If advancing civilization results in an agreeable change of morality in many regards, it is yet accompanied with wretched traits in others. The whole silliness of superstition exceeds belief. Because Bh[=a]llabheya once broke his arm on changing the metre of certain formulae, it is evident to the priest that it is wrong to trifle with received metres, and hence "let no one do this hereafter." There is a compensation on reading such trash in the thought that all this superstition has kept for us a carefully preserved text, but that is an accident of priestly foolishness, and the priest can be credited only with the folly. Why is 'horse-grass' used in the sacrifice? Because the sacrifice once ran away and "became a horse." Again one is thankful for the historical side-light on the horse-sacrifice; but the witlessness of the unconscious historian can but bring him into contempt.[49] Charms that are said against one are of course cast out by other charms. If one is not prosperous with one name he takes another. If the cart creaks at the sacrifice it is the voice of evil spirits; and a formula must avert the omen. _Soma_-husks are liable to turn into snakes; a formula must avert this catastrophe. Everything done at the sacrifice is godly; _ergo_, everything human is to be done in an inhuman manner, and, since in human practice one cuts his left finger-nails first and combs the left side of the beard first, at the sacrifice he must cut nails and beard first on the other side, for "whatever is human at a sacrifice is useless" (_vy[r.]ddhain v[=a]i tad yajñasya yad m[=a]nu[s.]am_). Of religious puns we have given instances already. Agni says: "prop me on the propper for that is proper" (_hita_), etc, etc.[50] One of these examples of depraved superstition is of a more dangerous nature. The effect of the sacrifice is covert as well as overt. The word is as potent as the act. Consequently if the sacrificer during the sacrifice merely mutter the words "let such an one die," he must die; for the sacrifice is holy, godly; the words are divine, and cannot be frustrated (_Çat. Br_. iii. 1. 4. 1; iv. 1. 1. 26). All this superstition would be pardonable if it were primitive. But that it comes long after the Vedic poets have sung reveals a continuance of stupidity which is marvellous. Doubtless those same poets were just as superstitious, but one would think that with all the great literature behind them, and the thoughts of the philosophers just rising among them, these later priests might show a higher level of intelligence. But in this regard they are to India what were the monks of mediaeval times to Europe.