Armenian Legends and Festivals Part 4

On the bank of the Araxes, in the plain of Armenia, and in full view of Ararat are located the monastery of Khor-Virap and the chapel of St. Gregory close beside it. An Armenian inscription is cut in the walls of the portico of the monastery which marks the spot where a monk, Johannes by name, appeared twice after his death saying that he had seen Gregory the Illuminator. The chapel of St. Gregory covers the traditional well into which he was thrown and imprisoned for thirteen years by King Tiridates. Dubois descended into a sort of tunnel, fifteen or sixteen feet below the pavement of the chapel, which is part of an old fortress, and was shown the worn stones of a niche where the saint prayed, as evidence of the thirteen years, quite as though other pilgrims who knelt in the same place could not have a.s.sisted somewhat the pious work of the saint. [104] The spot is only a few steps from the famous temple dedicated to the princ.i.p.al G.o.d of the Armenians, Aramazd, and it seems clear that the pagan king intended to make a sacrifice to his G.o.ds in casting the young fanatic into the well. The temple was called Achelichad, meaning "many sacrifices" because of the many offerings here given up to Aramazd. With the era of Christianity, the name Achelichad gave way to the name Khor Virap, meaning dry well. Gregorius Magistros, already mentioned, brought the body of the saint from Constantinople and placed it in the bottom of the well, where it served to cure sick pilgrims.

There is a tradition that the Armenian city of Erzerum, not far from the source of the Euphrates, marks the vicinity of the Garden of Eden. The Persian king Khosref Purveez is said to have encamped in the neighborhood and to have received a message from the prophet Mohammed during his sojourn, in which he was offered the protection of Islam if he would embrace the faith. But the king spurned the proposal and tossed the letter into the Euphrates. Nature, horrified at the sacrilege, dried up the flowers and fruits of the ancient garden and even parched up the sources of the river itself. And so the last relic of Eden became waste. [105]

In the same connection, there is a plaintive Armenian elegy, composed in the person of Adam, who, sitting at the gate of paradise and beholding cherubim and seraphim enter the garden, makes the following defence: he did not eat the forbidden fruit until after he had witnessed its fatal effects upon Eve, when, seeing her despoiled of all her glory, he was touched with pity and tasted the immortal fruit in the hope that the Creator, contemplating both in the same plight might with paternal love take compa.s.sion on them. But in vain. "The Lord cursed the serpent and Eve," pathetically cries Adam, "and I was enslaved between them." The elegy closes most touchingly,--"When ye enter Eden, shut not the gate of paradise, but place me standing at the gate. I will look in a moment and then bring me back. Ah! I remember ye, O flowers and sweet smelling fountains. Ah! I remember ye, O birds, sweet singing, And ye, O beasts." [106]

CHAPTER V

INTERPRETATION AND CONCLUSIONS

Because these legends are for the most part based upon older legends, and also because some of them are known only locally, they can not be said to have played so important a role in Armenian social life as the first two groups of legends. It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that all of the Ararat legends have merely a local value. Ararat is the center of the nation, the grand geographical feature of the country, and many of the beliefs cl.u.s.tered about it are held in common. In fact there is a very old belief which considers the sacred mountain to be the center of the world, and to-day it is the common point of meeting of the boundaries of Russian, Turkish, and Persian Armenia. And this is no accident; it is because of the veneration in which the mountain is held, and consequently, the realization of the importance the mountain gives to any territory in which it may be located. The belief that Ararat is the mountain of the Ark, the legend of Noah's vineyard, and the legend of St. Jacob are very commonly accepted. The primeval willow, the church of Arghuri, the legend, or perhaps one should say, the superst.i.tion of the tetagush, and the legend of the wise men in search of the star of the East, enjoy a more restricted circulation. Furthermore, it is natural to suppose that the legends centered in the destroyed city of Arghuri have not been told as frequently as of old, and are therefore dying out gradually, although they seem still to be very much alive. A legend or tradition that is objectified in an old willow, in a monastery, or in a garden, is likely to die out gradually with the destruction of its object. But some of them will never die out, object or no object, as for example the legend of the devout monk who tried to gain the summit of Ararat in order to see the holy Ark. There is something in his waking up each successive morning only to find himself at the same point he had started from the preceding day, which will keep its hold, whether there be a monastery erected in his name or not. And if the vineyard has been destroyed the people may very soon find another. In fact I should be surprised if in traveling through the mountain region of Ararat, I was not shown the legendary vineyard. This, however, would more likely be true of a legend that had a commercial value to the community because of the frequency of travelers, which could certainly not be said of Ararat legends. The same general valuation may be placed upon the Erzerum legends. A legend of this sort is not believed to be true, unless the legend upon which it is based is commonly believed in, and it is certainly safe to suppose that a majority of the Armenian people accept the Old Testament legends. This is important, for when a legend is not a matter of implicit belief by a people it has little social value. The elegy of Adam can not be properly said to be a legend at all.

The preceding pages point out certain points of resemblance, and certain points of difference between the two words, legend and tradition, which require to be brought out at this point, first, because of vague and loose current usage, and second, in order to establish my own use of these terms. In the first place they are beliefs, and here lies the secret of their social value. Let them be disbelieved in and they may furnish material for entertaining after-dinner conversation, but they no more have the power of welding a people together into a nation, a caste, or a sect; they no longer have the power of creating a common sentiment among a large number of people or of creating a national consciousness.

And in the second place, both the tradition and the legend are pa.s.sed on from person to person, and from generation to generation. When a tradition is defined as a belief that is handed down orally from father to son, it is not at all differentiated from the legend which is also a belief, and which may also be pa.s.sed on orally from generation to generation. Neither does a legend or a tradition change its character when the meaning is represented by symbols cut in rock, inscribed on papyrus, or written on paper. The event of inscription is very often a part of their history.

But when it comes to a question of historic value we mark the parting of the ways. A tradition, used in the sense with which we are concerned here, is always rooted in an indisputable historic fact. Consider the traditions of Islam that are centered about the prophet Mohammed. They may have a thousand variations, may have embodied falsehood after falsehood in the course of their transmission from place to place, and from generation to generation, as most of them unquestionably have, but they are traditions, nevertheless, because they are a.s.sociated with a character who is an undisputed historic figure. The refusal of St. Gregory to offer garlands to the G.o.ddess Anahit, and his imprisonment in the well during a period of thirteen years is a tradition because the belief is a.s.sociated with a historic character. Compare this with the beliefs concerning Haic, Vahakn, Semiramis and Ara, and the distinction is clear, for these characters are all mythical. Artasches and Artavasd are generally recognized as historical kings, and are so spoken of by Moses. As such the beliefs concerning them should be cla.s.sed as traditions. However, Moses as a historian has been relegated to a secondary position by Carriere, who gave the work a critical examination. This would make the beliefs concerning Artasches and Satenik and Artavasd purely legendary, unless further research establishes more reliable sources of which we do not know. The first group therefore are legends.

In regard to the second group of beliefs all having to do with the introduction of Christianity, Bartholomew, Thaddeus, Gregory, and Tiridates are unquestionably historic; Rhipsime and Gaiane are mythical; the historic authenticity of Abgar is also questionable. We should therefore speak of the legends of Rhipsime, Gaiane and Abgar, and of the traditions of Bartholomew, Thaddeus, Gregory, and Tiridates.

The Ararat and Erzerum group are of course legends with one or two exceptions. The belief concerning the scorning of the proposal of Mohammed by the Persian king who was encamped on the Euphrates as explaining the barrenness of the Garden of Eden certainly has to do with an historic figure, and perhaps two. But it is a legend, nevertheless, because both the prophet of Arabia and the Persian king are accidental rather than fundamental to the belief. The fundamental basis of belief is the legend of the Garden of Eden. The elegy of Adam in explanation of his sinful conduct is neither legend nor tradition, and the belief concerning the tetagush and the spring of Ararat is a superst.i.tion. It results in a distinct type of conduct marking it off from both tradition and legend.

I have stated my conclusions at various places, and it would be pointless repet.i.tion to summarize them all. I shall therefore sum up only the important ones. The first is that the legends and traditions of Part One are an important part of a larger body of Armenian legends, traditions, folk-songs, and folk-lore, and that their social value lies in the power they have of creating a national sentiment. This national sentiment is the direct result of a social process accomplished through the medium of the traditions, legends, and folk-songs spoken of. An a.n.a.lysis of the national sentiment of ancient Armenia would lead us to the conclusion that it was made up of at least three elements: first, a sentiment of loyalty to the state; secondly, a sentiment of reverence amounting almost to worship for the past glory of the nation; and thirdly, a sentiment of love for the country.

The last sentiment is an especially real experience to all Armenians. Objectified as it was at first in the vast plains, the broad river valleys, the mountain ranges, or simply in the soil that brought forth its vegetation, it came to be objectified in a spirit of independence and in the ideals of freedom and strength. These two objects of the national sentiment of love, the one material, the other immaterial, are not, however, to be dissociated in the social mind, as I have dissociated them on paper. They are inseparable, the material and the spiritual, and simply do not exist apart from each other. Only the emphasis varies, symbolized in one case by the peasant's kissing his native soil, and in the other by the far-away look toward the summit of some distant mountain. And when this sentiment of love is the most important of those sentiments that go to make up a national sentiment, that is, when it dominates all the others, holding them in subjection, there has come to be a national self. A continuous stream of consciousness envelopes the national self, and inasmuch as it implies a highly-organized and well-developed national self, national-self-consciousness is the larger term. It may be objectified and examined especially at a time of injustice from without, and even at the time of an obvious act of injustice by the state which usually results in civil strife. The latter case is ill.u.s.trative of how one of the sentiments that make up the national sentiment may be under the domination of another, the sentiment of loyalty to the state being subordinate to the sentiment of love for the country in this case.

That the national self is organic, i.e., that it is functional, a vital, living thing which grows and dies is clearly brought out by the second group of legends considered. This is the second general conclusion. The legends and traditions mentioned in this group are of course again part of a larger body, all of which have to do with the introduction of Christianity into the country. The important point is that from this larger body of beliefs there resulted a new national sentiment, new because something had come to be incorporated within it which was not there before. This something was a sentiment of loyalty to the church, evidenced in the readiness to uphold and protect the church with all its recognized enc.u.mbrances of hierarchies and paraphernalia against all foreign intrusion, whether peaceful or military in character. With the destruction of the state, this sentiment of loyalty to the church largely absorbed the sentiment of loyalty to the state. Reverence for the past glory of the nation went on unchanged except in so far as the church intensified it as a means of intensifying the whole national sentiment.

A loosely organized, heterogeneous group of people can not boast of a national sentiment, nor of the united action necessary in times of national crisis, as when a people go to war. This united action is only possible where the diverse sentiments of a more or less heterogeneous people have been woven into a national sentiment of the kind spoken of. This weaving process, as I have shown, is essentially a social process, and the materials by means of which it is carried on are largely such as I have been describing, namely, the legends, traditions, and folk-lore that have somehow grown up among a people.

PART TWO

FESTIVALS

CHAPTER I

THE GREGORIAN CHURCH

As the materials of Part One are part of a larger ma.s.s of legends, traditions, and folk-lore, the social value of which lies in their power of creating a national or group sentiment, so the festivals and ceremonies to be taken up in Part Two are part of a larger ma.s.s of festivals, ceremonies, and rites whose social value lies in the fact that they const.i.tute a necessary vehicle of expression for this same national sentiment. The festivals are a necessary counterpart of the legends, as the latter are a necessary counterpart of the former. Activity is one of the most fundamental of nature's laws. The sentiment of love for an individual dies eventually in the absence of some formal mode of active expression. But be the action ever so little a thing, such as the laying of flowers upon the grave of the dead, the visiting of a shrine, or the sight of some hallowed spot of sacred memory, the sentiment is kept alive. To be sure a sentiment may smoulder for a lifetime, even as a national sentiment may slumber for centuries without a mode of expression, and then all of a sudden burst forth into a flame, or awaken into life at a mere suggestion from outside. Bereft of statehood, the sentiment of loyalty for the state has slumbered for centuries within the breast of the Armenian people, but how often, how too sadly often, has it not suddenly awakened into hot, new life only to be pacified into slumber again. But the last glow, the little flicker at the end is all that separates the living embers from the dead ash.

How the Armenian church recognized the truth of this by putting into operation a thousand various modes of action in which the new national sentiment that it created has kept itself alive and fresh, may well serve as an object lesson to many another church. She did not make the mistake of imposing an entirely new body of festivals and ceremonies upon the people; she utilized the past and carried over a number of pagan festivals absolutely intact, which she clothed with a new meaning slowly recognized by the people. These form the first group to be considered. In the course of time she created certain new festivals which const.i.tute the second group. And then she identified herself with all of the ceremonies of common life, such as betrothal, marriage, and funeral ceremonies.

In this way the Armenian church has become absolutely and inseparably identified with the life of the people, and the people in turn have been held together into a nation which has continued to give its artists and artisans to the world. [107] What is Armenia? The national Gregorian church; much as Louis XIV, when asked "What is the state?" replied, "I am the state." This is unquestionably an exaggerated view, but not as much so as might be supposed, since the social life of the people is so completely bound up with the church. The only betrothal and marriage recognized is that sanctioned by the church. Whenever there is a common danger, as has been the case repeatedly during the past twenty years, the people flock to the church for protection. Such secret revolutionary propaganda as has been carried on has been done largely through the church. The young Armenian who returns from his academic life in Paris, a sceptic if not an unbeliever, and certainly opposed to the dogma and ultra-conservatism of his church, does not alienate himself, for he realizes his utter impotence in any kind of work for his people should he do so. In spite of the division of Armenia into three slices, Turkish, Persian, and Russian, the church has retained its hold, and if the position of the people as subject to Turkey, Persia, and Russia has placed her (the church) at a decided disadvantage in coping with the ever constant influence and propaganda, schools, and missionaries of the Greek, Latin, and Protestant churches, she has not at all given in, for the number of Catholic Armenians amounts to only 3 per cent of the number of orthodox Armenians, while the number of Protestant Armenians is only 1 per cent. [108] Considering, as I say, the utter helplessness of the church in combating outside influences, these figures indicate how closely the life of the people is identified with her. Perhaps her very helplessness has been a source of strength.

These facts together with such little practices as I have mentioned (and I might also note the custom of the Armenian peasant of crossing himself daily at the altar of his community church before beginning his day of toil) [109] are sufficient to show that the church has been the chief means of keeping alive the currents of national life, that it is a national church, and that it has identified itself with the common life of the people. The festivals and ceremonies which const.i.tute the second part of my paper thus form the vehicle of expression of the national sentiment, and are all connected with the church.

The partic.i.p.ation of the laity in church matters, especially in the election of its officials, is a chief reason for the essential oneness of church and people. Priests, bishops, and patriarchs, who const.i.tute the three chief grades in the religious hierarchy, are chosen by the people. [110] The approval of higher authorities is necessary in most cases, but this only slightly detracts from the importance of the role of the people. A married priest is the religious head of every parish, and he is elected either by a direct process of voting or by a deed of presentation. The religious council of the diocese proceeds to examine the ability and qualifications of the candidate, who is ordained if his examination proves successful; if unsuccessful, a new candidate must be presented, for a bishop can not of his own initiative ordain a priest. The laity have no voice in the election of the celibate priesthood, which is only natural since the celibate priests are not in any way connected with the life of the community. Furthermore, they do not const.i.tute a very important element, for when Ormanian wrote in 1911, there were only 400 celibate priests as against 4,000 married priests. [111]

The married priest is very closely identified with his community. He not only makes a regular practice of visiting the various households of the parish, but he is sole confessor of the people. [112] As he officiates at ma.s.ses and church ceremonies and promotes a general partic.i.p.ation in the festivals, so also no betrothal, marriage, baptism, or funeral can be sanctioned without his presence. He is as well a kind of marriage agency, employment agency, and relief agency, acting always of course in cooperation with the council of elders of his parish. A priest called at the home of an Armenian lady I know, and remarked casually that he was aware she had a daughter, whom he was very anxious to see, for there were two young men of the community who were very desirous to marry. So the people inform the priest of their need and the priest does all in his power to help them. He does not receive a regular compensation, being absolutely dependent upon the voluntary offerings of his flock and the voluntary fees received for official services rendered. [113] This works out sometimes to his advantage, but more often not, depending generally on whether his parish is poverty stricken or well-to-do.

There are several very curious usages practiced by the married priest. He is recruited from all cla.s.ses of society, but more often there is a succession from father to son. [114] The conditions demanded, besides parochial election, are acquaintance with ecclesiastical and liturgical matters, an exemplary life, and the consent of his wife. After his ordination he must fast for forty days. He then prepares himself for his first ma.s.s by a life of retreat in the church, restricting himself to a vegetable diet for twenty-four hours. [115] The wife, who enjoys a certain precedence in society, observes a customary abstinence in the absence of her husband. One week or at least three days before the celebration of the ma.s.s, he keeps away from home, pa.s.sing the nights within the church. He may engage in domestic or even professional work so long as this does not interfere with the duties of his calling. Should his wife die, he may not marry again unless he lays aside his priestly robe, nor may a priest ever marry a widow. These practices are not dead letters, except that the custom of sojourning within the church for three nights before ma.s.s has, in Constantinople at least, been reduced to a single night.

The bishops are chosen as chiefs of dioceses by the council of the diocese, six sevenths of whose members are laymen, the remainder being ecclesiastics. [116] The patriarchs, including the Katholikos, the supreme authority of the church whose seat is at Etchmiadzin, the religious center of the nation, are chosen by an electoral a.s.sembly of the religious heads (bishops or archbishops) and lay deputies who are nominated by the dioceses as a whole. [117] The eight members of the synod, which is an advisory body to the Katholikos, and the seven oldest members of the congregation at Etchmiadzin have equal share in voting. The electoral a.s.sembly, so const.i.tuted, chooses two candidates, one of whom is selected by the Czar. The Czar, after his selection is made, sends a deputy to meet the successful candidate, who is decorated and escorted with due ceremony to Etchmiadzin where he is officially ordained. There are only two patriarchates besides the see of Etchmiadzin, i.e., those of Constantinople and Jerusalem. The corresponding patriarchs are likewise chosen by a national a.s.sembly, six sevenths of whose members belong to the laity. The patriarchs of both Jerusalem and of Constantinople acknowledge the supremacy of the Katholikos of Etchmiadzin, who is thus head of the church, though not infallible.

The site of Etchmiadzin is the old capital city, Vagharshapat, the ruins of which are all but washed away; and it marks the spot where St. Gregory in his vision saw the descent of Jesus Christ. Etchmiadzin means, "Descent of the Only Begotten." The particular spot is commemorated by the central altar of the Cathedral, which is the chief church of the nation. This Cathedral is situated in the center of a huge court bounded in the form of a large rectangle by the cells of the monks, the long refectory building, the library, the theological seminary, and the residence of the Katholikos. Outside this rectangle are ranged buildings and open s.p.a.ces, including the garden of the Katholikos, the court for pilgrims, the printing establishment, and dwellings for various uses, all of which is bounded by a huge wall in the form of a still larger rectangle about 1,000 feet in length and 700 feet in width. [118] The chapels of the martyrs are some distance from the monastery, the church of St. Gaiane, commemorating the spot of her martyrdom, being about one fourth of a mile distant, while the church of St. Rhipsime, which likewise honors the spot of Rhipsime's martyrdom, is about three fourths of a mile distant. The buildings now standing can hardly be those built by the saint. [119]

Etchmiadzin has been for many years a place of pilgrimage for the faithful. There is not only the sacred Cathedral where Jesus Christ is believed to have appeared; there is also the chamber of holy relics in the rear of the Cathedral which is perhaps the chief attraction and glory of the place. The most important of the relics here kept is a hand of St. Gregory, or rather right arm, "atch," as it is called, now preserved in a silver case, and which was considered at one time to be a necessary appanage of the patriarchal dignity. The poor hand of the saint has been the cause of many peregrinations in consequence. [120] One patriarch seized it and carried it off with him in order to justify his claims. Another restole it and brought it back to Etchmiadzin, while others have pretended possession of the holy "atch," in order to make good their claims. It was with this relic as well as with the holy chrism that consecrations were performed, which made possession of it a necessary condition of the patriarchal authority. Another much revered relic is the fragment of the ark, which the angel who appeared to St. Jacob gave to him as a reward for his perseverance in attempting so impossible a task as the climbing of Ararat. Still another is the head of the "holy spear" which was thrust into the side of Christ by the Roman soldier at Golgotha. [121]

There are others of lesser importance, some of which are believed to possess the power of effecting cures.

Such in brief are the broader and more important facts relating to the church, which has thus come to sanction the festivals and ceremonies that make up the second part of this thesis. These, as I have said, naturally divide themselves into three groups, first those that have been taken over bodily from the past; second, new festivals and ceremonies created by the church; and third the ceremonies of common life with which the church has identified itself. In the first group are included the midsummer festival of Vartavar, the spring festival, the festival in commemoration of the dead, Fortune-Telling Day, and the festival of Vartan's Day. All except the last have their origin in pagan festivals; each one has been taken over by the church and made its own.

CHAPTER II

PAGAN FOLK FESTIVALS

SECTION 1. VARTAVAR AND THE FESTIVAL OF MIHR

Vartavar, meaning "flaming of the rose," was celebrated in pagan times in honor of Anahit, G.o.ddess of chast.i.ty, at midsummer. The central act of the festival was the offering of a dove and a rose to her golden image. With the introduction of Christianity the temple and the image were destroyed, and it may be noted that upon the site of the Temple of Anahit in Vagharshapat was built the Cathedral of Etchmiadzin. This would lead to the strange conclusion that in the vision of St. Gregory, Jesus Christ descended upon a pagan temple. The fact seems to be that this marvelous vision was seen by a pious monk who published a life of St. Gregory some two or three centuries after the Illuminator's death. [122] But the festival became the "Festival of the Transfiguration of Christ," although the name Vartavar still remains, and doves are still set flying. [123]

The festival is celebrated differently in various places. Upon the mountains of Armenia every family brings a sheep for sacrifice, adorned with colored papers and pigments, and as the sheep approach the shrine, lighted candles are fixed upon their horns. [124] Sheaves of grain, fruit, flowers, and doves are also brought as sacrifices, while dust from beside the altar is carried home to children as a talisman to help them to learn their A B C's. In the absence of a church on the mountainside, which is usually the case, a large white tent with crosses is put up beside some sacred spring, with which the country abounds. The spring is necessary, for on this day the people amuse themselves by throwing water upon each other. For this reason the day is often called Armenian Water Day. After the doves are set flying, the priest sprinkles the people, and they in turn sprinkle water over each other. This practice probably dates to the legend of the deluge, the Universal Baptism with which G.o.d cleansed His sinful earth. The dove and the baptism are also suggestive of the baptism of Jesus by John in the waters of Jordan. This part of the festival is probably an addition to the pagan rite, for the sprinkling of the water is symbolic of love and forgiveness; it is carried on with much laughing and merry-making. The festival includes also a kind of fair, for the people have to show what progress they have made during the year in art and the various handicrafts. Races, compet.i.tions, and games are held, and the victors are crowned with wreaths of roses, so that even the rose continues to have an important place in the festivities as it had in pagan days. The sprinkling of water, the games, the races, show how happy a time the people must have on this day; the exhibition of the year's accomplishment in handicraft and art points out the more serious side; while the essential religious symbolism is very clearly emphasized. What may also be noted is that there is entertainment for all, old and young, serious and frivolous. The pious-minded may sit on the mountainside contemplating the religious aspect of it all; the gay and light-hearted may sprinkle water over each other; the young and strong may run races and play games; men and women of a practical turn of mind may visit the fair and note the progress made during the year; and children may roll about on the mountainsides or gather roses, for these are in full bloom at this time.

The pagan spring festival in honor of Mihr, the G.o.d of fire, was taken over by the church to commemorate the bringing of the Babe Jesus to the temple, where Mary sacrificed two doves according to the custom of purification. [125] The ancient rite consisted of kindling fires in the open market places in honor of the G.o.d Mihr, and of lighting a lantern from one of the newly kindled fires, which was kept burning in the temple throughout the year. As now celebrated, on February 26, every young man who has been married within the year brings a load of aromatic shrubs, making a huge pile of them in the yard of the church. A religious service is held in the open air at evening-time, after which the priest sets fire to the pile. All the villagers, men, women, and children, dance about the fire, while boys and young men show their agility and courage by leaping over it. When the flames die down, each person carries home a glowing brand and places it on the hearthstone for good luck.

The description of the festival by Abeghian shows how a general celebration of this kind varies in particulars from place to place. [126] On the afternoon of the 13th of February, [127] which is the day before the church festival of the purification, a pile of wood consisting usually of thorn-wood, cane, and straw is gathered together in the churchyard. The entire community comes together in the church on the night of the same day, each person provided with a candle. After the vespers all stand about the pile of shrub and wood, the newly married during the year making the first row. The candles are lighted from the church light, and after the priest has blessed the pile, it is set ablaze from all sides, after which the candles are put out. As soon as the fire has died down, the candles are relighted from the glowing embers which are regarded as sacred, and carried home where they are used to light a pile of shrub and wood that has been gathered on the roof of the house. The young people jump over the fire while the young women and married women march around it saying, "May it not itch me, and may I not receive any scabs,"