’Mr. Lang, as usual, has recourse to savages, most useful when they are really wanted.  He quotes an illustration from the South Pacific that Tuna, the chief of the eels, fell in love with Ina and asked her to cut off his head.  When his head had been cut off and buried, two cocoanut trees sprang up from the brain of Tuna.  How is this, may I ask, to account for the story of Daphne?  Everybody knows that “stories of the growing of plants out of the scattered members of heroes may be found from ancient Egypt to the wigwams of the Algonquins,” but these stories seem hardly applicable to Daphne, whose members, as far as I know, were never either severed or scattered.’

I thought, perhaps hastily, that I must have made the story of Tuna ‘account for the story of Daphne.’  Mr. Max Muller does not actually say that I did so, but I understood him in that sense, and recognised my error.  But, some guardian genius warning me, I actually hunted up my own observations. {10a} Well, I had never said (as I conceived my critic to imply) that the story of Tuna ‘accounts for the story of Daphne.’  That was what I had not said.  I had observed, ’As to interchange of shape between men and women and plants, our information, so far as the lower races are concerned, is less copious’—­than in the case of stones.  I then spoke of plant totems of one kin with human beings, of plant-souls, {10b} of Indian and Egyptian plants animated by human souls, of a tree which became a young man and made love to a Yurucari girl, of metamorphosis into vegetables in Samoa, {10c} of an Ottawa myth in which a man became a plant of maize, and then of the story of Tuna. {10d} Next I mentioned plants said to have sprung from dismembered gods and heroes. All this, I said, all of it, proves that savages mythically regard human life as on a level with vegetable no less than with animal life.  ’Turning to the mythology of Greece, we see that the same rule holds good.  Metamorphosis into plants and flowers is extremely common,’ and I, of course, attributed the original idea of such metamorphoses to ’the general savage habit of “levelling up,"’ of regarding all things in nature as all capable of interchanging their identities.  I gave, as classical examples, Daphne, Myrrha, Hyacinth, Narcissus, and the sisters of Phaethon.  Next I criticised Mr. Max Muller’s theory of Daphne.  But I never hinted that the isolated Mangaian story of Tuna, or the stories of plants sprung from mangled men, ‘accounted,’ by themselves, ’for the story of Daphne.’

Mr. Max Muller is not content with giving a very elaborate and interesting account of how the story of Tuna arose (i. 5-7).  He keeps Tuna in hand, and, at the peroration of his vast work (ii. 831), warns us that, before we compare myths in unrelated languages, we need ’a very accurate knowledge of their dialects . . . to prevent accidents like that of Tuna mentioned in the beginning.’  What accident?