Part 10

"The babe was born at the first peep of day, He began playing on the lyre at noon, And the same evening did he steal away Apollo's herds."

SHELLEY.

He gave another proof of this propensity, by throwing himself upon the timid Cupid, and wrestling from him his quivers; and increased his notoriety by robbing Venus of her girdle, Mars of his sword, Jupiter of his sceptre, and Vulcan of his mechanical instruments.

"Hermes with gods and men, even from that day Mingled and wrought the latter much annoy, And little profit, going far astray, Through the dun night."

SHELLEY.

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As the messenger of Jupiter, he was entrusted with all his secrets and permitted to make himself invisible whenever he pleased, or to assume any shape he chose.

The invention of the lyre and seven strings is ascribed to him, which he gave to Apollo, and received in exchange the celebrated caduceus, with which the God of poetry used to drive the flocks of King Admetus. This celebrated instrument was a rod entwined at one end by two serpents.

"Come take The lyre--be mine the glory of giving it-- Strike the sweet chords, and sing aloud and wake The joyous pleasure out of many a fit Of tranced sound--and with fleet fingers make Thy liquid voiced comrade talk with thee; It can talk measured music eloquently. Then bear it boldly to the revel loud, Love wakening dance, or feast of solemn state, A joy by night or day, for those endowed With art and wisdom, who interrogate! It teaches, bubbling in delightful mood All things which make the spirit most elate, Soothing the mind with sweet familiar play, Chasing the heavy shadows of dismay."

SHELLEY.

"O Hermes, thou who couldst of yore Amphion's bosom warm, And breathe into his strains the power, The rugged rocks to charm; Breathe, breathe into my lyre's soft string, And bid its music sweet notes fling, For what O lyre, can thee withstand? Touched by an Orpheus' magic hand, Thou calm'st the tiger's wrath: The listening woods thou draw'st along, The rivers stay to hear thy song, And listen still as death. Tityos with pleasure heard thy strain, And Ixion smiled amid his pain."

HORACE.

Numerous were the modes of sacrifice to Mercury, and the places in which they were offered; among others, the Roman merchants yearly celebrated a festival in his honour. After the votaries had sprinkled themselves with water, they offered prayers to the divinity, and entreated him to be favourable to them, and to forgive any artful measures, perjuries, or falsehoods they had used in the pursuit of gain; and this may be considered to have been particularly necessary when it is remembered that the merchants, who had promised him all the incense in the world to obtain his {112} protection, proved that they had profited by his principles, by offering him only a hundredth part, when they had secured his good offices.

Jupiter soon missed the services of his intelligent messenger, and recalled him to Olympus. Here, Mercury rendering some kindness to Venus, the goddess fell in love with him, and bore to him Hermaphrodite, a child which united the talents of his father with the graces of his mother; at the age of fifteen, he began to travel, and bathing one day in a fountain in Cana, excited the passion of Salmaeis, the nymph who presided over it.

"From both the illustrious authors of his race The child was named; nor was it hard to trace Both the bright parents through the infant's face. When fifteen years, in Ida's cool retreat, The boy had told, he left his native seat, And sought fresh fountains in a foreign soil: The pleasure lessened the attending toil. With eager steps the Lycian fields he crossed, And fields that border on the Lycian coast; A river here he viewed so lovely bright, It showed the bottom in a fairer light, Nor kept a sand concealed from human sight. The fruitful banks with cheerful verdure crowned, And kept the spring eternal on the ground. A nymph presides, nor practised in the chase, Nor skilful at the bow, nor at the race; Of all the blue-eyed daughters of the main, The only stranger to Diana's train; Her sisters often, as 'tis said, would cry 'Fye, Salmaeis, what always idle! fye; Or take the quiver, or the arrows seize And mix the toils of hunting with thy ease.' Nor quivers she, nor arrows e'er would seize, Nor mix the toils of hunting with her ease; But oft would bathe her in the crystal tide, Oft with a comb her dewy locks divide; Now in the limped streams she views her face, And dressed her image in the floating glass: On beds of leaves she now reposed her limbs, Now gathered flowers that grew about her streams, And there by chance was gathering as she stood To view the boy--"

OVID.

Hermaphroditus continued deaf to all entreaties and offers; and Salmaeis, throwing her arms around him, entreated the Gods to render her inseparable from him whom she adored. The Gods heard her prayer, and formed of the two, a being of perfect beauty, preserving the characteristics of both sexes. {113}

Offerings were made to him of milk and honey, because he was the God of eloquence, whose powers were sweet and persuasive. Sometimes his statues represent him without arms, because the power of speech can prevail over everything.

The Greeks and Romans celebrated his festivals, principally in the month of May. They frequently placed on his back the statue of Minerva, and offered to him the tongues of the victims whom they immolated to the goddess.

"Who beareth the world on his shoulders so broad; Hear me, thou power, who, of yore, by thy words Couldst soften the hearts of the barbarous hordes, And by the Palaestia taught him of the wild To be gentle, and graceful, and meek as a child. Thou messenger fleet of the cloud-throned sire, 'Twas thou who inventedst the golden-stringed lyre; I hail thee the patron of craft and of guile, To laugh while you grieve, to deceive while you smile, When you chafed into wrath bright Apollo of old, His dun-coloured steers having stol'n from the fold, He laughed; for, while talking all fiercely he found That his quiver, alack! from his back was unbound. 'Twas thou, who old Priam didst guide on his way, When he passed unperceived thro' the hostile array, Of the proud sons of Atreus, who sought to destroy The towers of high Ilion, the city of Troy. O Hermes, 'tis thou who conductest the blest To the seats where their souls shall for ever exist, Who governest their shades by the power of thy spell, The favourite of Heaven, the favourite of Hell."

HORACE.

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NEREIDS

These divinities were children of Nereus and Dorus. As the Dryads and Hamadryads presided over forests--as the Naiads watched over fountains and the sources of rivers--as the Oreads were the peculiar guardians of the hills, so the Nereids guided and commanded the waves of the ocean, and were implored as its deities. They had altars chiefly on the coast of the sea, where the piety of mankind made offerings of milk, oil, and honey, and often of the flesh of goats. When they were on the sea shore, they generally resided in grottos and caves, adorned with shells.

There were fifty of them, all children of Nereus, who is represented as an old man with a long flowing beard, and hair of an azure colour. The chief place of his residence was in the Egean Sea, where he was attended by his daughters, who often danced in chorus round him. He had the gift of prophecy, and informed those who consulted him, of the fate which awaited them, though such was the god's aversion to his task, that he often evaded the importunities of the inquirers, by assuming different shapes, and totally escaping from their grasp.

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DIVINITIES OF THE SECOND CLASS.

The gods of the first order, were endowed by the writers of antiquity, with natures partly real, and partly imaginary. By their power, the government of the universe was carried on; but mortals in attributing to these gods their own passions and weaknesses, began to blend with them divinities of a secondary class, to preside over those less important affairs, which might be supposed unworthy the notice of the superior intelligences.

For the most part, therefore, these Immortals have no origin in history; but, as allusions are constantly made to them in the eloquent language of the orator, or in the beautiful metaphor of the poet, it is necessary to introduce those who are considered to be the most celebrated.

And for the future, the poetry offered will principally be that which relates rather to the attributes they were supposed to possess, than to the gods themselves. Thus, with such deities as Aeolus and Mors, we shall introduce poems addressed to the Wind and Death, over which they presided, as suited to the modern character of our Mythology, and more generally appreciated by the readers of the nineteenth century.

DIVINITIES OF THE EARTH.

PAN.

Pan was the god of shepherds, and of all inhabitants of the country; he was the son of Mercury by Driope, and is usually described as possessing two small horns on his head, his complexion ruddy, his nose flat, and his legs, thighs, tail and feet hairy, like those of a goat. When he was brought into the world, the nurse, terrified at sight of him, ran away in horror, and his father wrapping him up in the skins of beasts, carried him to Heaven, where Jupiter and the other Gods, entertained themselves with the oddity of his appearance; Bacchus was delighted with him, and gave him the name of Pan.

"Sprung the rude God to light; Of dreadful form, and horrible to sight; Goat-footed, horned, yet full of sport and joy, The nurse, astonished, fled the wondrous boy: {116} His shaggy limbs, the trembling matron feared, His face distorted, and his rugged beard: But Hermes from her hands received the child, And on the infant god auspicious smiled. In the thick fur wrapped of a mountain hare, His arms the boy to steep Olympus bear; Proudly he shows him to imperial Jove, High seated 'mid the immortal powers above. With friendly joy and love, the race divine, But chiefly Bacchus, god of mirth and wine, Received the dauntless god, whom Pan they call, Pan, for his song delights the breast of all."

HORACE.

This god of the shepherds chiefly resided in Arcadia, where the woods and the mountains were his habitation.

"His mighty palace roof doth hang From jagged trunks, and overshadoweth Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death, Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness. Who loves to see the hamadryads dress Their ruffled locks, where meeting hazels darken, And through whole solemn hours, dost sit and harken The dreary melody of bedded reeds."

KEATS.

The flute was invented by Pan, and formed of seven reeds, which he called Syrinx, in honour of a beautiful nymph of the same name, who, refusing his addresses, was changed into a reed.

"A nymph of late there was, Whose heavenly form her fellows did surpass, The pride and joy of fair Arcadia's plains, Beloved by deities, adored by swains. Like Phoebe clad, e'en Phoebe's self she seems, So tall, so straight, such well proportioned limbs, The nicest eye did no distinction know But that the goddess bore a golden bow, Descending from Lycaeus, Pan admires The matchless nymph, and burns with new desires. A crown of pine upon his head he wore, And then began her pity to implore. But ere he thus began, she took her flight, So swift she was already out of sight, Nor staid to hear the courtship of the god: But bent her course to Ladon's gentle flood: There by the river stopped, and tired before Relief from water-nymphs her prayers implore, Now while the rural god with speedy pace, Just thought to strain her in his strict embrace, He filled his arms with reeds, new rising in the place: And while he sighs his ill success to find, The tender canes were shaken by the wind, And breathed a mournful air unheard before, That much surprizing Pan, yet pleased him more, {117} Admiring this new music, 'Thou' he said, 'Who cans't not be the partner of my bed, At least shall be the consort of my mind, And often, often to my lips be joined.' He formed the reeds, proportioned as they are, Unequal in their length and waxed with care, They still retain the name of his ungrateful fair."

OVID.

He was continually employed in deceiving the neighbouring nymphs, and often with success. Though deformed in shape and features, he had the good fortune to captivate Diana in the appearance of a beautiful white goat.

His adventure with Omphale is amusing; while the latter was travelling with Hercules, a sacrifice which was to take place on the following day, caused Omphale and the hero to seek separate apartments. In the night, Pan introduced himself, and went to the bed {118} of the queen; but there seeing the lion's skin of Hercules, he fancied he had made a mistake, and repaired to that of the hero; where the female dress which the latter had adopted, deceived the rural God, and he laid himself down by his side. The hero awoke, and kicked the intruder into the middle of the room. The noise aroused Omphale, and Pan was discovered lying on the ground, greatly discomfited and ashamed.

The worship of Pan was well established, particularly in Arcadia, and his statue was usually placed under the shadow of a pine-tree. Upon his altars were laid both honey and milk, fit offerings for a rural divinity.

"With cloven feet and horned front who roves With choirs of nymphs, amid the echoing groves; He joins in active dance the virgin throng, To Pan, the pastoral god, they raise the song.

"To Pan, with tangled locks, whose footsteps tread Each snow-crowned hill, and mountain's lofty head; Or wander careless through the lowly brake, Or by the borders of the lucid lake."

HORACE.

He loved the nymph Echo, but in this instance was unsuccessful in his passion, for the latter adored the beautiful Narcissus, and {119} wandered over hill and dale in search of the youth on whom she had lavished all her affections, but who unfortunately returned them not.

To whom is not the tale of the self-slain Narcissus known, though perhaps the exquisite story of Echo's love for him may be less familiar to the mind.

After Echo had been dismissed by Jupiter, for her loquacity in proclaiming his numerous amours, she fell in love with the beautiful Narcissus.

"And at the sight of the fair youth she glows, And follows silently where'er he goes."

Unable, however, to address him first, she waited the sound of his beloved voice.

"Now several ways his young companions gone, And for some time Narcissus left alone, 'Where are you all?' at last she hears him call, And she straight answers him, '_where are you all_?'

"'Speak yet again,' he cries, 'is any nigh?' Again the mournful Echo answers, '_I_,' 'Why come not you,' he said, 'appear in view,' She hastily returns, '_why come not you_?'

"'Then let us join,' at last Narcissus said, '_Then let us join_,' replied the ravished maid."

In vain had the wondering youth up to this moment looked for the frolic companions, whom he imagined had hid themselves in play. But Echo, charmed with his last exclamation, hastily appeared, and threw herself on the bosom of the astonished youth, who, far from submitting with pleasure to the intrusion,

"With all his strength unlocks her fold, And breaks unkindly from her feeble hold; Then proudly cries, 'life shall this breast forsake, Ere you, loose nymph, on me your pleasure take;' '_On me your pleasure take_,' the nymph replies While from her the disdainful hunter flies."

As the youth wandered on, anxious only to escape from the society of Echo, he suddenly came upon a fountain, in which, as he reclined on the ground, he fancied he saw the figure of a beautiful nymph.

"Deep through the spring, his eye-balls dart their beams, Like midnight stars that twinkle in the streams, His ivory neck the crystal mirror shows, His waving hair, above the surface flows, His own perfections all his passions moved, He loves himself, who for himself was loved."

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Half maddened by the appearance of a beauty, of which hitherto he had been unconscious, he made every possible effort to grasp what appeared to be the guardian spirit of the water.

"Oft with his down-thrust arms he thought to fold, About that neck that still deludes his hold, He gets no kisses from those cozening lips, His arms grasp nothing, from himself he slips; He knows not what he views, and yet pursues His desperate love, and burns for what he views."

Nothing could win the self-enamoured boy from his devoted passion; but bending over the lucid spring, he fed his eyes with the delusive shade which seemed to gaze on him from the depths. At last

"Streaming tears from his full eye-lids fell, And drop by drop, raised circles in the well, The several rings larger and larger spread, And by degrees dispersed the fleeting shade."

Narcissus fancied that the nymph upon whom he supposed he had been gazing, was deserting him, and unable to bear the misery which the thought occasioned, he wounded himself in his agony, deeming that life without her would be insupportable. Echo, however resentful she had felt for the scorn with which he had treated her, hovered near his footsteps and witnessed this last infatuation with redoubled sorrow. {121}

"Now hanging o'er the spring his drooping head, With a sad sigh these dying words he said, 'Ah! boy beloved in vain,' thro' all the plain Echo resounds, '_Ah! boy beloved in vain!_' 'Farewell,' he cries, and with that word he died, '_Farewell,_' the miserable nymph replied. Now pale and breathless on the grass he lies, For death had shut his miserable eyes."

The Gods, however, taking pity upon his melancholy fate, changed him into the flower Narcissus.

Many morals have been attempted to be deduced from this beautiful fable, but in none of them have their authors been very successful, unless we may gather a warning of the fatal effects of self-love.

"What first inspired a bard of old to sing Narcissus pining o'er the mountain spring? In some delicious ramble, he had found A little space, with boughs all woven round, And in the midst of all a clearer pool Than ere reflected in its pleasant cool The blue sky, here and there divinely peeping Through tendril wreaths, fantastically creeping; And on the bank a lonely flower he spied, A meek and forlorn flower with nought of pride, Drooping its beauty o'er the watery clearness To woo its own sweet image unto nearness; Deaf to light Zephyrus, it would not move, But still would seem to droop, to pine, to love; So while the poet stood in this sweet spot; Some fainted dreamings o'er his fancy shot; Nor was it long ere he had told the tale Of young Narcissus, and sad Echo's vale."

KEATS.

Poor Pan, undeterred by the zealous passion of Echo for Narcissus, still continued to love her, and pleased himself by wandering in the woods and deserts, there calling upon her, for the pleasure of hearing her voice in reply.

"In thy cavern-hall, Echo! art thou sleeping? By the fountain's fall Dreamy silence keeping? Yet one soft note borne From the shepherd's horn, Wakes thee, Echo! into music leaping, Strange sweet Echo! into music leaping. "Then the woods rejoice, Then glad sounds are swelling, From each sister voice Round thy rocky dwelling; And their sweetness fills All the hollow hills, {122} With a thousand notes of _one_ life telling! Softly mingled notes, of one life telling. "Echo! in my heart Thus deep thoughts are lying, Silent and apart, Buried, yet undying, Till some gentle tone Wakening haply _one_, Calls a thousand forth, like thee replying! Strange sweet Echo, even like thee replying."

HEMANS.

This god, so adored and loved in the country, had the power of spreading terror and confusion when he pleased. The Gauls, who under Brennus, invaded Greece, when on the point of pillaging the Temple at Delphi, were seized with a sudden panic and took to flight. This terror was attributed to Pan, and they believed all panics, the cause of which was unknown, were produced by him.

It was by the counsel of Pan, that the Gods at the moment of the assault of Typhon, took the figures of various animals, changing himself into a goat, the skin of which was transported to Heaven, and formed the sign of Capricorn.

"From the forests and highlands, We come, we come! From the river-girt islands, Where the loud waves are dumb, Listening to my sweet pipings. The wind in the reeds and the rushes, The bees in the bells of the lime, The birds in the myrtle bushes, The cicale above in the thyme, And the lizard below in the grass, Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was, Listening to my sweet pipings. Liquid Peneus was flowing, And all dark Tempe lay In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing The light of the dying day, Speeded by my sweet pipings. The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, And the nymphs of woods, and waves, To the edge of the moist river lawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did there attendant follow, Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, With envy of my sweet pipings. "I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the daedal earth, And of heaven, and giant wars, And love, and death, and birth,-- And then I changed my pipings. {123} Singing how down the vale of Menalus, I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed; Gods and men were all deluded thus, It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed: All wept, as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood, At the sorrow of my sweet pipings."

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FAUNS, SYLVANS, AND SATYRS.

The Fauns were descended from Faunus, son of Picus King of Italy, who was changed by Circe into a woodpecker.

"Faunus who lov'st, thro' woodland glade, To pursue the Sylvan maid, Pass propitious now, I pray, Where my tender lambkins stray: Let each field and mountain high, Own thy genial presence nigh. Since with each returning year, In thy presence, I appear, With the victim's votive blood, Mighty monarch of the wood, And upon thy sacred shrine, Place the love inspiring wine, And, o'er all that hallowed ground, Make the incense breathe around, Hear O Faunus, hear my prayer, My lands to bless, my flocks to spare. When December's nones return Labour's yoke no more is borne, Sport the cattle in the meads, The blythesome dance the peasant leads, Even, 'mid that time of peace, Beasts of prey their fury cease, The lambkin roams all free and bold, Tho' feeds the wolf beside the fold, Knowing well thy potent arm Then protects from every harm. Lo, to hail the Sylvan king, Woods their leafy honours bring, Strewing in profusion gay, Verdant foliage all the way. Freed from toil, the labourer blythe Flings aside the spade and scythe, Glad to trip in nimble jig, The earth which he dislikes to dig."

HORACE.

They were the divinities of the woods and fields, and were represented as having the legs, feet, and ears of goats; the remainder of the body being human; the lamb and kid were offered to them by the peasants with great solemnity. {124}