{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4925/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4925","id":"gutenberg_4925","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4925","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Mythology"],"text":"Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\nBULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY\n\nTHE AGE OF FABLE\n\nTHE AGE OF CHIVALRY\n\nLEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\nBY THOMAS BULFINCH\n\nCOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME\n\n\n[Editor's Note: The etext contains only THE AGE OF FABLE]\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHERS' PREFACE\n\n\nNo new edition of Bulfinch's classic work can be considered\ncomplete without some notice of the American scholar to whose wide\nerudition and painstaking care it stands as a perpetual monument.\n\"The Age of Fable\" has come to be ranked with older books like\n\"Pilgrim's Progress,\" \"Gulliver's Travels,\" \"The Arabian Nights,\"\n\"Robinson Crusoe,\" and five or six other productions of world-wide\nrenown as a work with which every one must claim some acquaintance\nbefore his education can be called really complete. Many readers\nof the present edition will probably recall coming in contact with\nthe work as children, and, it may be added, will no doubt discover\nfrom a fresh perusal the source of numerous bits of knowledge that\nhave remained stored in their minds since those early years. Yet\nto the majority of this great circle of readers and students the\nname Bulfinch in itself has no significance.\n\nThomas Bulfinch was a native of Boston, Mass., where he was born\nin 1796. His boyhood was spent in that city, and he prepared for\ncollege in the Boston schools. He finished his scholastic training\nat Harvard College, and after taking his degree was for a period a\nteacher in his home city. For a long time later in life he was\nemployed as an accountant in the Boston Merchants' Bank. His\nleisure time he used for further pursuit of the classical studies\nwhich he had begun at Harvard, and his chief pleasure in life lay\nin writing out the results of his reading, in simple, condensed\nform for young or busy readers. The plan he followed in this work,\nto give it the greatest possible usefulness, is set forth in the\nAuthor's Preface.\n\n\"Age of Fable,\" First Edition, 1855; \"The Age of Chivalry,\" 1858;\n\"The Boy Inventor,\" 1860; \"Legends of Charlemagne, or Romance of\nthe Middle Ages,\" 1863; \"Poetry of the Age of Fable,\" 1863;\n\"Oregon and Eldorado, or Romance of the Rivers,\"1860.\n\nIn this complete edition of his mythological and legendary lore\n\"The Age of Fable,\" \"The Age of Chivalry,\" and \"Legends of\nCharlemagne\" are included. Scrupulous care has been taken to\nfollow the original text of Bulfinch, but attention should be\ncalled to some additional sections which have been inserted to add\nto the rounded completeness of the work, and which the publishers\nbelieve would meet with the sanction of the author himself, as in\nno way intruding upon his original plan but simply carrying it out\nin more complete detail. The section on Northern Mythology has\nbeen enlarged by a retelling of the epic of the \"Nibelungen Lied,\"\ntogether with a summary of Wagner's version of the legend in his\nseries of music-dramas. Under the head of \"Hero Myths of the\nBritish Race\" have been included outlines of the stories of\nBeowulf, Cuchulain, Hereward the Wake, and Robin Hood. Of the\nverse extracts which occur throughout the text, thirty or more\nhave been added from literature which has appeared since\nBulfinch's time, extracts that he would have been likely to quote\nhad he personally supervised the new edition.\n\nFinally, the index has been thoroughly overhauled and, indeed,\nremade. All the proper names in the work have been entered, with\nreferences to the pages where they occur, and a concise\nexplanation or definition of each has been given. Thus what was a\nmere list of names in the original has been enlarged into a small\nclassical and mythological dictionary, which it is hoped will\nprove valuable for reference purposes not necessarily connected\nwith \"The Age of Fable.\"\n\nAcknowledgments are due the writings of Dr. Oliver Huckel for\ninformation on the point of Wagner's rendering of the Nibelungen\nlegend, and M. I. Ebbutt's authoritative volume on \"Hero Myths and\nLegends of the British Race,\" from which much of the information\nconcerning the British heroes has been obtained\n\n\n\n\n\nAUTHOR'S PREFACE\n\n\nIf no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which\nhelps to enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in\nsociety, then Mythology has no claim to the appellation. But if\nthat which tends to make us happier and better can be called\nuseful, then we claim that epithet for our subject. For Mythology\nis the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best\nallies of virtue and promoters of happiness.\n\nWithout a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of\nour own language cannot be understood and appreciated. When Byron\ncalls Rome \"the Niobe of nations,\" or says of Venice, \"She looks a\nSea-Cybele fresh from ocean,\" he calls up to the mind of one\nfamiliar with our subject, illustrations more vivid and striking\nthan the pencil could furnish, but which are lost to the reader\nignorant of mythology. Milton abounds in similar allusions. The\nshort poem \"Comus\" contains more than thirty such, and the ode \"On\nthe Morning of the Nativity\" half as many. Through \"Paradise Lost\"\nthey are scattered profusely. This is one reason why we often hear\npersons by no means illiterate say that they cannot enjoy Milton.\nBut were these persons to add to their more solid acquirements the\neasy learning of this little volume, much of the poetry of Milton\nwhich has appeared to them \"harsh and crabbed\" would be found\n\"musical as is Apollo's lute.\" Our citations, taken from more than\ntwenty-five poets, from Spenser to Longfellow, will show how\ngeneral has been the practice of borrowing illustrations from\nmythology.\n\nThe prose writers also avail themselves of the same source of\nelegant and suggestive illustration. One can hardly take up a\nnumber of the \"Edinburgh\" or \"Quarterly Review\" without meeting\nwith instances. In Macaulay's article on Milton there are twenty\nsuch.\n\nBut how is mythology to be taught to one who does not learn it\nthrough the medium of the languages of Greece and Rome? To devote\nstudy to a species of learning which relates wholly to false\nmarvels and obsolete faiths is not to be expected of the general\nreader in a practical age like this. The time even of the young is\nclaimed by so many sciences of facts and things that little can be\nspared for set treatises on a science of mere fancy.\n\nBut may not the requisite knowledge of the subject be acquired by\nreading the ancient poets in translations? We reply, the field is\ntoo extensive for a preparatory course; and these very\ntranslations require some previous knowledge of the subject to\nmake them intelligible. Let any one who doubts it read the first\npage of the \"Aeneid,\" and see what he can make of \"the hatred of\nJuno,\" the \"decree of the Parcae,\" the \"judgment of Paris,\" and\nthe \"honors of Ganymede,\" without this knowledge.\n\nShall we be told that answers to such queries may be found in\nnotes, or by a reference to the Classical Dictionary? We reply,\nthe interruption of one's reading by either process is so annoying\nthat most readers prefer to let an allusion pass unapprehended\nrather than submit to it. Moreover, such sources give us only the\ndry facts without any of the charm of the original narrative; and\nwhat is a poetical myth when stripped of its poetry? The story of\nCeyx and Halcyone, which fills a chapter in our book, occupies but\neight lines in the best (Smith's) Classical Dictionary; and so of\nothers.\n\nOur work is an attempt to solve this problem, by telling the\nstories of mythology in such a manner as to make them a source of\namusement. We have endeavored to tell them correctly, according to\nthe ancient authorities, so that when the reader finds them\nreferred to he may not be at a loss to recognize the reference.\nThus we hope to teach mythology not as a study, but as a\nrelaxation from study; to give our work the charm of a story-book,\nyet by means of it to impart a knowledge of an important branch of\neducation. The index at the end will adapt it to the purposes of\nreference, and make it a Classical Dictionary for the parlor.\n\nMost of the classical legends in \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" are\nderived from Ovid and Virgil. They are not literally translated,\nfor, in the author's opinion, poetry translated into literal prose\nis very unattractive reading. Neither are they in verse, as well\nfor other reasons as from a conviction that to translate\nfaithfully under all the embarrassments of rhyme and measure is\nimpossible. The attempt has been made to tell the stories in\nprose, preserving so much of the poetry as resides in the thoughts\nand is separable from the language itself, and omitting those\namplifications which are not suited to the altered form.\n\nThe Northern mythological stories are copied with some abridgment\nfrom Mallet's \"Northern Antiquities.\" These chapters, with those\non Oriental and Egyptian mythology, seemed necessary to complete\nthe subject, though it is believed these topics have not usually\nbeen presented in the same volume with the classical fables.\n\nThe poetical citations so freely introduced are expected to answer\nseveral valuable purposes. They will tend to fix in memory the\nleading fact of each story, they will help to the attainment of a\ncorrect pronunciation of the proper names, and they will enrich\nthe memory with many gems of poetry, some of them such as are most\nfrequently quoted or alluded to in reading and conversation.\n\nHaving chosen mythology as connected with literature for our\nprovince, we have endeavored to omit nothing which the reader of\nelegant literature is likely to find occasion for. Such stories\nand parts of stories as are offensive to pure taste and good\nmorals are not given. But such stories are not often referred to,\nand if they occasionally should be, the English reader need feel\nno mortification in confessing his ignorance of them.\n\nOur work is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for\nthe philosopher, but for the reader of English literature, of\neither sex, who wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently\nmade by public speakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and\nthose which occur in polite conversation.\n\nIn the \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" the compiler has endeavored to\nimpart the pleasures of classical learning to the English reader,\nby presenting the stories of Pagan mythology in a form adapted to\nmodern taste. In \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and \"The\nMabinogeon\" the attempt has been made to treat in the same way the\nstories of the second \"age of fable,\" the age which witnessed the\ndawn of the several states of Modern Europe.\n\nIt is believed that this presentation of a literature which held\nunrivalled sway over the imaginations of our ancestors, for many\ncenturies, will not be without benefit to the reader, in addition\nto the amusement it may afford. The tales, though not to be\ntrusted for their facts, are worthy of all credit as pictures of\nmanners; and it is beginning to be held that the manners and modes\nof thinking of an age are a more important part of its history\nthan the conflicts of its peoples, generally leading to no result.\nBesides this, the literature of romance is a treasure-house of\npoetical material, to which modern poets frequently resort. The\nItalian poets, Dante and Ariosto, the English, Spenser, Scott, and\nTennyson, and our own Longfellow and Lowell, are examples of this.\n\nThese legends are so connected with each other, so consistently\nadapted to a group of characters strongly individualized in\nArthur, Launcelot, and their compeers, and so lighted up by the\nfires of imagination and invention, that they seem as well adapted\nto the poet's purpose as the legends of the Greek and Roman\nmythology. And if every well-educated young person is expected to\nknow the story of the Golden Fleece, why is the quest of the\nSangreal less worthy of his acquaintance? Or if an allusion to the\nshield of Achilles ought not to pass unapprehended, why should one\nto Excalibar, the famous sword of Arthur?--\n\n    \"Of Arthur, who, to upper light restored,\n     With that terrific sword,\n     Which yet he brandishes for future war,\n     Shall lift his country's fame above the polar star.\"\n\n[Footnote: Wordsworth]\n\nIt is an additional recommendation of our subject, that it tends\nto cherish in our minds the idea of the source from which we\nsprung. We are entitled to our full share in the glories and\nrecollections of the land of our forefathers, down to the time of\ncolonization thence. The associations which spring from this\nsource must be fruitful of good influences; among which not the\nleast valuable is the increased enjoyment which such associations\nafford to the American traveller when he visits England, and sets\nhis foot upon any of her renowned localities.\n\nThe legends of Charlemagne and his peers are necessary to complete\nthe subject.\n\nIn an age when intellectual darkness enveloped Western Europe, a\nconstellation of brilliant writers arose in Italy. Of these, Pulci\n(born in 1432), Boiardo (1434), and Ariosto (1474) took for their\nsubjects the romantic fables which had for many ages been\ntransmitted in the lays of bards and the legends of monkish\nchroniclers. These fables they arranged in order, adorned with the\nembellishments of fancy, amplified from their own invention, and\nstamped with immortality. It may safely be asserted that as long\nas civilization shall endure these productions will retain their\nplace among the most cherished creations of human genius.\n\nIn \"Stories of Gods and Heroes,\" \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and\n\"The Mabinogeon\" the aim has been to supply to the modern reader\nsuch knowledge of the fables of classical and mediaeval literature\nas is needed to render intelligible the allusions which occur in\nreading and conversation. The \"Legends of Charlemagne\" is intended\nto carry out the same design. Like the earlier portions of the\nwork, it aspires to a higher character than that of a piece of\nmere amusement. It claims to be useful, in acquainting its readers\nwith the subjects of the productions of the great poets of Italy.\nSome knowledge of these is expected of every well-educated young\nperson.\n\nIn reading these romances, we cannot fail to observe how the\nprimitive inventions have been used, again and again, by\nsuccessive generations of fabulists. The Siren of Ulysses is the\nprototype of the Siren of Orlando, and the character of Circe\nreappears in Alcina. The fountains of Love and Hatred may be\ntraced to the story of Cupid and Psyche; and similar effects\nproduced by a magic draught appear in the tale of Tristram and\nIsoude, and, substituting a flower for the draught, in\nShakspeare's \"Midsummer Night's Dream.\" There are many other\ninstances of the same kind which the reader will recognize without\nour assistance.\n\nThe sources whence we derive these stories are, first, the Italian\npoets named above; next, the \"Romans de Chevalerie\" of the Comte\nde Tressan; lastly, certain German collections of popular tales.\nSome chapters have been borrowed from Leigh Hunt's Translations\nfrom the Italian Poets. It seemed unnecessary to do over again\nwhat he had already done so well; yet, on the other hand, those\nstories could not be omitted from the series without leaving it\nincomplete.\n\nTHOMAS BULFINCH.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nSTORIES OF GODS AND HEROES\n\n      I. Introduction\n     II. Prometheus and Pandora\n    III. Apollo and Daphne--Pyramus and Thisbe--Cephalus and Procris\n     IV. Juno and her Rivals, Io and Callisto--Diana and Actaeon\n         --Latona and the Rustics\n      V. Phaeton\n     VI. Midas--Baucis and Philemon\n    VII. Proserpine--Glaucus and Scylla\n   VIII. Pygmalion--Dryope--Venus and Adonis--Apollo and Hyacinthus\n     IX. Ceyx and Halcyone\n      X. Vertumnus and Pomona--Iphis and Anaxarete\n     XI. Cupid and Psyche\n    XII. Cadmus--The Myrmidons\n   XIII. Nisus and Scylla--Echo and Narcissus--Clytie--Hero and Leander\n    XIV. Minerva and Arachne--Niobe\n     XV. The Graeae and Gorgons--Perseus and Medusa--Atlas--Andromeda\n    XVI. Monsters: Giants--Sphinx--Pegasus and Chimaera--Centaurs\n         --Griffin--Pygmies\n   XVII. The Golden Fleece--Medea\n  XVIII. Meleager and Atalanta\n    XIX. Hercules--Hebe and Ganymede\n     XX.  Theseus and Daedalus--Castor and Pollux--Festivals and Games\n    XXI. Bacchus and Ariadne\n   XXII. The Rural Deities--The Dryads and Erisichthon\n         --Rhoecus--Water Deities--Camenae--Winds\n  XXIII. Achelous and Hercules--Admetus and Alcestis--Antigone--Penelope\n   XXIV. Orpheus and Eurydice--Aristaeus--Amphion--Linus\n         --Thamyris--Marsyas--Melampus--Musaeus\n    XXV. Arion--Ibycus--Simonides--Sappho\n   XXVI. Endymion--Orion--Aurora and Tithonus--Acis and Galatea\n  XXVII. The Trojan War\n XXVIII. The Fall of Troy--Return of the Greeks--Orestes and Electra\n   XXIX. Adventures of Ulysses--The Lotus-eaters--The Cyclopes\n         --Circe--Sirens--Scylla and Charybdis--Calypso\n    XXX. The Phaeacians--Fate of the Suitors\n   XXXI. Adventures of Aeneas--The Harpies--Dido--Palinurus\n  XXXII. The Infernal Regions--The Sibyl\n XXXIII. Aeneas in Italy--Camilla--Evander--Nisus and Euryalus\n         --Mezentius--Turnus\n  XXXIV. Pythagoras--Egyptian Deities--Oracles\n   XXXV. Origin of Mythology--Statues of Gods and Goddesses\n         --Poets of Mythology\n  XXXVI. Monsters (modern)--The Phoenix--Basilisk--Unicorn--Salamander\n XXXVII. Eastern Mythology--Zoroaster--Hindu Mythology--Castes--Buddha\n         --The Grand Lama--Prester John\nXXXVIII. Northern Mythology--Valhalla--The Valkyrior\n  XXXIX. Thor's Visit to Jotunheim\n     XL. The Death of Baldur--The Elves--Runic Letters--Skalds--Iceland\n         --Teutonic Mythology--The Nibelungen Lied\n         --Wagner's Nibelungen Ring\n    XLI. The Druids--Iona\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\n\n\n\nSTORIES OF GODS AND HEROES\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe religions of ancient Greece and Rome are extinct. The so-\ncalled divinities of Olympus have not a single worshipper among\nliving men. They belong now not to the department of theology, but\nto those of literature and taste. There they still hold their\nplace, and will continue to hold it, for they are too closely\nconnected with the finest productions of poetry and art, both\nancient and modern, to pass into oblivion.\n\nWe propose to tell the stories relating to them which have come\ndown to us from the ancients, and which are alluded to by modern\npoets, essayists, and orators. Our readers may thus at the same\ntime be entertained by the most charming fictions which fancy has\never created, and put in possession of information indispensable\nto every one who would read with intelligence the elegant\nliterature of his own day.\n\nIn order to understand these stories, it will be necessary to\nacquaint ourselves with the ideas of the structure of the universe\nwhich prevailed among the Greeks--the people from whom the\nRomans, and other nations through them, received their science and\nreligion.\n\nThe Greeks believed the earth to be flat and circular, their own\ncountry occupying the middle of it, the central point being either\nMount Olympus, the abode of the gods, or Delphi, so famous for its\noracle.\n\nThe circular disk of the earth was crossed from west to east and\ndivided into two equal parts by the Sea, as they called the\nMediterranean, and its continuation the Euxine, the only seas with\nwhich they were acquainted.\n\nAround the earth flowed the River Ocean, its course being from\nsouth to north on the western side of the earth, and in a contrary\ndirection on the eastern side. It flowed in a steady, equable\ncurrent, unvexed by storm or tempest. The sea, and all the rivers\non earth, received their waters from it.\n\nThe northern portion of the earth was supposed to be inhabited by\na happy race named the Hyperboreans, dwelling in everlasting bliss\nand spring beyond the lofty mountains whose caverns were supposed\nto send forth the piercing blasts of the north wind, which chilled\nthe people of Hellas (Greece). Their country was inaccessible by\nland or sea. They lived exempt from disease or old age, from toils\nand warfare. Moore has given us the \"Song of a Hyperborean,\"\nbeginning\n\n    \"I come from a land in the sun-bright deep,\n        Where golden gardens glow,\n     Where the winds of the north, becalmed in sleep,\n        Their conch shells never blow.\"\n\nOn the south side of the earth, close to the stream of Ocean,\ndwelt a people happy and virtuous as the Hyperboreans. They were\nnamed the Aethiopians. The gods favored them so highly that they\nwere wont to leave at times their Olympian abodes and go to share\ntheir sacrifices and banquets.\n\nOn the western margin of the earth, by the stream of Ocean, lay a\nhappy place named the Elysian Plain, whither mortals favored by\nthe gods were transported without tasting of death, to enjoy an\nimmortality of bliss. This happy region was also called the\n\"Fortunate Fields,\" and the \"Isles of the Blessed.\"\n\nWe thus see that the Greeks of the early ages knew little of any\nreal people except those to the east and south of their own\ncountry, or near the coast of the Mediterranean. Their imagination\nmeantime peopled the western portion of this sea with giants,\nmonsters, and enchantresses; while they placed around the disk of\nthe earth, which they probably regarded as of no great width,\nnations enjoying the peculiar favor of the gods, and blessed with\nhappiness and longevity.\n\nThe Dawn, the Sun, and the Moon were supposed to rise out of the\nOcean, on the eastern side, and to drive through the air, giving\nlight to gods and men. The stars, also, except those forming the\nWain or Bear, and others near them, rose out of and sank into the\nstream of Ocean. There the sun-god embarked in a winged boat,\nwhich conveyed him round by the northern part of the earth, back\nto his place of rising in the east. Milton alludes to this in his\n\"Comus\":\n\n    \"Now the gilded car of day\n     His golden axle doth allay\n     In the steep Atlantic stream,\n     And the slope Sun his upward beam\n     Shoots against the dusky pole,\n     Pacing towards the other goal\n     Of his chamber in the east\"\n\nThe abode of the gods was on the summit of Mount Olympus, in\nThessaly. A gate of clouds, kept by the goddesses named the\nSeasons, opened to permit the passage of the Celestials to earth,\nand to receive them on their return. The gods had their separate\ndwellings; but all, when summoned, repaired to the palace of\nJupiter, as did also those deities whose usual abode was the\nearth, the waters, or the underworld. It was also in the great\nhall of the palace of the Olympian king that the gods feasted each\nday on ambrosia and nectar, their food and drink, the latter being\nhanded round by the lovely goddess Hebe. Here they conversed of\nthe affairs of heaven and earth; and as they quaffed their nectar,\nApollo, the god of music, delighted them with the tones of his\nlyre, to which the Muses sang in responsive strains. When the sun\nwas set, the gods retired to sleep in their respective dwellings.\n\nThe following lines from the \"Odyssey\" will show how Homer\nconceived of Olympus:\n\n    \"So saying, Minerva, goddess azure-eyed,\n    Rose to Olympus, the reputed seat\n    Eternal of the gods, which never storms\n    Disturb, rains drench, or snow invades, but calm\n    The expanse and cloudless shmes with purest day.\n    There the inhabitants divine rejoice\n    Forever\"--Cowper.\n\nThe robes and other parts of the dress of the goddesses were woven\nby Minerva and the Graces and everything of a more solid nature\nwas formed of the various metals. Vulcan was architect, smith,\narmorer, chariot builder, and artist of all work in Olympus. He\nbuilt of brass the houses of the gods; he made for them the golden\nshoes with which they trod the air or the water, and moved from\nplace to place with the speed of the wind, or even of thought. He\nalso shod with brass the celestial steeds, which whirled the\nchariots of the gods through the air, or along the surface of the\nsea. He was able to bestow on his workmanship self-motion, so\nthat the tripods (chairs and tables) could move of themselves in\nand out of the celestial hall. He even endowed with intelligence\nthe golden handmaidens whom he made to wait on himself.\n\nJupiter, or Jove (Zeus [Footnote: The names included in\nparentheses are the Greek, the others being the Roman or Latin\nnames] ), though called the father of gods and men, had himself a\nbeginning. Saturn (Cronos) was his father, and Rhea (Ops) his\nmother. Saturn and Rhea were of the race of Titans, who were the\nchildren of Earth and Heaven, which sprang from Chaos, of which we\nshall give a further account in our next chapter.\n\nThere is another cosmogony, or account of the creation, according\nto which Earth, Erebus, and Love were the first of beings. Love\n(Eros) issued from the egg of Night, which floated on Chaos. By\nhis arrows and torch he pierced and vivified all things, producing\nlife and joy.\n\nSaturn and Rhea were not the only Titans. There were others, whose\nnames were Oceanus, Hyperion, Iapetus, and Ophion, males; and\nThemis, Mnemosyne, Eurynome, females. They are spoken of as the\nelder gods, whose dominion was afterwards transferred to others.\nSaturn yielded to Jupiter, Oceanus to Neptune, Hyperion to Apollo.\nHyperion was the father of the Sun, Moon, and Dawn. He is\ntherefore the original sun-god, and is painted with the splendor\nand beauty which were afterwards bestowed on Apollo.\n\n    \"Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself\"\n\n     --Shakspeare.\n\nOphion and Eurynome ruled over Olympus till they were dethroned by\nSaturn and Rhea. Milton alludes to them in \"Paradise Lost.\" He\nsays the heathens seem to have had some knowledge of the\ntemptation and fall of man.\n\n    \"And fabled how the serpent, whom they called\n     Ophion, with Eurynome, (the wide-\n     Encroaching Eve perhaps,) had first the rule\n     Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven.\"\n\nThe representations given of Saturn are not very consistent; for\non the one hand his reign is said to have been the golden age of\ninnocence and purity, and on the other he is described as a\nmonster who devoured his children. [Footnote: This inconsistency\narises from considering the Saturn of the Romans the same with the\nGrecian deity Cronos (Time), which, as it brings an end to all\nthings which have had a beginning, may be said to devour its own\noffspring] Jupiter, however, escaped this fate, and when grown up\nespoused Metis (Prudence), who administered a draught to Saturn\nwhich caused him to disgorge his children. Jupiter, with his\nbrothers and sisters, now rebelled against their father Saturn and\nhis brothers the Titans; vanquished them, and imprisoned some of\nthem in Tartarus, inflicting other penalties on others. Atlas was\ncondemned to bear up the heavens on his shoulders.\n\nOn the dethronement of Saturn, Jupiter with his brothers Neptune\n(Poseidon) and Pluto (Dis) divided his dominions. Jupiter's\nportion was the heavens, Neptune's the ocean, and Pluto's the\nrealms of the dead. Earth and Olympus were common property.\nJupiter was king of gods and men. The thunder was his weapon, and\nhe bore a shield called Aegis, made for him by Vulcan. The eagle\nwas his favorite bird, and bore his thunderbolts.\n\nJuno (Hera) was the wife of Jupiter, and queen of the gods. Iris,\nthe goddess of the rainbow, was her attendant and messenger. The\npeacock was her favorite bird.\n\nVulcan (Hephaestos), the celestial artist, was the son of Jupiter\nand Juno. He was born lame, and his mother was so displeased at\nthe sight of him that she flung him out of heaven. Other accounts\nsay that Jupiter kicked him out for taking part with his mother in\na quarrel which occurred between them. Vulcan's lameness,\naccording to this account, was the consequence of his fall. He was\na whole day falling, and at last alighted in the island of Lemnos,\nwhich was thenceforth sacred to him. Milton alludes to this story\nin \"Paradise Lost,\" Book I.:\n\n    \"... From morn\n    To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,\n    A summer's day; and with the setting sun\n    Dropped from the zenith, like a falling star,\n    On Lemnos, the Aegean isle.\"\n\nMars (Ares), the god of war, was the son of Jupiter and Juno.\n\nPhoebus Apollo, the god of archery, prophecy, and music, was the\nson of Jupiter and Latona, and brother of Diana (Artemis). He was\ngod of the sun, as Diana, his sister, was the goddess of the moon.\n\nVenus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, was the\ndaughter of Jupiter and Dione. Others say that Venus sprang from\nthe foam of the sea. The zephyr wafted her along the waves to the\nIsle of Cyprus, where she was received and attired by the Seasons,\nand then led to the assembly of the gods. All were charmed with\nher beauty, and each one demanded her for his wife. Jupiter gave\nher to Vulcan, in gratitude for the service he had rendered in\nforging thunderbolts. So the most beautiful of the goddesses\nbecame the wife of the most ill-favored of gods. Venus possessed\nan embroidered girdle called Cestus, which had the power of\ninspiring love. Her favorite birds were swans and doves, and the\nplants sacred to her were the rose and the myrtle.\n\nCupid (Eros), the god of love, was the son of Venus. He was her\nconstant companion; and, armed with bow and arrows, he shot the\ndarts of desire into the bosoms of both gods and men. There was a\ndeity named Anteros, who was sometimes represented as the avenger\nof slighted love, and sometimes as the symbol of reciprocal\naffection. The following legend is told of him:\n\nVenus, complaining to Themis that her son Eros continued always a\nchild, was told by her that it was because he was solitary, and\nthat if he had a brother he would grow apace. Anteros was soon\nafterwards born, and Eros immediately was seen to increase rapidly\nin size and strength.\n\nMinerva (Pallas, Athene), the goddess of wisdom, was the offspring\nof Jupiter, without a mother. She sprang forth from his head\ncompletely armed. Her favorite bird was the owl, and the plant\nsacred to her the olive.\n\nByron, in \"Childe Harold,\" alludes to the birth of Minerva thus:\n\n    \"Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be,\n     And Freedom find no champion and no child,\n     Such as Columbia saw arise, when she\n     Sprang forth a Pallas, armed and undefiled?\n     Or must such minds be nourished in the wild,\n     Deep in the unpruned forest,'midst the roar\n     Of cataracts, where nursing Nature smiled\n     On infant Washington? Has earth no more\n     Such seeds within her breast, or Europe no such shore?\"\n\nMercury (Hermes) was the son of Jupiter and Maia. He presided over\ncommerce, wrestling, and other gymnastic exercises, even over\nthieving, and everything, in short, which required skill and\ndexterity. He was the messenger of Jupiter, and wore a winged cap\nand winged shoes. He bore in his hand a rod entwined with two\nserpents, called the caduceus.\n\nMercury is said to have invented the lyre. He found, one day, a\ntortoise, of which he took the shell, made holes in the opposite\nedges of it, and drew cords of linen through them, and the\ninstrument was complete. The cords were nine, in honor of the nine\nMuses. Mercury gave the lyre to Apollo, and received from him in\nexchange the caduceus.\n\n[Footnote: From this origin of the instrument, the word \"shell\" is\noften used as synonymous with \"lyre,\" and figuratively for music\nand poetry. Thus Gray, in his ode on the \"Progress of Poesy,\"\nsays:\n\n    \"O Sovereign of the willing Soul,\n     Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,\n     Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares\n     And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.\"]\n\nCeres (Demeter) was the daughter of Saturn and Rhea. She had a\ndaughter named Proserpine (Persephone), who became the wife of\nPluto, and queen of the realms of the dead. Ceres presided over\nagriculture.\n\nBacchus (Dionysus), the god of wine, was the son of Jupiter and\nSemele. He represents not only the intoxicating power of wine, but\nits social and beneficent influences likewise, so that he is\nviewed as the promoter of civilization, and a lawgiver and lover\nof peace.\n\nThe Muses were the daughters of Jupiter and Mnemosyne (Memory).\nThey presided over song, and prompted the memory. They were nine\nin number, to each of whom was assigned the presidence over some\nparticular department of literature, art, or science. Calliope was\nthe muse of epic poetry, Clio of history, Euterpe of lyric poetry,\nMelpomene of tragedy, Terpsichore of choral dance and song, Erato\nof love poetry, Polyhymnia of sacred poetry, Urania of astronomy,\nThalia of comedy.\n\nThe Graces were goddesses presiding over the banquet, the dance,\nand all social enjoyments and elegant arts. They were three in\nnumber. Their names were Euphrosyne, Aglaia, and Thalia.\n\nSpenser describes the office of the Graces thus:\n\n    \"These three on men all gracious gifts bestow\n    Which deck the body or adorn the mind,\n    To make them lovely or well-favored show;\n    As comely carriage, entertainment kind,\n    Sweet semblance, friendly offices that bind,\n    And all the complements of courtesy;\n    They teach us how to each degree and kind\n    We should ourselves demean, to low, to high,\n    To friends, to foes; which skill men call Civility.\"\n\nThe Fates were also three--Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Their\noffice was to spin the thread of human destiny, and they were\narmed with shears, with which they cut it off when they pleased.\nThey were the daughters of Themis (Law), who sits by Jove on his\nthrone to give him counsel.\n\nThe Erinnyes, or Furies, were three goddesses who punished by\ntheir secret stings the crimes of those who escaped or defied\npublic justice. The heads of the Furies were wreathed with\nserpents, and their whole appearance was terrific and appalling.\nTheir names were Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera. They were also\ncalled Eumenides.\n\nNemesis was also an avenging goddess. She represents the righteous\nanger of the gods, particularly towards the proud and insolent.\n\nPan was the god of flocks and shepherds. His favorite residence\nwas in Arcadia.\n\nThe Satyrs were deities of the woods and fields. They were\nconceived to be covered with bristly hair, their heads decorated\nwith short, sprouting horns, and their feet like goats' feet.\n\nMomus was the god of laughter, and Plutus the god of wealth.\n\nROMAN DIVINITIES\n\nThe preceding are Grecian divinities, though received also by the\nRomans. Those which follow are peculiar to Roman mythology:\n\nSaturn was an ancient Italian deity. It was attempted to identify\nhim with the Grecian god Cronos, and fabled that after his\ndethronement by Jupiter he fled to Italy, where he reigned during\nwhat was called the Golden Age. In memory of his beneficent\ndominion, the feast of Saturnalia was held every year in the\nwinter season. Then all public business was suspended,\ndeclarations of war and criminal executions were postponed,\nfriends made presents to one another and the slaves were indulged\nwith great liberties. A feast was given them at which they sat at\ntable, while their masters served them, to show the natural\nequality of men, and that all things belonged equally to all, in\nthe reign of Saturn.\n\nFaunus, [Footnote: There was also a goddess called Fauna, or Bona\nDea.] the grandson of Saturn, was worshipped as the god of fields\nand shepherds, and also as a prophetic god. His name in the\nplural, Fauns, expressed a class of gamesome deities, like the\nSatyrs of the Greeks.\n\nQuirinus was a war god, said to be no other than Romulus, the\nfounder of Rome, exalted after his death to a place among the\ngods.\n\nBellona, a war goddess.\n\nTerminus, the god of landmarks. His statue was a rude stone or\npost, set in the ground to mark the boundaries of fields.\n\nPales, the goddess presiding over cattle and pastures.\n\nPomona presided over fruit trees.\n\nFlora, the goddess of flowers.\n\nLucina, the goddess of childbirth.\n\nVesta (the Hestia of the Greeks) was a deity presiding over the\npublic and private hearth. A sacred fire, tended by six virgin\npriestesses called Vestals, flamed in her temple. As the safety of\nthe city was held to be connected with its conservation, the\nneglect of the virgins, if they let it go out, was severely\npunished, and the fire was rekindled from the rays of the sun.\n\nLiber is the Latin name of Bacchus; and Mulciber of Vulcan.\n\nJanus was the porter of heaven. He opens the year, the first month\nbeing named after him. He is the guardian deity of gates, on which\naccount he is commonly represented with two heads, because every\ndoor looks two ways. His temples at Rome were numerous. In war\ntime the gates of the principal one were always open. In peace\nthey were closed; but they were shut only once between the reign\nof Numa and that of Augustus.\n\nThe Penates were the gods who were supposed to attend to the\nwelfare and prosperity of the family. Their name is derived from\nPenus, the pantry, which was sacred to them. Every master of a\nfamily was the priest to the Penates of his own house.\n\nThe Lares, or Lars, were also household gods, but differed from\nthe Penates in being regarded as the deified spirits of mortals.\nThe family Lars were held to be the souls of the ancestors, who\nwatched over and protected their descendants. The words Lemur and\nLarva more nearly correspond to our word Ghost.\n\nThe Romans believed that every man had his Genius, and every woman\nher Juno: that is, a spirit who had given them being, and was\nregarded as their protector through life. On their birthdays men\nmade offerings to their Genius, women to their Juno.\n\nA modern poet thus alludes to some of the Roman gods:\n\n    \"Pomona loves the orchard,\n       And Liber loves the vine,\n     And Pales loves the straw-built shed\n       Warm with the breath of kine;\n     And Venus loves the whisper\n       Of plighted youth and maid,\n     In April's ivory moonlight,\n       Beneath the chestnut shade.\"\n\n    --Macaulay, \"Prophecy of Capys.\"\n\nN.B.--It is to be observed that in proper names the final e and es\nare to be sounded. Thus Cybele and Penates are words of three\nsyllables. But Proserpine and Thebes are exceptions, and to be\npronounced as English words. In the Index at the close of the\nvolume we shall mark the accented syllable in all words which\nappear to require it.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nPROMETHEUS AND PANDORA\n\n\nThe creation of the world is a problem naturally fitted to excite\nthe liveliest interest of man, its inhabitant. The ancient pagans,\nnot having the information on the subject which we derive from the\npages of Scripture, had their own way of telling the story, which\nis as follows:\n\nBefore earth and sea and heaven were created, all things wore one\naspect, to which we give the name of Chaos--a confused and\nshapeless mass, nothing but dead weight, in which, however,\nslumbered the seeds of things. Earth, sea, and air were all mixed\nup together; so the earth was not solid, the sea was not fluid,\nand the air was not transparent. God and Nature at last\ninterposed, and put an end to this discord, separating earth from\nsea, and heaven from both. The fiery part, being the lightest,\nsprang up, and formed the skies; the air was next in weight and\nplace. The earth, being heavier, sank below; and the water took\nthe lowest place, and buoyed up the earth.\n\nHere some god--it is not known which--gave his good offices in\narranging and disposing the earth. He appointed rivers and bays\ntheir places, raised mountains, scooped out valleys, distributed\nwoods, fountains, fertile fields, and stony plains. The air being\ncleared, the stars began to appear, fishes took possession of the\nsea, birds of the air, and four-footed beasts of the land.\n\nBut a nobler animal was wanted, and Man was made. It is not known\nwhether the creator made him of divine materials, or whether in\nthe earth, so lately separated from heaven, there lurked still\nsome heavenly seeds. Prometheus took some of this earth, and\nkneading it up with water, made man in the image of the gods. He\ngave him an upright stature, so that while all other animals turn\ntheir faces downward, and look to the earth, he raises his to\nheaven, and gazes on the stars.\n\nPrometheus was one of the Titans, a gigantic race, who inhabited\nthe earth before the creation of man. To him and his brother\nEpimetheus was committed the office of making man, and providing\nhim and all other animals with the faculties necessary for their\npreservation. Epimetheus undertook to do this, and Prometheus was\nto overlook his work, when it was done. Epimetheus accordingly\nproceeded to bestow upon the different animals the various gifts\nof courage, strength, swiftness, sagacity; wings to one, claws to\nanother, a shelly covering to a third, etc. But when man came to\nbe provided for, who was to be superior to all other animals,\nEpimetheus had been so prodigal of his resources that he had\nnothing left to bestow upon him. In his perplexity he resorted to\nhis brother Prometheus, who, with the aid of Minerva, went up to\nheaven, and lighted his torch at the chariot of the sun, and\nbrought down fire to man. With this gift man was more than a match\nfor all other animals. It enabled him to make weapons wherewith to\nsubdue them; tools with which to cultivate the earth; to warm his\ndwelling, so as to be comparatively independent of climate; and\nfinally to introduce the arts and to coin money, the means of\ntrade and commerce. Woman was not yet made. The story (absurd\nenough!) is that Jupiter made her, and sent her to Prometheus and\nhis brother, to punish them for their presumption in stealing fire\nfrom heaven; and man, for accepting the gift. The first woman was\nnamed Pandora. She was made in heaven, every god contributing\nsomething to perfect her. Venus gave her beauty, Mercury\npersuasion, Apollo music, etc. Thus equipped, she was conveyed to\nearth, and presented to Epimetheus, who gladly accepted her,\nthough cautioned by his brother to beware of Jupiter and his\ngifts. Epimetheus had in his house a jar, in which were kept\ncertain noxious articles, for which, in fitting man for his new\nabode, he had had no occasion. Pandora was seized with an eager\ncuriosity to know what this jar contained; and one day she slipped\noff the cover and looked in. Forthwith there escaped a multitude\nof plagues for hapless man,--such as gout, rheumatism, and colic\nfor his body, and envy, spite, and revenge for his mind,--and\nscattered themselves far and wide. Pandora hastened to replace the\nlid! but, alas! the whole contents of the jar had escaped, one\nthing only excepted, which lay at the bottom, and that was HOPE.\nSo we see at this day, whatever evils are abroad, hope never\nentirely leaves us; and while we have THAT, no amount of other\nills can make us completely wretched.\n\nAnother story is that Pandora was sent in good faith, by Jupiter,\nto bless man; that she was furnished with a box, containing her\nmarriage presents, into which every god had put some blessing. She\nopened the box incautiously, and the blessings all escaped, HOPE\nonly excepted. This story seems more probable than the former; for\nhow could HOPE, so precious a jewel as it is, have been kept in a\njar full of all manner of evils, as in the former statement?\n\nThe world being thus furnished with inhabitants, the first age was\nan age of innocence and happiness, called the Golden Age. Truth\nand right prevailed, though not enforced by law, nor was there any\nmagistrate to threaten or punish. The forest had not yet been\nrobbed of its trees to furnish timbers for vessels, nor had men\nbuilt fortifications round their towns. There were no such things\nas swords, spears, or helmets. The earth brought forth all things\nnecessary for man, without his labor in ploughing or sowing.\nPerpetual spring reigned, flowers sprang up without seed, the\nrivers flowed with milk and wine, and yellow honey distilled from\nthe oaks.\n\nThen succeeded the Silver Age, inferior to the golden, but better\nthan that of brass. Jupiter shortened the spring, and divided the\nyear into seasons. Then, first, men had to endure the extremes of\nheat and cold, and houses became necessary. Caves were the first\ndwellings, and leafy coverts of the woods, and huts woven of\ntwigs. Crops would no longer grow without planting. The farmer was\nobliged to sow the seed and the toiling ox to draw the plough.\n\nNext came the Brazen Age, more savage of temper, and readier to\nthe strife of arms, yet not altogether wicked. The hardest and\nworst was the Iron Age. Crime burst in like a flood; modesty,\ntruth, and honor fled. In their places came fraud and cunning,\nviolence, and the wicked love of gain. Then seamen spread sails to\nthe wind, and the trees were torn from the mountains to serve for\nkeels to ships, and vex the face of ocean. The earth, which till\nnow had been cultivated in common, began to be divided off into\npossessions. Men were not satisfied with what the surface\nproduced, but must dig into its bowels, and draw forth from thence\nthe ores of metals. Mischievous IRON, and more mischievous GOLD,\nwere produced. War sprang up, using both as weapons; the guest was\nnot safe in his friend's house; and sons-in-law and fathers-in-\nlaw, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, could not trust one\nanother. Sons wished their fathers dead, that they might come to\nthe inheritance; family love lay prostrate. The earth was wet with\nslaughter, and the gods abandoned it, one by one, till Astraea\nalone was left, and finally she also took her departure.\n\n[Footnote: The goddess of innocence and purity. After leaving\nearth, she was placed among the stars, where she became the\nconstellation Virgo--the Virgin. Themis (Justice) was the mother\nof Astraea. She is represented as holding aloft a pair of scales,\nin which she weighs the claims of opposing parties.\n\nIt was a favorite idea of the old poets that these goddesses would\none day return, and bring back the Golden Age. Even in a Christian\nhymn, the \"Messiah\" of Pope, this idea occurs:\n\n    \"All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail,\n     Returning Justice lift aloft her scale,\n     Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,\n     And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend.\"\n\nSee, also, Milton's \"Hymn on the Nativity,\" stanzas xiv. and xv.]\n\nJupiter, seeing this state of things, burned with anger. He\nsummoned the gods to council. They obeyed the call, and took the\nroad to the palace of heaven. The road, which any one may see in a\nclear night, stretches across the face of the sky, and is called\nthe Milky Way. Along the road stand the palaces of the illustrious\ngods; the common people of the skies live apart, on either side.\nJupiter addressed the assembly. He set forth the frightful\ncondition of things on the earth, and closed by announcing his\nintention to destroy the whole of its inhabitants, and provide a\nnew race, unlike the first, who would be more worthy of life, and\nmuch better worshippers of the gods. So saying he took a\nthunderbolt, and was about to launch it at the world, and destroy\nit by burning; but recollecting the danger that such a\nconflagration might set heaven itself on fire, he changed his\nplan, and resolved to drown it. The north wind, which scatters the\nclouds, was chained up; the south was sent out, and soon covered\nall the face of heaven with a cloak of pitchy darkness. The\nclouds, driven together, resound with a crash; torrents of rain\nfall; the crops are laid low; the year's labor of the husbandman\nperishes in an hour. Jupiter, not satisfied with his own waters,\ncalls on his brother Neptune to aid him with his. He lets loose\nthe rivers, and pours them over the land. At the same time, he\nheaves the land with an earthquake, and brings in the reflux of\nthe ocean over the shores. Flocks, herds, men, and houses are\nswept away, and temples, with their sacred enclosures, profaned.\nIf any edifice remained standing, it was overwhelmed, and its\nturrets lay hid beneath the waves. Now all was sea, sea without\nshore. Here and there an individual remained on a projecting\nhilltop, and a few, in boats, pulled the oar where they had lately\ndriven the plough. The fishes swim among the tree-tops; the anchor\nis let down into a garden. Where the graceful lambs played but\nnow, unwieldy sea calves gambol. The wolf swims among the sheep,\nthe yellow lions and tigers struggle in the water. The strength of\nthe wild boar serves him not, nor his swiftness the stag. The\nbirds fall with weary wing into the water, having found no land\nfor a resting-place. Those living beings whom the water spared\nfell a prey to hunger.\n\nParnassus alone, of all the mountains, overtopped the waves; and\nthere Deucalion, and his wife Pyrrha, of the race of Prometheus,\nfound refuge--he a just man, and she a faithful worshipper of the\ngods. Jupiter, when he saw none left alive but this pair, and\nremembered their harmless lives and pious demeanor, ordered the\nnorth winds to drive away the clouds, and disclose the skies to\nearth, and earth to the skies. Neptune also directed Triton to\nblow on his shell, and sound a retreat to the waters. The waters\nobeyed, and the sea returned to its shores, and the rivers to\ntheir channels. Then Deucalion thus addressed Pyrrha: \"O wife,\nonly surviving woman, joined to me first by the ties of kindred\nand marriage, and now by a common danger, would that we possessed\nthe power of our ancestor Prometheus, and could renew the race as\nhe at first made it! But as we cannot, let us seek yonder temple,\nand inquire of the gods what remains for us to do.\" They entered\nthe temple, deformed as it was with slime, and approached the\naltar, where no fire burned. There they fell prostrate on the\nearth, and prayed the goddess to inform them how they might\nretrieve their miserable affairs. The oracle answered, \"Depart\nfrom the temple with head veiled and garments unbound, and cast\nbehind you the bones of your mother.\" They heard the words with\nastonishment. Pyrrha first broke silence: \"We cannot obey; we dare\nnot profane the remains of our parents.\" They sought the thickest\nshades of the wood, and revolved the oracle in their minds. At\nlength Deucalion spoke: \"Either my sagacity deceives me, or the\ncommand is one we may obey without impiety. The earth is the great\nparent of all; the stones are her bones; these we may cast behind\nus; and I think this is what the oracle means. At least, it will\ndo no harm to try.\" They veiled their faces, unbound their\ngarments, and picked up stones, and cast them behind them. The\nstones (wonderful to relate) began to grow soft, and assume shape.\nBy degrees, they put on a rude resemblance to the human form, like\na block half-finished in the hands of the sculptor. The moisture\nand slime that were about them became flesh; the stony part became\nbones; the veins remained veins, retaining their name, only\nchanging their use. Those thrown by the hand of the man became\nmen, and those by the woman became women. It was a hard race, and\nwell adapted to labor, as we find ourselves to be at this day,\ngiving plain indications of our origin.\n\nThe comparison of Eve to Pandora is too obvious to have escaped\nMilton, who introduces it in Book IV. of \"Paradise Lost\":\n\n    \"More lovely than Pandora, whom the gods\n     Endowed with all their gifts; and O, too like\n     In sad event, when to the unwiser son\n     Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she insnared\n     Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged\n     On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.\"\n\nPrometheus and Epimetheus were sons of Iapetus, which Milton\nchanges to Japhet.\n\nPrometheus has been a favorite subject with the poets. He is\nrepresented as the friend of mankind, who interposed in their\nbehalf when Jove was incensed against them, and who taught them\ncivilization and the arts. But as, in so doing, he transgressed\nthe will of Jupiter, he drew down on himself the anger of the\nruler of gods and men. Jupiter had him chained to a rock on Mount\nCaucasus, where a vulture preyed on his liver, which was renewed\nas fast as devoured. This state of torment might have been brought\nto an end at any time by Prometheus, if he had been willing to\nsubmit to his oppressor; for he possessed a secret which involved\nthe stability of Jove's throne, and if he would have revealed it,\nhe might have been at once taken into favor. But that he disdained\nto do. He has therefore become the symbol of magnanimous endurance\nof unmerited suffering, and strength of will resisting oppression.\n\nByron and Shelley have both treated this theme. The following are\nByron's lines:\n\n    \"Titan! to whose immortal eyes\n       The sufferings of mortality,\n       Seen in their sad reality,\n     Were not as things that gods despise;\n     What was thy pity's recompense?\n     A silent suffering, and intense;\n     The rock, the vulture, and the chain;\n     All that the proud can feel of pain;\n     The agony they do not show;\n     The suffocating sense of woe.\n\n    \"Thy godlike crime was to be kind;\n       To render with thy precepts less\n       The sum of human wretchedness,\n     And strengthen man with his own mind.\n       And, baffled as thou wert from high,\n       Still, in thy patient energy\n     In the endurance and repulse\n       Of thine impenetrable spirit,\n     Which earth and heaven could not convulse,\n       A mighty lesson we inherit.\"\n\nByron also employs the same allusion, in his\n\"Ode to Napoleon Bonaparte\":\n\n    \"Or, like the thief of fire from heaven,\n       Wilt thou withstand the shock?\n     And share with him--the unforgiven--\n       His vulture and his rock?\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nAPOLLO AND DAPHNE--PYRAMUS AND THISBE CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS\n\n\nThe slime with which the earth was covered by the waters of the\nflood produced an excessive fertility, which called forth every\nvariety of production, both bad and good. Among the rest, Python,\nan enormous serpent, crept forth, the terror of the people, and\nlurked in the caves of Mount Parnassus. Apollo slew him with his\narrows--weapons which he had not before used against any but\nfeeble animals, hares, wild goats, and such game. In commemoration\nof this illustrious conquest he instituted the Pythian games, in\nwhich the victor in feats of strength, swiftness of foot, or in\nthe chariot race was crowned with a wreath of beech leaves; for\nthe laurel was not yet adopted by Apollo as his own tree.\n\nThe famous statue of Apollo called the Belvedere represents the\ngod after this victory over the serpent Python. To this Byron\nalludes in his \"Childe Harold,\" iv., 161:\n\n    \"... The lord of the unerring bow,\n     The god of life, and poetry, and light,\n     The Sun, in human limbs arrayed, and brow\n     All radiant from his triumph in the fight\n     The shaft has just been shot; the arrow bright\n     With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye\n     And nostril, beautiful disdain, and might\n     And majesty flash their full lightnings by,\n     Developing in that one glance the Deity.\"\n\nAPOLLO AND DAPHNE\n\nDaphne was Apollo's first love. It was not brought about by\naccident, but by the malice of Cupid. Apollo saw the boy playing\nwith his bow and arrows; and being himself elated with his recent\nvictory over Python, he said to him, \"What have you to do with\nwarlike weapons, saucy boy? Leave them for hands worthy of them.\nBehold the conquest I have won by means of them over the vast\nserpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain!\nBe content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as\nyou call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my\nweapons.\" Venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, \"Your\narrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike\nyou.\" So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and\ndrew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to\nexcite love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and\nsharp pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the\nleaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river\ngod Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart.\nForthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she\nabhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports\nand in the spoils of the chase. Many lovers sought her, but she\nspurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking no thought of\nCupid nor of Hymen. Her father often said to her, \"Daughter, you\nowe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren.\" She, hating the\nthought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful face tinged all\nover with blushes, threw arms around her father's neck, and said,\n\"Dearest father, grant me this favor, that I may always remain\nunmarried, like Diana.\" He consented, but at the same time said,\n\"Your own face will forbid it.\"\n\nApollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives\noracles to all the world was not wise enough to look into his own\nfortunes. He saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders, and\nsaid, \"If so charming in disorder, what would it be if arranged?\"\nHe saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not\nsatisfied with only seeing them. He admired her hands and arms,\nnaked to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he\nimagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter\nthan the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties. \"Stay,\"\nsaid he, \"daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a\nlamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue\nyou. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt\nyourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run\nslower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant.\nJupiter is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and\nknow all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the\nlyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but, alas! an arrow more\nfatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine,\nand know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a\nmalady that no balm can cure!\"\n\nThe nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered.\nAnd even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments,\nand her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew\nimpatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by Cupid,\ngained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare,\nwith open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts\nforward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the\nvirgin--he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The\npursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his\npanting breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail,\nand, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god:\n\"Help me, Peneus! open the earth to enclose me, or change my form,\nwhich has brought me into this danger!\" Scarcely had she spoken,\nwhen a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be\nenclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became\nbranches; her foot stuck fast in the ground, as a root; her face,\nbecame a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its\nbeauty. Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the\nflesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and\nlavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips.\n\"Since you cannot be my wife,\" said he, \"you shall assuredly be my\ntree. I will wear you for my crown; I will decorate with you my\nharp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up\nthe triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths\nfor their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be\nalways green, and your leaf know no decay.\" The nymph, now changed\ninto a Laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment.\n\nThat Apollo should be the god both of music and poetry will not\nappear strange, but that medicine should also be assigned to his\nprovince, may. The poet Armstrong, himself a physician, thus\naccounts for it:\n\n    \"Music exalts each joy, allays each grief,\n     Expels diseases, softens every pain;\n     And hence the wise of ancient days adored\n     One power of physic, melody, and song.\"\n\nThe story of Apollo and Daphne is often alluded to by the poets.\nWaller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though\nthey did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the\npoet wide-spread fame:\n\n    \"Yet what he sung in his immortal strain,\n     Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain.\n     All but the nymph that should redress his wrong,\n     Attend his passion and approve his song.\n     Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise,\n     He caught at love and filled his arms with bays.\"\n\nThe following stanza from Shelley's \"Adonais\" alludes to Byron's\nearly quarrel with the reviewers:\n\n    \"The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;\n    The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead;\n    The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true,\n    Who feed where Desolation first has fed,\n    And whose wings rain contagion: how they fled,\n    When like Apollo, from his golden bow,\n    The Pythian of the age one arrow sped\n    And smiled! The spoilers tempt no second blow;\n    They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go.\"\n\nPYRAMUS AND THISBE\n\nPyramus was the handsomest youth, and Thisbe the fairest maiden,\nin all Babylonia, where Semiramis reigned. Their parents occupied\nadjoining houses; and neighborhood brought the young people\ntogether, and acquaintance ripened into love. They would gladly\nhave married, but their parents forbade. One thing, however, they\ncould not forbid--that love should glow with equal ardor in the\nbosoms of both. They conversed by signs and glances, and the fire\nburned more intensely for being covered up. In the wall that\nparted the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in\nthe structure. No one had remarked it before, but the lovers\ndiscovered it. What will not love discover! It afforded a passage\nto the voice; and tender messages used to pass backward and\nforward through the gap. As they stood, Pyramus on this side,\nThisbe on that, their breaths would mingle. \"Cruel wall,\" they\nsaid, \"why do you keep two lovers apart? But we will not be\nungrateful. We owe you, we confess, the privilege of transmitting\nloving words to willing ears.\" Such words they uttered on\ndifferent sides of the wall; and when night came and they must say\nfarewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side,\nhe on his, as they could come no nearer.\n\nNext morning, when Aurora had put out the stars, and the sun had\nmelted the frost from the grass, they met at the accustomed spot.\nThen, after lamenting their hard fate, they agreed, that next\nnight, when all was still, they would slip away from watchful\neyes, leave their dwellings and walk out into the fields; and to\ninsure a meeting, repair to a well-known edifice standing without\nthe city's bounds, called the Tomb of Ninus, and that the one who\ncame first should await the other at the foot of a certain tree.\nIt was a white mulberry tree, and stood near a cool spring. All\nwas agreed on, and they waited impatiently for the sun to go down\nbeneath the waters and night to rise up from them. Then cautiously\nThisbe stole forth, unobserved by the family, her head covered\nwith a veil, made her way to the monument and sat down under the\ntree. As she sat alone in the dim light of the evening she\ndescried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent slaughter,\napproaching the fountain to slake her thirst. Thisbe fled at the\nsight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she\ndropped her veil. The lioness after drinking at the spring turned\nto retreat to the woods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed\nand rent it with her bloody mouth.\n\nPyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting.\nHe saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the color fled\nfrom his cheeks at the sight. Presently he found the veil all rent\nand bloody. \"O hapless girl,\" said he, \"I have been the cause of\nthy death! Thou, more worthy of life than I, hast fallen the first\nvictim. I will follow. I am the guilty cause, in tempting thee\nforth to a place of such peril, and not being myself on the spot\nto guard thee. Come forth, ye lions, from the rocks, and tear this\nguilty body with your teeth.\" He took up the veil, carried it with\nhim to the appointed tree, and covered it with kisses and with\ntears. \"MY blood also shall stain your texture,\" said he, and\ndrawing his sword plunged it into his heart. The blood spurted\nfrom the wound, and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all\nred; and sinking into the earth reached the roots, so that the red\ncolor mounted through the trunk to the fruit.\n\nBy this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to\ndisappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously\nfor the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When\nshe came to the spot and saw the changed color of the mulberries\nshe doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she\nsaw the form of one struggling in the agonies of death. She\nstarted back, a shudder ran through her frame as a ripple on the\nface of the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. But\nas soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her\nbreast, embracing the lifeless body, pouring tears into its\nwounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips. \"O Pyramus,\" she\ncried, \"what has done this? Answer me, Pyramus; it is your own\nThisbe that speaks. Hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping\nhead!\" At the name of Thisbe Pyramus opened his eyes, then closed\nthem again. She saw her veil stained with blood and the scabbard\nempty of its sword. \"Thy own hand has slain thee, and for my\nsake,\" she said. \"I too can be brave for once, and my love is as\nstrong as thine. I will follow thee in death, for I have been the\ncause; and death which alone could part us shall not prevent my\njoining thee. And ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our\nunited request. As love and death have joined us, let one tomb\ncontain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy\nberries still serve for memorials of our blood.\" So saying she\nplunged the sword into her breast. Her parents ratified her wish,\nthe gods also ratified it. The two bodies were buried in one\nsepulchre, and the tree ever after brought forth purple berries,\nas it does to this day.\n\nMoore, in the \"Sylph's Ball,\" speaking of Davy's Safety Lamp, is\nreminded of the wall that separated Thisbe and her lover:\n\n    \"O for that Lamp's metallic gauze,\n       That curtain of protecting wire,\n     Which Davy delicately draws\n       Around illicit, dangerous fire!\n\n     The wall he sets 'twixt Flame and Air,\n       (Like that which barred young Thisbe's bliss,)\n     Through whose small holes this dangerous pair\n       May see each other, but not kiss.\"\n\nIn Mickle's translation of the \"Lusiad\" occurs the following\nallusion to the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, and the metamorphosis\nof the mulberries. The poet is describing the Island of Love:\n\n    \"... here each gift Pomona's hand bestows\n     In cultured garden, free uncultured flows,\n     The flavor sweeter and the hue more fair\n     Than e'er was fostered by the hand of care.\n     The cherry here in shining crimson glows,\n     And stained with lovers' blood, in pendent rows,\n     The mulberries o'erload the bending boughs.\"\n\nIf any of our young readers can be so hard-hearted as to enjoy a\nlaugh at the expense of poor Pyramus and Thisbe, they may find an\nopportunity by turning to Shakspeare's play of the \"Midsummer\nNight's Dream,\" where it is most amusingly burlesqued.\n\nCEPHALUS AND PROCRIS\n\nCephalus was a beautiful youth and fond of manly sports. He would\nrise before the dawn to pursue the chase. Aurora saw him when she\nfirst looked forth, fell in love with him, and stole him away. But\nCephalus was just married to a charming wife whom he devotedly\nloved. Her name was Procris. She was a favorite of Diana, the\ngoddess of hunting, who had given her a dog which could outrun\nevery rival, and a javelin which would never fail of its mark; and\nProcris gave these presents to her husband. Cephalus was so happy\nin his wife that he resisted all the entreaties of Aurora, and she\nfinally dismissed him in displeasure, saying, \"Go, ungrateful\nmortal, keep your wife, whom, if I am not much mistaken, you will\none day be very sorry you ever saw again.\"\n\nCephalus returned, and was as happy as ever in his wife and his\nwoodland sports. Now it happened some angry deity had sent a\nravenous fox to annoy the country; and the hunters turned out in\ngreat strength to capture it. Their efforts were all in vain; no\ndog could run it down; and at last they came to Cephalus to borrow\nhis famous dog, whose name was Lelaps. No sooner was the dog let\nloose than he darted off, quicker than their eye could follow him.\nIf they had not seen his footprints in the sand they would have\nthought he flew. Cephalus and others stood on a hill and saw the\nrace. The fox tried every art; he ran in a circle and turned on\nhis track, the dog close upon him, with open jaws, snapping at his\nheels, but biting only the air. Cephalus was about to use his\njavelin, when suddenly he saw both dog and game stop instantly.\nThe heavenly powers who had given both were not willing that\neither should conquer. In the very attitude of life and action\nthey were turned into stone. So lifelike and natural did they\nlook, you would have thought, as you looked at them, that one was\ngoing to bark, the other to leap forward.\n\nCephalus, though he had lost his dog, still continued to take\ndelight in the chase. He would go out at early morning, ranging\nthe woods and hills unaccompanied by any one, needing no help, for\nhis javelin was a sure weapon in all cases. Fatigued with hunting,\nwhen the sun got high he would seek a shady nook where a cool\nstream flowed, and, stretched on the grass, with his garments\nthrown aside, would enjoy the breeze. Sometimes he would say\naloud, \"Come, sweet breeze, come and fan my breast, come and allay\nthe heat that burns me.\" Some one passing by one day heard him\ntalking in this way to the air, and, foolishly believing that he\nwas talking to some maiden, went and told the secret to Procris,\nCephalus's wife. Love is credulous. Procris, at the sudden shock,\nfainted away. Presently recovering, she said, \"It cannot be true;\nI will not believe it unless I myself am a witness to it.\" So she\nwaited, with anxious heart, till the next morning, when Cephalus\nwent to hunt as usual. Then she stole out after him, and concealed\nherself in the place where the informer directed her. Cephalus\ncame as he was wont when tired with sport, and stretched himself\non the green bank, saying, \"Come, sweet breeze, come and fan me;\nyou know how I love you! you make the groves and my solitary\nrambles delightful.\" He was running on in this way when he heard,\nor thought he heard, a sound as of a sob in the bushes. Supposing\nit some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. A cry from\nhis beloved Procris told him that the weapon had too surely met\nits mark. He rushed to the place, and found her bleeding, and with\nsinking strength endeavoring to draw forth from the wound the\njavelin, her own gift. Cephalus raised her from the earth, strove\nto stanch the blood, and called her to revive and not to leave him\nmiserable, to reproach himself with her death. She opened her\nfeeble eyes, and forced herself to utter these few words: \"I\nimplore you, if you have ever loved me, if I have ever deserved\nkindness at your hands, my husband, grant me this last request; do\nnot marry that odious Breeze!\" This disclosed the whole mystery:\nbut alas! what advantage to disclose it now! She died; but her\nface wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and\nforgivingly on her husband when he made her understand the truth.\n\nMoore, in his \"Legendary Ballads,\" has one on Cephalus and\nProcris, beginning thus:\n\n    \"A hunter once in a grove reclined,\n       To shun the noon's bright eye,\n     And oft he wooed the wandering wind\n       To cool his brow with its sigh\n     While mute lay even the wild bee's hum,\n       Nor breath could stir the aspen's hair,\n     His song was still, 'Sweet Air, O come!'\n       While Echo answered, 'Come, sweet Air!'\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nJUNO AND HER RIVALS, IO AND CALLISTO--DIANA AND ACTAEON--LATONA\nAND THE RUSTICS\n\n\nJuno one day perceived it suddenly grow dark, and immediately\nsuspected that her husband had raised a cloud to hide some of his\ndoings that would not bear the light. She brushed away the cloud,\nand saw her husband on the banks of a glassy river, with a\nbeautiful heifer standing near him. Juno suspected the heifer's\nform concealed some fair nymph of mortal mould--as was, indeed the\ncase; for it was Io, the daughter of the river god Inachus, whom\nJupiter had been flirting with, and, when he became aware of the\napproach of his wife, had changed into that form.\n\nJuno joined her husband, and noticing the heifer praised its\nbeauty, and asked whose it was, and of what herd. Jupiter, to stop\nquestions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the earth.\nJuno asked to have it as a gift. What could Jupiter do? He was\nloath to give his mistress to his wife; yet how refuse so trifling\na present as a simple heifer? He could not, without exciting\nsuspicion; so he consented. The goddess was not yet relieved of\nher suspicions; so she delivered the heifer to Argus, to be\nstrictly watched.\n\nNow Argus had a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep\nwith more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of Io\nconstantly. He suffered her to feed through the day, and at night\ntied her up with a vile rope round her neck. She would have\nstretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but she had no\narms to stretch out, and her voice was a bellow that frightened\neven herself. She saw her father and her sisters, went near them,\nand suffered them to pat her back, and heard them admire her\nbeauty. Her father reached her a tuft of grass, and she licked the\noutstretched hand. She longed to make herself known to him, and\nwould have uttered her wish; but, alas! words were wanting. At\nlength she bethought herself of writing, and inscribed her name--\nit was a short one--with her hoof on the sand. Inachus recognized\nit, and discovering that his daughter, whom he had long sought in\nvain, was hidden under this disguise, mourned over her, and,\nembracing her white neck, exclaimed, \"Alas! my daughter, it would\nhave been a less grief to have lost you altogether!\" While he thus\nlamented, Argus, observing, came and drove her away, and took his\nseat on a high bank, from whence he could see all around in every\ndirection.\n\nJupiter was troubled at beholding the sufferings of his mistress,\nand calling Mercury told him to go and despatch Argus. Mercury\nmade haste, put his winged slippers on his feet, and cap on his\nhead, took his sleep-producing wand, and leaped down from the\nheavenly towers to the earth. There he laid aside his wings, and\nkept only his wand, with which he presented himself as a shepherd\ndriving his flock. As he strolled on he blew upon his pipes. These\nwere what are called the Syrinx or Pandean pipes. Argus listened\nwith delight, for he had never seen the instrument before. \"Young\nman,\" said he, \"come and take a seat by me on this stone. There is\nno better place for your flocks to graze in than hereabouts, and\nhere is a pleasant shade such as shepherds love.\" Mercury sat\ndown, talked, and told stories till it grew late, and played upon\nhis pipes his most soothing strains, hoping to lull the watchful\neyes to sleep, but all in vain; for Argus still contrived to keep\nsome of his eyes open though he shut the rest.\n\nAmong other stories, Mercury told him how the instrument on which\nhe played was invented. \"There was a certain nymph, whose name was\nSyrinx, who was much beloved by the satyrs and spirits of the\nwood; but she would have none of them, but was a faithful\nworshipper of Diana, and followed the chase. You would have\nthought it was Diana herself, had you seen her in her hunting\ndress, only that her bow was of horn and Diana's of silver. One\nday, as she was returning from the chase, Pan met her, told her\njust this, and added more of the same sort. She ran away, without\nstopping to hear his compliments, and he pursued till she came to\nthe bank of the river, where he overtook her, and she had only\ntime to call for help on her friends the water nymphs. They heard\nand consented. Pan threw his arms around what he supposed to be\nthe form of the nymph, and found he embraced only a tuft of reeds!\nAs he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds, and\nproduced a plaintive melody. The god, charmed with the novelty and\nwith the sweetness of the music, said, 'Thus, then, at least, you\nshall be mine.' And he took some of the reeds, and placing them\ntogether, of unequal lengths, side by side, made an instrument\nwhich he called Syrinx, in honor of the nymph.\" Before Mercury had\nfinished his story he saw Argus's eyes all asleep. As his head\nnodded forward on his breast, Mercury with one stroke cut his neck\nthrough, and tumbled his head down the rocks. O hapless Argus! the\nlight of your hundred eyes is quenched at once! Juno took them and\nput them as ornaments on the tail of her peacock, where they\nremain to this day.\n\nBut the vengeance of Juno was not yet satiated. She sent a gadfly\nto torment Io, who fled over the whole world from its pursuit. She\nswam through the Ionian sea, which derived its name from her, then\nroamed over the plains of Illyria, ascended Mount Haemus, and\ncrossed the Thracian strait, thence named the Bosphorus (cow-\nford), rambled on through Scythia, and the country of the\nCimmerians, and arrived at last on the banks of the Nile. At\nlength Jupiter interceded for her, and upon his promising not to\npay her any more attentions Juno consented to restore her to her\nform. It was curious to see her gradually recover her former self.\nThe coarse hairs fell from her body, her horns shrank up, her eyes\ngrew narrower, her mouth shorter; hands and fingers came instead\nof hoofs to her forefeet; in fine there was nothing left of the\nheifer, except her beauty. At first she was afraid to speak, for\nfear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confidence\nand was restored to her father and sisters.\n\nIn a poem dedicated to Leigh Hunt, by Keats, the following\nallusion to the story of Pan and Syrinx occurs:\n\n    \"So did he feel who pulled the bough aside,\n     That we might look into a forest wide,\n\n     Telling us how fair trembling Syrinx fled\n     Arcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread.\n     Poor nymph--poor Pan--how he did weep to find\n     Nought but a lovely sighing of the wind\n     Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain.\n     Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain.\"\n\nCALLISTO\n\nCallisto was another maiden who excited the jealousy of Juno, and\nthe goddess changed her into a bear. \"I will take away,\" said she,\n\"that beauty with which you have captivated my husband.\" Down fell\nCallisto on her hands and knees; she tried to stretch out her arms\nin supplication--they were already beginning to be covered with\nblack hair. Her hands grew rounded, became armed with crooked\nclaws, and served for feet; her mouth, which Jove used to praise\nfor its beauty, became a horrid pair of jaws; her voice, which if\nunchanged would have moved the heart to pity, became a growl, more\nfit to inspire terror. Yet her former disposition remained, and\nwith continual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright\nas well as she could, lifting up her paws to beg for mercy, and\nfelt that Jove was unkind, though she could not tell him so. Ah,\nhow often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she\nwandered about the neighborhood of her former haunts; how often,\nfrightened by the dogs, did she, so lately a huntress, fly in\nterror from the hunters! Often she fled from the wild beasts,\nforgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she\nwas, was afraid of the bears.\n\nOne day a youth espied her as he was hunting. She saw him and\nrecognized him as her own son, now grown a young man. She stopped\nand felt inclined to embrace him. As she was about to approach,\nhe, alarmed, raised his hunting spear, and was on the point of\ntransfixing her, when Jupiter, beholding, arrested the crime, and\nsnatching away both of them, placed them in the heavens as the\nGreat and Little Bear.\n\nJuno was in a rage to see her rival so set in honor, and hastened\nto ancient Tethys and Oceanus, the powers of ocean, and in answer\nto their inquiries thus told the cause of her coming: \"Do you ask\nwhy I, the queen of the gods, have left the heavenly plains and\nsought your depths? Learn that I am supplanted in heaven--my place\nis given to another. You will hardly believe me; but look when\nnight darkens the world, and you shall see the two of whom I have\nso much reason to complain exalted to the heavens, in that part\nwhere the circle is the smallest, in the neighborhood of the pole.\nWhy should any one hereafter tremble at the thought of offending\nJuno, when such rewards are the consequence of my displeasure? See\nwhat I have been able to effect! I forbade her to wear the human\nform--she is placed among the stars! So do my punishments result--\nsuch is the extent of my power! Better that she should have\nresumed her former shape, as I permitted Io to do. Perhaps he\nmeans to marry her, and put me away! But you, my foster-parents,\nif you feel for me, and see with displeasure this unworthy\ntreatment of me, show it, I beseech you, by forbidding this guilty\ncouple from coming into your waters.\" The powers of the ocean\nassented, and consequently the two constellations of the Great and\nLittle Bear move round and round in heaven, but never sink, as the\nother stars do, beneath the ocean.\n\nMilton alludes to the fact that the constellation of the Bear\nnever sets, when he says:\n\n    \"Let my lamp at midnight hour\n     Be seen in some high lonely tower,\n     Where I may oft outwatch the Bear,\" etc.\n\nAnd Prometheus, in J. R. Lowell's poem, says:\n\n    \"One after one the stars have risen and set,\n     Sparkling upon the hoar frost of my chain;\n     The Bear that prowled all night about the fold\n     Of the North-star, hath shrunk into his den,\n     Scared by the blithesome footsteps of the Dawn.\"\n\nThe last star in the tail of the Little Bear is the Pole-star,\ncalled also the Cynosure. Milton says:\n\n    \"Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures\n     While the landscape round it measures.\n\n     Towers and battlements it sees\n     Bosomed high in tufted trees,\n     Where perhaps some beauty lies\n     The Cynosure of neighboring eyes\"\n\nThe reference here is both to the Pole-star as the guide of\nmariners, and to the magnetic attraction of the North He calls it\nalso the \"Star of Arcady,\" because Callisto's boy was named Arcas,\nand they lived in Arcadia. In \"Comus,\" the brother, benighted in\nthe woods, says:\n\n    \"... Some gentle taper!\n     Though a rush candle, from the wicker hole\n     Of some clay habitation, visit us\n     With thy long levelled rule of streaming light,\n     And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,\n     Or Tyrian Cynosure.\"\n\nDIANA AND ACTAEON\n\nThus in two instances we have seen Juno's severity to her rivals;\nnow let us learn how a virgin goddess punished an invader of her\nprivacy.\n\nIt was midday, and the sun stood equally distant from either goal,\nwhen young Actaeon, son of King Cadmus, thus addressed the youths\nwho with him were hunting the stag in the mountains:\n\n\"Friends, our nets and our weapons are wet with the blood of our\nvictims; we have had sport enough for one day, and to-morrow we\ncan renew our labors. Now, while Phoebus parches the earth, let us\nput by our implements and indulge ourselves with rest.\"\n\nThere was a valley thick enclosed with cypresses and pines, sacred\nto the huntress queen, Diana. In the extremity of the valley was a\ncave, not adorned with art, but nature had counterfeited art in\nits construction, for she had turned the arch of its roof with\nstones as delicately fitted as if by the hand of man. A fountain\nburst out from one side, whose open basin was bounded by a grassy\nrim. Here the goddess of the woods used to come when weary with\nhunting and lave her virgin limbs in the sparkling water.\n\nOne day, having repaired thither with her nymphs, she handed her\njavelin, her quiver, and her bow to one, her robe to another,\nwhile a third unbound the sandals from her feet. Then Crocale, the\nmost skilful of them, arranged her hair, and Nephele, Hyale, and\nthe rest drew water in capacious urns. While the goddess was thus\nemployed in the labors of the toilet, behold Actaeon, having\nquitted his companions, and rambling without any especial object,\ncame to the place, led thither by his destiny. As he presented\nhimself at the entrance of the cave, the nymphs, seeing a man,\nscreamed and rushed towards the goddess to hide her with their\nbodies. But she was taller than the rest and overtopped them all\nby a head. Such a color as tinges the clouds at sunset or at dawn\ncame over the countenance of Diana thus taken by surprise.\nSurrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and\nsought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. As they were not at\nhand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, adding\nthese words: \"Now go and tell, if you can, that you have seen\nDiana unapparelled.\" Immediately a pair of branching stag's horns\ngrew out of his head, his neck gained in length, his ears grew\nsharp-pointed, his hands became feet, his arms long legs, his body\nwas covered with a hairy spotted hide. Fear took the place of his\nformer boldness, and the hero fled. He could not but admire his\nown speed; but when he saw his horns in the water, \"Ah, wretched\nme!\" he would have said, but no sound followed the effort. He\ngroaned, and tears flowed down the face which had taken the place\nof his own. Yet his consciousness remained. What shall he do?--go\nhome to seek the palace, or lie hid in the woods? The latter he\nwas afraid, the former he was ashamed, to do. While he hesitated\nthe dogs saw him. First Melampus, a Spartan dog, gave the signal\nwith his bark, then Pamphagus, Dorceus, Lelaps, Theron, Nape,\nTigris, and all the rest, rushed after him swifter than the wind.\nOver rocks and cliffs, through mountain gorges that seemed\nimpracticable, he fled and they followed. Where he had often\nchased the stag and cheered on his pack, his pack now chased him,\ncheered on by his huntsmen. He longed to cry out, \"I am Actaeon;\nrecognize your master!\" but the words came not at his will. The\nair resounded with the bark of the dogs. Presently one fastened on\nhis back, another seized his shoulder. While they held their\nmaster, the rest of the pack came up and buried their teeth in his\nflesh. He groaned,--not in a human voice, yet certainly not in a\nstag's,--and falling on his knees, raised his eyes, and would have\nraised his arms in supplication, if he had had them. His friends\nand fellow-huntsmen cheered on the dogs, and looked everywhere for\nActaeon, calling on him to join the sport. At the sound of his\nname he turned his head, and heard them regret that he should be\naway. He earnestly wished he was. He would have been well pleased\nto see the exploits of his dogs, but to feel them was too much.\nThey were all around him, rending and tearing; and it was not till\nthey had torn his life out that the anger of Diana was satisfied.\n\nIn Shelley's poem \"Adonais\" is the following allusion to the story\nof Actaeon:\n\n    \"'Midst others of less note came one frail form,\n    A phantom among men: companionless\n    As the last cloud of an expiring storm,\n    Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,\n    Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness,\n    Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray\n    With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness;\n    And his own Thoughts, along that rugged way,\n    Pursued like raging hounds their father and their prey.\"\n\n    Stanza 31.\n\nThe allusion is probably to Shelley himself.\n\nLATONA AND THE RUSTICS\n\nSome thought the goddess in this instance more severe than was\njust, while others praised her conduct as strictly consistent with\nher virgin dignity. As, usual, the recent event brought older ones\nto mind, and one of the bystanders told this story: \"Some\ncountrymen of Lycia once insulted the goddess Latona, but not with\nimpunity. When I was young, my father, who had grown too old for\nactive labors, sent me to Lycia to drive thence some choice oxen,\nand there I saw the very pond and marsh where the wonder happened.\nNear by stood an ancient altar, black with the smoke of sacrifice\nand almost buried among the reeds. I inquired whose altar it might\nbe, whether of Faunus or the Naiads, or some god of the\nneighboring mountain, and one of the country people replied, 'No\nmountain or river god possesses this altar, but she whom royal\nJuno in her jealousy drove from land to land, denying her any spot\nof earth whereon to rear her twins. Bearing in her arms the infant\ndeities, Latona reached this land, weary with her burden and\nparched with thirst. By chance she espied on the bottom of the\nvalley this pond of clear water, where the country people were at\nwork gathering willows and osiers. The goddess approached, and\nkneeling on the bank would have slaked her thirst in the cool\nstream, but the rustics forbade her. 'Why do you refuse me water?'\nsaid she; 'water is free to all. Nature allows no one to claim as\nproperty the sunshine, the air, or the water. I come to take my\nshare of the common blessing. Yet I ask it of you as a favor. I\nhave no intention of washing my limbs in it, weary though they be,\nbut only to quench my thirst. My mouth is so dry that I can hardly\nspeak. A draught Of water would be nectar to me; it would revive\nme, and I would own myself indebted to you for life itself. Let\nthese infants move your pity, who stretch out their little arms as\nif to plead for me;' and the children, as it happened, were\nstretching out their arms.\n\n\"Who would not have been moved with these gentle words of the\ngoddess? But these clowns persisted in their rudeness; they even\nadded jeers and threats of violence if she did not leave the\nplace. Nor was this all. They waded into the pond and stirred up\nthe mud with their feet, so as to make the water unfit to drink.\nLatona was so angry that she ceased to mind her thirst. She no\nlonger supplicated the clowns, but lifting her hands to heaven\nexclaimed, 'May they never quit that pool, but pass their lives\nthere!' And it came to pass accordingly. They now live in the\nwater, sometimes totally submerged, then raising their heads above\nthe surface or swimming upon it. Sometimes they come out upon the\nbank, but soon leap back again into the water. They still use\ntheir base voices in railing, and though they have the water all\nto themselves, are not ashamed to croak in the midst of it. Their\nvoices are harsh, their throats bloated, their mouths have become\nstretched by constant railing, their necks have shrunk up and\ndisappeared, and their heads are joined to their bodies. Their\nbacks are green, their disproportioned bellies white, and in short\nthey are now frogs, and dwell in the slimy pool.\"\n\nThis story explains the allusion in one of Milton's sonnets, \"On\nthe detraction which followed upon his writing certain treatises.\"\n\n    \"I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs\n       By the known laws of ancient liberty,\n       When straight a barbarous noise environs me\n     Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.\n     As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs\n       Railed at Latona's twin-born progeny,\n       Which after held the sun and moon in fee.\"\n\nThe persecution which Latona experienced from Juno is alluded to\nin the story. The tradition was that the future mother of Apollo\nand Diana, flying from the wrath of Juno, besought all the islands\nof the Aegean to afford her a place of rest, but all feared too\nmuch the potent queen of heaven to assist her rival. Delos alone\nconsented to become the birthplace of the future deities. Delos\nwas then a floating island; but when Latona arrived there, Jupiter\nfastened it with adamantine chains to the bottom of the sea, that\nit might be a secure resting-place for his beloved. Byron alludes\nto Delos in his \"Don Juan\":\n\n    \"The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!\n       Where burning Sappho loved and sung,\n     Where grew the arts of war and peace,\n       Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung!\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nPHAETON\n\n\nPhaeton was the son of Apollo and the nymph Clymene. One day a\nschoolfellow laughed at the idea of his being the son of the god,\nand Phaeton went in rage and shame and reported it to his mother.\n\"If,\" said he, \"I am indeed of heavenly birth, give me, mother,\nsome proof of it, and establish my claim to the honor.\" Clymene\nstretched forth her hands towards the skies, and said, \"I call to\nwitness the Sun which looks down upon us, that I have told you the\ntruth. If I speak falsely, let this be the last time I behold his\nlight. But it needs not much labor to go and inquire for yourself;\nthe land whence the Sun rises lies next to ours. Go and demand of\nhim whether he will own you as a son.\" Phaeton heard with delight.\nHe travelled to India, which lies directly in the regions of\nsunrise; and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal whence\nhis parent begins his course.\n\nThe palace of the Sun stood reared aloft on columns, glittering\nwith gold and precious stones, while polished ivory formed the\nceilings, and silver the doors. The workmanship surpassed the\nmaterial; [Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.] for upon the\nwalls Vulcan had represented earth, sea, and skies, with their\ninhabitants. In the sea were the nymphs, some sporting in the\nwaves, some riding on the backs of fishes, while others sat upon\nthe rocks and dried their sea-green hair. Their faces were not all\nalike, nor yet unlike,--but such as sisters' ought to be.\n[Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.] The earth had its towns\nand forests and rivers and rustic divinities. Over all was carved\nthe likeness of the glorious heaven; and on the silver doors the\ntwelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side.\n\nClymene's son advanced up the steep ascent, and entered the halls\nof his disputed father. He approached the paternal presence, but\nstopped at a distance, for the light was more than he could bear.\nPhoebus, arrayed in a purple vesture, sat on a throne, which\nglittered as with diamonds. On his right hand and his left stood\nthe Day, the Month, and the Year, and, at regular intervals, the\nHours. Spring stood with her head crowned with flowers, and\nSummer, with garment cast aside, and a garland formed of spears of\nripened grain, and Autumn, with his feet stained with grape-juice,\nand icy Winter, with his hair stiffened with hoar frost.\nSurrounded by these attendants, the Sun, with the eye that sees\neverything, beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty and splendor\nof the scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand. The youth\nreplied, \"O light of the boundless world, Phoebus, my father,--if\nyou permit me to use that name,--give me some proof, I beseech\nyou, by which I may be known as yours.\" He ceased; and his father,\nlaying aside the beams that shone all around his head, bade him\napproach, and embracing him, said, \"My son, you deserve not to be\ndisowned, and I confirm what your mother has told you. To put an\nend to your doubts, ask what you will, the gift shall be yours. I\ncall to witness that dreadful lake, which I never saw, but which\nwe gods swear by in our most solemn engagements.\" Phaeton\nimmediately asked to be permitted for one day to drive the chariot\nof the sun. The father repented of his promise; thrice and four\ntimes he shook his radiant head in warning. \"I have spoken\nrashly,\" said he; \"this only request I would fain deny. I beg you\nto withdraw it. It is not a safe boon, nor one, my Phaeton, suited\nto your youth and strength. Your lot is mortal, and you ask what\nis beyond a mortal's power. In your ignorance you aspire to do\nthat which not even the gods themselves may do. None but myself\nmay drive the flaming car of day. Not even Jupiter, whose terrible\nright arm hurls the thunderbolts. The first part of the way is\nsteep, and such as the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly\nclimb; the middle is high up in the heavens, whence I myself can\nscarcely, without alarm, look down and behold the earth and sea\nstretched beneath me. The last part of the road descends rapidly,\nand requires most careful driving. Tethys, who is waiting to\nreceive me, often trembles for me lest I should fall headlong. Add\nto all this, the heaven is all the time turning round and carrying\nthe stars with it. I have to be perpetually on my guard lest that\nmovement, which sweeps everything else along, should hurry me also\naway. Suppose I should lend you the chariot, what would you do?\nCould you keep your course while the sphere was revolving under\nyou? Perhaps you think that there are forests and cities, the\nabodes of gods, and palaces and temples on the way. On the\ncontrary, the road is through the midst of frightful monsters. You\npass by the horns of the Bull, in front of the Archer, and near\nthe Lion's jaws, and where the Scorpion stretches its arms in one\ndirection and the Crab in another. Nor will you find it easy to\nguide those horses, with their breasts full of fire that they\nbreathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. I can scarcely\ngovern them myself, when they are unruly and resist the reins.\nBeware, my son, lest I be the donor of a fatal gift; recall your\nrequest while yet you may. Do you ask me for a proof that you are\nsprung from my blood? I give you a proof in my fears for you. Look\nat my face--I would that you could look into my breast, you would\nthere see all a father's anxiety. Finally,\" he continued, \"look\nround the world and choose whatever you will of what earth or sea\ncontains most precious--ask it and fear no refusal. This only I\npray you not to urge. It is not honor, but destruction you seek.\nWhy do you hang round my neck and still entreat me? You shall have\nit if you persist,--the oath is sworn and must be kept,--but I beg\nyou to choose more wisely.\"\n\nHe ended; but the youth rejected all admonition and held to his\ndemand. So, having resisted as long as he could, Phoebus at last\nled the way to where stood the lofty chariot.\n\nIt was of gold, the gift of Vulcan; the axle was of gold, the pole\nand wheels of gold, the spokes of silver. Along the seat were rows\nof chrysolites and diamonds which reflected all around the\nbrightness of the sun. While the daring youth, gazed in\nadmiration, the early Dawn threw open the purple doors of the\neast, and showed the pathway strewn with roses. The stars\nwithdrew, marshalled by the Day-star, which last of all retired\nalso. The father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow, and the\nMoon preparing to retire, ordered the Hours to harness up the\nhorses. They obeyed, and led forth from the lofty stalls the\nsteeds full fed with ambrosia, and attached the reins. Then the\nfather bathed the face of his son with a powerful unguent, and\nmade him capable of enduring the brightness of the flame. He set\nthe rays on his head, and, with a foreboding sigh, said, \"If, my\nson, you will in this at least heed my advice, spare the whip and\nhold tight the reins. They go fast enough of their own accord; the\nlabor is to hold them in. You are not to take the straight road\ndirectly between the five circles, but turn off to the left. Keep\nwithin the limit of the middle zone, and avoid the northern and\nthe southern alike. You will see the marks of the wheels, and they\nwill serve to guide you. And, that the skies and the earth may\neach receive their due share of heat, go not too high, or you will\nburn the heavenly dwellings, nor too low, or you will set the\nearth on fire; the middle course is safest and best. [Footnote:\nSee Proverbial Expressions] And now I leave you to your chance,\nwhich I hope will plan better for you than you have done for\nyourself. Night is passing out of the western gates and we can\ndelay no longer. Take the reins; but if at last your heart fails\nyou, and you will benefit by my advice, stay where you are in\nsafety, and suffer me to light and warm the earth.\" The agile\nyouth sprang into the chariot, stood erect, and grasped the reins\nwith delight, pouring out thanks to his reluctant parent.\n\nMeanwhile the horses fill the air with their snortings and fiery\nbreath, and stamp the ground impatient. Now the bars are let down,\nand the boundless plain of the universe lies open before them.\nThey dart forward and cleave the opposing clouds, and outrun the\nmorning breezes which started from the same eastern goal. The\nsteeds soon perceived that the load they drew was lighter than\nusual; and as a ship without ballast is tossed hither and thither\non the sea, so the chariot, without its accustomed weight, was\ndashed about as if empty. They rush headlong and leave the\ntravelled road. He is alarmed, and knows not how to guide them;\nnor, if he knew, has he the power. Then, for the first time, the\nGreat and Little Bear were scorched with heat, and would fain, if\nit were possible, have plunged into the water; and the Serpent\nwhich lies coiled up round the north pole, torpid and harmless,\ngrew warm, and with warmth felt its rage revive. Bootes, they say,\nfled away, though encumbered with his plough, and all unused to\nrapid motion.\n\nWhen hapless Phaeton looked down upon the earth, now spreading in\nvast extent beneath him, he grew pale and his knees shook with\nterror. In spite of the glare all around him, the sight of his\neyes grew dim. He wished he had never touched his father's horses,\nnever learned his parentage, never prevailed in his request. He is\nborne along like a vessel that flies before a tempest, when the\npilot can do no more and betakes himself to his prayers. What\nshall he do? Much of the heavenly road is left behind, but more\nremains before. He turns his eyes from one direction to the other;\nnow to the goal whence he began his course, now to the realms of\nsunset which he is not destined to reach. He loses his self-\ncommand, and knows not what to do,--whether to draw tight the\nreins or throw them loose; he forgets the names of the horses. He\nsees with terror the monstrous forms scattered over the surface of\nheaven. Here the Scorpion extended his two great arms, with his\ntail and crooked claws stretching over two signs of the zodiac.\nWhen the boy beheld him, reeking with poison and menacing with his\nfangs, his courage failed, and the reins fell from his hands. The\nhorses, when they felt them loose on their backs, dashed headlong,\nand unrestrained went off into unknown regions of the sky, in\namong the stars, hurling the chariot over pathless places, now up\nin high heaven, now down almost to the earth. The moon saw with\nastonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own. The\nclouds begin to smoke, and the mountain tops take fire; the fields\nare parched with heat, the plants wither, the trees with their\nleafy branches burn, the harvest is ablaze! But these are small\nthings. Great cities perished, with their walls and towers; whole\nnations with their people were consumed to ashes! The forest-clad\nmountains burned, Athos and Taurus and Tmolus and OEte; Ida, once\ncelebrated for fountains, but now all dry; the Muses' mountain\nHelicon, and Haemus; Aetna, with fires within and without, and\nParnassus, with his two peaks, and Rhodope, forced at last to part\nwith his snowy crown. Her cold climate was no protection to\nScythia, Caucasus burned, and Ossa and Pindus, and, greater than\nboth, Olympus; the Alps high in air, and the Apennines crowned\nwith clouds.\n\nThen Phaeton beheld the world on fire, and felt the heat\nintolerable. The air he breathed was like the air of a furnace and\nfull of burning ashes, and the smoke was of a pitchy darkness. He\ndashed forward he knew not whither. Then, it is believed, the\npeople of Aethiopia became black by the blood being forced so\nsuddenly to the surface, and the Libyan desert was dried up to the\ncondition in which it remains to this day. The Nymphs of the\nfountains, with dishevelled hair, mourned their waters, nor were\nthe rivers safe beneath their banks: Tanais smoked, and Caicus,\nXanthus, and Meander; Babylonian Euphrates and Ganges, Tagus with\ngolden sands, and Cayster where the swans resort. Nile fled away\nand hid his head in the desert, and there it still remains\nconcealed. Where he used to discharge his waters through seven\nmouths into the sea, there seven dry channels alone remained. The\nearth cracked open, and through the chinks light broke into\nTartarus, and frightened the king of shadows and his queen. The\nsea shrank up. Where before was water, it became a dry plain; and\nthe mountains that lie beneath the waves lifted up their heads and\nbecame islands. The fishes sought the lowest depths, and the\ndolphins no longer ventured as usual to sport on the surface. Even\nNereus, and his wife Doris, with the Nereids, their daughters,\nsought the deepest caves for refuge. Thrice Neptune essayed to\nraise his head above the surface, and thrice was driven back by\nthe heat. Earth, surrounded as she was by waters, yet with head\nand shoulders bare, screening her face with her hand, looked up to\nheaven, and with a husky voice called on Jupiter:\n\n\"O ruler of the gods, if I have deserved this treatment, and it is\nyour will that I perish with fire, why withhold your thunderbolts?\nLet me at least fall by your hand. Is this the reward of my\nfertility, of my obedient service? Is it for this that I have\nsupplied herbage for cattle, and fruits for men, and frankincense\nfor your altars? But if I am unworthy of regard, what has my\nbrother Ocean done to deserve such a fate? If neither of us can\nexcite your pity, think, I pray you, of your own heaven, and\nbehold how both the poles are smoking which sustain your palace,\nwhich must fall if they be destroyed. Atlas faints, and scarce\nholds up his burden. If sea, earth, and heaven perish, we fall\ninto ancient Chaos. Save what yet remains to us from the devouring\nflame. O, take thought for our deliverance in this awful moment!\"\n\nThus spoke Earth, and overcome with heat and thirst, could say no\nmore. Then Jupiter omnipotent, calling to witness all the gods,\nincluding him who had lent the chariot, and showing them that all\nwas lost unless speedy remedy were applied, mounted the lofty\ntower from whence he diffuses clouds over the earth, and hurls the\nforked lightnings. But at that time not a cloud was to be found to\ninterpose for a screen to earth, nor was a shower remaining\nunexhausted. He thundered, and brandishing a lightning bolt in his\nright hand launched it against the charioteer, and struck him at\nthe same moment from his seat and from existence! Phaeton, with\nhis hair on fire, fell headlong, like a shooting star which marks\nthe heavens with its brightness as it falls, and Eridanus, the\ngreat river, received him and cooled his burning frame. The\nItalian Naiads reared a tomb for him, and inscribed these words\nupon the stone:\n\n    \"Driver of Phoebus' chariot Phaeton,\n     Struck by Jove's thunder, rests beneath this stone.\n     He could not rule his father's car of fire,\n     Yet was it much so nobly to aspire\"\n\n[Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions]\n\nHis sisters, the Heliades, as they lamented his fate, were turned\ninto poplar trees, on the banks of the river, and their tears,\nwhich continued to flow, became amber as they dropped into the\nstream.\n\nMilman, in his poem of \"Samor,\" makes the following allusion to\nPhaeton's story:\n\n    \"As when the palsied universe aghast\n     Lay mute and still,\n     When drove, so poets sing, the Sun-born youth\n     Devious through Heaven's affrighted signs his sire's\n     Ill-granted chariot. Him the Thunderer hurled\n     From th' empyrean headlong to the gulf\n     Of the half-parched Eridanus, where weep\n     Even now the sister trees their amber tears\n     O'er Phaeton untimely dead\"\n\nIn the beautiful lines of Walter Savage Landor, descriptive of the\nSea-shell, there is an allusion to the Sun's palace and chariot.\nThe water-nymph says:\n\n    \"I have sinuous shells of pearly hue\n     Within, and things that lustre have imbibed\n     In the sun's palace porch, where when unyoked\n     His chariot wheel stands midway on the wave.\n     Shake one and it awakens; then apply\n     Its polished lip to your attentive ear,\n     And it remembers its august abodes,\n     And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there.\"\n\n    --Gebir, Book I.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nMIDAS--BAUCIS AND PHILEMON\n\n\nBacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and\nfoster-father, Silenus, missing. The old man had been drinking,\nand in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants,\nwho carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and\ntreated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights\nwith an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh day he brought\nSilenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon\nBacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might\nwish. He asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into\nGOLD. Bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a\nbetter choice. Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired\npower, which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce\nbelieve his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked\nfrom the branch, become gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it\nchanged to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took an\napple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the\ngarden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as\nhe got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on\nthe table. Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched\nbread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lips, it\ndefied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his\nthroat like melted gold.\n\nIn consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to\ndivest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately\ncoveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He\nraised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus,\nbegging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus,\nmerciful deity, heard and consented. \"Go,\" said he, \"to the River\nPactolus, trace the stream to its fountain-head, there plunge your\nhead and body in, and wash away your fault and its punishment.\" He\ndid so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the gold-\ncreating power passed into them, and the river-sands became\nchanged into GOLD, as they remain to this day.\n\nThenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the\ncountry, and became a worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields. On\na certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with\nthat of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of\nskill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain god,\nwas chosen umpire. The senior took his seat, and cleared away the\ntrees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew on his\npipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to\nhimself and his faithful follower Midas, who happened to be\npresent. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the Sun-god, and all\nhis trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with\nParnassian laurel, while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the\nground. In his left hand he held the lyre, and with his right hand\nstruck the strings. Ravished with the harmony, Tmolus at once\nawarded the victory to the god of the lyre, and all but Midas\nacquiesced in the judgment. He dissented, and questioned the\njustice of the award. Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair\nof ears any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to\nincrease in length, grow hairy, within and without, and movable on\ntheir roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an\nass.\n\nMortified enough was King Midas at this mishap; but he consoled\nhimself with the thought that it was possible to hide his\nmisfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban\nor head-dress. But his hair-dresser of course knew the secret. He\nwas charged not to mention it, and threatened with dire punishment\nif he presumed to disobey. But he found it too much for his\ndiscretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow,\ndug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story,\nand covered it up. Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in\nthe meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began\nwhispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to\nthis, every time a breeze passes over the place.\n\nThe story of King Midas has been told by others with some\nvariations. Dryden, in the \"Wife of Bath's Tale,\" makes Midas's\nqueen the betrayer of the secret:\n\n    \"This Midas knew, and durst communicate\n     To none but to his wife his ears of state.\"\n\nMidas was king of Phrygia. He was the son of Gordius, a poor\ncountryman, who was taken by the people and made king, in\nobedience to the command of the oracle, which had said that their\nfuture king should come in a wagon. While the people were\ndeliberating, Gordius with his wife and son came driving his wagon\ninto the public square.\n\nGordius, being made king, dedicated his wagon to the deity of the\noracle, and tied it up in its place with a fast knot. This was the\ncelebrated Gordian knot, which, in after times it was said,\nwhoever should untie should become lord of all Asia. Many tried to\nuntie it, but none succeeded, till Alexander the Great, in his\ncareer of conquest, came to Phrygia. He tried his skill with as\nill success as others, till growing impatient he drew his sword\nand cut the knot. When he afterwards succeeded in subjecting all\nAsia to his sway, people began to think that he had complied with\nthe terms of the oracle according to its true meaning.\n\nBAUCIS AND PHILEMON\n\nOn a certain hill in Phrygia stands a linden tree and an oak,\nenclosed by a low wall. Not far from the spot is a marsh, formerly\ngood habitable land, but now indented with pools, the resort of\nfen-birds and cormorants. Once on a time Jupiter, in, human shape,\nvisited this country, and with him his son Mercury (he of the\ncaduceus), without his wings. They presented themselves, as weary\ntravellers, at many a door, seeking rest and shelter, but found\nall closed, for it was late, and the inhospitable inhabitants\nwould not rouse themselves to open for their reception. At last a\nhumble mansion received them, a small thatched cottage, where\nBaucis, a pious old dame, and her husband Philemon, united when\nyoung, had grown old together. Not ashamed of their poverty, they\nmade it endurable by moderate desires and kind dispositions. One\nneed not look there for master or for servant; they two were the\nwhole household, master and servant alike. When the two heavenly\nguests crossed the humble threshold, and bowed their heads to pass\nunder the low door, the old man placed a seat, on which Baucis,\nbustling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them to sit\ndown. Then she raked out the coals from the ashes, and kindled up\na fire, fed it with leaves and dry bark, and with her scanty\nbreath blew it into a flame. She brought out of a corner split\nsticks and dry branches, broke them up, and placed them under the\nsmall kettle. Her husband collected some pot-herbs in the garden,\nand she shred them from the stalks, and prepared them for the pot.\nHe reached down with a forked stick a flitch of bacon hanging in\nthe chimney, cut a small piece, and put it in the pot to boil with\nthe herbs, setting away the rest for another time. A beechen bowl\nwas filled with warm water, that their guests might wash. While\nall was doing, they beguiled the time with conversation.\n\nOn the bench designed for the guests was laid a cushion stuffed\nwith sea-weed; and a cloth, only produced on great occasions, but\nancient and coarse enough, was spread over that. The old lady,\nwith her apron on, with trembling hand set the table. One leg was\nshorter than the rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the\nlevel. When fixed, she rubbed the table down with some sweet-\nsmelling herbs. Upon it she set some of chaste Minerva's olives,\nsome cornel berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and\ncheese, with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes. All were served in\nearthen dishes, and an earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups,\nstood beside them. When all was ready, the stew, smoking hot, was\nset on the table. Some wine, not of the oldest, was added; and for\ndessert, apples and wild honey; and over and above all, friendly\nfaces, and simple but hearty welcome.\n\nNow while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to\nsee that the wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in\nthe pitcher, of its own accord. Struck with terror, Baucis and\nPhilemon recognized their heavenly guests, fell on their knees,\nand with clasped hands implored forgiveness for their poor\nentertainment. There was an old goose, which they kept as the\nguardian of their humble cottage; and they bethought them to make\nthis a sacrifice in honor of their guests. But the goose, too\nnimble, with the aid of feet and wings, for the old folks, eluded\ntheir pursuit, and at last took shelter between the gods\nthemselves. They forbade it to be slain; and spoke in these words:\n\"We are gods. This inhospitable village shall pay the penalty of\nits impiety; you alone shall go free from the chastisement. Quit\nyour house, and come with us to the top of yonder hill.\" They\nhastened to obey, and, staff in hand, labored up the steep ascent.\nThey had reached to within an arrow's flight of the top, when\nturning their eyes below, they beheld all the country sunk in a\nlake, only their own house left standing. While they gazed with\nwonder at the sight, and lamented the fate of their neighbors,\nthat old house of theirs was changed into a temple. Columns took\nthe place of the corner posts, the thatch grew yellow and appeared\na gilded roof, the floors became marble, the doors were enriched\nwith carving and ornaments of gold. Then spoke Jupiter in\nbenignant accents: \"Excellent old man, and woman worthy of such a\nhusband, speak, tell us your wishes; what favor have you to ask of\nus?\" Philemon took counsel with Baucis a few moments; then\ndeclared to the gods their united wish. \"We ask to be priests and\nguardians of this your temple; and since here we have passed our\nlives in love and concord, we wish that one and the same hour may\ntake us both from life, that I may not live to see her grave, nor\nbe laid in my own by her.\" Their prayer was granted. They were the\nkeepers of the temple as long as they lived. When grown very old,\nas they stood one day before the steps of the sacred edifice, and\nwere telling the story of the place, Baucis saw Philemon begin to\nput forth leaves, and old Philemon saw Baucis changing in like\nmanner. And now a leafy crown had grown over their heads, while\nexchanging parting words, as long as they could speak. \"Farewell,\ndear spouse,\" they said, together, and at the same moment the bark\nclosed over their mouths. The Tyanean shepherd still shows the two\ntrees, standing side by side, made out of the two good old people.\n\nThe story of Baucis and Philemon has been imitated by Swift, in a\nburlesque style, the actors in the change being two wandering\nsaints, and the house being changed into a church, of which\nPhilemon is made the parson. The following may serve as a\nspecimen:\n\n    \"They scarce had spoke, when, fair and soft,\n     The roof began to mount aloft;\n     Aloft rose every beam and rafter;\n     The heavy wall climbed slowly after.\n     The chimney widened and grew higher,\n     Became a steeple with a spire.\n     The kettle to the top was hoist.\n     And there stood fastened to a joist,\n     But with the upside down, to show\n     Its inclination for below;\n     In vain, for a superior force,\n     Applied at bottom, stops its course;\n     Doomed ever in suspense to dwell,\n     'Tis now no kettle, but a bell.\n     A wooden jack, which had almost\n     Lost by disuse the art to roast,\n     A sudden alteration feels\n     Increased by new intestine wheels;\n     And, what exalts the wonder more.\n     The number made the motion slower;\n     The flier, though't had leaden feet,\n     Turned round so quick you scarce could see't;\n     But slackened by some secret power,\n     Now hardly moves an inch an hour.\n     The jack and chimney, near allied,\n     Had never left each other's side:\n     The chimney to a steeple grown,\n     The jack would not be left alone;\n     But up against the steeple reared,\n     Became a clock, and still adhered;\n     And still its love to household cares\n     By a shrill voice at noon declares,\n     Warning the cook-maid not to burn\n     That roast meat which it cannot turn;\n     The groaning chair began to crawl,\n     Like a huge snail, along the wall;\n     There stuck aloft in public view,\n     And with small change, a pulpit grew.\n     A bedstead of the antique mode,\n     Compact of timber many a load,\n     Such as our ancestors did use,\n     Was metamorphosed into pews,\n     Which still their ancient nature keep\n     By lodging folks disposed to sleep.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nPROSERPINE--GLAUCUS AND SCYLLA\n\n\nWhen Jupiter and his brothers had defeated the Titans and banished\nthem to Tartarus, a new enemy rose up against the gods. They were\nthe giants Typhon, Briareus, Enceladus, and others. Some of them\nhad a hundred arms, others breathed out fire. They were finally\nsubdued and buried alive under Mount Aetna, where they still\nsometimes struggle to get loose, and shake the whole island with\nearthquakes. Their breath comes up through the mountain, and is\nwhat men call the eruption of the volcano.\n\nThe fall of these monsters shook the earth, so that Pluto was\nalarmed, and feared that his kingdom would be laid open to the\nlight of day. Under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot,\ndrawn by black horses, and took a circuit of inspection to satisfy\nhimself of the extent of the damage. While he was thus engaged,\nVenus, who was sitting on Mount Eryx playing with her boy Cupid,\nespied him, and said, \"My son, take your darts with which you\nconquer all, even Jove himself, and send one into the breast of\nyonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of Tartarus. Why should\nhe alone escape? Seize the opportunity to extend your empire and\nmine. Do you not see that even in heaven some despise our power?\nMinerva the wise, and Diana the huntress, defy us; and there is\nthat daughter of Ceres, who threatens to follow their example. Now\ndo you, if you have any regard for your own interest or mine, join\nthese two in one.\" The boy unbound his quiver, and selected his\nsharpest and truest arrow; then straining the bow against his\nknee, he attached the string, and, having made ready, shot the\narrow with its barbed point right into the heart of Pluto.\n\nIn the vale of Enna there is a lake embowered in woods, which\nscreen it from the fervid rays of the sun, while the moist ground\nis covered with flowers, and Spring reigns perpetual. Here\nProserpine was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and\nviolets, and filling her basket and her apron with them, when\nPluto saw her, loved her, and carried her off. She screamed for\nhelp to her mother and companions; and when in her fright she\ndropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall,\nchildlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief.\nThe ravisher urged on his steeds, calling them each by name, and\nthrowing loose over their heads and necks his iron-colored reins.\nWhen he reached the River Cyane, and it opposed his passage, he\nstruck the river-bank with his trident, and the earth opened and\ngave him a passage to Tartarus.\n\nCeres sought her daughter all the world over. Bright-haired\nAurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus when he\nled out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the\nsearch. But it was all unavailing. At length, weary and sad, she\nsat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine days and nights,\nin the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling\nshowers. It was where now stands the city of Eleusis, then the\nhome of an old man named Celeus. He was out in the field,\ngathering acorns and blackberries, and sticks for his fire. His\nlittle girl was driving home their two goats, and as she passed\nthe goddess, who appeared in the guise of an old woman, she said\nto her, \"Mother,\"--and the name was sweet to the ears of Ceres,--\n\"why do you sit here alone upon the rocks?\" The old man also\nstopped, though his load was heavy, and begged her to come into\nhis cottage, such as it was. She declined, and he urged her. \"Go\nin peace,\" she replied, \"and be happy in your daughter; I have\nlost mine.\" As she spoke, tears--or something like tears, for the\ngods never weep--fell down her cheeks upon her bosom. The\ncompassionate old man and his child wept with her. Then said he,\n\"Come with us, and despise not our humble roof; so may your\ndaughter be restored to you in safety.\" \"Lead on,\" said she, \"I\ncannot resist that appeal!\" So she rose from the stone and went\nwith them. As they walked he told her that his only son, a little\nboy, lay very sick, feverish, and sleepless. She stooped and\ngathered some poppies. As they entered the cottage, they found all\nin great distress, for the boy seemed past hope of recovery.\nMetanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped\nand kissed the lips of the sick child. Instantly the paleness left\nhis face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. The whole family\nwere delighted--that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for\nthey were all; they had no servants. They spread the table, and\nput upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While\nthey ate, Ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When\nnight came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping\nboy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three\ntimes a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. His\nmother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang\nforward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. Then\nCeres assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all\naround. While they were overcome with astonishment, she said,\n\"Mother, you have been cruel in your fondness to your son. I would\nhave made him immortal, but you have frustrated my attempt.\nNevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the\nuse of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the\ncultivated soil.\" So saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and\nmounting her chariot rode away.\n\nCeres continued her search for her daughter, passing from land to\nland, and across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to\nSicily, whence she at first set out, and stood by the banks of the\nRiver Cyane, where Pluto made himself a passage with his prize to\nhis own dominions. The river nymph would have told the goddess all\nshe had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of Pluto; so she only\nventured to take up the girdle which Proserpine had dropped in her\nflight, and waft it to the feet of the mother. Ceres, seeing this,\nwas no longer in doubt of her loss, but she did not yet know the\ncause, and laid the blame on the innocent land. \"Ungrateful soil,\"\nsaid she, \"which I have endowed with fertility and clothed with\nherbage and nourishing grain, no more shall you enjoy my favors.\"\nThen the cattle died, the plough broke in the furrow, the seed\nfailed to come up; there was too much sun, there was too much\nrain; the birds stole the seeds--thistles and brambles were the\nonly growth. Seeing this, the fountain Arethusa interceded for the\nland. \"Goddess,\" said she, \"blame not the land; it opened\nunwillingly to yield a passage to your daughter. I can tell you of\nher fate, for I have seen her. This is not my native country; I\ncame hither from Elis. I was a woodland nymph, and delighted in\nthe chase. They praised my beauty, but I cared nothing for it, and\nrather boasted of my hunting exploits. One day I was returning\nfrom the wood, heated with exercise, when I came to a stream\nsilently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the\nbottom. The willows shaded it, and the grassy bank sloped down to\nthe water's edge. I approached, I touched the water with my foot.\nI stepped in knee-deep, and not content with that, I laid my\ngarments on the willows and went in. While I sported in the water,\nI heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the\nstream: and made haste to escape to the nearest bank. The voice\nsaid, 'Why do you fly, Arethusa? I am Alpheus, the god of this\nstream.' I ran, he pursued; he was not more swift than I, but he\nwas stronger, and gained upon me, as my strength failed. At last,\nexhausted, I cried for help to Diana. 'Help me, goddess! help your\nvotary!' The goddess heard, and wrapped me suddenly in a thick\ncloud. The river god looked now this way and now that, and twice\ncame close to me, but could not find me. 'Arethusa! Arethusa!' he\ncried. Oh, how I trembled,--like a lamb that hears the wolf\ngrowling outside the fold. A cold sweat came over me, my hair\nflowed down in streams; where my foot stood there was a pool. In\nshort, in less time than it takes to tell it I became a fountain.\nBut in this form Alpheus knew me and attempted to mingle his\nstream with mine. Diana cleft the ground, and I, endeavoring to\nescape him, plunged into the cavern, and through the bowels of the\nearth came out here in Sicily. While I passed through the lower\nparts of the earth, I saw your Proserpine. She was sad, but no\nlonger showing alarm in her countenance. Her look was such as\nbecame a queen--the queen of Erebus; the powerful bride of the\nmonarch of the realms of the dead.\"\n\nWhen Ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied;\nthen turned her chariot towards heaven, and hastened to present\nherself before the throne of Jove. She told the story of her\nbereavement, and implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the\nrestitution of her daughter. Jupiter consented on one condition,\nnamely, that Proserpine should not during her stay in the lower\nworld have taken any food; otherwise, the Fates forbade her\nrelease. Accordingly, Mercury was sent, accompanied by Spring, to\ndemand Proserpine of Pluto. The wily monarch consented; but, alas!\nthe maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her, and\nhad sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. This was enough\nto prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by\nwhich she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest\nwith her husband Pluto.\n\nCeres allowed herself to be pacified with this arrangement, and\nrestored the earth to her favor. Now she remembered Celeus and his\nfamily, and her promise to his infant son Triptolemus. When the\nboy grew up, she taught him the use of the plough, and how to sow\nthe seed. She took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons,\nthrough all the countries of the earth, imparting to mankind\nvaluable grains, and the knowledge of agriculture. After his\nreturn, Triptolemus built a magnificent temple to Ceres in\nEleusis, and established the worship of the goddess, under the\nname of the Eleusinian mysteries, which, in the splendor and\nsolemnity of their observance, surpassed all other religious\ncelebrations among the Greeks.\n\nThere can be little doubt of this story of Ceres and Proserpine\nbeing an allegory. Proserpine signifies the seed-corn which when\ncast into the ground lies there concealed--that is, she is carried\noff by the god of the underworld. It reappears--that is,\nProserpine is restored to her mother. Spring leads her back to the\nlight of day.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Proserpine in \"Paradise Lost,\" Book\nIV.:\n\n    \". . . Not that fair field\n     Of Enna where Proserpine gathering flowers,\n     Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis\n     Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain\n     To seek her through the world,--\n     ... might with this Paradise\n     Of Eden strive.\"\n\nHood, in his \"Ode to Melancholy,\" uses the same allusion very\nbeautifully:\n\n    \"Forgive, if somewhile I forget,\n       In woe to come the present bliss;\n     As frighted Proserpine let fall\n       Her flowers at the sight of Dis.\"\n\nThe River Alpheus does in fact disappear underground, in part of\nits course, finding its way through subterranean channels till it\nagain appears on the surface. It was said that the Sicilian\nfountain Arethusa was the same stream, which, after passing under\nthe sea, came up again in Sicily. Hence the story ran that a cup\nthrown into the Alpheus appeared again in Arethusa. It is this\nfable of the underground course of Alpheus that Coleridge alludes\nto in his poem of \"Kubla Khan\":\n\n    \"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan\n       A stately pleasure-dome decree,\n     Where Alph, the sacred river, ran\n     Through caverns measureless to man,\n       Down to a sunless sea.\"\n\nIn one of Moore's juvenile poems he thus alludes to the same\nstory, and to the practice of throwing garlands or other light\nobjects on his stream to be carried downward by it, and afterwards\nreproduced at its emerging:\n\n    \"O my beloved, how divinely sweet\n     Is the pure joy when kindred spirits meet!\n     Like him the river god, whose waters flow,\n     With love their only light, through caves below,\n     Wafting in triumph all the flowery braids\n     And festal rings, with which Olympic maids\n     Have decked his current, as an offering meet\n     To lay at Arethusa's shining feet.\n     Think, when he meets at last his fountain bride,\n     What perfect love must thrill the blended tide!\n     Each lost in each, till mingling into one,\n     Their lot the same for shadow or for sun,\n     A type of true love, to the deep they run.\"\n\nThe following extract from Moore's \"Rhymes on the Road\" gives an\naccount of a celebrated picture by Albano, at Milan, called a\nDance of Loves:\n\n    \"'Tis for the theft ef Enna's flower from earth\n     These urchins celebrate their dance of mirth,\n       Round the green tree, like fays upon a heath;--\n         Those that are nearest linked in order bright,\n       Cheek after cheek, like rosebuds in a wreath;\n       And those more distant showing from beneath\n         The others' wings their little eyes of light.\n       While see! among the clouds, their eldest brother,\n         But just flown up, tells with a smile of bliss,\n       This prank of Pluto to his charmed mother,\n         Who turns to greet the tidings with a kiss.\"\n\nGLAUCUS AND SCYLLA\n\nGlaucus was a fisherman. One day he had drawn his nets to land,\nand had taken a great many fishes of various kinds. So he emptied\nhis net, and proceeded to sort the fishes on the grass. The place\nwhere he stood was a beautiful island in the river, a solitary\nspot, uninhabited, and not used for pasturage of cattle, nor ever\nvisited by any but himself. On a sudden, the fishes, which had\nbeen laid on the grass, began to revive and move their fins as if\nthey were in the water; and while he looked on astonished, they\none and all moved off to the water, plunged in, and swam away. He\ndid not know what to make of this, whether some god had done it or\nsome secret power in the herbage. \"What herb has such a power?\" he\nexclaimed; and gathering some of it, he tasted it. Scarce had the\njuices of the plant reached his palate when he found himself\nagitated with a longing desire for the water. He could no longer\nrestrain himself, but bidding farewell to earth, he plunged into\nthe stream. The gods of the water received him graciously, and\nadmitted him to the honor of their society. They obtained the\nconsent of Oceanus and Tethys, the sovereigns of the sea, that all\nthat was mortal in him should be washed away. A hundred rivers\npoured their waters over him. Then he lost all sense of his former\nnature and all consciousness. When he recovered, he found himself\nchanged in form and mind. His hair was sea-green, and trailed\nbehind him on the water; his shoulders grew broad, and what had\nbeen thighs and legs assumed the form of a fish's tail. The sea-\ngods complimented him on the change of his appearance, and he\nfancied himself rather a good-looking personage.\n\nOne day Glaucus saw the beautiful maiden Scylla, the favorite of\nthe water-nymphs, rambling on the shore, and when she had found a\nsheltered nook, laving her limbs in the clear water. He fell in\nlove with her, and showing himself on the surface, spoke to her,\nsaying such things as he thought most likely to win her to stay;\nfor she turned to run immediately on the sight of him, and ran\ntill she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea. Here she stopped\nand turned round to see whether it was a god or a sea animal, and\nobserved with wonder his shape and color. Glaucus partly emerging\nfrom the water, and supporting himself against a rock, said,\n\"Maiden, I am no monster, nor a sea animal, but a god; and neither\nProteus nor Triton ranks higher than I. Once I was a mortal, and\nfollowed the sea for a living; but now I belong wholly to it.\"\nThen he told the story of his metamorphosis, and how he had been\npromoted to his present dignity, and added, \"But what avails all\nthis if it fails to move your heart?\" He was going on in this\nstrain, but Scylla turned and hastened away.\n\nGlaucus was in despair, but it occurred to him to consult the\nenchantress Circe. Accordingly he repaired to her island--the same\nwhere afterwards Ulysses landed, as we shall see in one of our\nlater stories. After mutual salutations, he said, \"Goddess, I\nentreat your pity; you alone can relieve the pain I suffer. The\npower of herbs I know as well as any one, for it is to them I owe\nmy change of form. I love Scylla. I am ashamed to tell you how I\nhave sued and promised to her, and how scornfully she has treated\nme. I beseech you to use your incantations, or potent herbs, if\nthey are more prevailing, not to cure me of my love,--for that I\ndo not wish,--but to make her share it and yield me a like\nreturn.\" To which Circe replied, for she was not insensible to the\nattractions of the sea-green deity, \"You had better pursue a\nwilling object; you are worthy to be sought, instead of having to\nseek in vain. Be not diffident, know your own worth. I protest to\nyou that even I, goddess though I be, and learned in the virtues\nof plants and spells, should not know how to refuse you. If she\nscorns you scorn her; meet one who is ready to meet you half way,\nand thus make a due return to both at once.\" To these words\nGlaucus replied, \"Sooner shall trees grow at the bottom of the\nocean, and sea-weed on the top of the mountains, than I will cease\nto love Scylla, and her alone.\"\n\nThe goddess was indignant, but she could not punish him, neither\ndid she wish to do so, for she liked him too well; so she turned\nall her wrath against her rival, poor Scylla. She took plants of\npoisonous powers and mixed them together, with incantations and\ncharms. Then she passed through the crowd of gambolling beasts,\nthe victims of her art, and proceeded to the coast of Sicily,\nwhere Scylla lived. There was a little bay on the shore to which\nScylla used to resort, in the heat of the day, to breathe the air\nof the sea, and to bathe in its waters. Here the goddess poured\nher poisonous mixture, and muttered over it incantations of mighty\npower. Scylla came as usual and plunged into the water up to her\nwaist. What was her horror to perceive a brood of serpents and\nbarking monsters surrounding her! At first she could not imagine\nthey were a part of herself, and tried to run from them, and to\ndrive them away; but as she ran she carried them with her, and\nwhen she tried to touch her limbs, she found her hands touch only\nthe yawning jaws of monsters. Scylla remained rooted to the spot.\nHer temper grew as ugly as her form, and she took pleasure in\ndevouring hapless mariners who came within her grasp. Thus she\ndestroyed six of the companions of Ulysses, and tried to wreck the\nships of Aeneas, till at last she was turned into a rock, and as\nsuch still continues to be a terror to mariners.\n\nKeats, in his \"Endymion,\" has given a new version of the ending of\n\"Glaucus and Scylla.\" Glaucus consents to Circe's blandishments,\ntill he by chance is witness to her transactions with her beasts.\nDisgusted with her treachery and cruelty, he tries to escape from\nher, but is taken and brought back, when with reproaches she\nbanishes him, sentencing him to pass a thousand years in\ndecrepitude and pain. He returns to the sea, and there finds the\nbody of Scylla, whom the goddess has not transformed but drowned.\nGlaucus learns that his destiny is that, if he passes his thousand\nyears in collecting all the bodies of drowned lovers, a youth\nbeloved of the gods will appear and help him. Endymion fulfils\nthis prophecy, and aids in restoring Glaucus to youth, and Scylla\nand all the drowned lovers to life.\n\nThe following is Glaucus's account of his feelings after his \"sea-\nchange\":\n\n    \"I plunged for life or death. To interknit\n     One's senses with so dense a breathing stuff\n     Might seem a work of pain; so not enough\n     Can I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,\n     And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt\n     Whole days and days in sheer astonishment;\n     Forgetful utterly of self-intent,\n     Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.\n     Then like a new-fledged bird that first doth show\n     His spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,\n     I tried in fear the pinions of my will.\n     'Twas freedom! and at once I visited\n     The ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed,\" etc.\n\n    --Keats.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nPYGMALION--DRYOPE-VENUS AND ADONIS--APOLLO AND HYACINTHUS\n\n\nPygmalion saw so much to blame in women that he came at last to\nabhor the sex, and resolved to live unmarried. He was a sculptor,\nand had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory, so beautiful\nthat no living woman came anywhere near it. It was indeed the\nperfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive, and only\nprevented from moving by modesty. His art was so perfect that it\nconcealed itself and its product looked like the workmanship of\nnature. Pygmalion admired his own work, and at last fell in love\nwith the counterfeit creation. Oftentimes he laid his hand upon it\nas if to assure himself whether it were living or not, and could\nnot even then believe that it was only ivory. He caressed it, and\ngave it presents such as young girls love,--bright shells and\npolished stones, little birds and flowers of various hues, beads\nand amber. He put raiment on its limbs, and jewels on its fingers,\nand a necklace about its neck. To the ears he hung earrings and\nstrings of pearls upon the breast. Her dress became her, and she\nlooked not less charming than when unattired. He laid her on a\ncouch spread with cloths of Tyrian dye, and called her his wife,\nand put her head upon a pillow of the softest feathers, as if she\ncould enjoy their softness.\n\nThe festival of Venus was at hand--a festival celebrated with\ngreat pomp at Cyprus. Victims were offered, the altars smoked, and\nthe odor of incense filled the air. When Pygmalion had performed\nhis part in the solemnities, he stood before the altar and timidly\nsaid, \"Ye gods, who can do all things, give me, I pray you, for my\nwife\"--he dared not say \"my ivory virgin,\" but said instead--\"one\nlike my ivory virgin.\" Venus, who was present at the festival,\nheard him and knew the thought he would have uttered; and as an\nomen of her favor, caused the flame on the altar to shoot up\nthrice in a fiery point into the air. When he returned home, he\nwent to see his statue, and leaning over the couch, gave a kiss to\nthe mouth. It seemed to be warm. He pressed its lips again, he\nlaid his hand upon the limbs; the ivory felt soft to his touch and\nyielded to his fingers like the wax of Hymettus. While he stands\nastonished and glad, though doubting, and fears he may be\nmistaken, again and again with a lover's ardor he touches the\nobject of his hopes. It was indeed alive! The veins when pressed\nyielded to the finger and again resumed their roundness. Then at\nlast the votary of Venus found words to thank the goddess, and\npressed his lips upon lips as real as his own. The virgin felt the\nkisses and blushed, and opening her timid eyes to the light, fixed\nthem at the same moment on her lover. Venus blessed the nuptials\nshe had formed, and from this union Paphos was born, from whom the\ncity, sacred to Venus, received its name.\n\nSchiller, in his poem the \"Ideals,\" applies this tale of Pygmalion\nto the love of nature in a youthful heart. The following\ntranslation is furnished by a friend:\n\n    \"As once with prayers in passion flowing,\n       Pygmalion embraced the stone,\n     Till from the frozen marble glowing,\n       The light of feeling o'er him shone,\n     So did I clasp with young devotion\n       Bright nature to a poet's heart;\n     Till breath and warmth and vital motion\n       Seemed through the statue form to dart.\n\n    \"And then, in all my ardor sharing,\n       The silent form expression found;\n     Returned my kiss of youthful daring,\n       And understood my heart's quick sound.\n     Then lived for me the bright creation,\n       The silver rill with song was rife;\n     The trees, the roses shared sensation,\n       An echo of my boundless life.\"\n\n    --S. G. B.\n\nDRYOPE\n\nDryope and Iole were sisters. The former was the wife of\nAndraemon, beloved by her husband, and happy in the birth of her\nfirst child. One day the sisters strolled to the bank of a stream\nthat sloped gradually down to the water's edge, while the upland\nwas overgrown with myrtles. They were intending to gather flowers\nfor forming garlands for the altars of the nymphs, and Dryope\ncarried her child at her bosom, precious burden, and nursed him as\nshe walked. Near the water grew a lotus plant, full of purple\nflowers. Dryope gathered some and offered them to the baby, and\nIole was about to do the same, when she perceived blood dropping\nfrom the places where her sister had broken them off the stem. The\nplant was no other than the nymph Lotis, who, running from a base\npursuer, had been changed into this form. This they learned from\nthe country people when it was too late.\n\nDryope, horror-struck when she perceived what she had done, would\ngladly have hastened from the spot, but found her feet rooted to\nthe ground. She tried to pull them away, but moved nothing but her\nupper limbs. The woodiness crept upward, and by degrees invested\nher body. In anguish she attempted to tear her hair, but found her\nhands filled with leaves. The infant felt his mother's bosom begin\nto harden, and the milk cease to flow. Iole looked on at the sad\nfate of her sister, and could render no assistance. She embraced\nthe growing trunk, as if she would hold back the advancing wood,\nand would gladly have been enveloped in the same bark. At this\nmoment Andraemon, the husband of Dryope, with her father,\napproached; and when they asked for Dryope, Iole pointed them to\nthe new-formed lotus. They embraced the trunk of the yet warm\ntree, and showered their kisses on its leaves.\n\nNow there was nothing left of Dryope but her face. Her tears still\nflowed and fell on her leaves, and while she could she spoke. \"I\nam not guilty. I deserve not this fate. I have injured no one. If\nI speak falsely, may my foliage perish with drought and my trunk\nbe cut down and burned. Take this infant and give it to a nurse.\nLet it often be brought and nursed under my branches, and play in\nmy shade; and when he is old enough to talk, let him be taught to\ncall me mother, and to say with sadness, 'My mother lies hid under\nthis bark.' But bid him be careful of river banks, and beware how\nhe plucks flowers, remembering that every bush he sees may be a\ngoddess in disguise. Farewell, dear husband, and sister, and\nfather. If you retain any love for me, let not the axe wound me,\nnor the flocks bite and tear my branches. Since I cannot stoop to\nyou, climb up hither and kiss me; and while my lips continue to\nfeel, lift up my child that I may kiss him. I can speak no more,\nfor already the bark advances up my neck, and will soon shoot over\nme. You need not close my eyes, the bark will close them without\nyour aid.\" Then the lips ceased to move, and life was extinct; but\nthe branches retained for some time longer the vital heat.\n\nKeats, in \"Endymion,\" alludes to Dryope thus:\n\n    \"She took a lute from which there pulsing came\n     A lively prelude, fashioning the way\n     In which her voice should wander. 'T was a lay\n     More subtle-cadenced, more forest-wild\n     Than Dryope's lone lulling of her child;\" etc.\n\nVENUS AND ADONIS\n\nVenus, playing one day with her boy Cupid, wounded her bosom with\none of his arrows. She pushed him away, but the wound was deeper\nthan she thought. Before it healed she beheld Adonis, and was\ncaptivated with him. She no longer took any interest in her\nfavorite resorts--Paphos, and Cnidos, and Amathos, rich in metals.\nShe absented herself even from heaven, for Adonis was dearer to\nher than heaven. Him she followed and bore him company. She who\nused to love to recline in the shade, with no care but to\ncultivate her charms, now rambles through the woods and over the\nhills, dressed like the huntress Diana; and calls her dogs, and\nchases hares and stags, or other game that it is safe to hunt, but\nkeeps clear of the wolves and bears, reeking with the slaughter of\nthe herd. She charged Adonis, too, to beware of such dangerous\nanimals. \"Be brave towards the timid,\" said she; \"courage against\nthe courageous is not safe. Beware how you expose yourself to\ndanger and put my happiness to risk. Attack not the beasts that\nNature has armed with weapons. I do not value your glory so high\nas to consent to purchase it by such exposure. Your youth, and the\nbeauty that charms Venus, will not touch the hearts of lions and\nbristly boars. Think of their terrible claws and prodigious\nstrength! I hate the whole race of them. Do you ask me why?\" Then\nshe told him the story of Atalanta and Hippomenes, who were\nchanged into lions for their ingratitude to her.\n\nHaving given him this warning, she mounted her chariot drawn by\nswans, and drove away through the air. But Adonis was too noble to\nheed such counsels. The dogs had roused a wild boar from his lair,\nand the youth threw his spear and wounded the animal with a\nsidelong stroke. The beast drew out the weapon with his jaws, and\nrushed after Adonis, who turned and ran; but the boar overtook\nhim, and buried his tusks in his side, and stretched him dying\nupon the plain.\n\nVenus, in her swan-drawn chariot, had not yet reached Cyprus, when\nshe heard coming up through mid-air the groans of her beloved,\nand turned her white-winged coursers back to earth. As she drew\nnear and saw from on high his lifeless body bathed in blood, she\nalighted and, bending over it, beat her breast and tore her hair.\nReproaching the Fates, she said, \"Yet theirs shall be but a\npartial triumph; memorials of my grief shall endure, and the\nspectacle of your death, my Adonis, and of my lamentations shall\nbe annually renewed. Your blood shall be changed into a flower;\nthat consolation none can envy me.\" Thus speaking, she sprinkled\nnectar on the blood; and as they mingled, bubbles rose as in a\npool on which raindrops fall, and in an hour's time there sprang\nup a flower of bloody hue like that of the pomegranate. But it is\nshort-lived. It is said the wind blows the blossoms open, and\nafterwards blows the petals away; so it is called Anemone, or Wind\nFlower, from the cause which assists equally in its production and\nits decay.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Venus and Adonis in his \"Comus\":\n\n    \"Beds of hyacinth and roses\n     Where young Adonis oft reposes,\n     Waxing well of his deep wound\n     In slumber soft, and on the ground\n     Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen;\" etc.\n\nAPOLLO AND HYACINTHUS\n\nApollo was passionately fond of a youth named Hyacinthus. He\naccompanied him in his sports, carried the nets when he went\nfishing, led the dogs when he went to hunt, followed him in his\nexcursions in the mountains, and neglected for him his lyre and\nhis arrows. One day they played a game of quoits together, and\nApollo, heaving aloft the discus, with strength mingled with\nskill, sent it high and far. Hyacinthus watched it as it flew, and\nexcited with the sport ran forward to seize it, eager to make his\nthrow, when the quoit bounded from the earth and struck him in the\nforehead. He fainted and fell. The god, as pale as himself, raised\nhim and tried all his art to stanch the wound and retain the\nflitting life, but all in vain; the hurt was past the power of\nmedicine. As when one has broken the stem of a lily in the garden\nit hangs its head and turns its flowers to the earth, so the head\nof the dying boy, as if too heavy for his neck, fell over on his\nshoulder. \"Thou diest, Hyacinth,\" so spoke Phoebus, \"robbed of thy\nyouth by me. Thine is the suffering, mine the crime. Would that I\ncould die for thee! But since that may not be, thou shalt live\nwith me in memory and in song. My lyre shall celebrate thee, my\nsong shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed\nwith my regrets.\" While Apollo spoke, behold the blood which had\nflowed on the ground and stained the herbage ceased to be blood;\nbut a flower of hue more beautiful than the Tyrian sprang up,\nresembling the lily, if it were not that this is purple and that\nsilvery white. [Footnote: It is evidently not our modern hyacinth\nthat is here described. It is perhaps some species of iris, or\nperhaps of larkspur or of pansy.] And this was not enough for\nPhoebus; but to confer still greater honor, he marked the petals\nwith his sorrow, and inscribed \"Ah! ah!\" upon them, as we see to\nthis day. The flower bears the name of Hyacinthus, and with every\nreturning spring revives the memory of his fate.\n\nIt was said that Zephyrus (the West wind), who was also fond of\nHyacinthus and jealous of his preference of Apollo, blew the quoit\nout of its course to make it strike Hyacinthus. Keats alludes to\nthis in his \"Endymion,\" where he describes the lookers-on at the\ngame of quoits:\n\n    \"Or they might watch the quoit-pitchers, intent\n       On either side, pitying the sad death\n       Of Hyacinthus, when the cruel breath\n     Of Zephyr slew him; Zephyr penitent,\n     Who now ere Phoebus mounts the firmament,\n       Fondles the flower amid the sobbing rain.\"\n\nAn allusion to Hyacinthus will also be recognized in Milton's\n\"Lycidas\":\n\n    \"Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nCEYX AND HALCYONE: OR, THE HALCYON BIRDS\n\n\nCeyx was king of Thessaly, where he reigned in peace, without\nviolence or wrong. He was son of Hesperus, the Day-star, and the\nglow of his beauty reminded one of his father. Halcyone, the\ndaughter of Aeolus, was his wife, and devotedly attached to him.\nNow Ceyx was in deep affliction for the loss of his brother, and\ndireful prodigies following his brother's death made him feel as\nif the gods were hostile to him. He thought best, therefore, to\nmake a voyage to Carlos in Ionia, to consult the oracle of Apollo.\nBut as soon as he disclosed his intention to his wife Halcyone, a\nshudder ran through her frame, and her face grew deadly pale.\n\"What fault of mine, dearest husband, has turned your affection\nfrom me? Where is that love of me that used to be uppermost in\nyour thoughts? Have you learned to feel easy in the absence of\nHalcyone? Would you rather have me away?\" She also endeavored to\ndiscourage him, by describing the violence of the winds, which she\nhad known familiarly when she lived at home in her father's\nhouse,--Aeolus being the god of the winds, and having as much as\nhe could do to restrain them. \"They rush together,\" said she,\n\"with such fury that fire flashes from the conflict. But if you\nmust go,\" she added, \"dear husband, let me go with you, otherwise\nI shall suffer not only the real evils which you must encounter,\nbut those also which my fears suggest.\"\n\nThese words weighed heavily on the mind of King Ceyx, and it was\nno less his own wish than hers to take her with him, but he could\nnot bear to expose her to the dangers of the sea. He answered,\ntherefore, consoling her as well as he could, and finished with\nthese words: \"I promise, by the rays of my father the Day-star,\nthat if fate permits I will return before the moon shall have\ntwice rounded her orb.\" When he had thus spoken, he ordered the\nvessel to be drawn out of the shiphouse, and the oars and sails to\nbe put aboard. When Halcyone saw these preparations she shuddered,\nas if with a presentiment of evil. With tears and sobs she said\nfarewell, and then fell senseless to the ground.\n\nCeyx would still have lingered, but now the young men grasped\ntheir oars and pulled vigorously through the waves, with long and\nmeasured strokes. Halcyone raised her streaming eyes, and saw her\nhusband standing on the deck, waving his hand to her. She answered\nhis signal till the vessel had receded so far that she could no\nlonger distinguish his form from the rest. When the vessel itself\ncould no more be seen, she strained her eyes to catch the last\nglimmer of the sail, till that too disappeared. Then, retiring to\nher chamber, she threw herself on her solitary couch.\n\nMeanwhile they glide out of the harbor, and the breeze plays among\nthe ropes. The seamen draw in their oars, and hoist their sails.\nWhen half or less of their course was passed, as night drew on,\nthe sea began to whiten with swelling waves, and the east wind to\nblow a gale. The master gave the word to take in sail, but the\nstorm forbade obedience, for such is the roar of the winds and\nwaves his orders are unheard. The men, of their own accord, busy\nthemselves to secure the oars, to strengthen the ship, to reef the\nsail. While they thus do what to each one seems best, the storm\nincreases. The shouting of the men, the rattling of the shrouds,\nand the dashing of the waves, mingle with the roar of the thunder.\nThe swelling sea seems lifted up to the heavens, to scatter its\nfoam among the clouds; then sinking away to the bottom assumes the\ncolor of the shoal--a Stygian blackness.\n\nThe vessel shares all these changes. It seems like a wild beast\nthat rushes on the spears of the hunters. Rain falls in torrents,\nas if the skies were coming down to unite with the sea. When the\nlightning ceases for a moment, the night seems to add its own\ndarkness to that of the storm; then comes the flash, rending the\ndarkness asunder, and lighting up all with a glare. Skill fails,\ncourage sinks, and death seems to come on every wave. The men are\nstupefied with terror. The thought of parents, and kindred, and\npledges left at home, comes over their minds. Ceyx thinks of\nHalcyone. No name but hers is on his lips, and while he yearns for\nher, he yet rejoices in her absence. Presently the mast is\nshattered by a stroke of lightning, the rudder broken, and the\ntriumphant surge curling over looks down upon, the wreck, then\nfalls, and crushes it to fragments. Some of the seamen, stunned by\nthe stroke, sink, and rise no more; others cling to fragments of\nthe wreck. Ceyx, with the hand that used to grasp the sceptre,\nholds fast to a plank, calling for help,--alas, in vain,--upon his\nfather and his father-in-law. But oftenest on his lips was the\nname of Halcyone. To her his thoughts cling. He prays that the\nwaves may bear his body to her sight, and that it may receive\nburial at her hands. At length the waters overwhelm him, and he\nsinks. The Day-star looked dim that night. Since it could not\nleave the heavens, it shrouded its face with clouds.\n\nIn the meanwhile Halcyone, ignorant of all these horrors, counted\nthe days till her husband's promised return. Now she gets ready\nthe garments which he shall put on, and now what she shall wear\nwhen he arrives. To all the gods she offers frequent incense, but\nmore than all to Juno. For her husband, who was no more, she\nprayed incessantly: that he might be safe; that he might come\nhome; that he might not, in his absence, see any one that he would\nlove better than her. But of all these prayers, the last was the\nonly one destined to be granted. The goddess, at length, could not\nbear any longer to be pleaded with for one already dead, and to\nhave hands raised to her altars that ought rather to be offering\nfuneral rites. So, calling Iris, she said, \"Iris, my faithful\nmessenger, go to the drowsy dwelling of Somnus, and tell him to\nsend a vision to Halcyone in the form of Ceyx, to make known to\nher the event.\"\n\nIris puts on her robe of many colors, and tingeing the sky with\nher bow, seeks the palace of the King of Sleep. Near the Cimmerian\ncountry, a mountain cave is the abode of the dull god Somnus. Here\nPhoebus dares not come, either rising, at midday, or setting.\nClouds and shadows are exhaled from the ground, and the light\nglimmers faintly. The bird of dawning, with crested head, never\nthere calls aloud to Aurora, nor watchful dog, nor more sagacious\ngoose disturbs the silence. No wild beast, nor cattle, nor branch\nmoved with the wind, nor sound of human conversation, breaks the\nstillness. Silence reigns there; but from the bottom of the rock\nthe River Lethe flows, and by its murmur invites to sleep. Poppies\ngrow abundantly before the door of the cave, and other herbs, from\nwhose juices Night collects slumbers, which she scatters over the\ndarkened earth. There is no gate to the mansion, to creak on its\nhinges, nor any watchman; but in the midst a couch of black ebony,\nadorned with black plumes and black curtains. There the god\nreclines, his limbs relaxed with sleep. Around him lie dreams,\nresembling all various forms, as many as the harvest bears stalks,\nor the forest leaves, or the seashore sand grains.\n\nAs soon as the goddess entered and brushed away the dreams that\nhovered around her, her brightness lit up all the cave. The god,\nscarce opening his eyes, and ever and anon dropping his beard upon\nhis breast, at last shook himself free from himself, and leaning\non his arm, inquired her errand,--for he knew who she was. She\nanswered, \"Somnus, gentlest of the gods, tranquillizer of minds\nand soother of care-worn hearts, Juno sends you her commands that\nyou despatch a dream to Halcyone, in the city of Trachine,\nrepresenting her lost husband and all the events of the wreck.\"\n\nHaving delivered her message, Iris hasted away, for she could not\nlonger endure the stagnant air, and as she felt drowsiness\ncreeping over her, she made her escape, and returned by her bow\nthe way she came. Then Somnus called one of his numerous sons,--\nMorpheus,--the most expert in counterfeiting forms, and in\nimitating the walk, the countenance, and mode of speaking, even\nthe clothes and attitudes most characteristic of each. But he only\nimitates men, leaving it to another to personate birds, beasts,\nand serpents. Him they call Icelos; and Phantasos is a third, who\nturns himself into rocks, waters, woods, and other things without\nlife. These wait upon kings and great personages in their sleeping\nhours, while others move among the common people. Somnus chose,\nfrom all the brothers, Morpheus, to perform the command of Iris;\nthen laid his head on his pillow and yielded himself to grateful\nrepose.\n\nMorpheus flew, making no noise with his wings, and soon came to\nthe Haemonian city, where, laying aside his wings, he assumed the\nform of Ceyx. Under that form, but pale like a dead man, naked, he\nstood before the couch of the wretched wife. His beard seemed\nsoaked with water, and water trickled from his drowned locks.\nLeaning over the bed, tears streaming from his eyes, he said, \"Do\nyou recognize your Ceyx, unhappy wife, or has death too much\nchanged my visage? Behold me, know me, your husband's shade,\ninstead of himself. Your prayers, Halcyone, availed me nothing. I\nam dead. No more deceive yourself with vain hopes of my return.\nThe stormy winds sunk my ship in the Aegean Sea, waves filled my\nmouth while it called aloud on you. No uncertain messenger tells\nyou this, no vague rumor brings it to your ears. I come in person,\na shipwrecked man, to tell you my fate. Arise! give me tears, give\nme lamentations, let me not go down to Tartarus unwept.\" To these\nwords Morpheus added the voice, which seemed to be that of her\nhusband; he seemed to pour forth genuine tears; his hands had the\ngestures of Ceyx.\n\nHalcyone, weeping, groaned, and stretched out her arms in her\nsleep, striving to embrace his body, but grasping only the air.\n\"Stay!\" she cried; \"whither do you fly? let us go together.\" Her\nown voice awakened her. Starting up, she gazed eagerly around, to\nsee if he was still present, for the servants, alarmed by her\ncries, had brought a light. When she found him not, she smote her\nbreast and rent her garments. She cares not to unbind her hair,\nbut tears it wildly. Her nurse asks what is the cause of her\ngrief. \"Halcyone is no more,\" she answers, \"she perished with her\nCeyx. Utter not words of comfort, he is shipwrecked and dead. I\nhave seen him, I have recognized him. I stretched out my hands to\nseize him and detain him. His shade vanished, but it was the true\nshade of my husband. Not with the accustomed features, not with\nthe beauty that was his, but pale, naked, and with his hair wet\nwith sea-water, he appeared to wretched me. Here, in this very\nspot, the sad vision stood,\"--and she looked to find the mark of\nhis footsteps. \"This it was, this that my presaging mind\nforeboded, when I implored him not to leave me, to trust himself\nto the waves. Oh, how I wish, since thou wouldst go, thou hadst\ntaken me with thee! It would have been far better. Then I should\nhave had no remnant of life to spend without thee, nor a separate\ndeath to die. If I could bear to live and struggle to endure, I\nshould be more cruel to myself than the sea has been to me. But I\nwill not struggle, I will not be separated from thee, unhappy\nhusband. This time, at least, I will keep thee company. In death,\nif one tomb may not include us, one epitaph shall; if I may not\nlay my ashes with thine, my name, at least, shall not be\nseparated.\" Her grief forbade more words, and these were broken\nwith tears and sobs.\n\nIt was now morning. She went to the seashore, and sought the spot\nwhere she last saw him, on his departure. \"While he lingered here,\nand cast off his tacklings, he gave me his last kiss.\" While she\nreviews every object, and strives to recall every incident,\nlooking out over the sea, she descries an indistinct object\nfloating in the water. At first she was in doubt what it was, but\nby degrees the waves bore it nearer, and it was plainly the body\nof a man. Though unknowing of whom, yet, as it was of some\nshipwrecked one, she was deeply moved, and gave it her tears,\nsaying, \"Alas! unhappy one, and unhappy, if such there be, thy\nwife!\" Borne by the waves, it came nearer. As she more and more\nnearly views it, she trembles more and more. Now, now it\napproaches the shore. Now marks that she recognizes appear. It is\nher husband! Stretching out her trembling hands towards it, she\nexclaims, \"O dearest husband, is it thus you return to me?\"\n\nThere was built out from the shore a mole, constructed to break\nthe assaults of the sea, and stem its violent ingress. She leaped\nupon this barrier and (it was wonderful she could do so) she flew,\nand striking the air with wings produced on the instant, skimmed\nalong the surface of the water, an unhappy bird. As she flew, her\nthroat poured forth sounds full of grief, and like the voice of\none lamenting. When she touched the mute and bloodless body, she\nenfolded its beloved limbs with her new-formed wings, and tried to\ngive kisses with her horny beak. Whether Ceyx felt it, or whether\nit was only the action of the waves, those who looked on doubted,\nbut the body seemed to raise its head. But indeed he did feel it,\nand by the pitying gods both of them were changed into birds. They\nmate and have their young ones. For seven placid days, in winter\ntime, Halcyone broods over her nest, which floats upon the sea.\nThen the way is safe to seamen. Aeolus guards the winds and keeps\nthem from disturbing the deep. The sea is given up, for the time,\nto his grandchildren.\n\nThe following lines from Byron's \"Bride of Abydos\" might seem\nborrowed from the concluding part of this description, if it were\nnot stated that the author derived the suggestion from observing\nthe motion of a floating corpse:\n\n    \"As shaken on his restless pillow,\n     His head heaves with the heaving billow,\n     That hand, whose motion is not life,\n     Yet feebly seems to menace strife,\n     Flung by the tossing tide on high,\n     Then levelled with the wave ...\"\n\nMilton in his \"Hymn on the Nativity,\" thus alludes to the fable of\nthe Halcyon:\n\n    \"But peaceful was the night\n     Wherein the Prince of light\n       His reign of peace upon the earth began;\n     The winds with wonder whist\n     Smoothly the waters kist\n       Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,\n     Who now hath quite forgot to rave\n     While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.\"\n\nKeats, also, in \"Endymion,\" says:\n\n    \"O magic sleep! O comfortable bird\n     That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind\n     Till it is hushed and smooth.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nVERTUMNUS AND POMONA\n\n\nThe Hamadryads were Wood-nymphs. Pomona was of this class, and no\none excelled her in love of the garden and the culture of fruit.\nShe cared not for forests and rivers, but loved the cultivated\ncountry, and trees that bear delicious apples. Her right hand bore\nfor its weapon not a javelin, but a pruning-knife. Armed with\nthis, she busied herself at one time to repress the too luxuriant\ngrowths, and curtail the branches that straggled out of place; at\nanother, to split the twig and insert therein a graft, making the\nbranch adopt a nursling not its own. She took care, too, that her\nfavorites should not suffer from drought, and led streams of water\nby them, that the thirsty roots might drink. This occupation was\nher pursuit, her passion; and she was free from that which Venus\ninspires. She was not without fear of the country people, and kept\nher orchard locked, and allowed not men to enter. The Fauns and\nSatyrs would have given all they possessed to win her, and so\nwould old Sylvanus, who looks young for his years, and Pan, who\nwears a garland of pine leaves around his head. But Vertumnus\nloved her best of all; yet he sped no better than the rest. O how\noften, in the disguise of a reaper, did he bring her corn in a\nbasket, and looked the very image of a reaper! With a hay band\ntied round him, one would think he had just come from turning over\nthe grass. Sometimes he would have an ox-goad in his hand, and you\nwould have said he had just unyoked his weary oxen. Now he bore a\npruning-hook, and personated a vine-dresser; and again, with a\nladder on his shoulder, he seemed as if he was going to gather\napples. Sometimes he trudged along as a discharged soldier, and\nagain he bore a fishing-rod, as if going to fish. In this way he\ngained admission to her again and again, and fed his passion with\nthe sight of her.\n\nOne day he came in the guise of an old woman, her gray hair\nsurmounted with a cap, and a staff in her hand. She entered the\ngarden and admired the fruit. \"It does you credit, my dear,\" she\nsaid, and kissed her, not exactly with an old woman's kiss. She\nsat down on a bank, and looked up at the branches laden with fruit\nwhich hung over her. Opposite was an elm entwined with a vine\nloaded with swelling grapes. She praised the tree and its\nassociated vine, equally. \"But,\" said she, \"if the tree stood\nalone, and had no vine clinging to it, it would have nothing to\nattract or offer us but its useless leaves. And equally the vine,\nif it were not twined round the elm, would lie prostrate on the\nground. Why will you not take a lesson from the tree and the vine,\nand consent to unite yourself with some one? I wish you would.\nHelen herself had not more numerous suitors, nor Penelope, the\nwife of shrewd Ulysses. Even while you spurn them, they court\nyou,--rural deities and others of every kind that frequent these\nmountains. But if you are prudent and want to make a good\nalliance, and will let an old woman advise you,--who loves you\nbetter than you have any idea of,--dismiss all the rest and\naccept Vertumnus, on my recommendation. I know him as well as he\nknows himself. He is not a wandering deity, but belongs to these\nmountains. Nor is he like too many of the lovers nowadays, who\nlove any one they happen to see; he loves you, and you only. Add\nto this, he is young and handsome, and has the art of assuming any\nshape he pleases, and can make himself just what you command him.\nMoreover, he loves the same things that you do, delights in\ngardening, and handles your apples with admiration. But NOW he\ncares nothing for fruits nor flowers, nor anything else, but only\nyourself. Take pity on him, and fancy him speaking now with my\nmouth. Remember that the gods punish cruelty, and that Venus hates\na hard heart, and will visit such offences sooner or later. To\nprove this, let me tell you a story, which is well known in Cyprus\nto be a fact; and I hope it will have the effect to make you more\nmerciful.\n\n\"Iphis was a young man of humble parentage, who saw and loved\nAnaxarete, a noble lady of the ancient family of Teucer. He\nstruggled long with his passion, but when he found he could not\nsubdue it, he came a suppliant to her mansion. First he told his\npassion to her nurse, and begged her as she loved her foster-child\nto favor his suit. And then he tried to win her domestics to his\nside. Sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets, and\noften hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with his\ntears. He stretched himself on her threshold, and uttered his\ncomplaints to the cruel bolts and bars. She was deafer than the\nsurges which rise in the November gale; harder than steel from the\nGerman forges, or a rock that still clings to its native cliff.\nShe mocked and laughed at him, adding cruel words to her ungentle\ntreatment, and gave not the slightest gleam of hope.\n\n\"Iphis could not any longer endure the torments of hopeless love,\nand, standing before her doors, he spake these last words:\n'Anaxarete, you have conquered, and shall no longer have to bear\nmy importunities. Enjoy your triumph! Sing songs of joy, and bind\nyour forehead with laurel,--you have conquered! I die; stony\nheart, rejoice! This at least I can do to gratify you and force\nyou to praise me; and thus shall I prove that the love of you left\nme but with life. Nor will I leave it to rumor to tell you of my\ndeath. I will come myself, and you shall see me die, and feast\nyour eyes on the spectacle. Yet, O ye gods, who look down on\nmortal woes, observe my fate! I ask but this: let me be remembered\nin coming ages, and add those years to my fame which you have reft\nfrom my life. Thus he said, and, turning his pale face and weeping\neyes towards her mansion, he fastened a rope to the gatepost, on\nwhich he had often hung garlands, and putting his head into the\nnoose, he murmured, 'This garland at least will please you, cruel\ngirl!' and falling hung suspended with his neck broken. As he fell\nhe struck against the gate, and the sound was as the sound of a\ngroan. The servants opened the door and found him dead, and with\nexclamations of pity raised him and carried him home to his\nmother, for his father was not living. She received the dead body\nof her son, and folded the cold form to her bosom, while she\npoured forth the sad words which bereaved mothers utter. The\nmournful funeral passed through the town, and the pale corpse was\nborne on a bier to the place of the funeral pile. By chance the\nhome of Anaxarete was on the street where the procession passed,\nand the lamentations of the mourners met the ears of her whom the\navenging deity had already marked for punishment.\n\n\"'Let us see this sad procession,' said she, and mounted to a\nturret, whence through an open window she looked upon the funeral.\nScarce had her eyes rested upon the form of Iphis stretched on the\nbier, when they began to stiffen, and the warm blood in her body\nto become cold. Endeavoring to step back, she found she could not\nmove her feet; trying to turn away her face, she tried in vain;\nand by degrees all her limbs became stony like her heart. That you\nmay not doubt the fact, the statue still remains, and stands in\nthe temple of Venus at Salamis, in the exact form of the lady. Now\nthink of these things, my dear, and lay aside your scorn and your\ndelays, and accept a lover. So may neither the vernal frosts\nblight your young fruits, nor furious winds scatter your\nblossoms!\"\n\nWhen Vertumnus had spoken thus, he dropped the disguise of an old\nwoman, and stood before her in his proper person, as a comely\nyouth. It appeared to her like the sun bursting through a cloud.\nHe would have renewed his entreaties, but there was no need; his\narguments and the sight of his true form prevailed, and the Nymph\nno longer resisted, but owned a mutual flame.\n\nPomona was the especial patroness of the Apple-orchard, and as\nsuch she was invoked by Phillips, the author of a poem on Cider,\nin blank verse. Thomson in the \"Seasons\" alludes to him:\n\n    \"Phillips, Pomona's bard, the second thou\n     Who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfettered verse,\n     With British freedom, sing the British song.\"\n\nBut Pomona was also regarded as presiding over other fruits, and\nas such is invoked by Thomson:\n\n    \"Bear me, Pomona, to thy citron groves,\n     To where the lemon and the piercing lime,\n     With the deep orange, glowing through the green,\n     Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclined\n     Beneath the spreading tamarind, that shakes,\n     Fanned by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nCUPID AND PSYCHE\n\n\nA certain king and queen had three daughters. The charms of the\ntwo elder were more than common, but the beauty of the youngest\nwas so wonderful that the poverty of language is unable to express\nits due praise. The fame of her beauty was so great that strangers\nfrom neighboring countries came in crowds to enjoy the sight, and\nlooked on her with amazement, paying her that homage which is due\nonly to Venus herself. In fact Venus found her altars deserted,\nwhile men turned their devotion to this young virgin. As she\npassed along, the people sang her praises, and strewed her way\nwith chaplets and flowers.\n\nThis perversion of homage due only to the immortal powers to the\nexaltation of a mortal gave great offence to the real Venus.\nShaking her ambrosial locks with indignation, she exclaimed, \"Am I\nthen to be eclipsed in my honors by a mortal girl? In vain then\ndid that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove\nhimself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals,\nPallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I\nwill give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty.\"\n\nThereupon she calls her winged son Cupid, mischievous enough in\nhis own nature, and rouses and provokes him yet more by her\ncomplaints. She points out Psyche to him and says, \"My dear son,\npunish that contumacious beauty; give thy mother a revenge as\nsweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that\nhaughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that\nshe may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation\nand triumph.\"\n\nCupid prepared to obey the commands of his mother. There are two\nfountains in Venus's garden, one of sweet waters, the other of\nbitter. Cupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and\nsuspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the\nchamber of Psyche, whom he found asleep. He shed a few drops from\nthe bitter fountain over her lips, though the sight of her almost\nmoved him to pity; then touched her side with the point of his\narrow. At the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon Cupid (himself\ninvisible), which so startled him that in his confusion he wounded\nhimself with his own arrow. Heedless of his wound, his whole\nthought now was to repair the mischief he had done, and he poured\nthe balmy drops of joy over all her silken ringlets.\n\nPsyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, derived no benefit from\nall her charms. True, all eyes were cast eagerly upon her, and\nevery mouth spoke her praises; but neither king, royal youth, nor\nplebeian presented himself to demand her in marriage. Her two\nelder sisters of moderate charms had now long been married to two\nroyal princes; but Psyche, in her lonely apartment, deplored her\nsolitude, sick of that beauty which, while it procured abundance\nof flattery, had failed to awaken love.\n\nHer parents, afraid that they had unwittingly incurred the anger\nof the gods, consulted the oracle of Apollo, and received this\nanswer: \"The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover.\nHer future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a\nmonster whom neither gods nor men can resist.\"\n\nThis dreadful decree of the oracle filled all the people with\ndismay, and her parents abandoned themselves to grief. But Psyche\nsaid, \"Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should\nrather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved\nhonors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive that\nI am a victim to that name. I submit. Lead me to that rock to\nwhich my unhappy fate has destined me.\" Accordingly, all things\nbeing prepared, the royal maid took her place in the procession,\nwhich more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp, and with her\nparents, amid the lamentations of the people, ascended the\nmountain, on the summit of which they left her alone, and with\nsorrowful hearts returned home.\n\nWhile Psyche stood on the ridge of the mountain, panting with fear\nand with eyes full of tears, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the\nearth and bore her with an easy motion into a flowery dale. By\ndegrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the\ngrassy bank to sleep. When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she\nlooked round and beheld near by a pleasant grove of tall and\nstately trees. She entered it, and in the midst discovered a\nfountain, sending forth clear and crystal waters, and fast by, a\nmagnificent palace whose august front impressed the spectator that\nit was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some\ngod. Drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building\nand ventured to enter. Every object she met filled her with\npleasure and amazement. Golden pillars supported the vaulted roof,\nand the walls were enriched with carvings and paintings\nrepresenting beasts of the chase and rural scenes, adapted to\ndelight the eye of the beholder. Proceeding onward, she perceived\nthat besides the apartments of state there were others filled with\nall manner of treasures, and beautiful and precious productions of\nnature and art.\n\nWhile her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though\nshe saw no one, uttering these words: \"Sovereign lady, all that\nyou see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and\nshall obey all your commands with our utmost care and diligence.\nRetire, therefore, to your chamber and repose on your bed of down,\nand when you see fit repair to the bath. Supper awaits you in the\nadjoining alcove when it pleases you to take your seat there.\"\n\nPsyche gave ear to the admonitions of her vocal attendants, and\nafter repose and the refreshment of the bath, seated herself in\nthe alcove, where a table immediately presented itself, without\nany visible aid from waiters or servants, and covered with the\ngreatest delicacies of food and the most nectareous wines. Her\nears too were feasted with music from invisible performers; of\nwhom one sang, another played on the lute, and all closed in the\nwonderful harmony of a full chorus.\n\nShe had not yet seen her destined husband. He came only in the\nhours of darkness and fled before the dawn of morning, but his\naccents were full of love, and inspired a like passion in her. She\noften begged him to stay and let her behold him, but he would not\nconsent. On the contrary he charged her to make no attempt to see\nhim, for it was his pleasure, for the best of reasons, to keep\nconcealed. \"Why should you wish to behold me?\" he said; \"have you\nany doubt of my love? have you any wish ungratified? If you saw\nme, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me, but all I ask of\nyou is to love me. I would rather you would love me as an equal\nthan adore me as a god.\"\n\nThis reasoning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time, and while the\nnovelty lasted she felt quite happy. But at length the thought of\nher parents, left in ignorance of her fate, and of her sisters,\nprecluded from sharing with her the delights of her situation,\npreyed on her mind and made her begin to feel her palace as but a\nsplendid prison. When her husband came one night, she told him her\ndistress, and at last drew from him an unwilling consent that her\nsisters should be brought to see her.\n\nSo, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband's\ncommands, and he, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the\nmountain down to their sister's valley. They embraced her and she\nreturned their caresses. \"Come,\" said Psyche, \"enter with me my\nhouse and refresh yourselves with whatever your sister has to\noffer.\" Then taking their hands she led them into her golden\npalace, and committed them to the care of her numerous train of\nattendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her table,\nand to show them all her treasures. The view of these celestial\ndelights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young\nsister possessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding\ntheir own.\n\nThey asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a\nperson her husband was. Psyche replied that he was a beautiful\nyouth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the\nmountains. The sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made\nher confess that she had never seen him. Then they proceeded to\nfill her bosom with dark suspicions. \"Call to mind,\" they said,\n\"the Pythian oracle that declared you destined to marry a direful\nand tremendous monster. The inhabitants of this valley say that\nyour husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes\nyou for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you.\nTake our advice. Provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife;\nput them in concealment that your husband may not discover them,\nand when he is sound asleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your\nlamp, and see for yourself whether what they say is true or not.\nIf it is, hesitate not to cut off the monster's head, and thereby\nrecover your liberty.\"\n\nPsyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they\ndid not fail to have their effect on her mind, and when her\nsisters were gone, their words and her own curiosity were too\nstrong for her to resist. So she prepared her lamp and a sharp\nknife, and hid them out of sight of her husband. When he had\nfallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her\nlamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and\ncharming of the gods, with his golden ringlets wandering over his\nsnowy neck and crimson cheek, with two dewy wings on his\nshoulders, whiter than snow, and with shining feathers like the\ntender blossoms of spring. As she leaned the lamp over to have a\nnearer view of his face a drop of burning oil fell on the shoulder\nof the god, startled with which he opened his eyes and fixed them\nfull upon her; then, without saying one word, he spread his white\nwings and flew out of the window. Psyche, in vain endeavoring to\nfollow him, fell from the window to the ground. Cupid, beholding\nher as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and\nsaid, \"O foolish Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After\nhaving disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will\nyou think me a monster and cut off my head? But go; return to your\nsisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine. I\ninflict no other punishment on you than to leave you forever. Love\ncannot dwell with suspicion.\" So saying, he fled away, leaving\npoor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with\nmournful lamentations.\n\nWhen she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around\nher, but the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found\nherself in the open field not far from the city where her sisters\ndwelt. She repaired thither and told them the whole story of her\nmisfortunes, at which, pretending to grieve, those spiteful\ncreatures inwardly rejoiced. \"For now,\" said they, \"he will\nperhaps choose one of us.\" With this idea, without saying a word\nof her intentions, each of them rose early the next morning and\nascended the mountains, and having reached the top, called upon\nZephyr to receive her and bear her to his lord; then leaping up,\nand not being sustained by Zephyr, fell down the precipice and was\ndashed to pieces.\n\nPsyche meanwhile wandered day and night, without food or repose,\nin search of her husband. Casting her eyes on a lofty mountain\nhaving on its brow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to\nherself, \"Perhaps my love, my lord, inhabits there,\" and directed\nher steps thither.\n\nShe had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in\nloose ears and some in sheaves, with mingled ears of barley.\nScattered about, lay sickles and rakes, and all the instruments of\nharvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly out of the weary\nreapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.\n\nThis unseemly confusion the pious Psyche put an end to, by\nseparating and sorting everything to its proper place and kind,\nbelieving that she ought to neglect none of the gods, but endeavor\nby her piety to engage them all in her behalf. The holy Ceres,\nwhose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus\nspoke to her: \"O Psyche, truly worthy of our pity, though I cannot\nshield you from the frowns of Venus, yet I can teach you how best\nto allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender\nyourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and\nsubmission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will\nrestore you the husband you have lost.\"\n\nPsyche obeyed the commands of Ceres and took her way to the temple\nof Venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what\nshe should say and how best propitiate the angry goddess, feeling\nthat the issue was doubtful and perhaps fatal.\n\nVenus received her with angry countenance. \"Most undutiful and\nfaithless of servants,\" said she, \"do you at last remember that\nyou really have a mistress? Or have you rather come to see your\nsick husband, yet laid up of the wound given him by his loving\nwife? You are so ill-favored and disagreeable that the only way\nyou can merit your lover must be by dint of industry and\ndiligence. I will make trial of your housewifery.\" Then she\nordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of her temple, where\nwas laid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches,\nbeans, and lentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and said,\n\"Take and separate all these grains, putting all of the same kind\nin a parcel by themselves, and see that you get it done before\nevening.\" Then Venus departed and left her to her task.\n\nBut Psyche, in a perfect consternation at the enormous work, sat\nstupid and silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable\nheap.\n\nWhile she sat despairing, Cupid stirred up the little ant, a\nnative of the fields, to take compassion on her. The leader of the\nant hill, followed by whole hosts of his six-legged subjects,\napproached the heap, and with the utmost diligence, taking grain\nby grain, they separated the pile, sorting each kind to its\nparcel; and when it was all done, they vanished out of sight in a\nmoment.\n\nVenus at the approach of twilight returned from the banquet of the\ngods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task\ndone, she exclaimed, \"This is no work of yours, wicked one, but\nhis, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed.\" So\nsaying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and\nwent away.\n\nNext morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her,\n\"Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the\nwater. There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with\ngolden-shining fleeces on their backs. Go, fetch me a sample of\nthat precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces.\"\n\nPsyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best\nto execute the command. But the river god inspired the reeds with\nharmonious murmurs, which seemed to say, \"O maiden, severely\ntried, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among the\nformidable rams on the other side, for as long as they are under\nthe influence of the rising sun, they burn with a cruel rage to\ndestroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth. But when the\nnoontide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene\nspirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in\nsafety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes\nand the trunks of the trees.\"\n\nThus the compassionate river god gave Psyche instructions how to\naccomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon\nreturned to Venus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she\nreceived not the approbation of her implacable mistress, who said,\n\"I know very well it is by none of your own doings that you have\nsucceeded in this task, and I am not satisfied yet that you have\nany capacity to make yourself useful. But I have another task for\nyou. Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades,\nand give this box to Proserpine and say, 'My mistress Venus\ndesires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending\nher sick son she has lost some of her own.' Be not too long on\nyour errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear at the\ncircle of the gods and goddesses this evening.\"\n\nPsyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being\nobliged to go with her own feet directly down to Erebus.\nWherefore, to make no delay of what was not to be avoided, she\ngoes to the top of a high tower to precipitate herself headlong,\nthus to descend the shortest way to the shades below. But a voice\nfrom the tower said to her, \"Why, poor unlucky girl, dost thou\ndesign to put an end to thy days in so dreadful a manner? And what\ncowardice makes thee sink under this last danger who hast been so\nmiraculously supported in all thy former?\" Then the voice told her\nhow by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how\nto avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the\nthree-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her\nacross the black river and bring her back again. But the voice\nadded, \"When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her\nbeauty, of all things this is chiefly to be observed by you, that\nyou never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity\nto pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses.\"\n\nPsyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and\ntaking heed to her ways travelled safely to the kingdom of Pluto.\nShe was admitted to the palace of Proserpine, and without\naccepting the delicate seat or delicious banquet that was offered\nher, but contented with coarse bread for her food, she delivered\nher message from Venus. Presently the box was returned to her,\nshut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the\nway she came, and glad was she to come out once more into the\nlight of day.\n\nBut having got so far successfully through her dangerous task, a\nlonging desire seized her to examine the contents of the box.\n\"What,\" said she, \"shall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not\ntake the least bit to put on my cheeks to appear to more advantage\nin the eyes of my beloved husband!\" So she carefully opened the\nbox, but found nothing there of any beauty at all, but an infernal\nand truly Stygian sleep, which being thus set free from its\nprison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of\nthe road, a sleepy corpse without sense or motion.\n\nBut Cupid, being now recovered from his wound, and not able longer\nto bear the absence of his beloved Psyche, slipping through the\nsmallest crack of the window of his chamber which happened to be\nleft open, flew to the spot where Psyche lay, and gathering up the\nsleep from her body closed it again in the box, and waked Psyche\nwith a light touch of one of his arrows. \"Again,\" said he, \"hast\nthou almost perished by the same curiosity. But now perform\nexactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care\nof the rest.\"\n\nThen Cupid, as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of\nheaven, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication.\nJupiter lent a favoring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers\nso earnestly with Venus that he won her consent. On this he sent\nMercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she\narrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said, \"Drink this,\nPsyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the\nknot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual.\"\n\nThus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in due time they\nhad a daughter born to them whose name was Pleasure.\n\nThe fable of Cupid and Psyche is usually considered allegorical.\nThe Greek name for a butterfly is Psyche, and the same word means\nthe soul. There is no illustration of the immortality of the soul\nso striking and beautiful as the butterfly, bursting on brilliant\nwings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull,\ngrovelling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day\nand feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the\nspring. Psyche, then, is the human soul, which is purified by\nsufferings and misfortunes, and is thus prepared for the enjoyment\nof true and pure happiness.\n\nIn works of art Psyche is represented as a maiden with the wings\nof a butterfly, along with Cupid, in the different situations\ndescribed in the allegory.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Cupid and Psyche in the conclusion\nof his \"Comus\":\n\n    \"Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced,\n     Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced,\n     After her wandering labors long,\n     Till free consent the gods among\n     Make her his eternal bride;\n     And from her fair unspotted side\n     Two blissful twins are to be born,\n     Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.\"\n\nThe allegory of the story of Cupid and Psyche is well presented in\nthe beautiful lines of T. K. Harvey:\n\n    \"They wove bright fables in the days of old,\n       When reason borrowed fancy's painted wings;\n     When truth's clear river flowed o'er sands of gold,\n       And told in song its high and mystic things!\n     And such the sweet and solemn tale of her\n       The pilgrim heart, to whom a dream was given,\n     That led her through the world,--Love's worshipper,--\n       To seek on earth for him whose home was heaven!\n\n    \"In the full city,--by the haunted fount,--\n       Through the dim grotto's tracery of spars,--\n     'Mid the pine temples, on the moonlit mount,\n       Where silence sits to listen to the stars;\n     In the deep glade where dwells the brooding dove,\n       The painted valley, and the scented air,\n     She heard far echoes of the voice of Love,\n       And found his footsteps' traces everywhere.\n\n    \"But nevermore they met since doubts and fears,\n       Those phantom shapes that haunt and blight the earth,\n     Had come 'twixt her, a child of sin and tears,\n       And that bright spirit of immortal birth;\n     Until her pining soul and weeping eyes\n     Had learned to seek him only in the skies;\n     Till wings unto the weary heart were given,\n     And she became Love's angel bride in heaven!\"\n\nThe story of Cupid and Psyche first appears in the works of\nApuleius, a writer of the second century of our era. It is\ntherefore of much more recent date than most of the legends of the\nAge of Fable. It is this that Keats alludes to in his \"Ode to\nPsyche\":\n\n    \"O latest born and loveliest vision far\n       Of all Olympus' faded hierarchy!\n     Fairer than Phoebe's sapphire-regioned star\n       Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky;\n     Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,\n       Nor altar heaped with flowers;\n     Nor virgin choir to make delicious moan\n       Upon the midnight hours;\n     No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet,\n       From chain-swung censor teeming;\n     No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat\n       Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.\"\n\nIn Moore's \"Summer Fete\" a fancy ball is described, in which one\nof the characters personated is Psyche--\n\n\n    \"... not in dark disguise to-night\n     Hath our young heroine veiled her light;--\n     For see, she walks the earth, Love's own.\n       His wedded bride, by holiest vow\n     Pledged in Olympus, and made known\n       To mortals by the type which now\n       Hangs glittering on her snowy brow.\n     That butterfly, mysterious trinket,\n     Which means the soul, (though few would think it,)\n     And sparkling thus on brow so white\n     Tells us we've Psyche here to-night.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nCADMUS--THE MYRMIDONS\n\n\nJupiter, under the disguise of a bull, had carried away Europa,\nthe daughter of Agenor, king of Phoenicia. Agenor commanded his\nson Cadmus to go in search of his sister, and not to return\nwithout her. Cadmus went and sought long and far for his sister,\nbut could not find her, and not daring to return unsuccessful,\nconsulted the oracle of Apollo to know what country he should\nsettle in. The oracle informed him that he should find a cow in\nthe field, and should follow her wherever she might wander, and\nwhere she stopped, should build a city and call it Thebes. Cadmus\nhad hardly left the Castalian cave, from which the oracle was\ndelivered, when he saw a young cow slowly walking before him. He\nfollowed her close, offering at the same time his prayers to\nPhoebus. The cow went on till she passed the shallow channel of\nCephisus and came out into the plain of Panope. There she stood\nstill, and raising her broad forehead to the sky, filled the air\nwith her lowings. Cadmus gave thanks, and stooping down kissed the\nforeign soil, then lifting his eyes, greeted the surrounding\nmountains. Wishing to offer a sacrifice to Jupiter, he sent his\nservants to seek pure water for a libation. Near by there stood an\nancient grove which had never been profaned by the axe, in the\nmidst of which was a cave, thick covered with the growth of\nbushes, its roof forming a low arch, from beneath which burst\nforth a fountain of purest water. In the cave lurked a horrid\nserpent with a crested head and scales glittering like gold. His\neyes shone like fire, his body was swollen with venom, he vibrated\na triple tongue, and showed a triple row of teeth. No sooner had\nthe Tyrians dipped their pitchers in the fountain, and the in-\ngushing waters made a sound, than the glittering serpent raised\nhis head out of the cave and uttered a fearful hiss. The vessels\nfell from their hands, the blood left their cheeks, they trembled\nin every limb. The serpent, twisting his scaly body in a huge\ncoil, raised his head so as to overtop the tallest trees, and\nwhile the Tyrians from terror could neither fight nor fly, slew\nsome with his fangs, others in his folds, and others with his\npoisonous breath.\n\nCadmus, having waited for the return of his men till midday, went\nin search of them. His covering was a lion's hide, and besides his\njavelin he carried in his hand a lance, and in his breast a bold\nheart, a surer reliance than either. When he entered the wood, and\nsaw the lifeless bodies of his men, and the monster with his\nbloody jaws, he exclaimed, \"O faithful friends, I will avenge you,\nor share your death.\" So saying he lifted a huge stone and threw\nit with all his force at the serpent. Such a block would have\nshaken the wall of a fortress, but it made no impression on the\nmonster. Cadmus next threw his javelin, which met with better\nsuccess, for it penetrated the serpent's scales, and pierced\nthrough to his entrails. Fierce with pain, the monster turned back\nhis head to view the wound, and attempted to draw out the weapon\nwith his mouth, but broke it off, leaving the iron point rankling\nin his flesh. His neck swelled with rage, bloody foam covered his\njaws, and the breath of his nostrils poisoned the air around. Now\nhe twisted himself into a circle, then stretched himself out on\nthe ground like the trunk of a fallen tree. As he moved onward,\nCadmus retreated before him, holding his spear opposite to the\nmonster's opened jaws. The serpent snapped at the weapon and\nattempted to bite its iron point. At last Cadmus, watching his\nchance, thrust the spear at a moment when the animal's head thrown\nback came against the trunk of a tree, and so succeeded in pinning\nhim to its side. His weight bent the tree as he struggled in the\nagonies of death.\n\nWhile Cadmus stood over his conquered foe, contemplating its vast\nsize, a voice was heard (from whence he knew not, but he heard it\ndistinctly) commanding him to take the dragon's teeth and sow them\nin the earth. He obeyed. He made a furrow in the ground, and\nplanted the teeth, destined to produce a crop of men. Scarce had\nhe done so when the clods began to move, and the points of spears\nto appear above the surface. Next helmets with their nodding\nplumes came up, and next the shoulders and breasts and limbs of\nmen with weapons, and in time a harvest of armed warriors. Cadmus,\nalarmed, prepared to encounter a new enemy, but one of them said\nto him, \"Meddle not with our civil war.\" With that he who had\nspoken smote one of his earth-born brothers with a sword, and he\nhimself fell pierced with an arrow from another. The latter fell\nvictim to a fourth, and in like manner the whole crowd dealt with\neach other till all fell, slain with mutual wounds, except five\nsurvivors. One of these cast away his weapons and said, \"Brothers,\nlet us live in peace!\" These five joined with Cadmus in building\nhis city, to which they gave the name of Thebes.\n\nCadmus obtained in marriage Harmonia, the daughter of Venus. The\ngods left Olympus to honor the occasion with their presence, and\nVulcan presented the bride with a necklace of surpassing\nbrilliancy, his own workmanship. But a fatality hung over the\nfamily of Cadmus in consequence of his killing the serpent sacred\nto Mars. Semele and Ino, his daughters, and Actaeon and Pentheus,\nhis grandchildren, all perished unhappily, and Cadmus and Harmonia\nquitted Thebes, now grown odious to them, and emigrated to the\ncountry of the Enchelians, who received them with honor and made\nCadmus their king. But the misfortunes of their children still\nweighed upon their minds; and one day Cadmus exclaimed, \"If a\nserpent's life is so dear to the gods, I would I were myself a\nserpent.\" No sooner had he uttered the words than he began to\nchange his form. Harmonia beheld it and prayed to the gods to let\nher share his fate. Both became serpents. They live in the woods,\nbut mindful of their origin, they neither avoid the presence of\nman nor do they ever injure any one.\n\nThere is a tradition that Cadmus introduced into Greece the\nletters of the alphabet which were invented by the Phoenicians.\nThis is alluded to by Byron, where, addressing the modern Greeks,\nhe says:\n\n    \"You have the letters Cadmus gave,\n     Think you he meant them for a slave?\"\n\nMilton, describing the serpent which tempted Eve, is reminded of\nthe serpents of the classical stories and says:\n\n    ... \"--pleasing was his shape,\n     And lovely never since of serpent kind\n     Lovelier; not those that in Illyria changed\n     Hermione and Cadmus, nor the god\n     In Epidaurus\"\n\nFor an explanation of the last allusion, see Oracle of\nAesculapius, p. 298.\n\nTHE MYRMIDONS\n\nThe Myrmidons were the soldiers of Achilles, in the Trojan war.\nFrom them all zealous and unscrupulous followers of a political\nchief are called by that name, down to this day. But the origin of\nthe Myrmidons would not give one the idea of a fierce and bloody\nrace, but rather of a laborious and peaceful one.\n\nCephalus, king of Athens, arrived in the island of Aegina to seek\nassistance of his old friend and ally Aeacus, the king, in his war\nwith Minos, king of Crete. Cephalus was most kindly received, and\nthe desired assistance readily promised. \"I have people enough,\"\nsaid Aeacus, \"to protect myself and spare you such a force as you\nneed.\" \"I rejoice to see it,\" replied Cephalus, \"and my wonder has\nbeen raised, I confess, to find such a host of youths as I see\naround me, all apparently of about the same age. Yet there are\nmany individuals whom I previously knew, that I look for now in\nvain. What has become of them?\" Aeacus groaned, and replied with a\nvoice of sadness, \"I have been intending to tell you, and will now\ndo so, without more delay, that you may see how from the saddest\nbeginning a happy result sometimes flows. Those whom you formerly\nknew are now dust and ashes! A plague sent by angry Juno\ndevastated the land. She hated it because it bore the name of one\nof her husband's female favorites. While the disease appeared to\nspring from natural causes we resisted it, as we best might, by\nnatural remedies; but it soon appeared that the pestilence was too\npowerful for our efforts, and we yielded. At the beginning the sky\nseemed to settle down upon the earth, and thick clouds shut in the\nheated air. For four months together a deadly south wind\nprevailed. The disorder affected the wells and springs; thousands\nof snakes crept over the land and shed their poison in the\nfountains. The force of the disease was first spent on the lower\nanimals--dogs, cattle, sheep, and birds The luckless ploughman\nwondered to see his oxen fall in the midst of their work, and lie\nhelpless in the unfinished furrow. The wool fell from the bleating\nsheep, and their bodies pined away. The horse, once foremost in\nthe race, contested the palm no more, but groaned at his stall and\ndied an inglorious death. The wild boar forgot his rage, the stag\nhis swiftness, the bears no longer attacked the herds. Everything\nlanguished; dead bodies lay in the roads, the fields, and the\nwoods; the air was poisoned by them, I tell you what is hardly\ncredible, but neither dogs nor birds would touch them, nor\nstarving wolves. Their decay spread the infection. Next the\ndisease attacked the country people, and then the dwellers in the\ncity. At first the cheek was flushed, and the breath drawn with\ndifficulty. The tongue grew rough and swelled, and the dry mouth\nstood open with its veins enlarged and gasped for the air. Men\ncould not bear the heat of their clothes or their beds, but\npreferred to lie on the bare ground; and the ground did not cool\nthem, but, on the contrary, they heated the spot where they lay.\nNor could the physicians help, for the disease attacked them also,\nand the contact of the sick gave them infection, so that the most\nfaithful were the first victims. At last all hope of relief\nvanished, and men learned to look upon death as the only deliverer\nfrom disease. Then they gave way to every inclination, and cared\nnot to ask what was expedient, for nothing was expedient. All\nrestraint laid aside, they crowded around the wells and fountains\nand drank till they died, without quenching thirst. Many had not\nstrength to get away from the water, but died in the midst of the\nstream, and others would drink of it notwithstanding. Such was\ntheir weariness of their sick beds that some would creep forth,\nand if not strong enough to stand, would die on the ground. They\nseemed to hate their friends, and got away from their homes, as\nif, not knowing the cause of their sickness, they charged it on\nthe place of their abode. Some were seen tottering along the road,\nas long as they could stand, while others sank on the earth, and\nturned their dying eyes around to take a last look, then closed\nthem in death.\n\n\"What heart had I left me, during all this, or what ought I to\nhave had, except to hate life and wish to be with my dead\nsubjects? On all sides lay my people strewn like over-ripened\napples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken oak. You\nsee yonder a temple on the height. It is sacred to Jupiter. O how\nmany offered prayers there, husbands for wives, fathers for sons,\nand died in the very act of supplication! How often, while the\npriest made ready for sacrifice, the victim fell, struck down by\ndisease without waiting for the blow! At length all reverence for\nsacred things was lost. Bodies were thrown out unburied, wood was\nwanting for funeral piles, men fought with one another for the\npossession of them. Finally there were none left to mourn; sons\nand husbands, old men and youths, perished alike unlamented.\n\n\"Standing before the altar I raised my eyes to heaven. 'O\nJupiter,' I said, 'if thou art indeed my father, and art not\nashamed of thy offspring, give me back my people, or take me also\naway!' At these words a clap of thunder was heard. 'I accept the\nomen,' I cried; 'O may it be a sign of a favorable disposition\ntowards me!' By chance there grew by the place where I stood an\noak with wide-spreading branches, sacred to Jupiter. I observed a\ntroop of ants busy with their labor, carrying minute grains in\ntheir mouths and following one another in a line up the trunk of\nthe tree. Observing their numbers with admiration, I said, 'Give\nme, O father, citizens as numerous as these, and replenish my\nempty city.' The tree shook and gave a rustling sound with its\nbranches, though no wind agitated them. I trembled in every limb,\nyet I kissed the earth and the tree. I would not confess to myself\nthat I hoped, yet I did hope. Night came on and sleep took\npossession of my frame oppressed with cares. The tree stood before\nme in my dreams, with its numerous branches all covered with\nliving, moving creatures. It seemed to shake its limbs and throw\ndown over the ground a multitude of those industrious grain-\ngathering animals, which appeared to gain in size, and grow larger\nand larger, and by and by to stand erect, lay aside their\nsuperfluous legs and their black color, and finally to assume the\nhuman form. Then I awoke, and my first impulse was to chide the\ngods who had robbed me of a sweet vision and given me no reality\nin its place. Being still in the temple, my attention was caught\nby the sound of many voices without; a sound of late unusual to my\nears. While I began to think I was yet dreaming, Telamon, my son,\nthrowing open the temple gates, exclaimed: 'Father, approach, and\nbehold things surpassing even your hopes!' I went forth; I saw a\nmultitude of men, such as I had seen in my dream, and they were\npassing in procession in the same manner. While I gazed with\nwonder and delight they approached and kneeling hailed me as their\nking. I paid my vows to Jove, and proceeded to allot the vacant\ncity to the new-born race, and to parcel out the fields among them\nI called them Myrmidons, from the ant (myrmex) from which they\nsprang. You have seen these persons; their dispositions resemble\nthose which they had in their former shape. They are a diligent\nand industrious race, eager to gain, and tenacious of their gains.\nAmong them you may recruit your forces. They will follow you to\nthe war, young in years and bold in heart.\" This description of\nthe plague is copied by Ovid from the account which Thucydides,\nthe Greek historian, gives of the plague of Athens. The historian\ndrew from life, and all the poets and writers of fiction since his\nday, when they have had occasion to describe a similar scene, have\nborrowed their details from him.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nNISUS AND SCYLLA--ECHO AND NARCISSUS--CLYTIE--HERO AND LEANDER\n\nNISUS AND SCYLLA\n\n\nMinos, king of Crete, made war upon Megara. Nisus was king of\nMegara, and Scylla was his daughter. The siege had now lasted six\nmonths and the city still held out, for it was decreed by fate\nthat it should not be taken so long as a certain purple lock,\nwhich glittered among the hair of King Nisus, remained on his\nhead. There was a tower on the city walls, which overlooked the\nplain where Minos and his army were encamped. To this tower Scylla\nused to repair, and look abroad over the tents of the hostile\narmy. The siege had lasted so long that she had learned to\ndistinguish the persons of the leaders. Minos, in particular,\nexcited her admiration. Arrayed in his helmet, and bearing his\nshield, she admired his graceful deportment; if he threw his\njavelin skill seemed combined with force in the discharge; if he\ndrew his bow Apollo himself could not have done it more\ngracefully. But when he laid aside his helmet, and in his purple\nrobes bestrode his white horse with its gay caparisons, and reined\nin its foaming mouth, the daughter of Nisus was hardly mistress of\nherself; she was almost frantic with admiration. She envied the\nweapon that he grasped, the reins that he held. She felt as if she\ncould, if it were possible, go to him through the hostile ranks;\nshe felt an impulse to cast herself down from the tower into the\nmidst of his camp, or to open the gates to him, or to do anything\nelse, so only it might gratify Minos. As she sat in the tower, she\ntalked thus with herself: \"I know not whether to rejoice or grieve\nat this sad war. I grieve that Minos is our enemy; but I rejoice\nat any cause that brings him to my sight. Perhaps he would be\nwilling to grant us peace, and receive me as a hostage. I would\nfly down, if I could, and alight in his camp, and tell him that we\nyield ourselves to his mercy. But then, to betray my father! No!\nrather would I never see Minos again. And yet no doubt it is\nsometimes the best thing for a city to be conquered, when the\nconqueror is clement and generous. Minos certainly has right on\nhis side. I think we shall be conquered; and if that must be the\nend of it, why should not love unbar the gates to him, instead of\nleaving it to be done by war? Better spare delay and slaughter if\nwe can. And O if any one should wound or kill Minos! No one surely\nwould have the heart to do it; yet ignorantly, not knowing him,\none might. I will, I will surrender myself to him, with my country\nas a dowry, and so put an end to the war. But how? The gates are\nguarded, and my father keeps the keys; he only stands in my way. O\nthat it might please the gods to take him away! But why ask the\ngods to do it? Another woman, loving as I do, would remove with\nher own hands whatever stood in the way of her love. And can any\nother woman dare more than I? I would encounter fire and sword to\ngain my object; but here there is no need of fire and sword. I\nonly need my father's purple lock. More precious than gold to me,\nthat will give me all I wish.\"\n\nWhile she thus reasoned night came on, and soon the whole palace\nwas buried in sleep. She entered her father's bedchamber and cut\noff the fatal lock; then passed out of the city and entered the\nenemy's camp. She demanded to be led to the king, and thus\naddressed him: \"I am Scylla, the daughter of Nisus. I surrender to\nyou my country and my father's house. I ask no reward but\nyourself; for love of you I have done it. See here the purple\nlock! With this I give you my father and his kingdom.\" She held\nout her hand with the fatal spoil. Minos shrunk back and refused\nto touch it. \"The gods destroy thee, infamous woman,\" he\nexclaimed; \"disgrace of our time! May neither earth nor sea yield\nthee a resting-place! Surely, my Crete, where Jove himself was\ncradled, shall not be polluted with such a monster!\" Thus he said,\nand gave orders that equitable terms should be allowed to the\nconquered city, and that the fleet should immediately sail from\nthe island.\n\nScylla was frantic. \"Ungrateful man,\" she exclaimed, \"is it thus\nyou leave me?--me who have given you victory,--who have sacrificed\nfor you parent and country! I am guilty, I confess, and deserve to\ndie, but not by your hand.\" As the ships left the shore, she\nleaped into the water, and seizing the rudder of the one which\ncarried Minos, she was borne along an unwelcome companion of their\ncourse. A sea-eagle ing aloft,--it was her father who had been\nchanged into that form,--seeing her, pounced down upon her, and\nstruck her with his beak and claws. In terror she let go the ship\nand would have fallen into the water, but some pitying deity\nchanged her into a bird. The sea-eagle still cherishes the old\nanimosity; and whenever he espies her in his lofty flight you may\nsee him dart down upon her, with beak and claws, to take vengeance\nfor the ancient crime.\n\nECHO AND NARCISSUS\n\nEcho was a beautiful nymph, fond of the woods and hills, where she\ndevoted herself to woodland sports. She was a favorite of Diana,\nand attended her in the chase. But Echo had one failing; she was\nfond of talking, and whether in chat or argument, would have the\nlast word. One day Juno was seeking her husband, who, she had\nreason to fear, was amusing himself among the nymphs. Echo by her\ntalk contrived to detain the goddess till the nymphs made their\nescape. When Juno discovered it, she passed sentence upon Echo in\nthese words: \"You shall forfeit the use of that tongue with which\nyou have cheated me, except for that one purpose you are so fond\nof--reply. You shall still have the last word, but no power to\nspeak first.\"\n\nThis nymph saw Narcissus, a beautiful youth, as he pursued the\nchase upon the mountains. She loved him, and followed his\nfootsteps. O how she longed to address him in the softest accents,\nand win him to converse! but it was not in her power. She waited\nwith impatience for him to speak first, and had her answer ready.\nOne day the youth, being separated from his companions, shouted\naloud, \"Who's here?\" Echo replied, \"Here.\" Narcissus looked\naround, but seeing no one called out, \"Come.\" Echo answered,\n\"Come.\" As no one came, Narcissus called again, \"Why do you shun\nme?\" Echo asked the same question. \"Let us join one another,\" said\nthe youth. The maid answered with all her heart in the same words,\nand hastened to the spot, ready to throw her arms about his neck.\nHe started back, exclaiming, \"Hands off! I would rather die than\nyou should have me!\" \"Have me,\" said she; but it was all in vain.\nHe left her, and she went to hide her blushes in the recesses of\nthe woods. From that time forth she lived in caves and among\nmountain cliffs. Her form faded with grief, till at last all her\nflesh shrank away. Her bones were changed into rocks and there was\nnothing left of her but her voice. With that she is still ready to\nreply to any one who calls her, and keeps up her old habit of\nhaving the last word.\n\nNarcissus's cruelty in this case was not the only instance. He\nshunned all the rest of the nymphs, as he had done poor Echo. One\nday a maiden who had in vain endeavored to attract him uttered a\nprayer that he might some time or other feel what it was to love\nand meet no return of affection. The avenging goddess heard and\ngranted the prayer.\n\nThere was a clear fountain, with water like silver, to which the\nshepherds never drove their flocks, nor the mountain goats\nresorted, nor any of the beasts of the forest; neither was it\ndefaced with fallen leaves or branches; but the grass grew fresh\naround it, and the rocks sheltered it from the sun. Hither came\none day the youth, fatigued with hunting, heated and thirsty. He\nstooped down to drink, and saw his own image in the water; he\nthought it was some beautiful water-spirit living in the\nfountain. He stood gazing with admiration at those bright eyes,\nthose locks curled like the locks of Bacchus or Apollo, the\nrounded cheeks, the ivory neck, the parted lips, and the glow of\nhealth and exercise over all. He fell in love with himself. He\nbrought his lips near to take a kiss; he plunged his arms in to\nembrace the beloved object. It fled at the touch, but returned\nagain after a moment and renewed the fascination. He could not\ntear himself away; he lost all thought of food or rest, while he\nhovered over the brink of the fountain gazing upon his own image.\nHe talked with the supposed spirit: \"Why, beautiful being, do you\nshun me? Surely my face is not one to repel you. The nymphs love\nme, and you yourself look not indifferent upon me. When I stretch\nforth my arms you do the same; and you smile upon me and answer my\nbeckonings with the like.\" His tears fell into the water and\ndisturbed the image. As he saw it depart, he exclaimed, \"Stay, I\nentreat you! Let me at least gaze upon you, if I may not touch\nyou.\" With this, and much more of the same kind, he cherished the\nflame that consumed him, so that by degrees he lost his color, his\nvigor, and the beauty which formerly had so charmed the nymph\nEcho. She kept near him, however, and when he exclaimed, \"Alas!\nalas!\" she answered him with the same words. He pined away and\ndied; and when his shade passed the Stygian river, it leaned over\nthe boat to catch a look of itself in the waters. The nymphs\nmourned for him, especially the water-nymphs; and when they smote\ntheir breasts Echo smote hers also. They prepared a funeral pile\nand would have burned the body, but it was nowhere to be found;\nbut in its place a flower, purple within, and surrounded with\nwhite leaves, which bears the name and preserves the memory of\nNarcissus.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Echo and Narcissus in the Lady's\nsong in \"Comus.\" She is seeking her brothers in the forest, and\nsings to attract their attention:\n\n    \"Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen\n         Within thy aery shell\n       By slow Meander's margent green,\n     And in the violet-embroidered vale,\n       Where the love-lorn nightingale\n     Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well;\n     Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair\n       That likest thy Narcissus are?\n         O, if thou have\n       Hid them in some flowery cave,\n         Tell me but where,\n     Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere,\n     So may'st thou be translated to the skies,\n   And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies.\"\n\nMilton has imitated the story of Narcissus in the account which he\nmakes Eve give of the first sight of herself reflected in the\nfountain:\n\n    \"That day I oft remember when from sleep\n     I first awaked, and found myself reposed\n     Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where\n     And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.\n     Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound\n     Of waters issued from a cave, and spread\n     Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved\n     Pure as the expanse of heaven; I thither went\n     With unexperienced thought, and laid me down\n     On the green bank, to look into the clear\n     Smooth lake that to me seemed another sky.\n     As I bent down to look, just opposite\n     A shape within the watery gleam appeared,\n     Bending to look on me. I started back;\n     It started back; but pleased I soon returned,\n     Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks\n     Of sympathy and love. There had I fixed\n     Mine eyes till now, and pined wi vain desire,\n     Had not a voice thus warned me: 'What thou seest,\n     What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself;'\" etc.\n\n    --Paradise Lost, Book IV.\n\nNo one of the fables of antiquity has been oftener alluded to by\nthe poets than that of Narcissus. Here are two epigrams which\ntreat it in different ways. The first is by Goldsmith:\n\n\"ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH, STRUCK BLIND BY LIGHTNING\n\n    \"Sure 'twas by Providence designed,\n       Rather in pity than in hate,\n     That he should be like Cupid blind,\n       To save him from Narcissus' fate.\"\n\nThe other is by Cowper:\n\n\"ON AN UGLY FELLOW\n\n    \"Beware, my friend, of crystal brook\n     Or fountain, lest that hideous hook,\n       Thy nose, thou chance to see;\n     Narcissus' fate would then be thine,\n     And self-detested thou would'st pine,\n       As self-enamoured he.\"\n\nCLYTIE\n\nClytie was a water-nymph and in love with Apollo, who made her no\nreturn. So she pined away, sitting all day long upon the cold\nground, with her unbound tresses streaming over her shoulders.\nNine days she sat and tasted neither food nor drink, her own tears\nand the chilly dew her only food. She gazed on the sun when he\nrose, and as he passed through his daily course to his setting;\nshe saw no other object, her face turned constantly on him. At\nlast, they say, her limbs rooted in the ground, her face became a\nflower [Footnote: The sunflower.] which turns on its stem so as\nalways to face the sun throughout its daily course; for it retains\nto that extent the feeling of the nymph from whom it sprang.\n\nHood, in his \"Flowers,\" thus alludes to Clytie:\n\n    \"I will not have the mad Clytie,\n       Whose head is turned by the sun;\n     The tulip is a courtly quean,\n       Whom therefore I will shun;\n     The cowslip is a country wench,\n       The violet is a nun;--\n     But I will woo the dainty rose,\n       The queen of every one.\"\n\nThe sunflower is a favorite emblem of constancy. Thus Moore uses\nit:\n\n    \"The heart that has truly loved never forgets,\n       But as truly loves on to the close;\n     As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets\n       The same look that she turned when he rose.\"\n\nHERO AND LEANDER\n\nLeander was a youth of Abydos, a town of the Asian side of the\nstrait which separates Asia and Europe. On the opposite shore, in\nthe town of Sestos, lived the maiden Hero, a priestess of Venus.\nLeander loved her, and used to swim the strait nightly to enjoy\nthe company of his mistress, guided by a torch which she reared\nupon the tower for the purpose. But one night a tempest arose and\nthe sea was rough; his strength failed, and he was drowned. The\nwaves bore his body to the European shore, where Hero became aware\nof his death, and in her despair cast herself down from the tower\ninto the sea and perished.\n\nThe following sonnet is by Keats:\n\n\"ON A PICTURE OF LEANDER\n\n    \"Come hither all sweet maidens soberly,\n       Down looking aye, and with a chasten'd light\n       Hid in the fringes of your eyelids white,\n     And meekly let your fair hands joined be\n     As if so gentle that ye could not see,\n       Untouch'd, a victim of your beauty bright,\n       Sinking away to his young spirit's night,\n     Sinking bewilder'd'mid the dreary sea.\n     'Tis young Leander toiling to his death\n       Nigh swooning he doth purse his weary lips\n     For Hero's cheek, and smiles against her smile\n       O horrid dream! see how his body dips\n     Dead-heavy; arms and shoulders gleam awhile;\n     He's gone; up bubbles all his amorous breath!\"\n\nThe story of Leander's swimming the Hellespont was looked upon as\nfabulous, and the feat considered impossible, till Lord Byron\nproved its possibility by performing it himself. In the \"Bride of\nAbydos\" he says,\n\n    \"These limbs that buoyant wave hath borne.\"\n\nThe distance in the narrowest part is almost a mile, and there is\na constant current setting out from the Sea of Marmora into the\nArchipelago. Since Byron's time the feat has been achieved by\nothers; but it yet remains a test of strength and skill in the art\nof swimming sufficient to give a wide and lasting celebrity to any\none of our readers who may dare to make the attempt and succeed in\naccomplishing it.\n\nIn the beginning of the second canto of the same poem, Byron thus\nalludes to this story:\n\n    \"The winds are high on Helle's wave,\n     As on that night of stormiest water,\n    When Love, who sent, forgot to save\n    The young, the beautiful, the brave,\n    The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.\n\n    O, when alone along the sky\n    The turret-torch was blazing high,\n    Though rising gale and breaking foam,\n    And shrieking sea-birds warned him home;\n    And clouds aloft and tides below,\n    With signs and sounds forbade to go,\n    He could not see, he would not hear\n    Or sound or sight foreboding fear.\n    His eye but saw that light of love,\n    The only star it hailed above;\n    His ear but rang with Hero's song,\n    'Ye waves, divide not lovers long.'\n    That tale is old, but love anew\n    May nerve young hearts to prove as true.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nMINERVA--NIOBE\n\nMINERVA\n\n\nMinerva, the goddess of wisdom, was the daughter of Jupiter. She\nwas said to have leaped forth from his brain, mature, and in\ncomplete armor. She presided over the useful and ornamental arts,\nboth those of men--such as agriculture and navigation--and those\nof women,--spinning, weaving, and needlework. She was also a\nwarlike divinity; but it was defensive war only that she\npatronized, and she had no sympathy with Mars's savage love of\nviolence and bloodshed. Athens was her chosen seat, her own city,\nawarded to her as the prize of a contest with Neptune, who also\naspired to it. The tale ran that in the reign of Cecrops, the\nfirst king of Athens, the two deities contended for the possession\nof the city. The gods decreed that it should be awarded to that\none who produced the gift most useful to mortals. Neptune gave the\nhorse; Minerva produced the olive. The gods gave judgment that the\nolive was the more useful of the two, and awarded the city to the\ngoddess; and it was named after her, Athens, her name in Greek\nbeing Athene.\n\nThere was another contest, in which a mortal dared to come in\ncompetition with Minerva. That mortal was Arachne, a maiden who\nhad attained such skill in the arts of weaving and embroidery that\nthe nymphs themselves would leave their groves and fountains to\ncome and gaze upon her work. It was not only beautiful when it was\ndone, but beautiful also in the doing. To watch her, as she took\nthe wool in its rude state and formed it into rolls, or separated\nit with her fingers and carded it till it looked as light and soft\nas a cloud, or twirled the spindle with skilful touch, or wove the\nweb, or, after it was woven, adorned it with her needle, one would\nhave said that Minerva herself had taught her. But this she\ndenied, and could not bear to be thought a pupil even of a\ngoddess. \"Let Minerva try her skill with mine,\" said she; \"if\nbeaten I will pay the penalty.\" Minerva heard this and was\ndispleased. She assumed the form of an old woman and went and gave\nArachne some friendly advice \"I have had much experience,\" said\nshe, \"and I hope you will not despise my counsel. Challenge your\nfellow-mortals as you will, but do not compete with a goddess. On\nthe contrary, I advise you to ask her forgiveness for what you\nhave said, and as she is merciful perhaps she will pardon you.\"\nArachne stopped her spinning and looked at the old dame with anger\nin her countenance. \"Keep your counsel,\" said she, \"for your\ndaughters or handmaids; for my part I know what I say, and I stand\nto it. I am not afraid of the goddess; let her try her skill, if\nshe dare venture.\" \"She comes,\" said Minerva; and dropping her\ndisguise stood confessed. The nymphs bent low in homage, and all\nthe bystanders paid reverence. Arachne alone was unterrified. She\nblushed, indeed; a sudden color dyed her cheek, and then she grew\npale. But she stood to her resolve, and with a foolish conceit of\nher own skill rushed on her fate. Minerva forbore no longer nor\ninterposed any further advice. They proceed to the contest. Each\ntakes her station and attaches the web to the beam. Then the\nslender shuttle is passed in and out among the threads. The reed\nwith its fine teeth strikes up the woof into its place and\ncompacts the web. Both work with speed; their skilful hands move\nrapidly, and the excitement of the contest makes the labor light.\nWool of Tyrian dye is contrasted with that of other colors, shaded\noff into one another so adroitly that the joining deceives the\neye. Like the bow, whose long arch tinges the heavens, formed by\nsunbeams reflected from the shower, [Footnote: This correct\ndescription of the rainbow is literally translated from Ovid.] in\nwhich, where the colors meet they seem as one, but at a little\ndistance from the point of contact are wholly different.\n\nMinerva wrought on her web the scene of her contest with Neptune.\nTwelve of the heavenly powers are represented, Jupiter, with\naugust gravity, sitting in the midst. Neptune, the ruler of the\nsea, holds his trident, and appears to have just smitten the\nearth, from which a horse has leaped forth. Minerva depicted\nherself with helmed head, her Aegis covering her breast. Such was\nthe central circle; and in the four corners were represented\nincidents illustrating the displeasure of the gods at such\npresumptuous mortals as had dared to contend with them. These were\nmeant as warnings to her rival to give up the contest before it\nwas too late.\n\nArachne filled her web with subjects designedly chosen to exhibit\nthe failings and errors of the gods. One scene represented Leda\ncaressing the swan, under which form Jupiter had disguised\nhimself; and another, Danae, in the brazen tower in which her\nfather had imprisoned her, but where the god effected his entrance\nin the form of a golden shower. Still another depicted Europa\ndeceived by Jupiter under the disguise of a bull. Encouraged by\nthe tameness of the animal Europa ventured to mount his back,\nwhereupon Jupiter advanced into the sea and swam with her to\nCrete. You would have thought it was a real bull, so naturally was\nit wrought, and so natural the water in which it swam. She seemed\nto look with longing eyes back upon the shore she was leaving, and\nto call to her companions for help. She appeared to shudder with\nterror at the sight of the heaving waves, and to draw back her\nfeet from the water.\n\nArachne filled her canvas with similar subjects, wonderfully well\ndone, but strongly marking her presumption and impiety. Minerva\ncould not forbear to admire, yet felt indignant at the insult. She\nstruck the web with her shuttle and rent it in pieces, she then\ntouched the forehead of Arachne and made her feel her guilt and\nshame. She could not endure it and went and hanged herself.\nMinerva pitied her as she saw her suspended by a rope. \"Live,\" she\nsaid, \"guilty woman! and that you may preserve the memory of this\nlesson, continue to hang, both you and your descendants, to all\nfuture times.\" She sprinkled her with the juices of aconite, and\nimmediately her hair came off, and her nose and ears likewise. Her\nform shrank up, and her head grew smaller yet; her fingers cleaved\nto her side and served for legs. All the rest of her is body, out\nof which she spins her thread, often hanging suspended by it, in\nthe same attitude as when Minerva touched her and transformed her\ninto a spider.\n\nSpenser tells the story of Arachne in his \"Muiopotmos,\" adhering\nvery closely to his master Ovid, but improving upon him in the\nconclusion of the story. The two stanzas which follow tell what\nwas done after the goddess had depicted her creation of the olive\ntree:\n\n    \"Amongst these leaves she made a Butterfly,\n     With excellent device and wondrous slight,\n     Fluttering among the olives wantonly,\n     That seemed to live, so like it was in sight;\n     The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie,\n     The silken down with which his back is dight,\n     His broad outstretched horns, his hairy thighs,\n     His glorious colors, and his glistening eyes.\"\n\n    \"Which when Arachne saw, as overlaid\n     And mastered with workmanship so rare,\n     She stood astonied long, ne aught gainsaid;\n     And with fast-fixed eyes on her did stare\n     And by her silence, sign of one dismayed,\n     The victory did yield her as her share;\n     Yet did she inly fret and felly burn,\n     And all her blood to poisonous rancor turn.\"\n\n[Footnote: Sir James Mackintosh says of this, \"Do you think that\neven a Chinese could paint the gay colors of a butterfly with more\nminute exactness than the following lines: 'The velvet nap,'\netc.?\"--Life, Vol. II, 246.]\n\nAnd so the metamorphosis is caused by Arachne's own mortification\nand vexation, and not by any direct act of the goddess.\n\nThe following specimen of old-fashioned gallantry is by Garrick:\n\n         \"UPON A LADY'S EMBROIDERY\n\n    \"Arachne once, as poets tell,\n       A goddess at her art defied,\n     And soon the daring mortal fell\n       The hapless victim of her pride.\n\n    \"O, then beware Arachne's fate;\n       Be prudent, Chloe, and submit,\n     For you'll most surely meet her hate,\n       Who rival both her art and wit.\"\n\nTennyson, in his \"Palace of Art,\" describing the works of art with\nwhich the palace was adorned, thus alludes to Europa:\n\n    \"... sweet Europa's mantle blew unclasped\n       From off her shoulder, backward borne,\n     From one hand drooped a crocus, one hand grasped\n       The mild bull's golden horn.\"\n\nIn his \"Princess\" there is this allusion to Danae:\n\n    \"Now lies the earth all Danae to the stars,\n     And all thy heart lies open unto me.\"\n\nNIOBE\n\nThe fate of Arachne was noised abroad through all the country, and\nserved as a warning to all presumptuous mortals not to compare\nthemselves with the divinities. But one, and she a matron too,\nfailed to learn the lesson of humility. It was Niobe, the queen of\nThebes. She had indeed much to be proud of; but it was not her\nhusband's fame, nor her own beauty, nor their great descent, nor\nthe power of their kingdom that elated her. It was her children;\nand truly the happiest of mothers would Niobe have been if only\nshe had not claimed to be so. It was on occasion of the annual\ncelebration in honor of Latona and her offspring, Apollo and\nDiana,--when the people of Thebes were assembled, their brows\ncrowned with laurel, bearing frankincense to the altars and paying\ntheir vows,--that Niobe appeared among the crowd. Her attire was\nsplendid with gold and gems, and her aspect beautiful as the face\nof an angry woman can be. She stood and surveyed the people with\nhaughty looks. \"What folly,\" said she, \"is this!--to prefer beings\nwhom you never saw to those who stand before your eyes! Why should\nLatona be honored with worship, and none be paid to me? My father\nwas Tantalus, who was received as a guest at the table of the\ngods; my mother was a goddess. My husband built and rules this\ncity, Thebes, and Phrygia is my paternal inheritance. Wherever I\nturn my eyes I survey the elements of my power; nor is my form and\npresence unworthy of a goddess. To all this let me add I have\nseven sons and seven daughters, and look for sons-in-law and\ndaughters-in-law of pretensions worthy of my alliance. Have I not\ncause for pride? Will you prefer to me this Latona, the Titan's\ndaughter, with her two children? I have seven times as many.\nFortunate indeed am I, and fortunate I shall remain! Will any one\ndeny this? My abundance is my security. I feel myself too strong\nfor Fortune to subdue. She may take from me much; I shall still\nhave much left. Were I to lose some of my children, I should\nhardly be left as poor as Latona with her two only. Away with you\nfrom these solemnities,--put off the laurel from your brows,--have\ndone with this worship!\" The people obeyed, and left the sacred\nservices uncompleted.\n\nThe goddess was indignant. On the Cynthian mountain top where she\ndwelt she thus addressed her son and daughter: \"My children, I who\nhave been so proud of you both, and have been used to hold myself\nsecond to none of the goddesses except Juno alone, begin now to\ndoubt whether I am indeed a goddess. I shall be deprived of my\nworship altogether unless you protect me.\" She was proceeding in\nthis strain, but Apollo interrupted her. \"Say no more,\" said he;\n\"speech only delays punishment.\" So said Diana also. Darting\nthrough the air, veiled in clouds, they alighted on the towers of\nthe city. Spread out before the gates was a broad plain, where the\nyouth of the city pursued their warlike sports. The sons of Niobe\nwere there with the rest,--some mounted on spirited horses richly\ncaparisoned, some driving gay chariots. Ismenos, the first-born,\nas he guided his foaming steeds, struck with an arrow from above,\ncried out, \"Ah me!\" dropped the reins, and fell lifeless. Another,\nhearing the sound of the bow,--like a boatman who sees the storm\ngathering and makes all sail for the port,--gave the reins to his\nhorses and attempted to escape. The inevitable arrow overtook him\nas he fled. Two others, younger boys, just from their tasks, had\ngone to the playground to have a game of wrestling. As they stood\nbreast to breast, one arrow pierced them both. They uttered a cry\ntogether, together cast a parting look around them, and together\nbreathed their last. Alphenor, an elder brother, seeing them fall,\nhastened to the spot to render assistance, and fell stricken in\nthe act of brotherly duty. One only was left, Ilioneus. He raised\nhis arms to heaven to try whether prayer might not avail. \"Spare\nme, ye gods!\" he cried, addressing all, in his ignorance that all\nneeded not his intercessions; and Apollo would have spared him,\nbut the arrow had already left the string, and it was too late.\n\nThe terror of the people and grief of the attendants soon made\nNiobe acquainted with what had taken place. She could hardly think\nit possible; she was indignant that the gods had dared and amazed\nthat they had been able to do it. Her husband, Amphion,\noverwhelmed with the blow, destroyed himself. Alas! how different\nwas this Niobe from her who had so lately driven away the people\nfrom the sacred rites, and held her stately course through the\ncity, the envy of her friends, now the pity even of her foes! She\nknelt over the lifeless bodies, and kissed now one, now another of\nher dead sons. Raising her pallid arms to heaven, \"Cruel Latona,\"\nsaid she, \"feed full your rage with my anguish! Satiate your hard\nheart, while I follow to the grave my seven sons. Yet where is\nyour triumph? Bereaved as I am, I am still richer than you, my\nconqueror.\" Scarce had she spoken, when the bow sounded and struck\nterror into all hearts except Niobe's alone. She was brave from\nexcess of grief. The sisters stood in garments of mourning over\nthe biers of their dead brothers. One fell, struck by an arrow,\nand died on the corpse she was bewailing. Another, attempting to\nconsole her mother, suddenly ceased to speak, and sank lifeless to\nthe earth. A third tried to escape by flight, a fourth by\nconcealment, another stood trembling, uncertain what course to\ntake. Six were now dead, and only one remained, whom the mother\nheld clasped in her arms, and covered as it were with her whole\nbody. \"Spare me one, and that the youngest! O spare me one of so\nmany!\" she cried; and while she spoke, that one fell dead.\nDesolate she sat, among sons, daughters, husband, all dead, and\nseemed torpid with grief. The breeze moved not her hair, no color\nwas on her cheek, her eyes glared fixed and immovable, there was\nno sign of life about her. Her very tongue cleaved to the roof of\nher mouth, and her veins ceased to convey the tide of life. Her\nneck bent not, her arms made no gesture, her foot no step. She was\nchanged to stone, within and without. Yet tears continued to flow;\nand borne on a whirlwind to her native mountain, she still\nremains, a mass of rock, from which a trickling stream flows, the\ntribute of her never-ending grief.\n\nThe story of Niobe has furnished Byron with a fine illustration of\nthe fallen condition of modern Rome:\n\n    \"The Niobe of nations! there she stands,\n     Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe;\n     An empty urn within her withered hands,\n     Whose holy dust was scattered long ago;\n     The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now:\n     The very sepulchres lie tenantless\n     Of their heroic dwellers; dost thou flow,\n     Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness?\n     Rise with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.\"\n\nChilde Harold, IV. 79.\n\nThis affecting story has been made the subject of a celebrated\nstatue in the imperial gallery of Florence. It is the principal\nfigure of a group supposed to have been originally arranged in the\npediment of a temple. The figure of the mother clasped by the arm\nof her terrified child is one of the most admired of the ancient\nstatues. It ranks with the Laocoon and the Apollo among the\nmasterpieces of art. The following is a translation of a Greek\nepigram supposed to relate to this statue:\n\n    \"To stone the gods have changed her, but in vain;\n     The sculptor's art has made her breathe again.\"\n\nTragic as is the story of Niobe, we cannot forbear to smile at the\nuse Moore has made of it in \"Rhymes on the Road\":\n\n    \"'Twas in his carriage the sublime\n     Sir Richard Blackmore used to rhyme,\n       And, if the wits don't do him wrong,\n     'Twixt death and epics passed his time,\n       Scribbling and killing all day long;\n         Like Phoebus in his car at ease,\n       Now warbling forth a lofty song,\n         Now murdering the young Niobes.\"\n\nSir Richard Blackmore was a physician, and at the same time a very\nprolific and very tasteless poet, whose works are now forgotten,\nunless when recalled to mind by some wit like Moore for the sake\nof a joke.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nTHE GRAEAE OR GRAY-MAIDS--PERSEUS--MEDUSA--ATLAS--ANDROMEDA\n\nTHE GRAEAE AND THE GORGONS\n\n\nThe Graeae were three sisters who were gray-haired from their\nbirth, whence their name. The Gorgons were monstrous females with\nhuge teeth like those of swine, brazen claws, and snaky hair. None\nof these beings make much figure in mythology except Medusa, the\nGorgon, whose story we shall next advert to. We mention them\nchiefly to introduce an ingenious theory of some modern writers,\nnamely, that the Gorgons and Graeae were only personifications of\nthe terrors of the sea, the former denoting the STRONG billows of\nthe wide open main, and the latter the WHITE-crested waves that\ndash against the rocks of the coast. Their names in Greek signify\nthe above epithets.\n\nPERSEUS AND MEDUSA\n\nPerseus was the son of Jupiter and Danae. His grandfather\nAcrisius, alarmed by an oracle which had told him that his\ndaughter's child would be the instrument of his death, caused the\nmother and child to be shut up in a chest and set adrift on the\nsea. The chest floated towards Seriphus, where it was found by a\nfisherman who conveyed the mother and infant to Polydectes, the\nking of the country, by whom they were treated with kindness. When\nPerseus was grown up Polydectes sent him to attempt the conquest\nof Medusa, a terrible monster who had laid waste the country. She\nwas once a beautiful maiden whose hair was her chief glory, but as\nshe dared to vie in beauty with Minerva, the goddess deprived her\nof her charms and changed her beautiful ringlets into hissing\nserpents. She became a cruel monster of so frightful an aspect\nthat no living thing could behold her without being turned into\nstone. All around the cavern where she dwelt might be seen the\nstony figures of men and animals which had chanced to catch a\nglimpse of her and had been petrified with the sight. Perseus,\nfavored by Minerva and Mercury, the former of whom lent him her\nshield and the latter his winged shoes, approached Medusa while\nshe slept, and taking care not to look directly at her, but guided\nby her image reflected in the bright shield which he bore, he cut\noff her head and gave it to Minerva, who fixed it in the middle of\nher Aegis.\n\nMilton, in his \"Comus,\" thus alludes to the Aegis:\n\n    \"What was that snaky-headed Gorgon-shield\n     That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin,\n     Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone,\n     But rigid looks of chaste austerity,\n     And noble grace that dashed brute violence\n     With sudden adoration and blank awe!\"\n\nArmstrong, the poet of the \"Art of Preserving Health,\" thus\ndescribes the effect of frost upon the waters:\n\n    \"Now blows the surly North and chills throughout\n    The stiffening regions, while by stronger charms\n    Than Circe e'er or fell Medea brewed,\n    Each brook that wont to prattle to its banks\n    Lies all bestilled and wedged betwixt its banks,\n    Nor moves the withered reeds ...\n    The surges baited by the fierce North-east,\n    Tossing with fretful spleen their angry heads,\n    E'en in the foam of all their madness struck\n    To monumental ice.\n\n    Such execution,\n    So stern, so sudden, wrought the grisly aspect\n    Of terrible Medusa,\n    When wandering through the woods she turned to Stone\n    Their savage tenants; just as the foaming Lion\n    Sprang furious on his prey, her speedier power\n    Outran his haste,\n    And fixed in that fierce attitude he stands\n    Like Rage in marble!\"\n\n    --Imitations of Shakspeare.\n\nPERSEUS AND ATLAS\n\nAfter the slaughter of Medusa, Perseus, bearing with him the head\nof the Gorgon, flew far and wide, over land and sea. As night came\non, he reached the western limit of the earth, where the sun goes\ndown. Here he would gladly have rested till morning. It was the\nrealm of King Atlas, whose bulk surpassed that of all other men.\nHe was rich in flocks and herds and had no neighbor or rival to\ndispute his state. But his chief pride was in his gardens, whose\nfruit was of gold, hanging from golden branches, half hid with\ngolden leaves. Perseus said to him, \"I come as a guest. If you\nhonor illustrious descent, I claim Jupiter for my father; if\nmighty deeds, I plead the conquest of the Gorgon. I seek rest and\nfood.\" But Atlas remembered that an ancient prophecy had warned\nhim that a son of Jove should one day rob him of his golden\napples. So he answered, \"Begone! or neither your false claims of\nglory nor parentage shall protect you;\" and he attempted to thrust\nhim out. Perseus, finding the giant too strong for him, said,\n\"Since you value my friendship so little, deign to accept a\npresent;\" and turning his face away, he held up the Gorgon's head.\nAtlas, with all his bulk, was changed into stone. His beard and\nhair became forests, his arms and shoulders cliffs, his head a\nsummit, and his bones rocks. Each part increased in bulk till he\nbecame a mountain, and (such was the pleasure of the gods) heaven\nwith all its stars rests upon his shoulders.\n\nTHE SEA-MONSTER\n\nPerseus, continuing his flight, arrived at the country of the\nAethiopians, of which Cepheus was king. Cassiopeia his queen,\nproud of her beauty, had dared to compare herself to the Sea-\nNymphs, which roused their indignation to such a degree that they\nsent a prodigious sea-monster to ravage the coast. To appease the\ndeities, Cepheus was directed by the oracle to expose his daughter\nAndromeda to be devoured by the monster. As Perseus looked down\nfrom his aerial height he beheld the virgin chained to a rock, and\nwaiting the approach of the serpent. She was so pale and\nmotionless that if it had not been for her flowing tears and her\nhair that moved in the breeze, he would have taken her for a\nmarble statue. He was so startled at the sight that he almost\nforgot to wave his wings. As he hovered over her he said, \"O\nvirgin, undeserving of those chains, but rather of such as bind\nfond lovers together, tell me, I beseech you, your name, and the\nname of your country, and why you are thus bound.\" At first she\nwas silent from modesty, and, if she could, would have hid her\nface with her hands; but when he repeated his questions, for fear\nshe might be thought guilty of some fault which she dared not\ntell, she disclosed her name and that of her country, and her\nmother's pride of beauty. Before she had done speaking, a sound\nwas heard off upon the water, and the sea-monster appeared, with\nhis head raised above the surface, cleaving the waves with his\nbroad breast. The virgin shrieked, the father and mother who had\nnow arrived at the scene, wretched both, but the mother more\njustly so, stood by, not able to afford protection, but only to\npour forth lamentations and to embrace the victim. Then spoke\nPerseus: \"There will be time enough for tears; this hour is all we\nhave for rescue. My rank as the son of Jove and my renown as the\nslayer of the Gorgon might make me acceptable as a suitor; but I\nwill try to win her by services rendered, if the gods will only be\npropitious. If she be rescued by my valor, I demand that she be my\nreward.\" The parents consent (how could they hesitate?) and\npromise a royal dowry with her.\n\nAnd now the monster was within the range of a stone thrown by a\nskilful slinger, when with a sudden bound the youth soared into\nthe air. As an eagle, when from his lofty flight he sees a serpent\nbasking in the sun, pounces upon him and seizes him by the neck to\nprevent him from turning his head round and using his fangs, so\nthe youth darted down upon the back of the monster and plunged his\nsword into its shoulder. Irritated by the wound, the monster\nraised himself in the air, then plunged into the depth; then, like\na wild boar surrounded, by a pack of barking dogs, turned swiftly\nfrom side to side, while the youth eluded its attacks by means of\nhis wings. Wherever he can find a passage for his sword between\nthe scales he makes a wound, piercing now the side, now the flank,\nas it slopes towards the tail. The brute spouts from his nostrils\nwater mixed with blood. The wings of the hero are wet with it, and\nhe dares no longer trust to them. Alighting on a rock which rose\nabove the waves, and holding on by a projecting fragment, as the\nmonster floated near he gave him a death stroke. The people who\nhad gathered on the shore shouted so that the hills reechoed the\nsound. The parents, transported with joy, embraced their future\nson-in-law, calling him their deliverer and the savior of their\nhouse, and the virgin both cause and reward of the contest,\ndescended from the rock.\n\nCassiopeia was an Aethiopian, and consequently, in spite of her\nboasted beauty, black; at least so Milton seems to have thought,\nwho alludes to this story in his \"Penseroso,\" where he addresses\nMelancholy as the\n\n    \".... goddess, sage and holy,\n     Whose saintly visage is too bright\n     To hit the sense of human sight,\n     And, therefore, to our weaker view\n     O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.\n     Black, but such as in esteem\n     Prince Memnon's sister might beseem,\n     Or that starred Aethiop queen that strove\n     To set her beauty's praise above\n     The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended.\"\n\nCassiopeia is called \"the starred Aethiop queen\" because after her\ndeath she was placed among the stars, forming the constellation of\nthat name. Though she attained this honor, yet the Sea-Nymphs, her\nold enemies, prevailed so far as to cause her to be placed in that\npart of the heaven near the pole, where every night she is half\nthe time held with her head downward, to give her a lesson of\nhumility.\n\nMemnon was an Aethiopian prince, of whom we shall tell in a future\nchapter.\n\nTHE WEDDING FEAST\n\nThe joyful parents, with Perseus and Andromeda, repaired to the\npalace, where a banquet was spread for them, and all was joy and\nfestivity. But suddenly a noise was heard of warlike clamor, and\nPhineus, the betrothed of the virgin, with a party of his\nadherents, burst in, demanding the maiden as his own. It was in\nvain that Cepheus remonstrated--\"You should have claimed her when\nshe lay bound to the rock, the monster's victim. The sentence of\nthe gods dooming her to such a fate dissolved all engagements, as\ndeath itself would have done.\" Phineus made no reply, but hurled\nhis javelin at Perseus, but it missed its mark and fell harmless.\nPerseus would have thrown his in turn, but the cowardly assailant\nran and took shelter behind the altar. But his act was a signal\nfor an onset by his band upon the guests of Cepheus. They defended\nthemselves and a general conflict ensued, the old king retreating\nfrom the scene after fruitless expostulations, calling the gods to\nwitness that he was guiltless of this outrage on the rights of\nhospitality.\n\nPerseus and his friends maintained for some time the unequal\ncontest; but the numbers of the assailants were too great for\nthem, and destruction seemed inevitable, when a sudden thought\nstruck Perseus,--\"I will make my enemy defend me.\" Then with a\nloud voice he exclaimed, \"If I have any friend here let him turn\naway his eyes!\" and held aloft the Gorgon's head. \"Seek not to\nfrighten us with your jugglery,\" said Thescelus, and raised his\njavelin in act to throw, and became stone in the very attitude.\nAmpyx was about to plunge his sword into the body of a prostrate\nfoe, but his arm stiffened and he could neither thrust forward nor\nwithdraw it. Another, in the midst of a vociferous challenge,\nstopped, his mouth open, but no sound issuing. One of Perseus's\nfriends, Aconteus, caught sight of the Gorgon and stiffened like\nthe rest. Astyages struck him with his sword, but instead of\nwounding, it recoiled with a ringing noise.\n\nPhineus beheld this dreadful result of his unjust aggression, and\nfelt confounded. He called aloud to his friends, but got no\nanswer; he touched them and found them stone. Falling on his knees\nand stretching out his hands to Perseus, but turning his head away\nhe begged for mercy. \"Take all,\" said he, \"give me but my life.\"\n\"Base coward,\" said Perseus, \"thus much I will grant you; no\nweapon shall touch you; moreover, you shall be preserved in my\nhouse as a memorial of these events.\" So saying, he held the\nGorgon's head to the side where Phineus was looking, and in the\nvery form in which he knelt, with his hands outstretched and face\naverted, he became fixed immovably, a mass of stone!\n\nThe following allusion to Perseus is from Milman's \"Samor\":\n\n    \"As'mid the fabled Libyan bridal stood\n     Perseus in stern tranquillity of wrath,\n     Half stood, half floated on his ankle-plumes\n     Out-swelling, while the bright face on his shield\n     Looked into stone the raging fray; so rose,\n     But with no magic arms, wearing alone\n     Th' appalling and control of his firm look,\n     The Briton Samor; at his rising awe\n     Went abroad, and the riotous hall was mute.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nMONSTERS\n\nGIANTS, SPHINX, PEGASUS AND CHIMAERA, CENTAURS, GRIFFIN, AND\nPYGMIES\n\n\nMonsters, in the language of mythology, were beings of unnatural\nproportions or parts, usually regarded with terror, as possessing\nimmense strength and ferocity, which they employed for the injury\nand annoyance of men. Some of them were supposed to combine the\nmembers of different animals; such were the Sphinx and Chimaera;\nand to these all the terrible qualities of wild beasts were\nattributed, together with human sagacity and faculties. Others, as\nthe giants, differed from men chiefly in their size; and in this\nparticular we must recognize a wide distinction among them. The\nhuman giants, if so they may be called, such as the Cyclopes,\nAntaeus, Orion, and others, must be supposed not to be altogether\ndisproportioned to human beings, for they mingled in love and\nstrife with them. But the superhuman giants, who warred with the\ngods, were of vastly larger dimensions. Tityus, we are told, when\nstretched on the plain, covered nine acres, and Enceladus required\nthe whole of Mount Aetna to be laid upon him to keep him down.\n\nWe have already spoken of the war which the giants waged against\nthe gods, and of its result. While this war lasted the giants\nproved a formidable enemy. Some of them, like Briareus, had a\nhundred arms; others, like Typhon, breathed out fire. At one time\nthey put the gods to such fear that they fled into Egypt and hid\nthemselves under various forms. Jupiter took the form of a ram,\nwhence he was afterwards worshipped in Egypt as the god Ammon,\nwith curved horns. Apollo became a crow, Bacchus a goat, Diana a\ncat, Juno a cow, Venus a fish, Mercury a bird. At another time the\ngiants attempted to climb up into heaven, and for that purpose\ntook up the mountain Ossa and piled it on Pelion. [Footnote: See\nProverbial Expressions.] They were at last subdued by\nthunderbolts, which Minerva invented, and taught Vulcan and his\nCyclopes to make for Jupiter.\n\nTHE SPHINX\n\nLaius, king of Thebes, was warned by an oracle that there was\ndanger to his throne and life if his new-born son should be\nsuffered to grow up. He therefore committed the child to the care\nof a herdsman with orders to destroy him; but the herdsman, moved\nwith pity, yet not daring entirely to disobey, tied up the child\nby the feet and left him hanging to the branch of a tree. In this\ncondition the infant was found by a peasant, who carried him to\nhis master and mistress, by whom he was adopted and called\nOEdipus, or Swollen-foot.\n\nMany years afterwards Laius being on his way to Delphi,\naccompanied only by one attendant, met in a narrow road a young\nman also driving in a chariot. On his refusal to leave the way at\ntheir command the attendant killed one of his horses, and the\nstranger, filled with rage, slew both Laius and his attendant. The\nyoung man was OEdipus, who thus unknowingly became the slayer of\nhis own father.\n\nShortly after this event the city of Thebes was afflicted with a\nmonster which infested the highroad. It was called the Sphinx. It\nhad the body of a lion and the upper part of a woman. It lay\ncrouched on the top of a rock, and arrested all travellers who\ncame that way proposing to them a riddle, with the condition that\nthose who could solve it should pass safe, but those who failed\nshould be killed. Not one had yet succeeded in solving it, and all\nhad been slain. OEdipus was not daunted by these alarming\naccounts, but boldly advanced to the trial. The Sphinx asked him,\n\"What animal is that which in the morning gees on four feet, at\nnoon on two, and in the evening upon three?\" OEdipus replied,\n\"Man, who in childhood creeps on hands and knees, in manhood walks\nerect, and in old age with the aid of a staff.\" The Sphinx was so\nmortified at the solving of her riddle that she cast herself down\nfrom the rock and perished.\n\nThe gratitude of the people for their deliverance was so great\nthat they made OEdipus their king, giving him in marriage their\nqueen Jocasta. OEdipus, ignorant of his parentage, had already\nbecome the slayer of his father; in marrying the queen he became\nthe husband of his mother. These horrors remained undiscovered,\ntill at length Thebes was afflicted with famine and pestilence,\nand the oracle being consulted, the double crime of OEdipus came\nto light. Jocasta put an end to her own life, and OEdipus, seized\nwith madness, tore out his eyes and wandered away from Thebes,\ndreaded and abandoned by all except his daughters, who faithfully\nadhered to him, till after a tedious period of miserable wandering\nhe found the termination of his wretched life.\n\nPEGASUS AND THE CHIMAERA\n\nWhen Perseus cut off Medusa's head, the blood sinking into the\nearth produced the winged horse Pegasus. Minerva caught him and\ntamed him and presented him to the Muses. The fountain Hippocrene,\non the Muses' mountain Helicon, was opened by a kick from his\nhoof.\n\nThe Chimaera was a fearful monster, breathing fire. The fore part\nof its body was a compound of the lion and the goat, and the hind\npart a dragon's. It made great havoc in Lycia, so that the king,\nIobates, sought for some hero to destroy it. At that time there\narrived at his court a gallant young warrior, whose name was\nBellerophon. He brought letters from Proetus, the son-in-law of\nIobates, recommending Bellerophon in the warmest terms as an\nunconquerable hero, but added at the close a request to his\nfather-in-law to put him to death. The reason was that Proetus was\njealous of him, suspecting that his wife Antea looked with too\nmuch admiration on the young warrior. From this instance of\nBellerophon being unconsciously the bearer of his own death\nwarrant, the expression \"Bellerophontic letters\" arose, to\ndescribe any species of communication which a person is made the\nbearer of, containing matter prejudicial to himself.\n\nIobates, on perusing the letters, was puzzled what to do, not\nwilling to violate the claims of hospitality, yet wishing to\noblige his son-in-law. A lucky thought occurred to him, to send\nBellerophon to combat with the Chimaera. Bellerophon accepted the\nproposal, but before proceeding to the combat consulted the\nsoothsayer Polyidus, who advised him to procure if possible the\nhorse Pegasus for the conflict. For this purpose he directed him\nto pass the night in the temple of Minerva. He did so, and as he\nslept Minerva came to him and gave him a golden bridle. When he\nawoke the bridle remained in his hand. Minerva also showed him\nPegasus drinking at the well of Pirene, and at sight of the bridle\nthe winged steed came willingly and suffered himself to be taken.\nBellerophon mounted him, rose with him into the air, soon found\nthe Chimaera, and gained an easy victory over the monster.\n\nAfter the conquest of the Chimaera Bellerophon was exposed to\nfurther trials and labors by his unfriendly host, but by the aid\nof Pegasus he triumphed in them all, till at length Iobates,\nseeing that the hero was a special favorite of the gods, gave him\nhis daughter in marriage and made him his successor on the throne.\nAt last Bellerophon by his pride and presumption drew upon himself\nthe anger of the gods; it is said he even attempted to fly up into\nheaven on his winged steed, but Jupiter sent a gadfly which stung\nPegasus and made him throw his rider, who became lame and blind in\nconsequence. After this Bellerophon wandered lonely through the\nAleian field, avoiding the paths of men, and died miserably.\n\nMilton alludes to Bellerophon in the beginning of the seventh book\nof \"Paradise Lost\":\n\n    \"Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name\n     If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine\n     Following above the Olympian hill I soar,\n     Above the flight of Pegasean wing\n                           Upled by thee,\n     Into the Heaven of Heavens I have presumed,\n     An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air\n     (Thy tempering); with like safety guided down\n     Return me to my native element;\n     Lest from this flying steed unreined (as once\n     Bellerophon, though from a lower sphere),\n     Dismounted on the Aleian field I fall,\n     Erroneous there to wander and forlorn.\"\n\nYoung, in his \"Night Thoughts,\" speaking of the sceptic, says:\n\n    \"He whose blind thought futurity denies,\n     Unconscious bears, Bellerophon, like thee\n     His own indictment, he condemns himself.\n     Who reads his bosom reads immortal life,\n     Or nature there, imposing on her sons,\n     Has written fables; man was made a lie.\"\n\nVol II, p 12\n\nPegasus, being the horse of the Muses, has always been at the\nservice of the poets. Schiller tells a pretty story of his having\nbeen sold by a needy poet and put to the cart and the plough. He\nwas not fit for such service, and his clownish master could make\nnothing of him But a youth stepped forth and asked leave to try\nhim As soon as he was seated on his back the horse, which had\nappeared at first vicious, and afterwards spirit-broken, rose\nkingly, a spirit, a god, unfolded the splendor of his wings, and\nsoared towards heaven. Our own poet Longfellow also records an\nadventure of this famous steed in his \"Pegasus in Pound.\"\n\nShakspeare alludes to Pegasus in \"Henry IV.,\" where Vernon\ndescribes Prince Henry:\n\n    \"I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,\n     His cuishes on his thighs, gallantly armed,\n     Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,\n     And vaulted with such ease into his seat,\n     As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,\n     To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,\n     And witch the world with noble horsemanship\"\n\nTHE CENTAURS\n\nThese monsters were represented as men from the head to the loins,\nwhile the remainder of the body was that of a horse. The ancients\nwere too fond of a horse to consider the union of his nature with\nman's as forming a very degraded compound, and accordingly the\nCentaur is the only one of the fancied monsters of antiquity to\nwhich any good traits are assigned. The Centaurs were admitted to\nthe companionship of man, and at the marriage of Pirithous with\nHippodamia they were among the guests. At the feast Eurytion, one\nof the Centaurs, becoming intoxicated with the wine, attempted to\noffer violence to the bride; the other Centaurs followed his\nexample, and a dreadful conflict arose in which several of them\nwere slain. This is the celebrated battle of the Lapithae and\nCentaurs, a favorite subject with the sculptors and poets of\nantiquity.\n\nBut not all the Centaurs were like the rude guests of Pirithous.\nChiron was instructed by Apollo and Diana, and was renowned for\nhis skill in hunting, medicine, music, and the art of prophecy.\nThe most distinguished heroes of Grecian story were his pupils.\nAmong the rest the infant--Aesculapius was intrusted to his charge\nby Apollo, his father. When the sage returned to his home bearing\nthe infant, his daughter Ocyroe came forth to meet him, and at\nsight of the child burst forth into a prophetic strain (for she\nwas a prophetess), foretelling the glory that he was to achieve\nAesculapius when grown up became a renowned physician, and even in\none instance succeeded in restoring the dead to life. Pluto\nresented this, and Jupiter, at his request, struck the bold\nphysician with lightning, and killed him, but after his death\nreceived him into the number of the gods.\n\nChiron was the wisest and justest of all the Centaurs, and at his\ndeath Jupiter placed him among the stars as the constellation\nSagittarius.\n\nTHE PYGMIES\n\nThe Pygmies were a nation of dwarfs, so called from a Greek word\nwhich means the cubit or measure of about thirteen inches, which\nwas said to be the height of these people. They lived near the\nsources of the Nile, or according to others, in India. Homer tells\nus that the cranes used to migrate every winter to the Pygmies'\ncountry, and their appearance was the signal of bloody warfare to\nthe puny inhabitants, who had to take up arms to defend their\ncornfields against the rapacious strangers. The Pygmies and their\nenemies the Cranes form the subject of several works of art.\n\nLater writers tell of an army of Pygmies which finding Hercules\nasleep made preparations to attack him, as if they were about to\nattack a city. But the hero, awaking, laughed at the little\nwarriors, wrapped some of them up in his lion's skin, and carried\nthem to Eurystheus.\n\nMilton uses the Pygmies for a simile, \"Paradise Lost,\" Book I.:\n\n     \"... like that Pygmaean race\n    Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves\n    Whose midnight revels by a forest side,\n    Or fountain, some belated peasant sees\n    (Or dreams he sees), while overhead the moon\n    Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth\n    Wheels her pale course; they on their mirth and dance\n    Intent, with jocund music charm his ear.\n    At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.\"\n\nTHE GRIFFIN, OR GRYPHON\n\nThe Griffin is a monster with the body of a lion, the head and\nwings of an eagle, and back covered with feathers. Like birds it\nbuilds its nest, and instead of an egg lays an agate therein. It\nhas long claws and talons of such a size that the people of that\ncountry make them into drinking-cups. India was assigned as the\nnative country of the Griffins. They found gold in the mountains\nand built their nests of it, for which reason their nests were\nvery tempting to the hunters, and they were forced to keep\nvigilant guard over them. Their instinct led them to know where\nburied treasures lay, and they did their best to keep plunderers\nat a distance. The Arimaspians, among whom the Griffins\nflourished, were a one-eyed people of Scythia.\n\nMilton borrows a simile from the Griffins, \"Paradise Lost,\" Book\nII,:\n\n    \"As when a Gryphon through the wilderness,\n     With winged course, o'er hill and moory dale,\n     Pursues the Arimaspian who by stealth\n     Hath from his wakeful custody purloined\n     His guarded gold,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTHE GOLDEN FLEECE--MEDEA\n\nTHE GOLDEN FLEECE\n\n\nIn very ancient times there lived in Thessaly a king and queen\nnamed Athamas and Nephele. They had two children, a boy and a\ngirl. After a time Athamas grew indifferent to his wife, put her\naway, and took another. Nephele suspected danger to her children\nfrom the influence of the step-mother, and took measures to send\nthem out of her reach. Mercury assisted her, and gave her a ram\nwith a GOLDEN FLEECE, on which she set the two children, trusting\nthat the ram would convey them to a place of safety. The ram\nvaulted into the air with the children on his back, taking his\ncourse to the East, till when crossing the strait that divides\nEurope and Asia, the girl, whose name was Helle, fell from his\nback into the sea, which from her was called the Hellespont,--now\nthe Dardanelles. The ram continued his career till he reached the\nkingdom of Colchis, on the eastern shore of the Black Sea, where\nhe safely landed the boy Phryxus, who was hospitably received by\nAeetes, king of the country. Phryxus sacrificed the ram to\nJupiter, and gave the Golden Fleece to Aeetes, who placed it in a\nconsecrated grove, under the care of a sleepless dragon.\n\nThere was another kingdom in Thessaly near to that of Athamas, and\nruled over by a relative of his. The king Aeson, being tired of\nthe cares of government, surrendered his crown to his brother\nPelias on condition that he should hold it only during the\nminority of Jason, the son of Aeson. When Jason was grown up and\ncame to demand the crown from his uncle, Pelias pretended to be\nwilling to yield it, but at the same time suggested to the young\nman the glorious adventure of going in quest of the Golden Fleece,\nwhich it was well known was in the kingdom of Colchis, and was, as\nPelias pretended, the rightful property of their family. Jason was\npleased with the thought, and forthwith made preparations for the\nexpedition. At that time the only species of navigation known to\nthe Greeks consisted of small boats or canoes hollowed out from\ntrunks of trees, so that when Jason employed Argus to build him a\nvessel capable of containing fifty men, it was considered a\ngigantic undertaking. It was accomplished, however, and the vessel\nnamed \"Argo,\" from the name of the builder. Jason sent his\ninvitation to all the adventurous young men of Greece, and soon\nfound himself at the head of a band of bold youths, many of whom\nafterwards were renowned among the heroes and demigods of Greece.\nHercules, Theseus, Orpheus, and Nestor were among them. They are\ncalled the Argonauts, from the name of their vessel.\n\nThe \"Argo\" with her crew of heroes left the shores of Thessaly and\nhaving touched at the Island of Lemnos, thence crossed to Mysia\nand thence to Thrace. Here they found the sage Phineus, and from\nhim received instruction as to their future course. It seems the\nentrance of the Euxine Sea was impeded by two small rocky islands,\nwhich floated on the surface, and in their tossings and heavings\noccasionally came together, crushing and grinding to atoms any\nobject that might be caught between them. They were called the\nSymplegades, or Clashing Islands. Phineus instructed the Argonauts\nhow to pass this dangerous strait. When they reached the islands\nthey let go a dove, which took her way between the rocks, and\npassed in safety, only losing some feathers of her tail. Jason and\nhis men seized the favorable moment of the rebound, plied their\noars with vigor, and passed safe through, though the islands\nclosed behind them, and actually grazed their stern. They now\nrowed along the shore till they arrived at the eastern end of the\nsea, and landed at the kingdom of Colchis.\n\nJason made known his message to the Colchian king, Aeetes, who\nconsented to give up the golden fleece if Jason would yoke to the\nplough two fire-breathing bulls with brazen feet, and sow the\nteeth of the dragon which Cadmus had slain, and from which it was\nwell known that a crop of armed men would spring up, who would\nturn their weapons against their producer. Jason accepted the\nconditions, and a time was set for making the experiment.\nPreviously, however, he found means to plead his cause to Medea,\ndaughter of the king. He promised her marriage, and as they stood\nbefore the altar of Hecate, called the goddess to witness his\noath. Medea yielded, and by her aid, for she was a potent\nsorceress, he was furnished with a charm, by which he could\nencounter safely the breath of the fire-breathing bulls and the\nweapons of the armed men.\n\nAt the time appointed, the people assembled at the grove of Mars,\nand the king assumed his royal seat, while the multitude covered\nthe hill-sides. The brazen-footed bulls rushed in, breathing fire\nfrom their nostrils that burned up the herbage as they passed. The\nsound was like the roar of a furnace, and the smoke like that of\nwater upon quick-lime. Jason advanced boldly to meet them. His\nfriends, the chosen heroes of Greece, trembled to behold him.\nRegardless of the burning breath, he soothed their rage with his\nvoice, patted their necks with fearless hand, and adroitly slipped\nover them the yoke, and compelled them to drag the plough. The\nColchians were amazed; the Greeks shouted for joy. Jason next\nproceeded to sow the dragon's teeth and plough them in. And soon\nthe crop of armed men sprang up, and, wonderful to relate! no\nsooner had they reached the surface than they began to brandish\ntheir weapons and rush upon Jason. The Greeks trembled for their\nhero, and even she who had provided him a way of safety and taught\nhim how to use it, Medea herself, grew pale with fear. Jason for a\ntime kept his assailants at bay with his sword and shield, till,\nfinding their numbers overwhelming, he resorted to the charm which\nMedea had taught him, seized a stone and threw it in the midst of\nhis foes. They immediately turned their arms against one another,\nand soon there was not one of the dragon's brood left alive. The\nGreeks embraced their hero, and Medea, if she dared, would have\nembraced him too.\n\nIt remained to lull to sleep the dragon that guarded the fleece,\nand this was done by scattering over him a few drops of a\npreparation which Medea had supplied. At the smell he relaxed his\nrage, stood for a moment motionless, then shut those great round\neyes, that had never been known to shut before, and turned over on\nhis side, fast asleep. Jason seized the fleece and with his\nfriends and Medea accompanying, hastened to their vessel before\nAeetes the king could arrest their departure, and made the best of\ntheir way back to Thessaly, where they arrived safe, and Jason\ndelivered the fleece to Pelias, and dedicated the \"Argo\" to\nNeptune. What became of the fleece afterwards we do not know, but\nperhaps it was found after all, like many other golden prizes, not\nworth the trouble it had cost to procure it.\n\nThis is one of those mythological tales, says a late writer, in\nwhich there is reason to believe that a substratum of truth\nexists, though overlaid by a mass of fiction. It probably was the\nfirst important maritime expedition, and like the first attempts\nof the kind of all nations, as we know from history, was probably\nof a half-piratical character. If rich spoils were the result it\nwas enough to give rise to the idea of the golden fleece.\n\nAnother suggestion of a learned mythologist, Bryant, is that it is\na corrupt tradition of the story of Noah and the ark. The name\n\"Argo\" seems to countenance this, and the incident of the dove is\nanother confirmation.\n\nPope, in his \"Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,\" thus celebrates the\nlaunching of the ship \"Argo,\" and the power of the music of\nOrpheus, whom he calls the Thracian:\n\n    \"So when the first bold vessel dared the seas,\n       High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain,\n    While Argo saw her kindred trees\n       Descend from Pelion to the main.\n    Transported demigods stood round,\n       And men grew heroes at the sound.\"\n\nIn Dyer's poem of \"The Fleece\" there is an account of the ship\n\"Argo\" and her crew, which gives a good picture of this primitive\nmaritime adventure:\n\n    \"From every region of Aegea's shore\n     The brave assembled; those illustrious twins\n     Castor and Pollux; Orpheus, tuneful bard;\n     Zetes and Calais, as the wind in speed;\n     Strong Hercules and many a chief renowned.\n     On deep Iolcos' sandy shore they thronged,\n     Gleaming in armor, ardent of exploits;\n     And soon, the laurel cord and the huge stone\n     Uplifting to the deck, unmoored the bark;\n     Whose keel of wondrous length the skilful hand\n     Of Argus fashioned for the proud attempt;\n     And in the extended keel a lofty mast\n     Upraised, and sails full swelling; to the chiefs\n     Unwonted objects. Now first, now they learned\n     Their bolder steerage over ocean wave,\n     Led by the golden stars, as Chiron's art\n     Had marked the sphere celestial,\" etc.\n\nHercules left the expedition at Mysia, for Hylas, a youth beloved\nby him, having gone for water, was laid hold of and kept by the\nnymphs of the spring, who were fascinated by his beauty. Hercules\nwent in quest of the lad, and while he was absent the \"Argo\" put\nto sea and left him. Moore, in one of his songs, makes a beautiful\nallusion to this incident:\n\n    \"When Hylas was sent with his urn to the fount,\n       Through fields full of light and with heart full of play,\n     Light rambled the boy over meadow and mount,\n       And neglected his task for the flowers in the way.\n\n    \"Thus many like me, who in youth should have tasted\n       The fountain that runs by Philosophy's shrme,\n     Their time with the flowers on the margin have wasted,\n       And left their light urns all as empty as mine.\"\n\nMEDEA AND AESON\n\nAmid the rejoicings for the recovery of the Golden Fleece, Jason\nfelt that one thing was wanting, the presence of Aeson, his\nfather, who was prevented by his age and infirmities from taking\npart in them. Jason said to Medea, \"My spouse, would that your\narts, whose power I have seen so mighty for my aid, could do me\none further service, take some years from my life and add them to\nmy father's.\" Medea replied, \"Not at such a cost shall it be done,\nbut if my art avails me, his life shall be lengthened without\nabridging yours.\" The next full moon she issued forth alone, while\nall creatures slept; not a breath stirred the foliage, and all was\nstill. To the stars she addressed her incantations, and to the\nmoon; to Hecate, [Footnote: Hecate was a mysterious divinity\nsometimes identified with Diana and sometimes with Proserpine. As\nDiana represents the moonlight splendor of night, so Hecate\nrepresents its darkness and terrors. She was the goddess of\nsorcery and witchcraft, and was believed to wander by night along\nthe earth, seen only by the dogs, whose barking told her\napproach.] the goddess of the underworld, and to Tellus the\ngoddess of the earth, by whose power plants potent for enchantment\nare produced. She invoked the gods of the woods and caverns, of\nmountains and valleys, of lakes and rivers, of winds and vapors.\nWhile she spoke the stars shone brighter, and presently a chariot\ndescended through the air, drawn by flying serpents. She ascended\nit, and borne aloft made her way to distant regions, where potent\nplants grew which she knew how to select for her purpose. Nine\nnights she employed in her search, and during that time came not\nwithin the doors of her palace nor under any roof, and shunned all\nintercourse with mortals.\n\nShe next erected two altars, the one to Hecate, the other to Hebe,\nthe goddess of youth, and sacrificed a black sheep, pouring\nlibations of milk and wine. She implored Pluto and his stolen\nbride that they would not hasten to take the old man's life. Then\nshe directed that Aeson should be led forth, and having thrown him\ninto a deep sleep by a charm, had him laid on a bed of herbs, like\none dead. Jason and all others were kept away from the place, that\nno profane eyes might look upon her mysteries. Then, with\nstreaming hair, she thrice moved round the altars, dipped flaming\ntwigs in the blood, and laid them thereon to burn. Meanwhile the\ncaldron with its contents was got ready. In it she put magic\nherbs, with seeds and flowers of acrid juice, stones from the\ndistant east, and sand from the shore of all-surrounding ocean;\nhoar frost, gathered by moonlight, a screech owl's head and wings,\nand the entrails of a wolf. She added fragments of the shells of\ntortoises, and the liver of stags,--animals tenacious of life,--\nand the head and beak of a crow, that outlives nine generations of\nmen. These with many other things \"without a name\" she boiled\ntogether for her purposed work, stirring them up with a dry olive\nbranch; and behold! the branch when taken out instantly became\ngreen, and before long was covered with leaves and a plentiful\ngrowth of young olives; and as the liquor boiled and bubbled, and\nsometimes ran over, the grass wherever the sprinklings fell shot\nforth with a verdure like that of spring.\n\nSeeing that all was ready, Medea cut the throat of the old man and\nlet out all his blood, and poured into his mouth and into his\nwound the juices of her caldron. As soon as he had completely\nimbibed them, his hair and beard laid by their whiteness and\nassumed the blackness of youth; his paleness and emaciation were\ngone; his veins were full of blood, his limbs of vigor and\nrobustness. Aeson is amazed at himself, and remembers that such as\nhe now is, he was in his youthful days, forty years before.\n\nMedea used her arts here for a good purpose, but not so in another\ninstance, where she made them the instruments of revenge. Pelias,\nour readers will recollect, was the usurping uncle of Jason, and\nhad kept him out of his kingdom. Yet he must have had some good\nqualities, for his daughters loved him, and when they saw what\nMedea had done for Aeson, they wished her to do the same for their\nfather. Medea pretended to consent, and prepared her caldron as\nbefore. At her request an old sheep was brought and plunged into\nthe caldron. Very soon a bleating was heard in the kettle, and\nwhen the cover was removed, a lamb jumped forth and ran frisking\naway into the meadow. The daughters of Pelias saw the experiment\nwith delight, and appointed a time for their father to undergo the\nsame operation. But Medea prepared her caldron for him in a very\ndifferent way. She put in only water and a few simple herbs. In\nthe night she with the sisters entered the bed chamber of the old\nking, while he and his guards slept soundly under the influence of\na spell cast upon them by Medea. The daughters stood by the\nbedside with their weapons drawn, but hesitated to strike, till\nMedea chid their irresolution. Then turning away their faces, and\ngiving random blows, they smote him with their weapons. He,\nstarting from his sleep, cried out, \"My daughters, what are you\ndoing? Will you kill your father?\" Their hearts failed them and\ntheir weapons fell from their hands, but Medea struck him a fatal\nblow, and prevented his saying more.\n\nThen they placed him in the caldron, and Medea hastened to depart\nin her serpent-drawn chariot before they discovered her treachery,\nor their vengeance would have been terrible. She escaped, however,\nbut had little enjoyment of the fruits of her crime. Jason, for\nwhom she had done so much, wishing to marry Creusa, princess of\nCorinth, put away Medea. She, enraged at his ingratitude, called\non the gods for vengeance, sent a poisoned robe as a gift to the\nbride, and then killing her own children, and setting fire to the\npalace, mounted her serpent-drawn chariot and fled to Athens,\nwhere she married King Aegeus, the father of Theseus, and we shall\nmeet her again when we come to the adventures of that hero.\n\nThe incantations of Medea will remind the reader of those of the\nwitches in \"Macbeth.\" The following lines are those which seem\nmost strikingly to recall the ancient model:\n\n    \"Round about the caldron go;\n     In the poisoned entrails throw.\n\n     Fillet of a fenny snake\n     In the caldron boil and bake;\n     Eye of newt and toe of frog,\n     Wool of bat and tongue of dog,\n     Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,\n     Lizard's leg and howlet's wing:\n\n     Maw of ravening salt-sea shark,\n     Root of hemlock digged in the dark,\" etc\n\n    --Macbeth, Act IV, Scene 1\n\nAnd again:\n\n    Macbeth.--What is't you do?\n    Witches,--A deed without a name.\n\nThere is another story of Medea almost too revolting for record\neven of a sorceress, a class of persons to whom both ancient and\nmodern poets have been accustomed to attribute every degree of\natrocity. In her flight from Colchis she had taken her young\nbrother Absyrtus with her. Finding the pursuing vessels of Aeetes\ngaining upon the Argonauts, she caused the lad to be killed and\nhis limbs to be strewn over the sea. Aeetes on reaching the place\nfound these sorrowful traces of his murdered son; but while he\ntarried to collect the scattered fragments and bestow upon them an\nhonorable interment, the Argonauts escaped.\n\nIn the poems of Campbell will be found a translation of one of the\nchoruses of the tragedy of \"Medea,\" where the poet Euripides has\ntaken advantage of the occasion to pay a glowing tribute to\nAthens, his native city. It begins thus:\n\n    \"O haggard queen! to Athens dost thou guide\n       Thy glowing chariot, steeped in kindred gore;\n     Or seek to hide thy damned parricide\n       Where peace and justice dwell for evermore?\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nMELEAGER AND ATALANTA\n\n\nOne of the heroes of the Argonautic expedition was Meleager, son\nof OEneus and Althea, king and queen of Calydon. Althea, when her\nson was born, beheld the three destinies, who, as they spun their\nfatal thread, foretold that the life of the child should last no\nlonger than a brand then burning upon the hearth. Althea seized\nand quenched the brand, and carefully preserved it for years,\nwhile Meleager grew to boyhood, youth, and manhood. It chanced,\nthen, that OEneus, as he offered sacrifices to the gods, omitted\nto pay due honors to Diana; and she, indignant at the neglect,\nsent a wild boar of enormous size to lay waste the fields of\nCalydon. Its eyes shone with blood and fire, its bristles stood\nlike threatening spears, its tusks were like those of Indian\nelephants. The growing corn was trampled, the vines and olive\ntrees laid waste, the flocks and herds were driven in wild\nconfusion by the slaughtering foe. All common aid seemed vain; but\nMeleager called on the heroes of Greece to join in a bold hunt for\nthe ravenous monster. Theseus and his friend Pirithous, Jason,\nPeleus, afterwards the father of Achilles, Telamon the father of\nAjax, Nestor, then a youth, but who in his age bore arms with\nAchilles and Ajax in the Trojan war,--these and many more joined\nin the enterprise. With them came Atalanta, the daughter of\nIasius, king of Arcadia. A buckle of polished gold confined her\nvest, an ivory quiver hung on her left shoulder, and her left hand\nbore the bow. Her face blent feminine beauty with the best graces\nof martial youth. Meleager saw and loved.\n\nBut now already they were near the monster's lair. They stretched\nstrong nets from tree to tree; they uncoupled their dogs, they\ntried to find the footprints of their quarry in the grass. From\nthe wood was a descent to marshy ground. Here the boar, as he lay\namong the reeds, heard the shouts of his pursuers, and rushed\nforth against them. One and another is thrown down and slain.\nJason throws his spear, with a prayer to Diana for success; and\nthe favoring goddess allows the weapon to touch, but not to wound,\nremoving the steel point of the spear in its flight. Nestor,\nassailed, seeks and finds safety in the branches of a tree.\nTelamon rushes on, but stumbling at a projecting root, falls\nprone. But an arrow from Atalanta at length for the first time\ntastes the monster's blood. It is a slight wound, but Meleager\nsees and joyfully proclaims it. Anceus, excited to envy by the\npraise given to a female, loudly proclaims his own valor, and\ndefies alike the boar and the goddess who had sent it; but as he\nrushes on, the infuriated beast lays him low with a mortal wound.\nTheseus throws his lance, but it is turned aside by a projecting\nbough. The dart of Jason misses its object, and kills instead one\nof their own dogs. But Meleager, after one unsuccessful stroke,\ndrives his spear into the monster's side, then rushes on and\ndespatches him with repeated blows.\n\nThen rose a shout from those around; they congratulated the\nconqueror, crowding to touch his hand. He, placing his foot upon\nthe head of the slain boar, turned to Atalanta and bestowed on her\nthe head and the rough hide which were the trophies of his\nsuccess. But at this, envy excited the rest to strife. Plexippus\nand Toxeus, the brothers of Meleager's mother, beyond the rest\nopposed the gift, and snatched from the maiden the trophy she had\nreceived. Meleager, kindling with rage at the wrong done to\nhimself, and still more at the insult offered to her whom he\nloved, forgot the claims of kindred, and plunged his sword into\nthe offenders' hearts.\n\nAs Althea bore gifts of thankfulness to the temples for the\nvictory of her son, the bodies of her murdered brothers met her\nsight. She shrieks, and beats her breast, and hastens to change\nthe garments of rejoicing for those of mourning. But when the\nauthor of the deed is known, grief gives way to the stern desire\nof vengeance on her son. The fatal brand, which once she rescued\nfrom the flames, the brand which the destinies had linked with\nMeleager's life, she brings forth, and commands a fire to be\nprepared. Then four times she essays to place the brand upon the\npile; four times draws back, shuddering at the thought of bringing\ndestruction on her son. The feelings of the mother and the sister\ncontend within her. Now she is pale at the thought of the proposed\ndeed, now flushed again with anger at the act of her son. As a\nvessel, driven in one direction by the wind, and in the opposite\nby the tide, the mind of Althea hangs suspended in uncertainty.\nBut now the sister prevails above the mother, and she begins as\nshe holds the fatal wood: \"Turn, ye Furies, goddesses of\npunishment! turn to behold the sacrifice I bring! Crime must atone\nfor crime. Shall OEneus rejoice in his victor son, while the house\nof Thestius is desolate? But, alas! to what deed am I borne along?\nBrothers forgive a mother's weakness! my hand fails me. He\ndeserves death, but not that I should destroy him. But shall he\nthen live, and triumph, and reign over Calydon, while you, my\nbrothers, wander unavenged among the shades? No! thou hast lived\nby my gift; die, now, for thine own crime. Return the life which\ntwice I gave thee, first at thy birth, again when I snatched this\nbrand from the flames. O that thou hadst then died! Alas! evil is\nthe conquest; but, brothers, ye have conquered.\" And, turning away\nher face, she threw the fatal wood upon the burning pile.\n\nIt gave, or seemed to give, a deadly groan. Meleager, absent and\nunknowing of the cause, felt a sudden pang. He burns, and only by\ncourageous pride conquers the pain which destroys him. He mourns\nonly that he perishes by a bloodless and unhonored death. With his\nlast breath he calls upon his aged father, his brother, and his\nfond sisters, upon his beloved Atalanta, and upon his mother, the\nunknown cause of his fate. The flames increase, and with them the\npain of the hero. Now both subside; now both are quenched. The\nbrand is ashes, and the life of Meleager is breathed forth to the\nwandering winds.\n\nAlthea, when the deed was done, laid violent hands upon herself.\nThe sisters of Meleager mourned their brother with uncontrollable\ngrief; till Diana, pitying the sorrows of the house that once had\naroused her anger, turned them into birds.\n\nATALANTA\n\nThe innocent cause of so much sorrow was a maiden whose face you\nmight truly say was boyish for a girl, yet too girlish for a boy.\nHer fortune had been told, and it was to this effect: \"Atalanta,\ndo not marry; marriage will be your ruin.\" Terrified by this\noracle, she fled the society of men, and devoted herself to the\nsports of the chase. To all suitors (for she had many) she imposed\na condition which was generally effectual in relieving her of\ntheir persecutions,--\"I will be the prize of him who shall conquer\nme in the race; but death must be the penalty of all who try and\nfail.\" In spite of this hard condition some would try. Hippomenes\nwas to be judge of the race. \"Can it be possible that any will be\nso rash as to risk so much for a wife?\" said he. But when he saw\nher lay aside her robe for the race, he changed his mind, and\nsaid, \"Pardon me, youths, I knew not the prize you were competing\nfor.\" As he surveyed them he wished them all to be beaten, and\nswelled with envy of any one that seemed at all likely to win.\nWhile such were his thoughts, the virgin darted forward. As she\nran she looked more beautiful than ever. The breezes seemed to\ngive wings to her feet; her hair flew over her shoulders, and the\ngay fringe of her garment fluttered behind her. A ruddy hue tinged\nthe whiteness of her skin, such as a crimson curtain casts on a\nmarble wall. All her competitors were distanced, and were put to\ndeath without mercy. Hippomenes, not daunted by this result,\nfixing his eyes on the virgin, said, \"Why boast of beating those\nlaggards? I offer myself for the contest.\" Atalanta looked at him\nwith a pitying countenance, and hardly knew whether she would\nrather conquer him or not. \"What god can tempt one so young and\nhandsome to throw himself away? I pity him, not for his beauty\n(yet he is beautiful), but for his youth. I wish he would give up\nthe race, or if he will be so mad, I hope he may outrun me.\" While\nshe hesitates, revolving these thoughts, the spectators grow\nimpatient for the race, and her father prompts her to prepare.\nThen Hippomenes addressed a prayer to Venus: \"Help me, Venus, for\nyou have led me on.\" Venus heard and was propitious.\n\nIn the garden of her temple, in her own island of Cyprus, is a\ntree with yellow leaves and yellow branches and golden fruit.\nHence she gathered three golden apples, and, unseen by any one\nelse, gave them to Hippomenes, and told him how to use them. The\nsignal is given; each starts from the goal and skims over the\nsand. So light their tread, you would almost have thought they\nmight run over the river surface or over the waving grain without\nsinking. The cries of the spectators cheered Hippomenes,--\"Now,\nnow, do your best! haste, haste! you gain on her! relax not! one\nmore effort!\" It was doubtful whether the youth or the maiden\nheard these cries with the greater pleasure. But his breath began\nto fail him, his throat was dry, the goal yet far off. At that\nmoment he threw down one of the golden apples. The virgin was all\namazement. She stopped to pick it up. Hippomenes shot ahead.\nShouts burst forth from all sides. She redoubled her efforts, and\nsoon overtook him. Again he threw an apple. She stopped again, but\nagain came up with him. The goal was near; one chance only\nremained. \"Now, goddess,\" said he, \"prosper your gift!\" and threw\nthe last apple off at one side. She looked at it, and hesitated;\nVenus impelled her to turn aside for it. She did so, and was\nvanquished. The youth carried off his prize.\n\nBut the lovers were so full of their own happiness that they\nforgot to pay due honor to Venus; and the goddess was provoked at\ntheir ingratitude. She caused them to give offence to Cybele. That\npowerful goddess was not to be insulted with impunity. She took\nfrom them their human form and turned them into animals of\ncharacters resembling their own: of the huntress-heroine,\ntriumphing in the blood of her lovers, she made a lioness, and of\nher lord and master a lion, and yoked them to her car, where they\nare still to be seen in all representations, in statuary or\npainting, of the goddess Cybele.\n\nCybele is the Latin name of the goddess called by the Greeks Rhea\nand Ops. She was the wife of Cronos and mother of Zeus. In works\nof art she exhibits the matronly air which distinguishes Juno and\nCeres. Sometimes she is veiled, and seated on a throne with lions\nat her side, at other times riding in a chariot drawn by lions.\nShe wears a mural crown, that is, a crown whose rim is carved in\nthe form of towers and battlements. Her priests were called\nCorybantes.\n\nByron, in describing the city of Venice, which is built on a low\nisland in the Adriatic Sea, borrows an illustration from Cybele:\n\n    \"She looks a sea-Cybele fresh from ocean,\n     Rising with her tiara of proud towers\n     At airy distance, with majestic motion,\n     A ruler of the waters and their powers.\"\n\n    --Childe Harold, IV.\n\nIn Moore's \"Rhymes on the Road,\" the poet, speaking of Alpine\nscenery, alludes to the story of Atalanta and Hippomenes thus:\n\n    \"Even here, in this region of wonders, I find\n     That light-footed Fancy leaves Truth far behind,\n     Or at least, like Hippomenes, turns her astray\n     By the golden illusions he flings in her way.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nHERCULES--HEBE AND GANYMEDE\n\nHERCULES\n\n\nHercules was the son of Jupiter and Alcmena. As Juno was always\nhostile to the offspring of her husband by mortal mothers, she\ndeclared war against Hercules from his birth. She sent two\nserpents to destroy him as he lay in his cradle, but the\nprecocious infant strangled them with his own hands. He was,\nhowever, by the arts of Juno rendered subject to Eurystheus and\ncompelled to perform all his commands. Eurystheus enjoined upon\nhim a succession of desperate adventures, which are called the\n\"Twelve Labors of Hercules.\" The first was the fight with the\nNemean lion. The valley of Nemea was infested by a terrible lion.\nEurystheus ordered Hercules to bring him the skin of this monster.\nAfter using in vain his club and arrows against the lion, Hercules\nstrangled the animal with his hands. He returned carrying the dead\nlion on his shoulders; but Eurystheus was so frightened at the\nsight of it and at this proof of the prodigious strength of the\nhero, that he ordered him to deliver the account of his exploits\nin future outside the town.\n\nHis next labor was the slaughter of the Hydra. This monster\nravaged the country of Argos, and dwelt in a swamp near the well\nof Amymone. This well had been discovered by Amymone when the\ncountry was suffering from drought, and the story was that\nNeptune, who loved her, had permitted her to touch the rock with\nhis trident, and a spring of three outlets burst forth. Here the\nHydra took up his position, and Hercules was sent to destroy him.\nThe Hydra had nine heads, of which the middle one was immortal.\nHercules struck off its heads with his club, but in the place of\nthe head knocked off, two new ones grew forth each time. At length\nwith the assistance of his faithful servant Iolaus, he burned away\nthe heads of the Hydra, and buried the ninth or immortal one under\na huge rock.\n\nAnother labor was the cleaning of the Augean stables. Augeas, king\nof Elis, had a herd of three thousand oxen, whose stalls had not\nbeen cleansed for thirty years. Hercules brought the rivers\nAlpheus and Peneus through them, and cleansed them thoroughly in\none day.\n\nHis next labor was of a more delicate kind. Admeta, the daughter\nof Eurystheus, longed to obtain the girdle of the queen of the\nAmazons, and Eurystheus ordered Hercules to go and get it. The\nAmazons were a nation of women. They were very warlike and held\nseveral flourishing cities. It was their custom to bring up only\nthe female children; the boys were either sent away to the\nneighboring nations or put to death. Hercules was accompanied by a\nnumber of volunteers, and after various adventures at last reached\nthe country of the Amazons. Hippolyta, the queen, received him\nkindly, and consented to yield him her girdle, but Juno, taking\nthe form of an Amazon, went and persuaded the rest that the\nstrangers were carrying off their queen. They instantly armed and\ncame in great numbers down to the ship. Hercules, thinking that\nHippolyta had acted treacherously, slew her, and taking her girdle\nmade sail homewards.\n\nAnother task enjoined him was to bring to Eurystheus the oxen of\nGeryon, a monster with three bodies, who dwelt in the island\nErytheia (the red), so called because it lay at the west, under\nthe rays of the setting sun. This description is thought to apply\nto Spain, of which Geryon was king. After traversing various\ncountries, Hercules reached at length the frontiers of Libya and\nEurope, where he raised the two mountains of Calpe and Abyla, as\nmonuments of his progress, or, according to another account, rent\none mountain into two and left half on each side, forming the\nstraits of Gibraltar, the two mountains being called the Pillars\nof Hercules. The oxen were guarded by the giant Eurytion and his\ntwo-headed dog, but Hercules killed the giant and his dog and\nbrought away the oxen in safety to Eurystheus.\n\nThe most difficult labor of all was getting the golden apples of\nthe Hesperides, for Hercules did not know where to find them.\nThese were the apples which Juno had received at her wedding from\nthe goddess of the Earth, and which she had intrusted to the\nkeeping of the daughters of Hesperus, assisted by a watchful\ndragon. After various adventures Hercules arrived at Mount Atlas\nin Africa. Atlas was one of the Titans who had warred against the\ngods, and after they were subdued, Atlas was condemned to bear on\nhis shoulders the weight of the heavens. He was the father of the\nHesperides, and Hercules thought might, if any one could, find the\napples and bring them to him. But how to send Atlas away from his\npost, or bear up the heavens while he was gone? Hercules took the\nburden on his own shoulders, and sent Atlas to seek the apples. He\nreturned with them, and though somewhat reluctantly, took his\nburden upon his shoulders again, and let Hercules return with the\napples to Eurystheus.\n\nMilton, in his \"Comus,\" makes the Hesperides the daughters of\nHesperus and nieces of Atlas:\n\n   \"... amidst the gardens fair\n    Of Hesperus and his daughters three,\n    That sing about the golden tree.\"\n\nThe poets, led by the analogy of the lovely appearance of the\nwestern sky at sunset, viewed the west as a region of brightness\nand glory. Hence they placed in it the Isles of the Blest, the\nruddy Isle Erythea, on which the bright oxen of Geryon were\npastured, and the Isle of the Hesperides. The apples are supposed\nby some to be the oranges of Spain, of which the Greeks had heard\nsome obscure accounts.\n\nA celebrated exploit of Hercules was his victory over Antaeus.\nAntaeus, the son of Terra, the Earth, was a mighty giant and\nwrestler, whose strength was invincible so long as he remained in\ncontact with his mother Earth. He compelled all strangers who came\nto his country to wrestle with him, on condition that if conquered\n(as they all were) they should be put to death. Hercules\nencountered him, and finding that it was of no avail to throw him,\nfor he always rose with renewed strength from every fall, he\nlifted him up from the earth and strangled him in the air.\n\nCacus was a huge giant, who inhabited a cave on Mount Aventine,\nand plundered the surrounding country. When Hercules was driving\nhome the oxen of Geryon, Cacus stole part of the cattle, while the\nhero slept. That their footprints might not serve to show where\nthey had been driven, he dragged them backward by their tails to\nhis cave; so their tracks all seemed to show that they had gone in\nthe opposite direction. Hercules was deceived by this stratagem,\nand would have failed to find his oxen, if it had not happened\nthat in driving the remainder of the herd past the cave where the\nstolen ones were concealed, those within began to low, and were\nthus discovered. Cacus was slain by Hercules.\n\nThe last exploit we shall record was bringing Cerberus from the\nlower world. Hercules descended into Hades, accompanied by Mercury\nand Minerva. He obtained permission from Pluto to carry Cerberus\nto the upper air, provided he could do it without the use of\nweapons; and in spite of the monster's struggling, he seized him,\nheld him fast, and carried him to Eurystheus, and afterwards\nbrought him back again. When he was in Hades he obtained the\nliberty of Theseus, his admirer and imitator, who had been\ndetained a prisoner there for an unsuccessful attempt to carry off\nProserpine.\n\nHercules in a fit of madness killed his friend Iphitus, and was\ncondemned for this offence to become the slave of Queen Omphale\nfor three years. While in this service the hero's nature seemed\nchanged. He lived effeminately, wearing at times the dress of a\nwoman, and spinning wool with the hand-maidens of Omphale, while\nthe queen wore his lion's skin. When this service was ended he\nmarried Dejanira and lived in peace with her three years. On one\noccasion as he was travelling with his wife, they came to a river,\nacross which the Centaur Nessus carried travellers for a stated\nfee. Hercules himself forded the river, but gave Dejanira to\nNessus to be carried across. Nessus attempted to run away with\nher, but Hercules heard her cries and shot an arrow into the heart\nof Nessus. The dying Centaur told Dejanira to take a portion of\nhis blood and keep it, as it might be used as a charm to preserve\nthe love of her husband.\n\nDejanira did so and before long fancied she had occasion to use\nit. Hercules in one of his conquests had taken prisoner a fair\nmaiden, named Iole, of whom he seemed more fond than Dejanira\napproved. When Hercules was about to offer sacrifices to the gods\nin honor of his victory, he sent to his wife for a white robe to\nuse on the occasion. Dejanira, thinking it a good opportunity to\ntry her love-spell, steeped the garment in the blood of Nessus. We\nare to suppose she took care to wash out all traces of it, but the\nmagic power remained, and as soon as the garment became warm on\nthe body of Hercules the poison penetrated into all his limbs and\ncaused him the most intense agony. In his frenzy he seized Lichas,\nwho had brought him the fatal robe, and hurled him into the sea.\nHe wrenched off the garment, but it stuck to his flesh, and with\nit he tore away whole pieces of his body. In this state he\nembarked on board a ship and was conveyed home. Dejanira, on\nseeing what she had unwittingly done, hung herself. Hercules,\nprepared to die, ascended Mount Oeta, where he built a funeral\npile of trees, gave his bow and arrows to Philoctetes, and laid\nhimself down on the pile, his head resting on his club, and his\nlion's skin spread over him. With a countenance as serene as if he\nwere taking his place at a festal board he commanded Philoctetes\nto apply the torch. The flames spread apace and soon invested the\nwhole mass.\n\nMilton thus alludes to the frenzy of Hercules:\n\n   \"As when Alcides, from Oechalia crowned\n    With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore,\n    Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines\n    And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw\n    Into the Euboic Sea.\"\n\n[Footnote: Alcides, a name of Hercules.]\n\nThe gods themselves felt troubled at seeing the champion of the\nearth so brought to his end. But Jupiter with cheerful countenance\nthus addressed them: \"I am pleased to see your concern, my\nprinces, and am gratified to perceive that I am the ruler of a\nloyal people, and that my son enjoys your favor. For although your\ninterest in him arises from his noble deeds, yet it is not the\nless gratifying to me. But now I say to you, Fear not. He who\nconquered all else is not to be conquered by those flames which\nyou see blazing on Mount Oeta. Only his mother's share in him can\nperish; what he derived from me is immortal. I shall take him,\ndead to earth, to the heavenly shores, and I require of you all to\nreceive him kindly. If any of you feel grieved at his attaining\nthis honor, yet no one can deny that he has deserved it.\" The gods\nall gave their assent; Juno only heard the closing words with some\ndispleasure that she should be so particularly pointed at, yet not\nenough to make her regret the determination of her husband. So\nwhen the flames had consumed the mother's share of Hercules, the\ndiviner part, instead of being injured thereby, seemed to start\nforth with new vigor, to assume a more lofty port and a more awful\ndignity. Jupiter enveloped him in a cloud, and took him up in a\nfour-horse chariot to dwell among the stars. As he took his place\nin heaven, Atlas felt the added weight.\n\nJuno, now reconciled to him, gave him her daughter Hebe in\nmarriage.\n\nThe poet Schiller, in one of his pieces called the \"Ideal and\nLife,\" illustrates the contrast between the practical and the\nimaginative in some beautiful stanzas, of which the last two may\nbe thus translated:\n\n   \"Deep degraded to a coward's slave,\n    Endless contests bore Alcides brave,\n    Through the thorny path of suffering led;\n    Slew the Hydra, crushed the lion's might,\n    Threw himself, to bring his friend to light,\n    Living, in the skiff that bears the dead.\n    All the torments, every toil of earth\n    Juno's hatred on him could impose,\n    Well he bore them, from his fated birth\n    To life's grandly mournful close.\n\n   \"Till the god, the earthly part forsaken,\n    From the man in flames asunder taken,\n    Drank the heavenly ether's purer breath.\n    Joyous in the new unwonted lightness,\n    Soared he upwards to celestial brightness,\n    Earth's dark heavy burden lost in death.\n    High Olympus gives harmonious greeting\n    To the hall where reigns his sire adored;\n    Youth's bright goddess, with a blush at meeting,\n    Gives the nectar to her lord.\"\n\n    --S. G. B.\n\nHEBE AND GANYMEDE\n\nHebe, the daughter of Juno, and goddess of youth, was cup-bearer\nto the gods. The usual story is that she resigned her office on\nbecoming the wife of Hercules. But there is another statement\nwhich our countryman Crawford, the sculptor, has adopted in his\ngroup of Hebe and Ganymede, now in the Athenaeum gallery.\nAccording to this, Hebe was dismissed from her office in\nconsequence of a fall which she met with one day when in\nattendance on the gods. Her successor was Ganymede, a Trojan boy,\nwhom Jupiter, in the disguise of an eagle, seized and carried off\nfrom the midst of his playfellows on Mount Ida, bore up to heaven,\nand installed in the vacant place.\n\nTennyson, in his \"Palace of Art,\" describes among the decorations\non the walls a picture representing this legend:\n\n   \"There, too, flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh\n      Half buried in the eagle's down,\n    Sole as a flying star shot through the sky\n      Above the pillared town.\"\n\nAnd in Shelley's \"Prometheus\" Jupiter calls to his cup-bearer\nthus:\n\n   \"Pour forth heaven's wine, Idaean Ganymede,\n      And let it fill the Daedal cups like fire.\"\n\nThe beautiful legend of the \"Choice of Hercules\" may be found in\nthe \"Tatler,\" No. 97.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nTHESEUS--DAEDALUS--CASTOR AND POLLUX\n\nTHESEUS\n\n\nTheseus was the son of Aegeus, king of Athens, and of Aethra,\ndaughter of the king of Troezen. He was brought up at Troezen, and\nwhen arrived at manhood was to proceed to Athens and present\nhimself to his father. Aegeus on parting from Aethra, before the\nbirth of his son, placed his sword and shoes under a large stone\nand directed her to send his son to him when he became strong\nenough to roll away the stone and take them from under it. When\nshe thought the time had come, his mother led Theseus to the\nstone, and he removed it with ease and took the sword and shoes.\nAs the roads were infested with robbers, his grandfather pressed\nhim earnestly to take the shorter and safer way to his father's\ncountry--by sea; but the youth, feeling in himself the spirit and\nthe soul of a hero, and eager to signalize himself like Hercules,\nwith whose fame all Greece then rang, by destroying the evil-doers\nand monsters that oppressed the country, determined on the more\nperilous and adventurous journey by land.\n\nHis first day's journey brought him to Epidaurus, where dwelt a\nman named Periphetes, a son of Vulcan. This ferocious savage\nalways went armed with a club of iron, and all travellers stood in\nterror of his violence. When he saw Theseus approach he assailed\nhim, but speedily fell beneath the blows of the young hero, who\ntook possession of his club and bore it ever afterwards as a\nmemorial of his first victory.\n\nSeveral similar contests with the petty tyrants and marauders of\nthe country followed, in all of which Theseus was victorious. One\nof these evil-doers was called Procrustes, or the Stretcher. He\nhad an iron bedstead, on which he used to tie all travellers who\nfell into his hands. If they were shorter than the bed, he\nstretched their limbs to make them fit it; if they were longer\nthan the bed, he lopped off a portion. Theseus served him as he\nhad served others.\n\nHaving overcome all the perils of the road, Theseus at length\nreached Athens, where new dangers awaited him. Medea, the\nsorceress, who had fled from Corinth after her separation from\nJason, had become the wife of Aegeus, the father of Theseus.\nKnowing by her arts who he was, and fearing the loss of her\ninfluence with her husband if Theseus should be acknowledged as\nhis son, she filled the mind of Aegeus with suspicions of the\nyoung stranger, and induced him to present him a cup of poison;\nbut at the moment when Theseus stepped forward to take it, the\nsight of the sword which he wore discovered to his father who he\nwas, and prevented the fatal draught. Medea, detected in her arts,\nfled once more from deserved punishment, and arrived in Asia,\nwhere the country afterwards called Media received its name from\nher, Theseus was acknowledged by his father, and declared his\nsuccessor.\n\nThe Athenians were at that time in deep affliction, on account of\nthe tribute which they were forced to pay to Minos, king of Crete.\nThis tribute consisted of seven youths and seven maidens, who were\nsent every year to be devoured by the Minotaur, a monster with a\nbull's body and a human head. It was exceedingly strong and\nfierce, and was kept in a labyrinth constructed by Daedalus, so\nartfully contrived that whoever was enclosed in it could by no\nmeans, find his way out unassisted. Here the Minotaur roamed, and\nwas fed with human victims.\n\nTheseus resolved to deliver his countrymen from this calamity, or\nto die in the attempt. Accordingly, when the time of sending off\nthe tribute came, and the youths and maidens were, according to\ncustom, drawn by lot to be sent, he offered himself as one of the\nvictims, in spite of the entreaties of his father. The ship\ndeparted under black sails, as usual, which Theseus promised his\nfather to change for white, in case of his returning victorious.\nWhen they arrived in Crete, the youths and maidens were exhibited\nbefore Minos; and Ariadne, the daughter of the king, being\npresent, became deeply enamored of Theseus, by whom her love was\nreadily returned. She furnished him with a sword, with which to\nencounter the Minotaur, and with a clew of thread by which he\nmight find his way out of the labyrinth. He was successful, slew\nthe Minotaur, escaped from the labyrinth, and taking Ariadne as\nthe companion of his way, with his rescued companions sailed for\nAthens. On their way they stopped at the island of Naxos, where\nTheseus abandoned Ariadne, leaving her asleep. [Footnote: One of\nthe finest pieces of sculpture in Italy, the recumbent Ariadne of\nthe Vatican, represents this incident. A copy is owned by the\nAthenaeum, Boston, and deposited, in the Museum of Fine Arts.] His\nexcuse for this ungrateful treatment of his benefactress was that\nMinerva appeared to him in a dream and commanded him to do so.\n\nOn approaching the coast of Attica, Theseus forgot the signal\nappointed by his father, and neglected to raise the white sails,\nand the old king, thinking his son had perished, put an end to his\nown life. Theseus thus became king of Athens.\n\nOne of the most celebrated of the adventures of Theseus is his\nexpedition against the Amazons. He assailed them before they had\nrecovered from the attack of Hercules, and carried off their queen\nAntiope. The Amazons in their turn invaded the country of Athens\nand penetrated into the city itself; and the final battle in which\nTheseus overcame them was fought in the very midst of the city.\nThis battle was one of the favorite subjects of the ancient\nsculptors, and is commemorated in several works of art that are\nstill extant.\n\nThe friendship between Theseus and Pirithous was of a most\nintimate nature, yet it originated in the midst of arms. Pirithous\nhad made an irruption into the plain of Marathon, and carried off\nthe herds of the king of Athens. Theseus went to repel the\nplunderers. The moment Pirithous beheld him, he was seized with\nadmiration; he stretched out his hand as a token of peace, and\ncried, \"Be judge thyself--what satisfaction dost thou require?\"\n\"Thy friendship,\" replied the Athenian, and they swore inviolable\nfidelity. Their deeds corresponded to their professions, and they\never continued true brothers in arms. Each of them aspired to\nespouse a daughter of Jupiter. Theseus fixed his choice on Helen,\nthen but a child, afterwards so celebrated as the cause of the\nTrojan war, and with the aid of his friend he carried her off.\nPirithous aspired to the wife of the monarch of Erebus; and\nTheseus, though aware of the danger, accompanied the ambitious\nlover in his descent to the under-world. But Pluto seized and set\nthem on an enchanted rock at his palace gate, where they remained\ntill Hercules arrived and liberated Theseus, leaving Pirithous to\nhis fate.\n\nAfter the death of Antiope, Theseus married Phaedra, daughter of\nMinos, king of Crete. Phaedra saw in Hippolytus, the son of\nTheseus, a youth endowed with all the graces and virtues of his\nfather, and of an age corresponding to her own. She loved him, but\nhe repulsed her advances, and her love was changed to hate. She\nused her influence over her infatuated husband to cause him to be\njealous of his son, and he imprecated the vengeance of Neptune\nupon him. As Hippolytus was one day driving his chariot along the\nshore, a sea-monster raised himself above the waters, and\nfrightened the horses so that they ran away and dashed the chariot\nto pieces. Hippolytus was killed, but by Diana's assistance\nAesculapius restored him to life. Diana removed Hippolytus from\nthe power of his deluded father and false stepmother, and placed\nhim in Italy under the protection of the nymph Egeria.\n\nTheseus at length lost the favor of his people, and retired to the\ncourt of Lycomedes, king of Scyros, who at first received him\nkindly, but afterwards treacherously slew him. In a later age the\nAthenian general Cimon discovered the place where his remains were\nlaid, and caused them to be removed to Athens, where they were\ndeposited in a temple called the Theseum, erected in honor of the\nhero.\n\nThe queen of the Amazons whom Theseus espoused is by some called\nHippolyta. That is the name she bears in Shakspeare's \"Midsummer\nNight's Dream,\"--the subject of which is the festivities attending\nthe nuptials of Theseus and Hippolyta.\n\nMrs. Hemans has a poem on the ancient Greek tradition that the\n\"Shade of Theseus\" appeared strengthening his countrymen at the\nbattle of Marathon.\n\nTheseus is a semi-historical personage. It is recorded of him that\nhe united the several tribes by whom the territory of Attica was\nthen possessed into one state, of which Athens was the capital. In\ncommemoration of this important event, he instituted the festival\nof Panathenaea, in honor of Minerva, the patron deity of Athens.\nThis festival differed from the other Grecian games chiefly in two\nparticulars. It was peculiar to the Athenians, and its chief\nfeature was a solemn procession in which the Peplus, or sacred\nrobe of Minerva, was carried to the Parthenon, and suspended\nbefore the statue of the goddess. The Peplus was covered with\nembroidery, worked by select virgins of the noblest families in\nAthens. The procession consisted of persons of all ages and both\nsexes. The old men carried olive branches in their hands, and the\nyoung men bore arms. The young women carried baskets on their\nheads, containing the sacred utensils, cakes, and all things\nnecessary for the sacrifices. The procession formed the subject of\nthe bas-reliefs which embellished the outside of the temple of the\nParthenon. A considerable portion of these sculptures is now in\nthe British Museum among those known as the \"Elgin marbles.\"\n\nOLYMPIC AND OTHER GAMES\n\nIt seems not inappropriate to mention here the other celebrated\nnational games of the Greeks. The first and most distinguished\nwere the Olympic, founded, it was said, by Jupiter himself. They\nwere celebrated at Olympia in Elis. Vast numbers of spectators\nflocked to them from every part of Greece, and from Asia, Africa,\nand Sicily. They were repeated every fifth year in mid-summer,\nand continued five days. They gave rise to the custom of reckoning\ntime and dating events by Olympiads. The first Olympiad is\ngenerally considered as corresponding with the year 776 B.C. The\nPythian games were celebrated in the vicinity of Delphi, the\nIsthmian on the Corinthian isthmus, the Nemean at Nemea, a city of\nArgolis.\n\nThe exercises in these games were of five sorts: running, leaping,\nwrestling, throwing the quoit, and hurling the javelin, or boxing.\nBesides these exercises of bodily strength and agility, there were\ncontests in music, poetry, and eloquence. Thus these games\nfurnished poets, musicians, and authors the best opportunities to\npresent their productions to the public, and the fame of the\nvictors was diffused far and wide.\n\nDAEDALUS\n\nThe labyrinth from which Theseus escaped by means of the clew of\nAriadne was built by Daedalus, a most skilful artificer. It was an\nedifice with numberless winding passages and turnings opening into\none another, and seeming to have neither beginning nor end, like\nthe river Maeander, which returns on itself, and flows now onward,\nnow backward, in its course to the sea. Daedalus built the\nlabyrinth for King Minos, but afterwards lost the favor of the\nking, and was shut up in a tower. He contrived to make his escape\nfrom his prison, but could not leave the island by sea, as the\nking kept strict watch on all the vessels, and permitted none to\nsail without being carefully searched. \"Minos may control the land\nand sea,\" said Daedalus, \"but not the regions of the air. I will\ntry that way.\" So he set to work to fabricate wings for himself\nand his young son Icarus. He wrought feathers together, beginning\nwith the smallest and adding larger, so as to form an increasing\nsurface. The larger ones he secured with thread and the smaller\nwith wax, and gave the whole a gentle curvature like the wings of\na bird. Icarus, the boy, stood and looked on, sometimes running to\ngather up the feathers which the wind had blown away, and then\nhandling the wax and working it over with his fingers, by his play\nimpeding his father in his labors. When at last the work was done,\nthe artist, waving his wings, found himself buoyed upward, and\nhung suspended, poising himself on the beaten air. He next\nequipped his son in the same manner, and taught him how to fly, as\na bird tempts her young ones from the lofty nest into the air.\nWhen all was prepared for flight he said, \"Icarus, my son, I\ncharge you to keep at a moderate height, for if you fly too low\nthe damp will clog your wings, and if too high the heat will melt\nthem. Keep near me and you will be safe.\" While he gave him these\ninstructions and fitted the wings to his shoulders, the face of\nthe father was wet with tears, and his hands trembled. He kissed\nthe boy, not knowing that it was for the last time. Then rising on\nhis wings, he flew off, encouraging him to follow, and looked back\nfrom his own flight to see how his son managed his wings. As they\nflew the ploughman stopped his work to gaze, and the shepherd\nleaned on his staff and watched them, astonished at the sight, and\nthinking they were gods who could thus cleave the air.\n\nThey passed Samos and Delos on the left and Lebynthos on the\nright, when the boy, exulting in his career, began to leave the\nguidance of his companion and soar upward as if to reach heaven.\nThe nearness of the blazing sun softened the wax which held the\nfeathers together, and they came off. He fluttered with his arms,\nbut no feathers remained to hold the air. While his mouth uttered\ncries to his father it was submerged in the blue waters of the\nsea, which thenceforth was called by his name. His father cried,\n\"Icarus, Icarus, where are you?\" At last he saw the feathers\nfloating on the water, and bitterly lamenting his own arts, he\nburied the body and called the land Icaria in memory of his child.\nDaedalus arrived safe in Sicily, where he built a temple to\nApollo, and hung up his wings, an offering to the god.\n\nDaedalus was so proud of his achievements that he could not bear\nthe idea of a rival. His sister had placed her son Perdix under\nhis charge to be taught the mechanical arts. He was an apt scholar\nand gave striking evidences of ingenuity. Walking on the seashore\nhe picked up the spine of a fish. Imitating it, he took a piece of\niron and notched it on the edge, and thus invented the SAW. He put\ntwo pieces of iron together, connecting them at one end with a\nrivet, and sharpening the other ends, and made a PAIR OF\nCOMPASSES. Daedalus was so envious of his nepnew's performances\nthat he took an opportunity, when they were together one day on\nthe top of a high tower, to push him off. But Minerva, who favors\ningenuity, saw him falling, and arrested his fate by changing him\ninto a bird called after his name, the Partridge. This bird does\nnot build his nest in the trees, nor take lofty flights, but\nnestles in the hedges, and mindful of his fall, avoids high\nplaces.\n\nThe death of Icarus is told in the following lines by Darwin:\n\n    \"... with melting wax and loosened strings\n     Sunk hapless Icarus on unfaithful wings;\n     Headlong he rushed through the affrighted air,\n     With limbs distorted and dishevelled hair;\n     His scattered plumage danced upon the wave,\n     And sorrowing Nereids decked his watery grave;\n     O'er his pale corse their pearly sea-flowers shed,\n     And strewed with crimson moss his marble bed;\n     Struck in their coral towers the passing bell,\n     And wide in ocean tolled his echoing knell.\"\n\nCASTOR AND POLLUX\n\nCastor and Pollux were the offspring of Leda and the Swan, under\nwhich disguise Jupiter had concealed himself. Leda gave birth to\nan egg from which sprang the twins. Helen, so famous afterwards as\nthe cause of the Trojan war, was their sister.\n\nWhen Theseus and his friend Pirithous had carried off Helen from\nSparta, the youthful heroes Castor and Pollux, with their\nfollowers, hastened to her rescue. Theseus was absent from Attica\nand the brothers were successful in recovering their sister.\n\nCastor was famous for taming and managing horses, and Pollux for\nskill in boxing. They were united by the warmest affection and\ninseparable in all their enterprises. They accompanied the\nArgonautic expedition. During the voyage a storm arose, and\nOrpheus prayed to the Samothracian gods, and played on his harp,\nwhereupon the storm ceased and stars appeared on the heads of the\nbrothers. From this incident, Castor and Pollux came afterwards to\nbe considered the patron deities of seamen and voyagers, and the\nlambent flames, which in certain states of the atmosphere play\nround the sails and masts of vessels, were called by their names.\n\nAfter the Argonautic expedition, we find Castor and Pollux engaged\nin a war with Idas and Lynceus. Castor was slain, and Pollux,\ninconsolable for the loss of his brother, besought Jupiter to be\npermitted to give his own life as a ransom for him. Jupiter so far\nconsented as to allow the two brothers to enjoy the boon of life\nalternately, passing one day under the earth and the next in the\nheavenly abodes. According to another form of the story, Jupiter\nrewarded the attachment of the brothers by placing them among the\nstars as Gemini the Twins.\n\nThey received divine honors under the name of Dioscuri (sons of\nJove). They were believed to have appeared occasionally in later\ntimes, taking part with one side or the other, in hard-fought\nfields, and were said on such occasions to be mounted on\nmagnificent white steeds. Thus in the early history of Rome they\nare said to have assisted the Romans at the battle of Lake\nRegillus, and after the victory a temple was erected in their\nhonor on the spot where they appeared.\n\nMacaulay, in his \"Lays of Ancient Rome,\" thus alludes to the\nlegend:\n\n    \"So like they were, no mortal\n       Might one from other know;\n     White as snow their armor was,\n       Their steeds were white as snow.\n     Never on earthly anvil\n       Did such rare armor gleam,\n     And never did such gallant steeds\n       Drink of an earthly stream.\n\n    \"Back comes the chief in triumph\n       Who in the hour of fight\n     Hath seen the great Twin Brethren\n       In harness on his right.\n     Safe comes the ship to haven,\n       Through billows and through gales.\n     If once the great Twin Brethren\n       Sit shining on the sails.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nBACCHUS--ARIADNE\n\nBACCHUS\n\n\nBacchus was the son of Jupiter and Semele. Juno, to gratify her\nresentment against Semele, contrived a plan for her destruction.\nAssuming the form of Beroe, her aged nurse, she insinuated doubts\nwhether it was indeed Jove himself who came as a lover. Heaving a\nsigh, she said, \"I hope it will turn out so, but I can't help\nbeing afraid. People are not always what they pretend to be. If he\nis indeed Jove, make him give some proof of it. Ask him to come\narrayed in all his splendors, such as he wears in heaven. That\nwill put the matter beyond a doubt.\" Semele was persuaded to try\nthe experiment. She asks a favor, without naming what it is. Jove\ngives his promise, and confirms it with the irrevocable oath,\nattesting the river Styx, terrible to the gods themselves. Then\nshe made known her request. The god would have stopped her as she\nspake, but she was too quick for him. The words escaped, and he\ncould neither unsay his promise nor her request. In deep distress\nhe left her and returned to the upper regions. There he clothed\nhimself in his splendors, not putting on all his terrors, as when\nhe overthrew the giants, but what is known among the gods as his\nlesser panoply. Arrayed in this, he entered the chamber of Semele.\nHer mortal frame could not endure the splendors of the immortal\nradiance. She was consumed to ashes.\n\nJove took the infant Bacchus and gave him in charge to the Nysaean\nnymphs, who nourished his infancy and childhood, and for their\ncare were rewarded by Jupiter by being placed, as the Hyades,\namong the stars. When Bacchus grew up he discovered the culture of\nthe vine and the mode of extracting its precious juice; but Juno\nstruck him with madness, and drove him forth a wanderer through\nvarious parts of the earth. In Phrygia the goddess Rhea cured him\nand taught him her religious rites, and he set out on a progress\nthrough Asia, teaching the people the cultivation of the vine. The\nmost famous part of his wanderings is his expedition to India,\nwhich is said to have lasted several years. Returning in triumph,\nhe undertook to introduce his worship into Greece, but was opposed\nby some princes, who dreaded its introduction on account of the\ndisorders and madness it brought with it.\n\nAs he approached his native city Thebes, Pentheus the king, who\nhad no respect for the new worship, forbade its rites to be\nperformed. But when it was known that Bacchus was advancing, men\nand women, but chiefly the latter, young and old, poured forth to\nmeet him and to join his triumphal march.\n\nMr. Longfellow in his \"Drinking Song\" thus describes the march of\nBacchus:\n\n    \"Fauns with youthful Bacchus follow;\n       Ivy crowns that brow, supernal\n     As the forehead of Apollo,\n       And possessing youth eternal.\n\n    \"Round about him fair Bacchantes,\n       Bearing cymbals, flutes and thyrses,\n     Wild from Naxian groves of Zante's\n       Vineyards, sing delirious verses,\"\n\nIt was in vain Pentheus remonstrated, commanded, and threatened.\n\"Go,\" said he to his attendants, \"seize this vagabond leader of\nthe rout and bring him to me. I will soon make him confess his\nfalse claim of heavenly parentage and renounce his counterfeit\nworship.\" It was in vain his nearest friends and wisest\ncounsellors remonstrated and begged him not to oppose the god.\nTheir remonstrances only made him more violent.\n\nBut now the attendants returned whom he had despatched to seize\nBacchus. They had been driven away by the Bacchanals, but had\nsucceeded in taking one of them prisoner, whom, with his hands\ntied behind him, they brought before the king. Pentheus, beholding\nhim with wrathful countenance, said, \"Fellow! you shall speedily\nbe put to death, that your fate may be a warning to others; but\nthough I grudge the delay of your punishment, speak, tell us who\nyou are, and what are these new rites you presume to celebrate.\"\n\nThe prisoner, unterrified, responded, \"My name is Acetes; my\ncountry is Maeonia; my parents were poor people, who had no fields\nor flocks to leave me, but they left me their fishing rods and\nnets and their fisherman's trade. This I followed for some time,\ntill growing weary of remaining in one place, I learned the\npilot's art and how to guide my course by the stars. It happened\nas I was sailing for Delos we touched at the island of Dia and\nwent ashore. Next morning I sent the men for fresh water, and\nmyself mounted the hill to observe the wind; when my men returned\nbringing with them a prize, as they thought, a boy of delicate\nappearance, whom they had found asleep. They judged he was a noble\nyouth, perhaps a king's son, and they might get a liberal ransom\nfor him. I observed his dress, his walk, his face. There was\nsomething in them which I felt sure was more than mortal. I said\nto my men, 'What god there is concealed in that form I know not,\nbut some one there certainly is. Pardon us, gentle deity, for the\nviolence we have done you, and give success to our undertakings.'\nDictys, one of my best hands for climbing the mast and coming down\nby the ropes, and Melanthus, my steersman, and Epopeus, the leader\nof the sailor's cry, one and all exclaimed, 'Spare your prayers\nfor us.' So blind is the lust of gain! When they proceeded to put\nhim on board I resisted them. 'This ship shall not be profaned by\nsuch impiety,' said I. 'I have a greater share in her than any of\nyou.' But Lycabas, a turbulent fellow, seized me by the throat and\nattempted to throw me overboard, and I scarcely saved myself by\nclinging to the ropes. The rest approved the deed.\n\n\"Then Bacchus (for it was indeed he), as if shaking off his\ndrowsiness, exclaimed, 'What are you doing with me? What is this\nfighting about? Who brought me here? Where are you going to carry\nme?' One of them replied, 'Fear nothing; tell us where you wish to\ngo and we will take you there.' 'Naxos is my home,' said Bacchus;\n'take me there and you shall be well rewarded.' They promised so\nto do, and told me to pilot the ship to Naxos. Naxos lay to the\nright, and I was trimming the sails to carry us there, when some\nby signs and others by whispers signified to me their will that I\nshould sail in the opposite direction, and take the boy to Egypt\nto sell him for a slave. I was confounded and said, 'Let some one\nelse pilot the ship;' withdrawing myself from any further agency\nin their wickedness. They cursed me, and one of them, exclaiming,\n'Don't flatter yourself that we depend on you for our safety;'\ntook any place as pilot, and bore away from Naxos.\n\n\"Then the god, pretending that he had just become aware of their\ntreachery, looked out over the sea and said in a voice of weeping,\n'Sailors, these are not the shores you promised to take me to;\nyonder island is not my home. What have I done that you should\ntreat me so? It is small glory you will gain by cheating a poor\nboy.' I wept to hear him, but the crew laughed at both of us, and\nsped the vessel fast over the sea. All at once--strange as it may\nseem, it is true,--the vessel stopped, in the mid sea, as fast as\nif it was fixed on the ground. The men, astonished, pulled at\ntheir oars, and spread more sail, trying to make progress by the\naid of both, but all in vain. Ivy twined round the oars and\nhindered their motion, and clung to the sails, with heavy clusters\nof berries. A vine, laden with grapes, ran up the mast, and along\nthe sides of the vessel. The sound of flutes was heard and the\nodor of fragrant wine spread all around. The god himself had a\nchaplet of vine leaves, and bore in his hand a spear wreathed with\nivy. Tigers crouched at his feet, and forms of lynxes and spotted\npanthers played around him. The men were seized with terror or\nmadness; some leaped overboard; others preparing to do the same\nbeheld their companions in the water undergoing a change, their\nbodies becoming flattened and ending in a crooked tail. One\nexclaimed, 'What miracle is this!' and as he spoke his mouth\nwidened, his nostrils expanded, and scales covered all his body.\nAnother, endeavoring to pull the oar, felt his hands shrink up and\npresently to be no longer hands but fins; another, trying to raise\nhis arms to a rope, found he had no arms, and curving his\nmutilated body, jumped into the sea. What had been his legs became\nthe two ends of a crescent-shaped tail. The whole crew became\ndolphins and swam about the ship, now upon the surface, now under\nit, scattering the spray, and spouting the water from their broad\nnostrils. Of twenty men I alone was left. Trembling with fear, the\ngod cheered me. 'Fear not,' said he; 'steer towards Naxos.' I\nobeyed, and when we arrived there, I kindled the altars and\ncelebrated the sacred rites of Bacchus.\"\n\nPentheus here exclaimed, \"We have wasted time enough on this silly\nstory. Take him away and have him executed without delay.\" Acetes\nwas led away by the attendants and shut up fast in prison; but\nwhile they were getting ready the instruments of execution the\nprison doors came open of their own accord and the chains fell\nfrom his limbs, and when they looked for him he was nowhere to be\nfound.\n\nPentheus would take no warning, but instead of sending others,\ndetermined to go himself to the scene of the solemnities. The\nmountain Citheron was all alive with worshippers, and the cries of\nthe Bacchanals resounded on every side. The noise roused the anger\nof Pentheus as the sound of a trumpet does the fire of a war-\nhorse. He penetrated through the wood and reached an open space\nwhere the chief scene of the orgies met his eyes. At the same\nmoment the women saw him; and first among them his own mother,\nAgave, blinded by the god, cried out, \"See there the wild boar,\nthe hugest monster that prowls in these woods! Come on, sisters! I\nwill be the first to strike the wild boar.\" The whole band rushed\nupon him, and while he now talks less arrogantly, now excuses\nhimself, and now confesses his crime and implores pardon, they\npress upon him and wound him. In vain he cries to his aunts to\nprotect him from his mother. Autonoe seized one arm, Ino the\nother, and between them he was torn to pieces, while his mother\nshouted, \"Victory! Victory! we have done it; the glory is ours!\"\n\nSo the worship of Bacchus was established in Greece.\n\nThere is an allusion to the story of Bacchus and the mariners in\nMilton's \"Comus,\" at line 46, The story of Circe will be found in\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\n\n    \"Bacchus that first from out the purple grapes\n     Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine,\n     After the Tuscan manners transformed,\n     Coasting the Tyrrhene shore as the winds listed\n     On Circe's island fell (who knows not Circe,\n     The daughter of the Sun? whose charmed cup\n     Whoever tasted lost his upright shape,\n     And downward fell into a grovelling swine).\"\n\nARIADNE\n\n\nWe have seen in the story of Theseus how Ariadne, the daughter of\nKing Minos, after helping Theseus to escape from the labyrinth,\nwas carried by him to the island of Naxos and was left there\nasleep, while the ungrateful Theseus pursued his way home without\nher. Ariadne, on waking and finding herself deserted, abandoned\nherself to grief. But Venus took pity on her, and consoled her\nwith the promise that she should have an immortal lover, instead\nof the mortal one she had lost.\n\nThe island where Ariadne was left was the favorite island of\nBacchus, the same that he wished the Tyrrhenian mariners to carry\nhim to, when they so treacherously attempted to make prize of him.\nAs Ariadne sat lamenting her fate, Bacchus found her, consoled\nher, and made her his wife. As a marriage present he gave her a\ngolden crown, enriched with gems, and when she died, he took her\ncrown and threw it up into the sky. As it mounted the gems grew\nbrighter and were turned into stars, and preserving its form\nAriadne's crown remains fixed in the heavens as a constellation,\nbetween the kneeling Hercules and the man who holds the serpent.\n\nSpenser alludes to Ariadne's crown, though he has made some\nmistakes in his mythology. It was at the wedding of Pirithous, and\nnot Theseus, that the Centaurs and Lapithae quarrelled.\n\n    \"Look how the crown which Ariadne wore\n    Upon her ivory forehead that same day\n    That Theseus her unto his bridal bore,\n    Then the bold Centaurs made that bloody fray\n    With the fierce Lapiths which did them dismay;\n    Being now placed in the firmament,\n    Through the bright heaven doth her beams display,\n    And is unto the stars an ornament,\n    Which round about her move in order excellent.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nTHE RURAL DEITIES--ERISICHTHON--RHOECUS--THE WATER DEITIES--\nCAMENAE--WINDS\n\nTHE RURAL DEITIES\n\n\nPan, the god of woods and fields, of flocks and shepherds, dwelt\nin grottos, wandered on the mountains and in valleys, and amused\nhimself with the chase or in leading the dances of the nymphs. He\nwas fond of music, and as we have seen, the inventor of the\nsyrinx, or shepherd's pipe, which he himself played in a masterly\nmanner. Pan, like other gods who dwelt in forests, was dreaded by\nthose whose occupations caused them to pass through the woods by\nnight, for the gloom and loneliness of such scenes dispose the\nmind to superstitious fears. Hence sudden fright without any\nvisible cause was ascribed to Pan, and called a Panic terror.\n\nAs the name of the god signifies ALL, Pan came to be considered a\nsymbol of the universe and personification of Nature; and later\nstill to be regarded as a representative of all the gods and of\nheathenism itself.\n\nSylvanus and Faunus were Latin divinities, whose characteristics\nare so nearly the same as those of Pan that we may safely consider\nthem as the same personage under different names.\n\nThe wood-nymphs, Pan's partners in the dance, were but one class\nof nymphs. There were beside them the Naiads, who presided over\nbrooks and fountains, the Oreads, nymphs of mountains and grottos,\nand the Nereids, sea-nymphs. The three last named were immortal,\nbut the wood-nymphs, called Dryads or Hamadryads, were believed to\nperish with the trees which had been their abode and with which\nthey had come into existence. It was therefore an impious act\nwantonly to destroy a tree, and in some aggravated cases were\nseverely punished, as in the instance of Erisichthon, which we are\nabout to record.\n\nMilton in his glowing description of the early creation, thus\nalludes to Pan as the personification of Nature:\n\n    \"... Universal Pan,\n     Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance,\n     Led on the eternal spring.\"\n\nAnd describing Eve's abode:\n\n    \"... In shadier bower,\n     More sacred or sequestered, though but feigned,\n     Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph\n     Nor Faunus haunted.\"\n\n    --Paradise Lost, B. IV.\n\nIt was a pleasing trait in the old Paganism that it loved to trace\nin every operation of nature the agency of deity. The imagination\nof the Greeks peopled all the regions of earth and sea with\ndivinities, to whose agency it attributed those phenomena which\nour philosophy ascribes to the operation of the laws of nature.\nSometimes in our poetical moods we feel disposed to regret the\nchange, and to think that the heart has lost as much as the head\nhas gained by the substitution. The poet Wordsworth thus strongly\nexpresses this sentiment:\n\n    \"... Great God, I'd rather be\n    A Pagan, suckled in a creed outworn,\n    So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,\n     Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;\n     Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,\n     And hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.\"\n\nSchiller, in his poem \"Die Gotter Griechenlands,\" expresses his\nregret for the overthrow of the beautiful mythology of ancient\ntimes in a way which has called forth an answer from a Christian\npoet, Mrs. E. Barrett Browning, in her poem called \"The Dead Pan.\"\nThe two following verses are a specimen:\n\n    \"By your beauty which confesses\n     Some chief Beauty conquering you,\n     By our grand heroic guesses\n     Through your falsehood at the True,\n     We will weep NOT! earth shall roll\n     Heir to each god's aureole,\n                   And Pan is dead.\n\n    \"Earth outgrows the mythic fancies\n     Sung beside her in her youth;\n     And those debonaire romances\n     Sound but dull beside the truth.\n     Phoebus' chariot course is run!\n     Look up, poets, to the sun!\n                      Pan, Pan is dead.\"\n\nThese lines are founded on an early Christian tradition that when\nthe heavenly host told the shepherds at Bethlehem of the birth of\nChrist, a deep groan, heard through all the isles of Greece, told\nthat the great Pan was dead, and that all the royalty of Olympus\nwas dethroned and the several deities were sent wandering in cold\nand darkness. So Milton in his \"Hymn on the Nativity\":\n\n    \"The lonely mountains o'er,\n     And the resounding shore,\n       A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;\n     From haunted spring and dale,\n     Edged with poplar pale,\n       The parting Genius is with sighing sent;\n     With flower-enwoven tresses torn,\n     The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.\"\n\nERISICHTHON\n\nErisichthon was a profane person and a despiser of the gods. On\none occasion he presumed to violate with the axe a grove sacred to\nCeres. There stood in this grove a venerable oak so large that it\nseemed a wood in itself, its ancient trunk towering aloft, whereon\nvotive garlands were often hung and inscriptions carved expressing\nthe gratitude of suppliants to the nymph of the tree. Often had\nthe Dryads danced round it hand in hand. Its trunk measured\nfifteen cubits round, and it overtopped the other trees as they\novertopped the shrubbery. But for all that, Erisichthon saw no\nreason why he should spare it and he ordered his servants to cut\nit down. When he saw them hesitate he snatched an axe from one,\nand thus impiously exclaimed: \"I care not whether it be a tree\nbeloved of the goddess or not; were it the goddess herself it\nshould come down if it stood in my way.\" So saying, he lifted the\naxe and the oak seemed to shudder and utter a groan. When the\nfirst blow fell upon the trunk blood flowed from the wound. All\nthe bystanders were horror-struck, and one of them ventured to\nremonstrate and hold back the fatal axe. Erisichthon, with a\nscornful look, said to him, \"Receive the reward of your piety;\"\nand turned against him the weapon which he had held aside from the\ntree, gashed his body with many wounds, and cut off his head. Then\nfrom the midst of the oak came a voice, \"I who dwell in this tree\nam a nymph beloved of Ceres, and dying by your hands forewarn you\nthat punishment awaits you.\" He desisted not from his crime, and\nat last the tree, sundered by repeated blows and drawn by ropes,\nfell with a crash and prostrated a great part of the grove in its\nfall.\n\nThe Dryads in dismay at the loss of their companion and at seeing\nthe pride of the forest laid low, went in a body to Ceres, all\nclad in garments of mourning, and invoked punishment upon\nErisichthon. She nodded her assent, and as she bowed her head the\ngrain ripe for harvest in the laden fields bowed also. She planned\na punishment so dire that one would pity him, if such a culprit as\nhe could be pitied,--to deliver him over to Famine. As Ceres\nherself could not approach Famine, for the Fates have ordained\nthat these two goddesses shall never come together, she called an\nOread from her mountain and spoke to her in these words: \"There is\na place in the farthest part of ice-clad Scythia, a sad and\nsterile region without trees and without crops. Cold dwells there,\nand Fear and Shuddering, and Famine. Go and tell the last to take\npossession of the bowels of Erisichthon. Let not abundance subdue\nher, nor the power of my gifts drive her away. Be not alarmed at\nthe distance\" (for Famine dwells very far from Ceres), \"but take\nmy chariot. The dragons are fleet and obey the rein, and will take\nyou through the air in a short time.\" So she gave her the reins,\nand she drove away and soon reached Scythia. On arriving at Mount\nCaucasus she stopped the dragons and found Famine in a stony\nfield, pulling up with teeth and claws the scanty herbage. Her\nhair was rough, her eyes sunk, her face pale, her lips blanched,\nher jaws covered with dust, and her skin drawn tight, so as to\nshow all her bones. As the Oread saw her afar off (for she did not\ndare to come near), she delivered the commands of Ceres; and,\nthough she stopped as short a time as possible, and kept her\ndistance as well as she could, yet she began to feel hungry, and\nturned the dragons' heads and drove back to Thessaly.\n\nFamine obeyed the commands of Ceres and sped through the air to\nthe dwelling of Erisichthon, entered the bedchamber of the guilty\nman, and found him asleep. She enfolded him with her wings and\nbreathed herself into him, infusing her poison into his veins.\nHaving discharged her task, she hastened to leave the land of\nplenty and returned to her accustomed haunts. Erisichthon still\nslept, and in his dreams craved food, and moved his jaws as if\neating. When he awoke, his hunger was raging. Without a moment's\ndelay he would have food set before him, of whatever kind earth\nsea, or air produces; and complained of hunger even while he ate.\nWhat would have sufficed for a city or a nation, was not enough\nfor him. The more he ate the more he craved. His hunger was like\nthe sea, which receives all the rivers, yet is never filled; or\nlike fire, that burns all the fuel that is heaped upon it, yet is\nstill voracious for more.\n\nHis property rapidly diminished under the unceasing demands of his\nappetite, but his hunger continued unabated. At length he had\nspent all and had only his daughter left, a daughter worthy of a\nbetter parent. Her too he sold. She scorned to be the slave of a\npurchaser and as she stood by the seaside raised her hands in\nprayer to Neptune. He heard her prayer, and though her new master\nwas not far off and had his eye upon her a moment before, Neptune\nchanged her form and made her assume that of a fisherman busy at\nhis occupation. Her master, looking for her and seeing her in her\naltered form, addressed her and said, \"Good fisherman, whither\nwent the maiden whom I saw just now, with hair dishevelled and in\nhumble garb, standing about where you stand? Tell me truly; so may\nyour luck be good and not a fish nibble at your hook and get\naway.\" She perceived that her prayer was answered and rejoiced\ninwardly at hearing herself inquired of about herself. She\nreplied, \"Pardon me, stranger, but I have been so intent upon my\nline that I have seen nothing else; but I wish I may never catch\nanother fish if I believe any woman or other person except myself\nto have been hereabouts for some time.\" He was deceived and went\nhis way, thinking his slave had escaped. Then she resumed her own\nform. Her father was well pleased to find her still with him, and\nthe money too that he got by the sale of her; so he sold her\nagain. But she was changed by the favor of Neptune as often as she\nwas sold, now into a horse, now a bird, now an ox, and now a\nstag,--got away from her purchasers and came home. By this base\nmethod the starving father procured food; but not enough for his\nwants, and at last hunger compelled him to devour his limbs, and\nhe strove to nourish his body by eating his body, till death\nrelieved him from the vengeance of Ceres.\n\nRHOECUS\n\nThe Hamadryads could appreciate services as well as punish\ninjuries. The story of Rhoecus proves this. Rhoecus, happening to\nsee an oak just ready to fall, ordered his servants to prop it up.\nThe nymph, who had been on the point of perishing with the tree,\ncame and expressed her gratitude to him for having saved her life\nand bade him ask what reward he would. Rhoecus boldly asked her\nlove and the nymph yielded to his desire. She at the same time\ncharged him to be constant and told him that a bee should be her\nmessenger and let him know when she would admit his society. One\ntime the bee came to Rhoecus when he was playing at draughts and\nhe carelessly brushed it away. This so incensed the nymph that she\ndeprived him of sight.\n\nOur countryman, J. R. Lowell, has taken this story for the subject\nof one of his shorter poems. He introduces it thus:\n\n    \"Hear now this fairy legend of old Greece,\n     As full of freedom, youth and beauty still,\n     As the immortal freshness of that grace\n     Carved for all ages on some Attic frieze.\"\n\nTHE WATER DEITIES\n\nOceanus and Tethys were the Titans who ruled over the watery\nelement. When Jove and his brothers overthrew the Titans and\nassumed their power, Neptune and Amphitrite succeeded to the\ndominion of the waters in place of Oceanus and Tethys.\n\nNEPTUNE\n\nNeptune was the chief of the water deities. The symbol of his\npower was the trident, or spear with three points, with which he\nused to shatter rocks, to call forth or subdue storms, to shake\nthe shores and the like. He created the horse and was the patron\nof horse races. His own horses had brazen hoofs and golden manes.\nThey drew his chariot over the sea, which became smooth before\nhim, while the monsters of the deep gambolled about his path.\n\nAMPHITRITE\n\nAmphitrite was the wife of Neptune. She was the daughter of Nereus\nand Doris, and the mother of Triton. Neptune, to pay his court to\nAmphitrite, came riding on a dolphin. Having won her he rewarded\nthe dolphin by placing him among the stars.\n\nNEREUS AND DORIS\n\nNereus and Doris were the parents of the Nereids, the most\ncelebrated of whom were Amphitrite, Thetis, the mother of\nAchilles, and Galatea, who was loved by the Cyclops Polyphemus.\nNereus was distinguished for his knowledge and his love of truth\nand justice, whence he was termed an elder; the gift of prophecy\nwas also assigned to him.\n\nTRITON AND PROTEUS\n\nTriton was the son of Neptune and Amphitrite, and the poets make\nhim his father's trumpeter. Proteus was also a son of Neptune. He,\nlike Nereus, is styled a sea-elder for his wisdom and knowledge of\nfuture events. His peculiar power was that of changing his shape\nat will.\n\nTHETIS\n\nThetis, the daughter of Nereus and Doris, was so beautiful that\nJupiter himself sought her in marriage; but having learned from\nPrometheus the Titan that Thetis should bear a son who should grow\ngreater than his father, Jupiter desisted from his suit and\ndecreed that Thetis should be the wife of a mortal. By the aid of\nChiron the Centaur, Peleus succeeded in winning the goddess for\nhis bride and their son was the renowned Achilles. In our chapter\non the Trojan war it will appear that Thetis was a faithful mother\nto him, aiding him in all difficulties, and watching over his\ninterests from the first to the last.\n\nLEUCOTHEA AND PALAEMON\n\nIno, the daughter of Cadmus and wife of Athamas, flying from her\nfrantic husband with her little son Melicertes in her arms, sprang\nfrom a cliff into the sea. The gods, out of compassion, made her a\ngoddess of the sea, under the name of Leucothea, and him a god,\nunder that of Palaemon. Both were held powerful to save from\nshipwreck and were invoked by sailors. Palaemon was usually\nrepresented riding on a dolphin. The Isthmian games were\ncelebrated in his honor. He was called Portunus by the Romans, and\nbelieved to have jurisdiction of the ports and shores.\n\nMilton alludes to all these deities in the song at the conclusion\nof \"Comus\":\n\n    \"... Sabrina fair,\n     Listen and appear to us,\n     In name of great Oceanus;\n     By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace,\n     And Tethys' grave, majestic pace,\n     By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,\n     And the Carpathian wizard's hook, [Footnote: Proteus]\n     By scaly Triton's winding shell,\n     And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell,\n     By Leucothea's lovely hands,\n     And her son who rules the strands.\n     By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,\n     And the songs of Sirens sweet;\" etc.\n\nArmstrong, the poet of the \"Art of preserving Health,\" under the\ninspiration of Hygeia, the goddess of health, thus celebrates the\nNaiads. Paeon is a name both of Apollo and Aesculapius.\n\n    \"Come, ye Naiads! to the fountains lead!\n     Propitious maids! the task remains to sing\n     Your gifts (so Paeon, so the powers of Health\n     Command), to praise your crystal element.\n     O comfortable streams! with eager lips\n     And trembling hands the languid thirsty quaff\n     New life in you; fresh vigor fills their veins.\n     No warmer cups the rural ages knew,\n     None warmer sought the sires of humankind;\n     Happy in temperate peace their equal days\n     Felt not the alternate fits of feverish mirth\n     And sick dejection; still serene and pleased,\n     Blessed with divine immunity from ills,\n     Long centuries they lived; their only fate\n     Was ripe old age, and rather sleep than death.\"\n\nTHE CAMENAE\n\nBy this name the Latins designated the Muses, but included under\nit also some other deities, principally nymphs of fountains.\nEgeria was one of them, whose fountain and grotto are still shown.\nIt was said that Numa, the second king of Rome, was favored by\nthis nymph with secret interviews, in which she taught him those\nlessons of wisdom and of law which he imbodied in the institutions\nof his rising nation. After the death of Numa the nymph pined away\nand was changed into a fountain.\n\nByron, in \"Childe Harold,\" Canto IV., thus alludes to Egeria and\nher grotto:\n\n    \"Here didst thou dwell, in this enchanted cover,\n     Egeria! all thy heavenly bosom beating\n     For the far footsteps of thy mortal lover;\n     The purple midnight veiled that mystic meeting\n     With her most starry canopy;\" etc.\n\nTennyson, also, in his \"Palace of Art,\" gives us a glimpse of the\nroyal lover expecting the interview:\n\n    \"Holding one hand against his ear,\n        To list a footfall ere he saw\n     The wood-nymph, stayed the Tuscan king to hear\n        Of wisdom and of law.\"\n\nTHE WINDS\n\nWhen so many less active agencies were personified, it is not to\nbe supposed that the winds failed to be so. They were Boreas or\nAquilo, the north wind; Zephyrus or Favonius, the west; Notus or\nAuster, the south; and Eurus, the east. The first two have been\nchiefly celebrated by the poets, the former as the type of\nrudeness, the latter of gentleness. Boreas loved the nymph\nOrithyia, and tried to play the lover's part, but met with poor\nsuccess. It was hard for him to breathe gently, and sighing was\nout of the question. Weary at last of fruitless endeavors, he\nacted out his true character, seized the maiden and carried her\noff. Their children were Zetes and Calais, winged warriors, who\naccompanied the Argonautic expedition, and did good service in an\nencounter with those monstrous birds the Harpies.\n\nZephyrus was the lover of Flora. Milton alludes to them in\n\"Paradise Lost,\" where he describes Adam waking and contemplating\nEve still asleep.\n\n    \"... He on his side\n     Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love,\n     Hung over her enamored, and beheld\n     Beauty which, whether waking or asleep,\n     Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice,\n     Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,\n     Her hand soft touching, whispered thus: 'Awake!\n     My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,\n     Heaven's last, best gift, my ever-new delight.'\"\n\nDr. Young, the poet of the \"Night Thoughts,\" addressing the idle\nand luxurious, says:\n\n    \"Ye delicate! who nothing can support\n     (Yourselves most insupportable) for whom\n     The winter rose must blow, ...\n     ... and silky soft\n     Favonius breathe still softer or be chid!\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nACHELOUS AND HERCULES--ADMETUS AND ALCESTIS--ANTIGONE--PENELOPE\n\nACHELOUS AND HERCULES\n\n\nThe river-god Achelous told the story of Erisichthon to Theseus\nand his companions, whom he was entertaining at his hospitable\nboard, while they were delayed on their journey by the overflow of\nhis waters. Having finished his story, he added, \"But why should I\ntell of other persons' transformations when I myself am an\ninstance of the possession of this power? Sometimes I become a\nserpent, and sometimes a bull, with horns on my head. Or I should\nsay I once could do so; but now I have but one horn, having lost\none.\" And here he groaned and was silent.\n\nTheseus asked him the cause of his grief, and how he lost his\nhorn. To which question the river-god replied as follows: \"Who\nlikes to tell of his defeats? Yet I will not hesitate to relate\nmine, comforting myself with the thought of the greatness of my\nconqueror, for it was Hercules. Perhaps you have heard of the fame\nof Dejanira, the fairest of maidens, whom a host of suitors strove\nto win. Hercules and myself were of the number, and the rest\nyielded to us two. He urged in his behalf his descent from Jove\nand his labors by which he had exceeded the exactions of Juno, his\nstepmother. I, on the other hand, said to the father of the\nmaiden, 'Behold me, the king of the waters that flow through your\nland. I am no stranger from a foreign shore, but belong to the\ncountry, a part of your realm. Let it not stand in my way that\nroyal Juno owes me no enmity nor punishes me with heavy tasks. As\nfor this man, who boasts himself the son of Jove, it is either a\nfalse pretence, or disgraceful to him if true, for it cannot be\ntrue except by his mother's shame.' As I said this Hercules\nscowled upon me, and with difficulty restrained his rage. 'My hand\nwill answer better than my tongue,' said he. 'I yield to you the\nvictory in words, but trust my cause to the strife of deeds.' With\nthat he advanced towards me, and I was ashamed, after what I had\nsaid, to yield. I threw off my green vesture and presented myself\nfor the struggle. He tried to throw me, now attacking my head, now\nmy body. My bulk was my protection, and he assailed me in vain.\nFor a time we stopped, then returned to the conflict. We each kept\nour position, determined not to yield, foot to foot, I bending\nover him, clenching his hand in mine, with my forehead almost\ntouching his. Thrice Hercules tried to throw me off, and the\nfourth time he succeeded, brought me to the ground, and himself\nupon my back. I tell you the truth, it was as if a mountain had\nfallen on me. I struggled to get my arms at liberty, panting and\nreeking with perspiration. He gave me no chance to recover, but\nseized my throat. My knees were on the earth and my mouth in the\ndust.\n\n\"Finding that I was no match for him in the warrior's art, I\nresorted to others and glided away in the form of a serpent. I\ncurled my body in a coil and hissed at him with my forked tongue.\nHe smiled scornfully at this, and said, 'It was the labor of my\ninfancy to conquer snakes.' So saying he clasped my neck with his\nhands. I was almost choked, and struggled to get my neck out of\nhis grasp. Vanquished in this form, I tried what alone remained to\nme and assumed the form of a bull. He grasped my neck with his\narm, and dragging my head down to the ground, overthrew me on the\nsand. Nor was this enough. His ruthless hand rent my horn from my\nhead. The Naiades took it, consecrated it, and filled it with\nfragrant flowers. Plenty adopted my horn and made it her own, and\ncalled it 'Cornucopia.'\"\n\nThe ancients were fond of finding a hidden meaning in their\nmythological tales. They explain this fight of Achelous with\nHercules by saying Achelous was a river that in seasons of rain\noverflowed its banks. When the fable says that Achelous loved\nDejanira, and sought a union with her, the meaning is that the\nriver in its windings flowed through part of Dejanira's kingdom.\nIt was said to take the form of a snake because of its winding,\nand of a bull because it made a brawling or roaring in its course.\nWhen the river swelled, it made itself another channel. Thus its\nhead was horned. Hercules prevented the return of these periodical\noverflows by embankments and canals; and therefore he was said to\nhave vanquished the river-god and cut off his horn. Finally, the\nlands formerly subject to overflow, but now redeemed, became very\nfertile, and this is meant by the horn of plenty.\n\nThere is another account of the origin of the Cornucopia. Jupiter\nat his birth was committed by his mother Rhea to the care of the\ndaughters of Melisseus, a Cretan king. They fed the infant deity\nwith the milk of the goat Amalthea. Jupiter broke off one of the\nhorns of the goat and gave it to his nurses, and endowed it with\nthe wonderful power of becoming filled with whatever the possessor\nmight wish.\n\nThe name of Amalthea is also given by some writers to the mother\nof Bacchus. It is thus used by Milton, \"Paradise Lost,\" Book IV.:\n\n    \"... That Nyseian isle,\n     Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham,\n     Whom Gentiles Ammon call, and Libyan Jove,\n     Hid Amalthea and her florid son,\n     Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye.\"\n\nADMETUS AND ALCESTIS\n\nAesculapius, the son of Apollo, was endowed by his father with\nsuch skill in the healing art that he even restored the dead to\nlife. At this Pluto took alarm, and prevailed on Jupiter to launch\na thunderbolt at Aesculapius. Apollo was indignant at the\ndestruction of his son, and wreaked his vengeance on the innocent\nworkmen who had made the thunderbolt. These were the Cyclopes, who\nhave their workshop under Mount Aetna, from which the smoke and\nflames of their furnaces are constantly issuing. Apollo shot his\narrows at the Cyclopes, which so incensed Jupiter that he\ncondemned him as a punishment to become the servant of a mortal\nfor the space of one year. Accordingly Apollo went into the\nservice of Admetus, king of Thessaly, and pastured his flocks for\nhim on the verdant banks of the river Amphrysos.\n\nAdmetus was a suitor, with others, for the hand of Alcestis, the\ndaughter of Pelias, who promised her to him who should come for\nher in a chariot drawn by lions and boars. This task Admetus\nperformed by the assistance of his divine herdsman, and was made\nhappy in the possession of Alcestis. But Admetus fell ill, and\nbeing near to death, Apollo prevailed on the Fates to spare him on\ncondition that some one would consent to die in his stead.\nAdmetus, in his joy at this reprieve, thought little of the\nransom, and perhaps remembering the declarations of attachment\nwhich he had often heard from his courtiers and dependents fancied\nthat it would be easy to find a substitute. But it was not so.\nBrave warriors, who would willingly have perilled their lives for\ntheir prince, shrunk from the thought of dying for him on the bed\nof sickness; and old servants who had experienced his bounty and\nthat of his house from their childhood up, were not willing to lay\ndown the scanty remnant of their days to show their gratitude. Men\nasked, \"Why does not one of his parents do it? They cannot in the\ncourse of nature live much longer, and who can feel like them the\ncall to rescue the life they gave from an untimely end?\" But the\nparents, distressed though they were at the thought of losing him,\nshrunk from the call. Then Alcestis, with a generous self-\ndevotion, proffered herself as the substitute. Admetus, fond as he\nwas of life, would not have submitted to receive it at such a\ncost; but there was no remedy. The condition imposed by the Fates\nhad been met, and the decree was irrevocable. Alcestis sickened as\nAdmetus revived, and she was rapidly sinking to the grave.\n\nJust at this time Hercules arrived at the palace of Admetus, and\nfound all the inmates in great distress for the impending loss of\nthe devoted wife and beloved mistress. Hercules, to whom no labor\nwas too arduous, resolved to attempt her rescue. He went and lay\nin wait at the door of the chamber of the dying queen, and when\nDeath came for his prey, he seized him and forced him to resign\nhis victim. Alcestis recovered, and was restored to her husband.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Alcestis in his Sonnet \"on his\ndeceased wife:\"\n\n    \"Methought I saw my late espoused saint\n       Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,\n       Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,\n     Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint.\"\n\nJ. R. Lowell has chosen the \"Shepherd of King Admetus\" for the\nsubject of a short poem. He makes that event the first\nintroduction of poetry to men.\n\n    \"Men called him but a shiftless youth,\n       In whom no good they saw,\n     And yet unwittingly, in truth,\n       They made his careless words their law.\n\n    \"And day by day more holy grew\n       Each spot where he had trod,\n     Till after-poets only knew\n       Their first-born brother was a god.\"\n\nANTIGONE\n\nA large proportion both of the interesting persons and of the\nexalted acts of legendary Greece belongs to the female sex.\nAntigone was as bright an example of filial and sisterly fidelity\nas was Alcestis of connubial devotion. She was the daughter of\nOedipus and Jocasta, who with all their descendants were the\nvictims of an unrelenting fate, dooming them to destruction.\nOEdipus in his madness had torn out his eyes, and was driven forth\nfrom his kingdom Thebes, dreaded and abandoned by all men, as an\nobject of divine vengeance. Antigone, his daughter, alone shared\nhis wanderings and remained with him till he died, and then\nreturned to Thebes.\n\nHer brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, had agreed to share the\nkingdom between them, and reign alternately year by year. The\nfirst year fell to the lot of Eteocles, who, when his time\nexpired, refused to surrender the kingdom to his brother.\nPolynices fled to Adrastus, king of Argos, who gave him his\ndaughter in marriage, and aided him with an army to enforce his\nclaim to the kingdom. This led to the celebrated expedition of the\n\"Seven against Thebes,\" which furnished ample materials for the\nepic and tragic poets of Greece.\n\nAmphiaraus, the brother-in-law of Adrastus, opposed the\nenterprise, for he was a soothsayer, and knew by his art that no\none of the leaders except Adrastus would live to return. But\nAmphiaraus, on his marriage to Eriphyle, the king's sister, had\nagreed that whenever he and Adrastus should differ in opinion, the\ndecision should be left to Eriphyle. Polynices, knowing this, gave\nEriphyle the collar of Harmonia, and thereby gained her to his\ninterest. This collar or necklace was a present which Vulcan had\ngiven to Harmonia on her marriage with Cadmus, and Polynices had\ntaken it with him on his flight from Thebes. Eriphyle could not\nresist so tempting a bribe, and by her decision the war was\nresolved on, and Amphiaraus went to his certain fate. He bore his\npart bravely in the contest, but could not avert his destiny.\nPursued by the enemy, he fled along the river, when a thunderbolt\nlaunched by Jupiter opened the ground, and he, his chariot, and\nhis charioteer were swallowed up.\n\nIt would not be in place here to detail all the acts of heroism or\natrocity which marked the contest; but we must not omit to record\nthe fidelity of Evadne as an offset to the weakness of Eriphyle.\nCapaneus, the husband of Evadne, in the ardor of the fight\ndeclared that he would force his way into the city in spite of\nJove himself. Placing a ladder against the wall he mounted, but\nJupiter, offended at his impious language, struck him with a\nthunderbolt. When his obsequies were celebrated, Evadne cast\nherself on his funeral pile and perished.\n\nEarly in the contest Eteocles consulted the soothsayer Tiresias as\nto the issue. Tiresias in his youth had by chance seen Minerva\nbathing. The goddess in her wrath deprived him of his sight, but\nafterwards relenting gave him in compensation the knowledge of\nfuture events. When consulted by Eteocles, he declared that\nvictory should fall to Thebes if Menoeceus, the son of Creon, gave\nhimself a voluntary victim. The heroic youth, learning the\nresponse, threw away his life in the first encounter.\n\nThe siege continued long, with various success. At length both\nhosts agreed that the brothers should decide their quarrel by\nsingle combat. They fought and fell by each other's hands. The\narmies then renewed the fight, and at last the invaders were\nforced to yield, and fled, leaving their dead unburied. Creon, the\nuncle of the fallen princes, now become king, caused Eteocles to\nbe buried with distinguished honor, but suffered the body of\nPolynices to lie where it fell, forbidding every one on pain of\ndeath to give it burial.\n\nAntigone, the sister of Polynices, heard with indignation the\nrevolting edict which consigned her brother's body to the dogs and\nvultures, depriving it of those rites which were considered\nessential to the repose of the dead. Unmoved by the dissuading\ncounsel of an affectionate but timid sister, and unable to procure\nassistance, she determined to brave the hazard, and to bury the\nbody with her own hands. She was detected in the act, and Creon\ngave orders that she should be buried alive, as having\ndeliberately set at naught the solemn edict of the city. Her\nlover, Haemon, the son of Creon, unable to avert her fate, would\nnot survive her, and fell by his own hand.\n\nAntigone forms the subject of two fine tragedies of the Grecian\npoet Sophocles. Mrs. Jameson, in her \"Characteristics of Women,\"\nhas compared her character with that of Cordelia, in Shakspeare's\n\"King Lear.\" The perusal of her remarks cannot fail to gratify our\nreaders.\n\nThe following is the lamentation of Antigone over OEdipus, when\ndeath has at last relieved him from his sufferings:\n\n    \"Alas! I only wished I might have died\n     With my poor father; wherefore should I ask\n     For longer life?\n     O, I was fond of misery with him;\n     E'en what was most unlovely grew beloved\n     When he was with me. O my dearest father,\n     Beneath the earth now in deep darkness hid,\n     Worn as thou wert with age, to me thou still\n     Wast dear, and shalt be ever.\"\n\n    --Francklin's Sophocles.\n\nPENELOPE\n\nPenelope is another of those mythic heroines whose beauties were\nrather those of character and conduct than of person. She was the\ndaughter of Icarius, a Spartan prince. Ulysses, king of Ithaca,\nsought her in marriage, and won her, over all competitors. When\nthe moment came for the bride to leave her father's house,\nIcarius, unable to bear the thoughts of parting with his daughter,\ntried to persuade her to remain with him, and not accompany her\nhusband to Ithaca. Ulysses gave Penelope her choice, to stay or go\nwith him. Penelope made no reply, but dropped her veil over her\nface. Icarius urged her no further, but when she was gone erected\na statue to Modesty on the spot where they parted.\n\nUlysses and Penelope had not enjoyed their union more than a year\nwhen it was interrupted by the events which called Ulysses to the\nTrojan war. During his long absence, and when it was doubtful\nwhether he still lived, and highly improbable that he would ever\nreturn, Penelope was importuned by numerous suitors, from whom\nthere seemed no refuge but in choosing one of them for her\nhusband. Penelope, however, employed every art to gain time, still\nhoping for Ulysses' return. One of her arts of delay was engaging\nin the preparation of a robe for the funeral canopy of Laertes,\nher husband's father. She pledged herself to make her choice among\nthe suitors when the robe was finished. During the day she worked\nat the robe, but in the night she undid the work of the day. This\nis the famous Penelope's web, which is used as a proverbial\nexpression for anything which is perpetually doing but never done.\nThe rest of Penelope's history will be told when we give an\naccount of her husband's adventures.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nORPHEUS AND EURYDICE--ARISTAEUS--AMPHION--LINUS--THAMYRIS--\nMARSYAS--MELAMPUS--MUSAEUS\n\nORPHEUS AND EURYDICE\n\n\nOrpheus was the son of Apollo and the Muse Calliope. He was\npresented by his father with a Lyre and taught to play upon it,\nwhich he did to such perfection that nothing could withstand the\ncharm of his music. Not only his fellow-mortals but wild beasts\nwere softened by his strains, and gathering round him laid by\ntheir fierceness, and stood entranced with his lay. Nay, the very\ntrees and rocks were sensible to the charm. The former crowded\nround him and the latter relaxed somewhat of their hardness,\nsoftened by his notes.\n\nHymen had been called to bless with his presence the nuptials of\nOrpheus with Eurydice; but though he attended, he brought no happy\nomens with him. His very torch smoked and brought tears into their\neyes. In coincidence with such prognostics, Eurydice, shortly\nafter her marriage, while wandering with the nymphs, her\ncompanions, was seen by the shepherd Aristaeus, who was struck\nwith her beauty and made advances to her. She fled, and in flying\ntrod upon a snake in the grass, was bitten in the foot, and died.\nOrpheus sang his grief to all who breathed the upper air, both\ngods and men, and finding it all unavailing resolved to seek his\nwife in the regions of the dead. He descended by a cave situated\non the side of the promontory of Taenarus and arrived at the\nStygian realm. He passed through crowds of ghosts and presented\nhimself before the throne of Pluto and Proserpine. Accompanying\nthe words with the lyre, he sung, \"O deities of the underworld, to\nwhom all we who live must come, hear my words, for they are true.\nI come not to spy out the secrets of Tartarus, nor to try my\nstrength against the three-headed dog with snaky hair who guards\nthe entrance. I come to seek my wife, whose opening years the\npoisonous viper's fang has brought to an untimely end. Love has\nled me here, Love, a god all powerful with us who dwell on the\nearth, and, if old traditions say true, not less so here. I\nimplore you by these abodes full of terror, these realms of\nsilence and uncreated things, unite again the thread of Eurydice's\nlife. We all are destined to you and sooner or later must pass to\nyour domain. She too, when she shall have filled her term of life,\nwill rightly be yours. But till then grant her to me, I beseech\nyou. If you deny me I cannot return alone; you shall triumph in\nthe death of us both.\"\n\nAs he sang these tender strains, the very ghosts shed tears.\nTantalus, in spite of his thirst, stopped for a moment his efforts\nfor water, Ixion's wheel stood still, the vulture ceased to tear\nthe giant's liver, the daughters of Danaus rested from their task\nof drawing water in a sieve, and Sisyphus sat on his rock to\nlisten. Then for the first time, it is said, the cheeks of the\nFuries were wet with tears. Proserpine could not resist, and Pluto\nhimself gave way. Eurydice was called. She came from among the\nnew-arrived ghosts, limping with her wounded foot. Orpheus was\npermitted to take her away with him on one condition, that he\nshould not turn around to look at her till they should have\nreached the upper air. Under this condition they proceeded on\ntheir way, he leading, she following, through passages dark and\nsteep, in total silence, till they had nearly reached the outlet\ninto the cheerful upper world, when Orpheus, in a moment of\nforgetfulness, to assure himself that she was still following,\ncast a glance behind him, when instantly she was borne away.\nStretching out their arms to embrace each other, they grasped only\nthe air! Dying now a second time, she yet cannot reproach her\nhusband, for how can she blame his impatience to behold her?\n\"Farewell,\" she said, \"a last farewell,\"--and was hurried away, so\nfast that the sound hardly reached his ears.\n\nOrpheus endeavored to follow her, and besought permission to\nreturn and try once more for her release; but the stern ferryman\nrepulsed him and refused passage. Seven days he lingered about the\nbrink, without food or sleep; then bitterly accusing of cruelty\nthe powers of Erebus, he sang his complaints to the rocks and\nmountains, melting the hearts of tigers and moving the oaks from\ntheir stations. He held himself aloof from womankind, dwelling\nconstantly on the recollection of his sad mischance. The Thracian\nmaidens tried their best to captivate him, but he repulsed their\nadvances. They bore with him as long as they could; but finding\nhim insensible one day, excited by the rites of Bacchus, one of\nthem exclaimed, \"See yonder our despiser!\" and threw at him her\njavelin. The weapon, as soon as it came within the sound of his\nlyre, fell harmless at his feet. So did also the stones that they\nthrew at him. But the women raised a scream and drowned the voice\nof the music, and then the missiles reached him and soon were\nstained with his blood. The maniacs tore him limb from limb, and\nthrew his head and his lyre into the river Hebrus, down which they\nfloated, murmuring sad music, to which the shores responded a\nplaintive symphony. The Muses gathered up the fragments of his\nbody and buried them at Libethra, where the nightingale is said to\nsing over his grave more sweetly than in any other part of Greece.\nHis lyre was placed by Jupiter among the stars. His shade passed a\nsecond time to Tartarus, where he sought out his Eurydice and\nembraced her with eager arms. They roam the happy fields together\nnow, sometimes he leading, sometimes she; and Orpheus gazes as\nmuch as he will upon her, no longer incurring a penalty for a\nthoughtless glance.\n\nThe story of Orpheus has furnished Pope with an illustration of\nthe power of music, for his \"Ode for St. Cecilia's Day\" The\nfollowing stanza relates the conclusion of the story:\n\n    \"But soon, too soon the lover turns his eyes;\n     Again she falls, again she dies, she dies!\n     How wilt thou now the fatal sisters move?\n     No crime was thine, if't is no crime to love.\n         Now under hanging mountains,\n         Beside the falls of fountains,\n         Or where Hebrus wanders,\n         Rolling in meanders,\n             All alone,\n             He makes his moan,\n             And calls her ghost,\n           Forever, ever, ever lost!\n         Now with furies surrounded,\n         Despairing, confounded,\n         He trembles, he glows,\n         Amidst Rhodope's snows\n     See, wild as the winds o'er the desert he flies;\n     Hark! Haemus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries;\n         Ah, see, he dies!\n     Yet even in death Eurydice he sung,\n     Eurydice still trembled on his tongue:\n     Eurydice the woods\n     Eurydice the floods\n     Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung\"\n\nThe superior melody of the nightingale's song over the grave of\nOrpheus is alluded to by Southey in his \"Thalaba\":\n\n        \"Then on his ear what sounds\n           Of harmony arose'\n     Far music and the distance-mellowed song\n         From bowers of merriment,\n           The waterfall remote,\n       The murmuring of the leafy groves;\n           The single nightingale\n     Perched in the rosier by, so richly toned,\n     That never from that most melodious bird\n     Singing a love song to his brooding mate,\n       Did Thracian shepherd by the grave\n       Of Orpheus hear a sweeter melody,\n     Though there the spirit of the sepulchre\n       All his own power infuse, to swell\n       The incense that he loves\"\n\nARISTAEUS, THE BEE-KEEPER\n\nMan avails himself of the instincts of the inferior animals for\nhis own advantage. Hence sprang the art of keeping bees. Honey\nmust first have been known as a wild product, the bees building\ntheir structures in hollow trees or holes in the rocks, or any\nsimilar cavity that chance offered. Thus occasionally the carcass\nof a dead animal would be occupied by the bees for that purpose.\nIt was no doubt from some such incident that the superstition\narose that the bees were engendered by the decaying flesh of the\nanimal; and Virgil, in the following story, shows how this\nsupposed fact may be turned to account for renewing the swarm when\nit has been lost by disease or accident:\n\nAristaeus, who first taught the management of bees, was the son of\nthe water-nymph Cyrene. His bees had perished, and he resorted for\naid to his mother. He stood at the river side and thus addressed\nher: \"O mother, the pride of my life is taken from me! I have lost\nmy precious bees. My care and skill have availed me nothing, and\nyou my mother have not warded off from me the blow of misfortune.\"\nHis mother heard these complaints as she sat in her palace at the\nbottom of the river, with her attendant nymphs around her. They\nwere engaged in female occupations, spinning and weaving, while\none told stories to amuse the rest. The sad voice of Aristaeus\ninterrupting their occupation, one of them put her head above the\nwater and seeing him, returned and gave information to his mother,\nwho ordered that he should be brought into her presence. The river\nat her command opened itself and let him pass in, while it stood\ncurled like a mountain on either side. He descended to the region\nwhere the fountains of the great rivers lie; he saw the enormous\nreceptacles of waters and was almost deafened with the roar, while\nhe surveyed them hurrying off in various directions to water the\nface of the earth. Arriving at his mother's apartment, he was\nhospitably received by Cyrene and her nymphs, who spread their\ntable with the richest dainties. They first poured out libations\nto Neptune, then regaled themselves with the feast, and after that\nCyrene thus addressed him: \"There is an old prophet named Proteus,\nwho dwells in the sea and is a favorite of Neptune, whose herd of\nsea-calves he pastures. We nymphs hold him in great respect, for\nhe is a learned sage and knows all things, past, present, and to\ncome. He can tell you, my son, the cause of the mortality among\nyour bees, and how you may remedy it. But he will not do it\nvoluntarily, however you may entreat him. You must compel him by\nforce. If you seize him and chain him, he will answer your\nquestions in order to get released, for he cannot by all his arts\nget away if you hold fast the chains. I will carry you to his\ncave, where he comes at noon to take his midday repose. Then you\nmay easily secure him. But when he finds himself captured, his\nresort is to a power he possesses of changing himself into various\nforms. He will become a wild boar or a fierce tiger, a scaly\ndragon or lion with yellow mane. Or he will make a noise like the\ncrackling of flames or the rush of water, so as to tempt you to\nlet go the chain, when he will make his escape. But you have only\nto keep him fast bound, and at last when he finds all his arts\nunavailing, he will return to his own figure and obey your\ncommands.\" So saying she sprinkled her son with fragrant nectar,\nthe beverage of the gods, and immediately an unusual vigor filled\nhis frame, and courage his heart, while perfume breathed all\naround him.\n\nThe nymph led her son to the prophet's cave and concealed him\namong the recesses of the rocks, while she herself took her place\nbehind the clouds. When noon came and the hour when men and herds\nretreat from the glaring sun to indulge in quiet slumber, Proteus\nissued from the water, followed by his herd of sea-calves which\nspread themselves along the shore. He sat on the rock and counted\nhis herd; then stretched himself on the floor of the cave and went\nto sleep. Aristaeus hardly allowed him to get fairly asleep before\nhe fixed the fetters on him and shouted aloud. Proteus, waking and\nfinding himself captured, immediately resorted to his arts,\nbecoming first a fire, then a flood, then a horrible wild beast,\nin rapid succession. But finding all would not do, he at last\nresumed his own form and addressed the youth in angry accents:\n\"Who are you, bold youth, who thus invade my abode, and what do\nyot want of me?\" Aristaeus replied, \"Proteus, you know already,\nfor it is needless for any one to attempt to deceive you. And do\nyou also cease your efforts to elude me. I am led hither by divine\nassistance, to know from you the cause of my misfortune and how to\nremedy it.\" At these words the prophet, fixing on him his gray\neyes with a piercing look, thus spoke: \"You receive the merited\nreward of your deeds, by which Eurydice met her death, for in\nflying from you she trod upon a serpent, of whose bite she died.\nTo avenge her death, the nymphs, her companions, have sent this\ndestruction to your bees. You have to appease their anger, and\nthus it must be done: Select four bulls, of perfect form and size,\nand four cows of equal beauty, build four altars to the nymphs,\nand sacrifice the animals, leaving their carcasses in the leafy\ngrove. To Orpheus and Eurydice you shall pay such funeral honors\nas may allay their resentment. Returning after nine days, you will\nexamine the bodies of the cattle slain and see what will befall.\"\nAristaeus faithfully obeyed these directions. He sacrificed the\ncattle, he left their bodies in the grove, he offered funeral\nhonors to the shades of Orpheus and Eurydice; then returning on\nthe ninth day he examined the bodies of the animals, and,\nwonderful to relate! a swarm of bees had taken possession of one\nof the carcasses and were pursuing their labors there as in a\nhive.\n\nIn \"The Task,\" Cowper alludes to the story of Aristaeus, when\nspeaking of the ice-palace built by the Empress Anne of Russia. He\nhas been describing the fantastic forms which ice assumes in\nconnection with waterfalls, etc.:\n\n    \"Less worthy of applause though more admired\n     Because a novelty, the work of man,\n     Imperial mistress of the fur-clad Russ,\n     Thy most magnificent and mighty freak,\n     The wonder of the north. No forest fell\n     When thou wouldst build, no quarry sent its stores\n     T' enrich thy walls; but thou didst hew the floods\n     And make thy marble of the glassy wave.\n     In such a palace Aristaeus found\n     Cyrene, when he bore the plaintive tale\n     Of his lost bees to her maternal ear.\"\n\nMilton also appears to have had Cyrene and her domestic scene in\nhis mind when he describes to us Sabrina, the nymph of the river\nSevern, in the Guardian-spirit's Song in \"Comus\":\n\n          \"Sabrina fair!\n       Listen where thou art sitting\n     Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave\n       In twisted braids of lilies knitting\n     The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;\n       Listen for dear honor's sake,\n       Goddess of the silver lake!\n            Listen and save.\"\n\nThe following are other celebrated mythical poets and musicians,\nsome of whom were hardly inferior to Orpheus himself:\n\nAMPHION\n\nAmphion was the son of Jupiter and Antiope, queen of Thebes. With\nhis twin brother Zethus he was exposed at birth on Mount\nCithaeron, where they grew up among the shepherds, not knowing\ntheir parentage. Mercury gave Amphion a lyre and taught him to\nplay upon it, and his brother occupied himself in hunting and\ntending the flocks. Meanwhile Antiope, their mother, who had been\ntreated with great cruelty by Lycus, the usurping king of Thebes,\nand by Dirce, his wife, found means to inform her children of\ntheir rights and to summon them to her assistance. With a band of\ntheir fellow-herdsmen they attacked and slew Lycus, and tying\nDirce by the hair of her head to a bull, let him drag her till she\nwas dead. Amphion, having become king of Thebes, fortified the\ncity with a wall. It is said that when he played on his lyre the\nstones moved of their own accord and took their places in the\nwall.\n\nSee Tennyson's poem of \"Amphion\" for an amusing use made of this\nstory.\n\nLINUS\n\nLinus was the instructor of Hercules in music, but having one day\nreproved his pupil rather harshly, he roused the anger of\nHercules, who struck him with his lyre and killed him.\n\nTHAMYRIS\n\nAn ancient Thracian bard, who in his presumption challenged the\nMuses to a trial of skill, and being overcome in the contest, was\ndeprived by them of his sight. Milton alludes to him with other\nblind bards, when speaking of his own blindness, \"Paradise Lost,\"\nBook III., 35.\n\nMARSYAS\n\nMinerva invented the flute, and played upon it to the delight of\nall the celestial auditors; but the mischievous urchin Cupid\nhaving dared to laugh at the queer face which the goddess made\nwhile playing, Minerva threw the instrument indignantly away, and\nit fell down to earth, and was found by Marsyas. He blew upon it,\nand drew from it such ravishing sounds that he was tempted to\nchallenge Apollo himself to a musical contest. The god of course\ntriumphed, and punished Marsyas by flaying him alive.\n\nMELAMPUS\n\nMelampus was the first mortal endowed with prophetic powers.\nBefore his house there stood an oak tree containing a serpent's\nnest. The old serpents were killed by the servants, but Melampus\ntook care of the young ones and fed them carefully. One day when\nhe was asleep under the oak the serpents licked his ears with\ntheir tongues. On awaking he was astonished to find that he now\nunderstood the language of birds and creeping things. This\nknowledge enabled him to foretell future events, and he became a\nrenowned soothsayer. At one time his enemies took him captive and\nkept him strictly imprisoned. Melampus in the silence of the night\nheard the woodworms in the timbers talking together, and found out\nby what they said that the timbers were nearly eaten through and\nthe roof would soon fall in. He told his captors and demanded to\nbe let out, warning them also. They took his warning, and thus\nescaped destruction, and rewarded Melampus and held him in high\nhonor.\n\nMUSAEUS A semi-mythological personage who was represented by one\ntradition to be the son of Orpheus. He is said to have written\nsacred poems and oracles. Milton couples his name with that of\nOrpheus in his \"Il Penseroso\":\n\n    \"But O, sad virgin, that thy power\n     Might raise Musaeus from his bower,\n     Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing\n     Such notes as warbled to the string,\n     Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,\n     And made Hell grant what love did seek.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nARION--IBYCUS--SIMONIDES--SAPPHO\n\n\nThe poets whose adventures compose this chapter were real persons\nsome of whose works yet remain, and their influence on poets who\nsucceeded them is yet more important than their poetical remains.\nThe adventures recorded of them in the following stories rest on\nthe same authority as other narratives of the \"Age of Fable,\" that\nis, of the poets who have told them. In their present form, the\nfirst two are translated from the German, Arion from Schlegel, and\nIbycus from Schiller.\n\nARION\n\nArion was a famous musician, and dwelt in the court of Periander,\nking of Corinth, with whom he was a great favorite. There was to\nbe a musical contest in Sicily, and Arion longed to compete for\nthe prize. He told his wish to Periander, who besought him like a\nbrother to give up the thought. \"Pray stay with me,\" he said, \"and\nbe contented. He who strives to win may lose.\" Arion answered, \"A\nwandering life best suits the free heart of a poet. The talent\nwhich a god bestowed on me, I would fain make a source of pleasure\nto others. And if I win the prize, how will the enjoyment of it be\nincreased by the consciousness of my widespread fame!\" He went,\nwon the prize, and embarked with his wealth in a Corinthian ship\nfor home. On the second morning after setting sail, the wind\nbreathed mild and fair. \"O Periander,\" he exclaimed, \"dismiss your\nfears! Soon shall you forget them in my embrace. With what lavish\nofferings will we display our gratitude to the gods, and how merry\nwill we be at the festal board!\" The wind and sea continued\npropitious. Not a cloud dimmed the firmament. He had not trusted\ntoo much to the ocean--but he had to man. He overheard the seamen\nexchanging hints with one another, and found they were plotting to\npossess themselves of his treasure. Presently they surrounded him\nloud and mutinous, and said, \"Arion, you must die! If you would\nhave a grave on shore, yield yourself to die on this spot; but if\notherwise, cast yourself into the sea.\" \"Will nothing satisfy you\nbut my life?\" said he. \"Take my gold, and welcome. I willingly buy\nmy life at that price.\" \"No, no; we cannot spare you. Your life\nwould be too dangerous to us. Where could we go to escape from\nPeriander, if he should know that you had been robbed by us? Your\ngold would be of little use to us, if on returning home, we could\nnever more be free from fear.\" \"Grant me, then,\" said he, \"a last\nrequest, since nought will avail to save my life, that I may die,\nas I have lived, as becomes a bard. When I shall have sung my\ndeath song, and my harp-strings shall have ceased to vibrate, then\nI will bid farewell to life, and yield uncomplaining to my fate.\"\nThis prayer, like the others, would have been unheeded,--they\nthought only of their booty,--but to hear so famous a musician,\nthat moved their rude hearts. \"Suffer me,\" he added, \"to arrange\nmy dress. Apollo will not favor me unless I be clad in my minstrel\ngarb.\"\n\nHe clothed his well-proportioned limbs in gold and purple fair to\nsee, his tunic fell around him in graceful folds, jewels adorned\nhis arms, his brow was crowned with a golden wreath, and over his\nneck and shoulders flowed his hair perfumed with odors. His left\nhand held the lyre, his right the ivory wand with which he struck\nits chords. Like one inspired, he seemed to drink the morning air\nand glitter in the morning ray. The seamen gazed with admiration.\nHe strode forward to the vessel's side and looked down into the\ndeep blue sea. Addressing his lyre, he sang, \"Companion of my\nvoice, come with me to the realm of shades. Though Cerberus may\ngrowl, we know the power of song can tame his rage. Ye heroes of\nElysium, who have passed the darkling flood,--ye happy souls, soon\nshall I join your band. Yet can ye relieve my grief? Alas, I leave\nmy friend behind me. Thou, who didst find thy Eurydice, and lose\nher again as soon as found; when she had vanished like a dream,\nhow didst thou hate the cheerful light! I must away, but I will\nnot fear. The gods look down upon us. Ye who slay me unoffending,\nwhen I am no more, your time of trembling shall come. Ye Nereids,\nreceive your guest, who throws himself upon your mercy!\" So\nsaying, he sprang into the deep sea. The waves covered him, and\nthe seamen held on their way, fancying themselves safe from all\ndanger of detection.\n\nBut the strains of his music had drawn round him the inhabitants\nof the deep to listen, and Dolphins followed the ship as if\nchained by a spell. While he struggled in the waves, a Dolphin\noffered him his back, and carried him mounted thereon safe to\nshore. At the spot where he landed, a monument of brass was\nafterwards erected upon the rocky shore, to preserve the memory of\nthe event.\n\nWhen Arion and the dolphin parted, each to his own element, Arion\nthus poured forth his thanks: \"Farewell, thou faithful, friendly\nfish! Would that I could reward thee; but thou canst not wend with\nme, nor I with thee. Companionship we may not have. May Galatea,\nqueen of the deep, accord thee her favor, and thou, proud of the\nburden, draw her chariot over the smooth mirror of the deep.\"\n\nArion hastened from the shore, and soon saw before him the towers\nof Corinth. He journeyed on, harp in hand, singing as he went,\nfull of love and happiness, forgetting his losses, and mindful\nonly of what remained, his friend and his lyre. He entered the\nhospitable halls, and was soon clasped in the embrace of\nPeriander. \"I come back to thee, my friend,\" he said. \"The talent\nwhich a god bestowed has been the delight of thousands, but false\nknaves have stripped me of my well-earned treasure; yet I retain\nthe consciousness of wide spread fame.\" Then he told Periander all\nthe wonderful events that had befallen him, who heard him with\namazement. \"Shall such wickedness triumph?\" said he. \"Then in vain\nis power lodged in my hands. That we may discover the criminals,\nyou must remain here in concealment, and so they will approach\nwithout suspicion.\" When the ship arrived in the harbor, he\nsummoned the mariners before him. \"Have you heard anything of\nArion?\" he inquired. \"I anxiously look for his return.\" They\nreplied, \"We left him well and prosperous in Tarentum.\" As they\nsaid these words, Arion stepped forth and faced them. His well-\nproportioned limbs were arrayed in gold and purple fair to see,\nhis tunic fell around him in graceful folds, jewels adorned his\narms, his brow was crowned with a golden wreath, and over his neck\nand shoulders flowed his hair perfumed with odors; his left hand\nheld the lyre, his right the ivory wand with which he struck its\nchords. They fell prostrate at his feet, as if a lightning bolt\nhad struck them. \"We meant to murder him, and he has become a god.\nO Earth, open and receive us!\" Then Periander spoke. \"He lives,\nthe master of the lay! Kind Heaven protects the poet's life. As\nfor you, I invoke not the spirit of vengeance; Arion wishes not\nyour blood. Ye slaves of avarice, begone! Seek some barbarous\nland, and never may aught beautiful delight your souls!\"\n\nSpenser represents Arion, mounted on his dolphin, accompanying the\ntrain of Neptune and Amphitrite:\n\n    \"Then was there heard a most celestial sound\n     Of dainty music which did next ensue,\n     And, on the floating waters as enthroned,\n     Arion with his harp unto him drew\n     The ears and hearts of all that goodly crew;\n     Even when as yet the dolphin which him bore\n     Through the Aegean Seas from pirates' view,\n     Stood still, by him astonished at his lore,\n     And all the raging seas for joy forgot to roar.\"\n\nByron, in his \"Childe Harold,\" Canto II., alludes to the story of\nArion, when, describing his voyage, he represents one of the\nseamen making music to entertain the rest:\n\n    \"The moon is up; by Heaven a lovely eve!\n     Long streams of light o'er dancing waves expand;\n     Now lads on shore may sigh and maids believe;\n     Such be our fate when we return to land!\n     Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand\n     Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love;\n     A circle there of merry listeners stand,\n     Or to some well-known measure featly move\n   Thoughtless as if on shore they still were free to rove.\"\n\nIBYCUS\n\nIn order to understand the story of Ibycus which follows it is\nnecessary to remember, first, that the theatres of the ancients\nwere immense fabrics capable of containing from ten to thirty\nthousand spectators, and as they were used only on festival\noccasions, and admission was free to all, they were usually\nfilled. They were without roofs and open to the sky, and the\nperformances were in the daytime. Secondly, the appalling\nrepresentation of the Furies is not exaggerated in the story. It\nis recorded that Aeschylus, the tragic poet, having on one\noccasion represented the Furies in a chorus of fifty performers,\nthe terror of the spectators was such that many fainted and were\nthrown into convulsions, and the magistrates forbade a like\nrepresentation for the future.\n\nIbycus, the pious poet, was on his way to the chariot races and\nmusical competitions held at the Isthmus of Corinth, which\nattracted all of Grecian lineage. Apollo had bestowed on him the\ngift of song, the honeyed lips of the poet, and he pursued his way\nwith lightsome step, full of the god. Already the towers of\nCorinth crowning the height appeared in view, and he had entered\nwith pious awe the sacred grove of Neptune. No living object was\nin sight, only a flock of cranes flew overhead taking the same\ncourse as himself in their migration to a southern clime. \"Good\nluck to you, ye friendly squadrons,\" he exclaimed, \"my companions\nfrom across the sea. I take your company for a good omen. We come\nfrom far and fly in search of hospitality. May both of us meet\nthat kind reception which shields the stranger guest from harm!\"\n\nHe paced briskly on, and soon was in the middle of the wood. There\nsuddenly, at a narrow pass, two robbers stepped forth and barred\nhis way. He must yield or fight. But his hand, accustomed to the\nlyre, and not to the strife of arms, sank powerless. He called for\nhelp on men and gods, but his cry reached no defender's ear. \"Then\nhere must I die,\" said he, \"in a strange land, unlamented, cut off\nby the hand of outlaws, and see none to avenge my cause.\" Sore\nwounded, he sank to the earth, when hoarse screamed the cranes\noverhead. \"Take up my cause, ye cranes,\" he said, \"since no voice\nbut yours answers to my cry.\" So saying he closed his eyes in\ndeath.\n\nThe body, despoiled and mangled, was found, and though disfigured\nwith wounds, was recognized by the friend in Corinth who had\nexpected him as a guest. \"Is it thus I find you restored to me?\"\nhe exclaimed. \"I who hoped to entwine your temples with the wreath\nof triumph in the strife of song!\"\n\nThe guests assembled at the festival heard the tidings with\ndismay. All Greece felt the wound, every heart owned its loss.\nThey crowded round the tribunal of the magistrates, and demanded\nvengeance on the murderers and expiation with their blood.\n\nBut what trace or mark shall point out the perpetrator from amidst\nthe vast multitude attracted by the splendor of the feast? Did he\nfall by the hands of robbers or did some private enemy slay him?\nThe all-discerning sun alone can tell, for no other eye beheld\nit. Yet not improbably the murderer even now walks in the midst of\nthe throng, and enjoys the fruits of his crime, while vengeance\nseeks for him in vain. Perhaps in their own temple's enclosure he\ndefies the gods mingling freely in this throng of men that now\npresses into the amphitheatre.\n\nFor now crowded together, row on row, the multitude fill the seats\ntill it seems as if the very fabric would give way. The murmur of\nvoices sounds like the roar of the sea, while the circles widening\nin their ascent rise tier on tier, as if they would reach the sky.\n\nAnd now the vast assemblage listens to the awful voice of the\nchorus personating the Furies, which in solemn guise advances with\nmeasured step, and moves around the circuit of the theatre. Can\nthey be mortal women who compose that awful group, and can that\nvast concourse of silent forms be living beings?\n\nThe choristers, clad in black, bore in their fleshless hands\ntorches blazing with a pitchy flame. Their cheeks were bloodless,\nand in place of hair writhing and swelling serpents curled around\ntheir brows. Forming a circle, these awful beings sang their\nhymns, rending the hearts of the guilty, and enchaining all their\nfaculties. It rose and swelled, overpowering the sound of the\ninstruments, stealing the judgment, palsying the heart, curdling\nthe blood.\n\n\"Happy the man who keeps his heart pure from guilt and crime! Him\nwe avengers touch not; he treads the path of life secure from us.\nBut woe! woe! to him who has done the deed of secret murder. We\nthe fearful family of Night fasten ourselves upon his whole being.\nThinks he by flight to escape us? We fly still faster in pursuit,\ntwine our snakes around his feet, and bring him to the ground.\nUnwearied we pursue; no pity checks our course; still on and on,\nto the end of life, we give him no peace nor rest.\" Thus the\nEumenides sang, and moved in solemn cadence, while stillness like\nthe stillness of death sat over the whole assembly as if in the\npresence of superhuman beings; and then in solemn march completing\nthe circuit of the theatre, they passed out at the back of the\nstage.\n\nEvery heart fluttered between illusion and reality, and every\nbreast panted with undefined terror, quailing before the awful\npower that watches secret crimes and winds unseen the skein of\ndestiny. At that moment a cry burst forth from one of the\nuppermost benches--\"Look! look! comrade, yonder are the cranes of\nIbycus!\" And suddenly there appeared sailing across the sky a dark\nobject which a moment's inspection showed to be a flock of cranes\nflying directly over the theatre. \"Of Ibycus! did he say?\" The\nbeloved name revived the sorrow in every breast. As wave follows\nwave over the face of the sea, so ran from mouth to mouth the\nwords, \"Of Ibycus! him whom we all lament, whom some murderer's\nhand laid low! What have the cranes to do with him?\" And louder\ngrew the swell of voices, while like a lightning's flash the\nthought sped through every heart, \"Observe the power of the\nEumenides! The pious poet shall be avenged! the murderer has\ninformed against himself. Seize the man who uttered that cry and\nthe other to whom he spoke!\"\n\nThe culprit would gladly have recalled his words, but it was too\nlate. The faces of the murderers, pale with terror, betrayed their\nguilt. The people took them before the judge, they confessed their\ncrime, and suffered the punishment they deserved.\n\nSIMONIDES\n\nSimonides was one of the most prolific of the early poets of\nGreece, but only a few fragments of his compositions have\ndescended to us. He wrote hymns, triumphal odes, and elegies. In\nthe last species of composition he particularly excelled. His\ngenius was inclined to the pathetic, and none could touch with\ntruer effect the chords of human sympathy. The \"Lamentation of\nDanae,\" the most important of the fragments which remain of his\npoetry, is based upon the tradition that Danae and her infant son\nwere confined by order of her father, Acrisius, in a chest and set\nadrift on the sea. The chest floated towards the island of\nSeriphus, where both were rescued by Dictys, a fisherman, and\ncarried to Polydectes, king of the country, who received and\nprotected them. The child, Perseus, when grown up became a famous\nhero, whose adventures have been recorded in a previous chapter.\n\nSimonides passed much of his life at the courts of princes, and\noften employed his talents in panegyric and festal odes, receiving\nhis reward from the munificence of those whose exploits he\ncelebrated. This employment was not derogatory, but closely\nresembles that of the earliest bards, such as Demodocus, described\nby Homer, or of Homer himself, as recorded by tradition.\n\nOn one occasion, when residing at the court of Scopas, king of\nThessaly, the prince desired him to prepare a poem in celebration\nof his exploits, to be recited at a banquet. In order to diversify\nhis theme, Simonides, who was celebrated for his piety, introduced\ninto his poem the exploits of Castor and Pollux. Such digressions\nwere not unusual with the poets on similar occasions, and one\nmight suppose an ordinary mortal might have been content to share\nthe praises of the sons of Leda. But vanity is exacting; and as\nScopas sat at his festal board among his courtiers and sycophants,\nhe grudged every verse that did not rehearse his own praises. When\nSimonides approached to receive the promised reward Scopas\nbestowed but half the expected sum, saying, \"Here is payment for\nmy portion of thy performance; Castor and Pollux will doubtless\ncompensate thee for so much as relates to them.\" The disconcerted\npoet returned to his seat amidst the laughter which followed the\ngreat man's jest. In a little time he received a message that two\nyoung men on horseback were waiting without and anxious to see\nhim. Simonides hastened to the door, but looked in vain for the\nvisitors. Scarcely, however, had he left the banqueting hall when\nthe roof fell in with a loud crash, burying Scopas and all his\nguests beneath the ruins. On inquiring as to the appearance of the\nyoung men who had sent for him, Simonides was satisfied that they\nwere no other than Castor and Pollux themselves.\n\nSAPPHO\n\nSappho was a poetess who flourished in a very early age of Greek\nliterature. Of her works few fragments remain, but they are enough\nto establish her claim to eminent poetical genius. The story of\nSappho commonly alluded to is that she was passionately in love\nwith a beautiful youth named Phaon, and failing to obtain a return\nof affection she threw herself from the promontory of Leucadia\ninto the sea, under a superstition that those who should take that\n\"Lover's-leap\" would, if not destroyed, be cured of their love.\n\nByron alludes to the story of Sappho in \"Childe Harold,\" Canto\nII.:\n\n   \"Childe Harold sailed and passed the barren spot\n    Where sad Penelope o'erlooked the wave,\n    And onward viewed the mount, not yet forgot,\n    The lover's refuge and the Lesbian's grave.\n    Dark Sappho! could not verse immortal save\n    That breast imbued with such immortal fire?\n\n   \"'Twas on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve\n    Childe Harold hailed Leucadia's cape afar;\" etc.\n\nThose who wish to know more of Sappho and her \"leap\" are referred\nto the \"Spectator,\" Nos. 223 and 229. See also Moore's \"Evenings\nin Greece.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nENDYMION--ORION--AURORA AND TITHONUS--ACIS AND GALATEA\n\nDIANA AND ENDYMION\n\n\nEndymion was a beautiful youth who fed his flock on Mount Latmos.\nOne calm, clear night Diana, the moon, looked down and saw him\nsleeping. The cold heart of the virgin goddess was warmed by his\nsurpassing beauty, and she came down to him, kissed him, and\nwatched over him while he slept.\n\nAnother story was that Jupiter bestowed on him the gift of\nperpetual youth united with perpetual sleep. Of one so gifted we\ncan have but few adventures to record. Diana, it was said, took\ncare that his fortunes should not suffer by his inactive life, for\nshe made his flock increase, and guarded his sheep and lambs from\nthe wild beasts.\n\nThe story of Endymion has a peculiar charm from the human meaning\nwhich it so thinly veils. We see in Endymion the young poet, his\nfancy and his heart seeking in vain for that which can satisfy\nthem, finding his favorite hour in the quiet moonlight, and\nnursing there beneath the beams of the bright and silent witness\nthe melancholy and the ardor which consumes him. The story\nsuggests aspiring and poetic love, a life spent more in dreams\nthan in reality, and an early and welcome death.--S. G. B.\n\nThe \"Endymion\" of Keats is a wild and fanciful poem, containing\nsome exquisite poetry, as this, to the moon:\n\n   \"... The sleeping kine\n    Couched in thy brightness dream of fields divine.\n    Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,\n    Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes,\n    And yet thy benediction passeth not\n    One obscure hiding-place, one little spot\n    Where pleasure may be sent; the nested wren\n    Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken;\" etc., etc.\n\nDr. Young, in the \"Night Thoughts,\" alludes to Endymion thus:\n\n   \"... These thoughts, O night, are thine;\n    From thee they came like lovers' secret sighs,\n    While others slept. So Cynthia, poets feign,\n    In shadows veiled, soft, sliding from her sphere,\n    Her shepherd cheered, of her enamoured less\n    Than I of thee.\"\n\nFletcher, in the \"Faithful Shepherdess,\" tells:\n\n   \"How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove,\n    First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes\n    She took eternal fire that never dies;\n    How she conveyed him softly in a sleep,\n    His temples bound with poppy, to the steep\n    Head of old Latmos, where she stoops each night,\n    Gilding the mountain with her brother's light,\n    To kiss her sweetest.\"\n\nORION\n\nOrion was the son of Neptune. He was a handsome giant and a mighty\nhunter. His father gave him the power of wading through the depths\nof the sea, or, as others say, of walking on its surface.\n\nOrion loved Merope, the daughter of Oenopion, king of Chios, and\nsought her in marriage. He cleared the island of wild beasts, and\nbrought the spoils of the chase as presents to his beloved; but as\nOenopion constantly deferred his consent, Orion attempted to gain\npossession of the maiden by violence. Her father, incensed at this\nconduct, having made Orion drunk, deprived him of his sight and\ncast him out on the seashore. The blinded hero followed the sound\nof a Cyclops' hammer till he reached Lemnos, and came to the forge\nof Vulcan, who, taking pity on him, gave him Kedalion, one of his\nmen, to be his guide to the abode of the sun. Placing Kedalion on\nhis shoulders, Orion proceeded to the east, and there meeting the\nsun-god, was restored to sight by his beam.\n\nAfter this he dwelt as a hunter with Diana, with whom he was a\nfavorite, and it is even said she was about to marry him. Her\nbrother was highly displeased and often chid her, but to no\npurpose. One day, observing Orion wading through the sea with his\nhead just above the water, Apollo pointed it out to his sister and\nmaintained that she could not hit that black thing on the sea. The\narcher-goddess discharged a shaft with fatal aim. The waves rolled\nthe dead body of Orion to the land, and bewailing her fatal error\nwith many tears, Diana placed him among the stars, where he\nappears as a giant, with a girdle, sword, lion's skin, and club.\nSirius, his dog, follows him, and the Pleiads fly before him.\n\nThe Pleiads were daughters of Atlas, and nymphs of Diana's train.\nOne day Orion saw them and became enamoured and pursued them. In\ntheir distress they prayed to the gods to change their form, and\nJupiter in pity turned them into pigeons, and then made them a\nconstellation in the sky. Though their number was seven, only six\nstars are visible, for Electra, one of them, it is said left her\nplace that she might not behold the ruin of Troy, for that city\nwas founded by her son Dardanus. The sight had such an effect on\nher sisters that they have looked pale ever since.\n\nMr. Longfellow has a poem on the \"Occultation of Orion.\" The\nfollowing lines are those in which he alludes to the mythic story.\nWe must premise that on the celestial globe Orion is represented\nas robed in a lion's skin and wielding a club. At the moment the\nstars of the constellation, one by one, were quenched in the light\nof the moon, the poet tells us\n\n   \"Down fell the red skin of the lion\n    Into the river at his feet.\n    His mighty club no longer beat\n    The forehead of the bull; but he\n    Reeled as of yore beside the sea,\n    When blinded by Oenopion\n      He sought the blacksmith at his forge,\n      And climbing up the narrow gorge,\n    Fixed his blank eyes upon the sun.\"\n\nTennyson has a different theory of the Pleiads:\n\n   \"Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow\n      shade,\n    Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.\"\n\n    --Locksley Hall.\n\nByron alludes to the lost Pleiad:\n\n\"Like the lost Pleiad seen no more below.\"\n\nSee also Mrs. Hemans's verses on the same subject.\n\nAURORA AND TITHONUS\n\nThe goddess of the Dawn, like her sister the Moon, was at times\ninspired with the love of mortals. Her greatest favorite was\nTithonus, son of Laomedon, king of Troy. She stole him away, and\nprevailed on Jupiter to grant him immortality; but, forgetting to\nhave youth joined in the gift, after some time she began to\ndiscern, to her great mortification, that he was growing old. When\nhis hair was quite white she left his society; but he still had\nthe range of her palace, lived on ambrosial food, and was clad in\ncelestial raiment. At length he lost the power of using his limbs,\nand then she shut him up in his chamber, whence his feeble voice\nmight at times be heard. Finally she turned him into a\ngrasshopper.\n\nMemnon was the son of Aurora and Tithonus. He was king of the\nAethiopians, and dwelt in the extreme east, on the shore of Ocean.\nHe came with his warriors to assist the kindred of his father in\nthe war of Troy. King Priam received him with great honors, and\nlistened with admiration to his narrative of the wonders of the\nocean shore.\n\nThe very day after his arrival, Memnon, impatient of repose, led\nhis troops to the field. Antilochus, the brave son of Nestor, fell\nby his hand, and the Greeks were put to flight, when Achilles\nappeared and restored the battle. A long and doubtful contest\nensued between him and the son of Aurora; at length victory\ndeclared for Achilles, Memnon fell, and the Trojans fled in\ndismay.\n\nAurora, who from her station in the sky had viewed with\napprehension the danger of her son, when she saw him fall,\ndirected his brothers, the Winds, to convey his body to the banks\nof the river Esepus in Paphlagonia. In the evening Aurora came,\naccompanied by the Hours and the Pleiads, and wept and lamented\nover her son. Night, in sympathy with her grief, spread the heaven\nwith clouds; all nature mourned for the offspring of the Dawn. The\nAethiopians raised his tomb on the banks of the stream in the\ngrove of the Nymphs, and Jupiter caused the sparks and cinders of\nhis funeral pile to be turned into birds, which, dividing into two\nflocks, fought over the pile till they fell into the flame. Every\nyear at the anniversary of his death they return and celebrate his\nobsequies in like manner. Aurora remains inconsolable for the loss\nof her son. Her tears still flow, and may be seen at early morning\nin the form of dew-drops on the grass.\n\nUnlike most of the marvels of ancient mythology, there still exist\nsome memorials of this. On the banks of the river Nile, in Egypt,\nare two colossal statues, one of which is said to be the statue of\nMemnon. Ancient writers record that when the first rays of the\nrising sun fall upon this statue a sound is heard to issue from\nit, which they compare to the snapping of a harp-string. There is\nsome doubt about the identification of the existing statue with\nthe one described by the ancients, and the mysterious sounds are\nstill more doubtful. Yet there are not wanting some modern\ntestimonies to their being still audible. It has been suggested\nthat sounds produced by confined air making its escape from\ncrevices or caverns in the rocks may have given some ground for\nthe story. Sir Gardner Wilkinson, a late traveller, of the highest\nauthority, examined the statue itself, and discovered that it was\nhollow, and that \"in the lap of the statue is a stone, which on\nbeing struck emits a metallic sound, that might still be made use\nof to deceive a visitor who was predisposed to believe its\npowers.\"\n\nThe vocal statue of Memnon is a favorite subject of allusion with\nthe poets. Darwin, in his \"Botanic Garden,\" says:\n\n   \"So to the sacred Sun in Memnon's fane\n    Spontaneous concords choired the matin strain;\n    Touched by his orient beam responsive rings\n    The living lyre and vibrates all its strings;\n    Accordant aisles the tender tones prolong,\n    And holy echoes swell the adoring song.\"\n\nBook I., 1., 182.\n\nACIS AND GALATEA\n\nScylla was a fair virgin of Sicily, a favorite of the Sea-Nymphs.\nShe had many suitors, but repelled them all, and would go to the\ngrotto of Galatea, and tell her how she was persecuted. One day\nthe goddess, while Scylla dressed her hair, listened to the story,\nand then replied, \"Yet, maiden, your persecutors are of the not\nungentle race of men, whom, if you will, you can repel; but I, the\ndaughter of Nereus, and protected by such a band of sisters, found\nno escape from the passion of the Cyclops but in the depths of the\nsea;\" and tears stopped her utterance, which when the pitying\nmaiden had wiped away with her delicate finger, and soothed the\ngoddess, \"Tell me, dearest,\" said she, \"the cause of your grief.\"\nGalatea then said, \"Acis was the son of Faunus and a Naiad. His\nfather and mother loved him dearly, but their love was not equal\nto mine. For the beautiful youth attached himself to me alone, and\nhe was just sixteen years old, the down just beginning to darken\nhis cheeks. As much as I sought his society, so much did the\nCyclops seek mine; and if you ask me whether my love for Acis or\nmy hatred of Polyphemus was the stronger, I cannot tell you; they\nwere in equal measure. O Venus, how great is thy power! this\nfierce giant, the terror of the woods, whom no hapless stranger\nescaped unharmed, who defied even Jove himself, learned to feel\nwhat love was, and, touched with a passion for me, forgot his\nflocks and his well-stored caverns. Then for the first time he\nbegan to take some care of his appearance, and to try to make\nhimself agreeable; he harrowed those coarse locks of his with a\ncomb, and mowed his beard with a sickle, looked at his harsh\nfeatures in the water, and composed his countenance. His love of\nslaughter, his fierceness and thirst of blood prevailed no more,\nand ships that touched at his island went away in safety. He paced\nup and down the sea-shore, imprinting huge tracks with his heavy\ntread, and, when weary, lay tranquilly in his cave.\n\n\"There is a cliff which projects into the sea, which washes it on\neither side. Thither one day the huge Cyclops ascended, and sat\ndown while his flocks spread themselves around. Laying down his\nstaff, which would have served for a mast to hold a vessel's sail,\nand taking his instrument compacted of numerous pipes, he made the\nhills and the waters echo the music of his song. I lay hid under a\nrock by the side of my beloved Acis, and listened to the distant\nstrain. It was full of extravagant praises of my beauty, mingled\nwith passionate reproaches of my coldness and cruelty.\n\n\"When he had finished he rose up, and, like a raging bull that\ncannot stand still, wandered off into the woods. Acis and I\nthought no more of him, till on a sudden he came to a spot which\ngave him a view of us as we sat. 'I see you,' he exclaimed, 'and I\nwill make this the last of your love-meetings.' His voice was a\nroar such as an angry Cyclops alone could utter. Aetna trembled at\nthe sound. I, overcome with terror, plunged into the water. Acis\nturned and fled, crying, 'Save me, Galatea, save me, my parents!'\nThe Cyclops pursued him, and tearing a rock from the side of the\nmountain hurled it at him. Though only a corner of it touched him,\nit overwhelmed him.\n\n\"All that fate left in my power I did for Acis. I endowed him with\nthe honors of his grandfather, the river-god. The purple blood\nflowed out from under the rock, but by degrees grew paler and\nlooked like the stream of a river rendered turbid by rains, and in\ntime it became clear. The rock cleaved open, and the water, as it\ngushed from the chasm, uttered a pleasing murmur.\"\n\nThus Acis was changed into a river, and the river retains the name\nof Acis.\n\nDryden, in his \"Cymon and Iphigenia,\" has told the story of a\nclown converted into a gentleman by the power of love, in a way\nthat shows traces of kindred to the old story of Galatea and the\nCyclops.\n\n   \"What not his father's care nor tutor's art\n    Could plant with pains in his unpolished heart,\n    The best instructor, Love, at once inspired,\n    As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fired.\n    Love taught him shame, and shame with love at strife\n    Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nTHE TROJAN WAR\n\n\nMinerva was the goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a\nvery foolish thing; she entered into competition with Juno and\nVenus for the prize of beauty. It happened thus: At the nuptials\nof Peleus and Thetis all the gods were invited with the exception\nof Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her exclusion, the goddess threw a\ngolden apple among the guests, with the inscription, \"For the\nfairest.\" Thereupon Juno, Venus, and Minerva each claimed the\napple. Jupiter, not willing to decide in so delicate a matter,\nsent the goddesses to Mount Ida, where the beautiful shepherd\nParis was tending his flocks, and to him was committed the\ndecision. The goddesses accordingly appeared before him. Juno\npromised him power and riches, Minerva glory and renown in war,\nand Venus the fairest of women for his wife, each attempting to\nbias his decision in her own favor. Paris decided in favor of\nVenus and gave her the golden apple, thus making the two other\ngoddesses his enemies. Under the protection of Venus, Paris sailed\nto Greece, and was hospitably received by Menelaus, king of\nSparta. Now Helen, the wife of Menelaus, was the very woman whom\nVenus had destined for Paris, the fairest of her sex. She had been\nsought as a bride by numerous suitors, and before her decision was\nmade known, they all, at the suggestion of Ulysses, one of their\nnumber, took an oath that they would defend her from all injury\nand avenge her cause if necessary. She chose Menelaus, and was\nliving with him happily when Paris became their guest. Paris,\naided by Venus, persuaded her to elope with him, and carried her\nto Troy, whence arose the famous Trojan war, the theme of the\ngreatest poems of antiquity, those of Homer and Virgil.\n\nMenelaus called upon his brother chieftains of Greece to fulfil\ntheir pledge, and join him in his efforts to recover his wife.\nThey generally came forward, but Ulysses, who had married\nPenelope, and was very happy in his wife and child, had no\ndisposition to embark in such a troublesome affair. He therefore\nhung back and Palamedes was sent to urge him. When Palamedes\narrived at Ithaca Ulysses pretended to be mad. He yoked an ass and\nan ox together to the plough and began to sow salt. Palamedes, to\ntry him, placed the infant Telemachus before the plough, whereupon\nthe father turned the plough aside, showing plainly that he was no\nmadman, and after that could no longer refuse to fulfil his\npromise. Being now himself gained for the undertaking, he lent his\naid to bring in other reluctant chiefs, especially Achilles. This\nhero was the son of that Thetis at whose marriage the apple of\nDiscord had been thrown among the goddesses. Thetis was herself\none of the immortals, a sea-nymph, and knowing that her son was\nfated to perish before Troy if he went on the expedition, she\nendeavored to prevent his going. She sent him away to the court of\nKing Lycomedes, and induced him to conceal himself in the disguise\nof a maiden among the daughters of the king. Ulysses, hearing he\nwas there, went disguised as a merchant to the palace and offered\nfor sale female ornaments, among which he had placed some arms.\nWhile the king's daughters were engrossed with the other contents\nof the merchant's pack, Achilles handled the weapons and thereby\nbetrayed himself to the keen eye of Ulysses, who found no great\ndifficulty in persuading him to disregard his mother's prudent\ncounsels and join his countrymen in the war.\n\nPriam was king of Troy, and Paris, the shepherd and seducer of\nHelen, was his son. Paris had been brought up in obscurity,\nbecause there were certain ominous forebodings connected with him\nfrom his infancy that he would be the ruin of the state. These\nforebodings seemed at length likely to be realized, for the\nGrecian armament now in preparation was the greatest that had ever\nbeen fitted out. Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, and brother of the\ninjured Menelaus, was chosen commander-in-chief. Achilles was\ntheir most illustrious warrior. After him ranked Ajax, gigantic in\nsize and of great courage, but dull of intellect; Diomede, second\nonly to Achilles in all the qualities of a hero; Ulysses, famous\nfor his sagacity; and Nestor, the oldest of the Grecian chiefs,\nand one to whom they all looked up for counsel. But Troy was no\nfeeble enemy. Priam, the king, was now old, but he had been a wise\nprince and had strengthened his state by good government at home\nand numerous alliances with his neighbors. But the principal stay\nand support of his throne was his son Hector, one of the noblest\ncharacters painted by heathen antiquity. He felt, from the first,\na presentiment of the fall of his country, but still persevered in\nhis heroic resistance, yet by no means justified the wrong which\nbrought this danger upon her. He was united in marriage with\nAndromache, and as a husband and father his character was not less\nadmirable than as a warrior. The principal leaders on the side of\nthe Trojans, besides Hector, were Aeneas and Deiphobus, Glaucus\nand Sarpedon.\n\nAfter two years of preparation the Greek fleet and army assembled\nin the port of Aulis in Boeotia. Here Agamemnon in hunting killed\na stag which was sacred to Diana, and the goddess in return\nvisited the army with pestilence, and produced a calm which\nprevented the ships from leaving the port. Calchas, the\nsoothsayer, thereupon announced that the wrath of the virgin\ngoddess could only be appeased by the sacrifice of a virgin on her\naltar, and that none other but the daughter of the offender would\nbe acceptable. Agamemnon, however reluctant, yielded his consent,\nand the maiden Iphigenia was sent for under the pretence that she\nwas to be married to Achilles. When she was about to be sacrificed\nthe goddess relented and snatched her away, leaving a hind in her\nplace, and Iphigenia, enveloped in a cloud, was carried to Tauris,\nwhere Diana made her priestess of her temple.\n\nTennyson, in his \"Dream of Fair Women,\" makes Iphigenia thus\ndescribe her feelings at the moment of sacrifice:\n\n   \"I was cut off from hope in that sad place,\n      Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears;\n    My father held his hand upon his face;\n      I, blinded by my tears,\n\n   \"Still strove to speak; my voice was thick with sighs,\n      As in a dream. Dimly I could descry\n    The stern black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes,\n      Waiting to see me die.\n\n   \"The tall masts quivered as they lay afloat,\n      The temples and the people and the shore;\n    One drew a sharp knife through my tender throat\n      Slowly,--and--nothing more.\"\n\nThe wind now proving fair the fleet made sail and brought the\nforces to the coast of Troy. The Trojans came to oppose their\nlanding, and at the first onset Protesilaus fell by the hand of\nHector. Protesilaus had left at home his wife, Laodamia, who was\nmost tenderly attached to him. When the news of his death reached\nher she implored the gods to be allowed to converse with him only\nthree hours. The request was granted. Mercury led Protesilaus back\nto the upper world, and when he died a second time Laodamia died\nwith him. There was a story that the nymphs planted elm trees\nround his grave which grew very well till they were high enough to\ncommand a view of Troy, and then withered away, while fresh\nbranches sprang from the roots.\n\nWordsworth has taken the story of Protesilaus and Laodamia for the\nsubject of a poem. It seems the oracle had declared that victory\nshould be the lot of that party from which should fall the first\nvictim to the war. The poet represents Protesilaus, on his brief\nreturn to earth, as relating to Laodamia the story of his fate:\n\n   \"'The wished-for wind was given; I then revolved\n      The oracle, upon the silent sea;\n    And if no worthier led the way, resolved\n      That of a thousand vessels mine should be\n    The foremost prow impressing to the strand,--\n    Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.\n\n   \"'Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter was the pang\n      When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife!\n    On thee too fondly did my memory hang,\n      And on the joys we shared in mortal life,\n    The paths which we had trod,--these fountains, flowers;\n    My new planned cities and unfinished towers.\n\n   \"'But should suspense permit the foe to cry,\n      \"Behold they tremble! haughty their array,\n    Yet of their number no one dares to die?\"\n      In soul I swept the indignity away:\n    Old frailties then recurred: but lofty thought\n    In act embodied my deliverance wrought.'\n\n   \"... upon the side\n      Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)\n    A knot of spiry trees for ages grew\n      From out the tomb of him for whom she died;\n      And ever when such stature they had gained\n    That Ilium's walls were subject to their view,\n    The trees' tall summits withered at the sight,\n    A constant interchange of growth and blight!\"\n\n\"THE ILIAD\"\n\nThe war continued without decisive results for nine years. Then an\nevent occurred which seemed likely to be fatal to the cause of the\nGreeks, and that was a quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon. It\nis at this point that the great poem of Homer, \"The Iliad,\"\nbegins. The Greeks, though unsuccessful against Troy, had taken\nthe neighboring and allied cities, and in the division of the\nspoil a female captive, by name Chryseis, daughter of Chryses,\npriest of Apollo, had fallen to the share of Agamemnon. Chryses\ncame bearing the sacred emblems of his office, and begged the\nrelease of his daughter. Agamemnon refused. Thereupon Chryses\nimplored Apollo to afflict the Greeks till they should be forced\nto yield their prey. Apollo granted the prayer of his priest, and\nsent pestilence into the Grecian camp. Then a council was called\nto deliberate how to allay the wrath of the gods and avert the\nplague. Achilles boldly charged their misfortunes upon Agamemnon\nas caused by his withholding Chryseis. Agamemnon, enraged,\nconsented to relinquish his captive, but demanded that Achilles\nshould yield to him in her stead Briseis, a maiden who had fallen\nto Achilles' share in the division of the spoil. Achilles\nsubmitted, but forthwith declared that he would take no further\npart in the war. He withdrew his forces from the general camp and\nopenly avowed his intention of returning home to Greece.\n\nThe gods and goddesses interested themselves as much in this\nfamous war as the parties themselves. It was well known to them\nthat fate had decreed that Troy should fall, at last, if her\nenemies should persevere and not voluntarily abandon the\nenterprise. Yet there was room enough left for chance to excite by\nturns the hopes and fears of the powers above who took part with\neither side. Juno and Minerva, in consequence of the slight put\nupon their charms by Paris, were hostile to the Trojans; Venus for\nthe opposite cause favored them. Venus enlisted her admirer Mars\non the same side, but Neptune favored the Greeks. Apollo was\nneutral, sometimes taking one side, sometimes the other, and Jove\nhimself, though he loved the good King Priam, yet exercised a\ndegree of impartiality; not, however, without exceptions.\n\nThetis, the mother of Achilles, warmly resented the injury done to\nher son. She repaired immediately to Jove's palace and besought\nhim to make the Greeks repent of their injustice to Achilles by\ngranting success to the Trojan arms. Jupiter consented, and in the\nbattle which ensued the Trojans were completely successful. The\nGreeks were driven from the field and took refuge in their ships.\n\nThen Agamemnon called a council of his wisest and bravest chiefs.\nNestor advised that an embassy should be sent to Achilles to\npersuade him to return to the field; that Agamemnon should yield\nthe maiden, the cause of the dispute, with ample gifts to atone\nfor the wrong he had done. Agamemnon consented, and Ulysses, Ajax,\nand Phoenix were sent to carry to Achilles the penitent message.\nThey performed that duty, but Achilles was deaf to their\nentreaties. He positively refused to return to the field, and\npersisted in his resolution to embark for Greece without delay.\n\nThe Greeks had constructed a rampart around their ships, and now\ninstead of besieging Troy they were in a manner besieged\nthemselves, within their rampart. The next day after the\nunsuccessful embassy to Achilles, a battle was fought, and the\nTrojans, favored by Jove, were successful, and succeeded in\nforcing a passage through the Grecian rampart, and were about to\nset fire to the ships. Neptune, seeing the Greeks so pressed, came\nto their rescue. He appeared in the form of Calchas the prophet,\nencouraged the warriors with his shouts, and appealed to each\nindividually till he raised their ardor to such a pitch that they\nforced the Trojans to give way. Ajax performed prodigies of valor,\nand at length encountered Hector. Ajax shouted defiance, to which\nHector replied, and hurled his lance at the huge warrior. It was\nwell aimed and struck Ajax, where the belts that bore his sword\nand shield crossed each other on the breast. The double guard\nprevented its penetrating and it fell harmless. Then Ajax, seizing\na huge stone, one of those that served to prop the ships, hurled\nit at Hector. It struck him in the neck and stretched him on the\nplain. His followers instantly seized him and bore him off,\nstunned and wounded.\n\nWhile Neptune was thus aiding the Greeks and driving back the\nTrojans, Jupiter saw nothing of what was going on, for his\nattention had been drawn from the field by the wiles of Juno. That\ngoddess had arrayed herself in all her charms, and to crown all\nhad borrowed of Venus her girdle, called \"Cestus,\" which had the\neffect to heighten the wearer's charms to such a degree that they\nwere quite irresistible. So prepared, Juno went to join her\nhusband, who sat on Olympus watching the battle. When he beheld\nher she looked so charming that the fondness of his early love\nrevived, and, forgetting the contending armies and all other\naffairs of state, he thought only of her and let the battle go as\nit would.\n\nBut this absorption did not continue long, and when, upon turning\nhis eyes downward, he beheld Hector stretched on the plain almost\nlifeless from pain and bruises, he dismissed Juno in a rage,\ncommanding her to send Iris and Apollo to him. When Iris came he\nsent her with a stern message to Neptune, ordering him instantly\nto quit the field. Apollo was despatched to heal Hector's bruises\nand to inspirit his heart. These orders were obeyed with such\nspeed that, while the battle still raged, Hector returned to the\nfield and Neptune betook himself to his own dominions.\n\nAn arrow from Paris's bow wounded Machaon, son of Aesculapius, who\ninherited his father's art of healing, and was therefore of great\nvalue to the Greeks as their surgeon, besides being one of their\nbravest warriors. Nestor took Machaon in his chariot and conveyed\nhim from the field. As they passed the ships of Achilles, that\nhero, looking out over the field, saw the chariot of Nestor and\nrecognized the old chief, but could not discern who the wounded\nchief was. So calling Patroclus, his companion and dearest friend,\nhe sent him to Nestor's tent to inquire.\n\nPatroclus, arriving at Nestor's tent, saw Machaon wounded, and\nhaving told the cause of his coming would have hastened away, but\nNestor detained him, to tell him the extent of the Grecian\ncalamities. He reminded him also how, at the time of departing for\nTroy, Achilles and himself had been charged by their respective\nfathers with different advice: Achilles to aspire to the highest\npitch of glory, Patroclus, as the elder, to keep watch over his\nfriend, and to guide his inexperience. \"Now,\" said Nestor, \"is the\ntime for such influence. If the gods so please, thou mayest win\nhim back to the common cause; but if not let him at least send his\nsoldiers to the field, and come thou, Patroclus, clad in his\narmor, and perhaps the very sight of it may drive back the\nTrojans.\"\n\nPatroclus was strongly moved with this address, and hastened back\nto Achilles, revolving in his mind all he had seen and heard. He\ntold the prince the sad condition of affairs at the camp of their\nlate associates: Diomede, Ulysses, Agamemnon, Machaon, all\nwounded, the rampart broken down, the enemy among the ships\npreparing to burn them, and thus to cut off all means of return to\nGreece. While they spoke the flames burst forth from one of the\nships. Achilles, at the sight, relented so far as to grant\nPatroclus his request to lead the Myrmidons (for so were Achilles'\nsoldiers called) to the field, and to lend him his armor, that he\nmight thereby strike more terror into the minds of the Trojans.\nWithout delay the soldiers were marshalled, Patroclus put on the\nradiant armor and mounted the chariot of Achilles, and led forth\nthe men ardent for battle. But before he went, Achilles strictly\ncharged him that he should be content with repelling the foe \"Seek\nnot,\" said he, \"to press the Trojans without me, lest thou add\nstill more to the disgrace already mine.\" Then exhorting the\ntroops to do their best he dismissed them full of ardor to the\nfight.\n\nPatroclus and his Myrmidons at once plunged into the contest where\nit raged hottest; at the sight of which the joyful Grecians\nshouted and the ships reechoed the acclaim. The Trojans, at the\nsight of the well-known armor, struck with terror, looked\neverywhere for refuge. First those who had got possession of the\nship and set it on fire left and allowed the Grecians to retake it\nand extinguish the flames. Then the rest of the Trojans fled in\ndismay. Ajax, Menelaus, and the two sons of Nestor performed\nprodigies of valor. Hector was forced to turn his horses' heads\nand retire from the enclosure, leaving his men entangled in the\nfosse to escape as they could. Patroclus drove them before him,\nslaying many, none daring to make a stand against him.\n\nAt last Sarpedon, son of Jove, ventured to oppose himself in fight\nto Patroclus. Jupiter looked down upon him and would have snatched\nhim from the fate which awaited him, but Juno hinted that if he\ndid so it would induce all others of the inhabitants of heaven to\ninterpose in like manner whenever any of their offspring were\nendangered; to which reason Jove yielded. Sarpedon threw his\nspear, but missed Patroclus, but Patroclus threw his with better\nsuccess. It pierced Sarpedon's breast and he fell, and, calling to\nhis friends to save his body from the foe, expired. Then a furious\ncontest arose for the possession of the corpse. The Greeks\nsucceeded and stripped Sarpedon of his armor; but Jove would not\nallow the remains of his son to be dishonored, and by his command\nApollo snatched from the midst of the combatants the body of\nSarpedon and committed it to the care of the twin brothers Death\nand Sleep, by whom it was transported to Lycia, the native land of\nSarpedon, where it received due funeral rites.\n\nThus far Patroclus had succeeded to his utmost wish in repelling\nthe Trojans and relieving his countrymen, but now came a change of\nfortune. Hector, borne in his chariot, confronted him. Patroclus\nthrew a vast stone at Hector, which missed its aim, but smote\nCebriones, the charioteer, and knocked him from the car. Hector\nleaped from the chariot to rescue his friend, and Patroclus also\ndescended to complete his victory. Thus the two heroes met face to\nface. At this decisive moment the poet, as if reluctant to give\nHector the glory, records that Phoebus took part against\nPatroclus. He struck the helmet from his head and the lance from\nhis hand. At the same moment an obscure Trojan wounded him in the\nback, and Hector, pressing forward, pierced him with his spear. He\nfell mortally wounded.\n\nThen arose a tremendous conflict for the body of Patroclus, but\nhis armor was at once taken possession of by Hector, who retiring\na short distance divested himself of his own armor and put on that\nof Achilles, then returned to the fight. Ajax and Menelaus\ndefended the body, and Hector and his bravest warriors struggled\nto capture it. The battle raged with equal fortunes, when Jove\nenveloped the whole face of heaven with a dark cloud. The\nlightning flashed, the thunder roared, and Ajax, looking round for\nsome one whom he might despatch to Achilles to tell him of the\ndeath of his friend, and of the imminent danger that his remains\nwould fall into the hands of the enemy, could see no suitable\nmessenger. It was then that he exclaimed in those famous lines so\noften quoted,\n\n    \"Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou\n    Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies;\n    Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such,\n    Destruction with it; but, O, give us day.\"\n\n    --Cowper.\n\nOr, as rendered by Pope,\n\n    \"... Lord of earth and air!\n    O king! O father! hear my humble prayer!\n    Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;\n    Give me to see and Ajax asks no more;\n    If Greece must perish we thy will obey,\n    But let us perish in the face of day.\"\n\nJupiter heard the prayer and dispersed the clouds. Then Ajax sent\nAntilochus to Achilles with the intelligence of Patroclus's death,\nand of the conflict raging for his remains. The Greeks at last\nsucceeded in bearing off the body to the ships, closely pursued by\nHector and Aeneas and the rest of the Trojans.\n\nAchilles heard the fate of his friend with such distress that\nAntilochus feared for a while that he would destroy himself. His\ngroans reached the ears of his mother, Thetis, far down in the\ndeeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to him to inquire\nthe cause. She found him overwhelmed with self-reproach that he\nhad indulged his resentment so far, and suffered his friend to\nfall a victim to it. But his only consolation was the hope of\nrevenge. He would fly instantly in search of Hector. But his\nmother reminded him that he was now without armor, and promised\nhim, if he would but wait till the morrow, she would procure for\nhim a suit of armor from Vulcan more than equal to that he had\nlost. He consented, and Thetis immediately repaired to Vulcan's\npalace. She found him busy at his forge making tripods for his own\nuse, so artfully constructed that they moved forward of their own\naccord when wanted, and retired again when dismissed. On hearing\nthe request of Thetis, Vulcan immediately laid aside his work and\nhastened to comply with her wishes. He fabricated a splendid suit\nof armor for Achilles, first a shield adorned with elaborate\ndevices, then a helmet crested with gold, then a corselet and\ngreaves of impenetrable temper, all perfectly adapted to his form,\nand of consummate workmanship. It was all done in one night, and\nThetis, receiving it, descended with it to earth, and laid it down\nat Achilles' feet at the dawn of day.\n\nThe first glow of pleasure that Achilles had felt since the death\nof Patroclus was at the sight of this splendid armor. And now,\narrayed in it, he went forth into the camp, calling all the chiefs\nto council. When they were all assembled he addressed them.\nRenouncing his displeasure against Agamemnon and bitterly\nlamenting the miseries that had resulted from it, he called on\nthem to proceed at once to the field. Agamemnon made a suitable\nreply, laying all the blame on Ate, the goddess of discord; and\nthereupon complete reconcilement took place between the heroes.\n\nThen Achilles went forth to battle inspired with a rage and thirst\nfor vengeance that made him irresistible. The bravest warriors\nfled before him or fell by his lance. Hector, cautioned by Apollo,\nkept aloof; but the god, assuming the form of one of Priam's sons,\nLycaon, urged Aeneas to encounter the terrible warrior. Aeneas,\nthough he felt himself unequal, did not decline the combat. He\nhurled his spear with all his force against the shield the work of\nVulcan. It was formed of five metal plates; two were of brass, two\nof tin, and one of gold. The spear pierced two thicknesses, but\nwas stopped in the third. Achilles threw his with better success.\nIt pierced through the shield of Aeneas, but glanced near his\nshoulder and made no wound. Then Aeneas seized a stone, such as\ntwo men of modern times could hardly lift, and was about to throw\nit, and Achilles, with sword drawn, was about to rush upon him,\nwhen Neptune, who looked out upon the contest, moved with pity for\nAeneas, who he saw would surely fall a victim if not speedily\nrescued, spread a cloud between the combatants, and lifting Aeneas\nfrom the ground, bore him over the heads of warriors and steeds to\nthe rear of the battle. Achilles, when the mist cleared away,\nlooked round in vain for his adversary, and acknowledging the\nprodigy, turned his arms against other champions. But none dared\nstand before him, and Priam looking down from the city walls\nbeheld his whole army in full flight towards the city. He gave\ncommand to open wide the gates to receive the fugitives, and to\nshut them as soon as the Trojans should have passed, lest the\nenemy should enter likewise. But Achilles was so close in pursuit\nthat that would have been impossible if Apollo had not, in the\nform of Agenor, Priam's son, encountered Achilles for a while,\nthen turned to fly, and taken the way apart from the city.\nAchilles pursued and had chased his supposed victim far from the\nwalls, when Apollo disclosed himself, and Achilles, perceiving how\nhe had been deluded, gave up the chase.\n\nBut when the rest had escaped into the town Hector stood without\ndetermined to await the combat. His old father called to him from\nthe walls and begged him to retire nor tempt the encounter. His\nmother, Hecuba, also besought him to the same effect, but all in\nvain. \"How can I,\" said he to himself, \"by whose command the\npeople went to this day's contest, where so many have fallen, seek\nsafety for myself against a single foe? But what if I offer him to\nyield up Helen and all her treasures and ample of our own beside?\nAh, no! it is too late. He would not even hear me through, but\nslay me while I spoke.\" While he thus ruminated. Achilles\napproached, terrible as Mars, his armor flashing lightning as he\nmoved. At that sight Hector's heart failed him and he fled.\nAchilles swiftly pursued. They ran, still keeping near the walls,\ntill they had thrice encircled the city. As often as Hector\napproached the walls Achilles intercepted him and forced him to\nkeep out in a wider circle. But Apollo sustained Hector's strength\nand would not let him sink in weariness. Then Pallas, assuming the\nform of Deiphobus, Hector's bravest brother, appeared suddenly at\nhis side. Hector saw him with delight, and thus strengthened\nstopped his flight and turned to meet Achilles. Hector threw his\nspear, which struck the shield of Achilles and bounded back. He\nturned to receive another from the hand of Deiphobus, but\nDeiphobus was gone. Then Hector understood his doom and said,\n\"Alas! it is plain this is my hour to die! I thought Deiphobus at\nhand, but Pallas deceived me, and he is still in Troy. But I will\nnot fall inglorious,\" So saying he drew his falchion from his side\nand rushed at once to combat. Achilles, secured behind his shield,\nwaited the approach of Hector. When he came within reach of his\nspear, Achilles choosing with his eye a vulnerable part where the\narmor leaves the neck uncovered, aimed his spear at that part and\nHector fell, death-wounded, and feebly said, \"Spare my body! Let\nmy parents ransom it, and let me receive funeral rites from the\nsons and daughters of Troy.\" To which Achilles replied, \"Dog, name\nnot ransom nor pity to me, on whom you have brought such dire\ndistress. No! trust me, naught shall save thy carcass from the\ndogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy weight in gold were offered, I\nwould refuse it all.\"\n\nSo saying he stripped the body of its armor, and fastening cords\nto the feet tied them behind his chariot, leaving the body to\ntrail along the ground. Then mounting the chariot he lashed the\nsteeds and so dragged the body to and fro before the city. What\nwords can tell the grief of King Priam and Queen Hecuba at this\nsight! His people could scarce restrain the old king from rushing\nforth. He threw himself in the dust and besought them each by name\nto give him way. Hecuba's distress was not less violent. The\ncitizens stood round them weeping. The sound of the mourning\nreached the ears of Andromache, the wife of Hector, as she sat\namong her maidens at work, and anticipating evil she went forth to\nthe wall. When she saw the sight there presented, she would have\nthrown herself headlong from the wall, but fainted and fell into\nthe arms of her maidens. Recovering, she bewailed her fate,\npicturing to herself her country ruined, herself a captive, and\nher son dependent for his bread on the charity of strangers.\n\nWhen Achilles and the Greeks had taken their revenge on the killer\nof Patroclus they busied themselves in paying due funeral rites to\ntheir friend. A pile was erected, and the body burned with due\nsolemnity; and then ensued games of strength and skill, chariot\nraces, wrestling, boxing, and archery. Then the chiefs sat down to\nthe funeral banquet and after that retired to rest. But Achilles\nneither partook of the feast nor of sleep. The recollection of his\nlost friend kept him awake, remembering their companionship in\ntoil and dangers, in battle or on the perilous deep. Before the\nearliest dawn he left his tent, and joining to his chariot his\nswift steeds, he fastened Hector's body to be dragged behind.\nTwice he dragged him around the tomb of Patroclus, leaving him at\nlength stretched in the dust. But Apollo would not permit the body\nto be torn or disfigured with all this abuse, but preserved it\nfree from all taint or defilement.\n\nWhile Achilles indulged his wrath in thus disgracing brave Hector,\nJupiter in pity summoned Thetis to his presence. He told her to go\nto her son and prevail on him to restore the body of Hector to his\nfriends. Then Jupiter sent Iris to King Priam to encourage him to\ngo to Achilles and beg the body of his son. Iris delivered her\nmessage, and Priam immediately prepared to obey. He opened his\ntreasuries and took out rich garments and cloths, with ten talents\nin gold and two splendid tripods and a golden cup of matchless\nworkmanship. Then he called to his sons and bade them draw forth\nhis litter and place in it the various articles designed for a\nransom to Achilles. When all was ready, the old king with a single\ncompanion as aged as himself, the herald Idaeus, drove forth from\nthe gates, parting there with Hecuba, his queen, and all his\nfriends, who lamented him as going to certain death.\n\nBut Jupiter, beholding with compassion the venerable king, sent\nMercury to be his guide and protector. Mercury, assuming the form\nof a young warrior, presented himself to the aged couple, and\nwhile at the sight of him they hesitated whether to fly or yield,\nthe god approached, and grasping Priam's hand offered to be their\nguide to Achilles' tent. Priam gladly accepted his offered\nservice, and he, mounting the carriage, assumed the reins and soon\nconveyed them to the tent of Achilles. Mercury's wand put to sleep\nall the guards, and without hinderance he introduced Priam into\nthe tent where Achilles sat, attended by two of his warriors. The\nold king threw himself at the feet of Achilles, and kissed those\nterrible hands which had destroyed so many of his sons. \"Think, O\nAchilles,\" he said, \"of thy own father, full of days like me, and\ntrembling on the gloomy verge of life. Perhaps even now some\nneighbor chief oppresses him and there is none at hand to succor\nhim in his distress. Yet doubtless knowing that Achilles lives he\nstill rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy face again.\nBut no comfort cheers me, whose bravest sons, so late the flower\nof Ilium, all have fallen. Yet one I had, one more than all the\nrest the strength of my age, whom, fighting for his country, thou\nhast slain. I come to redeem his body, bringing inestimable ransom\nwith me. Achilles! reverence the gods! recollect thy father! for\nhis sake show compassion to me!\" These words moved Achilles, and\nhe wept; remembering by turns his absent father and his lost\nfriend. Moved with pity of Priam's silver locks and beard, he\nraised him from the earth, and thus spake: \"Priam, I know that\nthou hast reached this place conducted by some god, for without\naid divine no mortal even in his prime of youth had dared the\nattempt. I grant thy request, moved thereto by the evident will of\nJove.\" So saying he arose, and went forth with his two friends,\nand unloaded of its charge the litter, leaving two mantles and a\nrobe for the covering of the body, which they placed on the\nlitter, and spread the garments over it, that not unveiled it\nshould be borne back to Troy. Then Achilles dismissed the old king\nwith his attendants, having first pledged himself to allow a truce\nof twelve days for the funeral solemnities.\n\nAs the litter approached the city and was descried from the walls,\nthe people poured forth to gaze once more on the face of their\nhero. Foremost of all, the mother and the wife of Hector came, and\nat the sight of the lifeless body renewed their lamentations. The\npeople all wept with them, and to the going down of the sun there\nwas no pause or abatement of their grief.\n\nThe next day preparations were made for the funeral solemnities.\nFor nine days the people brought wood and built the pile, and on\nthe tenth they placed the body on the summit and applied the\ntorch; while all Troy thronging forth encompassed the pile. When\nit had completely burned, they quenched the cinders with wine,\ncollected the bones and placed them in a golden urn, which they\nburied in the earth, and reared a pile of stones over the spot.\n\n    \"Such honors Ilium to her hero paid,\n    And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.\"\n\n    --Pope.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nTHE FALL OF TROY--RETURN OF THE GREEKS--ORESTES AND ELECTRA\n\nTHE FALL OF TROY\n\n\nThe story of the Iliad ends with the death of Hector, and it is\nfrom the Odyssey and later poems that we learn the fate of the\nother heroes. After the death of Hector, Troy did not immediately\nfall, but receiving aid from new allies still continued its\nresistance. One of these allies was Memnon, the Aethiopian prince,\nwhose story we have already told. Another was Penthesilea, queen\nof the Amazons, who came with a band of female warriors. All the\nauthorities attest their valor and the fearful effect of their war\ncry. Penthesilea slew many of the bravest warriors, but was at\nlast slain by Achilles. But when the hero bent over his fallen\nfoe, and contemplated her beauty, youth, and valor, he bitterly\nregretted his victory. Thersites, an insolent brawler and\ndemagogue, ridiculed his grief, and was in consequence slain by\nthe hero.\n\nAchilles by chance had seen Polyxena, daughter of King Priam,\nperhaps on the occasion of the truce which was allowed the Trojans\nfor the burial of Hector. He was captivated with her charms, and\nto win her in marriage agreed to use his influence with the Greeks\nto grant peace to Troy. While in the temple of Apollo, negotiating\nthe marriage, Paris discharged at him a poisoned arrow, which,\nguided by Apollo, wounded Achilles in the heel, the only\nvulnerable part about him. For Thetis his mother had dipped him\nwhen an infant in the river Styx, which made every part of him\ninvulnerable except the heel by which she held him. [Footnote 1:\nThe story of the invulnerability of Achilles is not found in\nHomer, and is inconsistent with his account. For how could\nAchilles require the aid of celestial armor if be were\ninvulnerable?]\n\nThe body of Achilles so treacherously slain was rescued by Ajax\nand Ulysses. Thetis directed the Greeks to bestow her son's armor\non the hero who of all the survivors should be judged most\ndeserving of it. Ajax and Ulysses were the only claimants; a\nselect number of the other chiefs were appointed to award the\nprize. It was awarded to Ulysses, thus placing wisdom before\nvalor; whereupon Ajax slew himself. On the spot where his blood\nsank into the earth a flower sprang up, called the hyacinth,\nbearing on its leaves the first two letters of the name of Ajax,\nAi, the Greek for \"woe.\" Thus Ajax is a claimant with the boy\nHyacinthus for the honor of giving birth to this flower. There is\na species of Larkspur which represents the hyacinth of the poets\nin preserving the memory of this event, the Delphinium Ajacis--\nAjax's Larkspur.\n\nIt was now discovered that Troy could not be taken but by the aid\nof the arrows of Hercules. They were in possession of Philoctetes,\nthe friend who had been with Hercules at the last and lighted his\nfuneral pyre. Philoctetes had joined the Grecian expedition\nagainst Troy, but had accidentally wounded his foot with one of\nthe poisoned arrows, and the smell from his wound proved so\noffensive that his companions carried him to the isle of Lemnos\nand left him there. Diomed was now sent to induce him to rejoin\nthe army. He sukcceeded. Philoctetes was cured of his wound by\nMachaon, and Paris was the first victim of the fatal arrows. In\nhis distress Paris bethought him of one whom in his prosperity he\nhad forgotten. This was the nymph OEnone, whom he had married when\na youth, and had abandoned for the fatal beauty Helen. OEnone,\nremembering the wrongs she had suffered, refused to heal the\nwound, and Paris went back to Troy and died. OEnone quickly\nrepented, and hastened after him with remedies, but came too late,\nand in her grief hung herself. [Footnote 1: Tennyson has chosen\nOEnone as the subject of a short poem; but he has omitted the most\npoetical part of the story, the return of Paris wounded, her\ncruelty and subsequent repentance.]\n\nThere was in Troy a celebrated statue of Minerva called the\nPalladium. It was said to have fallen from heaven, and the belief\nwas that the city could not be taken so long as this statue\nremained within it. Ulysses and Diomed entered the city in\ndisguise and succeeded in obtaining the Palladium, which they\ncarried off to the Grecian camp.\n\nBut Troy still held out, and the Greeks began to despair of ever\nsubduing it by force, and by advice of Ulysses resolved to resort\nto stratagem. They pretended to be making preparations to abandon\nthe siege, and a portion of the ships were withdrawn and lay hid\nbehind a neighboring island. The Greeks then constructed an\nimmense WOODEN HORSE, which they gave out was intended as a\npropitiatory offering to Minerva, but in fact was filled with\narmed men. The remaining Greeks then betook themselves to their\nships and sailed away, as if for a final departure. The Trojans,\nseeing the encampment broken up and the fleet gone, concluded the\nenemy to have abandoned the siege. The gates were thrown open, and\nthe whole population issued forth rejoicing at the long-prohibited\nliberty of passing freely over the scene of the late encampment.\nThe great HORSE was the chief object of curiosity. All wondered\nwhat it could be for. Some recommended to take it into the city as\na trophy; others felt afraid of it.\n\nWhile they hesitate, Laocoon, the priest of Neptune exclaims,\n\"What madness, citizens, is this? Have you not learned enough of\nGrecian fraud to be on your guard against it? For my part, I fear\nthe Greeks even when they offer gifts.\" [Footnote: See Proverbial\nExpressions.] So saying he threw his lance at the horse's side. It\nstruck, and a hollow sound reverberated like a groan. Then perhaps\nthe people might have taken his advice and destroyed the fatal\nhorse and all its contents; but just at that moment a group of\npeople appeared, dragging forward one who seemed a prisoner and a\nGreek. Stupefied with terror, he was brought before the chiefs,\nwho reassured him, promising that his life should be spared on\ncondition of his returning true answers to the questions asked\nhim. He informed them that he was a Greek, Sinon by name, and that\nin consequence of the malice of Ulysses he had been left behind by\nhis countrymen at their departure. With regard to the wooden\nhorse, he told them that it was a propitiatory offering to\nMinerva, and made so huge for the express purpose of preventing\nits being carried within the city; for Calchas the prophet had\ntold them that if the Trojans took possession of it they would\nassuredly triumph over the Greeks. This language turned the tide\nof the people's feelings and they began to think how they might\nbest secure the monstrous horse and the favorable auguries\nconnected with it, when suddenly a prodigy occurred which left no\nroom to doubt. There appeared, advancing over the sea, two immense\nserpents. They came upon the land, and the crowd fled in all\ndirections. The serpents advanced directly to the spot where\nLaocoon stood with his two sons. They first attacked the children,\nwinding round their bodies and breathing their pestilential breath\nin their faces. The father, attempting to rescue them, is next\nseized and involved in the serpents' coils. He struggles to tear\nthem away, but they overpower all his efforts and strangle him and\nthe children in their poisonous folds. This event was regarded as\na clear indication of the displeasure of the gods at Laocoon's\nirreverent treatment of the wooden horse, which they no longer\nhesitated to regard as a sacred object, and prepared to introduce\nwith due solemnity into the city. This was done with songs and\ntriumphal acclamations, and the day closed with festivity. In the\nnight the armed men who were enclosed in the body of the horse,\nbeing let out by the traitor Sinon, opened the gates of the city\nto their friends, who had returned under cover of the night. The\ncity was set on fire; the people, overcome with feasting and\nsleep, put to the sword, and Troy completely subdued.\n\nOne of the most celebrated groups of statuary in existence is that\nof Laocoon and his children in the embrace of the serpents. A cast\nof it is owned by the Boston Athenaeum; the original is in the\nVatican at Rome. The following lines are from the \"Childe Harold\"\nof Byron:\n\n    \"Now turning to the Vatican go see\n    Laocoon's torture dignifying pain;\n    A father's love and mortal's agony\n    With an immortal's patience blending;--vain\n    The struggle! vain against the coiling strain\n    And gripe and deepening of the dragon's grasp\n    The old man's clinch; the long envenomed chain\n    Rivets the living links; the enormous asp\n    Enforces pang on pang and stifles gasp on gasp.\"\n\nThe comic poets will also occasionally borrow a classical\nallusion. The following is from Swift's \"Description of a City\nShower\":\n\n    \"Boxed in a chair the beau impatient sits,\n    While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits,\n    And ever and anon with frightful din\n    The leather sounds; he trembles from within.\n    So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden steed\n    Pregnant with Greeks impatient to be freed,\n    (Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,\n    Instead of paying chairmen, run them through);\n    Laocoon struck the outside with a spear,\n    And each imprisoned champion quaked with fear.\"\n\nKing Priam lived to see the downfall of his kingdom and was slain\nat last on the fatal night when the Greeks took the city. He had\narmed himself and was about to mingle with the combatants, but was\nprevailed on by Hecuba, his aged queen, to take refuge with\nherself and his daughters as a suppliant at the altar of Jupiter.\nWhile there, his youngest son Polites, pursued by Pyrrhus, the son\nof Achilles, rushed in wounded, and expired at the feet of his\nfather; whereupon Priam, overcome with indignation, hurled his\nspear with feeble hand against Pyrrhus, [Footnote 1: Pyrrhus's\nexclamation, \"Not such aid nor such defenders does the time\nrequire,\" has become proverbial. See Proverbial Expressions.] and\nwas forthwith slain by him.\n\nQueen Hecuba and her daughter Cassandra were carried captives to\nGreece. Cassandra had been loved by Apollo, and he gave her the\ngift of prophecy; but afterwards offended with her, he rendered\nthe gift unavailing by ordaining that her predictions should never\nbe believed. Polyxena, another daughter, who had been loved by\nAchilles, was demanded by the ghost of that warrior, and was\nsacrificed by the Greeks upon his tomb.\n\nMENELAUS AND HELEN\n\nOur readers will be anxious to know the fate of Helen, the fair\nbut guilty occasion of so much slaughter. On the fall of Troy\nMenelaus recovered possession of his wife, who had not ceased to\nlove him, though she had yielded to the might of Venus and\ndeserted him for another. After the death of Paris she aided the\nGreeks secretly on several occasions, and in particular when\nUlysses and Diomed entered the city in disguise to carry off the\nPalladium. She saw and recognized Ulysses, but kept the secret and\neven assisted them in obtaining the image. Thus she became\nreconciled to her husband, and they were among the first to leave\nthe shores of Troy for their native land. But having incurred the\ndispleasure of the gods they were driven by storms from shore to\nshore of the Mediterranean, visiting Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Egypt.\nIn Egypt they were kindly treated and presented with rich gifts,\nof which Helen's share was a golden spindle and a basket on\nwheels. The basket was to hold the wool and spools for the queen's\nwork.\n\nDyer, in his poem of the \"Fleece,\" thus alludes to this incident:\n\n    \"... many yet adhere\n    To the ancient distaff, at the bosom fixed,\n    Casting the whirling spindle as they walk.\n\n    This was of old, in no inglorious days,\n    The mode of spinning, when the Egyptian prince\n    A golden distaff gave that beauteous nymph,\n    Too beauteous Helen; no uncourtly gift.\"\n\nMilton also alludes to a famous recipe for an invigorating\ndraught, called Nepenthe, which the Egyptian queen gave to Helen:\n\n    \"Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone\n    In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena,\n    Is of such power to stir up joy as this,\n    To life so friendly or so cool to thirst.\"\n\n    --Comus.\n\nMenelaus and Helen at length arrived in safety at Sparta, resumed\ntheir royal dignity, and lived and reigned in splendor; and when\nTelemachus, the son of Ulysses, in search of his father, arrived\nat Sparta, he found Menelaus and Helen celebrating the marriage of\ntheir daughter Hermione to Neoptolemus, son of Achilles.\n\nAGAMEMNON, ORESTES, AND ELECTRA\n\nAgamemnon, the general-in-chief of the Greeks, the brother of\nMenelaus, and who had been drawn into the quarrel to avenge his\nbrother's wrongs, not his own, was not so fortunate in the issue.\nDuring his absence his wife Clytemnestra had been false to him,\nand when his return was expected, she with her paramour,\nAegisthus, laid a plan for his destruction, and at the banquet\ngiven to celebrate his return, murdered him.\n\nIt was intended by the conspirators to slay his son Orestes also,\na lad not yet old enough to be an object of apprehension, but from\nwhom, if he should be suffered to grow up, there might be danger.\nElectra, the sister of Orestes, saved her brother's life by\nsending him secretly away to his uncle Strophius, King of Phocis.\nIn the palace of Strophius Orestes grew up with the king's son\nPylades, and formed with him that ardent friendship which has\nbecome proverbial. Electra frequently reminded her brother by\nmessengers of the duty of avenging his father's death, and when\ngrown up he consulted the oracle of Delphi, which confirmed him in\nhis design. He therefore repaired in disguise to Argos, pretending\nto be a messenger from Strophius, who had come to announce the\ndeath of Orestes, and brought the ashes of the deceased in a\nfuneral urn. After visiting his father's tomb and sacrificing upon\nit, according to the rites of the ancients, he made himself known\nto his sister Electra, and soon after slew both Aegisthus and\nClytemnestra.\n\nThis revolting act, the slaughter of a mother by her son, though\nalleviated by the guilt of the victim and the express command of\nthe gods, did not fail to awaken in the breasts of the ancients\nthe same abhorrence that it does in ours. The Eumenides, avenging\ndeities, seized upon Orestes, and drove him frantic from land to\nland. Pylades accompanied him in his wanderings and watched over\nhim. At length, in answer to a second appeal to the oracle, he was\ndirected to go to Tauris in Scythia, and to bring thence a statue\nof Diana which was believed to have fallen from heaven.\nAccordingly Orestes and Pylades went to Tauris, where the\nbarbarous people were accustomed to sacrifice to the goddess all\nstrangers who fell into their hands. The two friends were seized\nand carried bound to the temple to be made victims. But the\npriestess of Diana was no other than Iphigenia, the sister of\nOrestes, who, our readers will remember, was snatched away by\nDiana at the moment when she was about to be sacrificed.\nAscertaining from the prisoners who they were, Iphigenia disclosed\nherself to them, and the three made their escape with the statue\nof the goddess, and returned to Mycenae.\n\nBut Orestes was not yet relieved from the vengeance of the\nErinyes. At length he took refuge with Minerva at Athens. The\ngoddess afforded him protection, and appointed the court of\nAreopagus to decide his fate. The Erinyes brought forward their\naccusation, and Orestes made the command of the Delphic oracle his\nexcuse. When the court voted and the voices were equally divided,\nOrestes was acquitted by the command of Minerva.\n\nByron, in \"Childe Harold,\" Canto IV., alludes to the story of\nOrestes:\n\n    \"O thou who never yet of human wrong\n    Left the unbalanced scale, great Nemesis!\n    Thou who didst call the Furies from the abyss,\n    And round Orestes bade them howl and hiss,\n    For that unnatural retribution,--just,\n    Had it but been from hands less near,--in this,\n    Thy former realm, I call thee from the dust!\"\n\nOne of the most pathetic scenes in the ancient drama is that in\nwhich Sophocles represents the meeting of Orestes and Electra, on\nhis return from Phocis. Orestes, mistaking Electra for one of the\ndomestics, and desirous of keeping his arrival a secret till the\nhour of vengeance should arrive, produces the urn in which his\nashes are supposed to rest. Electra, believing him to be really\ndead, takes the urn and, embracing it, pours forth her grief in\nlanguage full of tenderness and despair.\n\nMilton, in one of his sonnets, says:\n\n    \"... The repeated air\n    Of sad Electra's poet had the power\n    To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.\"\n\nThis alludes to the story that when, on one occasion, the city of\nAthens was at the mercy of her Spartan foes, and it was proposed\nto destroy it, the thought was rejected upon the accidental\nquotation, by some one, of a chorus of Euripides.\n\nTROY\n\nThe facts relating to the city of Troy are still unknown to\nhistory. Antiquarians have long sought for the actual city and\nsome record of its rulers. The most interesting explorations were\nthose conducted about 1890 by the German scholar, Henry\nSchliemann, who believed that at the mound of Hissarlik, the\ntraditional site of Troy, he had uncovered the ancient capital.\nSchliemann excavated down below the ruins of three or four\nsettlements, each revealing an earlier civilization, and finally\ncame upon some royal jewels and other relics said to be \"Priam's\nTreasure.\" Scholars are by no means agreed as to the historic\nvalue of these discoveries.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nADVENTURES OF ULYSSES--THE LOTUS-EATERS--CYCLOPES--CIRCE--SIRENS\n--SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS--CALYPSO\n\nRETURN OF ULYSSES\n\n\nThe romantic poem of the Odyssey is now to engage our attention.\nIt narrates the wanderings of Ulysses (Odysseus in the Greek\nlanguage) in his return from Troy to his own kingdom Ithaca.\n\nFrom Troy the vessels first made land at Ismarus, city of the\nCiconians, where, in a skirmish with the inhabitants, Ulysses lost\nsix men from each ship. Sailing thence, they were overtaken by a\nstorm which drove them for nine days along the sea till they\nreached the country of the Lotus-eaters. Here, after watering,\nUlysses sent three of his men to discover who the inhabitants\nwere. These men on coming among the Lotus-eaters were kindly\nentertained by them, and were given some of their own food, the\nlotus-plant, to eat. The effect of this food was such that those\nwho partook of it lost all thoughts of home and wished to remain\nin that country. It was by main force that Ulysses dragged these\nmen away, and he was even obliged to tie them under the benches of\nthe ships.\n\n[Footnote: Tennyson in the \"Lotus-eaters\" has charmingly expressed\nthe dreamy, languid feeling which the lotus food is said to have\nproduced.\n\n   \"How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream\n    With half-shut eyes ever to seem\n    Falling asleep in a half dream!\n    To dream and dream, like yonder amber light\n    Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height;\n    To hear each others' whispered speech;\n    Eating the Lotos, day by day,\n    To watch the crisping ripples on the beach,\n    And tender curving lines of creamy spray:\n    To lend our hearts and spirits wholly\n    To the influence of mild-minded melancholy;\n    To muse and brood and live again in memory,\n    With those old faces of our infancy\n    Heaped over with a mound of grass,\n    Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass.\"]\n\nThey next arrived at the country of the Cyclopes. The Cyclopes\nwere giants, who inhabited an island of which they were the only\npossessors. The name means \"round eye,\" and these giants were so\ncalled because they had but one eye, and that placed in the middle\nof the forehead. They dwelt in caves and fed on the wild\nproductions of the island and on what their flocks yielded, for\nthey were shepherds. Ulysses left the main body of his ships at\nanchor, and with one vessel went to the Cyclopes' island to\nexplore for supplies. He landed with his companions, carrying with\nthem a jar of wine for a present, and coming to a large cave they\nentered it, and finding no one within examined its contents. They\nfound it stored with the richest of the flock, quantities of\ncheese, pails and bowls of milk, lambs and kids in their pens, all\nin nice order. Presently arrived the master of the cave,\nPolyphemus, bearing an immense bundle of firewood, which he threw\ndown before the cavern's mouth. He then drove into the cave the\nsheep and goats to be milked, and, entering, rolled to the cave's\nmouth an enormous rock, that twenty oxen could not draw. Next he\nsat down and milked his ewes, preparing a part for cheese, and\nsetting the rest aside for his customary drink. Then, turning\nround his great eye, he discerned the strangers, and growled out\nto them, demanding who they were, and where from. Ulysses replied\nmost humbly, stating that they were Greeks, from the great\nexpedition that had lately won so much glory in the conquest of\nTroy; that they were now on their way home, and finished by\nimploring his hospitality in the name of the gods. Polyphemus\ndeigned no answer, but reaching out his hand seized two of the\nGreeks, whom he hurled against the side of the cave, and dashed\nout their brains. He proceeded to devour them with great relish,\nand having made a hearty meal, stretched himself out on the floor\nto sleep. Ulysses was tempted to seize the opportunity and plunge\nhis sword into him as he slept, but recollected that it would only\nexpose them all to certain destruction, as the rock with which the\ngiant had closed up the door was far beyond their power to remove,\nand they would therefore be in hopeless imprisonment. Next morning\nthe giant seized two more of the Greeks, and despatched them in\nthe same manner as their companions, feasting on their flesh till\nno fragment was left. He then moved away the rock from the door,\ndrove out his flocks, and went out, carefully replacing the\nbarrier after him. When he was gone Ulysses planned how he might\ntake vengeance for his murdered friends, and effect his escape\nwith his surviving companions. He made his men prepare a massive\nbar of wood cut by the Cyclops for a staff, which they found in\nthe cave. They sharpened the end of it, and seasoned it in the\nfire, and hid it under the straw on the cavern floor. Then four of\nthe boldest were selected, with whom Ulysses joined himself as a\nfifth. The Cyclops came home at evening, rolled away the stone and\ndrove in his flock as usual. After milking them and making his\narrangements as before, he seized two more of Ulysses' companions\nand dashed their brains out, and made his evening meal upon them\nas he had on the others. After he had supped, Ulysses approaching\nhim handed him a bowl of wine, saying, \"Cyclops, this is wine;\ntaste and drink after thy meal of men's flesh.\" He took and drank\nit, and was hugely delighted with it, and called for more. Ulysses\nsupplied him once again, which pleased the giant so much that he\npromised him as a favor that he should be the last of the party\ndevoured. He asked his name, to which Ulysses replied, \"My name is\nNoman.\"\n\nAfter his supper the giant lay down to repose, and was soon sound\nasleep. Then Ulysses with his four select friends thrust the end\nof the stake into the fire till it was all one burning coal, then\npoising it exactly above the giant's only eye, they buried it\ndeeply into the socket, twirling it round as a carpenter does his\nauger. The howling monster with his outcry filled the cavern, and\nUlysses with his aids nimbly got out of his way and concealed\nthemselves in the cave. He, bellowing, called aloud on all the\nCyclopes dwelling in the caves around him, far and near. They on\nhis cry flocked round the den, and inquired what grievous hurt had\ncaused him to sound such an alarm and break their slumbers. He\nreplied, \"O friends, I die, and Noman gives the blow.\" They\nanswered, \"If no man hurts thee it is the stroke of Jove, and thou\nmust bear it.\" So saying, they left him groaning.\n\nNext morning the Cyclops rolled away the stone to let his flock\nout to pasture, but planted himself in the door of the cave to\nfeel of all as they went out, that Ulysses and his men should not\nescape with them. But Ulysses had made his men harness the rams of\nthe flock three abreast, with osiers which they found on the floor\nof the cave. To the middle ram of the three one of the Greeks\nsuspended himself, so protected by the exterior rams on either\nside. As they passed, the giant felt of the animals' backs and\nsides, but never thought of their bellies; so the men all passed\nsafe, Ulysses himself being on the last one that passed. When they\nhad got a few paces from the cavern, Ulysses and his friends\nreleased themselves from their rams, and drove a good part of the\nflock down to the shore to their boat. They put them aboard with\nall haste, then pushed off from the shore, and when at a safe\ndistance Ulysses shouted out, \"Cyclops, the gods have well\nrequited thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom\nthou owest thy shameful loss of sight.\" The Cyclops, hearing this,\nseized a rock that projected from the side of the mountain, and\nrending it from its bed, he lifted it high in the air, then\nexerting all his force, hurled it in the direction of the voice.\nDown came the mass, just clearing the vessel's stern. The ocean,\nat the plunge of the huge rock, heaved the ship towards the land,\nso that it barely escaped being swamped by the waves. When they\nhad with the utmost difficulty pulled off shore, Ulysses was about\nto hail the giant again, but his friends besought him not to do\nso. He could not forbear, however, letting the giant know that\nthey had escaped his missile, but waited till they had reached a\nsafer distance than before. The giant answered them with curses,\nbut Ulysses and his friends plied their oars vigorously, and soon\nregained their companions.\n\nUlysses next arrived at the island of Aeolus. To this monarch\nJupiter had intrusted the government of the winds, to send them\nforth or retain them at his will. He treated Ulysses hospitably,\nand at his departure gave him, tied up in a leathern bag, with a\nsilver string, such winds as might be hurtful and dangerous,\ncommanding fair winds to blow the barks towards their country.\nNine days they sped before the wind, and all that time Ulysses had\nstood at the helm, without sleep. At last quite exhausted he lay\ndown to sleep. While he slept, the crew conferred together about\nthe mysterious bag, and concluded it must contain treasures given\nby the hospitable king Aeolus to their commander. Tempted to\nsecure some portion for themselves, they loosed the string, when\nimmediately the winds rushed forth. The ships were driven far from\ntheir course, and back again to the island they had just left.\nAeolus was so indignant at their folly that he refused to assist\nthem further, and they were obliged to labor over their course\nonce more by means of their oars.\n\nTHE LAESTRYGONIANS\n\nTheir next adventure was with the barbarous tribe of\nLaestrygonians. The vessels all pushed into the harbor, tempted by\nthe secure appearance of the cove, completely land-locked; only\nUlysses moored his vessel without. As soon as the Laestrygonians\nfound the ships completely in their power they attacked them,\nheaving huge stones which broke and overturned them, and with\ntheir spears despatched the seamen as they struggled in the water.\nAll the vessels with their crews were destroyed, except Ulysses'\nown ship, which had remained outside, and finding no safety but in\nflight, he exhorted his men to ply their oars vigorously, and they\nescaped.\n\nWith grief for their slain companions mixed with joy at their own\nescape, they pursued their way till they arrived at the Aeaean\nisle, where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the sun. Landing here,\nUlysses climbed a hill, and gazing round saw no signs of\nhabitation except in one spot at the centre of the island, where\nhe perceived a palace embowered with trees. He sent forward one-\nhalf of his crew, under the command of Eurylochus, to see what\nprospect of hospitality they might find. As they approached the\npalace, they found themselves surrounded by lions, tigers, and\nwolves, not fierce, but tamed by Circe's art, for she was a\npowerful magician. All these animals had once been men, but had\nbeen changed by Circe's enchantments into the forms of beasts. The\nsounds of soft music were heard from within, and a sweet female\nvoice singing. Eurylochus called aloud and the goddess came forth\nand invited them in; they all gladly entered except Eurylochus,\nwho suspected danger. The goddess conducted her guests to a seat,\nand had them served with wine and other delicacies. When they had\nfeasted heartily, she touched them one by one with her wand, and\nthey became immediately changed into SWINE, in \"head, body, voice,\nand bristles,\" yet with their intellects as before. She shut them\nin her sties and supplied them with acorns and such other things\nas swine love.\n\nEurylochus hurried back to the ship and told the tale. Ulysses\nthereupon determined to go himself, and try if by any means he\nmight deliver his companions. As he strode onward alone, he met a\nyouth who addressed him familiarly, appearing to be acquainted\nwith his adventures. He announced himself as Mercury, and informed\nUlysses of the arts of Circe, and of the danger of approaching\nher. As Ulysses was not to be dissuaded from his attempt, Mercury\nprovided him with a sprig of the plant Moly, of wonderful power to\nresist sorceries, and instructed him how to act. Ulysses\nproceeded, and reaching the palace was courteously received by\nCirce, who entertained him as she had done his companions, and\nafter he had eaten and drank, touched him with her wand, saying,\n\"Hence, seek the sty and wallow with thy friends.\" But he, instead\nof obeying, drew his sword and rushed upon her with fury in his\ncountenance. She fell on her knees and begged for mercy. He\ndictated a solemn oath that she would release his companions and\npractise no further harm against him or them; and she repeated it,\nat the same time promising to dismiss them all in safety after\nhospitably entertaining them. She was as good as her word. The men\nwere restored to their shapes, the rest of the crew summoned from\nthe shore, and the whole magnificently entertained day after day,\ntill Ulysses seemed to have forgotten his native land, and to have\nreconciled himself to an inglorious life of ease and pleasure.\n\nAt length his companions recalled him to nobler sentiments, and he\nreceived their admonition gratefully. Circe aided their departure,\nand instructed them how to pass safely by the coast of the Sirens.\nThe Sirens were sea-nymphs who had the power of charming by their\nsong all who heard them, so that the unhappy mariners were\nirresistibly impelled to cast themselves into the sea to their\ndestruction. Circe directed Ulysses to fill the ears of his seamen\nwith wax, so that they should not hear the strain; and to cause\nhimself to be bound to the mast, and his people to be strictly\nenjoined, whatever he might say or do, by no means to release him\ntill they should have passed the Sirens' island. Ulysses obeyed\nthese directions. He filled the ears of his people with wax, and\nsuffered them to bind him with cords firmly to the mast. As they\napproached the Sirens' island, the sea was calm, and over the\nwaters came the notes of music so ravishing and attractive that\nUlysses struggled to get loose, and by cries and signs to his\npeople begged to be released; but they, obedient to his previous\norders, sprang forward and bound him still faster. They held on\ntheir course, and the music grew fainter till it ceased to be\nheard, when with joy Ulysses gave his companions the signal to\nunseal their ears, and they relieved him from his bonds.\n\nThe imagination of a modern poet, Keats, has discovered for us the\nthoughts that passed through the brains of the victims of Circe,\nafter their transformation. In his \"Endymion\" he represents one of\nthem, a monarch in the guise of an elephant, addressing the\nsorceress in human language, thus:\n\n    \"I sue not for my happy crown again;\n    I sue not for my phalanx on the plain;\n    I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife;\n    I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,\n    My children fair, my lovely girls and boys;\n    I will forget them; I will pass these joys,\n    Ask nought so heavenward; so too--too high;\n    Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die;\n    To be delivered from this cumbrous flesh,\n    From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,\n    And merely given to the cold, bleak air.\n    Have mercy, goddess! Circe, feel my prayer!\"\n\nSCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS\n\nUlysses had been warned by Circe of the two monsters Scylla and\nCharybdis. We have already met with Scylla in the story of\nGlaucus, and remember that she was once a beautiful maiden and was\nchanged into a snaky monster by Circe. She dwelt in a cave high up\non the cliff, from whence she was accustomed to thrust forth her\nlong necks (for she had six heads), and in each of her mouths to\nseize one of the crew of every vessel passing within reach. The\nother terror, Charybdis, was a gulf, nearly on a level with the\nwater. Thrice each day the water rushed into a frightful chasm,\nand thrice was disgorged. Any vessel coming near the whirlpool\nwhen the tide was rushing in must inevitably be ingulfed; not\nNeptune himself could save it.\n\nOn approaching the haunt of the dread monsters, Ulysses kept\nstrict watch to discover them. The roar of the waters as Charybdis\ningulfed them, gave warning at a distance, but Scylla could\nnowhere be discerned. While Ulysses and his men watched with\nanxious eyes the dreadful whirlpool, they were not equally on\ntheir guard from the attack of Scylla, and the monster, darting\nforth her snaky heads, caught six of his men, and bore them away,\nshrieking, to her den. It was the saddest sight Ulysses had yet\nseen; to behold his friends thus sacrificed and hear their cries,\nunable to afford them any assistance.\n\nCirce had warned him of another danger. After passing Scylla and\nCharybdis the next land he would make was Thrinakia, an island\nwhereon were pastured the cattle of Hyperion, the Sun, tended by\nhis daughters Lampetia and Phaethusa. These flocks must not be\nviolated, whatever the wants of the voyagers might be. If this\ninjunction were transgressed destruction was sure to fall on the\noffenders.\n\nUlysses would willingly have passed the island of the Sun without\nstopping, but his companions so urgently pleaded for the rest and\nrefreshment that would be derived from anchoring and passing the\nnight on shore, that Ulysses yielded. He bound them, however, with\nan oath that they would not touch one of the animals of the sacred\nflocks and herds, but content themselves with what provision they\nyet had left of the supply which Circe had put on board. So long\nas this supply lasted the people kept their oath, but contrary\nwinds detained them at the island for a month, and after consuming\nall their stock of provisions, they were forced to rely upon the\nbirds and fishes they could catch. Famine pressed them, and at\nlength one day, in the absence of Ulysses, they slew some of the\ncattle, vainly attempting to make amends for the deed by offering\nfrom them a portion to the offended powers. Ulysses, on his return\nto the shore, was horror-struck at perceiving what they had done,\nand the more so on account of the portentous signs which followed.\nThe skins crept on the ground, and the joints of meat lowed on the\nspits while roasting.\n\nThe wind becoming fair they sailed from the island. They had not\ngone far when the weather changed, and a storm of thunder and\nlightning ensued. A stroke of lightning shattered their mast,\nwhich in its fall killed the pilot. At last the vessel itself came\nto pieces. The keel and mast floating side by side, Ulysses formed\nof them a raft, to which he clung, and, the wind changing, the\nwaves bore him to Calypso's island. All the rest of the crew\nperished.\n\nThe following allusion to the topics we have just been considering\nis from Milton's \"Comus,\" line 252:\n\n    \"... I have often heard\n    My mother Circe and the Sirens three,\n    Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades,\n    Culling their potent herbs and baneful drugs,\n    Who as they sung would take the prisoned soul\n    And lap it in Elysium. Scylla wept,\n    And chid her barking waves into attention,\n    And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause.\"\n\nScylla and Charybdis have become proverbial, to denote opposite\ndangers which beset one's course. See Proverbial Expressions.\n\n CALYPSO\n\nCalypso was a sea-nymph, which name denotes a numerous class of\nfemale divinities of lower rank, yet sharing many of the\nattributes of the gods. Calypso received Ulysses hospitably,\nentertained him magnificently, became enamoured of him, and wished\nto retain him forever, conferring on him immortality. But he\npersisted in his resolution to return to his country and his wife\nand son. Calypso at last received the command of Jove to dismiss\nhim. Mercury brought the message to her, and found her in her\ngrotto, which is thus described by Homer:\n\n    \"A garden vine, luxuriant on all sides,\n    Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung\n    Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph,\n    Their sinuous course pursuing side by side,\n    Strayed all around, and everywhere appeared\n    Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o'er\n    With violets; it was a scene to fill\n    A god from heaven with wonder and delight.\"\n\nCalypso with much reluctance proceeded to obey the commands of\nJupiter. She supplied Ulysses with the means of constructing a\nraft, provisioned it well for him, and gave him a favoring gale.\nHe sped on his course prosperously for many days, till at length,\nwhen in sight of land, a storm arose that broke his mast, and\nthreatened to rend the raft asunder. In this crisis he was seen by\na compassionate sea-nymph, who in the form of a cormorant alighted\non the raft, and presented him a girdle, directing him to bind it\nbeneath his breast, and if he should be compelled to trust himself\nto the waves, it would buoy him up and enable him by swimming to\nreach the land.\n\nFenelon, in his romance of \"Telemachus,\" has given us the\nadventures of the son of Ulysses in search of his father. Among\nother places at which he arrived, following on his father's\nfootsteps, was Calypso's isle, and, as in the former case, the\ngoddess tried every art to keep him with her, and offered to share\nher immortality with him. But Minerva, who in the shape of Mentor\naccompanied him and governed all his movements, made him repel her\nallurements, and when no other means of escape could be found, the\ntwo friends leaped from a cliff into the sea, and swam to a vessel\nwhich lay becalmed off shore. Byron alludes to this leap of\nTelemachus and Mentor in the following stanza:\n\n    \"But not in silence pass Calypso's isles,\n    The sister tenants of the middle deep;\n    There for the weary still a haven smiles,\n    Though the fair goddess long has ceased to weep,\n    And o'er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep\n    For him who dared prefer a mortal bride.\n    Here too his boy essayed the dreadful leap,\n    Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide;\n    While thus of both bereft the nymph-queen doubly sighed.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nTHE PHAEACIANS--FATE OF THE SUITORS\n\nTHE PHAEACIANS\n\n\nUlysses clung to the raft while any of its timbers kept together,\nand when it no longer yielded him support, binding the girdle\naround him, he swam. Minerva smoothed the billows before him and\nsent him a wind that rolled the waves towards the shore. The surf\nbeat high on the rocks and seemed to forbid approach; but at\nlength finding calm water at the mouth of a gentle stream, he\nlanded, spent with toil, breathless and speechless and almost\ndead. After some time, reviving, he kissed the soil, rejoicing,\nyet at a loss what course to take. At a short distance he\nperceived a wood, to which he turned his steps. There, finding a\ncovert sheltered by intermingling branches alike from the sun and\nthe rain, he collected a pile of leaves and formed a bed, on which\nhe stretched himself, and heaping the leaves over him, fell\nasleep.\n\nThe land where he was thrown was Scheria, the country of the\nPhaeacians. These people dwelt originally near the Cyclopes; but\nbeing oppressed by that savage race, they migrated to the isle of\nScheria, under the conduct of Nausithous, their king. They were,\nthe poet tells us, a people akin to the gods, who appeared\nmanifestly and feasted among them when they offered sacrifices,\nand did not conceal themselves from solitary wayfarers when they\nmet them. They had abundance of wealth and lived in the enjoyment\nof it undisturbed by the alarms of war, for as they dwelt remote\nfrom gain-seeking man, no enemy ever approached their shores, and\nthey did not even require to make use of bows and quivers. Their\nchief employment was navigation. Their ships, which went with the\nvelocity of birds, were endued with intelligence; they knew every\nport and needed no pilot. Alcinous, the son of Nausithous, was now\ntheir king, a wise and just sovereign, beloved by his people.\n\nNow it happened that the very night on which Ulysses was cast\nashore on the Phaeacian island, and while he lay sleeping on his\nbed of leaves, Nausicaa, the daughter of the king, had a dream\nsent by Minerva, reminding her that her wedding-day was not far\ndistant, and that it would be but a prudent preparation for that\nevent to have a general washing of the clothes of the family. This\nwas no slight affair, for the fountains were at some distance, and\nthe garments must be carried thither. On awaking, the princess\nhastened to her parents to tell them what was on her mind; not\nalluding to her wedding-day, but finding other reasons equally\ngood. Her father readily assented and ordered the grooms to\nfurnish forth a wagon for the purpose. The clothes were put\ntherein, and the queen mother placed in the wagon, likewise, an\nabundant supply of food and wine. The princess took her seat and\nplied the lash, her attendant virgins following her on foot.\nArrived at the river side, they turned out the mules to graze, and\nunlading the carriage, bore the garments down to the water, and\nworking with cheerfulness and alacrity soon despatched their\nlabor. Then having spread the garments on the shore to dry, and\nhaving themselves bathed, they sat down to enjoy their meal; after\nwhich they rose and amused themselves with a game of ball, the\nprincess singing to them while they played. But when they had\nrefolded the apparel and were about to resume their way to the\ntown, Minerva caused the ball thrown by the princess to fall into\nthe water, whereat they all screamed and Ulysses awaked at the\nsound.\n\nNow we must picture to ourselves Ulysses, a ship-wrecked mariner,\nbut a few hours escaped from the waves, and utterly destitute of\nclothing, awaking and discovering that only a few bushes were\ninterposed tween him and a group of young maidens whom, by their\ndeportment and attire, he discovered to be not mere peasant girls,\nbut of a higher class. Sadly needing help, how could he yet\nventure, naked as he was, to discover himself and make his wants\nknown? It certainly was a case worthy of the interposition of his\npatron goddess Minerva, who never failed him at a crisis. Breaking\noff a leafy branch from a tree, he held it before him and stepped\nout from the thicket. The virgins at sight of him fled in all\ndirections, Nausicaa alone excepted, for HER Minerva aided and\nendowed with courage and discernment. Ulysses, standing\nrespectfully aloof, told his sad case, and besought the fair\nobject (whether queen or goddess he professed he knew not) for\nfood and clothing. The princess replied courteously, promising\npresent relief and her father's hospitality when he should become\nacquainted with the facts. She called back her scattered maidens,\nchiding their alarm, and reminding them that the Phaeacians had no\nenemies to fear. This man, she told them, was an unhappy wanderer,\nwhom it was a duty to cherish, for the poor and stranger are from\nJove. She bade them bring food and clothing, for some of her\nbrother's garments were among the contents of the wagon. When this\nwas done, and Ulysses, retiring to a sheltered place, had washed\nhis body free from the sea-foam, clothed and refreshed himself\nwith food, Pallas dilated his form and diffused grace over his\nample chest and manly brows.\n\nThe princess, seeing him, was filled with admiration, and scrupled\nnot to say to her damsels that she wished the gods would send her\nsuch a husband. To Ulysses she recommended that he should repair\nto the city, following herself and train so far as the way lay\nthrough the fields; but when they should approach the city she\ndesired that he would no longer be seen in her company, for she\nfeared the remarks which rude and vulgar people might make on\nseeing her return accompanied by such a gallant stranger. To avoid\nwhich she directed him to stop at a grove adjoining the city, in\nwhich were a farm and garden belonging to the king. After allowing\ntime for the princess and her companions to reach the city, he was\nthen to pursue his way thither, and would be easily guided by any\nhe might meet to the royal abode.\n\nUlysses obeyed the directions and in due time proceeded to the\ncity, on approaching which he met a young woman bearing a pitcher\nforth for water. It was Minerva, who had assumed that form.\nUlysses accosted her and desired to be directed to the palace of\nAlcinous the king. The maiden replied respectfully, offering to be\nhis guide; for the palace, she informed him, stood near her\nfather's dwelling. Under the guidance of the goddess, and by her\npower enveloped in a cloud which shielded him from observation,\nUlysses passed among the busy crowd, and with wonder observed\ntheir harbor, their ships, their forum (the resort of heroes), and\ntheir battlements, till they came to the palace, where the\ngoddess, having first given him some information of the country,\nking, and people he was about to meet, left him. Ulysses, before\nentering the courtyard of the palace, stood and surveyed the\nscene. Its splendor astonished him. Brazen walls stretched from\nthe entrance to the interior house, of which the doors were gold,\nthe doorposts silver, the lintels silver ornamented with gold. On\neither side were figures of mastiffs wrought in gold and silver,\nstanding in rows as if to guard the approach. Along the walls were\nseats spread through all their length with mantles of finest\ntexture, the work of Phaeacian maidens. On these seats the princes\nsat and feasted, while golden statues of graceful youths held in\ntheir hands lighted torches which shed radiance over the scene.\nFull fifty female menials served in household offices, some\nemployed to grind the corn, others to wind off the purple wool or\nply the loom. For the Phaeacian women as far exceeded all other\nwomen in household arts as the mariners of that country did the\nrest of mankind in the management of ships. Without the court a\nspacious garden lay, four acres in extent. In it grew many a lofty\ntree, pomegranate, pear, apple, fig, and olive. Neither winter's\ncold nor summer's drought arrested their growth, but they\nflourished in constant succession, some budding while others were\nmaturing. The vineyard was equally prolific. In one quarter you\nmight see the vines, some in blossom, some loaded with ripe\ngrapes, and in another observe the vintagers treading the wine\npress. On the garden's borders flowers of all hues bloomed all the\nyear round, arranged with neatest art. In the midst two fountains\npoured forth their waters, one flowing by artificial channels over\nall the garden, the other conducted through the courtyard of the\npalace, whence every citizen might draw his supplies.\n\nUlysses stood gazing in admiration, unobserved himself, for the\ncloud which Minerva spread around him still shielded him. At\nlength, having sufficiently observed the scene, he advanced with\nrapid step into the hall where the chiefs and senators were\nassembled, pouring libation to Mercury, whose worship followed the\nevening meal. Just then Minerva dissolved the cloud and disclosed\nhim to the assembled chiefs. Advancing to the place where the\nqueen sat, he knelt at her feet and implored her favor and\nassistance to enable him to return to his native country. Then\nwithdrawing, he seated himself in the manner of suppliants, at the\nhearth side.\n\nFor a time none spoke. At last an aged statesman, addressing the\nking, said, \"It is not fit that a stranger who asks our\nhospitality should be kept waiting in suppliant guise, none\nwelcoming him. Let him therefore be led to a seat among us and\nsupplied with food and wine.\" At these words the king rising gave\nhis hand to Ulysses and led him to a seat, displacing thence his\nown son to make room for the stranger. Food and wine were set\nbefore him and he ate and refreshed himself.\n\nThe king then dismissed his guests, notifying them that the next\nday he would call them to council to consider what had best be\ndone for the stranger.\n\nWhen the guests had departed and Ulysses was left alone with the\nking and queen, the queen asked him who he was and whence he came,\nand (recognizing the clothes which he wore as those which her\nmaidens and herself had made) from whom he received those\ngarments. He told them of his residence in Calypso's isle and his\ndeparture thence; of the wreck of his raft, his escape by\nswimming, and of the relief afforded by the princess. The parents\nheard approvingly, and the king promised to furnish a ship in\nwhich his guest might return to his own land.\n\nThe next day the assembled chiefs confirmed the promise of the\nking. A bark was prepared and a crew of stout rowers selected, and\nall betook themselves to the palace, where a bounteous repast was\nprovided. After the feast the king proposed that the young men\nshould show their guest their proficiency in manly sports, and all\nwent forth to the arena for games of running, wrestling, and other\nexercises. After all had done their best, Ulysses being challenged\nto show what he could do, at first declined, but being taunted by\none of the youths, seized a quoit of weight far heavier than any\nof the Phaeacians had thrown, and sent it farther than the utmost\nthrow of theirs. All were astonished, and viewed their guest with\ngreatly increased respect.\n\nAfter the games they returned to the hall, and the herald led in\nDemodocus, the blind bard,--\n\n    \"... Dear to the Muse,\n    Who yet appointed him both good and ill,\n    Took from him sight, but gave him strains divine.\"\n\nHe took for his theme the \"Wooden Horse,\" by means of which the\nGreeks found entrance into Troy. Apollo inspired him, and he sang\nso feelingly the terrors and the exploits of that eventful time\nthat all were delighted, but Ulysses was moved to tears. Observing\nwhich, Alcinous, when the song was done, demanded of him why at\nthe mention of Troy his sorrows awaked. Had he lost there a\nfather, or brother, or any dear friend? Ulysses replied by\nannouncing himself by his true name, and at their request,\nrecounted the adventures which had befallen him since his\ndeparture from Troy. This narrative raised the sympathy and\nadmiration of the Phaeacians for their guest to the highest pitch.\nThe king proposed that all the chiefs should present him with a\ngift, himself setting the example. They obeyed, and vied with one\nanother in loading the illustrious stranger with costly gifts.\n\nThe next day Ulysses set sail in the Phaeacian vessel, and in a\nshort time arrived safe at Ithaca, his own island. When the vessel\ntouched the strand he was asleep. The mariners, without waking\nhim, carried him on shore, and landed with him the chest\ncontaining his presents, and then sailed away.\n\nNeptune was so displeased at the conduct of the Phaeacians in thus\nrescuing Ulysses from his hands that on the return of the vessel\nto port he transformed it into a rock, right opposite the mouth of\nthe harbor.\n\nHomer's description of the ships of the Phaeacians has been\nthought to look like an anticipation of the wonders of modern\nsteam navigation. Alcinous says to Ulysses:\n\n    \"Say from what city, from what regions tossed,\n    And what inhabitants those regions boast?\n    So shalt thou quickly reach the realm assigned,\n    In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;\n    No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;\n    Like man intelligent they plough the tides,\n    Conscious of every coast and every bay\n    That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray.\"\n\n    --Odyssey, Book VIII.\n\nLord Carlisle, in his \"Diary in the Turkish and Greek Waters,\"\nthus speaks of Corfu, which he considers to be the ancient\nPhaeacian island:\n\n\"The sites explain the 'Odyssey.' The temple of the sea-god could\nnot have been more fitly placed, upon a grassy platform of the\nmost elastic turf, on the brow of a crag commanding harbor, and\nchannel, and ocean. Just at the entrance of the inner harbor there\nis a picturesque rock with a small convent perched upon it, which\nby one legend is the transformed pinnace of Ulysses.\n\n\"Almost the only river in the island is just at the proper\ndistance from the probable site of the city and palace of the\nking, to justify the princess Nausicaa having had resort to her\nchariot and to luncheon when she went with the maidens of the\ncourt to wash their garments.\"\n\nFATE OF THE SUITORS\n\nUlysses had now been away from Ithaca for twenty years, and when\nhe awoke he did not recognize his native land. Minerva appeared to\nhim in the form of a young shepherd, informed him where he was,\nand told him the state of things at his palace. More than a\nhundred nobles of Ithaca and of the neighboring islands had been\nfor years suing for the hand of Penelope, his wife, imagining him\ndead, and lording it over his palace and people, as if they were\nowners of both. That he might be able to take vengeance upon them,\nit was important that he should not be recognized. Minerva\naccordingly metamorphosed him into an unsightly beggar, and as\nsuch he was kindly received by Eumaeus, the swine-herd, a faithful\nservant of his house.\n\nTelemachus, his son, was absent in quest of his father. He had\ngone to the courts of the other kings, who had returned from the\nTrojan expedition. While on the search, he received counsel from\nMinerva to return home. He arrived and sought Eumaeus to learn\nsomething of the state of affairs at the palace before presenting\nhimself among the suitors. Finding a stranger with Eumaeus, he\ntreated him courteously, though in the garb of a beggar, and\npromised him assistance. Eumaeus was sent to the palace to inform\nPenelope privately of her son's arrival, for caution was necessary\nwith regard to the suitors, who, as Telemachus had learned, were\nplotting to intercept and kill him. When Eumaeus was gone, Minerva\npresented herself to Ulysses, and directed him to make himself\nknown to his son. At the same time she touched him, removed at\nonce from him the appearance of age and penury, and gave him the\naspect of vigorous manhood that belonged to him. Telemachus viewed\nhim with astonishment, and at first thought he must be more than\nmortal. But Ulysses announced himself as his father, and accounted\nfor the change of appearance by explaining that it was Minerva's\ndoing.\n\n    \"... Then threw Telemachus\n    His arms around his father's neck and wept.\n    Desire intense of lamentation seized\n    On both; soft murmurs uttering, each indulged\n    His grief.\"\n\nThe father and son took counsel together how they should get the\nbetter of the suitors and punish them for their outrages. It was\narranged that Telemachus should proceed to the palace and mingle\nwith the suitors as formerly; that Ulysses should also go as a\nbeggar, a character which in the rude old times had different\nprivileges from what we concede to it now. As traveller and\nstoryteller, the beggar was admitted in the halls of chieftains,\nand often treated like a guest; though sometimes, also, no doubt,\nwith contumely. Ulysses charged his son not to betray, by any\ndisplay of unusual interest in him, that he knew him to be other\nthan he seemed, and even if he saw him insulted, or beaten, not to\ninterpose otherwise than he might do for any stranger. At the\npalace they found the usual scene of feasting and riot going on.\nThe suitors pretended to receive Telemachus with joy at his\nreturn, though secretly mortified at the failure of their plots to\ntake his life. The old beggar was permitted to enter, and provided\nwith a portion from the table. A touching incident occurred as\nUlysses entered the courtyard of the palace. An old dog lay in the\nyard almost dead with age, and seeing a stranger enter, raised his\nhead, with ears erect. It was Argus, Ulysses' own dog, that he had\nin other days often led to the chase.\n\n    \"... Soon as he perceived\n    Long-lost Ulysses nigh, down fell his ears\n    Clapped close, and with his tail glad sign he gave\n    Of gratulation, impotent to rise,\n    And to approach his master as of old.\n    Ulysses, noting him, wiped off a tear\n    Unmarked.\n    ... Then his destiny released\n    Old Argus, soon as he had lived to see\n    Ulysses in the twentieth year restored.\"\n\nAs Ulysses sat eating his portion in the hall, the suitors began\nto exhibit their insolence to him. When he mildly remonstrated,\none of them, raised a stool and with it gave him a blow.\nTelemachus had hard work to restrain his indignation at seeing his\nfather so treated in his own hall, but remembering his father's\ninjunctions, said no more than what became him as master of the\nhouse, though young, and protector of his guests.\n\nPenelope had protracted her decision in favor of either of her\nsuitors so long that there seemed to be no further pretence for\ndelay. The continued absence of her husband seemed to prove that\nhis return was no longer to be expected. Meanwhile, her son had\ngrown up, and was able to manage his own affairs. She therefore\nconsented to submit the question of her choice to a trial of skill\namong the suitors. The test selected was shooting with the bow.\nTwelve rings were arranged in a line, and he whose arrow was sent\nthrough the whole twelve was to have the queen for his prize. A\nbow that one of his brother heroes had given to Ulysses in former\ntimes was brought from the armory, and with its quiver full of\narrows was laid in the hall. Telemachus had taken care that all\nother weapons should be removed, under pretence that in the heat\nof competition there was danger, in some rash moment, of putting\nthem to an improper use.\n\nAll things being prepared for the trial, the first thing to be\ndone was to bend the bow in order to attach the string. Telemachus\nendeavored to do it, but found all his efforts fruitless; and\nmodestly confessing that he had attempted a task beyond his\nstrength, he yielded the bow to another. He tried it with no\nbetter success, and, amidst the laughter and jeers of his\ncompanions, gave it up. Another tried it and another; they rubbed\nthe bow with tallow, but all to no purpose; it would not bend.\nThen spoke Ulysses, humbly suggesting that he should be permitted\nto try; for, said he, \"beggar as I am, I was once a soldier, and\nthere is still some strength in these old limbs of mine.\" The\nsuitors hooted with derision, and commanded to turn him out of the\nhall for his insolence. But Telemachus spoke up for him, and,\nmerely to gratify the old man, bade him try. Ulysses took the bow,\nand handled it with the hand of a master. With ease he adjusted\nthe cord to its notch, then fitting an arrow to the bow he drew\nthe string and sped the arrow unerring through the rings.\n\nWithout allowing them time to express their astonishment, he said,\n\"Now for another mark!\" and aimed direct at the most insolent one\nof the suitors. The arrow pierced through his throat and he fell\ndead. Telemachus, Eumaeus, and another faithful follower, well\narmed, now sprang to the side of Ulysses. The suitors, in\namazement, looked round for arms, but found none, neither was\nthere any way of escape, for Eumaeus had secured the door. Ulysses\nleft them not long in uncertainty; he announced himself as the\nlong-lost chief, whose house they had invaded, whose substance\nthey had squandered, whose wife and son they had persecuted for\nten long years; and told them he meant to have ample vengeance.\nAll were slain, and Ulysses was left master of his palace and\npossessor of his kingdom and his wife.\n\nTennyson's poem of \"Ulysses\" represents the old hero, after his\ndangers past and nothing left but to stay at home and be happy,\ngrowing tired of inaction and resolving to set forth again in\nquest of new adventures.\n\n    \"... Come, my friends,\n    'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.\n    Push off, and sitting well in order smite\n    The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds\n    To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths\n    Of all the western stars, until I die.\n    It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;\n    It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,\n    And see the great Achilles whom we knew;\" etc.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nADVENTURES OF AENEAS--THE HARPIES--DIDO--PALINURUS\n\nADVENTURES OF AENEAS\n\n\nWe have followed one of the Grecian heroes, Ulysses, in his\nwanderings on his return home from Troy, and now we propose to\nshare the fortunes of the remnant of the conquered people, under\ntheir chief Aeneas, in their search for a new home, after the ruin\nof their native city. On that fatal night when the wooden horse\ndisgorged its contents of armed men, and the capture and\nconflagration of the city were the result, Aeneas made his escape\nfrom the scene of destruction, with his father, and his wife, and\nyoung son. The father, Anchises, was too old to walk with the\nspeed required, and Aeneas took him upon his shoulders. Thus\nburdened, leading his son and followed by his wife, he made the\nbest of his way out of the burning city; but, in the confusion,\nhis wife was swept away and lost.\n\nOn arriving at the place of rendezvous, numerous fugitives, of\nboth sexes, were found, who put themselves under the guidance of\nAeneas. Some months were spent in preparation, and at length they\nembarked. They first landed on the neighboring shores of Thrace,\nand were preparing to build a city, but Aeneas was deterred by a\nprodigy. Preparing to offer sacrifice, he tore some twigs from one\nof the bushes. To his dismay the wounded part dropped blood. When\nhe repeated the act a voice from the ground cried out to him,\n\"Spare me, Aeneas; I am your kinsman, Polydore, here murdered with\nmany arrows, from which a bush has grown, nourished with my\nblood.\" These words recalled to the recollection of Aeneas that\nPolydore was a young prince of Troy, whom his father had sent with\nample treasures to the neighboring land of Thrace, to be there\nbrought up, at a distance from the horrors of war. The king to\nwhom he was sent had murdered him and seized his treasures. Aeneas\nand his companions, considering the land accursed by the stain of\nsuch a crime, hastened away.\n\nThey next landed on the island of Delos, which was once a floating\nisland, till Jupiter fastened it by adamantine chains to the\nbottom of the sea. Apollo and Diana were born there, and the\nisland was sacred to Apollo. Here Aeneas consulted the oracle of\nApollo, and received an answer, ambiguous as usual,--\"Seek your\nancient mother; there the race of Aeneas shall dwell, and reduce\nall other nations to their sway.\" The Trojans heard with joy and\nimmediately began to ask one another, \"Where is the spot intended\nby the oracle?\" Anchises remembered that there was a tradition\nthat their forefathers came from Crete and thither they resolved\nto steer. They arrived at Crete and began to build their city, but\nsickness broke out among them, and the fields that they had\nplanted failed to yield a crop. In this gloomy aspect of affairs\nAeneas was warned in a dream to leave the country and seek a\nwestern land, called Hesperia, whence Dardanus, the true founder\nof the Trojan race, had originally migrated. To Hesperia, now\ncalled Italy, therefore, they directed their future course, and\nnot till after many adventures and the lapse of time sufficient to\ncarry a modern navigator several times round the world, did they\narrive there.\n\nTheir first landing was at the island of the Harpies. These were\ndisgusting birds with the heads of maidens, with long claws and\nfaces pale with hunger. They were sent by the gods to torment a\ncertain Phineus, whom Jupiter had deprived of his sight, in\npunishment of his cruelty; and whenever a meal was placed before\nhim the Harpies darted down from the air and carried it off. They\nwere driven away from Phineus by the heroes of the Argonautic\nexpedition, and took refuge in the island where Aeneas now found\nthem.\n\nWhen they entered the port the Trojans saw herds of cattle roaming\nover the plain. They slew as many as they wished and prepared for\na feast. But no sooner had they seated themselves at the table\nthan a horrible clamor was heard in the air, and a flock of these\nodious harpies came rushing down upon them, seizing in their\ntalons the meat from the dishes and flying away with it. Aeneas\nand his companions drew their swords and dealt vigorous blows\namong the monsters, but to no purpose, for they were so nimble it\nwas almost impossible to hit them, and their feathers were like\narmor impenetrable to steel. One of them, perched on a neighboring\ncliff, screamed out, \"Is it thus, Trojans, you treat us innocent\nbirds, first slaughter our cattle and then make war on ourselves?\"\nShe then predicted dire sufferings to them in their future course,\nand having vented her wrath flew away. The Trojans made haste to\nleave the country, and next found themselves coasting along the\nshore of Epirus. Here they landed, and to their astonishment\nlearned that certain Trojan exiles, who had been carried there as\nprisoners, had become rulers of the country. Andromache, the widow\nof Hector, became the wife of one of the victorious Grecian\nchiefs, to whom she bore a son. Her husband dying, she was left\nregent of the country, as guardian of her son, and had married a\nfellow-captive, Helenus, of the royal race of Troy. Helenus and\nAndromache treated the exiles with the utmost hospitality, and\ndismissed them loaded with gifts.\n\nFrom hence Aeneas coasted along the shore of Sicily and passed the\ncountry of the Cyclopes. Here they were hailed from the shore by a\nmiserable object, whom by his garments, tattered as they were,\nthey perceived to be a Greek. He told them he was one of Ulysses's\ncompanions, left behind by that chief in his hurried departure. He\nrelated the story of Ulysses's adventure with Polyphemus, and\nbesought them to take him off with them as he had no means of\nsustaining his existence where he was but wild berries and roots,\nand lived in constant fear of the Cyclopes. While he spoke\nPolyphemus made his appearance; a terrible monster, shapeless,\nvast, whose only eye had been put out. [Footnote: See Proverbial\nExpressions.] He walked with cautious steps, feeling his way with\na staff, down to the sea-side, to wash his eye-socket in the\nwaves. When he reached the water, he waded out towards them, and\nhis immense height enabled him to advance far into the sea, so\nthat the Trojans, in terror, took to their oars to get out of his\nway. Hearing the oars, Polyphemus shouted after them, so that the\nshores resounded, and at the noise the other Cyclopes came forth\nfrom their caves and woods and lined the shore, like a row of\nlofty pine trees. The Trojans plied their oars and soon left them\nout of sight.\n\nAeneas had been cautioned by Helenus to avoid the strait guarded\nby the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. There Ulysses, the reader\nwill remember, had lost six of his men, seized by Scylla while the\nnavigators were wholly intent upon avoiding Charybdis. Aeneas,\nfollowing the advice of Helenus, shunned the dangerous pass and\ncoasted along the island of Sicily.\n\nJuno, seeing the Trojans speeding their way prosperously towards\ntheir destined shore, felt her old grudge against them revive, for\nshe could not forget the slight that Paris had put upon her, in\nawarding the prize of beauty to another. In heavenly minds can\nsuch resentments dwell. [Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.]\nAccordingly she hastened to Aeolus, the ruler of the winds,--the\nsame who supplied Ulysses with favoring gales, giving him the\ncontrary ones tied up in a bag. Aeolus obeyed the goddess and sent\nforth his sons, Boreas, Typhon, and the other winds, to toss the\nocean. A terrible storm ensued and the Trojan ships were driven\nout of their course towards the coast of Africa. They were in\nimminent danger of being wrecked, and were separated, so that\nAeneas thought that all were lost except his own.\n\nAt this crisis, Neptune, hearing the storm raging, and knowing\nthat he had given no orders for one, raised his head above the\nwaves, and saw the fleet of Aeneas driving before the gale.\nKnowing the hostility of Juno, he was at no loss to account for\nit, but his anger was not the less at this interference in his\nprovince. He called the winds and dismissed them with a severe\nreprimand. He then soothed the waves, and brushed away the clouds\nfrom before the face of the sun. Some of the ships which had got\non the rocks he pried off with his own trident, while Triton and a\nsea-nymph, putting their shoulders under others, set them afloat\nagain. The Trojans, when the sea became calm, sought the nearest\nshore, which was the coast of Carthage, where Aeneas was so happy\nas to find that one by one the ships all arrived safe, though\nbadly shaken.\n\nWaller, in his \"Panegyric to the Lord Protector\" (Cromwell),\nalludes to this stilling of the storm by Neptune:\n\n    \"Above the waves, as Neptune showed his face,\n    To chide the winds and save the Trojan race,\n    So has your Highness, raised above the rest,\n    Storms of ambition tossing us repressed.\"\n\nDIDO\n\nCarthage, where the exiles had now arrived, was a spot on the\ncoast of Africa opposite Sicily, where at that time a Tyrian\ncolony under Dido, their queen, were laying the foundations of a\nstate destined in later ages to be the rival of Rome itself. Dido\nwas the daughter of Belus, king of Tyre, and sister of Pygmalion,\nwho succeeded his father on the throne. Her husband was Sichaeus,\na man of immense wealth, but Pygmalion, who coveted his treasures,\ncaused him to be put to death. Dido, with a numerous body of\nfriends and followers, both men and women, succeeded in effecting\ntheir escape from Tyre, in several vessels, carrying with them the\ntreasures of Sichaeus. On arriving at the spot which they selected\nas the seat of their future home, they asked of the natives only\nso much land as they could enclose with a bull's hide. When this\nwas readily granted, she caused the hide to be cut into strips,\nand with them enclosed a spot on which she built a citadel, and\ncalled it Byrsa (a hide). Around this fort the city of Carthage\nrose, and soon became a powerful and flourishing place.\n\nSuch was the state of affairs when Aeneas with his Trojans arrived\nthere. Dido received the illustrious exiles with friendliness and\nhospitality. \"Not unacquainted with distress,\" she said, \"I have\nlearned to succor the unfortunate.\" [Footnote: See Proverbial\nExpressions.] The queen's hospitality displayed itself in\nfestivities at which games of strength and skill were exhibited.\nThe strangers contended for the palm with her own subjects, on\nequal terms, the queen declaring that whether the victor were\n\"Trojan or Tyrian should make no difference to her.\" [Footnote 1:\nSee Proverbial Expressions.] At the feast which followed the\ngames, Aeneas gave at her request a recital of the closing events\nof the Trojan history and his own adventures after the fall of the\ncity. Dido was charmed with his discourse and filled with\nadmiration of his exploits. She conceived an ardent passion for\nhim, and he for his part seemed well content to accept the\nfortunate chance which appeared to offer him at once a happy\ntermination of his wanderings, a home, a kingdom, and a bride.\nMonths rolled away in the enjoyment of pleasant intercourse, and\nit seemed as if Italy and the empire destined to be founded on its\nshores were alike forgotten. Seeing which, Jupiter despatched\nMercury with a message to Aeneas recalling him to a sense of his\nhigh destiny, and commanding him to resume his voyage.\n\nAeneas parted from Dido, though she tried every allurement and\npersuasion to detain him. The blow to her affection and her pride\nwas too much for her to endure, and when she found that he was\ngone, she mounted a funeral pile which she had caused to be\nerected, and having stabbed herself was consumed with the pile.\nThe flames rising over the city were seen by the departing\nTrojans, and, though the cause was unknown, gave to Aeneas some\nintimation of the fatal event.\n\nThe following epigram we find in \"Elegant Extracts\":\n\nFROM THE LATIN\n\n   \"Unhappy, Dido, was thy fate\n    In first and second married state!\n    One husband caused thy flight by dying,\n    Thy death the other caused by flying\"\n\nPALINURUS\n\nAfter touching at the island of Sicily, where Acestes, a prince of\nTrojan lineage, bore sway, who gave them a hospitable reception,\nthe Trojans re-embarked, and held on their course for Italy. Venus\nnow interceded with Neptune to allow her son at last to attain the\nwished-for goal and find an end of his perils on the deep. Neptune\nconsented, stipulating only for one life as a ransom for the rest.\nThe victim was Palinurus, the pilot. As he sat watching the stars,\nwith his hand on the helm, Somnus sent by Neptune approached in\nthe guise of Phorbas and said: \"Palinurus, the breeze is fair, the\nwater smooth, and the ship sails steadily on her course. Lie down\nawhile and take needful rest. I will stand at the helm in your\nplace.\" Palinurus replied, \"Tell me not of smooth seas or favoring\nwinds,--me who have seen so much of their treachery. Shall I\ntrust Aeneas to the chances of the weather and the winds?\" And he\ncontinued to grasp the helm and to keep his eyes fixed on the\nstars. But Somnus waved over him a branch moistened with Lethaean\ndew, and his eyes closed in spite of all his efforts. Then Somnus\npushed him overboard and he fell; but keeping his hold upon the\nhelm, it came away with him. Neptune was mindful of his promise\nand kept the ship on her track without helm or pilot, till Aeneas\ndiscovered his loss, and, sorrowing deeply for his faithful\nsteersman, took charge of the ship himself.\n\nThere is a beautiful allusion to the story of Palinurus in Scott's\n\"Marmion,\" Introduction to Canto I., where the poet, speaking of\nthe recent death of William Pitt, says:\n\n    \"O, think how, to his latest day,\n    When death just hovering claimed his prey,\n    With Palinure's unaltered mood,\n    Firm at his dangerous post he stood;\n    Each call for needful rest repelled,\n    With dying hand the rudder held,\n    Till in his fall, with fateful sway,\n    The steerage of the realm gave way.\"\n\nThe ships at last reached the shores of Italy, and joyfully did\nthe adventurers leap to land. While his people were employed in\nmaking their encampment Aeneas sought the abode of the Sibyl. It\nwas a cave connected with a temple and grove, sacred to Apollo and\nDiana. While Aeneas contemplated the scene, the Sibyl accosted\nhim. She seemed to know his errand, and under the influence of the\ndeity of the place, burst forth in a prophetic strain, giving dark\nintimations of labors and perils through which he was destined to\nmake his way to final success. She closed with the encouraging\nwords which have become proverbial: \"Yield not to disasters, but\npress onward the more bravely.\" [Footnote: See Proverbial\nExpressions.] Aeneas replied that he had prepared himself for\nwhatever might await him. He had but one request to make. Having\nbeen directed in a dream to seek the abode of the dead in order to\nconfer with his father, Anchises, to receive from him a revelation\nof his future fortunes and those of his race, he asked her\nassistance to enable him to accomplish the task. The Sibyl\nreplied, \"The descent to Avernus is easy: the gate of Pluto stands\nopen night and day; but to retrace one's steps and return to the\nupper air, that is the toil, that the difficulty.\"[Footnote: See\nProverbial Expressions.] She instructed him to seek in the forest\na tree on which grew a golden branch. This branch was to be\nplucked off and borne as a gift to Proserpine, and if fate was\npropitious it would yield to the hand and quit its parent trunk,\nbut otherwise no force could rend it away. If torn away, another\nwould succeed.[Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.]\n\nAeneas followed the directions of the Sibyl. His mother, Venus,\nsent two of her doves to fly before him and show him the way, and\nby their assistance he found the tree, plucked the branch, and\nhastened back with it to the Sibyl.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nTHE INFERNAL REGIONS--THE SIBYL\n\nTHE INFERNAL REGIONS\n\n\nAs at the commencement of our series we have given the pagan\naccount of the creation of the world, so as we approach its\nconclusion we present a view of the regions of the dead, depicted\nby one of their most enlightened poets, who drew his doctrines\nfrom their most esteemed philosophers. The region where Virgil\nlocates the entrance to this abode is perhaps the most strikingly\nadapted to excite ideas of the terrific and preternatural of any\non the face of the earth. It is the volcanic region near Vesuvius,\nwhere the whole country is cleft with chasms, from which\nsulphurous flames arise, while the ground is shaken with pent-up\nvapors, and mysterious sounds issue from the bowels of the earth.\nThe lake Avernus is supposed to fill the crater of an extinct\nvolcano. It is circular, half a mile wide, and very deep,\nsurrounded by high banks, which in Virgil's time were covered with\na gloomy forest. Mephitic vapors rise from its waters, so that no\nlife is found on its banks, and no birds fly over it. Here,\naccording to the poet, was the cave which afforded access to the\ninfernal regions, and here Aeneas offered sacrifices to the\ninfernal deities, Proserpine, Hecate, and the Furies. Then a\nroaring was heard in the earth, the woods on the hill-tops were\nshaken, and the howling of dogs announced the approach of the\ndeities. \"Now,\" said the Sibyl, \"summon up your courage, for you\nwill need it.\" She descended into the cave, and Aeneas followed.\nBefore the threshold of hell they passed through a group of beings\nwho are enumerated as Griefs and avenging Cares, pale Diseases and\nmelancholy Age, Fear and Hunger that tempt to crime, Toil,\nPoverty, and Death,--forms horrible to view. The Furies spread\ntheir couches there, and Discord, whose hair was of vipers tied up\nwith a bloody fillet. Here also were the monsters, Briareus, with\nhis hundred arms, Hydras hissing, and Chimaeras breathing fire.\nAeneas shuddered at the sight, drew his sword and would have\nstruck, but the Sibyl restrained him. They then came to the black\nriver Cocytus, where they found the ferryman, Charon, old and\nsqualid, but strong and vigorous, who was receiving passengers of\nall kinds into his boat, magnanimous heroes, boys and unmarried\ngirls, as numerous as the leaves that fall at autumn, or the\nflocks that fly southward at the approach of winter. They stood\npressing for a passage and longing to touch the opposite shore.\nBut the stern ferryman took in only such as he chose, driving the\nrest back. Aeneas, wondering at the sight, asked the Sibyl, \"Why\nthis discrimination?\" She answered, \"Those who are taken on board\nthe bark are the souls of those who have received due burial\nrites; the host of others who have remained unburied are not\npermitted to pass the flood, but wander a hundred years, and flit\nto and fro about the shore, till at last they are taken over.\"\nAeneas grieved at recollecting some of his own companions who had\nperished in the storm. At that moment he beheld Palinurus, his\npilot, who fell overboard and was drowned. He addressed him and\nasked him the cause of his misfortune. Palinurus replied that the\nrudder was carried away, and he, clinging to it, was swept away\nwith it. He besought Aeneas most urgently to extend to him his\nhand and take him in company to the opposite shore. But the Sibyl\nrebuked him for the wish thus to transgress the laws of Pluto; but\nconsoled him by informing him that the people of the shore where\nhis body had been wafted by the waves should be stirred up by\nprodigies to give it due burial, and that the promontory should\nbear the name of Cape Palinurus, which it does to this day.\nLeaving Palinurus consoled by these words, they approached the\nboat. Charon, fixing his eyes sternly upon the advancing warrior,\ndemanded by what right he, living and armed, approached that\nshore. To which the Sibyl replied that they would commit no\nviolence, that Aeneas's only object was to see his father, and\nfinally exhibited the golden branch, at sight of which Charon's\nwrath relaxed, and he made haste to turn his bark to the shore,\nand receive them on board. The boat, adapted only to the light\nfreight of bodiless spirits, groaned under the weight of the hero.\nThey were soon conveyed to the opposite shore. There they were\nencountered by the three-headed dog, Cerberus, with his necks\nbristling with snakes. He barked with all his three throats till\nthe Sibyl threw him a medicated cake which he eagerly devoured,\nand then stretched himself out in his den and fell asleep. Aeneas\nand the Sibyl sprang to land. The first sound that struck their\nears was the wailing of young children, who had died on the\nthreshold of life, and near to these were they who had perished\nunder false charges. Minos presides over them as judge, and\nexamines the deeds of each. The next class was of those who had\ndied by their own hand, hating life and seeking refuge in death. O\nhow willingly would they now endure poverty, labor, and any other\ninfliction, if they might but return to life! Next were situated\nthe regions of sadness, divided off into retired paths, leading\nthrough groves of myrtle. Here roamed those who had fallen victims\nto unrequited love, not freed from pain even by death itself.\nAmong these, Aeneas thought he descried the form of Dido, with a\nwound still recent. In the dim light he was for a moment\nuncertain, but approaching, perceived it was indeed herself. Tears\nfell from his eyes, and he addressed her in the accents of love.\n\"Unhappy Dido! was then the rumor true that you had perished? and\nwas I, alas! the cause? I call the gods to witness that my\ndeparture from you was reluctant, and in obedience to the commands\nof Jove; nor could I believe that my absence would cost you so\ndear. Stop, I beseech you, and refuse me not a last farewell.\" She\nstood for a moment with averted countenance, and eyes fixed on the\nground, and then silently passed on, as insensible to his\npleadings as a rock. Aeneas followed for some distance; then, with\na heavy heart, rejoined his companion and resumed his route.\n\nThey next entered the fields where roam the heroes who have fallen\nin battle. Here they saw many shades of Grecian and Trojan\nwarriors. The Trojans thronged around him, and could not be\nsatisfied with the sight. They asked the cause of his coming, and\nplied him with innumerable questions. But the Greeks, at the sight\nof his armor glittering through the murky atmosphere, recognized\nthe hero, and filled with terror turned their backs and fled, as\nthey used to do on the plains of Troy.\n\nAeneas would have lingered long with his Trojan friends, but the\nSibyl hurried him away. They next came to a place where the road\ndivided, the one leading to Elysium, the other to the regions of\nthe condemned. Aeneas beheld on one side the walls of a mighty\ncity, around which Phlegethon rolled its fiery waters. Before him\nwas the gate of adamant that neither gods nor men can break\nthrough. An iron tower stood by the gate, on which Tisiphone, the\navenging Fury, kept guard. From the city were heard groans, and\nthe sound of the scourge, the creaking of iron, and the clanking\nof chains. Aeneas, horror-struck, inquired of his guide what\ncrimes were those whose punishments produced the sounds he heard?\nThe Sibyl answered, \"Here is the judgment hall of Rhadamanthus,\nwho brings to light crimes done in life, which the perpetrator\nvainly thought impenetrably hid. Tisiphone applies her whip of\nscorpions, and delivers the offender over to her sister Furies.\"\nAt this moment with horrid clang the brazen gates unfolded, and\nAeneas saw within a Hydra with fifty heads guarding the entrance.\nThe Sibyl told him that the gulf of Tartarus descended deep, so\nthat its recesses were as far beneath their feet as heaven was\nhigh above their heads. In the bottom of this pit, the Titan race,\nwho warred against the gods, lie prostrate; Salmoneus, also, who\npresumed to vie with Jupiter, and built a bridge of brass over\nwhich he drove his chariot that the sound might resemble thunder,\nlaunching flaming brands at his people in imitation of lightning,\ntill Jupiter struck him with a real thunderbolt, and taught him\nthe difference between mortal weapons and divine. Here, also, is\nTityus, the giant, whose form is so immense that as he lies he\nstretches over nine acres, while a vulture preys upon his liver,\nwhich as fast as it is devoured grows again, so that his\npunishment will have no end.\n\nAeneas saw groups seated at tables loaded with dainties, while\nnear by stood a Fury who snatched away the viands from their lips\nas fast as they prepared to taste them. Others beheld suspended\nover their heads huge rocks, threatening to fall, keeping them in\na state of constant alarm. These were they who had hated their\nbrothers, or struck their parents, or defrauded the friends who\ntrusted them, or who, having grown rich, kept their money to\nthemselves, and gave no share to others; the last being the most\nnumerous class. Here also were those who had violated the marriage\nvow, or fought in a bad cause, or failed in fidelity to their\nemployers. Here was one who had sold his country for gold, another\nwho perverted the laws, making them say one thing to-day and\nanother to-morrow.\n\nIxion was there, fastened to the circumference of a wheel\nceaselessly revolving; and Sisyphus, whose task was to roll a huge\nstone up to a hill-top, but when the steep was well-nigh gained,\nthe rock, repulsed by some sudden force, rushed again headlong\ndown to the plain. Again he toiled at it, while the sweat bathed\nall his weary limbs, but all to no effect. There was Tantalus, who\nstood in a pool, his chin level with the water, yet he was parched\nwith thirst, and found nothing to assuage it; for when he bowed\nhis hoary head, eager to quaff, the water fled away, leaving the\nground at his feet all dry. Tall trees laden with fruit stooped\ntheir heads to him, pears, pomegranates, apples, and luscious\nfigs; but when with a sudden grasp he tried to seize them winds\nwhirled them high above his reach.\n\nThe Sibyl now warned Aeneas that it was time to turn from these\nmelancholy regions and seek the city of the blessed. They passed\nthrough a middle tract of darkness, and came upon the Elysian\nfields, the groves where the happy reside. They breathed a freer\nair, and saw all objects clothed in a purple light. The region has\na sun and stars of its own. The inhabitants were enjoying\nthemselves in various ways, some in sports on the grassy turf, in\ngames of strength or skill. others dancing or singing. Orpheus\nstruck the chords of his lyre, and called forth ravishing sounds.\nHere Aeneas saw the founders of the Trojan state, magnanimous\nheroes who lived in happier times. He gazed with admiration on the\nwar chariots and glittering arms now reposing in disuse. Spears\nstood fixed in the ground, and the horses, unharnessed, roamed\nover the plain. The same pride in splendid armor and generous\nsteeds which the old heroes felt in life, accompanied them here.\nHe saw another group feasting and listening to the strains of\nmusic. They were in a laurel grove, whence the great river Po has\nits origin, and flows out among men. Here dwelt those who fell by\nwounds received in their country's cause, holy priests also, and\npoets who have uttered thoughts worthy of Apollo, and others who\nhave contributed to cheer and adorn life by their discoveries in\nthe useful arts, and have made their memory blessed by rendering\nservice to mankind. They wore snow-white fillets about their\nbrows. The Sibyl addressed a group of these, and inquired where\nAnchises was to be found. They were directed where to seek him,\nand soon found him in a verdant valley, where he was contemplating\nthe ranks of his posterity, their destinies and worthy deeds to be\nachieved in coming times. When he recognized Aeneas approaching,\nhe stretched out both hands to him, while tears flowed freely.\n\"Have you come at last,\" said he, \"long expected, and do I behold\nyou after such perils past? O my son, how have I trembled for you\nas I have watched your career!\" To which Aeneas replied, \"O\nfather! your image was always before me to guide and guard me.\"\nThen he endeavored to enfold his father in his embrace, but his\narms enclosed only an unsubstantial image.\n\nAeneas perceived before him a spacious valley, with trees gently\nwaving to the wind, a tranquil landscape, through which the river\nLethe flowed. Along the banks of the stream wandered a countless\nmultitude, numerous as insects in the summer air. Aeneas, with\nsurprise, inquired who were these. Anchises answered, \"They are\nsouls to which bodies are to be given in due time. Meanwhile they\ndwell on Lethe's bank, and drink oblivion of their former lives.\"\n\"O father!\" said Aeneas, \"is it possible that any can be so in\nlove with life as to wish to leave these tranquil seats for the\nupper world?\" Anchises replied by explaining the plan of creation.\nThe Creator, he told him, originally made the material of which\nsouls are composed of the four elements, fire, air, earth, and\nwater, all which when united took the form of the most excellent\npart, fire, and became FLAME. This material was scattered like\nseed among the heavenly bodies, the sun, moon, and stars. Of this\nseed the inferior gods created man and all other animals, mingling\nit with various proportions of earth, by which its purity was\nalloyed and reduced. Thus, the more earth predominates in the\ncomposition the less pure is the individual; and we see men and\nwomen with their full-grown bodies have not the purity of\nchildhood. So in proportion to the time which the union of body\nand soul has lasted is the impurity contracted by the spiritual\npart. This impurity must be purged away after death, which is done\nby ventilating the souls in the current of winds, or merging them\nin water, or burning out their impurities by fire. Some few, of\nwhom Anchises intimates that he is one, are admitted at once to\nElysium, there to remain. But the rest, after the impurities of\nearth are purged away, are sent back to life endowed with new\nbodies, having had the remembrance of their former lives\neffectually washed away by the waters of Lethe. Some, however,\nthere still are, so thoroughly corrupted, that they are not fit to\nbe intrusted with human bodies, and these are made into brute\nanimals, lions, tigers, cats, dogs, monkeys, etc. This is what the\nancients called Metempsychosis, or the transmigration of souls; a\ndoctrine which is still held by the natives of India, who scruple\nto destroy the life even of the most insignificant animal, not\nknowing but it may be one of their relations in an altered form.\n\nAnchises, having explained so much, proceeded to point out to\nAeneas individuals of his race, who were hereafter to be born, and\nto relate to him the exploits they should perform in the world.\nAfter this he reverted to the present, and told his son of the\nevents that remained to him to be accomplished before the complete\nestablishment of himself and his followers in Italy. Wars were to\nbe waged, battles fought, a bride to be won, and in the result a\nTrojan state founded, from which should rise the Roman power, to\nbe in time the sovereign of the world.\n\nAeneas and the Sibyl then took leave of Anchises, and returned by\nsome short cut, which the poet does not explain, to the upper\nworld.\n\nELYSIUM\n\nVirgil, we have seen, places his Elysium under the earth, and\nassigns it for a residence to the spirits of the blessed. But in\nHomer Elysium forms no part of the realms of the dead. He places\nit on the west of the earth, near Ocean, and describes it as a\nhappy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor rain, and\nalways fanned by the delightful breezes of Zephyrus. Hither\nfavored heroes pass without dying and live happy under the rule of\nRhadamanthus. The Elysium of Hesiod and Pindar is in the Isles of\nthe Blessed, or Fortunate Islands, in the Western Ocean. From\nthese sprang the legend of the happy island Atlantis. This\nblissful region may have been wholly imaginary, but possibly may\nhave sprung from the reports of some storm-driven mariners who had\ncaught a glimpse of the coast of America.\n\nJ. R. Lowell, in one of his shorter poems, claims for the present\nage some of the privileges of that happy realm. Addressing the\nPast, he says:\n\n     \"Whatever of true life there was in thee,\n        Leaps in our age's veins.\n\n     Here, 'mid the bleak waves of our strife and care,\n       Float the green 'Fortunate Isles,'\n     Where all thy hero-spirits dwell and share\n       Our martyrdoms and toils.\n         The present moves attended\n     With all of brave and excellent and fair\n         That made the old time splendid.\"\n\nMilton also alludes to the same fable in \"Paradise Lost,\" Book\nIII, 1. 568:\n\n    \"Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old,\n    Fortunate fields and groves and flowery vales,\n    Thrice happy isles.\"\n\nAnd in Book II. he characterizes the rivers of Erebus according to\nthe meaning of their names in the Greek language:\n\n    \"Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate,\n    Sad Acheron of sorrow black and deep;\n    Cocytus named of lamentation loud\n    Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon\n    Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.\n    Far off from these a slow and silent stream,\n    Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls\n    Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks\n    Forthwith his former state and being forgets,\n    Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.\"\n\nTHE SIBYL\n\nAs Aeneas and the Sibyl pursued their way back to earth, he said\nto her, \"Whether thou be a goddess or a mortal beloved of the\ngods, by me thou shalt always be held in reverence. When I reach\nthe upper air I will cause a temple to be built to thy honor, and\nwill myself bring offerings.\" \"I am no goddess,\" said the Sibyl;\n\"I have no claim to sacrifice or offering. I am mortal; yet if I\ncould have accepted the love of Apollo I might have been immortal.\nHe promised me the fulfilment of my wish, if I would consent to be\nhis. I took a handful of sand, and holding it forth, said, 'Grant\nme to see as many birthdays as there are sand grains in my hand.'\nUnluckily I forgot to ask for enduring youth. This also he would\nhave granted, could I have accepted his love, but offended at my\nrefusal, he allowed me to grow old. My youth and youthful strength\nfled long ago. I have lived seven hundred years, and to equal the\nnumber of the sand grains I have still to see three hundred\nsprings and three hundred harvests. My body shrinks up as years\nincrease, and in time, I shall be lost to sight, but my voice will\nremain, and future ages will respect my sayings.\"\n\nThese concluding words of the Sibyl alluded to her prophetic\npower. In her cave she was accustomed to inscribe on leaves\ngathered from the trees the names and fates of individuals. The\nleaves thus inscribed were arranged in order within the cave, and\nmight be consulted by her votaries. But if perchance at the\nopening of the door the wind rushed in and dispersed the leaves\nthe Sibyl gave no aid to restoring them again, and the oracle was\nirreparably lost.\n\nThe following legend of the Sibyl is fixed at a later date. In the\nreign of one of the Tarquins there appeared before the king a\nwoman who offered him nine books for sale. The king refused to\npurchase them, whereupon the woman went away and burned three of\nthe books, and returning offered the remaining books for the same\nprice she had asked for the nine. The king again rejected them;\nbut when the woman, after burning three books more, returned and\nasked for the three remaining the same price which she had before\nasked for the nine, his curiosity was excited, and he purchased\nthe books. They were found to contain the destinies of the Roman\nstate. They were kept in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus,\npreserved in a stone chest, and allowed to be inspected only by\nespecial officers appointed for that duty, who, on great\noccasions, consulted them and interpreted their oracles to the\npeople.\n\nThere were various Sibyls; but the Cumaean Sibyl, of whom Ovid and\nVirgil write, is the most celebrated of them. Ovid's story of her\nlife protracted to one thousand years may be intended to represent\nthe various Sibyls as being only reappearances of one and the same\nindividual.\n\nYoung, in the \"Night Thoughts,\" alludes to the Sibyl. Speaking of\nWorldly Wisdom, he says:\n\n   \"If future fate she plans 'tis all in leaves,\n    Like Sibyl, unsubstantial, fleeting bliss;\n    At the first blast it vanishes in air.\n\n    As worldly schemes resemble Sibyl's leaves,\n    The good man's days to Sibyl's books compare,\n    The price still rising as in number less.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII\n\nCAMILLA--EVANDER--NISUS AND EURYALUS--MEZENTIUS--TURNUS\n\n\nAeneas, having parted from the Sibyl and rejoined his fleet,\ncoasted along the shores of Italy and cast anchor in the mouth of\nthe Tiber. The poet, having brought his hero to this spot, the\ndestined termination of his wanderings, invokes his Muse to tell\nhim the situation of things at that eventful moment. Latinus,\nthird in descent from Saturn, ruled the country. He was now old\nand had no male descendant, but had one charming daughter,\nLavinia, who was sought in marriage by many neighboring chiefs,\none of whom, Turnus, king of the Rutulians, was favored by the\nwishes of her parents. But Latinus had been warned in a dream by\nhis father Faunus, that the destined husband of Lavinia should\ncome from a foreign land. From that union should spring a race\ndestined to subdue the world.\n\nOur readers will remember that in the conflict with the Harpies\none of those half-human birds had threatened the Trojans with dire\nsufferings. In particular she predicted that before their\nwanderings ceased they should be pressed by hunger to devour their\ntables. This portent now came true; for as they took their scanty\nmeal, seated on the grass, the men placed their hard biscuit on\ntheir laps, and put thereon whatever their gleanings in the woods\nsupplied. Having despatched the latter they finished by eating the\ncrusts. Seeing which, the boy Iulus said playfully, \"See, we are\neating our tables.\" Aeneas caught the words and accepted the omen.\n\"All hail, promised land!\" he exclaimed, \"this is our home, this\nour country.\" He then took measures to find out who were the\npresent inhabitants of the land, and who their rulers. A hundred\nchosen men were sent to the village of Latinus, bearing presents\nand a request for friendship and alliance. They went and were\nfavorably received. Latinus immediately concluded that the Trojan\nhero was no other than the promised son-in-law announced by the\noracle. He cheerfully granted his alliance and sent back the\nmessengers mounted on steeds from his stables, and loaded with\ngifts and friendly messages.\n\nJuno, seeing things go thus prosperously for the Trojans, felt her\nold animosity revive, summoned Alecto from Erebus, and sent her to\nstir up discord. The Fury first took possession of the queen,\nAmata, and roused her to oppose in every way the new alliance.\nAlecto then speeded to the city of Turnus, and assuming the form\nof an old priestess, informed him of the arrival of the foreigners\nand of the attempts of their prince to rob him of his bride. Next\nshe turned her attention to the camp of the Trojans. There she saw\nthe boy Iulus and his companions amusing themselves with hunting.\nShe sharpened the scent of the dogs, and led them to rouse up from\nthe thicket a tame stag, the favorite of Silvia, the daughter of\nTyrrheus, the king's herdsman. A javelin from the hand of Iulus\nwounded the animal, and he had only strength left to run\nhomewards, and died at his mistress's feet. Her cries and tears\nroused her brothers and the herdsmen, and they, seizing whatever\nweapons came to hand, furiously assaulted the hunting party. These\nwere protected by their friends, and the herdsmen were finally\ndriven back with the loss of two of their number.\n\nThese things were enough to rouse the storm of war, and the queen,\nTurnus, and the peasants all urged the old king to drive the\nstrangers from the country. He resisted as long as he could, but,\nfinding his opposition unavailing, finally gave way and retreated\nto his retirement.\n\nOPENING THE GATES OF JANUS\n\nIt was the custom of the country, when war was to be undertaken,\nfor the chief magistrate, clad in his robes of office, with solemn\npomp to open the gates of the temple of Janus, which were kept\nshut as long as peace endured. His people now urged the old king\nto perform that solemn office, but he refused to do so. While they\ncontested, Juno herself, descending from the skies, smote the\ndoors with irresistible force, and burst them open. Immediately\nthe whole country was in a flame. The people rushed from every\nside breathing nothing but war.\n\nTurnus was recognized by all as leader; others joined as allies,\nchief of whom was Mezentius, a brave and able soldier, but of\ndetestable cruelty. He had been the chief of one of the\nneighboring cities, but his people drove him out. With him was\njoined his son Lausus, a generous youth, worthy of a better sire.\n\nCAMILLA\n\nCamilla, the favorite of Diana, a huntress and warrior, after the\nfashion of the Amazons, came with her band of mounted followers,\nincluding a select number of her own sex, and ranged herself on\nthe side of Turnus. This maiden had never accustomed her fingers\nto the distaff or the loom, but had learned to endure the toils of\nwar, and in speed to outstrip the wind. It seemed as if she might\nrun over the standing corn without crushing it, or over the\nsurface of the water without dipping her feet. Camilla's history\nhad been singular from the beginning. Her father, Metabus, driven\nfrom his city by civil discord, carried with him in his flight his\ninfant daughter. As he fled through the woods, his enemies in hot\npursuit, he reached the bank of the river Amazenus, which, swelled\nby rains, seemed to debar a passage. He paused for a moment, then\ndecided what to do. He tied the infant to his lance with wrappers\nof bark, and poising the weapon in his upraised hand thus\naddressed Diana: \"Goddess of the woods! I consecrate this maid to\nyou;\" then hurled the weapon with its burden to the opposite bank.\nThe spear flew across the roaring water. His pursuers were already\nupon him, but he plunged into the river and swam across, and found\nthe spear, with the infant safe on the other side. Thenceforth he\nlived among the shepherds and brought up his daughter in woodland\narts. While a child she was taught to use the bow and throw the\njavelin. With her sling she could bring down the crane or the wild\nswan. Her dress was a tiger's skin. Many mothers sought her for a\ndaughter-in-law, but she continued faithful to Diana and repelled\nthe thought of marriage.\n\nEVANDER\n\nSuch were the formidable allies that ranged themselves against\nAeneas. It was night and he lay stretched in sleep on the bank of\nthe river under the open heavens. The god of the stream, Father\nTiber, seemed to raise his head above the willows and to say, \"O\ngoddess-born, destined possessor of the Latin realms, this is the\npromised land, here is to be your home, here shall terminate the\nhostility of the heavenly powers, if only you faithfully\npersevere. There are friends not far distant. Prepare your boats\nand row up my stream; I will lead you to Evander, the Arcadian\nchief, he has long been at strife with Turnus and the Rutulians,\nand is prepared to become an ally of yours. Rise! offer your vows\nto Juno, and deprecate her anger. When you have achieved your\nvictory then think of me.\" Aeneas woke and paid immediate\nobedience to the friendly vision. He sacrificed to Juno, and\ninvoked the god of the river and all his tributary fountains to\nlend their aid. Then for the first time a vessel filled with armed\nwarriors floated on the stream of the Tiber. The river smoothed\nits waves, and bade its current flow gently, while, impelled by\nthe vigorous strokes of the rowers, the vessels shot rapidly up\nthe stream.\n\nAbout the middle of the day they came in sight of the scattered\nbuildings of the infant town, where in after times the proud city\nof Rome grew, whose glory reached the skies. By chance the old\nking, Evander, was that day celebrating annual solemnities in\nhonor of Hercules and all the gods. Pallas, his son, and all the\nchiefs of the little commonwealth stood by. When they saw the tall\nship gliding onward near the wood, they were alarmed at the sight,\nand rose from the tables. But Pallas forbade the solemnities to be\ninterrupted, and seizing a weapon, stepped forward to the river's\nbank. He called aloud, demanding who they were, and what their\nobject. Aeneas, holding forth an olive-branch, replied, \"We are\nTrojans, friends to you, and enemies to the Rutulians. We seek\nEvander, and offer to join our arms with yours.\" Pallas, in amaze\nat the sound of so great a name, invited them to land, and when\nAeneas touched the shore he seized his hand, and held it long in\nfriendly grasp. Proceeding through the wood, they joined the king\nand his party and were most favorably received. Seats were\nprovided for them at the tables, and the repast proceeded.\n\nINFANT ROME\n\nWhen the solemnities were ended all moved towards the city. The\nking, bending with age, walked between his son and Aeneas, taking\nthe arm of one or the other of them, and with much variety of\npleasing talk shortening the way. Aeneas with delight looked and\nlistened, observing all the beauties of the scene, and learning\nmuch of heroes renowned in ancient times. Evander said, \"These\nextensive groves were once inhabited by fauns and nymphs, and a\nrude race of men who sprang from the trees themselves, and had\nneither laws nor social culture. They knew not how to yoke the\ncattle nor raise a harvest, nor provide from present abundance for\nfuture want; but browsed like beasts upon the leafy boughs, or fed\nvoraciously on their hunted prey. Such were they when Saturn,\nexpelled from Olympus by his sons, came among them and drew\ntogether the fierce savages, formed them into society, and gave\nthem laws. Such peace and plenty ensued that men ever since have\ncalled his reign the golden age; but by degrees far other times\nsucceeded, and the thirst of gold and the thirst of blood\nprevailed. The land was a prey to successive tyrants, till fortune\nand resistless destiny brought me hither, an exile from my native\nland, Arcadia.\"\n\nHaving thus said, he showed him the Tarpeian rock, and the rude\nspot then overgrown with bushes where in after times the Capitol\nrose in all its magnificence. He next pointed to some dismantled\nwalls, and said, \"Here stood Janiculum, built by Janus, and there\nSaturnia, the town of Saturn.\" Such discourse brought them to the\ncottage of poor Evander, whence they saw the lowing herds roaming\nover the plain where now the proud and stately Forum stands. They\nentered, and a couch was spread for Aeneas, well stuffed with\nleaves, and covered with the skin of a Libyan bear.\n\nNext morning, awakened by the dawn and the shrill song of birds\nbeneath the eaves of his low mansion, old Evander rose. Clad in a\ntunic, and a panther's skin thrown over his shoulders, with\nsandals on his feet and his good sword girded to his side, he went\nforth to seek his guest. Two mastiffs followed him, his whole\nretinue and body guard. He found the hero attended by his faithful\nAchates, and, Pallas soon joining them, the old king spoke thus:\n\n\"Illustrious Trojan, it is but little we can do in so great a\ncause. Our state is feeble, hemmed in on one side by the river, on\nthe other by the Rutulians. But I propose to ally you with a\npeople numerous and rich, to whom fate has brought you at the\npropitious moment. The Etruscans hold the country beyond the\nriver. Mezentius was their king, a monster of cruelty, who\ninvented unheard-of torments to gratify his vengeance. He would\nfasten the dead to the living, hand to hand and face to face, and\nleave the wretched victims to die in that dreadful embrace. At\nlength the people cast him out, him and his house. They burned his\npalace and slew his friends. He escaped and took refuge with\nTurnus, who protects him with arms. The Etruscans demand that he\nshall be given up to deserved punishment, and would ere now have\nattempted to enforce their demand; but their priests restrain\nthem, telling them that it is the will of heaven that no native of\nthe land shall guide them to victory, and that thsir destined\nleader must come from across the sea. They have offered the crown\nto me, but I am too old to undertake such great affairs, and my\nson is native-born, which precludes him from the choice. You,\nequally by birth and time of life, and fame in arms, pointed out\nby the gods, have but to appear to be hailed at once as their\nleader. With you I will join Pallas, my son, my only hope and\ncomfort. Under you he shall learn the art of war, and strive to\nemulate your great exploits.\"\n\nThen the king ordered horses to be furnished for the Trojan\nchiefs, and Aeneas, with a chosen band of followers and Pallas\naccompanying, mounted and took the way to the Etruscan city,\n[Footnote: The poet here inserts a famous line which is thought to\nimitate in its sound the galloping of horses. It may be thus\ntranslated--\"Then struck the hoofs of the steeds on the ground\nwith a four-footed trampling.\"--See Proverbial Expressions.]\nhaving sent back the rest of his party in the ships. Aeneas and\nhis band safely arrived at the Etruscan camp and were received\nwith open arms by Tarchon and his countrymen.\n\nNISUS AND EURYALUS\n\nIn the meanwhile Turnus had collected his bands and made all\nnecessary preparations for the war. Juno sent Iris to him with a\nmessage inciting him to take advantage of the absence of Aeneas\nand surprise the Trojan camp. Accordingly the attempt was made,\nbut the Trojans were found on their guard, and having received\nstrict orders from Aeneas not to fight in his absence, they lay\nstill in their intrenchments, and resisted all the efforts of the\nRutulians to draw them into the field. Night coming on, the army\nof Turnus, in high spirits at their fancied superiority, feasted\nand enjoyed themselves, and finally stretched themselves on the\nfield and slept secure.\n\nIn the camp of the Trojans things were far otherwise. There all\nwas watchfulness and anxiety and impatience for Aeneas's return.\nNisus stood guard at the entrance of the camp, and Euryalus, a\nyouth distinguished above all in the army for graces of person and\nfine qualities, was with him. These two were friends and brothers\nin arms. Nisus said to his friend, \"Do you perceive what\nconfidence and carelessness the enemy display? Their lights are\nfew and dim, and the men seem all oppressed with wine or sleep.\nYou know how anxiously our chiefs wish to send to Aeneas, and to\nget intelligence from him. Now, I am strongly moved to make my way\nthrough the enemy's camp and to go in search of our chief. If I\nsucceed, the glory of the deed will be reward enough for me, and\nif they judge the service deserves anything more, let them pay it\nto you.\"\n\nEuryalus, all on fire with the love of adventure, replied, \"Would\nyou, then, Nisus, refuse to share your enterprise with me? And\nshall I let you go into such danger alone? Not so my brave father\nbrought me up, nor so have I planned for myself when I joined the\nstandard of Aeneas, and resolved to hold my life cheap in\ncomparison with honor.\" Nisus replied, \"I doubt it not, my friend;\nbut you know the uncertain event of such an undertaking, and\nwhatever may happen to me, I wish you to be safe. You are younger\nthan I and have more of life in prospect. Nor can I be the cause\nof such grief to your mother, who has chosen to be here in the\ncamp with you rather than stay and live in peace with the other\nmatrons in Acestes' city.\" Euryalus replied, \"Say no more. In vain\nyou seek arguments to dissuade me. I am fixed in the resolution to\ngo with you. Let us lose no time.\" They called the guard, and\ncommitting the watch to them, sought the general's tent. They\nfound the chief officers in consultation, deliberating how they\nshould send notice to Aeneas of their situation. The offer of the\ntwo friends was gladly accepted, themselves loaded with praises\nand promised the most liberal rewards in case of success. Iulus\nespecially addressed Euryalus, assuring him of his lasting\nfriendship. Euryalus replied, \"I have but one boon to ask. My aged\nmother is with me in the camp. For me she left the Trojan soil,\nand would not stay behind with the other matrons at the city of\nAcestes. I go now without taking leave of her. I could not bear\nher tears nor set at nought her entreaties. But do thou, I beseech\nyou, comfort her in her distress. Promise me that and I shall go\nmore boldly into whatever dangers may present themselves.\" Iulus\nand the other chiefs were moved to tears, and promised to do all\nhis request. \"Your mother shall be mine,\" said Iulus, \"and all\nthat I have promised to you shall be made good to her, if you do\nnot return to receive it.\"\n\nThe two friends left the camp and plunged at once into the midst\nof the enemy. They found no watch, no sentinels posted, but, all\nabout, the sleeping soldiers strewn on the grass and among the\nwagons. The laws of war at that early day did not forbid a brave\nman to slay a sleeping foe, and the two Trojans slew, as they\npassed, such of the enemy as they could without exciting alarm. In\none tent Euryalus made prize of a helmet brilliant with gold and\nplumes. They had passed through the enemy's ranks without being\ndiscovered, but now suddenly appeared a troop directly in front of\nthem, which, under Volscens, their leader, were approaching the\ncamp. The glittering helmet of Euryalus caught their attention,\nand Volscens hailed the two, and demanded who and whence they\nwere. They made no answer, but plunged into the wood. The horsemen\nscattered in all directions to intercept their flight. Nisus had\neluded pursuit and was out of danger, but Euryalus being missing\nhe turned back to seek him. He again entered the wood and soon\ncame within sound of voices. Looking through the thicket he saw\nthe whole band surrounding Euryalus with noisy questions. What\nshould he do? how extricate the youth, or would it be better to\ndie with him.\n\nRaising his eyes to the moon, which now shone clear, he said,\n\"Goddess! favor my effort!\" and aiming his javelin at one of the\nleaders of the troop, struck him in the back and stretched him on\nthe plain with a death-blow. In the midst of their amazement\nanother weapon flew and another of the party fell dead. Volscens,\nthe leader, ignorant whence the darts came, rushed sword in hand\nupon Euryalus. \"You shall pay the penalty of both,\" he said, and\nwould have plunged the sword into his bosom, when Nisus, who from\nhis concealment saw the peril of his friend, rushed forward\nexclaiming, \"'Twas I, 'twas I; turn your swords against me,\nRutulians, I did it; he only followed me as a friend.\" While he\nspoke the sword fell, and pierced the comely bosom of Euryalus.\nHis head fell over on his shoulder, like a flower cut down by the\nplough. Nisus rushed upon Volscens and plunged his sword into his\nbody, and was himself slain on the instant by numberless blows.\n\nMEZENTIUS\n\nAeneas, with his Etrurian allies, arrived on the scene of action\nin time to rescue his beleaguered camp; and now the two armies\nbeing nearly equal in strength, the war began in good earnest. We\ncannot find space for all the details, but must simply record the\nfate of the principal characters whom we have introduced to our\nreaders. The tyrant Mezentius, finding himself engaged against his\nrevolting subjects, raged like a wild beast. He slew all who dared\nto withstand him, and put the multitude to flight wherever he\nappeared. At last he encountered Aeneas, and the armies stood\nstill to see the issue. Mezentius threw his spear, which striking\nAeneas's shield glanced off and hit Anthor. He was a Grecian by\nbirth, who had left Argos, his native city, and followed Evander\ninto Italy. The poet says of him with simple pathos which has made\nthe words proverbial, \"He fell, unhappy, by a wound intended for\nanother, looked up at the skies, and dying remembered sweet\nArgos.\" [Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.] Aeneas now in turn\nhurled his lance. It pierced the shield of Mezentius, and wounded\nhim in the thigh. Lausus, his son, could not bear the sight, but\nrushed forward and interposed himself, while the followers pressed\nround Mezentius and bore him away. Aeneas held his sword suspended\nover Lausus and delayed to strike, but the furious youth pressed\non and he was compelled to deal the fatal blow. Lausus fell, and\nAeneas bent over him in pity. \"Hapless youth,\" he said, \"what can\nI do for you worthy of your praise? Keep those arms in which you\nglory, and fear not but that your body shall be restored to your\nfriends, and have due funeral honors.\" So saying, he called the\ntimid followers and delivered the body into their hands.\n\nMezentius meanwhile had been borne to the riverside, and washed\nhis wound. Soon the news reached him of Lausus's death, and rage\nand despair supplied the place of strength. He mounted his horse\nand dashed into the thickest of the fight, seeking Aeneas. Having\nfound him, [Footnote: See Proverbial Expressions.] he rode round\nhim in a circle, throwing one javelin after another, while Aeneas\nstood fenced with his shield, turning every way to meet them. At\nlast, after Mezentius had three times made the circuit, Aeneas\nthrew his lance directly at the horse's head. It pierced his\ntemples and he fell, while a shout from both armies rent the\nskies. Mezentius asked no mercy, but only that his body might be\nspared the insults of his revolted subjects, and be buried in the\nsame grave with his son. He received the fatal stroke not\nunprepared, and poured out his life and his blood together.\n\nPALLAS, CAMILLA, TURNUS\n\nWhile these things were doing in one part of the field, in another\nTurnus encountered the youthful Pallas. The contest between\nchampions so unequally matched could not be doubtful. Pallas bore\nhimself bravely, but fell by the lance of Turnus. The victor\nalmost relented when he saw the brave youth lying dead at his\nfeet, and spared to use the privilege of a conqueror in despoiling\nhim of his arms. The belt only, adorned with studs and carvings of\ngold, he took and clasped round his own body. The rest he remitted\nto the friends of the slain.\n\nAfter the battle there was a cessation of arms for some days to\nallow both armies to bury their dead. In this interval Aeneas\nchallenged Turnus to decide the contest by single combat, but\nTurnus evaded the challenge. Another battle ensued, in which\nCamilla, the virgin warrior, was chiefly conspicuous. Her deeds of\nvalor surpassed those of the bravest warriors, and many Trojans\nand Etruscans fell pierced with her darts or struck down by her\nbattle-axe. At last an Etruscan named Aruns, who had watched her\nlong, seeking for some advantage, observed her pursuing a flying\nenemy whose splendid armor offered a tempting prize. Intent on the\nchase she observed not her danger, and the javelin of Aruns struck\nher and inflicted a fatal wound. She fell and breathed her last in\nthe arms of her attendant maidens. But Diana, who beheld her fate,\nsuffered not her slaughter to be unavenged. Aruns, as he stole\naway, glad, but frightened, was struck by a secret arrow, launched\nby one of the nymphs of Diana's train, and died ignobly and\nunknown.\n\nAt length the final conflict took place between Aeneas and Turnus.\nTurnus had avoided the contest as long as he could, but at last,\nimpelled by the ill success of his arms and by the murmurs of his\nfollowers, he braced himself to the conflict. It could not be\ndoubtful. On the side of Aeneas were the expressed decree of\ndestiny, the aid of his goddess-mother at every emergency, and\nimpenetrable armor fabricated by Vulcan, at her request, for her\nson. Turnus, on the other hand, was deserted by his celestial\nallies, Juno having been expressly forbidden by Jupiter to assist\nhim any longer. Turnus threw his lance, but it recoiled harmless\nfrom the shield of Aeneas. The Trojan hero then threw his, which\npenetrated the shield of Turnus, and pierced his thigh. Then\nTurnus's fortitude forsook him and he begged for mercy; and Aeneas\nwould have given him his life, but at the instant his eye fell on\nthe belt of Pallas, which Turnus had taken from the slaughtered\nyouth. Instantly his rage revived, and exclaiming, \"Pallas\nimmolates thee with this blow,\" he thrust him through with his\nsword.\n\nHere the poem of the \"Aeneid\" closes, and we are left to infer\nthat Aeneas, having triumphed over his foes, obtained Lavinia for\nhis bride. Tradition adds that he founded his city, and called it\nafter her name, Lavinium. His son Iulus founded Alba Longa, which\nwas the birthplace of Romulus and Remus and the cradle of Rome\nitself.\n\nThere is an allusion to Camilla in those well-known lines of Pope,\nin which, illustrating the rule that \"the sound should be an echo\nto the sense,\" he says:\n\n   \"When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,\n    The line too labors and the words move slow.\n    Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,\n    Flies o'er th' unbending corn or skims along the main.\"\n\n    --Essay on Criticism.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV\n\nPYTHAGORAS--EGYPTIAN DEITIES--ORACLES\n\nPYTHAGORAS\n\n\nThe teachings of Anchises to Aeneas, respecting the nature of the\nhuman soul, were in conformity with the doctrines of the\nPythagoreans. Pythagoras (born five hundred and forty years B.C.)\nwas a native of the island of Samos, but passed the chief portion\nof his life at Crotona in Italy. He is therefore sometimes called\n\"the Samian,\" and sometimes \"the philosopher of Crotona.\" When\nyoung he travelled extensively, and it is said visited Egypt,\nwhere he was instructed by the priests in all their learning, and\nafterwards journeyed to the East, and visited the Persian and\nChaldean Magi, and the Brahmins of India.\n\nAt Crotona, where he finally established himself, his\nextraordinary qualities collected round him a great number of\ndisciples. The inhabitants were notorious for luxury and\nlicentiousness, but the good effects of his influence were soon\nvisible. Sobriety and temperance succeeded. Six hundred of the\ninhabitants became his disciples and enrolled themselves in a\nsociety to aid each other in the pursuit of wisdom, uniting their\nproperty in one common stock for the benefit of the whole. They\nwere required to practise the greatest purity and simplicity of\nmanners. The first lesson they learned was SILENCE; for a time\nthey were required to be only hearers. \"He [Pythagoras] said so\"\n(Ipse dixit), was to be held by them as sufficient, without any\nproof. It was only the advanced pupils, after years of patient\nsubmission, who were allowed to ask questions and to state\nobjections.\n\nPythagoras considered NUMBERS as the essence and principle of all\nthings, and attributed to them a real and distinct existence; so\nthat, in his view, they were the elements out of which the\nuniverse was constructed. How he conceived this process has never\nbeen satisfactorily explained. He traced the various forms and\nphenomena of the world to numbers as their basis and essence. The\n\"Monad\" or unit he regarded as the source of all numbers. The\nnumber Two was imperfect, and the cause of increase and division.\nThree was called the number of the whole because it had a\nbeginning, middle, and end. Four, representing the square, is in\nthe highest degree perfect; and Ten, as it contains the sum of the\nfour prime numbers, comprehends all musical and arithmetical\nproportions, and denotes the system of the world.\n\nAs the numbers proceed from the monad, so he regarded the pure and\nsimple essence of the Deity as the source of all the forms of\nnature. Gods, demons, and heroes are emanations of the Supreme,\nand there is a fourth emanation, the human soul. This is immortal,\nand when freed from the fetters of the body passes to the\nhabitation of the dead, where it remains till it returns to the\nworld, to dwell in some other human or animal body, and at last,\nwhen sufficiently purified, it returns to the source from which it\nproceeded. This doctrine of the transmigration of souls\n(metempsychosis), which was originally Egyptian and connected with\nthe doctrine of reward and punishment of human actions, was the\nchief cause why the Pythagoreans killed no animals. Ovid\nrepresents Pythagoras addressing his disciples in these words:\n\"Souls never die, but always on quitting one abode pass to\nanother. I myself can remember that in the time of the Trojan war\nI was Euphorbus, the son of Panthus, and fell by the spear of\nMenelaus. Lately being in the temple of Juno, at Argos, I\nrecognized my shield hung up there among the trophies. All things\nchange, nothing perishes. The soul passes hither and thither,\noccupying now this body, now that, passing from the body of a\nbeast into that of a man, and thence to a beast's again. As wax is\nstamped with certain figures, then melted, then stamped anew with\nothers, yet is always the same wax, so the soul, being always the\nsame, yet wears, at different times, different forms. Therefore,\nif the love of kindred is not extinct in your bosoms, forbear, I\nentreat you, to violate the life of those who may haply be your\nown relatives.\"\n\nShakspeare, in the \"Merchant of Venice,\" makes Gratiano allude to\nthe metempsychosis, where he says to Shylock:\n\n   \"Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,\n    To hold opinion with Pythagoras,\n    That souls of animals infuse themselves\n    Into the trunks of men; thy currish spirit\n    Governed a wolf; who hanged for human slaughter\n    Infused his soul in thee; for thy desires\n    Are wolfish, bloody, starved and ravenous.\"\n\nThe relation of the notes of the musical scale to numbers, whereby\nharmony results from vibrations in equal times, and discord from\nthe reverse, led Pythagoras to apply the word \"harmony\" to the\nvisible creation, meaning by it the just adaptation of parts to\neach other. This is the idea which Dryden expresses in the\nbeginning of his \"Song for St. Cecilia's Day\":\n\n   \"From harmony, from heavenly harmony\n    This everlasting frame began;\n    From harmony to harmony\n    Through all the compass of the notes it ran,\n    The Diapason closing full in Man.\"\n\nIn the centre of the universe (he taught) there was a central\nfire, the principle of life. The central fire was surrounded by\nthe earth, the moon, the sun, and the five planets. The distances\nof the various heavenly bodies from one another were conceived to\ncorrespond to the proportions of the musical scale. The heavenly\nbodies, with the gods who inhabited them, were supposed to perform\na choral dance round the central fire, \"not without song.\" It is\nthis doctrine which Shakspeare alludes to when he makes Lorenzo\nteach astronomy to Jessica in this fashion:\n\n   \"Look, Jessica, see how the floor of heaven\n    Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold!\n    There's not the smallest orb that thou behold'st\n    But in his motion like an angel sings,\n    Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim;\n    Such harmony is in immortal souls!\n    But whilst this muddy vesture of decay\n    Doth grossly close it in we cannot hear it.\"\n\n    --Merchant of Venice.\n\nThe spheres were conceived to be crystalline or glassy fabrics\narranged over one another like a nest of bowls reversed. In the\nsubstance of each sphere one or more of the heavenly bodies was\nsupposed to be fixed, so as to move with it. As the spheres are\ntransparent we look through them and see the heavenly bodies which\nthey contain and carry round with them. But as these spheres\ncannot move on one another without friction, a sound is thereby\nproduced which is of exquisite harmony, too fine for mortal ears\nto recognize. Milton, in his \"Hymn on the Nativity,\" thus alludes\nto the music of the spheres:\n\n   \"Ring out, ye crystal spheres!\n    Once bless our human ears\n      (If ye have power to charm our senses so);\n    And let your silver chime\n    Move in melodious time,\n      And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow;\n    And with your ninefold harmony\n    Make up full concert with the angelic symphony.\"\n\nPythagoras is said to have invented the lyre. Our own poet\nLongfellow, in \"Verses to a Child,\" thus relates the story:\n\n   \"As great Pythagoras of yore,\n    Standing beside the blacksmith's door,\n    And hearing the hammers as they smote\n    The anvils with a different note,\n    Stole from the varying tones that hung\n    Vibrant on every iron tongue,\n    The secret of the sounding wire,\n    And formed the seven-chorded lyre.\"\n\nSee also the same poet's \"Occupation of Orion\"--\n\n   \"The Samian's great Aeolian lyre.\"\n\nSYBARIS AND CROTONA\n\nSybaris, a neighboring city to Crotona, was as celebrated for\nluxury and effeminacy as Crotona for the reverse. The name has\nbecome proverbial. J. R. Lowell uses it in this sense in his\ncharming little poem \"To the Dandelion\":\n\n   \"Not in mid June the golden cuirassed bee\n    Feels a more summer-like, warm ravishment\n      In the white lily's breezy tent\n    (His conquered Sybaris) than I when first\n    From the dark green thy yellow circles burst.\"\n\nA war arose between the two cities, and Sybaris was conquered and\ndestroyed. Milo, the celebrated athlete, led the army of Crotona.\nMany stories are told of Milo's vast strength, such as his\ncarrying a heifer of four years old upon his shoulders and\nafterwards eating the whole of it in a single day. The mode of his\ndeath is thus related: As he was passing through a forest he saw\nthe trunk of a tree which had been partially split open by wood-\ncutters, and attempted to rend it further; but the wood closed\nupon his hands and held him fast, in which state he was attacked\nand devoured by wolves.\n\nByron, in his \"Ode to Napoleon Bonaparte,\" alludes to the story of\nMilo:\n\n   \"He who of old would rend the oak\n      Deemed not of the rebound;\n    Chained by the trunk he vainly broke,\n      Alone, how looked he round!\"\n\nEGYPTIAN DEITIES\n\nThe Egyptians acknowledged as the highest deity Amun, afterwards\ncalled Zeus, or Jupiter Ammon. Amun manifested himself in his word\nor will, which created Kneph and Athor, of different sexes. From\nKneph and Athor proceeded Osiris and Isis. Osiris was worshipped\nas the god of the sun, the source of warmth, life, and\nfruitfulness, in addition to which he was also regarded as the god\nof the Nile, who annually visited his wife, Isis (the Earth), by\nmeans of an inundation. Serapis or Hermes is sometimes represented\nas identical with Osiris, and sometimes as a distinct divinity,\nthe ruler of Tartarus and god of medicine. Anubis is the guardian\ngod, represented with a dog's head, emblematic of his character of\nfidelity and watchfulness. Horus or Harpocrates was the son of\nOsiris. He is represented seated on a Lotus flower, with his\nfinger on his lips, as the god of Silence.\n\nIn one of Moore's \"Irish Melodies\" is an allusion to Harpocrates:\n\n   \"Thyself shall, under some rosy bower,\n      Sit mute, with thy finger on thy lip;\n    Like him, the boy, who born among\n      The flowers that on the Nile-stream blush,\n    Sits ever thus,--his only song\n      To Earth and Heaven, 'Hush all, hush!'\"\n\nMYTH OF OSIRIS AND ISIS\n\nOsiris and Isis were at one time induced to descend to the earth\nto bestow gifts and blessings on its inhabitants. Isis showed them\nfirst the use of wheat and barley, and Osiris made the instruments\nof agriculture and taught men the use of them, as well as how to\nharness the ox to the plough. He then gave men laws, the\ninstitution of marriage, a civil organization, and taught them how\nto worship the gods. After he had thus made the valley of the Nile\na happy country, he assembled a host with which he went to bestow\nhis blessings upon the rest of the world. He conquered the nations\neverywhere, but not with weapons, only with music and eloquence.\nHis brother Typhon saw this, and filled with envy and malice\nsought during his absence to usurp his throne. But Isis, who held\nthe reins of government, frustrated his plans. Still more\nembittered, he now resolved to kill his brother. This he did in\nthe following manner: Having organized a conspiracy of seventy-two\nmembers, he went with them to the feast which was celebrated in\nhonor of the king's return. He then caused a box or chest to be\nbrought in, which had been made to fit exactly the size of Osiris,\nand declared that he wouldd would give that chest of precious wood\nto whosoever could get into it. The rest tried in vain, but no\nsooner was Osiris in it than Typhon and his companions closed the\nlid and flung the chest into the Nile. When Isis heard of the\ncruel murder she wept and mourned, and then with her hair shorn,\nclothed in black and beating her breast, she sought diligently for\nthe body of her husband. In this search she was materially\nassisted by Anubis, the son of Osiris and Nephthys. They sought in\nvain for some time; for when the chest, carried by the waves to\nthe shores of Byblos, had become entangled in the reeds that grew\nat the edge of the water, the divine power that dwelt in the body\nof Osiris imparted such strength to the shrub that it grew into a\nmighty tree, enclosing in its trunk the coffin of the god. This\ntree with its sacred deposit was shortly after felled, and erected\nas a column in the palace of the king of Phoenicia. But at length\nby the aid of Anubis and the sacred birds, Isis ascertained these\nfacts, and then went to the royal city. There she offered herself\nat the palace as a servant, and being admitted, threw off her\ndisguise and appeared as a goddess, surrounded with thunder and\nlightning. Striking the column with her wand she caused it to\nsplit open and give up the sacred coffin. This she seized and\nreturned with it, and concealed it in the depth of a forest, but\nTyphon discovered it, and cutting the body into fourteen pieces\nscattered them hither and thither. After a tedious search, Isis\nfound thirteen pieces, the fishes of the Nile having eaten the\nother. This she replaced by an imitation of sycamore wood, and\nburied the body at Philae, which became ever after the great\nburying place of the nation, and the spot to which pilgrimages\nwere made from all parts of the country. A temple of surpassing\nmagnificence was also erected there in honor of the god, and at\nevery place where one of his limbs had been found minor temples\nand tombs were built to commemorate the event. Osiris became after\nthat the tutelar deity of the Egyptians. His soul was supposed\nalways to inhabit the body of the bull Apis, and at his death to\ntransfer itself to his successor.\n\nApis, the Bull of Memphis, was worshipped with the greatest\nreverence by the Egyptians. The individual animal who was held to\nbe Apis was recognized by certain signs. It was requisite that he\nshould be quite black, have a white square mark on the forehead,\nanother, in the form of an eagle, on his back, and under his\ntongue a lump somewhat in the shape of a scarabaeus or beetle. As\nsoon as a bull thus marked was found by those sent in search of\nhim, he was placed in a building facing the east, and was fed with\nmilk for four months. At the expiration of this term the priests\nrepaired at new moon, with great pomp, to his habitation and\nsaluted him Apis. He was placed in a vessel magnificently\ndecorated and conveyed down the Nile to Memphis, where a temple,\nwith two chapels and a court for exercise, was assigned to him.\nSacrifices were made to him, and once every year, about the time\nwhen the Nile began to rise, a golden cup was thrown into the\nriver, and a grand festival was held to celebrate his birthday.\nThe people believed that during this festival the crocodiles\nforgot their natural ferocity and became harmless. There was,\nhowever, one drawback to his happy lot: he was not permitted to\nlive beyond a certain period, and if, when he had attained the age\nof twenty-five years, he still survived, the priests drowned him\nin the sacred cistern and then buried him in the temple of\nSerapis. On the death of this bull, whether it occurred in the\ncourse of nature or by violence, the whole land was filled with\nsorrow and lamentations, which lasted until his successor was\nfound.\n\nWe find the following item in one of the newspapers of the day:\n\n\"The Tomb of Apis.--The excavations going on at Memphis bid fair\nto make that buried city as interesting as Pompeii. The monster\ntomb of Apis is now open, after having lain unknown for\ncenturies.\"\n\nMilton, in his \"Hymn on the Nativity,\" alludes to the Egyptian\ndeities, not as imaginary beings, but as real demons, put to\nflight by the coming of Christ.\n\n    \"The brutish god of Nile as fast,\n    Isis and Horus and the dog Anubis haste.\n         Nor is Osiris seen\n         In Memphian grove or green\n    Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud;\n         Nor can he be at rest\n         Within his sacred chest;\n    Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud.\n       In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark\n    The sable-stole sorcerers bear his worshipped ark.\"\n\n[Footnote: There being no rain in Egypt, the grass is\n\"unshowered,\" and the country depend for its fertility upon the\noverflowings of the Nile. The ark alluded to in the last line is\nshown by pictures still remaining on the walls of the Egyptian\ntemples to have been borne by the priests in their religious\nprocessions. It probably represented the chest in which Osiris was\nplaced.]\n\nIsis was represented in statuary with the head veiled, a symbol of\nmystery. It is this which Tennyson alludes to in \"Maud,\" IV., 8:\n\n\"For the drift of the Maker is dark, an Isis hid by the veil,\"\netc.\n\nORACLES Oracle was the name used to denote the place where answers\nwere supposed to be given by any of the divinities to those who\nconsulted them respecting the future. The word was also used to\nsignify the response which was given.\n\nThe most ancient Grecian oracle was that of Jupiter at Dodona.\nAccording to one account, it was established in the following\nmanner: Two black doves took their flight from Thebes in Egypt.\nOne flew to Dodona in Epirus, and alighting in a grove of oaks, it\nproclaimed in human language to the inhabitants of the district\nthat they must establish there an oracle of Jupiter. The other\ndove flew to the temple of Jupiter Ammon in the Libyan Oasis, and\ndelivered a similar command there. Another account is, that they\nwere not doves, but priestesses, who were carried off from Thebes\nin Egypt by the Phoenicians, and set up oracles at the Oasis and\nDodona. The responses of the oracle were given from the trees, by\nthe branches rustling in the wind, the sounds being interpreted by\nthe priests.\n\nBut the most celebrated of the Grecian oracles was that of Apollo\nat Delphi, a city built on the slopes of Parnassus in Phocis.\n\nIt had been observed at a very early period that the goats feeding\non Parnassus were thrown into convulsions when they approached a\ncertain long deep cleft in the side of the mountain. This was\nowing to a peculiar vapor arising out of the cavern, and one of\nthe goatherds was induced to try its effects upon himself.\nInhaling the intoxicating air, he was affected in the same manner\nas the cattle had been, and the inhabitants of the surrounding\ncountry, unable to explain the circumstance, imputed the\nconvulsive ravings to which he gave utterance while under the\npower of the exhalations to a divine inspiration. The fact was\nspeedily circulated widely, and a temple was erected on the spot.\nThe prophetic influence was at first variously attributed to the\ngoddess Earth, to Neptune, Themis, and others, but it was at\nlength assigned to Apollo, and to him alone. A priestess was\nappointed whose office it was to inhale the hallowed air, and who\nwas named the Pythia. She was prepared for this duty by previous\nablution at the fountain of Castalia, and being crowned with\nlaurel was seated upon a tripod similarly adorned, which was\nplaced over the chasm whence the divine afflatus proceeded. Her\ninspired words while thus situated were interpreted by the\npriests.\n\nORACLE OF TROPHONIUS\n\nBesides the oracles of Jupiter and Apollo, at Dodona and Delphi,\nthat of Trophonius in Boeotia was held in high estimation.\nTrophonius and Agamedes were brothers. They were distinguished\narchitects, and built the temple of Apollo at Delphi, and a\ntreasury for King Hyrieus. In the wall of the treasury they placed\na stone, in such a manner that it could be taken out; and by this\nmeans, from time to time, purloined the treasure. This amazed\nHyrieus, for his locks and seals were untouched, and yet his\nwealth continually diminished. At length he set a trap for the\nthief and Agamedes was caught. Trophonias, unable to extricate\nhim, and fearing that when found he would be compelled by torture\nto discover his accomplice, cut off his head. Trophonius himself\nis said to have been shortly afterwards swallowed up by the earth.\n\nThe oracle of Trophonius was at Lebadea in Boeotia. During a great\ndrought the Boeotians, it is said, were directed by the god at\nDelphi to seek aid of Trophonius at Lebadea. They came thither,\nbut could find no oracle. One of them, however, happening to see a\nswarm of bees, followed them to a chasm in the earth, which proved\nto be the place sought.\n\nPeculiar ceremonies were to be performed by the person who came to\nconsult the oracle. After these preliminaries, he descended into\nthe cave by a narrow passage. This place could be entered only in\nthe night. The person returned from the cave by the same narrow\npassage, but walking backwards. He appeared melancholy and\ndefected; and hence the proverb which was applied to a person low-\nspirited and gloomy, \"He has been consulting the oracle of\nTrophonius.\"\n\nORACLE OF AESCULAPIUS\n\nThere were numerous oracles of Aesculapius, but the most\ncelebrated one was at Epidaurus. Here the sick sought responses\nand the recovery of their health by sleeping in the temple. It has\nbeen inferred from the accounts that have come down to us that the\ntreatment of the sick resembled what is now called Animal\nMagnetism or Mesmerism.\n\nSerpents 'were sacred to Aesculapius, probably because of a\nsuperstition that those animals have a faculty of renewing their\nyouth by a change of skin. The worship of Aesculapius was\nintroduced into Rome in a time of great sickness, and an embassy\nsent to the temple of Epidaurus to entreat the aid of the god.\nAesculapius was propitious, and on the return of the ship\naccompanied it in the form of a serpent. Arriving in the river\nTiber, the serpent glided from the vessel and took possession of\nan island in the river, and a temple was there erected to his\nhonor.\n\nORACLE OF APIS\n\nAt Memphis the sacred bull Apis gave answer to those who consulted\nhim by the manner in which he received or rejected what was\npresented to him. If the bull refused food from the hand of the\ninquirer it was considered an unfavorable sign, and the contrary\nwhen he received it.\n\nIt has been a question whether oracular responses ought to be\nascribed to mere human contrivance or to the agency of evil\nspirits. The latter opinion has been most general in past ages. A\nthird theory has been advanced since the phenomena of Mesmerism\nhave attracted attention, that something like the mesmeric trance\nwas induced in the Pythoness, and the faculty of clairvoyance\nreally called into action.\n\nAnother question is as to the time when the Pagan oracles ceased\nto give responses. Ancient Christian writers assert that they\nbecame silent at the birth of Christ, and were heard no more after\nthat date. Milton adopts this view in his \"Hymn of the Nativity,\"\nand in lines of solemn and elevated beauty pictures the\nconsternation of the heathen idols at the Advent of the Saviour:\n\n    \"The oracles are dumb;\n    No voice or hideous hum\n     Rings through the arched roof in words Deceiving.\n    Apollo from his shrine\n    Can no more divine,\n      With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos heaving.\n    No nightly trance or breathed spell\n    Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell\"\n\nIn Cowper's poem of \"Yardley Oak\" there are some beautiful\nmythological allusions. The former of the two following is to the\nfable of Castor and Pollux; the latter is more appropriate to our\npresent subject. Addressing the acorn he says:\n\n   \"Thou fell'st mature; and in the loamy clod,\n    Swelling with vegetative force instinct,\n    Didst burst thine, as theirs the fabled Twins\n    Now stars; twor lobes protruding, paired exact;\n    A leaf succeede and another leaf,\n    And, all the elements thy puny growth\n    Fostering propitious, thou becam'st a twig.\n    Who lived  when thou wast such? Of couldst thou speak,\n    As in Dodona once thy kindred trees\n    Oracular, I would not curious ask\n    The future, best unknown, but at thy mouth\n    Inquisitive, the less ambiguous past.\"\n\nTennyson, in his \"Talking Oak,\" alludes to the oaks of Dodona in\nthese lines:\n\n    And I will work in prose and rhyme,\n     And praise thee more in both\n    Than bard has honored beech or lime,\n     Or that Thessalian growth\n    In which the swarthy ring-dove sat\n     And mystic sentence spoke; etc.\n\nByron alludes to the oracle of Delphi where, speaking of Rousseau,\nwhose writings he conceives did much to bring on the French\nrevolution, he says:\n\n    \"For the, he was inspired, and from him came,\n       As from the Pythian's mystic cave of yore,\n    Those oracles which set the world in flame,\n       Nor ceased to burn till kingdoms were no more.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV\n\nORIGIN OF MYTHOLOGY--STATUES OF GODS AND GODDESSES--POETS OF\nMYTHOLOGY\n\nORIGINS OF MYTHOLOGY\n\n\nHaving reached the close of our series of stories of Pagan\nmythology, and inquiry suggests itself. \"Whence came these\nstories? Have they a foundation in truth or are they simply dreams\nof the imagination?\" Philosophers have suggested various theories\non the subject; and 1. The Scriptural theory; according to which\nall mythological legends are derived from the narratives of\nScripture, though the real facts have been disguised and altered.\nThus Deucalion is only another name for Noah, Hercules for Samson,\nArion for Jonah, etc. Sir Walter Raleigh, in his \"History of the\nWorld,\" says, \"Jubal, Tubal, and Tubal-Cain were Mercury, Vulcan,\nand Apollo, inventors of Pasturage, Smithing, and Music. The\nDragon which kept the golden apples was the serpent that beguiled\nEve. Nimrod's tower was the attempt of the Giants against Heaven.\"\nThere are doubtless many curious coincidences like these, but the\ntheory cannot without extravagance be pushed so far as to account\nfor any great proportion of the stories.\n\n2. The Historical theory; according to which all the persons\nmentioned in mythology were once real human beings, and the\nlegends and fabulous traditions relating to them are merely the\nadditions and embellishments of later times. Thus the story of\nAeolus, the king and god of the winds, is supposed to have risen\nfrom the fact that Aeolus was the ruler of some islands in the\nTyrrhenian Sea, where he reigned as a just and pious king, and\ntaught the natives the use of sails for ships, and how to tell\nfrom the signs of the atmosphere the changes of the weather and\nthe winds. Cadmus, who, the legend says, sowed the earth with\ndragon's teeth, from which sprang a crop of armed men, was in fact\nan emigrant from Phoenicia, and brought with him into Greece the\nknowledge of the letters of the alphabet, which he taught to the\nnatives. From these rudiments of learning sprung civilization,\nwhich the poets have always been prone to describe as a\ndeterioration of man's first estate, the Golden Age of innocence\nand simplicity.\n\n3. The Allegorical theory supposes that all the myths of the\nancients were allegorical and symbolical, and contained some\nmoral, religious, or philosophical truth or historical fact, under\nthe form of an allegory, but came in process of time to be\nunderstood literally. Thus Saturn, who devours his own children,\nis the same power whom the Greeks called Cronos (Time), which may\ntruly be said to destroy whatever it has brought into existence.\nThe story of Io is interpreted in a similar manner. Io is the\nmoon, and Argus the starry sky, which, as it were, keeps sleepless\nwatch over her. The fabulous wanderings of Io represent the\ncontinual revolutions of the moon, which also suggested to Milton\nthe same idea.\n\n   \"To behold the wandering moon\n    Riding near her highest noon,\n    Like one that had been led astray\n    In the heaven's wide, pathless way.\"\n\n    --Il Penseroso.\n\n4. The Physical theory; according to which the elements of air,\nfire, and water were originally the objects of religious\nadoration, and the principal deities were personifications of the\npowers of nature. The transition was easy from a personification\nof the elements to the notion of supernatural beings presiding\nover and governing the different objects of nature. The Greeks,\nwhose imagination was lively, peopled all nature with invisible\nbeings, and supposed that every object, from the sun and sea to\nthe smallest fountain and rivulet, was under the care of some\nparticular divinity. Wordsworth, in his \"Excursion,\" has\nbeautifully developed this view of Grecian mythology:\n\n   \"In that fair clime the lonely herdsman, stretched\n    On the soft grass through half a summer's day,\n    With music lulled his indolent repose;\n    And, in some fit of weariness, if he,\n    When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear\n    A distant strain far sweeter than the sounds\n    Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetched\n    Even from the blazing chariot of the Sun\n    A beardless youth who touched a golden lute,\n    And filled the illumined groves with ravishment.\n    The mighty hunter, lifting up his eyes\n    Toward the crescent Moon, with grateful heart\n    Called on the lovely Wanderer who bestowed\n    That timely light to share his joyous sport;\n    And hence a beaming goddess with her nymphs\n    Across the lawn and through the darksome grove\n    (Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes\n    By echo multiplied from rock or cave)\n    Swept in the storm of chase, as moon and stars\n    Glance rapidly along the clouded heaven\n    When winds are blowing strong. The Traveller slaked\n    His thirst from rill or gushing fount, and thanked\n    The Naiad. Sunbeams upon distant hills\n    Gliding apace with shadows in their train,\n    Might with small help from fancy, be transformed\n    Into fleet Oreads sporting visibly.\n    The Zephyrs, fanning, as they passed, their wings,\n    Lacked not for love fair objects whom they wooed\n    With gentle whisper. Withered boughs grotesque,\n    Stripped of their leaves and twigs by hoary age,\n    From depth of shaggy covert peeping forth\n    In the low vale, or on steep mountain side;\n    And sometimes intermixed with stirring horns\n    Of the live deer, or goat's depending beard;\n    These were the lurking Satyrs, wild brood\n    Of gamesome deities; or Pan himself,\n    That simple shepherd's awe-inspiring god.\"\n\nAll the theories which have been mentioned are true to a certain\nextent. It would therefore be more correct to say that the\nmythology of a nation has sprung from all these sources combined\nthan from any one in particular. We may add also that there are\nmany myths which have arisen from the desire of man to account for\nthose natural phenomena which he cannot understand; and not a few\nhave had their rise from a similar desire of giving a reason for\nthe names of places and persons.\n\nSTATUES OF THE GODS\n\nTo adequately represent to the eye the ideas intended to be\nconveyed to the mind under the several names of deities was a task\nwhich called into exercise the highest powers of genius and art.\nOf the many attempts FOUR have been most celebrated, the first two\nknown to us only by the descriptions of the ancients, the others\nstill extant and the acknowledged masterpieces of the sculptor's\nart.\n\nTHE OLYMPIAN JUPITER\n\nThe statue of the Olympian Jupiter by Phidias was considered the\nhighest achievement of this department of Grecian art. It was of\ncolossal dimensions, and was what the ancients called\n\"chryselephantine;\" that is, composed of ivory and gold; the parts\nrepresenting flesh being of ivory laid on a core of wood or stone,\nwhile the drapery and other ornaments were of gold. The height of\nthe figure was forty feet, on a pedestal twelve feet high. The god\nwas represented seated on his throne. His brows were crowned with\na wreath of olive, and he held in his right hand a sceptre, and in\nhis left a statue of Victory. The throne was of cedar, adorned\nwith gold and precious stones.\n\nThe idea which the artist essayed to embody was that of the\nsupreme deity of the Hellenic (Grecian) nation, enthroned as a\nconqueror, in perfect majesty and repose, and ruling with a nod\nthe subject world. Phidias avowed that he took his idea from the\nrepresentation which Homer gives in the first book of the \"Iliad,\"\nin the passage thus translated by Pope:\n\n   \"He spoke and awful bends his sable brows,\n    Shakes his ambrosial curls and gives the nod,\n    The stamp of fate and sanction of the god.\n    High heaven with reverence the dread signal took,\n    And all Olympus to the centre shook.\"\n\n[Footnote: Cowper's version is less elegant, but truer to the\noriginal:\n\n   \"He ceased, and under his dark brows the nod\n    Vouchsafed of confirmation. All around\n    The sovereign's everlasting head his curls\n    Ambrosial shook, and the huge mountain reeled.\"\n\nIt may interest our readers to see how this passage appears in\nanother famous version, that which was issued under the name of\nTickell, contemporaneously with Pope's, and which, being by many\nattributed to Addison, led to the quarrel which ensued between\nAddison and Pope:\n\n   \"This said, his kingly brow the sire inclined;\n    The large black curls fell awful from behind,\n    Thick shadowing the stern forehead of the god;\n    Olympus trembled at the almighty nod.\"]\n\nTHE MINERVA OF THE PARTHENON\n\nThis was also the work of Phidias. It stood in the Parthenon, or\ntemple of Minerva at Athens. The goddess was represented standing.\nIn one hand she held a spear, in the other a statue of Victory.\nHer helmet, highly decorated, was surmounted by a Sphinx. The\nstatue was forty feet in height, and, like the Jupiter, composed\nof ivory and gold. The eyes were of marble, and probably painted\nto represent the iris and pupil. The Parthenon, in which this\nstatue stood, was also constructed under the direction and\nsuperintendence of Phidias. Its exterior was enriched with\nsculptures, many of them from the hand of Phidias. The Elgin\nmarbles, now in the British Museum, are a part of them.\n\nBoth the Jupiter and Minerva of Phidias are lost, but there is\ngood ground to believe that we have, in several extant statues and\nbusts, the artist's conceptions of the countenances of both. They\nare characterized by grave and dignified beauty, and freedom from\nany transient expression, which in the language of art is called\nrepose.\n\nTHE VENUS DE' MEDICI\n\nThe Venus of the Medici is so called from its having been in the\npossession of the princes of that name in Rome when it first\nattracted attention, about two hundred years ago. An inscription\non the base records it to be the work of Cleomenes, an Athenian\nsculptor of 200 B.C., but the authenticity of the inscription is\ndoubtful. There is a story that the artist was employed by public\nauthority to make a statue exhibiting the perfection of female\nbeauty, and to aid him in his task the most perfect forms the city\ncould supply were furnished him for models. It is this which\nThomson alludes to in his \"Summer\":\n\n   \"So stands the statue that enchants the world;\n    So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,\n    The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.\"\n\nByron also alludes to this statue. Speaking of the Florence\nMuseum, he says:\n\n   \"There, too, the goddess loves in stone, and fills\n    The air around with beauty;\" etc.\n\nAnd in the next stanza,\n\n   \"Blood, pulse, and breast confirm the Dardan shepherd's prize.\"\n\nSee this last allusion explained in Chapter XXVII.\n\nTHE APOLLO BELVEDERE\n\nThe most highly esteemed of all the remains of ancient sculpture\nis the statue of Apollo, called the Belvedere, from the name of\nthe apartment of the Pope's palace at Rome in which it was placed.\nThe artist is unknown. It is supposed to be a work of Roman art,\nof about the first century of our era. It is a standing figure, in\nmarble, more than seven feet high, naked except for the cloak\nwhich is fastened around the neck and hangs over the extended left\narm. It is supposed to represent the god in the moment when he has\nshot the arrow to destroy the monster Python. (See Chapter III.)\nThe victorious divinity is in the act of stepping forward. The\nleft arm, which seems to have held the bow, is outstretched, and\nthe head is turned in the same direction. In attitude and\nproportion the graceful majesty of the figure is unsurpassed. The\neffect is completed by the countenance, where on the perfection of\nyouthful godlike beauty there dwells the consciousness of\ntriumphant power.\n\nTHE DIANA A LA BICHE\n\nThe Diana of the Hind, in the palace of the Louvre, may be\nconsidered the counterpart to the Apollo Belvedere. The attitude\nmuch resembles that of the Apollo, the sizes correspond and also\nthe style of execution. It is a work of the highest order, though\nby no means equal to the Apollo. The attitude is that of hurried\nand eager motion, the face that of a huntress in the excitement of\nthe chase. The left hand is extended over the forehead of the\nHind, which runs by her side, the right arm reaches backward over\nthe shoulder to draw an arrow from the quiver.\n\nTHE POETS OF MYTHOLOGY\n\nHomer, from whose poems of the \"Iliad\" and \"Odyssey\" we have taken\nthe chief part of our chapters of the Trojan war and the return of\nthe Grecians, is almost as mythical a personage as the heroes he\ncelebrates. The traditionary story is that he was a wandering\nminstrel, blind and old, who travelled from place to place singing\nhis lays to the music of his harp, in the courts of princes or the\ncottages of peasants, and dependent upon the voluntary offerings\nof his hearers for support. Byron calls him \"The blind old man of\nScio's rocky isle,\" and a well-known epigram, alluding to the\nuncertainty of the fact of his birthplace, says:\n\n   \"Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead,\n    Through which the living Homer begged his bread.\"\n\nThese seven were Smyrna, Scio, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis, Argos,\nand Athens.\n\nModern scholars have doubted whether the Homeric poems are the\nwork of any single mind. This arises from the difficulty of\nbelieving that poems of such length could have been committed to\nwriting at so early an age as that usually assigned to these, an\nage earlier than the date of any remaining inscriptions or coins,\nand when no materials capable of containing such long productions\nwere yet introduced into use. On the other hand it is asked how\npoems of such length could have been handed down from age to age\nby means of the memory alone. This is answered by the statement\nthat there was a professional body of men, called Rhapsodists, who\nrecited the poems of others, and whose business it was to commit\nto memory and rehearse for pay the national and patriotic legends.\n\nThe prevailing opinion of the learned, at this time, seems to be\nthat the framework and much of the structure of the poems belong\nto Homer, but that there are numerous interpolations and additions\nby other hands.\n\nThe date assigned to Homer, on the authority of Herodotus, is 850\nB.C.\n\nVIRGIL\n\nVirgil, called also by his surname, Maro, from whose poem of the\n\"Aeneid\" we have taken the story of Aeneas, was one of the great\npoets who made the reign of the Roman emperor Augustus so\ncelebrated, under the name of the Augustan age. Virgil was born in\nMantua in the year 70 B.C. His great poem is ranked next to those\nof Homer, in the highest class of poetical composition, the Epic.\nVirgil is far inferior to Homer in originality and invention, but\nsuperior to him in correctness and elegance. To critics of English\nlineage Milton alone of modern poets seems worthy to be classed\nwith these illustrious ancients. His poem of \"Paradise Lost,\" from\nwhich we have borrowed so many illustrations, is in many respects\nequal, in some superior, to either of the great works of\nantiquity. The following epigram of Dryden characterizes the three\npoets with as much truth as it is usual to find in such pointed\ncriticism:\n\n   \"ON MILTON\n\n   \"Three poets in three different ages born,\n    Greece, Italy, and England did adorn\n    The first in loftiness of soul surpassed,\n    The next in majesty, in both the last.\n    The force of nature could no further go;\n    To make a third she joined the other two.\"\n\nFrom Cowper's \"Table Talk\":\n\n   \"Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appeared,\n    And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard.\n    To carry nature lengths unknown before,\n    To give a Milton birth, asked ages more.\n    Thus genius rose and set at ordered times,\n    And shot a dayspring into distant climes,\n    Ennobling every region that he chose;\n    He sunk in Greece, in Italy he rose,\n    And, tedious years of Gothic darkness past,\n    Emerged all splendor in our isle at last.\n    Thus lovely Halcyons dive into the main,\n    Then show far off their shining plumes again.\"\n\nOVID\n\nOvid, often alluded to in poetry by his other name of Naso, was\nborn in the year 43 B.C. He was educated for public life and held\nsome offices of considerable dignity, but poetry was his delight,\nand he early resolved to devote himself to it. He accordingly\nsought the society of the contemporary poets, and was acquainted\nwith Horace and saw Virgil, though the latter died when Ovid was\nyet too young and undistinguished to have formed his acquaintance.\nOvid spent an easy life at Rome in the enjoyment of a competent\nincome. He was intimate with the family of Augustus, the emperor,\nand it is supposed that some serious offence given to some member\nof that family was the cause of an event which reversed the poet's\nhappy circumstances and clouded all the latter portion of his\nlife. At the age of fifty he was banished from Rome, and ordered\nto betake himself to Tomi, on the borders of the Black Sea. Here,\namong the barbarous people and in a severe climate, the poet, who\nhad been accustomed to all the pleasures of a luxurious capital\nand the society of his most distinguished contemporaries, spent\nthe last ten years of his life, worn out with grief and anxiety.\nHis only consolation in exile was to address his wife and absent\nfriends, and his letters were all poetical. Though these poems\n(the \"Trista\" and \"Letters from Pontus\") have no other topic than\nthe poet's sorrows, his exquisite taste and fruitful invention\nhave redeemed them from the charge of being tedious, and they are\nread with pleasure and even with sympathy.\n\nThe two great works of Ovid are his \"Metamorphoses\" and his\n\"Fasti.\" They are both mythological poems, and from the former we\nhave taken most of our stories of Grecian and Roman mythology. A\nlate writer thus characterizes these poems:\n\n\"The rich mythology of Greece furnished Ovid, as it may still\nfurnish the poet, the painter, and the sculptor, with materials\nfor his art. With exquisite taste, simplicity, and pathos he has\nnarrated the fabulous traditions of early ages, and given to them\nthat appearance of reality which only a master hand could impart.\nHis pictures of nature are striking and true; he selects with care\nthat which is appropriate; he rejects the superfluous; and when he\nhas completed his work, it is neither defective nor redundant. The\n'Metamorphoses' are read with pleasure by youth, and are re-read\nin more advanced age with still greater delight. The poet ventured\nto predict that his poem would survive him, and be read wherever\nthe Roman name was known.\"\n\nThe prediction above alluded to is contained in the closing lines\nof the \"Metamorphoses,\" of which we give a literal translation\nbelow:\n\n   \"And now I close my work, which not the ire\n    Of Jove, nor tooth of time, nor sword, nor fire\n    Shall bring to nought. Come when it will that day\n    Which o'er the body, not the mind, has sway,\n    And snatch the remnant of my life away,\n    My better part above the stars shall soar,\n    And my renown endure forevermore.\n    Where'er the Roman arms and arts shall spread\n    There by the people shall my book be read;\n    And, if aught true in poet's visions be,\n    My name and fame have immortality.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI\n\nMODERN MONSTERS--THE PHOENIX--BASILISK--UNICORN--SALAMANDER\n\nMODERN MONSTERS\n\n\nThere is a set of imaginary beings which seem to have been the\nsuccessors of the \"Gorgons, Hydras, and Chimeras dire\" of the old\nsuperstitions, and, having no connection with the false gods of\nPaganism, to have continued to enjoy an existence in the popular\nbelief after Paganism was superseded by Christianity. They are\nmentioned perhaps by the classical writers, but their chief\npopularity and currency seem to have been in more modern times. We\nseek our accounts of them not so much in the poetry of the\nancients as in the old natural history books and narrations of\ntravellers. The accounts which we are about to give are taken\nchiefly from the Penny Cyclopedia.\n\nTHE PHOENIX\n\nOvid tells the story of the Phoenix as follows: \"Most beings\nspring from other individuals; but there is a certain kind which\nreproduces itself. The Assyrians call it the Phoenix. It does not\nlive on fruit or flowers, but on frankincense and odoriferous\ngums. When it has lived five hundred years, it builds itself a\nnest in the branches of an oak, or on the top of a palm tree. In\nthis it collects cinnamon, and spikenard, and myrrh, and of these\nmaterials builds a pile on which it deposits itself, and dying,\nbreathes out its last breath amidst odors. From the body of the\nparent bird, a young Phoenix issues forth, destined to live as\nlong a life as its predecessor. When this has grown up and gained\nsufficient strength, it lifts its nest from the tree (its own\ncradle and its parent's sepulchre), and carries it to the city of\nHeliopolis in Egypt, and deposits it in the temple of the Sun.\"\n\nSuch is the account given by a poet. Now let us see that of a\nphilosophic historian. Tacitus says, \"In the consulship of Paulus\nFabius (A.D. 34) the miraculous bird known to the world by the\nname of the Phoenix, after disappearing for a series of ages,\nrevisited Egypt. It was attended in its flight by a group of\nvarious birds, all attracted by the novelty, and gazing with\nwonder at so beautiful an appearance.\" He then gives an account of\nthe bird, not varying materially from the preceding, but adding\nsome details. \"The first care of the young bird as soon as\nfledged, and able to trust to his wings, is to perform the\nobsequies of his father. But this duty is not undertaken rashly.\nHe collects a quantity of myrrh, and to try his strength makes\nfrequent excursions with a load on his back. When he has gained\nsufficient confidence in his own vigor, he takes up the body of\nhis father and flies with it to the altar of the Sun, where he\nleaves it to be consumed in flames of fragrance.\" Other writers\nadd a few particulars. The myrrh is compacted in the form of an\negg, in which the dead Phoenix is enclosed. From the mouldering\nflesh of the dead bird a worm springs, and this worm, when grown\nlarge, is transformed into a bird. Herodotus DESCRIBES the bird,\nthough he says, \"I have not seen it myself, except in a picture.\nPart of his plumage is gold-colored, and part crimson; and he is\nfor the most part very much like an eagle in outline and bulk.\"\n\nThe first writer who disclaimed a belief in the existence of the\nPhoenix was Sir Thomas Browne, in his \"Vulgar Errors,\" published\nin 1646. He was replied to a few years later by Alexander Ross,\nwho says, in answer to the objection of the Phoenix so seldom\nmaking his appearance, \"His instinct teaches him to keep out of\nthe way of the tyrant of the creation, MAN, for if he were to be\ngot at, some wealthy glutton would surely devour him, though there\nwere no more in the world.\"\n\nDryden in one of his early poems has this allusion to the Phoenix:\n\n   \"So when the new-born Phoenix first is seen,\n    Her feathered subjects all adore their queen,\n    And while she makes her progress through the East,\n    From every grove her numerous train's increased;\n    Each poet of the air her glory sings,\n    And round him the pleased audience clap their wings.\"\n\nMilton, in \"Paradise Lost,\" Book V., compares the angel Raphael\ndescending to earth to a Phoenix:\n\n   \"... Down thither, prone in flight\n    He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky\n    Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing,\n    Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan\n    Winnows the buxom air; till within soar\n    Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems\n    A Phoenix, gazed by all; as that sole bird\n    When, to enshrine his relics in the sun's\n    Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.\"\n\nTHE COCKATRICE, OR BASILISK\n\nThis animal was called the king of the serpents. In confirmation\nof his royalty, he was said to be endowed with a crest, or comb\nupon the head, constituting a crown. He was supposed to be\nproduced from the egg of a cock hatched under toads or serpents.\nThere were several species of this animal. One species burned up\nwhatever they approached; a second were a kind of wandering\nMedusa's heads, and their look caused an instant horror which was\nimmediately followed by death. In Shakspeare's play of \"Richard\nthe Third,\" Lady Anne, in answer to Richard's compliment on her\neyes, says, \"Would they were basilisk's, to strike thee dead!\"\n\nThe basilisks were called kings of serpents because all other\nserpents and snakes, behaving like good subjects, and wisely not\nwishing to be burned up or struck dead, fled the moment they heard\nthe distant hiss of their king, although they might be in full\nfeed upon the most delicious prey, leaving the sole enjoyment of\nthe banquet to the royal monster.\n\nThe Roman naturalist Pliny thus describes him: \"He does not impel\nhis body, like other serpents, by a multiplied flexion, but\nadvances lofty and upright. He kills the shrubs, not only by\ncontact, but by breathing on them, and splits the rocks, such\npower of evil is there in him.\" It was formerly believed that if\nkilled by a spear from on horseback the power of the poison\nconducted through the weapon killed not only the rider, but the\nhorse also. To this Lucan alludes in these lines:\n\n   \"What though the Moor the basilisk hath slain,\n    And pinned him lifeless to the sandy plain,\n    Up through the spear the subtle venom flies,\n    The hand imbibes it, and the victor dies.\"\n\nSuch a prodigy was not likely to be passed over in the legends of\nthe saints. Accordingly we find it recorded that a certain holy\nman, going to a fountain in the desert, suddenly beheld a\nbasilisk. He immediately raised his eyes to heaven, and with a\npious appeal to the Deity laid the monster dead at his feet.\n\nThese wonderful powers of the basilisk are attested by a host of\nlearned persons, such as Galen, Avicenna, Scaliger, and others.\nOccasionally one would demur to some part of the tale while he\nadmitted the rest. Jonston, a learned physician, sagely remarks,\n\"I would scarcely believe that it kills with its look, for who\ncould have seen it and lived to tell the story?\" The worthy sage\nwas not aware that those who went to hunt the basilisk of this\nsort took with them a mirror, which reflected back the deadly\nglare upon its author, and by a kind of poetical justice slew the\nbasilisk with his own weapon.\n\nBut what was to attack this terrible and unapproachable monster?\nThere is an old saying that \"everything has its enemy\"--and the\ncockatrice quailed before the weasel. The basilisk might look\ndaggers, the weasel cared not, but advanced boldly to the\nconflict. When bitten, the weasel retired for a moment to eat some\nrue, which was the only plant the basilisks could not wither,\nreturned with renewed strength and soundness to the charge, and\nnever left the enemy till he was stretched dead on the plain. The\nmonster, too, as if conscious of the irregular way in which he\ncame into the world, was supposed to have a great antipathy to a\ncock; and well he might, for as soon as he heard the cock crow he\nexpired.\n\nThe basilisk was of some use after death. Thus we read that its\ncarcass was suspended in the temple of Apollo, and in private\nhouses, as a sovereign remedy against spiders, and that it was\nalso hung up in the temple of Diana, for which reason no swallow\never dared enter the sacred place.\n\nThe reader will, we apprehend, by this time have had enough of\nabsurdities, but still we can imagine his anxiety to know what a\ncockatrice was like. The following is from Aldrovandus, a\ncelebrated naturalist of the sixteenth century, whose work on\nnatural history, in thirteen folio volumes, contains with much\nthat is valuable a large proportion of fables and inutilities. In\nparticular he is so ample on the subject of the cock and the bull\nthat from his practice, all rambling, gossiping tales of doubtful\ncredibility are called COCK AND BULL STORIES. Aldrovandus,\nhowever, deserves our respect and esteem as the founder of a\nbotanic garden, and as a pioneer in the now prevalent custom of\nmaking scientific collections for purposes of investigation and\nresearch.\n\nShelley, in his \"Ode to Naples,\" full of the enthusiasm excited by\nthe intelligence of the proclamation of a Constitutional\nGovernment at Naples, in 1820, thus uses an allusion to the\nbasilisk:\n\n   \"What though Cimmerian anarchs dare blaspheme\n    Freedom and thee? a new Actaeon's error\n    Shall theirs have been,--devoured by their own hounds!\n      Be thou like the imperial basilisk,\n    Killing thy foe with unapparent wounds!\n      Gaze on oppression, till at that dread risk,\n      Aghast she pass from the earth's disk.\n    Fear not, but gaze,--for freemen mightier grow,\n    And slaves more feeble, gazing on their foe.\"\n\nTHE UNICORN\n\nPliny, the Roman naturalist, out of whose account of the unicorn\nmost of the modern unicorns have been described and figured,\nrecords it as \"a very ferocious beast, similar in the rest of its\nbody to a horse, with the head of a deer, the feet of an elephant,\nthe tail of a boar, a deep, bellowing voice, and a single black\nhorn, two cubits in length, standing out in the middle of its\nforehead.\" He adds that \"it cannot be taken alive;\" and some such\nexcuse may have been necessary in those days for not producing the\nliving animal upon the arena of the amphitheatre.\n\nThe unicorn seems to have been a sad puzzle to the hunters, who\nhardly knew how to come at so valuable a piece of game. Some\ndescribed the horn as movable at the will of the animal, a kind of\nsmall sword, in short, with which no hunter who was not\nexceedingly cunning in fence could have a chance. Others\nmaintained that all the animal's strength lay in its horn, and\nthat when hard pressed in pursuit, it would throw itself from the\npinnacle of the highest rocks horn foremost, so as to pitch upon\nit, and then quietly march off not a whit the worse for its fall.\n\nBut it seems they found out how to circumvent the poor unicorn at\nlast. They discovered that it was a great lover of purity and\ninnocence, so they took the field with a young virgin, who was\nplaced in the unsuspecting admirer's way. When the unicorn spied\nher, he approached with all reverence, couched beside her, and\nlaying his head in her lap, fell asleep. The treacherous virgin\nthen gave a signal, and the hunters made in and captured the\nsimple beast.\n\nModern zoologists, disgusted as they well may be with such fables\nas these, disbelieve generally the existence of the unicorn. Yet\nthere are animals bearing on their heads a bony protuberance more\nor less like a horn, which may have given rise to the story. The\nrhinoceros horn, as it is called, is such a protuberance, though\nit does not exceed a few inches in height, and is far from\nagreeing with the descriptions of the horn of the unicorn. The\nnearest approach to a horn in the middle of the forehead is\nexhibited in the bony protuberance on the forehead of the giraffe;\nbut this also is short and blunt, and is not the only horn of the\nanimal, but a third horn, standing in front of the two others. In\nfine, though it would be presumptuous to deny the existence of a\none-horned quadruped other than the rhinoceros, it may be safely\nstated that the insertion of a long and solid horn in the living\nforehead of a horse-like or deer-like animal is as near an\nimpossibility as anything can be.\n\nTHE SALAMANDER\n\nThe following is from the \"Life of Benvenuto Cellini,\" an Italian\nartist of the sixteenth century, written by himself: \"When I was\nabout five years of age, my father, happening to be in a little\nroom in which they had been washing, and where there was a good\nfire of oak burning, looked into the flames and saw a little\nanimal resembling a lizard, which could live in the hottest part\nof that element. Instantly perceiving what it was, he called for\nmy sister and me, and after he had shown us the creature, he gave\nme a box on the ear. I fell a-crying, while he, soothing me with\ncaresses, spoke these words: 'My dear child, I do not give you\nthat blow for any fault you have committed, but that you may\nrecollect that the little creature you see in the fire is a\nsalamander; such a one as never was beheld before to my\nknowledge.' So saying he embraced me, and gave me some money.\"\n\nIt seems unreasonable to doubt a story of which Signor Cellini was\nboth an eye and ear witness. Add to which the authority of\nnumerous sage philosophers, at the head of whom are Aristotle and\nPliny, affirms this power of the salamander. According to them,\nthe animal not only resists fire, but extinguishes it, and when he\nsees the flame charges it as an enemy which he well knows how to\nvanquish.\n\nThat the skin of an animal which could resist the action of fire\nshould be considered proof against that element is not to be\nwondered at. We accordingly find that a cloth made of the skin of\nsalamanders (for there really is such an animal, a kind of lizard)\nwas incombustible, and very valuable for wrapping up such articles\nas were too precious to be intrusted to any other envelopes. These\nfire-proof cloths were actually produced, said to be made of\nsalamander's wool, though the knowing ones detected that the\nsubstance of which they were composed was asbestos, a mineral,\nwhich is in fine filaments capable of being woven into a flexible\ncloth.\n\nThe foundation of the above fables is supposed to be the fact that\nthe salamander really does secrete from the pores of his body a\nmilky juice, which when he is irritated is produced in\nconsiderable quantity, and would doubtless, for a few moments,\ndefend the body from fire. Then it is a hibernating animal, and in\nwinter retires to some hollow tree or other cavity, where it coils\nitself up and remains in a torpid state till the spring again\ncalls it forth. It may therefore sometimes be carried with the\nfuel to the fire, and wake up only time enough to put forth all\nits faculties for its defence. Its viscous juice would do good\nservice, and all who profess to have seen it, acknowledge that it\ngot out of the fire as fast as its legs could carry it; indeed,\ntoo fast for them ever to make prize of one, except in one\ninstance, and in that one the animal's feet and some parts of its\nbody were badly burned.\n\nDr. Young, in the \"Night Thoughts,\" with more quaintness than good\ntaste, compares the sceptic who can remain unmoved in the\ncontemplation of the starry heavens to a salamander unwarmed in\nthe fire:\n\n   \"An undevout astronomer is mad!\n\n   \"O, what a genius must inform the skies!\n    And is Lorenzo's salamander-heart\n    Cold and untouched amid these sacred fires?\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII\n\nEASTERN MYTHOLOGY--ZOROASTER--HINDU MYTHOLOGY--CASTES--BUDDHA--\nGRAND LAMA\n\nZOROASTER\n\n\nOur knowledge of the religion of the ancient Persians is\nprincipally derived from the Zendavesta, or sacred books of that\npeople. Zoroaster was the founder of their religion, or rather the\nreformer of the religion which preceded him. The time when he\nlived is doubtful, but it is certain that his system became the\ndominant religion of Western Asia from the time of Cyrus (550\nB.C.) to the conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great. Under the\nMacedonian monarchy the doctrines of Zoroaster appear to have been\nconsiderably corrupted by the introduction of foreign opinions,\nbut they afterwards recovered their ascendency.\n\nZoroaster taught the existence of a supreme being, who created two\nother mighty beings and imparted to them as much of his own nature\nas seemed good to him. Of these, Ormuzd (called by the Greeks\nOromasdes) remained faithful to his creator, and was regarded as\nthe source of all good, while Ahriman (Arimanes) rebelled, and\nbecame the author of all evil upon the earth. Ormuzd created man\nand supplied him with all the materials of happiness; but Ahriman\nmarred this happiness by introducing evil into the world, and\ncreating savage beasts and poisonous reptiles and plants. In\nconsequence of this, evil and good are now mingled together in\nevery part of the world, and the followers of good and evil--the\nadherents of Ormuzd and Ahriman--carry on incessant war. But this\nstate of things will not last forever. The time will come when the\nadherents of Ormuzd shall everywhere be victorious, and Ahriman\nand his followers be consigned to darkness forever.\n\nThe religious rites of the ancient Persians were exceedingly\nsimple. They used neither temples, altars, nor statues, and\nperformed their sacrifices on the tops of mountains. They adored\nfire, light, and the sun as emblems of Ormuzd, the source of all\nlight and purity, but did not regard them as independent deities.\nThe religious rites and ceremonies were regulated by the priests,\nwho were called Magi. The learning of the Magi was connected with\nastrology and enchantment, in which they were so celebrated that\ntheir name was applied to all orders of magicians and enchanters.\n\nWordsworth thus alludes to the worship of the Persians:\n\n   \"... the Persian,--zealous to reject\n    Altar and Image, and the inclusive walls\n    And roofs of temples built by human hands,--\n    The loftiest heights ascending, from their tops,\n    With myrtle-wreathed Tiara on his brows,\n    Presented sacrifice to Moon and Stars,\n    And to the Winds and mother Elements,\n    And the whole circle of the Heavens, for him\n    A sensitive existence and a God.\"\n\n    --Excursion, Book IV.\n\nIn \"Childe Harold\" Byron speaks thus of the Persian worship:\n\n   \"Not vainly did the early Persian make\n    His altar the high places and the peak\n    Of earth-o'er-gazing mountains, and thus take\n    A fit and unwalled temple, there to seek\n    The Spirit, in whose honor shrines are weak,\n    Upreared of human hands. Come and compare\n    Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek,\n    With Nature's realms of worship, earth and air,\n    Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.\"\n\nIII., 91.\n\nThe religion of Zoroaster continued to flourish even after the\nintroduction of Christianity, and in the third century was the\ndominant faith of the East, till the rise of the Mahometan power\nand the conquest of Persia by the Arabs in the seventh century,\nwho compelled the greater number of the Persians to renounce their\nancient faith. Those who refused to abandon the religion of their\nancestors fled to the deserts of Kerman and to Hindustan, where\nthey still exist under the name of Parsees, a name derived from\nPars, the ancient name of Persia. The Arabs call them Guebers,\nfrom an Arabic word signifying unbelievers. At Bombay the Parsees\nare at this day a very active, intelligent, and wealthy class. For\npurity of life, honesty, and conciliatory manners, they are\nfavorably distinguished. They have numerous temples to Fire, which\nthey adore as the symbol of the divinity.\n\nThe Persian religion makes the subject of the finest tale in\nMoore's \"Lalla Rookh,\" the \"Fire Worshippers.\" The Gueber chief\nsays,\n\n   \"Yes! I am of that impious race,\n      Those slaves of Fire, that morn and even\n    Hail their creator's dwelling-place\n      Among the living lights of heaven;\n    Yes! I am of that outcast crew\n    To Iran and to vengeance true,\n    Who curse the hour your Arabs came\n    To desecrate our shrines of flame,\n    And swear before God's burning eye,\n    To break our country's chains or die.\"\n\nHINDU MYTHOLOGY\n\nThe religion of the Hindus is professedly founded on the Vedas. To\nthese books of their scripture they attach the greatest sanctity,\nand state that Brahma himself composed them at the creation. But\nthe present arrangement of the Vedas is attributed to the sage\nVyasa, about five thousand years ago.\n\nThe Vedas undoubtedly teach the belief of one supreme God. The\nname of this deity is Brahma. His attributes are represented by\nthe three personified powers of creation, preservation, and\ndestruction, which under the respective names of Brahma, Vishnu,\nand Siva form the Trimurti or triad of principal Hindu gods. Of\nthe inferior gods the most important are: 1. Indra, the god of\nheaven, of thunder, lightning, storm, and rain; 2. Agni, the god\nof fire; 3. Yama, the god of the infernal regions; 4. Surya, the\ngod of the sun.\n\nBrahma is the creator of the universe, and the source from which\nall the individual deities have sprung, and into which all will\nultimately be absorbed. \"As milk changes to curd, and water to\nice, so is Brahma variously transformed and diversified, without\naid of exterior means of any sort.\" The human soul, according to\nthe Vedas, is a portion of the supreme ruler, as a spark is of the\nfire.\n\nVISHNU\n\nVishnu occupies the second place in the triad of the Hindus, and\nis the personification of the preserving principle. To protect the\nworld in various epochs of danger, Vishnu descended to the earth\nin different incarnations, or bodily forms, which descents are\ncalled Avatars. They are very numerous, but ten are more\nparticularly specified. The first Avatar was as Matsya, the Fish,\nunder which form Vishnu preserved Manu, the ancestor of the human\nrace, during a universal deluge. The second Avatar was in the form\nof a Tortoise, which form he assumed to support the earth when the\ngods were churning the sea for the beverage of immortality,\nAmrita.\n\nWe may omit the other Avatars, which were of the same general\ncharacter, that is, interpositions to protect the right or to\npunish wrong-doers, and come to the ninth, which is the most\ncelebrated of the Avatars of Vishnu, in which he appeared in the\nhuman form of Krishna, an invincible warrior, who by his exploits\nrelieved the earth from the tyrants who oppressed it.\n\nBuddha is by the followers of the Brahmanical religion regarded as\na delusive incarnation of Vishnu, assumed by him in order to\ninduce the Asuras, opponents of the gods, to abandon the sacred\nordinances of the Vedas, by which means they lost their strength\nand supremacy.\n\nKalki is the name of the tenth Avatar, in which Vishnu will appear\nat the end of the present age of the world to destroy all vice and\nwickedness, and to restore mankind to virtue and purity.\n\nSIVA\n\nSiva is the third person of the Hindu triad. He is the\npersonification of the destroying principle. Though the third\nname, he is, in respect to the number of his worshippers and the\nextension of his worship, before either of the others. In the\nPuranas (the scriptures of the modern Hindu religion) no allusion\nis made to the original power of this god as a destroyer; that\npower not being to be called into exercise till after the\nexpiration of twelve millions of years, or when the universe will\ncome to an end; and Mahadeva (another name for Siva) is rather the\nrepresentative of regeneration than of destruction.\n\nThe worshippers of Vishnu and Siva form two sects, each of which\nproclaims the superiority of its favorite deity, denying the\nclaims of the other, and Brahma, the creator, having finished his\nwork, seems to be regarded as no longer active, and has now only\none temple in India, while Mahadeva and Vishnu have many. The\nworshippers of Vishnu are generally distinguished by a greater\ntenderness for life, and consequent abstinence from animal food,\nand a worship less cruel than that of the followers of Siva.\n\nJUGGERNAUT\n\nWhether the worshippers of Juggernaut are to be reckoned among the\nfollowers of Vishnu or Siva, our authorities differ. The temple\nstands near the shore, about three hundred miles south-west of\nCalcutta. The idol is a carved block of wood, with a hideous face,\npainted black, and a distended blood-red mouth. On festival days\nthe throne of the image is placed on a tower sixty feet high,\nmoving on wheels. Six long ropes are attached to the tower, by\nwhich the people draw it along. The priests and their attendants\nstand round the throne on the tower, and occasionally turn to the\nworshippers with songs and gestures. While the tower moves along\nnumbers of the devout worshippers throw themselves on the ground,\nin order to be crushed by the wheels, and the multitude shout in\napprobation of the act, as a pleasing sacrifice to the idol. Every\nyear, particularly at two great festivals in March and July,\npilgrims flock in crowds to the temple. Not less than seventy or\neighty thousand people are said to visit the place on these\noccasions, when all castes eat together.\n\nCASTES\n\nThe division of the Hindus into classes or castes, with fixed\noccupations, existed from the earliest times. It is supposed by\nsome to have been founded upon conquest, the first three castes\nbeing composed of a foreign race, who subdued the natives of the\ncountry and reduced them to an inferior caste. Others trace it to\nthe fondness of perpetuating, by descent from father to son,\ncertain offices or occupations.\n\nThe Hindu tradition gives the following account of the origin of\nthe various castes: At the creation Brahma resolved to give the\nearth inhabitants who should be direct emanations from his own\nbody. Accordingly from his mouth came forth the eldest born,\nBrahma (the priest), to whom he confided the four Vedas; from his\nright arm issued Shatriya (the warrior), and from his left, the\nwarrior's wife. His thighs produced Vaissyas, male and female\n(agriculturists and traders), and lastly from his feet sprang\nSudras (mechanics and laborers).\n\nThe four sons of Brahma, so significantly brought into the world,\nbecame the fathers of the human race, and heads of their\nrespective castes. They were commanded to regard the four Vedas as\ncontaining all the rules of their faith, and all that was\nnecessary to guide them in their religious ceremonies. They were\nalso commanded to take rank in the order of their birth, the\nBrahmans uppermost, as having sprung from the head of Brahma.\n\nA strong line of demarcation is drawn between the first three\ncastes and the Sudras. The former are allowed to receive\ninstruction from the Vedas, which is not permitted to the Sudras.\nThe Brahmans possess the privilege of teaching the Vedas, and were\nin former times in exclusive possession of all knowledge. Though\nthe sovereign of the country was chosen from the Shatriya class,\nalso called Rajputs, the Brahmans possessed the real power, and\nwere the royal counsellors, the judges and magistrates of the\ncountry; their persons and property were inviolable; and though\nthey committed the greatest crimes, they could only be banished\nfrom the kingdom. They were to be treated by sovereigns with the\ngreatest respect, for \"a Brahman, whether learned or ignorant, is\na powerful divinity.\"\n\nWhen the Brahman arrives at years of maturity it becomes his duty\nto marry. He ought to be supported by the contributions of the\nrich, and not to be obliged to gain his subsistence by any\nlaborious or productive occupation. But as all the Brahmans could\nnot be maintained by the working classes of the community, it was\nfound necessary to allow them to engage in productive employments.\n\nWe need say little of the two intermediate classes, whose rank and\nprivileges may be readily inferred from their occupations. The\nSudras or fourth class are bound to servile attendance on the\nhigher classes, especially the Brahmans, but they may follow\nmechanical occupations and practical arts, as painting and\nwriting, or become traders or husbandmen. Consequently they\nsometimes grow rich, and it will also sometimes happen that\nBrahmans become poor. That fact works its usual consequence, and\nrich Sudras sometimes employ poor Brahmans in menial occupations.\n\nThere is another class lower even than the Sudras, for it is not\none of the original pure classes, but springs from an unauthorized\nunion of individuals of different castes. These are the Pariahs,\nwho are employed in the lowest services and treated with the\nutmost severity. They are compelled to do what no one else can do\nwithout pollution. They are not only considered unclean\nthemselves, but they render unclean everything they touch. They\nare deprived of all civil rights, and stigmatized by particular\nlaws regulating their mode of life, their houses, and their\nfurniture. They are not allowed to visit the pagodas or temples of\nthe other castes, but have their own pagodas and religious\nexercises. They are not suffered to enter the houses of the other\ncastes; if it is done incautiously or from necessity, the place\nmust be purified by religious ceremonies. They must not appear at\npublic markets, and are confined to the use of particular wells,\nwhich they are obliged to surround with bones of animals, to warn\nothers against using them. They dwell in miserable hovels, distant\nfrom cities and villages, and are under no restrictions in regard\nto food, which last is not a privilege, but a mark of ignominy, as\nif they were so degraded that nothing could pollute them. The\nthree higher castes are prohibited entirely the use of flesh. The\nfourth is allowed to use all kinds except beef, but only the\nlowest caste is allowed every kind of food without restriction.\n\nBUDDHA\n\nBuddha, whom the Vedas represent as a delusive incarnation of\nVishnu, is said by his followers to have been a mortal sage, whose\nname was Gautama, called also by the complimentary epithets of\nSakyasinha, the Lion, and Buddha, the Sage.\n\nBy a comparison of the various epochs assigned to his birth, it is\ninferred that he lived about one thousand years before Christ.\n\nHe was the son of a king; and when in conformity to the usage of\nthe country he was, a few days after his birth, presented before\nthe altar of a deity, the image is said to have inclined its head\nas a presage of the future greatness of the new-born prophet. The\nchild soon developed faculties of the first order, and became\nequally distinguished by the uncommon beauty of his person. No\nsooner had he grown to years of maturity than he began to reflect\ndeeply on the depravity and misery of mankind, and he conceived\nthe idea of retiring from society and devoting himself to\nmeditation. His father in vain opposed this design. Buddha escaped\nthe vigilance of his guards, and having found a secure retreat,\nlived for six years undisturbed in his devout contemplations. At\nthe expiration of that period he came forward at Benares as a\nreligious teacher. At first some who heard him doubted of the\nsoundness of his mind; but his doctrines soon gained credit, and\nwere propagated so rapidly that Buddha himself lived to see them\nspread all over India. He died at the age of eighty years.\n\nThe Buddhists reject entirely the authority of the Vedas, and the\nreligious observances prescribed in them and kept by the Hindus.\nThey also reject the distinction of castes, and prohibit all\nbloody sacrifices, and allow animal food. Their priests are chosen\nfrom all classes; they are expected to procure their maintenance\nby perambulation and begging, and among other things it is their\nduty to endeavor to turn to some use things thrown aside as\nuseless by others, and to discover the medicinal power of plants.\nBut in Ceylon three orders of priests are recognized; those of the\nhighest order are usually men of high birth and learning, and are\nsupported at the principal temples, most of which have been richly\nendowed by the former monarchs of the country.\n\nFor several centuries after the appearance of Buddha, his sect\nseems to have been tolerated by the Brahmans, and Buddhism appears\nto have penetrated the peninsula of Hindustan in every direction,\nand to have been carried to Ceylon, and to the eastern peninsula.\nBut afterwards it had to endure in India a long-continued\npersecution, which ultimately had the effect of entirely\nabolishing it in the country where it had originated, but to\nscatter it widely over adjacent countries. Buddhism appears to\nhave been introduced into China about the year 65 of our era. From\nChina it was subsequently extended to Corea, Japan, and Java.\n\nTHE GRAND LAMA\n\nIt is a doctrine alike of the Brahminical Hindus and of the\nBuddhist sect that the confinement of the human soul, an emanation\nof the divine spirit, in a human body, is a state of misery, and\nthe consequence of frailties and sins committed during former\nexistences. But they hold that some few individuals have appeared\non this earth from time to time, not under the necessity of\nterrestrial existence, but who voluntarily descended to the earth\nto promote the welfare of mankind. These individuals have\ngradually assumed the character of reappearances of Buddha\nhimself, in which capacity the line is continued till the present\nday, in the several Lamas of Thibet, China, and other countries\nwhere Buddhism prevails. In consequence of the victories of Gengis\nKhan and his successors, the Lama residing in Thibet was raised to\nthe dignity of chief pontiff of the sect. A separate province was\nassigned to him as his own territory, and besides his spiritual\ndignity he became to a limited extent a temporal monarch. He is\nstyled the Dalai Lama.\n\nThe first Christian missionaries who proceeded to Thibet were\nsurprised to find there in the heart of Asia a pontifical court\nand several other ecclesiastical institutions resembling those of\nthe Roman Catholic church. They found convents for priests and\nnuns; also processions and forms of religious worship, attended\nwith much pomp and splendor; and many were induced by these\nsimilarities to consider Lamaism as a sort of degenerated\nChristianity. It is not improbable that the Lamas derived some of\nthese practices from the Nestorian Christians, who were settled in\nTartary when Buddhism was introduced into Thibet.\n\nPRESTER JOHN\n\nAn early account, communicated probably by travelling merchants,\nof a Lama or spiritual chief among the Tartars, seems to have\noccasioned in Europe the report of a Presbyter or Prester John, a\nChristian pontiff resident in Upper Asia. The Pope sent a mission\nin search of him, as did also Louis IX. of France, some years\nlater, but both missions were unsuccessful, though the small\ncommunities of Nestorian Christians, which they did find, served\nto keep up the belief in Europe that such a personage did exist\nsomewhere in the East. At last in the fifteenth century, a\nPortuguese traveller, Pedro Covilham, happening to hear that there\nwas a Christian prince in the country of the Abessines\n(Abyssinia), not far from the Red Sea, concluded that this must be\nthe true Prester John. He accordingly went thither, and penetrated\nto the court of the king, whom he calls Negus. Milton alludes to\nhim in \"Paradise Lost,\" Book XI., where, describing Adam's vision\nof his descendants in their various nations and cities, scattered\nover the face of the earth, he says,--\n\n    \"... Nor did his eyes not ken\n     Th' empire of Negus, to his utmost port,\n     Ercoco, and the less maritime kings,\n     Mombaza and Quiloa and Melind.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII\n\nNORTHERN MYTHOLOGY--VALHALLA--THE VALKYRIOR\n\nNORTHERN MYTHOLOGY\n\n\nThe stories which have engaged our attention thus far relate to\nthe mythology of southern regions. But there is another branch of\nancient superstitions which ought not to be entirely overlooked,\nespecially as it belongs to the nations from which we, through our\nEnglish ancestors, derive our origin. It is that of the northern\nnations, called Scandinavians, who inhabited the countries now\nknown as Sweden, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. These mythological\nrecords are contained in two collections called the Eddas, of\nwhich the oldest is in poetry and dates back to the year 1056, the\nmore modern or prose Edda being of the date of 1640.\n\nAccording to the Eddas there was once no heaven above nor earth\nbeneath, but only a bottomless deep, and a world of mist in which\nflowed a fountain. Twelve rivers issued from this fountain, and\nwhen they had flowed far from their source, they froze into ice,\nand one layer accumulating over another, the great deep was filled\nup.\n\nSouthward from the world of mist was the world of light. From this\nflowed a warm wind upon the ice and melted it. The vapors rose in\nthe air and formed clouds, from which sprang Ymir, the Frost giant\nand his progeny, and the cow Audhumbla, whose milk afforded\nnourishment and food to the giant. The cow got nourishment by\nlicking the hoar frost and salt from the ice. While she was one\nday licking the salt stones there appeared at first the hair of a\nman, on the second day the whole head, and on the third the entire\nform endowed with beauty, agility, and power. This new being was a\ngod, from whom and his wife, a daughter of the giant race, sprang\nthe three brothers Odin, Vili, and Ve. They slew the giant Ymir,\nand out of his body formed the earth, of his blood the seas, of\nhis bones the mountains, of his hair the trees, of his skull the\nheavens, and of his brain clouds, charged with hail and snow. Of\nYmir's eyebrows the gods formed Midgard (mid earth), destined to\nbecome the abode of man.\n\nOdin then regulated the periods of day and night and the seasons\nby placing in the heavens the sun and moon and appointing to them\ntheir respective courses. As soon as the sun began to shed its\nrays upon the earth, it caused the vegetable world to bud and\nsprout. Shortly after the gods had created the world they walked\nby the side of the sea, pleased with their new work, but found\nthat it was still incomplete, for it was without human beings.\nThey therefore took an ash tree and made a man out of it, and they\nmade a woman out of an elder, and called the man Aske and the\nwoman Embla. Odin then gave them life and soul, Vili reason and\nmotion, and Ve bestowed upon them the senses, expressive features,\nand speech. Midgard was then given them as their residence, and\nthey became the progenitors of the human race.\n\nThe mighty ash tree Ygdrasill was supposed to support the whole\nuniverse. It sprang from the body of Ymir, and had three immense\nroots, extending one into Asgard (the dwelling of the gods), the\nother into Jotunheim (the abode of the giants), and the third to\nNiffleheim (the regions of darkness and cold). By the side of each\nof these roots is a spring, from which it is watered. The root\nthat extends into Asgard is carefully tended by the three Norns,\ngoddesses, who are regarded as the dispensers of fate. They are\nUrdur (the past), Verdandi (the present), Skuld (the future). The\nspring at the Jotunheim side is Ymir's well, in which wisdom and\nwit lie hidden, but that of Niffleheim feeds the adder Nidhogge\n(darkness), which perpetually gnaws at the root. Four harts run\nacross the branches of the tree and bite the buds; they represent\nthe four winds. Under the tree lies Ymir, and when he tries to\nshake off its weight the earth quakes.\n\nAsgard is the name of the abode of the gods, access to which is\nonly gained by crossing the bridge Bifrost (the rainbow). Asgard\nconsists of golden and silver palaces, the dwellings of the gods,\nbut the most beautiful of these is Valhalla, the residence of\nOdin. When seated on his throne he overlooks all heaven and earth.\nUpon his shoulders are the ravens Hugin and Munin, who fly every\nday over the whole world, and on their return report to him all\nthey have seen and heard. At his feet lie his two wolves, Geri and\nFreki, to whom Odin gives all the meat that is set before him, for\nhe himself stands in no need of food. Mead is for him both food\nand drink. He invented the Runic characters, and it is the\nbusiness of the Norns to engrave the runes of fate upon a metal\nshield. From Odin's name, spelt Woden, as it sometimes is, came\nWednesday, the name of the fourth day of the week.\n\nOdin is frequently called Alfadur (All-father), but this name is\nsometimes used in a way that shows that the Scandinavians had an\nidea of a deity superior to Odin, uncreated and eternal.\n\nOF THE JOYS OF VALHALLA\n\nValhalla is the great hall of Odin, wherein he feasts with his\nchosen heroes, all those who have fallen bravely in battle, for\nall who die a peaceful death are excluded. The flesh of the boar\nSchrimnir is served up to them, and is abundant for all. For\nalthough this boar is cooked every morning, he becomes whole again\nevery night. For drink the heroes are supplied abundantly with\nmead from the she-goat Heidrum. When the heroes are not feasting\nthey amuse themselves with fighting. Every day they ride out into\nthe court or field and fight until they cut each other in pieces.\nThis is their pastime; but when meal time comes they recover from\ntheir wounds and return to feast in Valhalla.\n\nTHE VALKYRIE\n\nThe Valkyrie are warlike virgins, mounted upon horses and armed\nwith helmets and spears. Odin, who is desirous to collect a great\nmany heroes in Valhalla to be able to meet the giants in a day\nwhen the final contest must come, sends down to every battle-field\nto make choice of those who shall be slain. The Valkyrie are his\nmessengers, and their name means \"Choosers of the slain.\" When\nthey ride forth on their errand, their armor sheds a strange\nflickering light, which flashes up over the northern skies, making\nwhat men call the \"Aurora Borealis,\" or \"Northern Lights.\"\n[Footnote: Gray's ode, \"The Fatal Sisters,\" is founded on this\nsuperstition.]\n\nOF THOR AND THE OTHER GODS\n\nThor, the thunderer, Odin's eldest son, is the strongest of gods\nand men, and possesses three very precious things. The first is a\nhammer, which both the Frost and the Mountain giants know to their\ncost, when they see it hurled against them in the air, for it has\nsplit many a skull of their fathers and kindred. When thrown, it\nreturns to his hand of its own accord. The second rare thing he\npossesses is called the belt of strength. When he girds it about\nhim his divine might is doubled. The third, also very precious, is\nhis iron gloves, which he puts on whenever he would use his mallet\nefficiently. From Thor's name is derived our word Thursday.\n\nFrey is one of the most celebrated of the gods. He presides over\nrain and sunshine and all the fruits of the earth. His sister\nFreya is the most propitious of the goddesses. She loves music,\nspring, and flowers, and is particularly fond of the Elves\n(fairies). She is very fond of love ditties, and all lovers would\ndo well to invoke her.\n\nBragi is the god of poetry, and his song records the deeds of\nwarriors. His wife, Iduna, keeps in a box the apples which the\ngods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to\nbecome young again.\n\nHeimdall is the watchman of the gods, and is therefore placed on\nthe borders of heaven to prevent the giants from forcing their way\nover the bridge Bifrost (the rainbow). He requires less sleep than\na bird, and sees by night as well as by day a hundred miles around\nhim. So acute is his ear that no sound escapes him, for he can\neven hear the grass grow and the wool on a sheep's back.\n\nOF LOKI AND HIS PROGENY\n\nThere is another deity who is described as the calumniator of the\ngods and the contriver of all fraud and mischief. His name is\nLoki. He is handsome and well made, but of a very fickle mood and\nmost evil disposition. He is of the giant race, but forced himself\ninto the company of the gods, and seems to take pleasure in\nbringing them into difficulties, and in extricating them out of\nthe danger by his cunning, wit, and skill. Loki has three\nchildren. The first is the wolf Fenris, the second the Midgard\nserpent, the third Hela (Death), The gods were not ignorant that\nthese monsters were growing up, and that they would one day bring\nmuch evil upon gods and men. So Odin deemed it advisable to send\none to bring them to him. When they came he threw the serpent into\nthat deep ocean by which the earth is surrounded. But the monster\nhad grown to such an enormous size that holding his tail in his\nmouth he encircles the whole earth. Hela he cast into Niffleheim,\nand gave her power over nine worlds or regions, into which she\ndistributes those who are sent to her; that is, all who die of\nsickness or old age. Her hall is called Elvidner. Hunger is her\ntable, Starvation her knife, Delay her man, Slowness her maid,\nPrecipice her threshold, Care her bed, and Burning Anguish forms\nthe hangings of the apartments. She may easily be recognized, for\nher body is half flesh color and half blue, and she has a\ndreadfully stern and forbidding countenance. The wolf Fenris gave\nthe gods a great deal of trouble before they succeeded in chaining\nhim. He broke the strongest fetters as if they were made of\ncobwebs. Finally the gods sent a messenger to the mountain\nspirits, who made for them the chain called Gleipnir. It is\nfashioned of six things, viz., the noise made by the footfall of a\ncat, the beards of women, the roots of stones, the breath of\nfishes, the nerves (sensibilities) of bears, and the spittle of\nbirds. When finished it was as smooth and soft as a silken string.\nBut when the gods asked the wolf to suffer himself to be bound\nwith this apparently slight ribbon, he suspected their design,\nfearing that it was made by enchantment. He therefore only\nconsented to be bound with it upon condition that one of the gods\nput his hand in his (Fenris's) mouth as a pledge that the band was\nto be removed again. Tyr (the god of battles) alone had courage\nenough to do this. But when the wolf found that he could not break\nhis fetters, and that the gods would not release him, he bit off\nTyr's hand, and he has ever since remained one-handed. HOW THOR\nPAID THE MOUNTAIN GIANT HIS WAGES\n\nOnce on a time, when the gods were constructing their abodes and\nhad already finished Midgard and Valhalla, a certain artificer\ncame and offered to build them a residence so well fortified that\nthey should be perfectly safe from the incursions of the Frost\ngiants and the giants of the mountains. But he demanded for his\nreward the goddess Freya, together with the sun and moon. The gods\nyielded to his terms, provided he would finish the whole work\nhimself without any one's assistance, and all within the space of\none winter. But if anything remained unfinished on the first day\nof summer he should forfeit the recompense agreed on. On being\ntold these terms the artificer stipulated that he should be\nallowed the use of his horse Svadilfari, and this by the advice of\nLoki was granted to him. He accordingly set to work on the first\nday of winter, and during the night let his horse draw stone for\nthe building. The enormous size of the stones struck the gods with\nastonishment, and they saw clearly that the horse did one-half\nmore of the toilsome work than his master. Their bargain, however,\nhad been concluded, and confirmed by solemn oaths, for without\nthese precautions a giant would not have thought himself safe\namong the gods, especially when Thor should return from an\nexpedition he had then undertaken against the evil demons.\n\nAs the winter drew to a close, the building was far advanced, and\nthe bulwarks were sufficiently high and massive to render the\nplace impregnable. In short, when it wanted but three days to\nsummer, the only part that remained to be finished was the\ngateway. Then sat the gods on their seats of justice and entered\ninto consultation, inquiring of one another who among them could\nhave advised to give Freya away, or to plunge the heavens in\ndarkness by permitting the giant to carry away the sun and the\nmoon.\n\nThey all agreed that no one but Loki, the author of so many evil\ndeeds, could have given such bad counsel, and that he should be\nput to a cruel death if he did not contrive some way to prevent\nthe artificer from completing his task and obtaining the\nstipulated recompense. They proceeded to lay hands on Loki, who in\nhis fright promised upon oath that, let it cost him what it would,\nhe would so manage matters that the man should lose his reward.\nThat very night when the man went with Svadilfari for building\nstone, a mare suddenly ran out of a forest and began to neigh. The\nhorse thereat broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest,\nwhich obliged the man also to run after his horse, and thus\nbetween one and another the whole night was lost, so that at dawn\nthe work had not made the usual progress. The man, seeing that he\nmust fail of completing his task, resumed his own gigantic\nstature, and the gods now clearly perceived that it was in reality\na mountain giant who had come amongst them. Feeling no longer\nbound by their oaths, they called on Thor, who immediately ran to\ntheir assistance, and lifting up his mallet, paid the workman his\nwages, not with the sun and moon, and not even by sending him back\nto Jotunheim, for with the first blow he shattered the giant's\nskull to pieces and hurled him headlong into Niffleheim.\n\nTHE RECOVERY OF THE HAMMER\n\nOnce upon a time it happened that Thor's hammer fell into the\npossession of the giant Thrym, who buried it eight fathoms deep\nunder the rocks of Jotunheim. Thor sent Loki to negotiate with\nThrym, but he could only prevail so far as to get the giant's\npromise to restore the weapon if Freya would consent to be his\nbride. Loki returned and reported the result of his mission, but\nthe goddess of love was quite horrified at the idea of bestowing\nher charms on the king of the Frost giants. In this emergency Loki\npersuaded Thor to dress himself in Freya's clothes and accompany\nhim to Jotunheim. Thrym received his veiled bride with due\ncourtesy, but was greatly surprised at seeing her eat for her\nsupper eight salmons and a full grown ox, besides other\ndelicacies, washing the whole down with three tuns of mead. Loki,\nhowever, assured him that she had not tasted anything for eight\nlong nights, so great was her desire to see her lover, the\nrenowned ruler of Jotunheim. Thrym had at length the curiosity to\npeep under his bride's veil, but started back in affright and\ndemanded why Freya's eyeballs glistened with fire. Loki repeated\nthe same excuse and the giant was satisfied. He ordered the hammer\nto be brought in and laid on the maiden's lap. Thereupon Thor\nthrew off his disguise, grasped his redoubted weapon, and\nslaughtered Thrym and all his followers.\n\nFrey also possessed a wonderful weapon, a sword which would of\nitself spread a field with carnage whenever the owner desired it.\nFrey parted with this sword, but was less fortunate than Thor and\nnever recovered it. It happened in this way: Frey once mounted\nOdin's throne, from whence one can see over the whole universe,\nand looking round saw far off in the giant's kingdom a beautiful\nmaid, at the sight of whom he was struck with sudden sadness,\ninsomuch that from that moment he could neither sleep, nor drink,\nnor speak. At last Skirnir, his messenger, drew his secret from\nhim, and undertook to get him the maiden for his bride, if he\nwould give him his sword as a reward. Frey consented and gave him\nthe sword, and Skirnir set off on his journey and obtained the\nmaiden's promise that within nine nights she would come to a\ncertain place and there wed Frey. Skirnir having reported the\nsuccess of his errand, Frey exclaimed:\n\n    \"Long is one night,\n     Long are two nights,\n     But how shall I hold out three?\n     Shorter hath seemed\n     A month to me oft\n     Than of this longing time the half.\"\n\nSo Frey obtained Gerda, the most beautiful of all women, for his\nwife, but he lost his sword.\n\nThis story, entitled \"Skirnir For,\" and the one immediately\npreceding it, \"Thrym's Quida,\" will be found poetically told in\nLongfellow's \"Poets and Poetry of Europe.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX\n\nTHOR'S VISIT TO JOTUNHEIM\n\nTHOR'S VISIT TO JOTUNHEIM, THE GIANT'S COUNTRY\n\n\nOne day the god Thor, with his servant Thialfi, and accompanied by\nLoki, set out on a journey to the giant's country. Thialfi was of\nall men the swiftest of foot. He bore Thor's wallet, containing\ntheir provisions. When night came on they found themselves in an\nimmense forest, and searched on all sides for a place where they\nmight pass the night, and at last came to a very large hall, with\nan entrance that took the whole breadth of one end of the\nbuilding. Here they lay down to sleep, but towards midnight were\nalarmed by an earthquake which shook the whole edifice. Thor,\nrising up, called on his companions to seek with him a place of\nsafety. On the right they found an adjoining chamber, into which\nthe others entered, but Thor remained at the doorway with his\nmallet in his hand, prepared to defend himself, whatever might\nhappen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night, and at\ndawn of day Thor went out and found lying near him a huge giant,\nwho slept and snored in the way that had alarmed them so. It is\nsaid that for once Thor was afraid to use his mallet, and as the\ngiant soon waked up, Thor contented himself with simply asking his\nname.\n\n\"My name is Skrymir,\" said the giant, \"but I need not ask thy\nname, for I know that thou art the god Thor. But what has become\nof my glove?\" Thor then perceived that what they had taken\novernight for a hall was the giant's glove, and the chamber where\nhis two companions had sought refuge was the thumb. Skrymir then\nproposed that they should travel in company, and Thor consenting,\nthey sat down to eat their breakfast, and when they had done,\nSkrymir packed all the provisions into one wallet, threw it over\nhis shoulder, and strode on before them, taking such tremendous\nstrides that they were hard put to it to keep up with him. So they\ntravelled the whole day, and at dusk Skrymir chose a place for\nthem to pass the night in under a large oak tree. Skrymir then\ntold them he would lie down to sleep. \"But take ye the wallet,\" he\nadded, \"and prepare your supper.\"\n\nSkrymir soon fell asleep and began to snore strongly; but when\nThor tried to open the wallet, he found the giant had tied it up\nso tight he could not untie a single knot. At last Thor became\nwroth, and grasping his mallet with both hands he struck a furious\nblow on the giant's head. Skrymir, awakening, merely asked whether\na leaf had not fallen on his head, and whether they had supped and\nwere ready to go to sleep. Thor answered that they were just going\nto sleep, and so saying went and laid himself down under another\ntree. But sleep came not that night to Thor, and when Skrymir\nsnored again so loud that the forest reechoed with the noise, he\narose, and grasping his mallet launched it with such force at the\ngiant's skull that it made a deep dint in it. Skrymir, awakening,\ncried out, \"What's the matter? Are there any birds perched on this\ntree? I felt some moss from the branches fall on my head. How\nfares it with thee, Thor?\" But Thor went away hastily, saying that\nhe had just then awoke, and that as it was only midnight, there\nwas still time for sleep. He, however, resolved that if he had an\nopportunity of striking a third blow, it should settle all matters\nbetween them. A little before daybreak he perceived that Skrymir\nwas again fast asleep, and again grasping his mallet, he dashed it\nwith such violence that it forced its way into the giant's skull\nup to the handle. But Skrymir sat up, and stroking his cheek said,\n\"An acorn fell on my head. What! Art thou awake, Thor? Me thinks\nit is time for us to get up and dress ourselves; but you have not\nnow a long way before you to the city called Utgard. I have heard\nyou whispering to one another that I am not a man of small\ndimensions; but if you come to Utgard you will see there many men\nmuch taller than I. Wherefore, I advise you, when you come there,\nnot to make too much of yourselves, for the followers of Utgard--\nLoki will not brook the boasting of such little fellows as you\nare. You must take the road that leads eastward, mine lies\nnorthward, so we must part here.\"\n\nHereupon he threw his wallet over his shoulders and turned away\nfrom them into the forest, and Thor had no wish to stop him or to\nask for any more of his company.\n\nThor and his companions proceeded on their way, and towards noon\ndescried a city standing in the middle of a plain. It was so lofty\nthat they were obliged to bend their necks quite back on their\nshoulders in order to see to the top of it. On arriving they\nentered the city, and seeing a large palace before them with the\ndoor wide open, they went in, and found a number of men of\nprodigious stature, sitting on benches in the hall. Going further,\nthey came before the king, Utgard-Loki, whom they saluted with\ngreat respect. The king, regarding them with a scornful smile,\nsaid, \"If I do not mistake me, that stripling yonder must be the\ngod Thor.\" Then addressing himself to Thor, he said, \"Perhaps thou\nmayst be more than thou appearest to be. What are the feats that\nthou and thy fellows deem yourselves skilled in, for no one is\npermitted to remain here who does not, in some feat or other,\nexcel all other men?\"\n\n\"The feat that I know,\" said Loki, \"is to eat quicker than any one\nelse, and in this I am ready to give a proof against any one here\nwho may choose to compete with me.\"\n\n\"That will indeed be a feat,\" said Utgard-Loki, \"if thou\nperformest what thou promisest, and it shall be tried forthwith.\"\n\nHe then ordered one of his men who was sitting at the farther end\nof the bench, and whose name was Logi, to come forward and try his\nskill with Loki. A trough filled with meat having been set on the\nhall floor, Loki placed himself at one end, and Logi at the other,\nand each of them began to eat as fast as he could, until they met\nin the middle of the trough. But it was found that Loki had only\neaten the flesh, while his adversary had devoured both flesh and\nbone, and the trough to boot. All the company therefore adjudged\nthat Loki was vanquished.\n\nUtgard-Loki then asked what feat the young man who accompanied\nThor could perform. Thialfi answered that he would run a race with\nany one who might be matched against him. The king observed that\nskill in running was something to boast of, but if the youth would\nwin the match he must display great agility. He then arose and\nwent with all who were present to a plain where there was good\nground for running on, and calling a young man named Hugi, bade\nhim run a match with Thialfi. In the first course Hugi so much\nout-stripped his competitor that he turned back and met him not\nfar from the starting place. Then they ran a second and a third\ntime, but Thialfi met with no better success.\n\nUtgard-Loki then asked Thor in what feats he would choose to give\nproofs of that prowess for which he was so famous. Thor answered\nthat he would try a drinking-match with any one. Utgard-Loki bade\nhis cup-bearer bring the large horn which his followers were\nobliged to empty when they had trespassed in any way against the\nlaw of the feast. The cupbearer having presented it to Thor,\nUtgard-Loki said, \"Whoever is a good drinker will empty that horn\nat a single draught, though most men make two of it, but the most\npuny drinker can do it in three.\"\n\nThor looked at the horn, which seemed of no extraordinary size\nthough somewhat long; however, as he was very thirsty, he set it\nto his lips, and without drawing breath, pulled as long and as\ndeeply as he could, that he might not be obliged to make a second\ndraught of it; but when he set the horn down and looked in, he\ncould scarcely perceive that the liquor was diminished.\n\nAfter taking breath, Thor went to it again with all his might, but\nwhen he took the horn from his mouth, it seemed to him that he had\ndrunk rather less than before, although the horn could now be\ncarried without spilling.\n\n\"How now, Thor?\" said Utgard-Loki; \"thou must not spare thyself;\nif thou meanest to drain the horn at the third draught thou must\npull deeply; and I must needs say that thou wilt not be called so\nmighty a man here as thou art at home if thou showest no greater\nprowess in other feats than methinks will be shown in this.\"\n\nThor, full of wrath, again set the horn to his lips, and did his\nbest to empty it; but on looking in found the liquor was only a\nlittle lower, so he resolved to make no further attempt, but gave\nback the horn to the cup-bearer.\n\n\"I now see plainly,\" said Utgard-Loki, \"that thou art not quite so\nstout as we thought thee: but wilt thou try any other feat, though\nmethinks thou art not likely to bear any prize away with thee\nhence.\"\n\n\"What new trial hast thou to propose?\" said Thor.\n\n\"We have a very trifling game here,\" answered Utgard-Loki, \"in\nwhich we exercise none but children. It consists in merely lifting\nmy cat from the ground; nor should I have dared to mention such a\nfeat to the great Thor if I had not already observed that thou art\nby no means what we took thee for.\"\n\nAs he finished speaking, a large gray cat sprang on the hall\nfloor. Thor put his hand under the cat's belly and did his utmost\nto raise him from the floor, but the cat, bending his back, had,\nnotwithstanding all Thor's efforts, only one of his feet lifted\nup, seeing which Thor made no further attempt.\n\n\"This trial has turned out,\" said Utgard-Loki, \"just as I imagined\nit would. The cat is large, but Thor is little in comparison to\nour men.\"\n\n\"Little as ye call me,\" answered Thor, \"let me see who among you\nwill come hither now I am in wrath and wrestle with me.\"\n\n\"I see no one here,\" said Utgard-Loki, looking at the men sitting\non the benches, \"who would not think it beneath him to wrestle\nwith thee; let somebody, however, call hither that old crone, my\nnurse Elli, and let Thor wrestle with her if he will. She has\nthrown to the ground many a man not less strong than this Thor\nis.\"\n\nA toothless old woman then entered the hall, and was told by\nUtgard-Loki to take hold of Thor. The tale is shortly told. The\nmore Thor tightened his hold on the crone the firmer she stood. At\nlength after a very violent struggle Thor began to lose his\nfooting, and was finally brought down upon one knee. Utgard-Loki\nthen told them to desist, adding that Thor had now no occasion to\nask any one else in the hall to wrestle with him, and it was also\ngetting late; so he showed Thor and his companions to their seats,\nand they passed the night there in good cheer.\n\nThe next morning, at break of day, Thor and his companions dressed\nthemselves and prepared for their departure. Utgard-Loki ordered a\ntable to be set for them, on which there was no lack of victuals\nor drink. After the repast Utgard-Loki led them to the gate of the\ncity, and on parting asked Thor how he thought his journey had\nturned out, and whether he had met with any men stronger than\nhimself. Thor told him that he could not deny but that he had\nbrought great shame on himself. \"And what grieves me most,\" he\nadded, \"is that ye will call me a person of little worth.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Utgard-Loki, \"it behooves me to tell thee the truth,\nnow thou art out of the city, which so long as I live and have my\nway thou shalt never enter again. And, by my troth, had I known\nbeforehand that thou hadst so much strength in thee, and wouldst\nhave brought me so near to a great mishap, I would not have\nsuffered thee to enter this time. Know then that I have all along\ndeceived thee by my illusions; first in the forest, where I tied\nup the wallet with iron wire so that thou couldst not untie it.\nAfter this thou gavest me three blows with thy mallet; the first,\nthough the least, would have ended my days had it fallen on me,\nbut I slipped aside and thy blows fell on the mountain, where thou\nwilt find three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the\ndints made by thy mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in\nthe contests you have had with my followers. In the first, Loki,\nlike hunger itself, devoured all that was set before him, but Logi\nwas in reality nothing else than Fire, and therefore consumed not\nonly the meat, but the trough which held it. Hugi, with whom\nThialfi contended in running, was Thought, and it was impossible\nfor Thialfi to keep pace with that. When thou in thy turn didst\nattempt to empty the horn, thou didst perform, by my troth, a deed\nso marvellous that had I not seen it myself I should never have\nbelieved it. For one end of that horn reached the sea, which thou\nwast not aware of, but when thou comest to the shore thou wilt\nperceive how much the sea has sunk by thy draughts. Thou didst\nperform a feat no less wonderful by lifting up the cat, and to\ntell thee the truth, when we saw that one of his paws was off the\nfloor, we were all of us terror-stricken, for what thou tookest\nfor a cat was in reality the Midgard serpent that encompasseth the\nearth, and he was so stretched by thee that he was barely long\nenough to enclose it between his head and tail. Thy wrestling with\nElli was also a most astonishing feat, for there was never yet a\nman, nor ever will be, whom Old Age, for such in fact was Elli,\nwill not sooner or later lay low. But now, as we are going to\npart, let me tell thee that it will be better for both of us if\nthou never come near me again, for shouldst thou do so, I shall\nagain defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt only\nlose thy labor and get no fame from the contest with me.\"\n\nOn hearing these words Thor in a rage laid hold of his mallet and\nwould have launched it at him, but Utgard-Loki had disappeared,\nand when Thor would have returned to the city to destroy it, he\nfound nothing around him but a verdant plain.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL\n\nTHE DEATH OF BALDUR--THE ELVES--RUNIC LETTERS--ICELAND--TEUTONIC\nMYTHOLOGY--NIBELUNGEN LIED\n\nTHE DEATH OF BALDUR\n\n\nBaldur the Good, having been tormented with terrible dreams\nindicating that his life was in peril, told them to the assembled\ngods, who resolved to conjure all things to avert from him the\nthreatened danger. Then Frigga, the wife of Odin, exacted an oath\nfrom fire and water, from iron and all other metals, from stones,\ntrees, diseases, beasts, birds, poisons, and creeping things, that\nnone of them would do any harm to Baldur. Odin, not satisfied with\nall this, and feeling alarmed for the fate of his son, determined\nto consult the prophetess Angerbode, a giantess, mother of Fenris,\nHela, and the Midgard serpent. She was dead, and Odin was forced\nto seek her in Hela's dominions. This Descent of Odin forms the\nsubject of Gray's fine ode beginning,--\n\n    \"Uprose the king of men with speed\n    And saddled straight his coal-black steed\"\n\nBut the other gods, feeling that what Frigga had done was quite\nsufficient, amused themselves with using Baldur as a mark, some\nhurling darts at him, some stones, while others hewed at him with\ntheir swords and battle-axes; for do what they would, none of them\ncould harm him. And this became a favorite pastime with them and\nwas regarded as an honor shown to Baldur. But when Loki beheld the\nscene he was sorely vexed that Baldur was not hurt. Assuming,\ntherefore, the shape of a woman, he went to Fensalir, the man-\nsion of Frigga. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman,\ninquired of her if she knew what the gods were doing at their\nmeetings. She replied that they were throwing darts and stones at\nBaldur, without being able to hurt him. \"Ay,\" said Frigga,\n\"neither stones, nor sticks, nor anything else can hurt Baldur,\nfor I have exacted an oath from all of them.\" \"What,\" exclaimed\nthe woman, \"have all things sworn to spare Baldur?\" \"All things,\"\nreplied Frigga, \"except one little shrub that grows on the eastern\nside of Valhalla, and is called Mistletoe, and which I thought too\nyoung and feeble to crave an oath from.\"\n\nAs soon as Loki heard this he went away, and resuming his natural\nshape, cut off the mistletoe, and repaired to the place where the\ngods were assembled. There he found Hodur standing apart, without\npartaking of the sports, on account of his blindness, and going up\nto him, said, \"Why dost thou not also throw something at Baldur?\"\n\n\"Because I am blind,\" answered Hodur, \"and see not where Baldur\nis, and have, moreover, nothing to throw.\"\n\n\"Come, then,\" said Loki, \"do like the rest, and show honor to\nBaldur by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm\ntowards the place where he stands.\"\n\nHodur then took the mistletoe, and under the guidance of Loki,\ndarted it at Baldur, who, pierced through and through, fell down\nlifeless. Surely never was there witnessed, either among gods or\nmen, a more atrocious deed than this. When Baldur fell, the gods\nwere struck speechless with horror, and then they looked at each\nother, and all were of one mind to lay hands on him who had done\nthe deed, but they were obliged to delay their vengeance out of\nrespect for the sacred place where they were assembled. They gave\nvent to their grief by loud lamentations. When the gods came to\nthemselves, Frigga asked who among them wished to gain all her\nlove and good will. \"For this,\" said she, \"shall he have who will\nride to Hel and offer Hela a ransom if she will let Baldur return\nto Asgard.\" Whereupon Hermod, surnamed the Nimble, the son of\nOdin, offered to undertake the journey. Odin's horse, Sleipnir,\nwhich has eight legs and can outrun the wind, was then led forth,\non which Hermod mounted and galloped away on his mission. For the\nspace of nine days and as many nights he rode through deep glens\nso dark that he could not discern anything, until he arrived at\nthe river Gyoll, which he passed over on a bridge covered with\nglittering gold. The maiden who kept the bridge asked him his name\nand lineage, telling him that the day before five bands of dead\npersons had ridden over the bridge, and did not shake it as much\nas he alone. \"But,\" she added, \"thou hast not death's hue on thee;\nwhy then ridest thou here on the way to Hel?\"\n\n\"I ride to Hel,\" answered Hermod, \"to seek Baldur. Hast thou\nperchance seen him pass this way?\"\n\nShe replied, \"Baldur hath ridden over Gyoll's bridge, and yonder\nlieth the way he took to the abodes of death\"\n\nHermod pursued his journey until he came to the barred gates of\nHel. Here he alighted, girthed his saddle tighter, and remounting\nclapped both spurs to his horse, who cleared the gate by a\ntremendous leap without touching it. Hermod then rode on to the\npalace, where he found his brother Baldur occupying the most\ndistinguished seat in the hall, and passed the night in his\ncompany. The next morning he besought Hela to let Baldur ride home\nwith him, assuring her that nothing but lamentations were to be\nheard among the gods. Hela answered that it should now be tried\nwhether Baldur was so beloved as he was said to be. \"If,\ntherefore,\" she added, \"all things in the world, both living and\nlifeless, weep for him, then shall he return to life; but if any\none thing speak against him or refuse to weep, he shall be kept in\nHel.\"\n\nHermod then rode back to Asgard and gave an account of all he had\nheard and witnessed.\n\nThe gods upon this despatched messengers throughout the world to\nbeg everything to weep in order that Baldur might be delivered\nfrom Hel. All things very willingly complied with this request,\nboth men and every other living being, as well as earths, and\nstones, and trees, and metals, just as we have all seen these\nthings weep when they are brought from a cold place into a hot\none. As the messengers were returning, they found an old hag named\nThaukt sitting in a cavern, and begged her to weep Baldur out of\nHel. But she answered,\n\n    \"Thaukt will wail\n    With dry tears\n    Baldur's bale-fire.\n    Let Hela keep her own.\"\n\nIt was strongly suspected that this hag was no other than Loki\nhimself, who never ceased to work evil among gods and men. So\nBaldur was prevented from coming back to Asgard.\n\n[Footnote: In Longfellow's Poems will be found a poem entitled\n\"Tegner's Drapa,\" upon the subject of Baldur's death.]\n\nThe gods took up the dead body and bore it to the seashore where\nstood Baldur's ship \"Hringham,\" which passed for the largest in\nthe world. Baldur's dead body was put on the funeral pile, on\nboard the ship, and his wife Nanna was so struck with grief at the\nsight that she broke her heart, and her body was burned on the\nsame pile as her husband's. There was a vast concourse of various\nkinds of people at Baldur's obsequies. First came Odin accompanied\nby Frigga, the Valkyrie, and his ravens; then Frey in his car\ndrawn by Gullinbursti, the boar; Heimdall rode his horse Gulltopp,\nand Freya drove in her chariot drawn by cats. There were also a\ngreat many Frost giants and giants of the mountain present.\nBaldur's horse was led to the pile fully caparisoned and consumed\nin the same flames with his master.\n\nBut Loki did not escape his deserved punishment. When he saw how\nangry the gods were, he fled to the mountain, and there built\nhimself a hut with four doors, so that he could see every\napproaching danger. He invented a net to catch the fishes, such as\nfishermen have used since his time. But Odin found out his hiding-\nplace and the gods assembled to take him. He, seeing this, changed\nhimself into a salmon, and lay hid among the stones of the brook.\nBut the gods took his net and dragged the brook, and Loki, finding\nhe must be caught, tried to leap over the net; but Thor caught him\nby the tail and compressed it, so that salmons ever since have had\nthat part remarkably fine and thin. They bound him with chains and\nsuspended a serpent over his head, whose venom falls upon his face\ndrop by drop. His wife Siguna sits by his side and catches the\ndrops as they fall, in a cup; but when she carries it away to\nempty it, the venom falls upon Loki, which makes him howl with\nhorror, and twist his body about so violently that the whole earth\nshakes, and this produces what men call earthquakes.\n\nTHE ELVES\n\nThe Edda mentions another class of beings, inferior to the gods,\nbut still possessed of great power; these were called Elves. The\nwhite spirits, or Elves of Light, were exceedingly fair, more\nbrilliant than the sun, and clad in garments of a delicate and\ntransparent texture. They loved the light, were kindly disposed to\nmankind, and generally appeared as fair and lovely children. Their\ncountry was called Alfheim, and was the domain of Freyr, the god\nof the sun, in whose light they were always sporting.\n\nThe Black or Night Elves were a different kind of creatures. Ugly,\nlong-nosed dwarfs, of a dirty brown color, they appeared only at\nnight, for they avoided the sun as their most deadly enemy,\nbecause whenever his beams fell upon any of them they changed them\nimmediately into stones. Their language was the echo of solitudes,\nand their dwelling-places subterranean caves and clefts. They were\nsupposed to have come into existence as maggots produced by the\ndecaying flesh of Ymir's body, and were afterwards endowed by the\ngods with a human form and great understanding. They were\nparticularly distinguished for a knowledge of the mysterious\npowers of nature, and for the runes which they carved and\nexplained. They were the most skilful artificers of all created\nbeings, and worked in metals and in wood. Among their most noted\nworks were Thor's hammer, and the ship \"Skidbladnir,\" which they\ngave to Freyr, and which was so large that it could contain all\nthe deities with their war and household implements, but so\nskillfully was it wrought that when folded together it could be\nput into a side pocket.\n\nRAGNAROK, THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS\n\nIt was a firm belief of the northern nations that a time would\ncome when all the visible creation, the gods of Valhalla and\nNiffleheim, the inhabitants of Jotunheim, Alfheim, and Midgard,\ntogether with their habitations, would be destroyed. The fearful\nday of destruction will not, however, be without its forerunners.\nFirst will come a triple winter, during which snow will fall from\nthe four corners of the heavens, the frost be very severe, the\nwind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no\ngladness. Three such winters will pass away without being tempered\nby a single summer. Three other similar winters will then follow,\nduring which war and discord will spread over the universe. The\nearth itself will be frightened and begin to tremble, the sea\nleave its basin, the heavens tear asunder, and men perish in great\nnumbers, and the eagles of the air feast upon their still\nquivering bodies. The wolf Fenris will now break his bands, the\nMidgard serpent rise out of her bed in the sea, and Loki, released\nfrom his bonds, will join the enemies of the gods. Amidst the\ngeneral devastation the sons of Muspelheim will rush forth under\ntheir leader Surtur, before and behind whom are flames and burning\nfire. Onward they ride over Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, which\nbreaks under the horses' hoofs. But they, disregarding its fall,\ndirect their course to the battlefield called Vigrid. Thither also\nrepair the wolf Fenris, the Midgard serpent, Loki with all the\nfollowers of Hela, and the Frost giants.\n\nHeimdall now stands up and sounds the Giallar horn to assemble the\ngods and heroes for the contest. The gods advance, led on by Odin,\nwho engages the wolf Fenris, but falls a victim to the monster,\nwho is, however, slain by Vidar, Odin's son. Thor gains great\nrenown by killing the Midgard serpent, but recoils and falls dead,\nsuffocated with the venom which the dying monster vomits over him.\nLoki and Heimdall meet and fight till they are both slain. The\ngods and their enemies having fallen in battle, Surtur, who has\nkilled Freyr, darts fire and flames over the world, and the whole\nuniverse is burned up. The sun becomes dim, the earth sinks into\nthe ocean, the stars fall from heaven, and time is no more.\n\nAfter this Alfadur (the Almighty) will cause a new heaven and a\nnew earth to arise out of the sea. The new earth filled with\nabundant supplies will spontaneously produce its fruits without\nlabor or care. Wickedness and misery will no more be known, but\nthe gods and men will live happily together.\n\nRUNIC LETTERS\n\nOne cannot travel far in Denmark, Norway, or Sweden without\nmeeting with great stones of different forms, engraven with\ncharacters called Runic, which appear at first sight very\ndifferent from all we know. The letters consist almost invariably\nof straight lines, in the shape of little sticks either singly or\nput together. Such sticks were in early times used by the northern\nnations for the purpose of ascertaining future events. The sticks\nwere shaken up, and from the figures that they formed a kind of\ndivination was derived.\n\nThe Runic characters were of various kinds. They were chiefly used\nfor magical purposes. The noxious, or, as they called them, the\nBITTER runes, were employed to bring various evils on their\nenemies; the favorable averted misfortune. Some were medicinal,\nothers employed to win love, etc. In later times they were\nfrequently used for inscriptions, of which more than a thousand\nhave been found. The language is a dialect of the Gothic, called\nNorse, still in use in Iceland. The inscriptions may therefore be\nread with certainty, but hitherto very few have been found which\nthrow the least light on history. They are mostly epitaphs on\ntombstones.\n\nGray's ode on the \"Descent of Odin\" contains an allusion to the\nuse of Runic letters for incantation:\n\n    \"Facing to the northern clime,\n    Thrice he traced the Runic rhyme;\n    Thrice pronounced, in accents dread,\n    The thrilling verse that wakes the dead,\n    Till from out the hollow ground\n    Slowly breathed a sullen sound.\"\n\nTHE SKALDS\n\nThe Skalds were the bards and poets of the nation, a very\nimportant class of men in all communities in an early stage of\ncivilization. They are the depositaries of whatever historic lore\nthere is, and it is their office to mingle something of\nintellectual gratification with the rude feasts of the warriors,\nby rehearsing, with such accompaniments of poetry and music as\ntheir skill can afford, the exploits of their heroes living or\ndead. The compositions of the Skalds were called Sagas, many of\nwhich have come down to us, and contain valuable materials of\nhistory, and a faithful picture of the state of society at the\ntime to which they relate.\n\nICELAND\n\nThe Eddas and Sagas have come to us from Iceland. The following\nextract from Carlyle's lectures on \"Heroes and Hero Worship\" gives\nan animated account of the region where the strange stories we\nhave been reading had their origin. Let the reader contrast it for\na moment with Greece, the parent of classical mythology:\n\n\"In that strange island, Iceland,--burst up, the geologists say,\nby fire from the bottom of the sea, a wild land of barrenness and\nlava, swallowed many months of every year in black tempests, yet\nwith a wild, gleaming beauty in summer time, towering up there\nstern and grim in the North Ocean, with its snow yokuls\n[mountains], roaring geysers [boiling springs], sulphur pools, and\nhorrid volcanic chasms, like the waste, chaotic battlefield of\nFrost and Fire,--where, of all places, we least looked for\nliterature or written memorials,--the record of these things was\nwritten down. On the seaboard of this wild land is a rim of grassy\ncountry, where cattle can subsist, and men by means of them and of\nwhat the sea yields; and it seems they were poetic men these, men\nwho had deep thoughts in them and uttered musically their\nthoughts. Much would be lost had Iceland not been burst up from\nthe sea, not been discovered by the Northmen!\"\n\nTEUTONIC MYTHOLOGY\n\nIn the mythology of Germany proper, the name of Odin appears as\nWotan; Freya and Frigga are regarded as one and the same divinity,\nand the gods are in general represented as less warlike in\ncharacter than those in the Scandinavian myths. As a whole,\nhowever, Teutonic mythology runs along almost identical lines with\nthat of the northern nations. The most notable divergence is due\nto modifications of the legends by reason of the difference in\nclimatic conditions. The more advanced social condition of the\nGermans is also apparent in their mythology.\n\nTHE NIBELUNGEN LIED\n\nOne of the oldest myths of the Teutonic race is found in the great\nnational epic of the Nibelungen Lied, which dates back to the\nprehistoric era when Wotan, Frigga, Thor, Loki, and the other gods\nand goddesses were worshipped in the German forests. The epic is\ndivided into two parts, the first of which tells how Siegfried,\nthe youngest of the kings of the Netherlands, went to Worms, to\nask in marriage the hand of Kriemhild, sister of Gunther, King of\nBurgundy. While he was staying with Gunther, Siegfried helped the\nBurgundian king to secure as his wife Brunhild, queen of Issland.\nThe latter had announced publicly that he only should be her\nhusband who could beat her in hurling a spear, throwing a huge\nstone, and in leaping. Siegfried, who possessed a cloak of\ninvisibility, aided Gunther in these three contests, and Brunhild\nbecame his wife. In return for these services, Gunther gave\nSiegfried his sister Kriemhild in marriage.\n\nAfter some time had elapsed, Siegfried and Kriemhild went to visit\nGunther, when the two women fell into a dispute about the relative\nmerits of their husbands. Kriemhild, to exalt Siegfried, boasted\nthat it was to the latter that Gunther owed his victories and his\nwife. Brunhild, in great anger, employed Hagan, liegeman of\nGunther, to murder Siegfried. In the epic Hagan is described as\nfollows:\n\n\"Well-grown and well-compacted was that redoubted guest; Long were\nhis legs and sinewy, and deep and broad his chest; His hair, that\nonce was sable, with gray was dashed of late; Most terrible his\nvisage, and lordly was his gait.\"\n\n--Nibelungen Lied, stanza 1789.\n\nThis Achilles of German romance stabbed Siegfried between the\nshoulders, as the unfortunate King of the Netherlands was stooping\nto drink from a brook during a hunting expedition.\n\nThe second part of the epic relates how, thirteen years later,\nKriemhild married Etzel, King of the Huns. After a time, she\ninvited the King of Burgundy, with Hagan and many others, to the\ncourt of her husband. A fearful quarrel was stirred up in the\nbanquet hall, which ended in the slaughter of all the Burgundians\nbut Gunther and Hagan. These two were taken prisoners and given to\nKriemhild, who with her own hand cut off the heads of both. For\nthis bloody act of vengeance Kriemhild was herself slain by\nHildebrand, a magician and champion, who in German mythology holds\na place to an extent corresponding to that of Nestor in the Greek\nmythology.\n\nTHE NIBELUNGEN HOARD\n\nThis was a mythical mass of gold and precious stones which\nSiegfried obtained from the Nibelungs, the people of the north\nwhom he had conquered and whose country he had made tributary to\nhis own kingdom of the Netherlands. Upon his marriage, Siegfried\ngave the treasure to Kriemhild as her wedding portion. After the\nmurder of Siegfried, Hagan seized it and buried it secretly\nbeneath the Rhine at Lochham, intending to recover it at a future\nperiod. The hoard was lost forever when Hagan was killed by\nKriemhild. Its wonders are thus set forth in the poem:\n\n    \"'Twas as much as twelve huge wagons in four whole nights and days\n    Could carry from the mountain down to the salt sea bay;\n    Though to and fro each wagon thrice journeyed every day.\n\n    \"It was made up of nothing but precious stones and gold;\n    Were all the world bought from it, and down the value told,\n    Not a mark the less would there be left than erst there was, I ween.\"\n\n    --Nibelungen Lied, XIX.\n\nWhoever possessed the Nibelungen hoard were termed Nibelungers.\nThus at one time certain people of Norway were so called. When\nSiegfried held the treasure he received the title \"King of the\nNibelungers.\"\n\nWAGNER'S NIBELUNGEN RING\n\nThough Richard Wagner's music-drama of the Nibelungen Ring bears\nsome resemblance to the ancient German epic, it is a wholly\nindependent composition and was derived from various old songs and\nsagas, which the dramatist wove into one great harmonious story.\nThe principal source was the Volsunga Saga, while lesser parts\nwere taken from the Elder Edda and the Younger Edda, and others\nfrom the Nibelungen Lied, the Ecklenlied, and other Teutonic\nfolklore.\n\nIn the drama there are at first only four distinct races,--the\ngods, the giants, the dwarfs, and the nymphs. Later, by a special\ncreation, there come the valkyrie and the heroes. The gods are the\nnoblest and highest race, and dwell first in the mountain meadows,\nlater in the palace of Valhalla on the heights. The giants are a\ngreat and strong race, but lack wisdom; they hate what is noble,\nand are enemies of the gods; they dwell in caves near the earth's\nsurface. The dwarfs, or nibelungs, are black uncouth pigmies,\nhating the good, hating the gods; they are crafty and cunning, and\ndwell in the bowels of the earth. The nymphs are pure, innocent\ncreatures of the water. The valkyrie are daughters of the gods,\nbut mingled with a mortal strain; they gather dead heroes from the\nbattle-fields and carry them to Valhalla. The heroes are children\nof the gods, but also mingled with a mortal strain; they are\ndestined to become at last the highest race of all, and to succeed\nthe gods in the government of the world.\n\nThe principal gods are Wotan, Loki, Donner, and Froh. The chief\ngiants are Fafner and Fasolt, brothers. The chief dwarfs are\nAlberich and Mime, brothers, and later Hagan, son of Alberich. The\nchief nymphs are the Rhine-daughters, Flosshilda, Woglinda, and\nWellgunda. There are nine Valkyrie, of whom Brunhild is the\nleading one.\n\nWagner's story of the Ring may be summarized as follows:\n\nA hoard of gold exists in the depths of the Rhine, guarded by the\ninnocent Rhine-maidens. Alberich, the dwarf, forswears love to\ngain this gold. He makes it into a magic ring. It gives him all\npower, and he gathers by it a vast amount of treasures.\n\nMeanwhile Wotan, chief of the gods, has engaged the giants to\nbuild for him a noble castle, Valhalla, from whence to rule the\nworld, promising in payment Freya, goddess of youth and love. But\nthe gods find they cannot spare Freya, as they are dependent on\nher for their immortal youth. Loki, called upon to provide a\nsubstitute, tells of Alberich's magic ring and other treasure.\nWotan goes with Loki, and they steal the ring and the golden hoard\nfrom Alberich, who curses the ring and lays the curse on all who\nshall henceforth possess it. The gods give the ring and the\ntreasure to the giants as a substitute for Freya. The curse at\nonce begins. One giant, Fafner, kills his brother to get all, and\ntransforms himself into a dragon to guard his wealth. The gods\nenter Valhalla over the rainbow bridge. This ends the first part\nof the drama, called the Rhine-Gold.\n\nThe second part, the Valkyrie, relates how Wotan still covets the\nring. He cannot take it himself, for he has given his word to the\ngiants. He stands or falls by his word. So he devises an artifice\nto get the ring. He will get a hero-race to work for him and\nrecover the ring and the treasures. Siegmund and Sieglinda are\ntwin children of this new race. Sieglinda is carried off as a\nchild and is forced into marriage with Hunding. Siegmund comes,\nand unknowingly breaks the law of marriage, but wins Nothung, the\ngreat sword, and a bride. Brunhild, chief of the Valkyrie, is\ncommissioned by Wotan at the instance of Fricka, goddess of\nmarriage, to slay him for his sin. She disobeys and tries to save\nhim, but Hunding, helped by Wotan, slays him. Sieglinda, however,\nabout to bear the free hero, to be called Siegfried, is saved by\nBrunhild, and hid in the forest. Brunhild herself is punished by\nbeing made a mortal woman. She is left sleeping on the mountains\nwith a wall of fire around her which only a hero can penetrate.\n\nThe drama continues with the story of Siegfried, which opens with\na scene in the smithy between Mime the dwarf and Siegfried. Mime\nis welding a sword, and Siegfried scorns him. Mime tells him\nsomething of his mother, Sieglinda, and shows him the broken\npieces of his father's sword. Wotan comes and tells Mime that only\none who has no fear can remake the sword. Now Siegfried knows no\nfear and soon remakes the sword Nothung. Wotan and Alberich come\nto where the dragon Fafner is guarding the ring. They both long\nfor it, but neither can take it. Soon Mime comes bringing\nSiegfried with the mighty sword. Fafner comes out, but Siegfried\nslays him. Happening to touch his lips with the dragon's blood, he\nunderstands the language of the birds. They tell him of the ring.\nHe goes and gets it. Siegfried now has possession of the ring, but\nit is to bring him nothing of happiness, only evil. It is to curse\nlove and finally bring death. The birds also tell him of Mime's\ntreachery. He slays Mime. He longs for some one to love. The birds\ntell him of the slumbering Brunnhilda, whom he finds and marries.\n\nThe Dusk of the Gods portrays at the opening the three norns or\nfates weaving and measuring the thread of destiny. It is the\nbeginning of the end. The perfect pair, Siegfried and Brunhild,\nappear in all the glory of their life, splendid ideals of manhood\nand womanhood. But Siegfried goes out into the world to achieve\ndeeds of prowess. He gives her the Nibelungen ring to keep as a\npledge of his love till his return. Meanwhile Alberich also has\nbegotten a son, Hagan, to achieve for him the possession of the\nring. He is partly of the Gibichung race, and works through\nGunther and Gutrune, half-brother and half-sister to him. They\nbeguile Siegfried to them, give him a magic draught which makes\nhim forget Brunhild and fall in love with Gutrune. Under this same\nspell, he offers to bring Brunhild for wife to Gunther. Now is\nValhalla full of sorrow and despair. The gods fear the end. Wotan\nmurmurs, \"O that she would give back the ring to the Rhine.\" But\nBrunhild will not give it up,--it is now her pledge of love.\nSiegfried comes, takes the ring, and Brunhild is now brought to\nthe Rhine castle of the Gibichungs, but Siegfried under the spell\ndoes not love her. She is to be wedded to Gunther. She rises in\nwrath and denounces Siegfried. But at a hunting banquet Siegfried\nis given another magic draught, remembers all, and is slain by\nHagan by a blow in the back, as he calls on Brunhild's name in\nlove. Then comes the end. The body of Siegfried is burned on a\nfuneral pyre, a grand funeral march is heard, and Brunhild rides\ninto the flames and sacrifices herself for love's sake; the ring\ngoes back to the Rhine-daughters; and the old world--of the gods\nof Valhalla, of passion and sin--is burnt up with flames, for the\ngods have broken moral law, and coveted power rather than love,\ngold rather than truth, and therefore must perish. They pass, and\na new era, the reign of love and truth, has begun.\n\nThose who wish to study the differences in the legends of the\nNibelungen Lied and the Nibelungen Ring, and the way in which\nWagner used his ancient material, are referred to Professor W. C.\nSawyer's book on \"Teutonic Legends in the Nibelungen Lied and the\nNibelungen Ring,\" where the matter is treated in full detail. For\na very thorough and clear analysis of the Ring as Wagner gives it,\nwith a study of the musical motifs, probably nothing is better for\ngeneral readers than the volume \"The Epic of Sounds,\" by Freda\nWinworth. The more scholarly work of Professor Lavignac is\nindispensable for the student of Wagner's dramas. There is much\nilluminating comment on the sources and materials in \"Legends of\nthe Wagner Drama\" by J. L. Weston.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI\n\nTHE DRUIDS--IONA\n\nDRUIDS\n\n\nThe Druids were the priests or ministers of religion among the\nancient Celtic nations in Gaul, Britain, and Germany. Our\ninformation respecting them is borrowed from notices in the Greek\nand Roman writers, compared with the remains of Welsh and Gaelic\npoetry still extant.\n\nThe Druids combined the functions of the priest, the magistrate,\nthe scholar, and the physician. They stood to the people of the\nCeltic tribes in a relation closely analogous to that in which the\nBrahmans of India, the Magi of Persia, and the priests of the\nEgyptians stood to the people respectively by whom they were\nrevered.\n\nThe Druids taught the existence of one god, to whom they gave a\nname \"Be' al,\" which Celtic antiquaries tell us means \"the life of\neverything,\" or \"the source of all beings,\" and which seems to\nhave affinity with the Phoenician Baal. What renders this affinity\nmore striking is that the Druids as well as the Phoenicians\nidentified this, their supreme deity, with the Sun. Fire was\nregarded as a symbol of the divinity. The Latin writers assert\nthat the Druids also worshipped numerous inferior gods.\n\nThey used no images to represent the object of their worship, nor\ndid they meet in temples or buildings of any kind for the\nperformance of their sacred rites. A circle of stones (each stone\ngenerally of vast size), enclosing an area of from twenty feet to\nthirty yards in diameter, constituted their sacred place. The most\ncelebrated of these now remaining is Stonehenge, on Salisbury\nPlain, England.\n\nThese sacred circles were generally situated near some stream, or\nunder the shadow of a grove or wide-spreading oak. In the centre\nof the circle stood the Cromlech or altar, which was a large\nstone, placed in the manner of a table upon other stones set up on\nend. The Druids had also their high places, which were large\nstones or piles of stones on the summits of hills. These were\ncalled Cairns, and were used in the worship of the deity under the\nsymbol of the sun.\n\nThat the Druids offered sacrifices to their deity there can be no\ndoubt. But there is some uncertainty as to what they offered, and\nof the ceremonies connected with their religious services we know\nalmost nothing. The classical (Roman) writers affirm that they\noffered on great occasions human sacrifices; as for success in war\nor for relief from dangerous diseases. Caesar has given a detailed\naccount of the manner in which this was done. \"They have images of\nimmense size, the limbs of which are framed with twisted twigs and\nfilled with living persons. These being set on fire, those within\nare encompassed by the flames.\" Many attempts have been made by\nCeltic writers to shake the testimony of the Roman historians to\nthis fact, but without success.\n\nThe Druids observed two festivals in each year. The former took\nplace in the beginning of May, and was called Beltane or \"fire of\nGod.\" On this occasion a large fire was kindled on some elevated\nspot, in honor of the sun, whose returning beneficence they thus\nwelcomed after the gloom and desolation of winter. Of this custom\na trace remains in the name given to Whitsunday in parts of\nScotland to this day. Sir Walter Scott uses the word in the \"Boat\nSong\" in the \"Lady of the Lake\":\n\n\"Ours is no sapling, chance sown by the fountain, Blooming at\nBeltane in winter to fade;\" etc.\n\nThe other great festival of the Druids was called \"Samh'in,\" or\n\"fire of peace,\" and was held on Halloweve (first of November),\nwhich still retains this designation in the Highlands of Scotland.\nOn this occasion the Druids assembled in solemn conclave, in the\nmost central part of the district, to discharge the judicial\nfunctions of their order. All questions, whether public or\nprivate, all crimes against person or property, were at this time\nbrought before them for adjudication. With these judicial acts\nwere combined certain superstitious usages, especially the\nkindling of the sacred fire, from which all the fires in the\ndistrict, which had been beforehand scrupulously extinguished,\nmight be relighted. This usage of kindling fires on Hallow-eve\nlingered in the British islands long after the establishment of\nChristianity.\n\nBesides these two great annual festivals, the Druids were in the\nhabit of observing the full moon, and especially the sixth day of\nthe moon. On the latter they sought the Mistletoe, which grew on\ntheir favorite oaks, and to which, as well as to the oak itself,\nthey ascribed a peculiar virtue and sacredness. The discovery of\nit was an occasion of rejoicing and solemn worship. \"They call\nit,\" says Pliny, \"by a word in their language, which means 'heal-\nall,' and having made solemn preparation for feasting and\nsacrifice under the tree, they drive thither two milk-white bulls,\nwhose horns are then for the first time bound. The priest then,\nrobed in white, ascends the tree, and cuts off the mistletoe with\na golden sickle. It is caught in a white mantle, after which they\nproceed to slay the victims, at the same time praying that God\nwould render his gift prosperous to those to whom he had given\nit.\" They drink the water in which it has been infused, and think\nit a remedy for all diseases. The mistletoe is a parasitic plant,\nand is not always nor often found on the oak, so that when it is\nfound it is the more precious.\n\nThe Druids were the teachers of morality as well as of religion.\nOf their ethical teaching a valuable specimen is preserved in the\nTriads of the Welsh Bards, and from this we may gather that their\nviews of moral rectitude were on the whole just, and that they\nheld and inculcated many very noble and valuable principles of\nconduct. They were also the men of science and learning of their\nage and people. Whether they were acquainted with letters or not\nhas been disputed, though the probability is strong that they\nwere, to some extent. But it is certain that they committed\nnothing of their doctrine, their history, or their poetry to\nwriting. Their teaching was oral, and their literature (if such a\nword may be used in such a case) was preserved solely by\ntradition. But the Roman writers admit that \"they paid much\nattention to the order and laws of nature, and investigated and\ntaught to the youth under their charge many things concerning the\nstars and their motions, the size of the world and the lands, and\nconcerning the might and power of the immortal gods.\"\n\nTheir history consisted in traditional tales, in which the heroic\ndeeds of their forefathers were celebrated. These were apparently\nin verse, and thus constituted part of the poetry as well as the\nhistory of the Druids. In the poems of Ossian we have, if not the\nactual productions of Druidical times, what may be considered\nfaithful representations of the songs of the Bards.\n\nThe Bards were an essential part of the Druidical hierarchy. One\nauthor, Pennant, says, \"The Bards were supposed to be endowed with\npowers equal to inspiration. They were the oral historians of all\npast transactions, public and private. They were also accomplished\ngenealogists,\" etc.\n\nPennant gives a minute account of the Eisteddfods or sessions of\nthe Bards and minstrels, which were held in Wales for many\ncenturies, long after the Druidical priesthood in its other\ndepartments became extinct. At these meetings none but Bards of\nmerit were suffered to rehearse their pieces, and minstrels of\nskill to perform. Judges were appointed to decide on their\nrespective abilities, and suitable degrees were conferred. In the\nearlier period the judges were appointed by the Welsh princes, and\nafter the conquest of Wales, by commission from the kings of\nEngland. Yet the tradition is that Edward I., in revenge for the\ninfluence of the Bards in animating the resistance of the people\nto his sway, persecuted them with great cruelty. This tradition\nhas furnished the poet Gray with the subject of his celebrated\node, the \"Bard.\"\n\nThere are still occasional meetings of the lovers of Welsh poetry\nand music, held under the ancient name. Among Mrs. Hemans' poems\nis one written for an Eisteddfod, or meeting of Welsh Bards, held\nin London, May 22, 1822. It begins with a description of the\nancient meeting, of which the following lines are a part:\n\n    \"... midst the eternal cliffs, whose strength defied\n    The crested Roman in his hour of pride;\n    And where the Druid's ancient cromlech frowned,\n    And the oaks breathed mysterious murmurs round,\n    There thronged the inspired of yore! on plain or height,\n    In the sun's face, beneath the eye of light,\n    And baring unto heaven each noble head,\n    Stood in the circle, where none else might tread.\"\n\nThe Druidical system was at its height at the time of the Roman\ninvasion under Julius Caesar. Against the Druids, as their chief\nenemies, these conquerors of the world directed their unsparing\nfury. The Druids, harassed at all points on the mainland,\nretreated to Anglesey and Iona, where for a season they found\nshelter and continued their now dishonored rites.\n\nThe Druids retained their predominance in Iona and over the\nadjacent islands and mainland until they were supplanted and their\nsuperstitions overturned by the arrival of St. Columba, the\napostle of the Highlands, by whom the inhabitants of that district\nwere first led to profess Christianity.\n\nIONA\n\nOne of the smallest of the British Isles, situated near a rugged\nand barren coast, surrounded by dangerous seas, and possessing no\nsources of internal wealth, Iona has obtained an imperishable\nplace in history as the seat of civilization and religion at a\ntime when the darkness of heathenism hung over almost the whole of\nNorthern Europe. lona or Icolmkill is situated at the extremity of\nthe island of Mull, from which it is separated by a strait of half\na mile in breadth, its distance from the mainland of Scotland\nbeing thirty-six miles.\n\nColumba was a native of Ireland, and connected by birth with the\nprinces of the land. Ireland was at that time a land of gospel\nlight, while the western and northern parts of Scotland were still\nimmersed in the darkness of heathenism. Columba with twelve\nfriends landed on the island of lona in the year of our Lord 563,\nhaving made the passage in a wicker boat covered with hides. The\nDruids who occupied the island endeavored to prevent his settling\nthere, and the savage nations on the adjoining shores incommoded\nhim with their hostility, and on several occasions endangered his\nlife by their attacks. Yet by his perseverance and zeal he\nsurmounted all opposition, procured from the king a gift of the\nisland, and established there a monastery of which he was the\nabbot. He was unwearied in his labors to disseminate a knowledge\nof the Scriptures throughout the Highlands and islands of\nScotland, and such was the reverence paid him that though not a\nbishop, but merely a presbyter and monk, the entire province with\nits bishops was subject to him and his successors. The Pictish\nmonarch was so impressed with a sense of his wisdom and worth that\nhe held him in the highest honor, and the neighboring chiefs and\nprinces sought his counsel and availed themselves of his judgment\nin settling their disputes.\n\nWhen Columba landed on lona he was attended by twelve followers\nwhom he had formed into a religious body of which he was the head.\nTo these, as occasion required, others were from time to time\nadded, so that the original number was always kept up. Their\ninstitution was called a monastery and the superior an abbot, but\nthe system had little in common with the monastic institutions of\nlater times. The name by which those who submitted to the rule\nwere known was that of Culdees, probably from the Latin \"cultores\nDei\"--worshippers of God. They were a body of religious persons\nassociated together for the purpose of aiding each other in the\ncommon work of preaching the gospel and teaching youth, as well as\nmaintaining in themselves the fervor of devotion by united\nexercises of worship. On entering the order certain vows were\ntaken by the members, but they were not those which were usually\nimposed by monastic orders, for of these, which are three,--\ncelibacy, poverty, and obedience.--the Culdees were bound to none\nexcept the third. To poverty they did not bind themselves; on the\ncontrary they seem to have labored diligently to procure for\nthemselves and those dependent on them the comforts of life.\nMarriage also was allowed them, and most of them seem to have\nentered into that state. True, their wives were not permitted to\nreside with them at the institution, but they had a residence\nassigned to them in an adjacent locality. Near lona there is an\nisland which still bears the name of \"Eilen nam ban,\" women's\nisland, where their husbands seem to have resided with them,\nexcept when duty required their presence in the school or the\nsanctuary.\n\nCampbell, in his poem of \"Reullura,\" alludes to the married monks\nof Iona:\n\n    \"... The pure Culdees\n       Were Albyn's earliest priests of God,\n    Ere yet an island of her seas\n      By foot of Saxon monk was trod,\n    Long ere her churchmen by bigotry\n    Were barred from holy wedlock's tie.\n    'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar,\n      In lona preached the word with power,\n    And Reullura, beauty's star,\n      Was the partner of his bower.\"\n\nIn one of his \"Irish Melodies,\" Moore gives the legend of St.\nSenanus and the lady who sought shelter on the island, but was\nrepulsed:\n\n    \"O, haste and leave this sacred isle,\n    Unholy bark, ere morning smile;\n    For on thy deck, though dark it be,\n        A female form I see;\n    And I have sworn this sainted sod\n    Shall ne'er by woman's foot be trod.\"\n\nIn these respects and in others the Culdees departed from the\nestablished rules of the Romish church, and consequently were\ndeemed heretical. The consequence was that as the power of the\nlatter advanced that of the Culdees was enfeebled. It was not,\nhowever, till the thirteenth centurv that the communities of the\nCuldees were suppressed and the members dispersed. They still\ncontinued to labor as individuals, and resisted the inroads of\nPapal usurpation as they best might till the light of the\nReformation dawned on the world.\n\nIona, from its position in the western seas, was exposed to the\nassaults of the Norwegian and Danish rovers by whom those seas\nwere infested, and by them it was repeatedly pillaged, its\ndwellings burned, and its peaceful inhabitants put to the sword.\nThese unfavorable circumstances led to its gradual decline, which\nwas expedited by the subversion of the Culdees throughout\nScotland. Under the reign of Popery the island became the seat of\na nunnery, the ruins of which are still seen. At the Reformation,\nthe nuns were allowed to remain, living in community, when the\nabbey was dismantled.\n\nIona is now chiefly resorted to by travellers on account of the\nnumerous ecclesiastical and sepulchral remains which are found\nupon it. The principal of these are the Cathedral or Abbey Church\nand the Chapel of the Nunnery. Besides these remains of\necclesiastical antiquity, there are some of an earlier date, and\npointing to the existence on the island of forms of worship and\nbelief different from those of Christianity. These are the\ncircular Cairns which are found in various parts, and which seem\nto have been of Druidical origin. It is in reference to all these\nremains of ancient religion that Johnson exclaims, \"That man is\nlittle to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the\nplains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer amid the\nruins of lona.\"\n\nIn the \"Lord of the Isles\" Scott beautifully contrasts the church\non lona with the cave of Staffa, opposite:\n\n    \"Nature herself, it seemed, would raise\n    A minister to her Maker's praise!\n    Not for a meaner use ascend\n    Her columns, or her arches bend;\n    Nor of a theme less solemn tells\n    That mighty surge that ebbs and swells,\n    And still between each awful pause,\n    From the high vault an answer draws,\n    In varied tone, prolonged and high,\n    That mocks the organ's melody;\n    Nor doth its entrance front in vain\n    To old Iona's holy fane,\n    That Nature's voice might seem to say,\n    Well hast thou done, frail child of clay!\n    Thy humble powers that stately shrine\n    Tasked high and hard--but witness mine!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\nAbdalrahman, founder of the independent Ommiad (Saracenic) power\nin Spain, conquered at Tours by Charles Martel\n\nAberfraw, scene of nuptials of Branwen and Matholch\n\nAbsyrtus, younger brother of Medea\n\nAbydos, a town on the Hellespont, nearly opposite to Sestos\n\nAbyla, Mount, or Columna, a mountain in Morocco, near Ceuta, now\ncalled Jebel Musa or Ape's Hill, forming the Northwestern\nextremity of the African coast opposite Gibraltar (See Pillars of\nHercules)\n\nAcestes, son of a Trojan woman who was sent by her father to\nSicily, that she might not be devoured by the monsters which\ninfested the territory of Troy\n\nAcetes, Bacchanal captured by Pentheus\n\nAchates, faithful friend and companion of Aeneas\n\nAchelous, river-god of the largest river in Greece--his Horn of\nPlenty\n\nAchilles, the hero of the Iliad, son of Peleus and of the Nereid\nThetis, slain by Paris\n\nAcis, youth loved by Galatea and slain by Polyphemus\n\nAcontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with Cydippe, the\ndaughter of a noble Athenian.\n\nAcrisius, son of Abas, king of Argos, grandson of Lynceus, the\ngreat-grandson of Danaus.\n\nActaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of Aristaeus and Autonoe, who,\nhaving seen Diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed\nby his own dogs.\n\nAdmeta, daughter of Eurystheus, covets Hippolyta's girdle.\n\nAdmetus, king of Thessaly, saved from death by Alcestis\n\nAdonis, a youth beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), and Proserpine;\nkilled by a boar.\n\nAdrastus, a king of Argos.\n\nAeacus, son of Zeus (Jupiter) and Aegina, renowned in all Greece\nfor his justice and piety.\n\nAeaea, Circe's island, visited by Ulysses.\n\nAeetes, or Aeeta, son of Helios (the Sun) and Perseis, and father\nof Medea and Absyrtus.\n\nAegeus, king of Athens.\n\nAegina, a rocky island in the middle of the Saronic gulf.\n\nAegis, shield or breastplate of Jupiter and Minerva.\n\nAegisthus, murderer of Agamemnon, slain by Orestes.\n\nAeneas, Trojan hero, son of Anchises and Aphrodite (Venus), and\nborn on Mount Ida, reputed first settler of Rome,\n\nAeneid, poem by Virgil, relating the wanderings of Aeneas from\nTroy to Italy,\n\nAe'olus, son of Hellen and the nymph Orseis, represented in Homer\nas the happy ruler of the Aeolian Islands, to whom Zeus had given\ndominion over the winds,\n\nAesculapius, god of the medical art,\n\nAeson, father of Jason, made young again by Medea,\n\nAethiopians, inhabitants of the country south of Egypt,\n\nAethra, mother of Theseus by Aegeus,\n\nAetna, volcano in Sicily,\n\nAgamedes, brother of Trophonius, distinguished as an architect,\n\nAgamemnon, son of Plisthenis and grandson of Atreus, king of\nMycenae, although the chief commander of the Greeks, is not the\nhero of the Iliad, and in chivalrous spirit altogether inferior to\nAchilles,\n\nAgave, daughter of Cadmus, wife of Echion, and mother of Pentheus,\n\nAgenor, father of Europa, Cadmus, Cilix, and Phoenix,\n\nAglaia, one of the Graces,\n\nAgni, Hindu god of fire,\n\nAgramant, a king in Africa,\n\nAgrican, fabled king of Tartary, pursuing Angelica, finally killed\nby Orlando,\n\nAgrivain, one of Arthur's knights,\n\nAhriman, the Evil Spirit in the dual system of Zoroaster, See\nOrmuzd\n\nAjax, son of Telamon, king of Salamis, and grandson of Aeacus,\nrepresented in the Iliad as second only to Achilles in bravery,\n\nAlba, the river where King Arthur fought the Romans,\n\nAlba Longa, city in Italy founded by son of Aeneas,\n\nAlberich, dwarf guardian of Rhine gold treasure of the Nibelungs\n\nAlbracca, siege of,\n\nAlcestis, wife of Admetus, offered hersell as sacrifice to spare\nher husband, but rescued by Hercules,\n\nAlcides (Hercules),\n\nAlcina, enchantress,\n\nAlcinous, Phaeacian king,\n\nAlcippe, daughter of Mars, carried off by Halirrhothrus,\n\nAlcmena, wife of Jupiter, and mother of Hercules,\n\nAlcuin, English prelate and scholar,\n\nAldrovandus, dwarf guardian of treasure,\n\nAlecto, one of the Furies,\n\nAlexander the Great, king of Macedonia, conqueror of Greece,\nEgypt, Persia, Babylonia, and India,\n\nAlfadur, a name for Odin,\n\nAlfheim, abode of the elves of light,\n\nAlice, mother of Huon and Girard, sons of Duke Sevinus,\n\nAlphenor, son of Niobe,\n\nAlpheus, river god pursuing Arethusa, who escaped by being changed\nto a fountain,\n\nAlthaea, mother of Meleager, whom she slew because he had in a\nquarrel killed her brothers, thus disgracing \"the house of\nThestius,\" her father,\n\nAmalthea, nurse of the infant Jupiter in Crete,\n\nAmata, wife of Latinus, driven mad by Alecto,\n\nAmaury of Hauteville, false hearted Knight of Charlemagne,\n\nAmazons, mythical race of warlike women,\n\nAmbrosia, celestial food used by the gods,\n\nAmmon, Egyptian god of life identified by Romans with phases of\nJupiter, the father of gods,\n\nAmphiaraus, a great prophet and hero at Argos,\n\nAmphion, a musician, son of Jupiter and Antiope (See Dirce),\n\nAmphitrite, wife of Neptune,\n\nAmphyrsos, a small river in Thessaly,\n\nAmpyx, assailant of Perseus, turned to stone by seeing Gorgon's\nhead,\n\nAmrita, nectar giving immortality,\n\nAmun, See Ammon\n\nAmymone, one of the fifty daughters of Danaus, and mother by\nPoseidon (Neptune) of Nauplius, the father of Palamedes,\n\nAnaxarete, a maiden of Cyprus, who treated her lover Iphis with\nsuch haughtiness that he hanged himself at her door,\n\nAnbessa, Saracenic governor of Spain (725 AD),\n\nAnceus, one of the Argonauts,\n\nAnchises, beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), by whom he became the\nfather of Aeneas,\n\nAndraemon, husband of Dryope, saw her changed into a tree,\n\nAndret, a cowardly knight, spy upon Tristram,\n\nAndromache, wife of Hector\n\nAndromeda, daughter of King Cephas, delivered from monster by\nPerseus\n\nAneurin, Welsh bard\n\nAngelica, Princess of Cathay\n\nAnemone, short lived wind flower, created by Venus from the blood\nof the slain Adonis\n\nAngerbode, giant prophetess, mother of Fenris, Hela and the\nMidgard Serpent\n\nAnglesey, a Northern British island, refuge of Druids fleeing from\nRomans\n\nAntaeus, giant wrestler of Libya, killed by Hercules, who, finding\nhim stronger when thrown to the earth, lifted him into the air and\nstrangled him\n\nAntea, wife of jealous Proetus\n\nAntenor, descendants of, in Italy\n\nAnteros, deity avenging unrequited love, brother of Eros (Cupid)\n\nAnthor, a Greek\n\nAntigone, daughter of Aedipus, Greek ideal of filial and sisterly\nfidelity\n\nAntilochus, son of Nestor\n\nAntiope, Amazonian queen. See Dirce\n\nAnubis, Egyptian god, conductor of the dead to judgment\n\nApennines\n\nAphrodite See Venus, Dione, etc.\n\nApis, Egyptian bull god of Memphis\n\nApollo, god of music and song\n\nApollo Belvedere, famous antique statue in Vatican at Rome\n\nApples of the Hesperides, wedding gifts to Juno, guarded by\ndaughters of Atlas and Hesperis, stolen by Atlas for Hercules,\n\nAquilo, or Boreas, the North Wind,\n\nAquitaine, ancient province of Southwestern France,\n\nArachne, a maiden skilled in weaving, changed to a spider by\nMinerva for daring to compete with her,\n\nArcadia, a country in the middle of Peloponnesus, surrounded on\nall sides by mountains,\n\nArcady, star of, the Pole star,\n\nArcas, son of Jupiter and Callisto,\n\nArcher, constellation of the,\n\nAreopagus, court of the, at Athens,\n\nAres, called Mars by the Romans, the Greek god of war, and one of\nthe great Olympian gods,\n\nArethusa, nymph of Diana, changed to a fountain,\n\nArgius king of Ireland, father of Isoude the Fair,\n\nArgo, builder of the vessel of Jason for the Argonautic\nexpedition,\n\nArgolis, city of the Nemean games,\n\nArgonauts, Jason's crew seeking the Golden Fleece,\n\nArgos, a kingdom in Greece,\n\nArgus, of the hundred eyes, guardian of Io,\n\nAriadne, daughter of King Minos, who helped Theseus slay the\nMinotaur,\n\nArimanes SEE Ahriman.\n\nArimaspians, one-eyed people of Syria,\n\nArion, famous musician, whom sailors cast into the sea to rob him,\nbut whose lyric song charmed the dolphins, one of which bore him\nsafely to land,\n\nAristaeus, the bee keeper, in love with Eurydice,\n\nArmorica, another name for Britain,\n\nArridano, a magical ruffian, slain by Orlando,\n\nArtemis SEE Diana\n\nArthgallo, brother of Elidure, British king,\n\nArthur, king in Britain about the 6th century,\n\nAruns, an Etruscan who killed Camilla,\n\nAsgard, home of the Northern gods,\n\nAshtaroth, a cruel spirit, called by enchantment to bring Rinaldo\nto death,\n\nAske, the first man, made from an ash tree,\n\nAstolpho of England, one of Charlemagne's knights,\n\nAstraea, goddess of justice, daughter of Astraeus and Eos,\n\nAstyages, an assailant of Perseus,\n\nAstyanax, son of Hector of Troy, established kingdom of Messina in\nItaly,\n\nAsuias, opponents of the Braminical gods,\n\nAtalanta, beautiful daughter of King of Icaria, loved and won in a\nfoot race by Hippomenes,\n\nAte, the goddess of infatuation, mischief and guilt,\n\nAthamas, son of Aeolus and Enarete, and king of Orchomenus, in\nBoeotia, SEE Ino\n\nAthene, tutelary goddess of Athens, the same as Minerva,\n\nAthens, the capital of Attica, about four miles from the sea,\nbetween the small rivers Cephissus and Ilissus,\n\nAthor, Egyptian deity, progenitor of Isis and Osiris,\n\nAthos, the mountainous peninsula, also called Acte, which projects\nfrom Chalcidice in Macedonia,\n\nAtlantes, foster father of Rogero, a powerful magician,\n\nAtlantis, according to an ancient tradition, a great island west\nof the Pillars of Hercules, in the ocean, opposite Mount Atlas,\n\nAtlas, a Titan, who bore the heavens on his shoulders, as\npunishment for opposing the gods, one of the sons of Iapetus,\n\nAtlas, Mount, general name for range in northern Africa,\n\nAtropos, one of the Fates\n\nAttica, a state in ancient Greece,\n\nAudhumbla, the cow from which the giant Ymir was nursed. Her milk\nwas frost melted into raindrops,\n\nAugean stables, cleansed by Hercules,\n\nAugeas, king of Elis,\n\nAugustan age, reign of Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar, famed for\nmany great authors,\n\nAugustus, the first imperial Caesar, who ruled the Roman Empire 31\nBC--14 AD,\n\nAulis, port in Boeotia, meeting place of Greek expedition against\nTroy,\n\nAurora, identical with Eos, goddess of the dawn,\n\nAurora Borealis, splendid nocturnal luminosity in northern sky,\ncalled Northern Lights, probably electrical,\n\nAutumn, attendant of Phoebus, the Sun,\n\nAvalon, land of the Blessed, an earthly paradise in the Western\nSeas, burial place of King Arthur,\n\nAvatar, name for any of the earthly incarnations of Vishnu, the\nPreserver (Hindu god),\n\nAventine, Mount, one of the Seven Hills of Rome,\n\nAvernus, a miasmatic lake close to the promontory between Cumae\nand Puteoli, filling the crater of an extinct volcano, by the\nancients thought to be the entrance to the infernal regions,\n\nAvicenna, celebrated Arabian physician and philosopher,\n\nAya, mother of Rinaldo,\n\nAymon, Duke, father of Rinaldo and Bradamante,\n\nB\n\nBaal, king of Tyre,\n\nBabylonian River, dried up when Phaeton drove the sun chariot,\n\nBacchanali a, a feast to Bacchus that was permitted to occur but\nonce in three years, attended by most shameless orgies,\n\nBacchanals, devotees and festal dancers of Bacchus,\n\nBacchus (Dionysus), god of wine and revelry,\n\nBadon, battle of, Arthur's final victory over the Saxons,\n\nBagdemagus, King, a knight of Arthur's time,\n\nBaldur, son of Odin, and representing in Norse mythology the sun\ngod,\n\nBalisardo, Orlando's sword,\n\nBan, King of Brittany, ally of Arthur, father of Launcelot,\n\nBards, minstrels of Welsh Druids,\n\nBasilisk SEE Cockatrice\n\nBaucis, wife of Philemon, visited by Jupiter and Mercury,\n\nBayard, wild horse subdued by Rinaldo,\n\nBeal, Druids' god of life,\n\nBedivere, Arthur's knight,\n\nBedver, King Arthur's butler, made governor of Normandy,\n\nBedwyr, knightly comrade of Geraint,\n\nBelisarda, Rogero's sword,\n\nBellerophon, demigod, conqueror of the Chimaera,\n\nBellona, the Roman goddess of war, represented as the sister or\nwife of Mars,\n\nBeltane, Druidical fire festival,\n\nBelus, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and Libya or Eurynome, twin\nbrother of Agenor,\n\nBendigeid Vran, King of Britain,\n\nBeowulf, hero and king of the Swedish Geats,\n\nBeroe, nurse of Semele,\n\nBertha, mother of Orlando,\n\nBifrost, rainbow bridge between the earth and Asgard\n\nBladud, inventor, builder of the city of Bath,\n\nBlamor, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBleoberis, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBoeotia, state in ancient Greece, capital city Thebes,\n\nBohort, King, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBona Dea, a Roman divinity of fertility,\n\nBootes, also called Areas, son of Jupiter and Calisto, changed to\nconstellation of Ursa Major,\n\nBoreas, North wind, son of Aeolus and Aurora,\n\nBosporus (Bosphorus), the Cow-ford, named for Io, when as a heifer\nshe crossed that strait,\n\nBradamante, sister to Rinaldo, a female warrior,\n\nBrademagus, King, father of Sir Maleagans,\n\nBragi, Norse god of poetry,\n\nBrahma, the Creator, chief god of Hindu religion,\n\nBranwen, daughter of Llyr, King of Britain, wife of Mathclch,\n\nBreciliande, forest of, where Vivian enticed Merlin,\n\nBrengwain, maid of Isoude the Fair\n\nBrennus, son of Molmutius, went to Gaul, became King of the\nAllobroges,\n\nBreuse, the Pitiless, a caitiff knight,\n\nBriareus, hundred armed giant,\n\nBrice, Bishop, sustainer of Arthur when elected king,\n\nBrigliadoro, Orlando's horse,\n\nBriseis, captive maid belonging to Achilles,\n\nBritto, reputed ancestor of British people,\n\nBruhier, Sultan of Arabia,\n\nBrunello, dwarf, thief, and king\n\nBrunhild, leader of the Valkyrie,\n\nBrutus, great grandson of Aeneas, and founder of city of New Troy\n(London), SEE Pandrasus\n\nBryan, Sir, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBuddha, called The Enlightened, reformer of Brahmanism, deified\nteacher of self abnegation, virtue, reincarnation, Karma\n(inevitable sequence of every act), and Nirvana (beatific\nabsorption into the Divine), lived about\n\nByblos, in Egypt,\n\nByrsa, original site of Carthage,\n\nC\n\nCacus, gigantic son of Vulcan, slain by Hercules, whose captured\ncattle he stole,\n\nCadmus, son of Agenor, king of Phoenicia, and of Telephassa, and\nbrother of Europa, who, seeking his sister, carried off by\nJupiter, had strange adventures--sowing in the ground teeth of a\ndragon he had killed, which sprang up armed men who slew each\nother, all but five, who helped Cadmus to found the city of\nThebes,\n\nCaduceus, Mercury's staff,\n\nCadwallo, King of Venedotia (North Wales),\n\nCaerleon, traditional seat of Arthur's court,\n\nCaesar, Julius, Roman lawyer, general, statesman and author,\nconquered and consolidated Roman territory, making possible the\nEmpire,\n\nCaicus, a Greek river,\n\nCairns, Druidical store piles,\n\nCalais, French town facing England,\n\nCalchas, wisest soothsayer among the Greeks at Troy,\n\nCaliburn, a sword of Arthur,\n\nCalliope, one of the nine Muses\n\nCallisto, an Arcadian nymph, mother of Arcas (SEE Bootes), changed\nby Jupiter to constellation Ursa Minor,\n\nCalpe, a mountain in the south of Spain, on the strait between the\nAtlantic and Mediterranean, now Rock of Gibraltar,\n\nCalydon, home of Meleager,\n\nCalypso, queen of Island of Ogyia, where Ulysses was wrecked and\nheld seven years,\n\nCamber, son of Brutus, governor of West Albion (Wales),\n\nCamelot, legendary place in England where Arthur's court and\npalace were located,\n\nCamenae, prophetic nymphs, belonging to the religion of ancient\nItaly,\n\nCamilla, Volscian maiden, huntress and Amazonian warrior, favorite\nof Diana,\n\nCamlan, battle of, where Arthur was mortally wounded,\n\nCanterbury, English city,\n\nCapaneus, husband of Evadne, slain by Jupiter for disobedience,\n\nCapet, Hugh, King of France (987-996 AD),\n\nCaradoc Briefbras, Sir, great nephew of King Arthur,\n\nCarahue, King of Mauretania,\n\nCarthage, African city, home of Dido\n\nCassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, and twin sister of\nHelenus, a prophetess, who foretold the coming of the Greeks but\nwas not believed,\n\nCassibellaunus, British chieftain, fought but not conquered by\nCaesar,\n\nCassiopeia, mother of Andromeda,\n\nCastalia, fountain of Parnassus, giving inspiration to Oracular\npriestess named Pythia,\n\nCastalian Cave, oracle of Apollo,\n\nCastes (India),\n\nCastor and Pollux--the Dioscuri, sons of Jupiter and Leda,--\nCastor a horseman, Pollux a boxer (SEE Gemini),\n\nCaucasus, Mount\n\nCavall, Arthur's favorite dog,\n\nCayster, ancient river,\n\nCebriones, Hector's charioteer,\n\nCecrops, first king of Athens,\n\nCelestials, gods of classic mythology,\n\nCeleus, shepherd who sheltered Ceres, seeking Proserpine, and\nwhose infant son Triptolemus was in gratitude made great by Ceres,\n\nCellini, Benvenuto, famous Italian sculptor and artificer in\nmetals,\n\nCeltic nations, ancient Gauls and Britons, modern Bretons, Welsh,\nIrish and Gaelic Scotch,\n\nCentaurs, originally an ancient race, inhabiting Mount Pelion in\nThessaly, in later accounts represented as half horses and half\nmen, and said to have been the offspring of Ixion and a cloud,\n\nCephalus, husband of beautiful but jealous Procris,\n\nCephe us, King of Ethiopians, father of Andromeda,\n\nCephisus, a Grecian stream,\n\nCerberus, three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to Hades,\ncalled a son of Typhaon and Echidna\n\nCERES (See Demeter)\n\nCESTUS, the girdle of Venus\n\nCEYX, King of Thessaly (See Halcyone)\n\nCHAOS, original Confusion, personified by Greeks as most ancient\nof the gods\n\nCHARLEMAGNE, king of the Franks and emperor of the Romans\n\nCHARLES MARTEL', king of the Franks, grandfather of Charlemagne,\ncalled Martel (the Hammer) from his defeat of the Saracens at\nTours\n\nCHARLOT, son of Charlemagne\n\nCHARON, son of Erebos, conveyed in his boat the shades of the dead\nacross the rivers of the lower world\n\nCHARYB'DIS, whirlpool near the coast of Sicily, See Scylla\n\nCHIMAERA, a fire breathing monster, the fore part of whose body\nwas that of a lion, the hind part that of a dragon, and the middle\nthat of a goat, slain by Bellerophon\n\nCHINA, Lamas (priests) of\n\nCHOS, island in the Grecian archipelago\n\nCHIRON, wisest of all the Centaurs, son of Cronos (Saturn) and\nPhilyra, lived on Mount Pelion, instructor of Grecian heroes\n\nCHRYSEIS, Trojan maid, taken by Agamemnon\n\nCHRYSES, priest of Apollo, father of Chryseis\n\nCICONIANS, inhabitants of Ismarus, visited by Ulysses\n\nCIMBRI, an ancient people of Central Europe\n\nCimmeria, a land of darkness\n\nCimon, Athenian general\n\nCirce, sorceress, sister of Aeetes\n\nCithaeron, Mount, scene of Bacchic worship\n\nClarimunda, wife of Huon\n\nClio, one of the Muses\n\nCloridan, a Moor\n\nClotho, one of the Fates\n\nClymene, an ocean nymph\n\nClytemnestra, wife of Agamemnon, killed by Orestes\n\nClytie, a water nymph, in love with Apollo\n\nCnidos, ancient city of Asia Minor, seat of worship of Aphrodite\n(Venus)\n\nCockatrice (or Basilisk), called King of Serpents, supposed to\nkill with its look\n\nCocytus, a river of Hades\n\nColchis, a kingdom east of the Black Sea\n\nColophon, one of the seven cities claiming the birth of Homer\n\nColumba, St, an Irish Christian missionary to Druidical parts of\nScotland\n\nConan, Welsh king\n\nConstantine, Greek emperor\n\nCordeilla, daughter of the mythical King Leir\n\nCorineus, a Trojan warrior in Albion\n\nCornwall, southwest part of Britain\n\nCortana, Ogier's sword\n\nCorybantes, priests of Cybele, or Rhea, in Phrygia, who\ncelebrated her worship with dances, to the sound of the drum and\nthe cymbal, 143\n\nCrab, constellation\n\nCranes and their enemies, the Pygmies, of Ibycus\n\nCreon, king of Thebes\n\nCrete, one of the largest islands of the Mediterranean Sea, lying\nsouth of the Cyclades\n\nCreusa, daughter of Priam, wife of Aeneas\n\nCrocale, a nymph of Diana\n\nCromlech, Druidical altar\n\nCronos, See Saturn\n\nCrotona, city of Italy\n\nCuchulain, Irish hero, called the \"Hound of Ireland,\"\n\nCuldees', followers of St. Columba, Cumaean Sibyl, seeress\nof Cumae, consulted by Aeneas, sold Sibylline books to Tarquin\n\nCupid, child of Venus and god of love\n\nCuroi of Kerry, wise man\n\nCyane, river, opposed Pluto's passage to Hades\n\nCybele (Rhea)\n\nCyclopes, creatures with circular eyes, of whom Homer speaks as a\ngigantic and lawless race of shepherds in Sicily, who devoured\nhuman beings, they helped Vulcan to forge the thunderbolts of Zeus\nunder Aetna\n\nCymbeline, king of ancient Britain\n\nCynosure (Dog's tail), the Pole star, at tail of Constellation\nUrsa Minor\n\nCynthian mountain top, birthplace of Artemis (Diana) and Apollo\n\nCyprus, island off the coast of Syria, sacred to Aphrodite\n\nCyrene, a nymph, mother of Aristaeus\n\nDaedalus, architect of the Cretan Labyrinth, inventor of sails\n\nDaguenet, King Arthur's fool\n\nDalai Lama, chief pontiff of Thibet\n\nDanae, mother of Perseus by Jupiter\n\nDanaides, the fifty daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, who were\nbetrothed to the fifty sons of Aegyptus, but were commanded by\ntheir father to slay each her own husband on the marriage night\n\nDanaus (See Danaides)\n\nDaphne, maiden loved by Apollo, and changed into a laurel tree\n\nDardanelles, ancient Hellespont\n\nDardanus, progenitor of the Trojan kings\n\nDardinel, prince of Zumara\n\nDawn, See Aurora\n\nDay, an attendant on Phoebus, the Sun\n\nDay star (Hesperus)\n\nDeath, See Hela\n\nDeiphobus, son of Priam and Hecuba, the bravest brother of Paris\n\nDejanira, wife of Hercules\n\nDelos, floating island, birthplace of Apollo and Diana\n\nDelphi, shrine of Apollo, famed for its oracles\n\nDemeter, Greek goddess of marriage and human fertility, identified\nby Romans with Ceres\n\nDemeha, South Wales\n\nDemodocus, bard of Alomous, king of the Phaeaeians\n\nDeucalion, king of Thessaly, who with his wife Pyrrha were the\nonly pair surviving a deluge sent by Zeus\n\nDia, island of\n\nDiana (Artemis), goddess of the moon and of the chase, daughter of\nJupiter and Latona\n\nDiana of the Hind, antique sculpture in the Louvre, Paris\n\nDiana, temple of\n\nDictys, a sailor\n\nDidier, king of the Lombards\n\nDido, queen of Tyre and Carthage, entertained the shipwrecked\nAeneas\n\nDiomede, Greek hero during Trojan War\n\nDione, female Titan, mother of Zeus, of Aphrodite (Venus)\n\nDionysus See Bacchus\n\nDioscuri, the Twins (See Castor and Pollux)\n\nDirce, wife of Lycus, king of Thebes, who ordered Amphion and\nZethus to tie Antiope to a wild bull, but they, learning Antiope\nto be their mother, so treated Dirce herself\n\nDis See Pluto\n\nDiscord, apple of, See Eris.\n\nDiscordia, See Eris.\n\nDodona, site of an oracle of Zeus (Jupiter)\n\nDorceus, a dog of Diana\n\nDoris, wife of Nereus\n\nDragon's teeth sown by Cadmus\n\nDruids, ancient Celtic priests\n\nDryades (or Dryads), See Wood nymphs\n\nDryope, changed to a lotus plant, for plucking a lotus--enchanted\nform of the nymph Lotis\n\nDubricius, bishop of Caerleon,\n\nDudon, a knight, comrade of Astolpho,\n\nDunwallo Molmu'tius, British king and lawgiver\n\nDurindana, sword of Orlando or Rinaldo\n\nDwarfs in Wagner's Nibelungen Ring\n\nE\n\nEarth (Gaea); goddess of the\n\nEbudians, the\n\nEcho, nymph of Diana, shunned by Narcissus, faded to nothing but a\nvoice\n\nEcklenlied, the\n\nEddas, Norse mythological records,\n\nEderyn, son of Nudd\n\nEgena, nymph of the Fountain\n\nEisteddfod, session of Welsh bards and minstrels\n\nElectra, the lost one of the Pleiades, also, sister of Orestes\n\nEleusian Mysteries, instituted by Ceres, and calculated to awaken\nfeelings of piety and a cheerful hope of better life in the future\n\nEleusis, Grecian city\n\nElgin Marbles, Greek sculptures from the Parthenon of Athens, now\nin British Museum, London, placed there by Lord Elgin\n\nEliaures, enchanter\n\nElidure, a king of Britain\n\nElis, ancient Greek city\n\nElli, old age; the one successful wrestler against Thor\n\nElphin, son of Gwyddiro\n\nElves, spiritual beings, of many powers and dispositions--some\nevil, some good\n\nElvidnir, the ball of Hela\n\nElysian Fields, the land of the blest\n\nElysian Plain, whither the favored of the gods were taken without\ndeath\n\nElysium, a happy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor\nram. Hither favored heroes, like Menelaus, pass without dying, and\nlive happy under the rule of Rhadamanthus. In the Latin poets\nElysium is part of the lower world, and the residence of the\nshades of the blessed\n\nEmbla, the first woman\n\nEnseladus, giant defeated by Jupiter\n\nEndymion, a beautiful youth beloved by Diana\n\nEnid, wife of Geraint\n\nEnna, vale of home of Proserpine\n\nEnoch, the patriarch\n\nEpidaurus, a town in Argolis, on the Saronic gulf, chief seat of\nthe worship of Aeculapius, whose temple was situated near the town\n\nEpimetheus, son of Iapetus, husband of Pandora, with his brother\nPrometheus took part in creation of man\n\nEpirus, country to the west of Thessaly, lying along the Adriatic\nSea\n\nEpopeus, a sailor\n\nErato, one of the Muses\n\nErbin of Cornwall, father of Geraint\n\nErebus, son of Chaos, region of darkness, entrance to Hades\n\nEridanus, river\n\nErinys, one of the Furies\n\nEriphyle, sister of Polynices, bribed to decide on war, in which\nher husband was slain\n\nEris (Discordia), goddess of discord. At the wedding of Peleus and\nThetis, Eris being uninvited threw into the gathering an apple\n\"For the Fairest,\" which was claimed by Hera (Juno), Aphrodite\n(Venus) and Athena (Minerva) Paris, being called upon for\njudgment, awarded it to Aphrodite\n\nErisichthon, an unbeliever, punished by famine\n\nEros See Cupid\n\nErytheia, island\n\nEryx, a mount, haunt of Venus\n\nEsepus, river in Paphlagonia\n\nEstrildis, wife of Locrine, supplanting divorced Guendolen\n\nEteocles, son of Oeipus and Jocasta\n\nEtruscans, ancient people of Italy,\n\nEtzel, king of the Huns\n\nEuboic Sea, where Hercules threw Lichas, who brought him the\npoisoned shirt of Nessus\n\nEude, king of Aquitaine, ally of Charles Martel\n\nEumaeus, swineherd of Aeeas\n\nEumenides, also called Erinnyes, and by the Romans Furiae or\nDiraae, the Avenging Deities, See Furies\n\nEuphorbus, a Trojan, killed by Menelaus\n\nEuphros'yne, one of the Graces\n\nEuropa, daughter of the Phoenician king Agenor, by Zeus the mother\nof Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Sarpedon\n\nEurus, the East wind\n\nEuyalus, a gallant Trojan soldier, who with Nisus entered the\nGrecian camp, both being slain,\n\nEurydice, wife of Orpheus, who, fleeing from an admirer, was\nkilled by a snake and borne to Tartarus, where Orpheus sought her\nand was permitted to bring her to earth if he would not look back\nat her following him, but he did, and she returned to the Shades,\n\nEurylochus, a companion of Ulysses,\n\nEurynome, female Titan, wife of Ophlon\n\nEurystheus, taskmaster of Hercules,\n\nEurytion, a Centaur (See Hippodamia),\n\nEuterpe, Muse who presided over music,\n\nEvadne, wife of Capaneus, who flung herself upon his funeral pile\nand perished with him\n\nEvander, Arcadian chief, befriending Aeneas in Italy,\n\nEvnissyen, quarrelsome brother of Branwen,\n\nExcalibar, sword of King Arthur,\n\nF\n\nFafner, a giant turned dragon, treasure stealer, by the Solar\nTheory simply the Darkness who steals the day,\n\nFalerina, an enchantress,\n\nFasolt, a giant, brother of Fafner, and killed by him,\n\n\"Fasti,\" Ovid's, a mythological poetic calendar,\n\nFATA MORGANA, a mirage\n\nFATES, the three, described as daughters of Night--to indicate the\ndarkness and obscurity of human destiny--or of Zeus and Themis,\nthat is, \"daughters of the just heavens\" they were Clo'tho, who\nspun the thread of life, Lach'esis, who held the thread and fixed\nits length and At'ropos, who cut it off\n\nFAUNS, cheerful sylvan deities, represented in human form, with\nsmall horns, pointed ears, and sometimes goat's tail\n\nFAUNUS, son of Picus, grandson of Saturnus, and father of Latinus,\nworshipped as the protecting deity of agriculture and of\nshepherds, and also as a giver of oracles\n\nFAVONIUS, the West wind\n\nFEAR\n\nFENRIS, a wolf, the son of Loki the Evil Principle of Scandinavia,\nsupposed to have personated the element of fire, destructive\nexcept when chained\n\nFENSALIR, Freya's palace, called the Hall of the Sea, where were\nbrought together lovers, husbands, and wives who had been\nseparated by death\n\nFERRAGUS, a giant, opponent of Orlando\n\nFERRAU, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nFERREX. brother of Porrex, the two sons of Leir\n\nFIRE WORSHIPPERS, of ancient Persia, See Parsees FLOLLO, Roman\ntribune in Gaul\n\nFLORA, Roman goddess of flowers and spring\n\nFLORDELIS, fair maiden beloved by Florismart\n\nFLORISMART, Sir, a brave knight,\n\nFLOSSHILDA, one of the Rhine daughters\n\nFORTUNATE FIELDS\n\nFORTUNATE ISLANDS (See Elysian Plain)\n\nFORUM, market place and open square for public meetings in Rome,\nsurrounded by court houses, palaces, temples, etc\n\nFRANCUS, son of Histion, grandson of Japhet, great grandson of\nNoah, legendary ancestor of the Franks, or French\n\nFREKI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nFREY, or Freyr, god of the sun\n\nFREYA, Norse goddess of music, spring, and flowers\n\nFRICKA, goddess of marriage\n\nFRIGGA, goddess who presided over smiling nature, sending\nsunshine, rain, and harvest\n\nFROH, one of the Norse gods\n\nFRONTI'NO, Rogero's horse\n\nFURIES (Erinnyes), the three retributive spirits who punished\ncrime, represented as snaky haired old woman, named Alecto,\nMegaeira, and Tisiphone\n\nFUSBERTA, Rinaldo's sword\n\nG\n\nGAEA, or Ge, called Tellus by the Romans, the personification of\nthe earth, described as the first being that sprang fiom Chaos,\nand gave birth to Uranus (Heaven) and Pontus (Sea)\n\nGAHARIET, knight of Arthur's court\n\nGAHERIS, knight\n\nGALAFRON, King of Cathay, father of Angelica\n\nGALAHAD, Sir, the pure knight of Arthur's Round Table, who safely\ntook the Siege Perilous (which See)\n\nGALATEA, a Nereid or sea nymph\n\nGALATEA, statue carved and beloved by Pygmalion\n\nGALEN, Greek physician and philosophical writer\n\nGALLEHANT, King of the Marches\n\nGAMES, national athletic contests in Greece--Olympian, at Olympia,\nPythian, near Delphi, seat of Apollo's oracle, Isthmian, on the\nCorinthian Isthmus, Nemean, at Nemea in Argolis\n\nGAN, treacherous Duke of Maganza\n\nGANELON of Mayence, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nGANGES, river in India\n\nGANO, a peer of Charlemagne\n\nGANYMEDE, the most beautiful of all mortals, carried off to\nOlympus that he might fill the cup of Zeus and live among the\nimmortal gods\n\nGARETH, Arthur's knight\n\nGAUDISSO, Sultan\n\nGAUL, ancient France\n\nGAUTAMA, Prince, the Buddha\n\nGAWAIN, Arthur's knight\n\nGAWL, son of Clud, suitor for Rhiannon\n\nGEMINI (See Castor), constellation created by Jupiter from the\ntwin brothers after death, 158\n\nGENGHIS Khan, Tartar conqueror\n\nGENIUS, in Roman belief, the protective Spirit of each individual\nman, See Juno\n\nGEOFFREY OF MON'MOUTH, translator into Latin of the Welsh History\nof the Kings of Britain (1150)\n\nGERAINT, a knight of King Arthur\n\nGERDA, wife of Frey\n\nGERI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nGERYON, a three bodied monster\n\nGESNES, navigator sent for Isoude the Fair\n\nGIALLAR HORN, the trumpet that Heimdal will blow at the judgment\nday\n\nGIANTS, beings of monstrous size and of fearful countenances,\nrepresented as in constant opposition to the gods, in Wagner's\nNibelungen Ring\n\nGIBICHUNG RACE, ancestors of Alberich\n\nGIBRALTAR, great rock and town at southwest corner of Spain (See\nPillars of Hercules)\n\nGILDAS, a scholar of Arthur's court\n\nGIRARD, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nGLASTONBURY, where Arthur died\n\nGLAUCUS, a fisherman, loving Scylla\n\nGLEIPNIR, magical chain on the wolf Fenris\n\nGLEWLWYD, Arthur's porter\n\nGOLDEN FLEECE, of ram used for escape of children of Athamas,\nnamed Helle and Phryxus (which See), after sacrifice of ram to\nJupiter, fleece was guarded by sleepless dragon and gained by\nJason and Argonauts (which See, also Helle)\n\nGONERIL, daughter of Leir\n\nGORDIAN KNOT, tying up in temple the wagon of Gordius, he who\ncould untie it being destined to be lord of Asia, it was cut by\nAlexander the Great, 48\n\nGordius, a countryman who, arriving in Phrygia in a wagon, was\nmade king by the people, thus interpreting an oracle, 48\n\nGorgons, three monstrous females, with huge teeth, brazen claws\nand snakes for hair, sight of whom turned beholders to stone,\nMedusa, the most famous, slain by Perseus\n\nGorlois, Duke of Tintadel\n\nGouvernail, squire of Isabella, queen of Lionesse, protector of\nher son Tristram while young, and his squire in knighthood\n\nGraal, the Holy, cup from which the Saviour drank at Last Supper,\ntaken by Joseph of Arimathea to Europe, and lost, its recovery\nbecoming a sacred quest for Arthur's knights\n\nGraces, three goddesses who enhanced the enjoyments of life by\nrefinement and gentleness; they were Aglaia (brilliance),\nEuphrosyne (joy), and Thalia (bloom)\n\nGradas'so, king of Sericane\n\nGraeae, three gray haired female watchers for the Gorgons, with\none movable eye and one tooth between the three\n\nGrand Lama, Buddhist pontiff in Thibet\n\nGrendel, monster slain by Beowulf\n\nGryphon (griffin), a fabulous animal, with the body of a lion and\nthe head and wings of an eagle, dwelling in the Rhipaean\nmountains, between the Hyperboreans and the one eyed Arimaspians,\nand guarding the gold of the North,\n\nGuebers, Persian fire worshippers,\n\nGuendolen, wife of Locrine,\n\nGuenevere, wife of King Arthur, beloved by Launcelot,\n\nGuerin, lord of Vienne, father of Oliver,\n\nGuiderius, son of Cymbeline,\n\nGuillamurius, king in Ireland,\n\nGuimier, betrothed of Caradoc,\n\nGullinbursti, the boar drawing Frey's car,\n\nGulltopp, Heimdell's horse,\n\nGunfasius, King of the Orkneys,\n\nGanther, Burgundian king, brother of Kriemhild,\n\nGutrune, half sister to Hagen,\n\nGwern son of Matholch and Branwen,\n\nGwernach the Giant,\n\nGwiffert Petit, ally of Geraint,\n\nGwyddno, Garanhir, King of Gwaelod,\n\nGwyr, judge in the court of Arthur,\n\nGyoll, river,\n\nH\n\nHades, originally the god of the nether world--the name later\nused to designate the gloomy subterranean land of the dead,\n\nHaemon, son of Creon of Thebes, and lover of Antigone,\n\nHaemonian city,\n\nHaemus, Mount, northern boundary of Thrace,\n\nHagan, a principal character in the Nibelungen Lied, slayer of\nSiegfried,\n\nHALCYONE, daughter of Aeneas, and the beloved wife of Ceyx, who,\nwhen he was drowned, flew to his floating body, and the pitying\ngods changed them both to birds (kingfishers), who nest at sea\nduring a certain calm week in winter (\"halcyon weather\")\n\nHAMADRYADS, tree-nymphs or wood-nymphs, See Nymphs\n\nHARMONIA, daughter of Mars and Venus, wife of Cadmus\n\nHAROUN AL RASCHID, Caliph of Arabia, contemporary of Charlemagne\n\nHARPIES, monsters, with head and bust of woman, but wings, legs\nand tail of birds, seizing souls of the wicked, or punishing\nevildoers by greedily snatching or defiling their food\n\nHARPOCRATES, Egyptian god, Horus\n\nHEBE, daughter of Juno, cupbearer to the gods\n\nHEBRUS, ancient name of river Maritzka\n\nHECATE, a mighty and formidable divinity, supposed to send at\nnight all kinds of demons and terrible phantoms from the lower\nworld\n\nHECTOR, son of Priam and champion of Troy\n\nHECTOR, one of Arthur's knights\n\nHECTOR DE MARYS', a knight\n\nHECUBA, wife of Priam, king of Troy, to whom she bore Hector,\nParis, and many other children\n\nHEGIRA, flight of Mahomet from Mecca to Medina (622 AD), era from\nwhich Mahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of Christ\n\nHEIDRUN, she goat, furnishing mead for slain heroes in Valhalla\n\nHEIMDALL, watchman of the gods\n\nHEL, the lower world of Scandinavia, to which were consigned those\nwho had not died in battle\n\nHELA (Death), the daughter of Loki and the mistress of the\nScandinavian Hel\n\nHELEN, daughter of Jupiter and Leda, wife of Menelaus, carried\noff by Paris and cause of the Trojan War\n\nHELENUS, son of Priam and Hecuba, celebrated for his prophetic\npowers\n\nHELIADES, sisters of Phaeton\n\nHELICON, Mount, in Greece, residence of Apollo and the Muses,\nwith fountains of poetic inspiration, Aganippe and Hippocrene\n\nHELIOOPOLIS, city of the Sun, in Egypt\n\nHELLAS, Gieece\n\nHELLE, daughter of Thessalian King Athamas, who, escaping from\ncruel father with her brother Phryxus, on ram with golden fleece,\nfell into the sea strait since named for her (See Golden Fleece)\n\nHELLESPONt, narrow strait between Europe and Asia Minor, named for\nHelle\n\nHENGIST, Saxon invader of Britain, 449 AD\n\nHEPHAESTOS, See VULCAN\n\nHERA, called Juno by the Romans, a daughter of Cronos (Saturn)\nand Rhea, and sister and wife of Jupiter, See JUNO\n\nHERCULES, athletic hero, son of Jupiter and Alcmena, achieved\ntwelve vast labors and many famous deeds\n\nHEREWARD THE WAKE, hero of the Saxons\n\nHERMES (Mercury), messenger of the gods, deity of commerce,\nscience, eloquence, trickery, theft, and skill generally\n\nHERMIONE, daughter of Menelaus and Helen\n\nHERMOD, the nimble, son of Odin\n\nHERO, a priestess of Venus, beloved of Leander\n\nHERODOTUS, Greek historian\n\nHESIOD, Greek poet\n\nHESPERIA, ancient name for Italy\n\nHESPERIDES (See Apples of the Hesperides)\n\nHESPERUS, the evening star (also called Day Star)\n\nHESTIA, cilled Vesta by the Romans, the goddess of the hearth\n\nHILDEBRAND, German magician and champion\n\nHINDU TRIAD, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva\n\nHIPPOCRENE (See Helicon)\n\nHIPPODAMIA, wife of Pirithous, at whose wedding the Centaurs\noffered violence to the bride, causing a great battle\n\nHIPPOGRIFF, winged horse, with eagle's head and claws\n\nHIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons\n\nHippolytus, son of Thesus\n\nHIPPOMENES, who won Atalanta in foot race, beguiling her with\ngolden apples thrown for her to\n\nHISTION, son of Japhet\n\nHODUR, blind man, who, fooled by\n\nLoki, threw a mistletoe twig at Baldur, killing him\n\nHOEL, king of Brittany\n\nHOMER, the blind poet of Greece, about 850 B C\n\nHOPE (See PANDORA)\n\nHORAE See HOURS\n\nHORSA, with Hengist, invader of Britain\n\nHORUS, Egyptian god of the sun\n\nHOUDAIN, Tristram's dog\n\nHRINGHAM, Baldur's ship\n\nHROTHGAR, king of Denmark\n\nHUGI, who beat Thialfi in foot races\n\nHUGIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nHUNDING, husband of Sieglinda\n\nHUON, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nHYACINTHUS, a youth beloved by Apollo, and accidentally killed by\nhim, changed in death to the flower, hyacinth\n\nHYADES, Nysaean nymphs, nurses of infant Bacchus, rewarded by\nbeing placed as cluster of stars in the heavens\n\nHYALE, a nymph of Diana\n\nHYDRA, nine headed monster slain by Hercules\n\nHYGEIA, goddess of health, daughter of Aesculapius\n\nHYLAS, a youth detained by nymphs of spring where he sought water\n\nHYMEN, the god of marriage, imagined as a handsome youth and\ninvoked in bridal songs\n\nHYMETTUS, mountain in Attica, near Athens, celebrated for its\nmarble and its honey\n\nHYPERBOREANS, people of the far North\n\nHYPERION, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Helios,\nSelene, and Eos, cattle of,\n\nHyrcania, Prince of, betrothed to Clarimunda\n\nHyrieus, king in Greece,\n\nI\n\nIapetus, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Atlas,\nPrometheus, Epimetheus, and Menoetius,\n\nIasius, father of Atalanta\n\nIbycus, a poet, story of, and the cranes\n\nIcaria, island of the Aegean Sea, one of the Sporades\n\nIcarius, Spartan prince, father of Penelope\n\nIcarus, son of Daedalus, he flew too near the sun with artificial\nwings, and, the wax melting, he fell into the sea\n\nIcelos, attendant of Morpheus\n\nIcolumkill SEE Iona\n\nIda, Mount, a Trojan hill\n\nIdaeus, a Trojan herald\n\nIdas, son of Aphareus and Arene, and brother of Lynceus Idu'na,\nwife of Bragi\n\nIgerne, wife of Gorlois, and mother, by Uther, of Arthur\n\nIliad, epic poem of the Trojan War, by Homer\n\nIlioheus, a son of Niobe\n\nIlium SEE Troy\n\nIllyria, Adriatic countries north of Greece\n\nImogen, daughter of Pandrasus, wife of Trojan Brutus\n\nInachus, son of Oceanus and Tethys, and father of Phoroneus and\nIo, also first king of Argos, and said to have given his name to\nthe river Inachus\n\nINCUBUS, an evil spirit, supposed to lie upon persons in their\nsleep\n\nINDRA, Hindu god of heaven, thunder, lightning, storm and rain\n\nINO, wife of Athamas, fleeing from whom with infant son she sprang\ninto the sea and was changed to Leucothea\n\nIO, changed to a heifer by Jupiter\n\nIOBATES, King of Lycia\n\nIOLAUS, servant of Hercules\n\nIOLE, sister of Dryope\n\nIONA, or Icolmkill, a small northern island near Scotland, where\nSt Columba founded a missionary monastery (563 AD)\n\nIONIA, coast of Asia Minor\n\nIPHIGENIA, daughter of Agamemnon, offered as a sacrifice but\ncarried away by Diana\n\nIPHIS, died for love of Anaxarete, 78\n\nIPHITAS, friend of Hercules, killed by him\n\nIRIS, goddess of the rainbow, messenger of Juno and Zeus\n\nIRONSIDE, Arthur's knight\n\nISABELLA, daughter of king of Galicia\n\nISIS, wife of Osiris, described as the giver of death\n\nISLES OF THE BLESSED\n\nISMARUS, first stop of Ulysses, returning from Trojan War\nISME'NOS, a son of Niobe, slain by Apollo\n\nISOLIER, friend of Rinaldo\n\nISOUDE THE FAIR, beloved of Tristram\n\nISOUDE OF THE WHITE HANDS, married to Tristram\n\nISTHMIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nITHACA, home of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nIULUS, son of Aeneas\n\nIVO, Saracen king, befriending Rinaldo\n\nIXION, once a sovereign of Thessaly, sentenced in Tartarus to be\nlashed with serpents to a wheel which a strong wind drove\ncontinually around\n\nJ\n\nJANICULUM, Roman fortress on the Janiculus, a hill on the other\nside of the Tiber\n\nJANUS, a deity from the earliest times held in high estimation by\nthe Romans, temple of\n\nJAPHET (Iapetus)\n\nJASON, leader of the Argonauts, seeking the Golden Fleece\n\nJOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA, who bore the Holy Graal to Europe\n\nJOTUNHEIM, home of the giants in Northern mythology\n\nJOVE (Zeus), chief god of Roman and Grecian mythology, See JUPITER\n\nJOYOUS GARDE, residence of Sir Launcelot of the Lake\n\nJUGGERNAUT, Hindu deity\n\nJUNO, the particular guardian spirit of each woman (See Genius)\n\nJUNO, wife of Jupiter, queen of the gods\n\nJUPITER, JOVIS PATER, FATHER JOVE, JUPITER and JOVE used\ninterchangeably, at Dodona, statue of the Olympian\n\nJUPITER AMMON (See Ammon)\n\nJUPITER CAPITOLINUS, temple of, preserving the Sibylline books\n\nJUSTICE, See THEMIS\n\nK\n\nKADYRIATH, advises King Arthur\n\nKAI, son of Kyner\n\nKALKI, tenth avatar of Vishnu\n\nKAY, Arthur's steward and a knight\n\nKEDALION, guide of Orion\n\nKERMAN, desert of\n\nKICVA, daughter of Gwynn Gloy\n\nKILWICH, son of Kilydd\n\nKILYDD, son of Prince Kelyddon, of Wales\n\nKNEPH, spirit or breath\n\nKNIGHTS, training and life of\n\nKRIEMHILD, wife of Siegfried\n\nKRISHNA, eighth avatar of Vishnu, Hindu deity of fertility in\nnature and mankind\n\nKYNER, father of Kav\n\nKYNON, son of Clydno\n\nL\n\nLABYRINTH, the enclosed maze of passageways where roamed the\nMinotaur of Crete, killed by Theseus with aid of Ariadne\n\nLACHESIS, one of the Fates (which See)\n\nLADY OF THE FOUNTAIN, tale told by Kynon\n\nLAERTES, father of Ulysses\n\nLAESTRYGONIANS, savages attacking Ulysses\n\nLAIUS, King of Thebes\n\nLAMA, holy man of Thibet\n\nLAMPETIA, daughter of Hyperion LAOC'OON, a priest of Neptune, in\nTroy, who warned the Trojans against the Wooden Horse (which See),\nbut when two serpents came out of the sea and strangled him and\nhis two sons, the people listened to the Greek spy Sinon, and\nbrought the fatal Horse into the town\n\nLAODAMIA, daughter of Acastus and wife of Protesilaus\n\nLAODEGAN, King of Carmalide, helped by Arthur and Merlin\n\nLAOMEDON, King of Troy\n\nLAPITHAE, Thessalonians, whose king had invited the Centaurs to\nhis daughter's wedding but who attacked them for offering violence\nto the bride\n\nLARES, household deities\n\nLARKSPUR, flower from the blood of Ajax\n\nLATINUS, ruler of Latium, where Aeneas landed in Italy\n\nLATMOS, Mount, where Diana fell in love with Endymion\n\nLATONA, mother of Apollo\n\nLAUNCELOT, the most famous knight of the Round Table\n\nLAUSUS, son of Mezentius, killed by Aeneas\n\nLAVINIA, daughter of Latinus and wife of Aeneas\n\nLAVINIUM, Italian city named for Lavinia\n\nLAW, See THEMIS\n\nLEANDER, a youth of Abydos, who, swimming the Hellespont to see\nHero, his love, was drowned\n\nLEBADEA, site of the oracle of Trophomus\n\nLEBYNTHOS, Aegean island\n\nLEDA, Queen of Sparta, wooed by Jupiter in the form of a swan\n\nLEIR, mythical King of Britain, original of Shakespeare's Lear\n\nLELAPS, dog of Cephalus\n\nLEMNOS, large island in the Aegean Sea, sacred to Vulcan\n\nLEMURES, the spectres or spirits of the dead\n\nLEO, Roman emperor, Greek prince\n\nLETHE, river of Hades, drinking whose water caused forgetfulness\n\nLEUCADIA, a promontory, whence Sappho, disappointed in love, was\nsaid to have thrown herself into the sea\n\nLEUCOTHEA, a sea goddess, invoked by sailors for protection (See\nIno)\n\nLEWIS, son of Charlemagne\n\nLIBER, ancient god of fruitfulness\n\nLIBETHRA, burial place of Orpheus\n\nLIBYA, Greek name for continent of Africa in general\n\nLIBYAN DESERT, in Africa\n\nLIBYAN OASIS\n\nLICHAS, who brought the shirt of Nessus to Hercules\n\nLIMOURS, Earl of\n\nLINUS, musical instructor of Hercules\n\nLIONEL, knight of the Round Table\n\nLLYR, King of Britain\n\nLOCRINE, son of Brutus in Albion, king of Central England\n\nLOEGRIA, kingdom of (England)\n\nLOGESTILLA, a wise lady, who entertained Rogero and his friends\n\nLOGI, who vanquished Loki in an eating contest\n\nLOKI, the Satan of Norse mythology, son of the giant Farbanti\n\nLOT, King, a rebel chief, subdued by King Arthur, then a loyal\nknight\n\nLOTIS, a nymph, changed to a lotus-plant and in that form plucked\nby Dryope\n\nLOTUS EATERS, soothed to indolence, companions of Ulysses landing\namong them lost all memory of home and had to be dragged away\nbefore they would continue their voyage\n\nLOVE (Eros) issued from egg of Night, and with arrows and torch\nproduced life and joy\n\nLUCAN, one of Arthur's knights\n\nLucius Tiberius, Roman procurator in Britain demanding tribute\nfrom Arthur\n\nLUD, British king, whose capital was called Lud's Town (London)\n\nLUDGATE, city gate where Lud was buried, 387\n\nLUNED, maiden who guided Owain to the Lady of the Fountain\n\nLYCAHAS, a turbulent sailor\n\nLYCAON, son of Priam\n\nLYCIA, a district in Southern Asia Minor\n\nLYCOMODES, king of the Dolopians, who treacherously slew Theseus\n\nLYCUS, usurping King of Thebes\n\nLYNCEUS, one of the sons of Aegyptus\n\nM\n\nMABINOGEON, plural of Mabinogi, fairy tales and romances of the\nWelsh\n\nMABON, son of Modron\n\nMACHAON, son of Aesculapius\n\nMADAN, son of Guendolen\n\nMADOC, a forester of King Arthur\n\nMADOR, Scottish knight\n\nMAELGAN, king who imprisoned Elphin\n\nMAEONIA, ancient Lydia\n\nMAGI, Persian priests\n\nMAHADEVA, same as Siva\n\nMAHOMET, great prophet of Arabia, born in Mecca, 571 AD,\nproclaimed worship of God instead of idols, spread his religion\nthrough disciples and then by force till it prevailed, with\nArabian dominion, over vast regions in Asia, Africa, and Spain in\nEurope\n\nMAIA, daughter of Atlas and Pleione, eldest and most beautiful of\nthe Pleiades\n\nMALAGIGI the Enchanter, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nMALEAGANS, false knight\n\nMALVASIUS, King of Iceland\n\nMAMBRINO, with invisible helmet\n\nMANAWYD DAN, brother of King Vran, of London\n\nMANDRICARDO, son of Agrican\n\nMANTUA, in Italy, birthplace of Virgil\n\nMANU, ancestor of mankind\n\nMARATHON, where Theseus and Pirithous met\n\nMARK, King of Cornwall, husband of Isoude the Fair\n\nMARO See VIRGIL\n\nMARPHISA, sister of Rogero\n\nMARSILIUS, Spanish king, treacherous foe of Charlemagne\n\nMARSYAS, inventor of the flute, who challenged Apollo to musical\ncompetition, and, defeated, was flayed alive\n\nMATSYA, the Fish, first avatar of Vishnu\n\nMEANDER, Grecian river\n\nMEDE, A, princess and sorceress who aided Jason\n\nMEDORO, a young Moor, who wins Angelica\n\nMEDUSA, one of the Gorgons\n\nMEGAERA, one of the Furies\n\nMELAMPUS, a Spartan dog, the first mortal endowed with prophetic\npowers\n\nMELANTHUS, steersman for Bacchus\n\nMELEAGER, one of the Argonauts (See Althaea)\n\nMELIADUS, King of Lionesse, near Cornwall\n\nMELICERTES, infant son of Ino. changed to Palaemon (See Ino,\nLeucothea, and Palasmon)\n\nMELISSA, priestess at Merlin's tomb\n\nMELISSEUS, a Cretan king\n\nMELPOMENE, one of the Muses\n\nMEMNON, the beautiful son of Tithonus and Eos (Aurora), and king\nof the Ethiopians, slain in Trojan War\n\nMEMPHIS, Egyptian city\n\nMENELAUS, son of King of Sparta, husband of Helen\n\nMENOECEUS, son of Creon, voluntary victim in war to gain success\nfor his father\n\nMENTOR, son of Alcimus and a faithful friend of Ulysses\n\nMERCURY (See HERMES)\n\nMERLIN, enchanter\n\nMEROPE, daughter of King of Chios, beloved by Orion\n\nMESMERISM, likened to curative oracle of Aesculapius at Epidaurus\n\nMETABUS, father of Camilla\n\nMETAMORPHOSES, Ovid's poetical legends of mythical\ntransformations, a large source of our knowledge of classic\nmythology\n\nMETANIRA, a mother, kind to Ceres seeking Proserpine\n\nMETEMPSYCHOSIS, transmigration of souls--rebirth of dying men\nand women in forms of animals or human beings\n\nMETIS, Prudence, a spouse of Jupiter\n\nMEZENTIUS, a brave but cruel soldier, opposing Aeneas in Italy\n\nMIDAS\n\nMIDGARD, the middle world of the Norsemen\n\nMIDGARD SERPENT, a sea monster, child of Loki\n\nMILKY WAY, starred path across the sky, believed to be road to\npalace of the gods\n\nMILO, a great athlete\n\nMLON, father of Orlando\n\nMILTON, John, great English poet, whose History of England is here\nlargely used\n\nMIME, one of the chief dwarfs of ancient German mythology\n\nMINERVA (Athene), daughter of Jupiter, patroness of health,\nlearning, and wisdom\n\nMINOS, King of Crete\n\nMINO TAUR, monster killed by Theseus\n\nMISTLETOE, fatal to Baldur\n\nMNEMOSYNE, one of the Muses\n\nMODESTY, statue to\n\nMODRED, nephew of King Arthur\n\nMOLY, plant, powerful against sorcery\n\nMOMUS, a deity whose delight was to jeer bitterly at gods and men\n\nMONAD, the \"unit\" of Pythagoras\n\nMONSTERS, unnatural beings, evilly disposed to men\n\nMONTALBAN, Rinaldo's castle\n\nMONTH, the, attendant upon the Sun\n\nMOON, goddess of, see DIANA\n\nMORAUNT, knight, an Irish champion\n\nMORGANA, enchantress, the Lady of the Lake in \"Orlando Furioso,\"\nsame as Morgane Le Fay in tales of Arthur\n\nMORGANE LE FAY, Queen of Norway, King Arthur's sister, an\nenchantress\n\nMORGAN TUD, Arthur's chief physician\n\nMORPHEUS, son of Sleep and god of dreams\n\nMORTE D'ARTHUr, romance, by Sir Thomas Mallory\n\nMULCIBER, Latin name of Vulcan\n\nMULL, Island of\n\nMUNIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nMUSAEUS, sacred poet, son of Orpheus\n\nMUSES, The, nine goddesses presiding over poetry, etc--Calliope,\nepic poetry, Clio, history, Erato, love poetry, Euterpe, lyric\npoetry; Melpomene, tragedy, Polyhymnia, oratory and sacred song\nTerpsichore, choral song and dance, Thalia, comedy and idyls,\nUrania, astronomy\n\nMUSPELHEIM, the fire world of the Norsemen\n\nMYCENAS, ancient Grecian city, of which Agamemnon was king\n\nMYRDDIN (Merlin)\n\nMYRMIDONS, bold soldiers of Achilles\n\nMYSIA, Greek district on northwest coast of Asia Minor\n\nMYTHOLOGY, origin of, collected myths, describing gods of early\npeoples\n\nN\n\nNAIADS, water nymphs\n\nNAMO, Duke of Bavaria, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nNANNA, wife of Baldur\n\nNANTERS, British king\n\nNANTES, site of Caradoc's castle\n\nNAPE, a dog of Diana\n\nNARCISSUS, who died of unsatisfied love for his own image in the\nwater\n\nNAUSICAA, daughter of King Alcinous, who befriended Ulysses\n\nNAUSITHOUS, king of Phaeacians\n\nNAXOS, Island of\n\nNEGUS, King of Abyssinia\n\nNEMEA, forest devastated by a lion killed by Hercules\n\nNEMEAN GAMES, held in honor of Jupiter and Hercules\n\nNEMEAN LION, killed by Hercules\n\nNEMESIS, goddess of vengeance\n\nNENNIUS, British combatant of Caesar\n\nNEOPTOLEMUS, son of Achilles\n\nNEPENTHE, ancient drug to cause forgetfulness of pain or distress\n\nNEPHELE, mother of Phryxus and Helle\n\nNEPHTHYS, Egyptian goddess\n\nNEPTUNE, identical with Poseidon, god of the sea\n\nNEREIDS, sea nymphs, daughters of Nereus and Doris\n\nNEREUS, a sea god\n\nNESSUS, a centaur killed by Hercules, whose jealous wife sent him\na robe or shirt steeped in the blood of Nessus, which poisoned him\n\nNESTOR, king of Pylos, renowned for his wisdom, justice, and\nknowledge of war\n\nNIBELUNGEN HOARD, treasure seized by Siegfried from the\nNibelungs, buried in the Rhine by Hagan after killing Siegfried,\nand lost when Hagan was killed by Kriemhild, theme of Wagner's\nfour music dramas, \"The Ring of the Nibelungen,\"\n\nNIBELUNGEN LIED, German epic, giving the same nature myth as the\nNorse Volsunga Saga, concerning the Hoard\n\nNIBELUNGEN RING, Wagner's music dramas\n\nNIBELUNGS, the, a race of Northern dwarfs\n\nNIDHOGGE, a serpent in the lower world that lives on the dead\n\nNIFFLEHEIM, mist world of the Norsemen, the Hades of absent\nspirits\n\nNILE, Egyptian river\n\nNIOBE, daughter of Tantalus, proud Queen of Thebes, whose seven\nsons and seven daughters were killed by Apollo and Diana, at which\nAmphion, her husband, killed himself, and Niobe wept until she was\nturned to stone\n\nNISUS, King of Megara\n\nNOAH, as legendary ancestor of French, Roman, German, and British\npeoples\n\nNOMAN, name assumed by Ulysses\n\nNORNS, the three Scandinavian Fates, Urdur (the past), Verdandi\n(the present), and Skuld (the future)\n\nNOTHUNG, magic sword\n\nNOTUS, southwest wind\n\nNOX, daughter of Chaos and sister of Erebus, personification of\nnight\n\nNuma, second king of Rome\n\nNYMPHS, beautiful maidens, lesser divinities of nature Dryads and\nHamadryads, tree nymphs, Naiads, spring, brook, and river nymphs,\nNereids, sea nymphs Oreads, mountain nymphs or hill nymphs\n\nO\n\nOCEANUS, a Titan, ruling watery elements\n\nOCYROE, a prophetess, daughter of Chiron\n\nODERIC\n\nODIN, chief of the Norse gods\n\nODYAR, famous Biscayan hero\n\nODYSSEUS See ULYSSES\n\nODYSSEY, Homer's poem, relating the wanderings of Odysseus\n(Ulysses) on returning from Trojan War\n\nOEDIPUS, Theban hero, who guessed the riddle of the Sphinx (which\nSee), becoming King of Thebes\n\nOENEUS, King of Calydon\n\nOENONE, nymph, married by Paris in his youth, and abandoned for\nHelen\n\nOENOPION, King of Chios\n\nOETA, Mount, scene of Hercules' death\n\nOGIER, the Dane, one of the paladins of Charlemagne\n\nOLIVER, companion of Orlando\n\nOLWEN, wife of Kilwich\n\nOLYMPIA, a small plain in Elis, where the Olympic games were\ncelebrated\n\nOLYMPIADS, periods between Olympic games (four years)\n\nOLYMPIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nOLYMPUS, dwelling place of the dynasty of gods of which Zeus was\nthe head\n\nOMPHALE, queen of Lydia, daughter of Iardanus and wife of Tmolus\n\nOPHION, king of the Titans, who ruled Olympus till dethroned by\nthe gods Saturn and Rhea\n\nOPS See RHEA\n\nORACLES, answers from the gods to questions from seekers for\nknowledge or advice for the future, usually in equivocal form, so\nas to fit any event, also places where such answers were given\nforth usually by a priest or priestess\n\nORC, a sea monster, foiled by Rogero when about to devour Angelica\n\nOREADS, nymphs of mountains and hills\n\nORESTES, son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, because of his crime\nin killing his mother, he was pursued by the Furies until purified\nby Minerva\n\nORION, youthful giant, loved by Diana, Constellation\n\nORITHYIA, a nymph, seized by Boreas\n\nORLANDO, a famous knight and nephew of Charlemagne\n\nORMUZD (Greek, Oromasdes), son of Supreme Being, source of good\nas his brother Ahriman (Arimanes) was of evil, in Persian or\nZoroastrian religion\n\nORPHEUS, musician, son of Apollo and Calliope, See EURYDICE\n\nOSIRIS, the most beneficent of the Egyptian gods\n\nOSSA, mountain of Thessaly\n\nOSSIAN, Celtic poet of the second or third century\n\nOVID, Latin poet (See Metamorphoses)\n\nOWAIN, knight at King Arthur's court\n\nOZANNA, a knight of Arthur\n\nP\n\nPACTOLUS, river whose sands were changed to gold by Midas\n\nPAEON, a name for both Apollo and Aesculapius, gods of medicine,\n\nPAGANS, heathen\n\nPALADINS or peers, knights errant\n\nPALAEMON, son of Athamas and Ino\n\nPALAMEDES, messenger sent to call Ulysses to the Trojan War\n\nPALAMEDES, Saracen prince at Arthur's court\n\nPALATINE, one of Rome's Seven Hills\n\nPALES, goddess presiding over cattle and pastures\n\nPALINURUS, faithful steersman of Aeeas\n\nPALLADIUM, properly any image of Pallas Athene, but specially\napplied to an image at Troy, which was stolen by Ulysses and\nDiomedes\n\nPALLAS, son of Evander\n\nPALLAS A THE'NE (Minerva)\n\nPAMPHA GUS, a dog of Diana\n\nPAN, god of nature and the universe\n\nPANATHENAEA, festival in honor of Pallas Athene (Minerva)\n\nPANDEAN PIPES, musical instrument of reeds, made by Pan in\nmemory of Syrinx\n\nPANDORA (all gifted), first woman, dowered with gifts by every\ngod, yet entrusted with a box she was cautioned not to open, but,\ncurious, she opened it, and out flew all the ills of humanity,\nleaving behind only Hope, which remained\n\nPANDRASUS, a king in Greece, who persecuted Trojan exiles under\nBrutus, great grandson of Aeneas, until they fought, captured him,\nand, with his daughter Imogen as Brutus' wife, emigrated to Albion\n(later called Britain)\n\nPANOPE, plain of\n\nPANTHUS, alleged earlier incarnation of Pythagoras\n\nPAPHLAGNIA, ancient country in Asia Minor, south of Black Sea\n\nPAPHOS, daughter of Pygmalion and Galatea (both of which, See)\n\nPARCAE See FATES\n\nPARIAHS, lowest caste of Hindus\n\nPARIS, son of Priam and Hecuba, who eloped with Helen (which.\nSee)\n\nPARNASSIAN LAUREl, wreath from Parnassus, crown awarded to\nsuccessful poets\n\nPARNASSUS, mountain near Delphi, sacred to Apollo and the Muses\n\nPARSEES, Persian fire worshippers (Zoroastrians), of whom there\nare still thousands in Persia and India\n\nPARTHENON, the temple of Athene Parthenos (\"the Virgin\") on the\nAcropolis of Athens\n\nPASSEBREUL, Tristram's horse\n\nPATROCLUS, friend of Achilles, killed by Hector\n\nPECHEUR, King, uncle of Perceval\n\nPEERS, the\n\nPEG A SUS, winged horse, born from the sea foam and the blood of\nMedusa\n\nPELEUS, king of the Myrmidons, father of Achilles by Thetis\n\nPELIAS, usurping uncle of Jason\n\nPELION, mountain\n\nPELLEAS, knight of Arthur\n\nPENATES, protective household deities of the Romans\n\nPENDRAGON, King of Britain, elder brother of Uther Pendragon,\nwho succeeded him\n\nPENELOPE, wife of Ulysses, who, waiting twenty years for his\nreturn from the Trojan War, put off the suitors for her hand by\npromising to choose one when her weaving was done, but unravelled\nat night what she had woven by day\n\nPENEUS, river god, river\n\nPENTHESILEA, queen of Amazons\n\nPENTHEUS, king of Thebes, having resisted the introduction of\nthe worship of Bacchus into his kingdom, was driven mad by the god\n\nPENUS, Roman house pantry, giving name to the Penates\n\nPEPIN, father of Charlemagne\n\nPEPLUS, sacred robe of Minerva\n\nPERCEVAL, a great knight of Arthur\n\nPERDIX, inventor of saw and compasses\n\nPERIANDER, King of Corinuh, friend of Arion\n\nPERIPHETES, son of Vulcan, killed by Theseus\n\nPERSEPHONE, goddess of vegetation, 8 See Pioserpine\n\nPERSEUS, son of Jupiter and Danae, slayer of the Gorgon Medusa,\ndeliverer of Andromeda from a sea monster, 116 122, 124, 202\n\nPHAEACIANS, people who entertained Ulysses\n\nPHAEDRA, faithless and cruel wife of Theseus\n\nPHAETHUSA, sister of Phaeton, 244\n\nPHAETON, son of Phoebus, who dared attempt to drive his father's\nsun chariot\n\nPHANTASOS, a son of Somnus, bringing strange images to sleeping\nmen\n\nPHAON, beloved by Sappho\n\nPHELOT, knight of Wales\n\nPHEREDIN, friend of Tristram, unhappy lover of Isoude\n\nPHIDIAS, famous Greek sculptor\n\nPHILEMON, husband of Baucis\n\nPHILOCTETES, warrior who lighted the fatal pyre of Hercules\n\nPHILOE, burial place of Osiris\n\nPHINEUS, betrothed to Andromeda\n\nPHLEGETHON, fiery river of Hades\n\nPHOCIS\n\nPHOEBE, one of the sisters of Phaeton\n\nPHOEBUS (Apollo), god of music, prophecy, and archery, the sun\ngod\n\nPHOENIX, a messenger to Achilles, also, a miraculous bird dying\nin fire by its own act and springing up alive from its own ashes\n\nPHORBAS, a companion of Aeneas, whose form was assumed by Neptune\nin luring Palinuras the helmsman from his roost\n\nPHRYXUS, brother of Helle\n\nPINABEL, knight\n\nPILLARS OF HERCULES, two mountains--Calpe, now the Rock of\nGibraltar, southwest corner of Spain in Europe, and Abyla, facing\nit in Africa across the strait\n\nPINDAR, famous Greek poet\n\nPINDUS, Grecian mountain\n\nPIRENE, celebrated fountain at Corinth\n\nPIRITHOUS, king of the Lapithae in Thessaly, and friend of\nTheseus, husband of Hippodamia\n\nPLEASURE, daughter of Cupid and Psyche\n\nPLEIADES, seven of Diana's nymphs, changed into stars, one being\nlost\n\nPLENTY, the Horn of\n\nPLEXIPPUS, brother of Althea\n\nPLINY, Roman naturalist\n\nPLUTO, the same as Hades, Dis, etc. god of the Infernal Regions\n\nPLUTUS, god of wealth\n\nPO, Italian river\n\nPOLE STAR\n\nPOLITES, youngest son of Priam of Troy\n\nPOLLUX, Castor and (Dioscuri, the Twins) (See Castor)\n\nPOLYDECTES, king of Seriphus\n\nPOLYDORE, slain kinsman of Aeneas, whose blood nourished a bush\nthat bled when broken\n\nPOLYHYMNIA, Muse of oratory and sacred song\n\nPOLYIDUS, soothsayer\n\nPOLYNICES, King of Thebes\n\nPOLYPHEMUS, giant son of Neptune\n\nPOLYXENA, daughter of King Priam of Troy\n\nPOMONA, goddess of fruit trees (See VERTUMNUS)\n\nPORREX and FER'REX, sons of Leir, King of Britain\n\nPORTUNUS, Roman name for Palaemon\n\nPOSEIDON (Neptune), ruler of the ocean\n\nPRECIPICE, threshold of Helas hall\n\nPRESTER JOHN, a rumored priest or presbyter, a Christian pontiff\nin Upper Asia, believed in but never found\n\nPRIAM, king of Troy\n\nPRIWEN, Arthur's shield\n\nPROCRIS, beloved but jealous wife of Cephalus\n\nPROCRUSTES, who seized travellers and bound them on his iron bed,\nstretching the short ones and cutting short the tall, thus also\nhimself served by Theseus\n\nPROETUS, jealous of Bellerophon\n\nPROMETHEUS, creator of man, who stole fire from heaven for man's\nuse\n\nPROSERPINE, the same as Persephone, goddess of all growing\nthings, daughter of Ceres, carried off by Pluto\n\nPROTESILAUS, slain by Hector the Trojan, allowed by the gods to\nreturn for three hours' talk with his widow Laodomia\n\nPROTEUS, the old man of the sea\n\nPRUDENCE (Metis), spouse of Jupiter\n\nPRYDERI, son of Pwyll\n\nPSYCHE, a beautiful maiden, personification of the human soul,\nsought by Cupid (Love), to whom she responded, lost him by\ncuriosity to see him (as he came to her only by night), but\nfinally through his prayers was made immortal and restored to him,\na symbol of immortality\n\nPURANAS, Hindu Scriptures\n\nPWYLL, Prince of Dyved\n\nPYGMALION, sculptor in love with a statue he had made, brought to\nlife by Venus, brother of Queen Dido\n\nPYGMIES, nation of dwarfs, at war with the Cranes\n\nPYLADES, son of Straphius, friend of Orestes\n\nPYRAMUS, who loved Thisbe, next door neighbor, and, their parents\nopposing, they talked through cracks in the house wall, agreeing\nto meet in the near by woods, where Pyramus, finding a bloody veil\nand thinking Thisbe slain, killed himself, and she, seeing his\nbody, killed herself (Burlesqued in Shakespeare's \"Midsummer\nNight's Dream\")\n\nPYRRHA, wife of Deucalion\n\nPYRRHUS (Neoptolemus), son of Achilles\n\nPYTHAGORAS, Greek philosopher (540 BC), who thought numbers to be\nthe essence and principle of all things, and taught transmigration\nof souls of the dead into new life as human or animal beings\n\nPYTHIA, priestess of Apollo at Delphi\n\nPYTHIAN GAMES\n\nPYTHIAN ORACLE\n\nPYTHON, serpent springing from Deluge slum, destroyed by Apollo\n\nQ\n\nQUIRINUS (from quiris, a lance or spear), a war god, said to be\nRomulus, founder of Rome\n\nR\n\nRABICAN, noted horse\n\nRAGNAROK, the twilight (or ending) of the gods\n\nRAJPUTS, minor Hindu caste\n\nREGAN, daughter of Leir\n\nREGILLUS, lake in Latium, noted for battle fought near by\nbetween the Romans and the Latins\n\nREGGIO, family from which Rogero sprang\n\nREMUS, brother of Romulus, founder of Rome\n\nRHADAMANTHUS, son of Jupiter and Europa after his death one of\nthe judges in the lower world\n\nRHAPSODIST, professional reciter of poems among the Greeks\n\nRHEA, female Titan, wife of Saturn (Cronos), mother of the chief\ngods, worshipped in Greece and Rome\n\nRHINE, river\n\nRHINE MAIDENS, OR DAUGHTERS, three water nymphs, Flosshilda,\nWoglinda, and Wellgunda, set to guard the Nibelungen Hoard, buried\nin the Rhine\n\nRHODES, one of the seven cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nRHODOPE, mountain in Thrace\n\nRHONGOMYANT, Arthur's lance\n\nRHOECUS, a youth, beloved by a Dryad, but who brushed away a bee\nsent by her to call him to her, and she punished him with\nblindness\n\nRHIANNON, wife of Pwyll\n\nRINALDO, one of the bravest knights of Charlemagne\n\nRIVER OCEAN, flowing around the earth\n\nROBERT DE BEAUVAIS', Norman poet (1257)\n\nROBIN HOOD, famous outlaw in English legend, about time of Richard\nCoeur de Lion\n\nROCKINGHAM, forest of\n\nRODOMONT, king of Algiers\n\nROGERO, noted Saracen knight\n\nROLAND (Orlando), See Orlando\n\nROMANCES\n\nROMANUS, legendary great grandson of Noah\n\nROME\n\nROMULUS, founder of Rome\n\nRON, Arthur's lance\n\nRONCES VALLES', battle of\n\nROUND TABLE King Arthur's instituted by Merlin the Sage for\nPendragon, Arthur's father, as a knightly order, continued and\nmade famous by Arthur and his knights\n\nRUNIC CHARACTERS, or runes, alphabetic signs used by early\nTeutonic peoples, written or graved on metal or stone\n\nRUTULIANS, an ancient people in Italy, subdued at an early period\nby the Romans\n\nRYENCE, king in Ireland\n\nS\n\nSABRA, maiden for whom Severn River was named, daughter of Locrine\nand Estrildis thrown into river Severn by Locrine's wife,\ntransformed to a river nymph, poetically named Sabrina\n\nSACRIPANT, king of Circassia\n\nSAFFIRE, Sir, knight of Arthur\n\nSAGAS, Norse tales of heroism, composed by the Skalds\n\nSAGRAMOUR, knight of Arthur\n\nSt. MICHAEL'S MOUNT, precipitous pointed rock hill on the coast of\nBrittany, opposite Cornwall\n\nSAKYASINHA, the Lion, epithet applied to Buddha\n\nSALAMANDER, a lizard like animal, fabled to be able to live in\nfire\n\nSALAMIS, Grecian city\n\nSALMONEUS, son of Aeolus and Enarete and brother of Sisyphus\n\nSALOMON, king of Brittany, at Charlemagne's court\n\nSAMHIN, or \"fire of peace,\" a Druidical festival\n\nSAMIAN SAGE (Pythagoras)\n\nSAMOS, island in the Aegean Sea\n\nSAMOTHRACIAN GODS, a group of agricultural divinities, worshipped\nin Samothrace\n\nSAMSON, Hebrew hero, thought by some to be original of Hercules\n\nSAN GREAL (See Graal, the Holy)\n\nSAPPHO, Greek poetess, who leaped into the sea from promontory of\nLeucadia in disappointed love for Phaon\n\nSARACENS, followers of Mahomet\n\nSARPEDON, son of Jupiter and Europa, killed by Patroclus\n\nSATURN (Cronos)\n\nSATURNALIA, a annual festival held by Romans in honor of Saturn\n\nSATURNIA, an ancient name of Italy\n\nSATYRS, male divinities of the forest, half man, half goat\n\nSCALIGER, famous German scholar of 16th century\n\nSCANDINAVIA, mythology of, giving account of Northern gods,\nheroes, etc\n\nSCHERIA, mythical island, abode of the Phaeacians\n\nSCHRIMNIR, the boar, cooked nightly for the heroes of Valhalla\nbecoming whole every morning\n\nSCIO, one of the island cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nSCOPAS, King of Thessaly\n\nSCORPION, constellation\n\nSCYLLA, sea nymph beloved by Glaucus, but changed by jealous Circe\nto a monster and finally to a dangerous rock on the Sicilian\ncoast, facing the whirlpool Charybdis, many mariners being wrecked\nbetween the two, also, daughter of King Nisus of Megara, who loved\nMinos, besieging her father's city, but he disliked her disloyalty\nand drowned her, also, a fair virgin of Sicily, friend of sea\nnymph Galatea\n\nSCYROS, where Theseus was slain\n\nSCYTHIA, country lying north of Euxine Sea\n\nSEMELE, daughter of Cadmus and, by Jupiter, mother of Bacchus\n\nSEMIRAMIS, with Ninus the mythical founder of the Assyrian empire\nof Nineveh\n\nSENAPUS, King of Abyssinia, who entertained Astolpho\n\nSERAPIS, or Hermes, Egyptian divinity of Tartarus and of\nmedicine\n\nSERFS, slaves of the land\n\nSERIPHUS, island in the Aegean Sea, one of the Cyclades\n\nSERPENT (Northern constellation)\n\nSESTOS, dwelling of Hero (which See also Leander)\n\n\"SEVEN AGAINST THEBES,\" famous Greek expedition\n\nSEVERN RIVER, in England\n\nSEVINUS, Duke of Guienne\n\nSHALOTT, THE LADY OF\n\nSHATRIYA, Hindu warrior caste\n\nSHERASMIN, French chevalier\n\nSIBYL, prophetess of Cumae\n\nSICHAEUS, husband of Dido\n\nSEIGE PERILOUS, the chair of purity at Arthur's Round Table, fatal\nto any but him who was destined to achieve the quest of the\nSangreal (See Galahad)\n\nSIEGFRIED, young King of the Netherlands, husband of Kriemhild,\nshe boasted to Brunhild that Siegfried had aided Gunther to beat\nher in athletic contests, thus winning her as wife, and Brunhild,\nin anger, employed Hagan to murder Siegfried. As hero of Wagner's\n\"Valkyrie,\" he wins the Nibelungen treasure ring, loves and\ndeserts Brunhild, and is slain by Hagan\n\nSIEGLINDA, wife of Hunding, mother of Siegfried by Siegmund\n\nSIEGMUND, father of Siegfried\n\nSIGTRYG, Prince, betrothed of King Alef's daughter, aided by\nHereward\n\nSIGUNA, wife of Loki\n\nSILENUS, a Satyr, school master of Bacchus\n\nSILURES (South Wales)\n\nSILVIA, daughter of Latin shepherd\n\nSILVIUS, grandson of Aeneas, accidentally killed in the chase by\nhis son Brutus\n\nSIMONIDES, an early poet of Greece\n\nSINON, a Greek spy, who persuaded the Trojans to take the Wooden\nHorse into their city\n\nSIRENS, sea nymphs, whose singing charmed mariners to leap into\nthe sea, passing their island, Ulysses stopped the ears of his\nsailors with wax, and had himself bound to the mast so that he\ncould hear but not yield to their music\n\nSIRIUS, the dog of Orion, changed to the Dog star\n\nSISYPHUS, condemned in Tartarus to perpetually roll up hill a big\nrock which, when the top was reached, rolled down again\n\nSIVA, the Destroyer, third person of the Hindu triad of gods\n\nSKALDS, Norse bards and poets\n\nSKIDBLADNIR, Freyr's ship\n\nSKIRNIR, Frey's messenger, who won the god's magic sword by\ngetting him Gerda for his wife\n\nSKRYMIR, a giant, Utgard Loki in disguise, who fooled Thor in\nathletic feats\n\nSKULD, the Norn of the Future\n\nSLEEP, twin brother of Death\n\nSLEIPNIR, Odin's horse\n\nSOBRINO, councillor to Agramant\n\nSOMNUS, child of Nox, twin brother of Mors, god of sleep\n\nSOPHOCLES, Greek tragic dramatist\n\nSOUTH WIND See Notus\n\nSPAR'TA, capital of Lacedaemon\n\nSPHINX, a monster, waylaying the road to Thebes and propounding\nriddles to all passers, on pain of death, for wrong guessing, who\nkilled herself in rage when Aedipus guessed aright\n\nSPRING\n\nSTONEHENGE, circle of huge upright stones, fabled to be sepulchre\nof Pendragon\n\nSTROPHIUS, father of Pylades\n\nSTYGIAN REALM, Hades\n\nSTYGIAN SLEEP, escaped from the beauty box sent from Hades to\nVenus by hand of Psyche, who curiously opened the box and was\nplunged into unconsciousness\n\nSTYX, river, bordering Hades, to be crossed by all the dead\n\nSUDRAS, Hindu laboring caste\n\nSURTUR, leader of giants against the gods in the day of their\ndestruction (Norse mythology)\n\nSURYA, Hindu god of the sun, corresponding to the Greek Helios\n\nSUTRI, Orlando's birthplace\n\nSVADILFARI, giant's horse\n\nSWAN, LEDA AND\n\nSYBARIS, Greek city in Southern Italy, famed for luxury\n\nSYLVANUS, Latin divinity identified with Pan\n\nSYMPLEGADES, floating rocks passed by the Argonauts\n\nSYRINX, nymph, pursued by Pan, but escaping by being changed to a\nbunch of reeds (See Pandean pipes)\n\nT\n\nTACITUS, Roman historian\n\nTAENARUS, Greek entrance to lower regions\n\nTAGUS, river in Spain and Portugal\n\nTALIESIN, Welsh bard\n\nTANAIS, ancient name of river Don\n\nTANTALUS, wicked king, punished in Hades by standing in water\nthat retired when he would drink, under fruit trees that withdrew\nwhen he would eat\n\nTARCHON, Etruscan chief\n\nTARENTUM, Italian city\n\nTARPEIAN ROCK, in Rome, from which condemned criminals were\nhurled\n\nTARQUINS, a ruling family in early Roman legend\n\nTAURIS, Grecian city, site of temple of Diana (See Iphigenia)\n\nTAURUS, a mountain\n\nTARTARUS, place of confinement of Titans, etc, originally a black\nabyss below Hades later, represented as place where the wicked\nwere punished, and sometimes the name used as synonymous with\nHades\n\nTEIRTU, the harp of\n\nTELAMON, Greek hero and adventurer, father of Ajax\n\nTELEMACHUS, son of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nTELLUS, another name for Rhea\n\nTENEDOS, an island in Aegean Sea\n\nTERMINUS, Roman divinity presiding over boundaries and frontiers\n\nTERPSICHORE, Muse of dancing\n\nTERRA, goddess of the earth\n\nTETHYS, goddess of the sea\n\nTEUCER, ancient king of the Trojans\n\nTHALIA, one of the three Graces\n\nTHAMYRIS, Thracian bard, who challenged the Muses to competition\nin singing, and, defeated, was blinded\n\nTHAUKT, Loki disguised as a hag\n\nTHEBES, city founded by Cadmus and capital of Boeotia\n\nTHEMIS, female Titan, law counsellor of Jove\n\nTHEODORA, sister of Prince Leo\n\nTHERON, one of Diana's dogs\n\nTHERSITES, a brawler, killed by Achilles\n\nTHESCELUS, foe of Perseus, turned to stone by sight of Gorgon's\nhead\n\nTHESEUM, Athenian temple in honor of Theseus\n\nTHESEUS, son of Aegeus and Aethra, King of Athens, a great hero of\nmany adventures\n\nTHESSALY\n\nTHESTIUS, father of Althea\n\nTHETIS, mother of Achilles\n\nTHIALFI, Thor's servant\n\nTHIS'BE, Babylonian maiden beloved by Pyramus\n\nTHOR, the thunderer, of Norse mythology, most popular of the gods\n\nTHRACE\n\nTHRINA'KIA, island pasturing Hyperion's cattle, where Ulysses\nlanded, but, his men killing some cattle for food, their ship was\nwrecked by lightning\n\nTHRYM, giant, who buried Thor's hammer\n\nTHUCYDIDES, Greek historian\n\nTIBER, river flowing through Rome\n\nTIBER, FATHER, god of the river\n\nTIGRIS, river\n\nTINTADEL, castle of, residence of King Mark of Cornwall\n\nTIRESIAS, a Greek soothsayer\n\nTISIPHONE, one of the Furies\n\nTITANS, the sons and daughters of Uranus (Heaven) and Gaea\n(Earth), enemies of the gods and overcome by them\n\nTITHONUS, Trojan prince\n\nTITYUS, giant in Tartarus\n\nTMOLUS, a mountain god\n\nTORTOISE, second avatar of Vishnu\n\nTOURS, battle of (See Abdalrahman and Charles Martel)\n\nTOXEUS, brother of Melauger's mother, who snatched from Atalanta\nher hunting trophy, and was slain by Melauger, who had awarded it\nto her\n\nTRIAD, the Hindu\n\nTRIADS, Welsh poems\n\nTRIMURTI, Hindu Triad\n\nTRIPTOL'EMUS, son of Celeus , and who, made great by\nCeres, founded her worship in Eleusis\n\nTRISTRAM, one of Arthur's knights, husband of Isoude of the White\nHands, lover of Isoude the Fair,\n\nTRITON, a demi god of the sea, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and\nAmphitrite\n\nTROEZEN, Greek city of Argolis\n\nTROJAN WAR\n\nTROJANOVA, New Troy, City founded in Britain (See Brutus, and\nLud)\n\nTROPHONIUS, oracle of, in Boeotia\n\nTROUBADOURS, poets and minstrels of Provence, in Southern France\n\nTROUVERS', poets and minstrels of Northern France\n\nTROY, city in Asia Minor, ruled by King Priam, whose son, Paris,\nstole away Helen, wife of Menelaus the Greek, resulting in the\nTrojan War and the destruction of Troy\n\nTROY, fall of\n\nTURNUS, chief of the Rutulianes in Italy, unsuccessful rival of\nAeneas for Lavinia\n\nTURPIN, Archbishop of Rheims\n\nTURQUINE, Sir, a great knight, foe of Arthur, slain by Sir\nLauncelot\n\nTYPHON, one of the giants who attacked the gods, were defeated,\nand imprisoned under Mt. Aetna\n\nTYR, Norse god of battles\n\nTYRE, Phoenician city governed by Dido\n\nTYRIANS\n\nTYRRHEUS, herdsman of King Turnus in Italy, the slaying of whose\ndaughter's stag aroused war upon Aeneas and his companions\n\nU\n\nUBERTO, son of Galafron\n\nULYSSES (Greek, Odysseus), hero of the Odyssey\n\nUNICORN, fabled animal with a single horn\n\nURANIA, one of the Muses, a daughter of Zeus by Mnemosyne\n\nURDUR, one of the Norns or Fates of Scandinavia, representing the\nPast\n\nUSK, British river\n\nUTGARD, abode of the giant Utgard Loki\n\nUTGARD LO'KI, King of the Giants (See Skrymir)\n\nUTHER (Uther Pendragon), king of Britain and father of Arthur,\n\nUWAINE, knight of Arthur's court\n\nV\n\nVAISSYAS, Hindu caste of agriculturists and traders\n\nVALHALLA, hall of Odin, heavenly residence of slain heroes\n\nVALKYRIE, armed and mounted warlike virgins, daughters of the gods\n(Norse), Odin's messengers, who select slain heroes for Valhalla\nand serve them at their feasts\n\nVE, brother of Odin\n\nVEDAS, Hindu sacred Scriptures\n\nVENEDOTIA, ancient name for North Wales\n\nVENUS (Aphrodite), goddess of beauty\n\nVENUS DE MEDICI, famous antique statue in Uffizi Gallery,\nFlorence, Italy\n\nVERDANDI, the Present, one of the Norns\n\nVERTUMNUS, god of the changing seasons, whose varied appearances\nwon the love of Pomona\n\nVESTA, daughter of Cronos and Rhea, goddess of the homefire, or\nhearth\n\nVESTALS, virgin priestesses in temple of Vesta\n\nVESUVIUS, Mount, volcano near Naples\n\nVILLAINS, peasants in the feudal scheme\n\nVIGRID, final battle-field, with destruction of the gods ind\ntheir enemies, the sun, the earth, and time itself\n\nVILI, brother of Odin and Ve\n\nVIRGIL, celebrated Latin poet (See Aeneid)\n\nVIRGO, constellation of the Virgin, representing Astraea, goddess\nof innocence and purity\n\nVISHNU, the Preserver, second of the three chief Hindu gods\n\nVIVIANE, lady of magical powers, who allured the sage Merlin and\nimprisoned him in an enchanted wood\n\nVOLSCENS, Rutulian troop leader who killed Nisus and Euryalus\n\nVOLSUNG, A SAGA, an Icelandic poem, giving about the same legends\nas the Nibelungen Lied\n\nVORTIGERN, usurping King of Britain, defeated by Pendragon 390,\n397\n\nVULCAN (Greek, Haephestus), god of fire and metal working, with\nforges under Aetna, husband of Venus\n\nVYA'SA, Hindu sage\n\nW\n\nWAIN, the, constellation\n\nWELLGUNDA, one of the Rhine-daughters\n\nWELSH LANGUAGE\n\nWESTERN OCEAN\n\nWINDS, THE\n\nWINTER\n\nWODEN, chief god in the Norse mythology, Anglo Saxon for Odin\n\nWOGLINDA, one of the Rhine-daughters\n\nWOMAN, creation of\n\nWOODEN HORSE, the, filled with armed men, but left outside of Troy\nas a pretended offering to Minerva when the Greeks feigned to sail\naway, accepted by the Trojans (See Sinon, and Laocoon), brought\ninto the city, and at night emptied of the hidden Greek soldiers,\nwho destroyed the town\n\nWOOD NYMPHS\n\nWOTAN, Old High German form of Odin\n\nX\n\nXANTHUS, river of Asia Minor\n\nY\n\nYAMA, Hindu god of the Infernal Regions\n\nYEAR, THE\n\nYGDRASIL, great ash-tree, supposed by Norse mythology to support\nthe universe\n\nYMIR, giant, slain by Odin\n\nYNYWL, Earl, host of Geraint, father of Enid\n\nYORK, Britain\n\nYSERONE, niece of Arthur, mother of Caradoc\n\nYSPA DA DEN PEN'KAWR, father of Olwen\n\nZ\n\nZENDAVESTA, Persian sacred Scriptures\n\nZEPHYRUS, god of the South wind,\n\nZERBINO, a knight, son of the king of Scotland\n\nZETES, winged warrior, companion of Theseus\n\nZETHUS, son of Jupiter and Antiope, brother of Amphion. See Dirce\n\nZEUS, See JUPITER\n\nZOROASTER, founder of the Persian religion, which was dominant in\nWestern Asia from about 550 BC to about 650 AD, and is still held\nby many thousands in Persia and in India","title":"The Age of Fable","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":142627}