Part 9

"As in the Lemnian caves of fire, The mate of her who nursed desire, Moulded the glowing steel, to form Arrows for Cupid, melting, warm; Once to this Lemnian cave of flame, The crested lord of battles came; 'Twas from the ranks of war he rushed, His spear with many a life-drop blushed; He saw the mystic darts, and smiled Derision on the archer child. 'And dost thou smile?' said little Love; 'Take this dart, and thou mayest prove That tho' they pass the breeze's flight, My bolts are not so feathery light.' He took the shaft--and oh! thy look, Sweet Venus! when the shaft he took, He sighed, and felt the urchin's art, He sighed in agony of heart; 'It is not light, I die with pain! Take, take thine arrow back again.' 'No,' said the child 'it must not be, That little dart was made for thee.'"

MOORE.

The result of his amour with Venus has been related in another part of this work.

He is usually represented in a chariot of steel, conducted by Bellona, goddess of War: on his cuirass are painted several monsters; the figures of Fury and Anger ornament his helmet, while Renown precedes him.

His priests, named Salii, carried small bucklers, supposed to be sacred, and to have fallen from the skies. To him was consecrated the cock, because it was vigilant and courageous, but they preferred offering the wolf; they sacrificed however, to him, all kinds of animals, and even human victims.

The statues and portraits of Mars, as the God of War, and consequently the winner of victory, have been very numerous. {97}

His most celebrated temple at Rome, was built by Augustus, after the battle of Phillippi, and was dedicated to "Mars the avenger."

"_Rivers._ And this is he, the fabled God of War.

_Evadne._ Aye, Mars the conqueror, see how he stands; The lordly port, the eye of fierce command, The threatening brow, and look that seems to dare A thousand foes to battle. --It was a beautiful faith that gave these gods A name and office! Is he not glorious?

_Rivers._ To my poor thought, there's that within his glance So fierce, I scarce dare meet it.

_Evadne._ It is your studious nature, yet methinks To gaze upon that proud and haughty form, To think upon the glorious deeds of war, The pomp and pride and circumstance of battle, The neighing of the steed, the clash of arms, The banner waving in the glowing breeze, The trumpet sound, the shout. Oh! there is nought so beautiful as this.

_Rivers._ Aye, but to see the living and the dead, Lying in mortal agony, side by side, Their bright hair dabbled in unrighteous blood, Their vestures tinctured with its gory red, The quivering limb, the eye that's glazed in death, The groan--

_Evadne._ 'Tis lost boy, in the drum and trumpet's voice. 'Tis lost in shouts of glorious victory, 'Tis lost in high, triumphal tones of gladness.

{98} _Rivers._ But then to think upon the hearts that grieve. For those who peril thus their lives in war, The misery that sweeps along the brain, The widows' moan, the orphans' tears of woe, The love that watcheth at the midnight hour, And hopeth on, but hopeth on in vain.

_Evadne._ And that is lost too in their country's shouts The voice of gratitude for those that fell, Drowns every thought in those who live to mourn; The hand of charity for those who are left. Fills every heart and dries up every fear; The record of a nation's loud applause, Writes on their tombs in characters of brass. And graves within our very souls, the words, 'Here lies his country's saviour.'

_Rivers._ But these can never pay the wrung in heart: Pride is a poor exchange for those adored: And even a nation with its giant strength, Cannot supply the vacant place of love!

_Evadne._ Shame on such craven thoughts, The image of the God frowns on your words-- All glorious Mars! be thou my god and guide, Be thou the image to fill up my heart, Be thou the spirit leading me to glory, And be my latest hour still cheered by thee, While round me dwells the shout of victory!"

FLETCHER.

Mars was the presider over gladiators, and was the god of all exercises, which have in them a manly or spirited character.

This famous lyric poet and musician, having gone into Italy, with Periander, tyrant of Corinth, he obtained immense treasures through his profession. On his return to his native country with his riches, the sailors of the vessel in which he had embarked, resolved to murder him, that they might obtain possession of his wealth; when the poet discovered their intention, he endeavoured to outwit them. {101}

"Allow me," said Arion, with all the earnestness of an enthusiast. "Ere I leave this world, oh! allow me to touch once more, and for the last time, the strings of the lyre which has so often cheered me: let the last moments of my life, be soothed by its gentle influence."

The boon was granted, and the divine strains of the master, issued in solemn beauty over the deep. At the sound, the traitors were struck silent, and hesitated in their course, but they had gone too far: it was too late to recede, and the poet was thrown into the deep. When lo! the dolphins, attracted by the sweet tones which they had heard, gathered round him; and Arion, mounted on the back of one, and accompanied by the remainder arrived safely at the end of his voyage. It is added, as an instance of the ingratitude of mortals, that the dolphin, having proceeded too far upon the sand, was unable to get back to the water, and the ungrateful Arion allowed his liberator to perish.

The worship of Neptune was established in almost every part of the earth, and the Libyans in particular, venerated him above all other Gods.

"Great Neptune! I would be Advanced to the freedom of the main, And stand before your vast creation's plain, And roam your watery kingdom thro' and thro' {102} And see your branching woods and palace blue, Spar-built and domed with crystal: aye and view The bedded wonders of the lonely deep; And see on coral banks, the sea-maids sleep, Children of ancient Nereus, and behold Their streaming dance about their father old, Beneath the blue Egean; where he sate, Wedded to prophecy, and full of fate! Or rather, as Arion harped, indeed, Would I go floating on my billow-steed, Over the billows, and triumphing there, Call the white syren from her cave to share My joy, and kiss her willing forehead fair."

KEATS.

To him was consecrated the horse, and in his honour were celebrated the Isthmian games. His throne was a chariot drawn by four fiery steeds; his stature is grand, and his appearance imposing; he wears the look of an old man, his long beard and hair, wet with the vapour of the water.

In his hand he holds the trident, which bids the waves of ocean to rise, and causes the thunder of its tempests. With this trident also, he shakes the world, and bids the earth to tremble.

During the _Consualia_ of the Romans, horses were led through the streets, finely equipped, and crowned with garlands, as the God in whose honour the festivals were instituted, had produced the horse, an animal so beneficial for the use of mankind.

As monarch of the sea, he is supposed to have had possession of the deep, and all the treasures which the stormy winds sent to his domain.

"What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells? Thou hollow-sounding, and mysterious main! Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain; Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea. We ask not such from thee!

"Yet more, the depths have more! what wealth untold, Far down, and shining thro' their stillness lies; Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal argosies; Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main; Earth claims not these again!

"Yet more, the depths have more! thy waves have rolled, Above the cities of a world gone by! Sand hath filled up the palaces of old, Sea-weed o'er-grown the halls of revelry. Dash o'er them, ocean! in thy scornful play! Man yields them to decay

{103} Yet more! the billows and the depths have more! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast! They hear not now the booming waters roar, The battle thunders will not break their rest; Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave, Give back the true and brave!

"Give back the lost and lovely! those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long; The prayer went up thro' midnight's breathless gloom, And the vain yearning woke midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown, But all is not thine own!

"To thee the love of woman hath gone down, Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head, O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown, Yet must thou hear a voice--restore the dead! Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee! Restore the dead thou sea!"

HEMANS.

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PLUTO.

The name of Pluto, as god of the kingdom of hell, and whatever is under the earth, where

"------------Cerberus, the cruel worm of death, Keeps watchful guard, and with his iron throat, Affrights the spirits in their pale sojourn,"

THURLOW.

is as well known to the readers of Mythology as that of his brother Jupiter.

The place of his residence being gloomy, and consequently unbearable to those goddesses whose hand he sought in marriage, and who looked for a gayer life than he could offer them, they all refused to become the sharer of his possessions. Pluto, however, was by no means willing to sit quietly down in single blessedness, thinking, perhaps, that the very reason which they assigned for their refusal, was an additional one in his favour for wishing a soother of his lot.

It was in his visit to the island of Sicily, that the God saw and became enamoured of Proserpine, as she gathered flowers in the plains of Enna. {104}

"He comes to us From the depths of Tartarus. For what of evil doth he roam From his red and gloomy home. In the centre of the world Where the sinful dead are hurled? Mark him as he moves along, Drawn by horses black and strong. Such as may belong to night, Ere she takes her morning flight, Now the chariot stops: the God On our grassy world hath trod, Like a Titan steppeth he, Yet full of his divinity. On his mighty shoulders lie Raven locks, and in his eye A cruel beauty, such as none Of us may wisely look upon."

BARRY CORNWALL.

In vain she called upon her attendants for help, the God bore her off to his dominions, and she became his bride.

"So in Sicilia's ever blooming shade, The playful Proserpine from Ceres strayed. Led with unwary step her virgin trains O'er Etna's steeps, and Enna's golden plains; Plucked with fair hand the silver blossomed bower, And purpled mead,--herself a fairer flower; {105} Sudden, unseen amid the twilight glade, Rushed gloomy Dis, and seized the trembling maid. Her startling damsels sprung from mossy seats, Dropped from their gauzy laps the gathered sweets, Clung round the struggling nymph, with piercing cries Pursued the chariot, and invoked the skies;-- Pleased as he grasps her in his iron arms, Frights with soft sighs, with tender words alarms; The wheels descending, rolled in smoky rings, Infernal Cupids flapped their demon wings; Earth with deep yawn received the fair amazed, And far in night, celestial beauty blazed."

DARWIN.

At the entrance of the place of torments was an enormous vestibule, tenanted by black Anxieties, Regrets, Groans, Remorse, pale Malady, Decay, Fright, Hunger, Poverty, Death, Sleep, fierce Joy, Rage, and the Eumenides, or Furies, who were seated on a couch of iron, and crowned with blood-stained serpents. A deep and dark cavern led towards Tartarus, which was surrounded by the river Acheron; Charon conducted over this water the souls of those sent to him by Death, while any to whom the rites of sepulchre had not been granted, were for a hundred years allowed to solicit their passage in vain. If any living person presented himself to cross the lake, he could not be admitted before he showed Charon a golden bough; and Charon was once imprisoned for a year, because he had ferried Hercules over without this passport.

Cerberus, a dog with three heads, watched at the entrance to Tartarus.

"A horrid dog and grim, couched on the floor, Guards, with malicious art, the sounding door; On each, who in the entrance first appears, He fawning wags his tail, and cocks his ears; If any strive to measure back the way, Their steps he watches, and devours his prey."

HESIOD.

Surrounded by an outer wall of iron, this terrible place was enclosed within a wall of adamant.

Pluto is generally represented as holding a trident with three prongs, and has a key in his hand, to intimate that whoever enters can never return. He is considered as a hard-hearted and inexorable deity, with a grim and dismal countenance, for which reason, temples were not raised to his honour, as to the remainder of the gods; though the story of Orpheus shews that he could be occasionally less severe. {106}

"When ill-fated Orpheus tuned to woe His potent lyre, and sought the realms below; Charmed into life unreal forms respired, And list'ning shades the dulcet note admired. Love led the sage through Death's tremendous porch, Cheered with his smile, and lighted with his torch; Hell's triple dog his playful jaws expands, Fawns round the god, and licks his baby hands; In wondering groups the shadowy nations throng, And sigh or simper, as he steps along; Sad swains, and nymphs forlorn, on Lethe's brink, Hug their past sorrows, and refuse to drink; Night's dazzled empress feels the golden flame Play round her breast, and melt her frozen frame; Charms with soft words, and sooths with amorous wiles, Her iron-hearted lord, and Pluto smiles. His trembling bride the bard triumphant led From the pale mansions of the astonished dead; Gave the fair phantom to admiring light, Ah! soon again to tread irrevocable night!"

DARWIN.

Black victims, and particularly the bull, were the only sacrifices which were offered to him, and their blood was not sprinkled on the altars, but permitted to run down into the earth to penetrate the realms of the God.

The Syracusans paid yearly homage to him near the fountain of Cyane, into which one of the attendant maidens of Proserpine had been metamorphosed, and where he had, according to the received traditions, disappeared with the goddess.

"On the ground, She sinks without a single sound, And all her garments float around; Again, again she rises light, Her head is like a fountain bright, And her glossy ringlets fall With a murmur musical, O'er her shoulders, like a river That rushes and escapes for ever. Is the fair Cyane gone? Is this fountain left alone For a sad remembrance, where We may in after times repair, With heavy heart and weeping eye, To sing songs to her memory?"

BARRY CORNWALL.

From the functions, and the place he inhabited, he received different names, and became the god of the infernal regions, of death, and of funerals.

That he might govern with order and regularity, the spirits who {107} were inhabitants of his vast dominions, he committed part of his power to three judges of the infernal regions, of whom Minos and Rhadamanthus were the most important. He sate in the middle, holding a sceptre in his hand. The dead pleaded their different causes before him, and the impartial judge shakes the fatal urn which is filled with the destinies of mankind. Rhadamanthus was employed in compelling the dead to confess their crimes, and in punishing them for their offences.

"Awful Rhadamanthus rules the state. He hears and judges each committed crime, Inquires into the manner, place, and time: The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal, Loth to confess, unable to conceal, From the first moment of his vital breath, To his last year of unrepenting death."

Amongst the most notorious criminals plunged in Tartarus, were the Titans; Sisyphus, a celebrated robber, condemned to roll an enormous stone to the summit of a high mountain, from which it fell again without ceasing, that he might be eternally employed in this punishment; Ixion who had dared to offer impure vows to Juno, and was affixed to a wheel which went constantly round, rendering his punishment also eternal; with Tantalus, condemned to a burning thirst, and surrounded by the grateful liquid which always vanished before his touch. {108}

"Tantalus condemned to hear The precious stream still purling in his ear; Lip-deep in what he longs for, and yet curst With prohibition and perpetual thirst."

COWPER.

The Danaides, daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, were also there, who, in obedience to the cruel advice of their parent, had caused their husbands to perish; with Tityus, who having had the audacity to attempt the honour of Latona, was doomed to feel a vulture constantly gnawing his entrails.

Ulysses sought the realm of Pluto, among his many adventures.

"When lo! appeared along the dusky coasts, Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts: Fair, pensive youths, and young enamoured maids; And withered elders, pale and wrinkled shades; Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain, Stalked with majestic port, a martial train; These and a thousand more, swarmed o'er the ground, And all the dire assembly shrieked around. Astonished at the sight, aghast I stood, And a cold fear ran shivering through my blood."

While here he saw the ghosts of all those famed in story, who had descended to the infernal regions for punishment.

"High on a throne, tremendous to behold, Stern Minos waves a mace of burnished gold; Around, ten thousand, thousand spectres stand, Thro' the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band. Still as they plead, the fatal lot he rolls, Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. There huge Orion, of portentous size, Swift thro' the gloom, a giant hunter flies; A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway Aloft he whirls to crush the savage prey! Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell, Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell. There Tityus, large and long, in fetters bound, O'erspreads nine acres of infernal ground; {109} Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food, Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood, Incessant gore the liver in his breast, Th' immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal feast. There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds); Ev'n in the circling floods refreshment craves, And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves; When to the water he his lip applies, Back from his lip the treacherous water flies, Above, beneath, around his hapless head, Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread; There figs sky-dy'd, a purple hue disclose, Green looks the olive, the pomegranate grows, There dangling pears exalting scents unfold, And yellow apples ripen into gold: The fruit he strives to seize, but blasts arise, Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies. I turned my eye, and, as I turned, surveyed A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade; With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down and smokes along the ground, Again the restless orb his toil renews, Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews."

* * * * *

{110}

MERCURY.

Though according to Cicero, there were no less than five gods of this name; yet to the son of Jupiter and Maia, the actions of all the others have been probably attributed, as he is the most famous and the best known.

Mercury was the messenger of the gods and the patron of travellers and shepherds; he conducted the souls of the dead into the infernal regions, and not only presided over orators and merchants, but was also the god of thieves, pickpockets, and all dishonest persons.

"A babe, all babes excelling, A schemer subtle beyond all belief, A shepherd of thin dreams, a cow stealing, A night watching and door waylaying thief."

SHELLEY.

The day following his birth he offered an early proof of his dishonest propensities, by stealing away the oxen of Admetus which Apollo tended.