Accordingly it seems not improbable that the Celtic bisection of the year into two halves at the beginning of May and the beginning of November dates from a time when the Celts were mainly a pastoral people， dependent for their subsistence on their herds， and when accordingly the great epochs of the year for them were the days on which the cattle went forth from the homestead in early summer and returned to it again in early winter. Even in Central Europe， remote from the region now occupied by the Celts， a similar bisection of the year may be clearly traced in the great popularity， on the one hand， of May Day and its Eve (Walpurgis Night)， and， on the other hand， of the Feast of All Souls at the beginning of November， which under a thin Christian cloak conceals an ancient pagan festival of the dead. Hence we may conjecture that everywhere throughout Europe the celestial division of the year according to the solstices was preceded by what we may call a terrestrial division of the year according to the beginning of summer and the beginning of winter.
Be that as it may， the two great Celtic festivals of May Day and the first of November or， to be more accurate， the Eves of these two days， closely resemble each other in the manner of their celebration and in the superstitions associated with them， and alike， by the antique character impressed upon both， betray a remote and purely pagan origin. The festival of May Day or Beltane， as the Celts called it， which ushered in summer， has already been described； it remains to give some account of the corresponding festival of Hallowe'en， which announced the arrival of winter.
Of the two feasts Hallowe'en was perhaps of old the more important， since the Celts would seem to have dated the beginning of the year from it rather than from Beltane. In the Isle of Man， one of the fortresses in which the Celtic language and lore longest held out against the siege of the Saxon invaders， the first of November， Old Style， has been regarded as New Year's day down to recent times. Thus Manx mummers used to go round on Hallowe'en (Old Style)， singing， in the Manx language， a sort of Hogmanay song which began To-night is New Year's Night， Hogunnaa！ In ancient Ireland， a new fire used to be kindled every year on Hallowe'en or the Eve of Samhain， and from this sacred flame all the fires in Ireland were rekindled. Such a custom points strongly to Samhain or All Saints' Day (the first of November) as New Year's Day； since the annual kindling of a new fire takes place most naturally at the beginning of the year， in order that the blessed influence of the fresh fire may last throughout the whole period of twelve months. Another confirmation of the view that the Celts dated their year from the first of November is furnished by the manifold modes of divination which were commonly resorted to by Celtic peoples on Hallowe'en for the purpose of ascertaining their destiny， especially their fortune in the coming year； for when could these devices for prying into the future be more reasonably put in practice than at the beginning of the year？ As a season of omens and auguries Hallowe'en seems to have far surpassed Beltane in the imagination of the Celts； from which we may with some probability infer that they reckoned their year from Hallowe'en rather than Beltane. Another circumstance of great moment which points to the same conclusion is the association of the dead with Hallowe'en. Not only among the Celts but throughout Europe， Hallowe'en， the night which marks the transition from autumn to winter， seems to have been of old the time of year when the souls of the departed were supposed to revisit their old homes in order to warm themselves by the fire and to comfort themselves with the good cheer provided for them in the kitchen or the parlour by their affectionate kinsfolk. It was， perhaps， a natural thought that the approach of winter should drive the poor shivering hungry ghosts from the bare fields and the leafless woodlands to the shelter of the cottage with its familiar fireside. Did not the lowing kine then troop back from the summer pastures in the forests and on the hills to be fed and cared for in the stalls， while the bleak winds whistled among the swaying boughs and the snow-drifts deepened in the hollows？ and could the good-man and the good-wife deny to the spirits of their dead the welcome which they gave to the cows？
But it is not only the souls of the departed who are supposed to be hovering unseen on the day when autumn to winter resigns the pale year.
Witches then speed on their errands of mischief， some sweeping through the air on besoms， others galloping along the roads on tabby-cats， which for that evening are turned into coal-black steeds. The fairies， too， are all let loose， and hobgoblins of every sort roam freely about.
Yet while a glamour of mystery and awe has always clung to Hallowe'en in the minds of the Celtic peasantry， the popular celebration of the festival has been， at least in modern times， by no means of a prevailing gloomy cast； on the contrary it has been attended by picturesque features and merry pastimes， which rendered it the gayest night of all the year. Amongst the things which in the Highlands of Scotland contributed to invest the festival with a romantic beauty were the bonfires which used to blaze at frequent intervals on the heights. On the last day of autumn children gathered ferns， tar-barrels， the long thin stalks called gàinisg， and everything suitable for a bonfire.
