Mosaics of Grecian History Part 8

This tendency of the Grecian mind is also very happily set forth in the following lines by PROFESSOR BLACKIE:

The old Greek men, the old Greek men-- No blinking fools were they, But with a free and broad-eyed ken Looked forth on glorious day.

They looked on the sun in their cloudless sky, And they saw that his light was fair; And they said that the round, full-beaming eye Of a blazing G.o.d was there!

They looked on the vast spread Earth, and saw The various fas.h.i.+oned forms, with awe Of green and creeping life, And said, "In every moving form, With buoyant breath and pulses warm, In flowery crowns and veined leaves, A G.o.dDESS dwells, whose bosom heaves With organizing strife."

They looked and saw the billowy sea, With its boundless rush of water's free, Belting the firm earth, far and wide, With the flow of its deep, untainted tide; And wondering viewed, in its clear blue flood, A quick and scaly-glancing brood, Sporting innumerous in the deep With dart, and plunge, and airy leap; And said, "Full sure a G.o.d doth reign King of this watery, wide domain, And rides in a car of cerulean hue O'er bounding billows of green and blue; And in one hand a three-p.r.o.nged spear He holds, the sceptre of his fear, And with the other shakes the reins Of his steeds, with foamy, flowing manes, And coures o'er the brine; And when he lifts his trident mace, Broad Ocean crisps his darkling face, And mutters wrath divine; The big waves rush with hissing crest, And beat the sh.o.r.e with ample breast, And shake the toppling cliff:

A wrathful G.o.d has roused the wave-- Vain is all pilot's skill to save, And lo! a deep, black-throated grave Ingulfs the reeling skiff."

Anon the flood less fiercely flows, The rifted cloud blue ether shows, The windy buffets cease; Poseidon chafes his heart no more, His voice constrains the billows' roar, And men may sail in peace.

[Footnote: Pos-ei'don, another name for Neptune, the sea-G.o.d.]

In the old oak a Dryad dwelt; The fingers of a nymph were felt In the fine-rippled flood; At drowsy noon, when all was still, Faunus lay sleeping on the hill, And strange and bright-eyed gamesome creatures, With hairy limbs and goat-like features, Peered from the p.r.i.c.kly wood.

[Footnote: The Sa'tyrs.]

Thus every power that zones the sphere With forms of beauty and of fear, In starry sky, on gra.s.sy ground, And in the fishy brine profound, Were, to the h.o.a.r Pelasgic men That peopled erst each Grecian glen, G.o.dS--or the actions of a G.o.d: G.o.ds were in every sight and sound And every spot was hallowed ground Where these far-wandering patriarchs trod.

But all this fairy world has pa.s.sed away, to live only as shadows in the realms of fancy and of song. SCHILLER gives expression to the poet's lament in the following lines:

Art thou, fair world, no more?

Return, thou virgin-bloom on Nature's face!

Ah, only on the minstrel's magic sh.o.r.e Can we the footsteps of sweet Fable trace!

The meadows mourn for the old hallowing life; Vainly we search the earth, of G.o.ds bereft; Where once the warm and living shapes were rife Shadows alone are left.

The Latin poet OV'ID, who lived at the time of the Christian era, has collected from the fictions of the early Greeks and Oriental nations, and woven into one continuous history, the pagan accounts of the Creation, embracing a description of the primeval world, and the early changes it underwent, followed by a history of the four eras or ages of primitive mankind, the deluge of Deuca'lion, and then onward down to the time of Augustus Caesar. This great work of the pagan poet, called The Metamorphoses, is not only the most curious and valuable record extant of ancient mythology, but some have thought they discovered, in every story it contains, a moral allegory; while others have attempted to trace in it the whole history of the Old Testament, and types of the miracles and sufferings of our Savior. But, however little of truth there may be in the last of these suppositions, the beautiful and impressive account of the Creation given by this poet, of the Four Ages of man's history which followed, and of the Deluge, coincides in so many remarkable respects with the Bible narrative, and with geological and other records, that we give it here as a specimen of Grecian fable that contains some traces of true history. The translation is by Dryden:

Account of the Creation.

Before the seas, and this terrestrial ball, And heaven's high canopy, that covers all, One was the face of Nature--if a face-- Rather, a rude and indigested ma.s.s; A lifeless lump, unfas.h.i.+oned and unframed, Of jarring elements, and CHAOS named.

No sun was lighted up the world to view, Nor moon did yet her blunted horns renew, Nor yet was earth suspended in the sky, Nor, poised, did on her own foundations lie, Nor seas about the sh.o.r.es their arms had thrown; But earth, and air, and water were in one.

Thus air was void of light, and earth unstable, And water's dark abyss unnavigable.

No certain form on any was impressed; All were confused, and each disturbed the rest.

Thus disembroiled they take their proper place; The next of kin contiguously embrace, And foes are sundered by a larger s.p.a.ce.

The force of fire ascended first on high, And took its dwelling in the vaulted sky; Then air succeeds, in lightness next to fire, Whose atoms from inactive earth retire; Earth sinks beneath and draws a numerous throng Of ponderous, thick, unwieldy seeds along.

About her coasts unruly waters roar, And, rising on a ridge, insult the sh.o.r.e.

Thus when the G.o.d--whatever G.o.d was he-- Had formed the whole, and made the parts agree, That no unequal portions might be found, He moulded earth into a s.p.a.cious round; Then, with a breath, he gave the winds to blow, And bade the congregated waters flow.

He adds the running springs and standing lakes, And bounding banks for winding rivers makes.

Some parts in earth are swallowed up; the most, In ample oceans disembogued, are lost.

He shades the woods, the valleys he restrains With rocky mountains, and extends the plains.

Then, every void of nature to supply, With forms of G.o.ds Jove fills the vacant sky; New herds of beasts sends the plains to share; New colonies of birds to people air; And to their cozy beds the finny fish repair.

A creature of a more exalted kind Was wanting yet, and then was Man designed; Conscious of thought, of more capacious breast, For empire formed and fit to rule the rest; Whether with particles of heavenly fire The G.o.d of nature did his soul inspire, Or earth, but new divided from the sky, And pliant, still retained the ethereal energy.

Thus while the mute creation downward bend Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his own hereditary skies.

FOUR AGES OF MAN.

The poet now describes the Ages, or various epochs in the civilization of the human race. The first is the Golden Age, a period of patriarchal simplicity, when Earth yielded her fruits spontaneously, and spring was eternal.

The GOLDEN AGE was first, when man, yet new, No rule but uncorrupted reason knew, And, with a native bent, did good pursue.

Unforced by punishment, unawed by fear.

His words were simple and his soul sincere; Needless were written laws where none oppressed; The law of man was written on his breast.

No suppliant crowds before the judge appeared, No court erected yet, nor cause was heard, But all was safe, for conscience was their guard.

No walls were yet, nor fence, nor moat, nor mound; Nor drum was heard, nor trumpet's angry sound; Nor swords were forged; but, void of care and crime, The soft creation slept away their time.

The teeming earth, yet guiltless of the plough, And unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow; The flowers, unsown, in fields and meadows reigned, And western winds immortal spring maintained.

The next; or the Silver Age, was marked by the change of seasons, and the division and cultivation of lands.

Succeeding times a SILVER AGE behold, Excelling bra.s.s, but more excelled by gold.

Then summer, autumn, winter did appear, And spring was but a season of the year; The sun his annual course obliquely made, Good days contracted, and enlarged the bad.

Then air with sultry heats began to glow, The wings of wind were clogged with ice and snow; And s.h.i.+vering mortals, into houses driven, Sought shelter from the inclemency of heaven.

Those houses then were caves or homely sheds, With twining osiers fenced, and moss their beds.

Then ploughs for seed the fruitful furrows broke, And oxen labored first beneath the yoke.

Then followed the Brazen Age, which was an epoch of war and violence.

To this came next in course the BRAZEN AGE; A warlike offspring, prompt to b.l.o.o.d.y rage, Not impious yet.

According to He'siod, the next age is the Heroic, in which the world began to aspire toward better things; but OVID omits this altogether, and gives, as the fourth and last, the Iron Age, also called the Plutonian Age, full of all sorts of hards.h.i.+ps and wickedness. His description of it is as follows:

Hard steel succeeded then, And stubborn as the metal were the men.

Truth, Modesty, and Shame the world forsook; Fraud, Avarice, and Force their places took.

Then sails were spread to every wind that blew; Raw were the sailors, and the depths were new: Trees rudely hollowed did the waves sustain, Ere s.h.i.+ps in triumph plough'd the watery plain.

Then landmarks limited to each his right; For all before was common as the light.

Nor was the ground alone required to bear Her annual income to the crooked share; But greedy mortals, rummaging her store, Digged from her entrails first the precious ore; (Which next to h.e.l.l the prudent G.o.ds had laid), And that alluring ill to sight displayed: Thus cursed steel, and more accursed gold, Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief bold; And double death did wretched man invade, By steel a.s.saulted, and by gold betrayed.

Now (brandished weapons glittering in their hands) Mankind is broken loose from moral bands: No rights of hospitality remain; The guest by him who harbored him is slain; The son-in-law pursues the father's life; The wife her husband murders, he the wife; The step-dame poison for the son prepares, The son inquires into his father's years.

Faith flies, and Piety in exile mourns; And Justice, here oppressed, to heaven returns.

The Scriptures a.s.sert that the wickedness of mankind was the cause of the Noachian flood, or deluge. So, also, we find that, in Grecian mythology, like causes led to the deluge of Deuca'lion. Therefore, before giving Ovid's account of this latter event, we give, from Hesiod, a curious account of

THE ORIGIN OF EVIL, AND ITS INTRODUCTION INTO THE WORLD.

It appears from the legend that, during a controversy between the G.o.ds and men, Pro-me'theus, [Footnote: In most Greek proper names ending in 'eus', the 'eus' is p.r.o.nounced in one syllable; as Or'pheus, p.r.o.nounced Or'phuse.] who is said to have surpa.s.sed all his fellow-men in intellectual vigor and sagacity, stole fire from the skies, and, concealing it in a hollow staff, brought it to man. Jupiter, angry at the theft of that which had been reserved from mortals for wise purposes, resolved to punish Prometheus, and through him all mankind, to show that it was not given to man to elude the wisdom of the G.o.ds. He therefore caused Vulcan to form an image of air and water, to give it human voice and strength, and make it a.s.sume the form of a beautiful woman, like the immortal G.o.ddesses themselves. Minerva endowed this new creation with artistic skill, Venus gave her the witchery of beauty, Mercury inspired her with an artful disposition, and the Graces added all their charms. But we append the following extracts from the beautifully written account by Hesiod, beginning with the command which Jupiter gave to Vulcan, the fire-G.o.d:

Thus spoke the sire, whom heaven and earth obey, And bade the fire-G.o.d mould his plastic clay; In-breathe the human voice within her breast; With firm-strung nerves th'elastic limbs invest; Her aspect fair as G.o.ddesses above-- A virgin's likeness, with the brows of love.

He bade Minerva teach the skill that dyes The wool with color's as the shuttle flies: He called the magic of Love's charming queen To breathe around a witchery of mien; Then plant the rankling stings of keen desire And cares that trick the limbs with pranked attire: Bade Her'mes [Footnote: Mercury.] last impart the Craft refined Of thievish manners, and a shameless mind.

He gives command--the inferior powers obey-- The crippled artist [Footnote: Vulcan.] moulds the tempered clay: A maid's coy image rose at Jove's behest; Minerva clasped the zone, diffused too vest; Adored Persuasion and the Graces young Her tapered limbs with golden jewels hung; Round her smooth brow the beauteous-tressed Hours A garland twined of Spring's purpureal flowers.

The whole attire Minerva's graceful art Disposed, adjusted, formed to every part; And last, the winged herald [Footnote: Mercury.] of the skies, Slayers of Argus, gave the gift of lies-- Gave trickish manners, honeyed words instilled, As he that rolls the deepening thunder willed: Then by the feathered messenger of Heaven The name PANDO'RA to the maid was given; For all the G.o.ds conferred a gifted grace To crown this mischief of the mortal race.