While, however, the ministers of the gods are thus differentiated from the people at large, they are not differentiated until a later stage from the ministers of the human body. Medicine and priestcraft are for a long time united arts. On this connection, Brinton very justly remarks, that "when sickness is looked upon as the effect of the anger of a god, or as the malicious infliction of a sorcerer, it is natural to seek help from those who assume to control the unseen world, and influence the fiats of the Almighty" (M. N. W., p. 264). Thus in America the native priests were called by the European colonists, "medicine men." The New Zealand priests were "expert jugglers," and when called in to the sick would ascribe some diseases to a piece of wood lodged in the stomach; this they pretended to extract, and produced it in evidence of their assertion. An acquaintance of the author from whom I borrow this fact, saw one of these doctors tear open the leg of a rheumatic patient, and (apparently) take out of it a knotted piece of wood (N. Z., p. 80). In the Fiji islands they occasionally use their medical powers malevolently, instead of benevolently. In Tanna, there was a class of men termed "disease-makers," and greatly dreaded by the people, who thought that these men could exercise the power of life and death, the calamity of death being the result of burning rubbish belonging to the sufferer. When a Tannese was ill, he believed that the disease-maker was burning his rubbish, and would send large presents to induce him to stop; for if it were all burned he would die (N. Y. p. 89-91). The Samoans believed disease to be the result of divine wrath, and sought its remedy at the hands of the high-priest of the village. Whatever he might demand was given; in some cases, however, he did not ask for anything, but merely commanded the family of the patient to "confess, and throw out." Confessing, and throwing out, consisted of a statement by each member of the family of the crimes he had committed, or of the evil he had invoked on the patient or his connections, accompanied by the ceremony of spurting out water from the mouth towards him (N. Y., p. 224). Like the Fijians, the natives of Australia employ priests to cure their illnesses. Their ecclesiastical practitioners "perform incantations over the sick," and also pretend to suck out the disease, producing a piece of bone which they assert to be its cause (S. L. A., p. 226). The Africans have an exactly similar belief in the influence of fetish over disease. Reade observes that epileptic attacks are (as is natural from their mysterious character) ascribed to demoniacal possession, and that fetish-men are called in to cure them. This they attempt to accomplish by elaborate dances and festivities, "at the expense of the next of kin," which sometimes end in driving the patient into the bush in a state of complete insanity. When cured, he "builds