myth is a piece of unscientific philosophizing, it must
sometimes be applied to the explanation of obscure
psychological as well as of physical phenomena. Where the
modern calmly taps his forehead and says, "Arrested
development," the terrified ancient made the sign of the cross
and cried, "Werewolf."

We shall be assisted in this explanation by turning aside for
a moment to examine the wild superstitions about
"changelings," which contributed, along with so many others,
to make the lives of our ancestors anxious and miserable.
These superstitions were for the most part attempts to explain
the phenomena of insanity, epilepsy, and other obscure nervous
diseases. A man who has hitherto enjoyed perfect health, and
whose actions have been consistent and rational, suddenly
loses all self-control and seems actuated by a will foreign to
himself. Modern science possesses the key to this phenomenon;
but in former times it was explicable only on the hypothesis
that a demon had entered the body of the lunatic, or else that
the fairies had stolen the real man and substituted for him a
diabolical phantom exactly like him in stature and features.
Hence the numerous legends of changelings, some of which are
very curious. In Irish folk-lore we find the story of one
Rickard, surnamed the Rake, from his worthless character. A
good-natured, idle fellow, he spent all his evenings in
dancing,--an accomplishment in which no one in the village
could rival him. One night, in the midst of a lively reel, he
fell down in a fit. "He's struck with a fairy-dart,"
exclaimed all the friends, and they carried him home and
nursed him; but his face grew so thin and his manner so morose