the ordinary door of the living, but by a breach made specially in the wall, in order that they might thus pass through a species of purgatory.  We find an exceedingly interesting example of this primitive superstition in the punishment that was imposed upon the survivor in the famous combat between the Horatii and Curiatii, when he murdered his sister, on account of her unpatriotic devotion to her slain lover.  The father of Horatius, after making a piacular sacrifice, erected a beam across the street leading from the Vicus Cyprius to the Carinae, with an altar on each side—­the one dedicated to Juno Sororia and the other to Janus Curiatius—­and under this yoke he made his son pass with his head veiled.  This beam long survived under the name of Tigillum Sororium or Sister’s Beam, and was constantly repaired at the public expense.

In modern times there are two most remarkable survivals of the same kind.  One of them is in the corridor of the mosque of Aksa at Jerusalem.  In this place are two pillars, standing close together, and like those in the mosque of Omar at Cairo, they are used as a test of character.  It is said that whosoever can squeeze himself between them is certain of paradise, and must be a good Moslem.  The pillars have been worn thin by the friction of countless devotees.  An iron bar has now, however, been placed between the pillars by the present enlightened Pasha of Jerusalem to prevent the practice in future.  The other instance is what is popularly known as “threading the needle” in the Cathedral of Ripon.  Beneath the central tower of this minster there is a small crypt or vaulted cell entered from the nave by a narrow passage.  At the north side of this crypt there is an opening thirteen inches by eighteen, called St. Wilfred’s needle.  This passage was formerly used as a test of character; for only an honest man, one new-born, could pass through it.  “They pricked their credits who could not thread the needle,” was the quaint remark of old Fuller in reference to the original use of the opening.  It may be remarked that the well-known boys’ game of “Through the needle’s e’e, boys,” had its origin in all likelihood in the old superstition.  Thus we can trace the use made of the Bocca della Verita in Rome to the primitive idolatry associated perhaps with the Temple of Ceres that formerly stood on the spot.

Some other superstitious practices of a closely allied nature may be traced to the same source.  In the Orkney Islands, not far from the famous Standing Stones of Stennis, there is a single monolith with a large hole through it, which has become celebrated, owing to the allusion to it of Sir Walter Scott in his novel of the Pirate.  It is called Odin’s Stone; and till a very recent period it was the local custom to take an oath by joining hands through the hole in it; and this oath was considered even by the regular courts of Orkney as peculiarly solemn and binding; the person who violated it being accounted