes in the fragmentary state in which I find them:—
I perfectly agree with the suggestion of one of your correspondents, that, in a publication like yours, dealing with historic facts, the communications should not be anonymous, or made under noms de guerre. I therefore drop the initials with which I have signed previous communications, and append my name as suggested.
COINCIDENT LEGENDS
In the Scandinavian portion of the Fairy Mythology, there is a legend of a farmer cheating a Troll in an argument respecting the crops that were to be grown on the hill within which the latter resided. It is there observed that Rabelais tells the same story of a farmer and the Devil. I think there can be no doubt that these are not independent fictions, but that the legend is a transmitted one, the Scandinavian being the original, brought with them perhaps by the Normans. But what are we to say to the actual fact of the same legend being found in the valleys of Afghánistán?
Masson, in his Narrative, &c. (iii. 297.), when speaking of the Tájiks of Lúghmân, says,—
"They have the following amusing story: In times of yore, ere the natives were acquainted with the arts of husbandry, the Shaitán, or Devil, appeared amongst them, and, winning their confidence, recommended them to sow their lands. They consented, it being farther agreed that the Devil was to be a sherík, or partner, with them. The lands were accordingly sown with turnips, carrots, beet, onions, and such vegetables whose value consists in the roots. When the crops were mature the Shaitán appeared, and generously asked the assembled agriculturists if they would receive for their share what was above ground or what was below. Admiring the vivid green hue of the tops, they unanimously replied that they would accept what was above ground. They were directed to remove their portion, when the Devil and his attendants dug up the roots and carried them away. The next year he again came and entered into partnership. The lands were now sown with wheat and other grains, whose value lies in their seed-spikes. In due time, as the crops had ripened, he convened the husbandmen, putting the same question to them as he did the preceding year. Resolved not to be deceived as before, they chose for their share what was below ground; on which the Devil immediately set to work and collected the harvest, leaving them to dig up the worthless roots. Having experienced that they were not a match for the Devil, they grew weary of his friendship; and it fortunately turned out that, on departing with his wheat, he took the road from Lúghmân to Báríkâb, which is proverbially intricate, and where he lost his road, and has never been heard of or seen since."
Surely here is simple coincidence, for there could scarcely ever have been any communication between such distant regions in remote times, and the legend has hardly been carried to Afghánistán by Europeans. There is, as will be observed, a difference in the character of the legends. In the Oriental one it is the Devil who outwits the peasants. This perhaps arises from the higher character of the Shaitán (the ancient Akriman) than that of the Troll or the mediæval Devil.
SHAKSPEARE READINGS, NO. VIII
I have to announce the detection of an important misprint, which completely restores sense, point, and antithesis to a sorely tormented passage in King Lear; and which proves at the same time that the corrector of Mr. Collier's folio, in this instance at least, is undeniably in error. Here, as elsewhere (whether by anticipation or imitation I shall not take upon me to decide), he has fallen into just the same mistake as the rest of the commentators: indeed it is startling to observe how regularly he suspects every passage that they have suspected, and how invariably he treats them in the same spirit of emendation (some places of course excepted, where his courage soars far beyond theirs; such as the memorable "curds and cream," "on a table of green frieze," &c.).
I say that the error of "the old corrector," in this instance, is undeniable, because the misprint I am about to expose, like the egg-problem of Columbus, when once shown, demonstrates itself: so that any attempt to support it by argument would be absurd, because superfluous.
There are two verbs, one in every-day use, the other obsolete, which, although of nearly opposite significations, and of very dissimilar sound, nevertheless differ only in the mutual exchange of place in two letters: these verbs are secure and recuse; the first implying assurance, the second want of assurance, or refusal. Hence any sentence would receive an opposite meaning from one of these verbs to what it would from the other.
Let us now refer to the opening scene of the Fourth Act of King Lear, where the old man offers his services to Gloster, who has been deprived of his eyes:
"Old Man. You cannot see your way.
Gloster. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities."
Here one would suppose that the obvious opposition between means and defects would have preserved these words from being tampered with; and that, on the other hand, the absence of opposition between secure and commodious would have directed attention to the real error. But, no: all the worretting has been about means; and this unfortunate word has been twisted in all manner of ways, until finally "the old corrector" informs us that "the printer read wants 'means,' and hence the blunder!"
Now, mark the perfect antithesis the passage receives from the change of secure into recuse:
"Full oft 'tis seen
Our means recuse us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities."
I trust I may be left in the quiet possession of whatever merit is due to this restoration. Some other of my humble auxilia have, before now, been coolly appropriated, with the most innocent air possible, without the slightest acknowledgment. One instance is afforded in Mr. Keightley's communication to "N. & Q.," Vol. vii., p. 136., where that gentleman not only repeats the explanation I had previously given of the same passage, but even does me the honour of requoting the same line of Shakspeare with which I had supported it.
I did not think it worth noticing at the time, nor should I now, were it not that Mr. Keightley's confidence in the negligence or want of recollection in your readers seems not have been wholly misplaced, if we may judge from Mr. Arrowsmith's admiring foot-note in last Number of "N. & Q.," p. 568.
Leeds.
SHAKESPEARE'S USE OF THE IDIOM "NO HAD" AND "NO HATH NOT."
We are under great obligations to the Rev. Mr. Arrowsmith for his very interesting illustration of several misunderstood archaisms; and it may not be unacceptable to him if I call his attention to what seems to me a farther illustration of the above singular idiom, from Shakspeare himself.
In As You Like It, Act I. Sc. 3., where Rosalind has been banished by the Duke her uncle, we have the following dialogue between Celia and her cousin:
"Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go?
Wilt
