hJStS- *n ^ .i» ^ \ ' ■ 4^^\l ■t. r. 301, — 20, for Merm/reus read iVfermerws. 319, — 2, delete the comma after souls, 319, ?2ofe 6, for sec. v. read s. v. 321, — line 4, insert 4 before Commotis sacris. 328, line 7, for referable read referrible, 328, Koie 1, for jD. read u. 331, — 1, line 5, for Aer read^Aim, 347, — 1, — 18, for AntonimtSf Liber 12, read Antoninm Liber. 12, INTRODUCTION SCIMTiriC SYSTEM OF MYTHOLOGY. CHAPTER I. External Idea of the Mythus. In order that our subject may be clearly under- stood, it is first necessary to convey to our readers an idea of the mythus, which will at least enable them to discover and recognise it. What the learned men of Greece, then, called mdoi, and treated as homogeneous materials, in such compilations as the Bibliotheca of ApoUodorus, and the kukKos fivdiKog of Dionysius, consists of a mass of narrations in which the deeds and destinies of individual personages are recorded, and which
z?,) and that Discord brought forth Battle and Slaughter ;^ although these events cannot be regarded as insulated facts, but become, on the contrary, matters of daily occurrence, by the substitution of the abstract idea to cause or oc- casion for the figurative expression to give birth. But it is also clear that the form of a single definite occur- rence belongs, of necessity, to the mythic represen- tation. If you take away the one you destroy the other, and often retain what is nothing more than a figurative proverbial expression, although it may bear a close affinity to the mythus ; as in the well- known and so variously-applied adage of the Greeks, " Pride begets Discontent, Discontent Destruction." In like manner is it a peculiarity of the mythic form that personified beings are introduced, who* although never imagined as entirely human, are* nevertheless, seen to act after the manner of men. From Uranus and Gsea downwards, all mythological beings lead a personal existence. Uranus wills, acts, is pleased, angry, and so forth, while he is, at the same time, constantly represented as the all-en- eircling canopy of heaven.^ But this property of personification is by no means confined to the The- ' Theog., 224 sqq. ^ V. 128, 177- THE MYTHUS, 3 ogony, in which both physical and moral existences and ideas are invested with personality ; it pervades the entire local or heroic mythology. The life-giving Streams from which the earth derives fertility and mankind sustenance, appear as the first progenitorsi and together with them the solid barriers of the country, the Peaks and Ridges of Mountains ; then the District, the City, and the People come into view, and various features of external nature, and the gods themselves, often under names mysterious and hard to be explained, but which, however, we shall not at present touch upon. There liiay be still, indeed, learned men, especially in foreign countries; who will, in spite of everything, assume that there once actually existed a King Inachus, from whom the river had its name ; and a person called Argos, who gave his name to the city. But surely we can, in many instances, learn from the language, that locali- ties received their denomination from their physical charafcter; for example, in this very instance we kndw that Afyos signified a plain, especially one lying close to the sea ; and such precisely vvas the district of Argos.^ In like manner, a town in Ar- cadia was called Cleitor, because it stood in a narrow secltided valley, (from /cXe/w ;) and yet it also ig said to have been called after a hero of that name.^ Thousands of such instances might be collected, if the localities were carefully examined. But the same result is still more clearly deduced from the connected consideration of a local mythology, e. g. the Argiye. Oceanus, the source of all fresh water, begets Inachus, by which name the stream must, ' Orchom., p. 125. * Pausan., viii. 4. 3. 4 EXTERNAL IDEA OF assuredly, have been originally meant ; as water most naturally produces water — ^the great primary water, a smaller and local water. Inachus having married a daughter of Oceanus, begat Phoroneus, the first man, according to the Argive tradition, and there- fore, of course, no historical personage. This Pho- roneus begat Apis, whose name is formed from 'A-n-la, the ancient designation of the Peloponnesus, and Niobe, a mysterious mythological being, whose significance we may, for the present, leave unexamin- ed, without seriously interrupting the connexion. The latter had, by the great god Zeus, the father of gods and men, a son, Argos, the district, and also Pelasgus, the race, according to Acusilaus, the Argive, by whom the tradition was handed down, and from whom the greater part of the story in ApoUodoms was derived ;^ while he, in his turn, drew upon the ancient poem Phoronis.^ The simple consideration of similar legends, those of Arcadia, for instance, would be similarly instructive. But as we do not yet mean to drav? any conclusion with the view to a general explanation of mythi, it is suflicient that we have here pointed out the occasional personifica- tion of localities, &c. We now come to the third point, viz., that the events of which mythi speak, all relate, by the way they are connected and inter- woven, to a time anterior to the historical period, and divided from it by a tolerably distinct boundary. This, again, is perfectly true, if we consider mythi to be nothing more than what they profess to be. In that view they all refer to a period which ter- ' ApoUod., ii. 1. 1. ' See particularly Clem. Alex., Strom, i. p. 321, A. THE MYTHUS. 5 rainated in the series of epic poems called KvkXos WtKos, with Odysseus' last adventures, or there- abouts, and was somewhat further, but not mate- rially, extended by other poets. We find, however, that this definition also can only apply to the form of the mythus ; in other words, that what is really stated in the mythus lies on this side of the boundary, is, in fact, a later occurrence. This can be pointed out in a great number of mythi which indubitably refer to historical events. I shall, however, confine myself to one.^ The Greek city of Gyrene, in Libya, was founded about the 37th Olympiad. The reign- ing family traced their descent from the Minyans, whose chief sway was at lolcus, a city of southern Thessaly. The establishment of the colony was principally the work of the Oracle of Apollo at Pytho. This is represented in a mythus as follows : The heroic virgin Cyrene, who dwelt in Thessaly/ was beloved of Apollo, and carried away by him to Libya.^ But it is not represented as if it had taken place in the 37th Olympiad. In order that it might be at all formed into a mythus, it is translated back to the early heroic age, and Cyrene brought into affinity with the ancient heroes of the Thessalian race, to whom the royal family believed themselves related. We shall have an opportunity hereafter, for example when we come to speak of the mythic expression, of following up these remarks. Here they are merely designed to prove what they do prove : that the above definition of the mythus in ' I have already pointed out this case in my Orchomenos, p. 346. ^ See particularly Pindar; Pyth. 9. 6 EXTERNAL IDEA OF many cases applies solely, to the form, the esuternal appearance. But how can we arrive at an idea of its real nature and import ? Such an idea cannot he attained a priori, as we have it only from experi- ence ; neither is it immediately and of itself inteUi- gihle, being utterly unknown as a product of our times. It is a purely historical idea ; an idea, more- over, by which a creation of very remote ages is to be conceived. It cannot possibly be arrived at otherwise than historically. But how is its his- torical perception possible, the mythus itself being the only source of the idea of the mythus, and ap- pearing, too, in a form different from its contents ? In the statement of an historical fact the form and the contents correspond ; an acquaintance with the language forms the bridge which leads from the one to the other. But here, to us they lie further apart ; and the path must first be sought, is itself a problem. In other words, mythi must be interpreted, must be explained, ere we can attaiu a knowledge of their contents. This must be done in a thousand indi- vidual instances ere we shall be able to seize the essence of the mythus as a generic idea. And then the question still remains, whether we can express the knowledge thus attained by an idea such as passes current among us, or by a simple combination of such ideas; whether we do not find something compounded aiccording to our notions of multifarious, widely-separated, and heterogeneous materials, the union of which is based on a mode of thinking en- tirely different from ours. Were the Greek mythology, that definite whole of narrations, handed down to us alone and by itself, THE MYTHUS. 7 and did we possess no other access to a knowledge of Grecian antiquity, if this can be at all imagined, a systematic and philosophical explanation of my- thology would be quite impossible ; nay, it could not even be shown with certainty that it ought to be understood in any other than the usual sense of the words, that it, in fact, required any explanation at all. And supposing some one should point out the necessity of this by a comparison with the mytholo- gies of other nations, assuming these to have been previously known, the interpretation could be, after all, merely hypothetical, and the merit of any one hypothesis with regard to another would be determin- ed by its superior or inferior capability of affording a general elucidation. Many have actually proceeded in this manner, and have devised very ingenious systems, by which the true meaning of all mythic narrations should be ascertained. But fortunately the case stands otherwise ; and we still possess^ from independent sources, a knowledge of Grecian anti- quity which, in reference to mythology, suffices to furnish starting-points for its true explanation. We know the language, and find from it that many mythological names have a meaning, and that the activity of those to whom they are applied corre- sponds with them ; a circumstance which cannot be regarded as accidental and void of signifl^cance. We know, too, the land of the Greeks, with its rivers, its mountains, and its ruins; and by means of this know- ledge we can often ascertain to what particular spot of the Grecian soil a mythus refers, and, it may bej even the purport of its language regarding it. We know, moreover, the authentic history of Greece, 8 INTERNAL IISISa OF its religion, and its civil institutions, and observe that mythology frequently speaks of their origin and constitution. Nay, the mythic materials, although peculiar in their character, are not so distinctly separ- ated from the other memorials of antiquity, but that they, as it were, pass into each other at the boundary, and stand in a relation of constant transition. Docu- ments purely historical also frequently speak of the same circumstances which are mentioned in mythi ; and ideas expressed by mythology, are, in like manner, reproduced by the ancient philosophers ; nay, some- times, too, clothed by them in mythic drapery. By means of this connexion between mythology and the other sources whence our knowledge of antiquity is obtained, we gain numberless points where we can plainly perceive what it speaks of, and the meaning of its communications. We thus gradually learn to understand its language and manner of expression, and rise by degrees to a systematic and philosopbical knowledge of the subject, CHAPTER II. Steps towa/rds the Internal Idea of the Mythus. It is only by such a gradually progressive method as we have described, that a perfect idea of the nature of the mythus can be attained. We may here, how- ever, though without entering into minute and ex- haustive investigations, determine some points regard- THE MYTHUS. 9 ing it. It is quite clear that two distinct ingredients enter into mythology; viz., the statement of things done, and things imagined. With regard to the lat- ter, there can be no doubt whatever : for when Hesiod mentions that the Earth gave birth to the Heavens, he does not relate a fact ; but he, at all events, expresses a notion, opinion, or whatever it may be called. It might be more easily doubted whether actual events are to be found in mythology ; but, in the first place, it would surely be strange if the form of nar- ration of actions and destinies should contain nothing at all really and directly corresponding to itself ; and then authentic history frequently furnishes a test whereby the facts of a mythic narration may be verified. To give an example, by way of illustration : The Achaean tribe, within the historical period, dwelt on the northern coast of the Peloponnesus. Now, the mythus states that the Achaean prince, Tisamenus, having been expelled by the Dorians from Argos, took refuge in that region. But, perhaps, it will be ob- jected that this event stands on the confines of his- tory, and the account of it must, therefore, be regarded as historical. This once granted, we penetrate far- ther into mythology, and find that two sons of Achseus, who (to pass by whatever may admit of dispute) either denote the tribe, or conducted it, re- moved to Argos from Phthiotis.-^ We always find, therefore, a chain of facts leading from history into mythology. It might, indeed, be said that the mythic statement is merely a conclusion drawn by the in- ventor of the mythus, in order, as it were, to give the Achaeans a mythological footing in Argos ; but ' Fauean., vii. 1. 3. 10 INTERNAL IDEA OF on such an assumption, the enigma would remain to be solved, why this statement or invention corresponds so exactly with the numerous traditions of the Achae- ans in JPhthiotis. It must then be alleged that both series of mythi were invented by the same per- son, or that the author of the one meant to follow up the invention of the other : suppositions which, in the sequel, will be shown to be inadmissible. We still, then, come to the result, that real events also are re- corded in mythi. These two elements, fact and imagination, the Real and the Idecd, to use expressions which ought to be as general as possible, often appear very closely united in a mythic relation. Numberless examples might be adduced. I shall select one which stands, so to speak, at the apex of Greek literature, — ^the story of Chryseisj in the first book of the Iliad. I take it from this source without, for the present, endeavour- ing to discriminate between the mythus itself and its poetical treatment. The Greeks had conquered and laid waste Hypoplaeian Thebes, near the Trojan ter- ritory, and carried away captive from the neighbour- ing temple of Chryse, the daughter of Chryses the priest. The father wished to ransom her ; but his application was harshly refused, and he himself in- sulted, by Agamemnon, to whom she had fallen at the division of the spoil. Hereupon Apollo, the god of the sanctuary, at the prayer of Chryses, sent vdth his arrows into the camp of the Greeks a pestilence, destructive both to men and animals. We know that the temple actually stood in the situation referred to. Traces of it were seen in later times ;^ and the appel- ■ Stra., xiii. 605. THE MYTHUS. 11 lation of Smintheus, which the priest in Homer gives to. his god, was still preserved in the district. Thus far, then, at all events, are actual circumstances em- bodied in the mythus. On the other hand, the action of the deity, as such, is purely ideal. It can have no other foundation than the belief that Apollo sternly resents ill usage of his priests, and that too in the way here represented ; viz., by sending plagues. This belief is in perfect harmony with the idea generally entertained by the ancients, of the power and agency of ApoUo ; and it is manifest that this idea, placed in combination with certain events, gave birth to the story, so far as relates to the god. We have not yet before us the means of ascertaining whether it is to be held as an historical tradition or an invention, and must, therefore, leave that question for the present undecided. , The Real and the Ideal are often still more closely united, and the one still more completely taken up into the other. When, for example, tradition relates that Demeter, in her wanderings, came to Eleusis, served there as a maid, and taught the Eleusinians their mysteries ; it is plain that the main narrative is founded only on belief, and is not a statement of any- thing that had been actually seen. With it the fact of the actual existence of the goddess' worship at Eleusis is incorporated and interwoven. This union, indeed, is found in most mythi; and there are probably few in which something real and something ideal might not be pointed out. Nay, if I may be thus early allowed to hint at a result of further investigation, the older the mythus the more intimately blended are its real and imaginary con- 12 INTERNAL IDEA OF stituents. Consequently, the distinction between historical and philosophical mythi, on which so much stress was formerly laid, is of proportionally more limited applicability, and only a small part can, by means of it, be separated from the entire mass and classified. If we proceed, in the manner proposed, from simple and clear to mdre complicated examples, and always endeavour to ascertain what refers to fact and what to idea, we are led to aim at a more accurate deter- mination of the relations which subsist between these two elements of the mythus ; and even where sure starting-points fail, to find out, if possible, from analogy the boundary which divides them. It being here our object to obtain a preliminary idea of the real nature of the mythus, it will yet be necessary, for this purpose, that we endeavour to Btrrive at some determinations as to the manner in which these two ingredients enter into its composition. Let us first inquire into the imaginary, the Ideal, in the mythus. The question regarding it cannot be answered unless we separate the theogonical portion of mythology from the rest. In the former, a crowd of ideas immediately present themselves to the mind of the inquirer in tolerably distinct expression ; in the latter, a much smaller number meet his view. When it is related that Zeus enclosed Metis, " Wisdom," in his body, in order that that goddess might make known to him good and evil,^ the fundamental idea that wisdom resides in the supreme Deity shines clearly through. When it is said that Night bore to Erebus, Ether and Daylight," the physical idea so common among the ' Theog., 886. ' Ibid., 124. THE MYTHUS. 13 ancients, that light sprang out of darkness, is thereby expressed. In like manner, we find in Hesiod's Theogony, in so far as we understand them with cer- tainty, a great variety of notions laid down regarding the pristine and the present form of this world, the essence and power of the gods, and the relation of man to a higher nature: notions which, taken in connexion, constitute a kind of philosophy, if we throw aside what belongs to religion. The case is precisely similar with the Orphic cosmogonies, in which, however, there is a great deal that must be referred to a much later period ; but the best solu- tion, in regard to the nature of this representation, is afforded by the cosmogony of Pherecydes of Syros, in which it is impossible not to recognise philosophi- cal ideas clothed in mythi. But nine-tenths 6f the Grecian mythi are of a totally different hind. Their scenes are laid in particular districts of Greece ; and they speak of the Primeval inhabitants, of the lineage and adventures of native heroes, &c. A consfderation of these legends will soon show that a comprehensive connexion of the Ideal is not to be looked for in their original form. They are, evidently, not the work of one or a few persons, as may be seen from this cir- cumstance of itself, that they manifest an accurate acquaintance with individual localities, which, at a time when Greece was neither explored by antiquaries, nor did geographical hand-books exist, could be pos- sessed only by the inhabitants of those localities. Accordingly, any attempt to explain these mythi in order, — such, for instance, as we now find them in ApoUodorus, — as a system of thought and knowledge, must prove a fruitless task. Such a systematic 14 INTERNAL IDEA OF coherence could, at most, extend merely to smaller portions orgiiially connected. Here, however, our inquiry is restricted to the Ideal, as it is exhibited in the heroic or local mythus. If we read mythi simply^ and without straining after interpretation, there is only one point where the Idfeal uniformly meets the view — the continual agency of the gods. They are the same deities that were worshipped in the temples of Greece. They act, too, almost always in consistency with the character ascribed to them by their worship- pers ; and, therefore, it is clear that these narrations are an expression of belief in the gods of the country, a profession of religion, (the source of which, however, we shall not yet try to determine, nor even touch the question whether the gods may have originally sprung out of philosophemes.) Religion is therefore, in addi- tion to histoty, the only element which stands out pro- minently at the first consideration of the heroic or local mythology. But the more deeply the subject is ex- amined, the more does faith in the gods gain space and importance. We find that they very often ap- pear under names which they do not usually bear, but which are formed from their ancient appellatives; and that the mythus, as it has been handed down to us, while it may contain no direct intimation that it speaks of a god, does, nevertheless, frequently exhibit traces which must lead a reflecting mind to that persuasion. It may be proper that an example of this kind should be here fully developed. Modern investigations have already brought a number of them to light. The goddess Artemis was worshipped in a peculiar manner at Brauron in Attica. The vir- THE MYTHUS. 15 gins who served her were called a|0/cTot "she-bears."^ Hence it follows that the bear was held sacred to the goddess. Now Artemis was also worshipped in Arcadia; and there are indications, too, that her worship there corresponded, in several points, to that which was observed at Brauron. But the mythus informs us that Callisto, the daughter of Lyeaon, was her constant attendant in Arcadia, and her com- panion in the chase, until she becamie pregnant by Zeus, and was changed, by the wrath of the chaste goddess, into a bear, in which form she gave birth to Areas, the father of the Arcadian people. So the legend ran in a Hesibdic poem, according to the ex- tract in Eratosthenes.^ In another poetical work, also ascribed to Hesiod, Callisto is called a nymph.^ Now, we set out from this, that the circumstance of the goddess, who is served at Brauron by she-bears, having a friend and companion chdnged into a bear, cannot possibly be a freak of chance, but that this metamorphosis has its foundation in the fact that the animal was sacred to the goddess. In this way only can the mythus, and at the same time the religious observance, be accounted for, and their connexion un- derstood : for^ were any one to think also of deriving the latter from the former, he could only, however, do so, if the metaniorphosis of her nymph by the goddess into a bgar, of all animals, was not accidental ; and this, again, gtill brings us back to the sacredness of the animaL But hence, also, it follows that Hesiod I See the Attic dramatists in Harpocr., a^xTsueai, Aristoph. Lysistr., 645, &c. ^ Catast. I. Hygin. Poet. Astron., ii. 1., p. 419, Staveren. ' ApolL, iii. 8. 2. 16 INTERNAL IDEA OF no longer handed down the mythus in its original shape ; for it would surely have been a glaring in- consistency in the ancient mythus, if Artemis should, in her anger, and as a punishment, bestow on her nymph the form of an animal sacred to herself. The supposition of an alteration is further supported by the observation, which, however, we cannot here prove, that the virginity of Artemis, being an idea generally received by the poets, was transferred to the service of the goddess, even in places where an entirely different notion regarding her originally pre- vailed. With precisely the same view, later poets introduced the favourite fable of Hera's jealousy, and made Zeus himself, from dread of it, transform Cal- listo into a bear, as he had changed lo into a cow. It is therefore clear that CaUisto became a bear, in the original legend, for this reason only, that that animal was sacred to Arcadian Artemis. We know further, that in the time of Pausanias, a temple to Artemis KaWta-rri, " the most beautiful," stood in Arcadia near Mount Msenala ; on a high earthen mound too, where, as that writer states, it was be- lieved that CaUisto had been buried.^ The appella- tive of the goddess cannot have been formed from the name of the nymph, as the latter is evidently the derivative, the former the original ; besides, that appellative was widely diffused through other parts of Greece, where the Arcadian Callisto was but little regarded. Artemis was called KaXX/oTi? by Sappho ;^ and also in a hymn by Pamphus whom Pausanias reckons more ancient than the Lesbian ' VIII. 35. 7. ' Pausan., i. 29. 2. THE MYTHUS. 17 poetess.^ In Attica, where these hymns had their home, there was a wooden image called KaXKia-rtj in the temple dedicated to Artemis, in the Academy.^ The goddess is styled, by Attic tragedians, d KoKd, by way of eminence, and as if this were her peculiar title. But as the name of Callisto is manifestly con- nected with the designation of the goddess, we must in- fer thatKaXXjo-Tw is the latter's title of honour changed into a proper name ; and we thus arrive at the inevit- able conclusion, that Callisto is just nothing else than the goddess and her sacred animal comprehended in one idea. This much is evident from what has been adduced ; but in order to point at the connexion to which it belongs, it is sufficient to remark, that the ancient Arcadian fancied his Artemis to be a goddess of nature, who haunted lakes and fountains; who supplied with food and drink, and brought to matur- ity the young of wild animals, as well as the offspring of man ; and to whom, therefore, the most powerful creatures in nature, such as the bear, were sacred ; although, as the source of youth, growth, and bloom, she might also be called " the most beautiful," in accordance with the ideas of primeval humanity.' We come back, therefore, to the position, in proof of which we adduced this example, that mythological research frequently discovers objects of Grecian deifi- cation, even where they did not at first present them- selves to the eye. But with these ideas of the gods themselves, an- other class, which may be termed ethical — funda- mental ideas of morality and justice — -were united » Pausan., viii. 35. 7. * Ibid., i. 29. 2. ^ Dorians, vol. i. p. 390, 8qq. 18 INTERNAL IDEA OF from an early period among the Greeks ; and are, in like manner, to be found expressed in their mythi. I may refer to that of Lycaon, as a well-known in- stance. Zeus once visited him, or his sons, in humble disguise ; and in consequence of their having served up to him human flesh, destroyed their whole race. Whatever else this mythus may contain, it certainly expresses horror of anthropophagy. If I herewith connect the assertion, that the greater portion of the Ideal in heroic mythology, relates either directly or re- motely, mediately or immediately, to theworship of the gods, the point, indeed, cannot at present be settled by proof, as a very complete induction would be required for that purpose ; but whoever has made himself familiar with interpretations of -mythology, whether ancient or modern, which aimed at discovering and unfolding from its materials some other system of knowledge and thought, — astronomical truths, max- ims in practical philosophy, or whatever else it might be, — while he may have been struck with the pliability of particular portions of the matter to be explained, in adapting themselves, as it were, to the end in view, must, at the same time, have pronounced the interpretation, as a whole, to be forced, frigid, and unsatisfactory. Let us, therefore, without rejecting anything of that kind, merely hold back, and wait for the development of individual cases; and should we find that it leads us from the certain to the uncertain, so as to explain the latter by the former, we shall joyfully appropriate the result. At all events it is not a rare case to recognise in my- thology even portraits of human character, sometimes spun out from particular persons, far across the limits THE MYTHUS. 19 of tradition — witness the stories of the cunning of SisypiuSjWand sometimes not traceable to any per- sonal history at all, as in the legends of Prometheus and Epimetheus.^ We also recognise representa- tions of a physical nature ; in iEolus, for example, (who is brought into connexion with heroic genealo- gies,) with whom the Homeric legend makes plea- sant sport; in Typhoeus who is born in volcanic regions, fights and lies bound, &c. Altogether, we have no ground whatever for ex- cluding, beforehand, any class of thoughts and ideas from the mythic representation, if it can be at all supposed that they lay within the sphere of intellec- tual activity in those primitive ages. On the con- trary, it is highly probable that a complete body of thought and knowledge is contained, in mythology. For the mythic expression which converts all powers and existences into persons, and all relations into ac- tions, is at all events so peculiar in its character, that we must suppose for its cultivation a particular epoch in the civilisation of a people. This mode of blend- ing together fact and idea in one narration, could not originate and become current at a time when men were accustomed to express distinctly, and keep sepa- rate from each other, mere matters of speculation and the pure results of experience. But if the mythic expression were, at one period of Grecian civilisation', so prevalent and universal, it must also have been found well adapted as a vehicle for such thoughts and inventions of that period as seemed deserving of communication in an impressive form, and may, there- ' Welcker in Schwenk's Etymol. Mythol., Andent., p. 323. * I refer to Welcker's Mythol. of the Japet. from the beginning. 20 INTERNAL IDEA OF fore, have been very extensively employed. In shortj as we must assume a time when the mythic form of representation more especially flourished, we must also assume that the intellectual treasures of that time were, by means of it, handed down in a certain degree of completeness. This mode of reasoning does not, however, by any means lead us to a knowledge of the notions con- tained in mythology. They were those that lay within the sphere of ideas at that time ; but how can we learn what these were, except by decyphering mythology itself, the only source of history for that period to which we have access ? To determine beforehand, from some philosophy of history, that only certain ideas are to be looked for in the creations which emanated from the rude and barbarous infancy of mankind, and that these, therefore, should be ex- tricated from the mass, can lead to no historical in- sight. In fact, there is perhaps no prejudice more dangerous than this. It has been long cherished, and is still entertained by many who, instead of ap- plying to history for instruction, begin by attempting to set it right. " We must not," say they, "seek for profound or beautiful ideas in the mythus, which de- rived its existence solely from poverty of direct ex- pression, ab ingenii humani imbecillitate et a dictionis egestate." Instead, therefore, of investigating why that epoch of Grecian humanity, above all others, employed this mode of expression, they at once de- cide that it expressed itself in this strange manner because it was too coarse and dull for any other. Now, is not this precisely as if I should answer the question, why the Greeks cultivated poetry alone THE MYTHUS. 21 until about the 50th Olympiad, by saying that they were too irrational and unintellectual for prose ? Verily, no 1 every period of history has its preroga- tive ; only we must not seek to pluck roses from the corn-stalk, nor ears of corn from the rose. We ought to be grateful to the olden time, for the invention of mythi, from which the poetry of the Greeks burst forth into bloom, and at length gave birth to our own ; no matre pulchrd Jilia pulchrior. How would elder antiquity have been despised, did not the tran- scendantly beautiful and god-like form of Homer stand at its very threshold, with his refined and highly expressive language, and his exquisite harmony of versification ! But it is according to this analogy that we must pass judgment on the ages lying behind, which appeared so august to Homer himself, and in which^a notable intimation this from the early world — ^heroes themselves, like the reposing Achilles, sang the deeds of other heroes to the lyre. And must not, then, even the first dawnings of the glorious and beautiful, give indications of its native character ? Or must a law which holds good of every other species, be regarded as inapplicable to the nations and races of mankind? In short, the above conclu- sion merely warns us not to shut our eyes wilfully against anything while engaged in mythological re- search, not even against ideas of original beauty and purity ; and, above all, not to undertake the task of interpretation with a one-sided tendency to a certain limited class of ideas. We have hitherto merely sought to establish some points with regard to the Ideal element of the mythus, and left the Real untouched. It is not so difficult a 22 SOURCES OF OUB KNOWLEDGE question to determine how the latter stands : for as the mythus has the form of narration, and actual occurrences cannot be presented in any other, the ex- pression and substance correspond much more closely in this element of mythology than in the former ; it is, therefore, also much easier to ascertain what classes of events are introduced. Genealogies of heroes ; their adventures, wanderings, and marriages ; the conquest of cities and territories, form the staple of heroic or local mythology ; and although much of this, in conformity with the preceding observations, must fall to the ground as mythic expression, (for even tribes figure as individuals, and what is not pro- perly fact is often represented as such,) yet it cannot be doubted that traditions of the life and actions of heroic chieftains in the early days of Greece, form the great bulk, and have given a colour to the whole. CHAPTER III. The Sources of the Mythus, or rather of owr Knowledge of it. In the foregoing remarks, I have carefully abstained from laying dowTi, at so early a stage of our investiga- tion, general and exhaustive determinations regarding the nature of the mythus. I have urged throughout, that researches alone, which enter into individual cases, as well as strive to embrace the whole subject, can lead to such determinations. But, indeed, the entire object of this little treatise is to point out the OF THE MYTHUS. 23 way, to show the method of conducting investigations of this nature. The first question regards the sources of the my- thus. Whence have we obtained mythic narrations, whence did they originate ? To many this will appear to he one and the same question; hut we shall soon see that there are two here put, differing widely from each other. We who are separated from antiquity by many centuries, can only acquire a knowledge of Grecian mythi from the literary memorials and monuments of art bequeathed by the ancients. The latter, how- ever, form only a subordinate supplementary class of sources ; for, did we possess no literary records — to which belong even the inscriptions on reliefs and pictures — ^the world of ancient art, as regards its historical value, which must be held distinct from its general significance to humanity, would have been utterly closed against us. It is possible, indeed, and sometimes even actually happens, that works of art exhibit mythic personages, already otherwise Jenown to us, in situations and actions to which no allusion is made in the writings of the ancients ; and such cases, doubtless, constitute a valuable accession to our mythological knowledge. They are, however, comparatively rare, and the information they afford is always, from the circumstance referred to, rather supplementary than altogether new. Literary docu- ments, on the other hand, are intelligible by them- selves, and their contents can be deciphered without the aid of works of art ; although, certainly, the latter throw additional light on the communications of the former. Almost all classes of writers, as well in prose as 24 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE in poetry, here come under our consideration ; epic, lyric, and dramatic poets, together with authors of hymns, elegies, and idyls; logographers, mythograph- ers, historians, orators, sophists, lexicographers, scholi- asts, and ecclesiastical writers. There are probably very few authors of antiquity in whom some mytho- logical notice is not to be found ; and amid such a mass and variety of sources, it becomes difficult to discover how they can all be made available. How- ever, from the literary character itself, and from the designs and aims of these various authors, as well in their works in general, as in their treatment of the mythus in particular, a conclusion may be drawn as to the method of this treatment. "We shall try what can be done in this way with some of them. The contents of the two great poems of Homer are, according to the definition given above, of an entirely mythic character. They treat divers series of legends, which stand in close uninterrupted con- catenation, and only here and there take notice of others lying apart from this connexion : these series, moreover, are so handled, as to form each a rounded off and complete whole.^ Whatever is brought into action in these poems, acts in human fashion. Gods behave after the manner of men ; nay, even horses of divine breed feel ; and swine, though merely enchanted, think. The actions recorded are carried out into their most minute details ; and the will which begets the deed, and the thought which prompts the will, are exhibited with equal precision. All hearts are ' I must here remark, that whatever judgment may be formed as to the origin of these wholes, I think I must, with others, assume the aiming at, the endeavour to produce them, to have been given in the first germ and commencement. OF THE MYTHUS. 25 laid open to the poet's eye. With all this apparent fidelity of representation, the marvellous is by no means excluded: and if the poet never exalts the deeds of his heroes, the main actions, beyond the limits of possibility; on the other hand, the influence of an upper and nether, a purely ideal supernatural world, is powerfully exerted in the way of cause and cooperation. But this imaginary is, in so many re- spects, modelled after the real world, that we are scarcely ever reminded of the marvellous, and follow the poet with a species of faith. This linking to- gether into a whole, this circumstantiality of descrip- tion, this systematic exposition of the motives to action, together with the treatment of the wonderful, may here be already laid down as principles of my- thic representation in the Homeric poems; but, on the other hand, it may also be observed, that all these properties are yet perfectly compatible with the design to relate the actual and true. The reflecting mind may gather this from the praise bestowed on Demodocus by Odysseus, for having sung the sad fates of the Achseans in strict order, and conformably to truth; the chief excellence of the dea-Tm api§!j being made to consist precisely in that quality.^ But with regard to the relations in which Homer, generally speaking, stands to tradition and history, some obser- vations will be communicated in a following chapter. Hesiod's Theogony, in like manner, furnishes a relation, in the historical form, wherein the charaicters who first appear are the chief objects and elements of external nature, as the Earth, the Heavens, and the Sea ; then come into action an order of beings called ' Od., viii. 489 sqq. 26 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE Titans, evidently belonging in part to the sensible, and partly to an ideal world ; and these, again, are succeeded by the gods who were usually worshipped in the tem- ples of Greece. The sequel takes in the descendants of these three classes of beings, their marriages and progeny, their wars and combats. It is manifest that the gods to whom dominion is ascribed in this poem, are the same that were adored in ancient Greece. This, indeed, is pointed out by the poet in regard to Hecate,^ to the Aphrodite worshipped in Cyprus and Cythera, and others. The heroes, too, are those that were already celebrated in Grecian mythi. If this were not the case, and we were to suppose that these names here bore a signification different from what they bear in the religion and legends of Greece, then must the poet have made it his deliberate aim to impose upon his hearers, or he must have been deceived him- self, in the same way, by a more ancient bard, — suppositions which would, at aU events, require a very strong foundation. If the contrary is clear, it follows that even the original framer of the Theogony adopted previously-existing materials into his connex- ion. For the estimate we should form of the propor- tion which these bear to his own creations, we must, in like manner, refer the reader to a following chapter. From the so-called Cyclic Epopees, the astonish- ingly copious Eoeos of Hesiod, and the genealogical epic poets, such as Eumelus and Asius, we have a considerable mass of fragments and notices, which enable us to form a judgment as to the treatment of. the materials in all these works. We know that the poems just mentioned bear less resemblance to a circle ' V. 417. OF THE MYTHUS. 27 than to a line indefinitely prolonged ; inasmuch as their authors frequently strung together numerous legendary stories on a very loose thread, without pos- sessing the Homeric art of connecting with each other the beginning and the end. Further, we know also from these fragments, that heje the events re- corded were not so well accounted for, evolved, and detailed, that they stood more naked in the relation. If Homer may be compared to a regular historian, they may be rather said to resemble annalists and chroniclers.^ Hence it is plain, that the predominant aim of these poetical works was to hand down legends undisguised by drapery, that their main object was the transmission of mythi. To.make these the ground of so animated a picture of the human soul as Homer produced, was a task for which perhaps they altogether wanted genius. The Lyric had a far more definite aim than the epic poets, not only in the composition of their works, but also in the treatment of the mythus. They wrote to celebrate the festival of a deity, to extol a con- queror at public games ; they wrote for banquets and funeral solemnities. Accordingly, they selected mythi suitable to such occasions; a,nd it may readily be sup- posed that they also often adapted the story to their design. Besides, there were other motives of various kinds for altering a mythus : a certain moral criti- cism, in particular, exercised a great modifying influ- ence. Stesichorus had employed this sort of criticism • in the character of Helen, as it is exhibited in the current mythi ; but he afterwards sought to atone for • See e. g. the fragment of the Ewce, which now forma the in- troduction to the liesiodio 'Aasr;'». 28 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE his offence by a palinode, where, in order that he might free the heroine from all reproach, he availed himself of a probably very obscure tradition, then still existing, that she had never been carried away to Troy. Pindar altered a number of mythi, because they did not harmonize with his own pure and ele-f vated conceptions of the dignity of gods and heroes ;^ and must therefore, in his judgment, be untrue. He was not actuated, then, by a species of letity, to which mythi might seem nothing more than mere indifferent materials of poetical treatment, but on the contrary by a regard for truth. A remarkable cir- cumstance must here be noticed. Pindar never doubts in the least that the mythus really relates a fact; and the presence of the wonderful disturbs him so little, that he never shows the slightest disposition to dis- solve that cooperation of the divine and the human nature, which is the distinguishing characteristic of the mythus. He only thinks, that in many cases the fact was from the very first distorted, either through ignorance or evil design;^ and especially, that "stories decked out beyond the bounds of truth, with many- coloured fictions, had misled the minds of men ; for that grace which bestows on mortals all that gives delight, obtained for them belief, and often caused what should be distrusted to pass for truth."^ In accordance with this, he says elsewhere: " I think that the legends of Odysseus are drawn out by the mellifluous Homer further than his destinies extended; for a certain dignity dwells in his fictions and winged art, and his genius insensibly deludes the mind with ' Comp. Pyth. iii. 27, ix. 45. ^ Olymp. i. 47. ' Olymp. i. 28., according to Bockh's reading. OF THE MYTHUS. 29 fables. But the mass of mankind are blind in soul."^ Pindar therefore distinguishes the nucleus of the le- gend, which he considers true, from the additions and embellishments of the poets. In connexion with this it must be stated, that, according to his view, a story may be very old, and yet, at the same time, quite new as a poem. Thus, in the ninth Olympic ode, he em- bodies legends concerning the mythic ancestors of the Opuntic Locrians, regarding which it did not occur to him to signify that they were invented in late times, or indeed invented at all. But until then they were not sung; for he introduces them with the re- mark, "Praise indeed old wine, but the blossoms of new song. "^ In like manner we know that the legend of the sun-god's occupation of Rhodes, celebrated by Pindar in the seventh Olympic ode, had been re- corded in no previous work ; in none at least known to the ancient commentators on the poet.* But the traditions on this subject do not appear to him the less ancient on that account ("We are told by old traditions of men.") Great value, in mythological research, ought to be attached to the lyric poets, especially Pindar, from this very circumstance, that they occupied themselves with the legends of indivi- dual cities, for which they composed their poems, whether designed for the celebration of gods or men. Upon those whom a legend most closely concerned, and who must have known it most accurately, they could not hope to palm oif for truth a fabrication of their own. Although they introduced much that was ornamental, yet, in these very cases, a certain degree ' Nem. vii. 20. « Ibid. v. 52. ' Scholia to Olymp. 54. (100.) 30 SOUECES OF OUE KNOWLEDGE of fidelity in the transmission of mythi is to be ex- pected from them. On this point the matter stands otherwise with the Tragic writers. The laws of this species of com- position, in the first place, and secondly, the constant relation of their works to one and the same limited public, must have given a peculiar direction to the treatment of mythi. It was necessary that these should be adapted to a tragedy, that they should possess the tragic character, and be wound up in the way that a production of that nature required. At all events, there was great temptation to help out the imythus, to give it a more tragic form, a more com- plete denouement, more "jrepirereia than it had in its original connexion. The people of Attica were the public before whom all these riches were laid, al- though but a small proportion of them was the pro- duce of their soil. Poets wish to please, especially those for whom they write, even when they find them- selves engaged in a sort of contest with the public. It was therefore quite natural that the legendary dish, to carry out a figure of -lEschylus, should be often made to suit the Attic palate ; that whatever tasted bitter to the national pride of that people should be extracted, and on the contrary something added of an agreeable relish. This is easily con- ceived by any one who knows what food for their patriotic pride the Greek cities found in their mythi, and who reflects why it was that Theseus, of all the Grecian heroes, should be such a democrat. We find, however, when we come to particular cases, that ^schylus and Sophocles yielded much less to these temptations, and adhered much more faithfully to OF THE MYTHUS. 31 tradition, than Euripides, with whom two additional circumstances aided this propensity to innovation. First, The want of new materials, which compelled him to take up subjects already handled more than once, and to alter them in some essential points, if he did not wish to sing an old song. Secondly, The enlightenment which had then begun to break in. iEschylus and Sophocles still believed, and the gods stood before them as real existences, invested with personality; although, nevertheless, the former some- times speaks of the Divine and the gods in the spirit of an ancient, deeply speculative and partly Orphic philosophy, which is often still enigmatical to us; and the latter occasionally, but without the least hostility towards religion, refers to the opinions of philoso- phers, e.g. regarding Helius,^ the begetter of all things. But in Euripides a kind of philosophizing, certainly somewhat vague and wavering, almost entirely sup- planted the religion of mythology, although the nature of tragic composition required that the latter should enter into it as a principal ingredient. But Zeus is to him no longer an actual and personal existence. Under this name sometimes the ether is meant, and sometimes the necessity of nature; nay, even the intellect of man.^ There is also observable in him an arbitrary striving to unite several divine persons into one {QeoKpaaia.Y Traditions, therefore, must either have appeared to him the mere playthings of poetry, or a particular mode of enouncing philosophemes ;* and as he readily adopted innovations — that of Stesi- ' Frm. inc. 91. Br. * Troades, 891. Valckenser, Diatr. Eurip. t. vi. * Bouterweck, Commentat. Soc. Gott. rec. iv. p. 859. Dorians, \.A. i. p. 311. * See particularly Bacchae, 285. 32 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE chorus, for instance, in the mythus of Helen, and that of Pindar in the mythus of Pelops,— we must not expect from him any particular fidelity in the trans- mission of what he received. It is not easy to say anything, in a general way, of the Alexandrian poets, and those of Rome who bore affinity to them. Many of them, indeed, sported with the mythus, but rather when they treated it by the way in a humorous and playful manner, than in the epos. On the whole, the mythic material was to them an object of learned investigation, and even learned ostentation; which it must certainly have ceased to be, so soon as they allowed themselves the free exercise of invention. Callimachus, Parthenius, Lycophron, Euphorion, searched for strange, little- known, and half-forgotten fables,^ from every nook and corner : whence it may be inferred, that the less a legend was known, the more would it attract and charm the lovers of mythology. But if these poets themselves took the liberty of making as many new fables as they required, they certainly assumed, with regard to the rest, the merit of industrious compila- tion ; and as they could not, however, always name their sources, they also claimed every degree of faith. If, therefore, Euphorion really created new fables, he must have been guided by indications, and arrived at them by certain trains of reasoning, nearly in the same way that he ventured to coin new words. The most striking example of fable-invention is perhaps furnished by Ovid's Metamorphoses. Ovid certainly collected whatever transformations he could discover in former poets and other authors, and wreathed them ' Meineke de Euphorione, p. 46. OF THE MYTHUS. S3 together, in a very ingenious manner, into aperpetuum carmen ; for which latter purpose he imagines, for example, in the first book, a meeting of the rivers at the Peneus ; in the second, a conversation between Epaphus and Phaethon: but I do not believe that there is, in the whole book, a regular fable which can be ascribed to the author's invention. On the con- trary, he is embarrassed by the materials of his learned collection, and dismisses a number of fables with a few verses, because he thinks he ought not to omit them. It is quite a different thing, indeed, with Italian mythology, — a mass of obscure and unintelli- gible traditions, which must needs be converted into Grecian fables, and with which Virgil and Ovid went to work with great freedom, often assuming the task of creation. But notwithstanding every attempt, a mythology, in the Greek sense of the word, was never formed from these materials. Among the prose-writers, the Logographers are of most importance to us. They correspond to the authors of the Cyclic Epics and the Eoese in poetry. For the most part, they evidently aimed at nothing further than the transmission of legends just as they received them ; but for the convenience of the reader, they connected them more closely than they are to be found in the poets. The epic authors were their chief sources; and hence it is said of the more ancient logographers, particularly Acusilaus, that they only translated the poetical works which lay before them into prose. Numberless, also, are the passages where the epics they drew frdm can be pointed out. The idea that they collected these mythi merely for the purpose of illustrating the D 34. SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE poets, is totally inconsistent with the character of those times. It is manifest that they looked upon them as something in itself worthy of being known. They relate them, in plain and simple language, as events that had taken place iu the olden heroic world of wonders. This applies at least to Acusilaus, Phe- recydeS, and Hellanicus, in whose fragments I can, after careful examination, nowhere discover any de- sire to suppress the marvellous. It was at the same time, however, their design to arrange the mythi, and bring them into coherence: but in this the ex- ample had been already set by the cyclic and genea- logical epic poets. In this process, it would often naturally happen that some would be preferred and adopted, while others would be rejected and omitted, A Sort of criticism must have been exercised. It would be very desirable to know the principles of this criticism. It may, however, be deduced from the nature of the subject, as well as from occasional traces, that they gave way, in the first place, to par- tiality for the legends of their native city : as Acusi- laus the Argive, for example, calls his countryman Phoroneus, the first man ; secondly, that they were infiuenced by the notions of deity and humanity which then prevailed ; and, thirdly, and most especially, that they decided, according to what the connexion required, whether a mythus was true or false. To give an example, we find among the ancients a great diversity of opinion as to the person for saving whom from death, Esculapius was himself struck dead by Jupiter with a thunderbolt.^ Pherecydes said he was killed for raising the dead to life at Delphi : for he ' ApoUod., iii. 10. 3. Schol. Find., P. 3. 96. OF THE MYTHUS. 35 connected the event in quefetion with a Delphic tra- dition of Apollo's flight.^ This tendency to selection was likewise increased by the endeavour to introduce into the mythi a sort of chronology. Hellanicus went so far as to calculate the fall of Troy, from indications in ancient poets, to the very day, and, at the same time, to the year of the Argive priestess of Juno ; whilst he carried the catalogue of these priestesses, probably derived from Argive records of reputed antiquity, through the mythic ages as far back as lo.^ It is clear, from what has been said, that these writers have rendered an important service. By means of their labours (what Would have been otherwise inexplicable) the genealogies of heroes, which originated in so many different places, are disposed in tolerable order, and maintain a certaiin synchronical harmony. Nay, we have perhaps to regard them, in the inain, as the creators of the mythological system that prevailed among later writers. However, as this system is by no means founded on philosophic views and searching criticism, but rests, for the most part, on belief in the mythus, it cannot be made directly available for our object. On the contrary, we must try to take it asunder, and, in so far as it was the work of these compilers^ to destroy it ; and, in doing so, we must chiefly look for assistance to data disregarded by them, concealed in some corner, and often wrapt in obscurity. A trace, howevet, of general mythological criticism is to be found in the fragment of Hecatseus given by Demetrius.^ " Thus says Hecataeus of Mi- ' Fragm. Sturz., ed. alt. p. 82 sq. * Frag'm, ed. Sturz.^ pp. 77, 151 sqq. It is even not impossible ttt restore, in a general way, from the fragments, the mythic chronology of Hellanicus. ^ Dem. mgl eo/iTjv. §12. • 36 SOURCES OF OUE KNOWLEDGE letus, ' I write according to my view of the truth : for the narrations of the Greeks are various, and, in my opinion, ridiculous.' " In the choice of mythi, there- fore, he followed his own views, which were enlight- ened by the Ionic philosophy, and rejected many popular traditions which he considered childish; nay, he even interpreted in many, for instance, in that of the infernal monster Cerberus, who, according to his explanation, was a serpent at the promontory of Tsenarum. The opinion, that a, pragmatic treatment of the mythus is to be found as early as Dionysius Milesius, rests on the supposition that he was the source from which Diodorus drew; but it can be shown, even from that writer's extract, that Diony- sius of Samos, styled the cyclographer, who flourished a good deal later, was his authority .'^ Bockh has called attention to this distinction.^ The Historians Herodotus and Thucydides occa- sionally handle mythic narrations, — ^the former con- fining himself chiefly to particular cases, the latter treating the subject in a more general way, — and draw results from them as to the descent of the Grecian races and their ancient customs. For these matters they were entirely destitute of other sources; and therefore a philosophical treatment of the mythus, the ancient genealogies, and heroic adventures, is what was here required. Now, it cannot be supposed that such a problem could have been then solved with anything like completeness. It would be unreason- able to demand from these grieat historians a general ' Heyne, Commentat. Gott, T. vii., p. 97. * Bockh, JSxplic. ad Find., P. I., p. 233. Comp. Panofka Bes Samiorum, p. 94 sq. OF THE MYTHUS. 37 mastery over the mass of mythic materials, a com- bination of things lying far apart yet intimately connected, and philosophical reflections on the prin- ciples and rules of investigation. In Herodotus, as well as most of the ancients, belief in the actual existence of the gods presents a powerful obstacle to inquiry. It is plain that this belief must have dis- appeared, before the mind, unshackled by prejudice, could separate, in the mythus, substance and form, idea and fact. From his faith sprang also his notion that all men thought alike of the gods '^ that there- fore the gods of Egypt, Persia, and other countries, were identical with those of Greece. It is easy to see what a state of confusion would result from this mixture of heterogeneous creeds. The Introduction of Thucydides is esteemed by many the most faithful and correct view of the mythic times ; but however much the sober sense of the historian may deserve commendation, I think it could not supply the want of a profound and comprehensive knowleidge of myth- ology, which is certainly indispensably requisite for the establishment of such a theory. Pragmatism afterwards made its appearance in the works of those historians who brought mythi within the scope of their subject, that term being applied to their system of converting them into his- tory. Now, mythi are certainly sources of history ; nay, if they contained nothing but fiction, they would still be so far the internal history of the Greek nation; but the pragmatists would fain derive from them at once a regular external history of princes and states. ' II. 3; wbich passage, however, is also explained in a difl'erent way. 38 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE They separated from the mythus the marvellous, the fantastic, the impossible; what remained, however intimately it might have been blended with the ima- ginary, was adopted by them as historical ground- work ; and in order to connect these supposed results, they assigned for them such motives as suited their own times. In many places they left out the gods ; in others, they represented them as men who had toiled and acted on earth, and thereby obtained divine honours. There is really some appearance of founda- tion for this proeedurie, as no distinct line of demar- cation was drawn between gods and heroes. Ephorus went to work in this way. He only began his history, indeed, with the expedition of the Heraclidse ; but he inserted, however, as it appears, a great number of mythi as episodes, and treated them according to his method. By straining after this fancied history, he was prevented from searching into the genuine import of the legiends ; and his mytho-historical representa- tions, therefore, are strung together, for the most part, in a very arbitrary manner.^ Theopompus, a contemporary of Ephorus, also introduced raythi into his history, and thought that his treatment of them was more correct than that of his predecessors ;^ yet it also was probably in the pragmatic spirit. But the work entitled TpiKapavos — ^the author of which at- tacked three cities of Greece, and, as Lucian' expresses it, annihilated the first states of Hellas with his triple- edged words, at the same time that he examined their mythic pretensions, and in so doing brought forward the Sai'tic Cecrops* — ^was not written by Theopompus, •Orchomenos, pp. 231, 235,379. Dorians, vol.i,pp.l09,lll,H8"=. *Strabo, i. 43. ' Pseudologist, 29. * Orch., p. 107. OF THE MYTHUS. 39 according to a critical notice in Josephus/ who calls it (evidently the same book) TpnroXiTiicos, but was pro- bably a rhetorical fabrication. Anaximenes of Lamp- sacus lived at the same time, or somewhat later. In his universal history, which commenced from the begin- ning of the world, he followed, in all likelihood, as regards the mythus, the principles which prevailed in his day. Euhemerus of Messenia, a contemporary of the Macedonian Cassander, did so, and exhibited them in a very peculiar manner. He set out from the prin- ciple that all the gods had lived sonaewhere as men ; and as the legend^ of Greece did not furnish sufficient proof of this, he wrote imaginary travels to a place nowhere existing, which he called Panchaea, and in which, it was pretended, monuments pf all the gods were to be seen. His work bore the imposing title of lepa avaypacf)}! ; but it was, in fact, nothing more than a romance, in which that idea was cajried out. Dionysius of Samos also embraced the same theory. He bore a strong mental affinity to Euhemerus, and probably lived at the same period. What Diodorus quotes from him regarding Bacchus, the Argonauts, and the history of the great Amazonian ,state at Mount Atlas, gives evidence of extreme arbitrariness, and of a romantic tendency in the treatment of mythi. Dionysius, however, gave it as if it had been extracted from the ancient mythologists and poets, " vapartOeis TO, "TTOi^fiaTa Twv ap')(ai(ii)v twv re fxvOoKo'YCov Kai twv ■jrot^Tm," and thereby blind«d the Agyrian, a most uncritical author ; so that the latter, with the most perfect faith, gave these dreams, as well as the pre- ' Against Apion, i. 24. 40 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE tended discoveries of Euhemerus, a place in his his- torical dictionary. The Philosophers had from the very beginning occupied themselves with the mythus, and that in two different ways. First, they employed the my- thic style as a peculiar mode of expressing thoughts and feelings. The more ancient did so rather from internal impulse than spontaneous reflection. It appeared to them the most suitable and dignified form, and, perhaps in many cases too, something more than mere form. Afterwards there was more design evinced, and the mythic expression was cho- sen, because it was picturesque and popular. It was adopted for this reason by Plato and the so- phists, who applied it with no little skill : vdtness the beautiful story of Hercules at the crossway, by Prodicus ; and that of Prometheus and Epimetheus by Protagoras, which is even called fn-xi^^oi by Plato.^ Hippius, too, earned great applause from the Lace- demonians, when he related to them how Neoptole- mus asked Nestor, what a youth ought to do in order to become a famous hero.^ But still more must we, in considering the interpretation of mythi by the philo- sophers, distinguish the deliberate design of the latter, from that internal necessity which prompted the earlier philosophers, who were no less filled with religious faith than infiuenced by their ideas, and were there- fore obliged to blend them both in reciprocal union, if they did not wish to be at variance with them- selves. In this way are we to understand the inter- pretations of the ancient Pythagoreans, which were meant to reconcile religious notions with philosophi- ' Protag., 320 sq. « PL Hipp, maj., 286. OF THE MY-THUS. 41 cal ideas, and therefore always contain some degree of truth. Religious feeling afterwards died gradually away; and it became more an exercise of ingenuity to bring mythi and the names of the gods into har- mony with some particular philosophy. Physical interpretation already prevailed in the time of So- crates. It was employed by Prodicus,^ and Metro- dorus, the pupil of Anaxagoras. The Stoics carried it farther, and applied it to the allegorical elucidation of Homer.* Other philosophers adhered to Euhe- merism ; those, for instance, from whom Cicero, who calls them theologers, borrowed the passage concern- ing the multiplicity of persons who were called Zeus, Aphrodite, Apollo, &c.^ We do not know, however, to what sect they belonged. The Neo-Platonists, loftier in their views than their predecessors, inter- preted according to ideas of an orientalized Platonism. It is less necessary to dwell on these than any other claiss of writers : for their interpretations, whether ingenious or absurd, were scarcely ever founded on historical investigation, but always sprang from the endeavour to recognise a certain system of philo- sophy. Hence, even Cicero said of Chrysippus, that he transformed the most ancient pOets into Stoics.* They, therefore, tend to perplex rather than to guide the inquiry of the mythologist. A later tribe of al- legorical writers also, entirely destitute of acumen .and judgment, brought the whole subject into such disrepute, that some have on this account abandoned all interpretation, which is nearly saying all investi- ' Davis ad Cic. de Nat. Deo., i. 42. * See Heyne, de allegoria. Homer Exd ad II. xxiii. » De Nat. Deo., iii. 21. * De Nat. Deo., i. 15. i2 SOURCES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE gatioh of miytHi : thus flinging away the kernel with the husk, Of so much the more importance to us a.re the laborious and industrious authors who merely com^ piled and related mythi ; for to them are we chiefly •indebted for the treasure of ancient mythology. Apollodorus, as the extract from his mythological dictionary shows, did nothing more to the materials than arrange them, nearly in the same manner with the logographers, except that he also availed himself of the drama, perhaps, too, of some later materials, and aimed at a comprehensive whole. At the same period were written learned commentaries on the poets ; and of these there were sojne, those of Didy-- mus for instance, in which mythological elucidation predominated ; and any mythus which threw light on a passage, was drawn from the best and most genuine source, and placed beside it. Among these learned men there were fewer allegorical interpreters, such as Crates. The opinion of Aristarchus was perhaps generally entertained, that researches as to the origin of mythi are not essential to the explana- tion of a poet. The Scholia which have been pre- served, must supply to us the want of those copious sources, and we may well be satisfied with the mass of materials they furnish. Particular mention is here diie to a writer who flourished at a time when mythi were almost re- garded as mere sopHsto^rhetorical exercises. We allude to Pausania^ the Lydian, who wrote a book of travels through Greece, in the reigns of Hadrian and the Antonines. Although he made use of, and cited a great number of poets and prose writers, he OF THE MYTHUS. 43 repeats, however, and it ia for this that he deserves especial remark, still more frequefltly what he had heard on the very spot to which his relation refers, whether he received it from priests, servants of the temple, or others. It might often happen, therefore, that traditions which had lived for many centuries in the mouths of the people, were first committed by him to writing. He relates what he had heard, and how he had heard it, even when he is himself doubt- ful of its truth ;^ the more so as he believed he had gradually attained the knowledge that much had been concealed in riddles by the ancient sages of Greece.^ CHAPTER IV. Of the Sources or Origin of the Myihm itself. If we take a glaiice at the various writers here brought under review, it will be obvious that we have not, in any of them, arrived at the real original source of the mythus. We have seen, indeed, that mythi are frequently modified by poetical and philo- sophical treatment ; but these modifications, however, always found a preexistent nucleus, and allowed it to remain. Pure inventions, like those of the philo- sophers, rhetoricians, and sophists, never became mythi, in the proper sense, although the Greeks em- « II. 17. 4. VI. 3. 4. ' VIII. 8. 2. 44 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. ployed precisely the same word^ to designate such narrations. What had arisen in this way might have heen propagated as an ingenious fiction, but it would not be readily admitted into the body, of my- thology. For example, there is not a word in ApoUodorus relating to the Hercules of Prodicus, to the form which Antisthenes gave that hero, or to Eros, and Anteros, and the like. If we strive, on the contrary, to enter into the spirit of those epic poets who sought to transmit numerous mythi in their strains, of the logographers who gave a more convenient arrangement to the materials of Pindar, &o., we shall clearly see, that to them these mythi were really traditions from the olden time, which they considered genuine, without feeling any wonder at the events which they contained, however extra- ordinary they might be, or at variance with those of actual life : for they were taught by faith to receive the marvellous as truth. To them they were records of a higher world, in which heroes and gods still lived in fellowship with each other, of a period from which it was nobility to trace descent, and which was long deemed by poetry and sculpture, the only object worthy of their regard. By this view alone can we account for the predilection which was so long mani- fested for its mythus by the most intellectual people in the world ; and which, notwithstanding all their vivacity of genius, and all their natural talent for observation, so long prevented authentic history from making its appearance. It was so strong, that in ' The word ii,uk( anciently signified " a saying,'' but it after- wards generally denoted " an ancient saying," or something similar and analogous. SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 45 order to vindicate the rights of history, Thucydides, at the very outset, entered the lists against mytho- logy ; and distinct and striking traces of it even at a later period, may often be perceived. , Such a reliance on the truth of mythi, v^hich were, at least in part, evidently fictitious, could not pos- sibly have existed, if the source from which they first flowed were clearly discoverable in any poet. Were a poet aware that one of his predecessors had been the originator of a mythus, he would certainly place no faith in it ; and if the wholesale and unconditional invention of "mythi were generally the business of poets, belief would not, in any case, be accorded to them. Besides, if that were really their office, it would have continued in their hands during the pro- gressive development of Grecian poetry ; and such zeal to preserve, and such anxiety to repeat with fidelity, as are visible in many instances, would never have been evinced. It might, indeed, be said, that a primeval ante-Homeric school of bards alone enjoyed that privilege,^an idea not intrinsically absurd ; but what would then become of the legends which un- questionably originated within the historical era, and which, nevertheless, hold an equal rank with the others, — ^that, for example, already adduced regard- ing the heroine Cyrene V But the Poets themselves, such as Pindar,-^— for, considering the nature of epic poetry, no information of this kind can well be expected from that source, — ^furnish very clear indications that, besides drawing on their predecessors, they availed themselves of po- pular traditions {avdptS-n-wv iraXam p^a-tas ;) and hence it is evident, that if the origin of a legend cannot ' P. 5. 46 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. be ascribed to the poets, it ianst have been derived from oral tradition, for there is no other alternative. The separate consideration also of maiiy single mythi confirms this result ; for they exhibit the most ac- curate knowledge of natural objects in the regions to which they refer, of the sanctuaries and religious ob- servances peculiar to each, and of the circumstances and fortunes of the tribes and families by which they were inhabited. Tbere can be no doubt, therefore, that these legends sprang up in those very regions, and among those who were familiar from their in- fancy with the various relations and localities ; for the history of Grecian poetry will hardly admit of the supposition, that every district of Greece that abounded iii legendary stories possessed its native poets, or that there were bards donstantly wandering abpiit, and searching everywhere for mythic ma- terials. We may, then, from what has been said, conclude, with ^fflbient conviction, that the source of the mythus is t6 be found, for the most part, in oral tradition ; and that this was also the fountain from which the earliest epic poets drew, which flowed on to Pindar, and long after, but at length turbid, even to Pausanias, and froin which the body of my- thology continued to receive constant accessions.^ So that, when an ancient poet glances at a mythus which is given at length by a later author, we are assuredly not entitled from this circumstance merely, to assert, as has been done, that the passage in the? former is always the ground- work, ovfundm iotiu» fa]bulcB. * Thus Herodorus, for instance, added. the traditional stories of bis native oitpr, Heraolea, to the legends regarding Hercules^ Dorians, vol. i. p. 5S7. SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 47 But in order, if possible, to prevent all misappre- hension, it must be remarked, that popular tradition, to which we ascribe a higher antiqiiity, and also, at the same time, a higher authority than to the poeti- cal mythus, does not, of course, comprehend every- thing that was said by aiiy sort of persons among the people. What the Cicerone, the e^tijtirtis of any sanctuary, (a class of persons learnedly handled by Thorlacius,) related to travellers whom he led about, might have been an idle invention of his own, or one of his predecessors, for the purpose of attracting a more numerous and profitable resort. He might even have taken it from some author. We have no doubt that, during antiquity, popular stories were fre'quently derived from books, as" has been prac- tised in more recent times ; witness the tales of the Lake Hertha, the battle of Teutoburg, &c. Tradi- tionary accounts of heroes which were universally diffused by the poets, took root in many different places, often merely from some similarity of name. Priests and guardians of temples, also, in order to dignify the institution to which they belonged, might appropria-fce something they had heard regarding other temples, or invent something of a like nature; Finally, the prevailing t6nden6ies of Greek literal ture, must have had some slight influence On the people in general, and thus also on the tone and charstcter of their narrations; and poetical fan- cies, pragmatism aiid the etynlDlogical mania, gave quite a different form to many a legend in the very mouths of the people. All this, however, does not invalidate what has been said above ; for the high antiquity of the legend is, on the whole, nothing 48 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. aflPected by these retro-active causes. Traditions which were generally current among poets and prose- writers, during the full bloom of Hellenic refine- ment, could not have been, at their origin, mere idle inventions. We know further, and of this ample proof will be furnished in the following sections, how fondly the Greeks clung, especially in earlier times, to their old traditions; how the same mythi continued, for many centuries, in one district ; and how races and families carried their legends with them to re- mote regions, where they again took root and spread. But, before proceeding further, I must endeavour to establish another point ; othervvise I should pro- bably, with many readers, lay myself open to con- tinued and constant contradiction with regard to all that follows. This is the position : that what has been already laid down as to the nature of the mythus in general, applies to it not merely as it was handled by the poets, but holds good of it also in the shape of popular tradition ; that the Actual and the Imagi- nary, the Real and the Ideal, already coexisted even lin the original form. There are many who seem to think, on the contrary, that tradition was of an his- torical nature, and that all sorts of ideas and fancies were blended with it, by the ancient poets, for the purpose of embellishment. They must, then, have made use of the gods as mere machines, in order to give life and interest to their narrations ; as was certainly practised at a later, and perhaps also, in many instances, at an earlier, period. But it may be very easily shown, frOm an examination of the mythi, that the poets were guided by the analogy of those already existing ; and that, generally speaking, fact SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 49 and idea, matters of faith and matters of experience, were combined in the mythus, even previously to its poetical modification. That local accuracy, from which we deduced local origin, is also observable even in its ideal constituents, particularly where reference is made to the service of the gods. We know, for example, with certainty, that the fable of Hylas, the favourite boy of Hercules, who was stolen by the nymphs, and whom the hero called for in vain through mountains and valleys, arose from a religious rite which was observed in the neighbourhood of Cios in Bithynia, where a god, who had sunk into the waters, was invoked and bewailed at the fountains amid the hills. For it cannot at all be supposed that this sacred observance had its origin in the fable, espe- cially as the Mariandynians, an aboriginal nation in a remoter part of Asia Minor, practised precisely the same ceremony, and its religious meaning is rendered clear by analogies.^ Now, if the mythus, then, sprang from the rite, by whom, I ask, was it most likely to have been formed ? By the inhabitants of Cios, who themselves heard the lamentations, and would surely be the first to appropriate the tales of the peasantry, and incorporate them with the Hellenic legends of Hercules ? or the Lacedaemonian poet Cinaethon, who was probably the first to introduce it into poetry ?* I think there cannot be a doubt as to the answer. Further, the Ideal is often so closely interwoven, so inseparably connected with the Real, that the mythus must have evidently owed its first existence to their union and reciprocal fusion ; and if the Ideal therein ' See Oroh., p. 293. Dor., vol. i. pp. 367, 459. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 539. 60 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. should be the work of the poet, we must immediately ascribe to him the Real also. Thirdly, a mythus is often entirely ideal, and contains no history of actual events, although it evidently sprang up in a particular spot, and was formed by the inhabitants of a single district. Let the mythus of Callisto, which we have already analyzed, serve as an example, as it is one whose original form we have ascertained : — Callisto, representing Artemis as the nourisher of wild ani^- mals in field and forest, and the goddess of blooming strength, appears in Arcadia in the form of a bear. Now, this is purely imaginary ; for no such goddess ever came within the sphere of sensible experience, or appeared in the shape of a bear. The characteristic idea of this mythus evidently originated among the people of Arcadia : for any other would not have laid the scene in a country to which they were strangers ; and Arcadia probably never produced epic poets. Now, if the peculiar mixture of idea and reality, which forms the characteristic feature of mythology, belongs to the original constitution of the mythus, the question will naturally occur. How can this be reconciled with the fact just established, that it was held to be true, and became an object of faith? " This Ideal," some one might say, " is nothing else than poetic fiction and invention, clothed in the nar- rative form." But an invention of this kind cannot, without a miracle, be simultaneously made by many individuals; for it would require a peculiar coinci- dence of design, conception, and execution. " It was surely, therefore, the work of one person." But how, then, did he convince all others of the reality, the substantiality of his invention? Shall we suppose SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 51 him to have been an impostor, who contrived to per- suade them by all sorts of deceit and illusion — perhaps by forming a confederacy with others of the same stamp with himself, who would testify to the people, that what he had devised was verified by their obser- vation? Or shall we imagine him to have been a more highly-gifted person, a more exalted being, than his countrymen ; and that, therefore, they placed reliance on what he said : receiving from him as a sacred revelation those mythi, under which he veiled salu- tary truths designed for their instruction ? But it cannot possibly be proved that such a caste or sect, either of cunning knaves or sublime personages, ex- isted in ancient Greece. Many, indeed, may point at the priests ; but they ought first to show that there really was a priesthood so widely separated from the laity, and so strongly contrasted with it, particularly in respect of knowledge. Besides, this artificial sys- tem of deception — whether it was clumsy or refined, selfish or philanthropic — is quite at variance with the noble simplicity of those ages, unless the impression made on our minds by the earliest productions of Greek genius be entirely illusory. We come, there- fore, to the conclusion, that even a single inventor of ( a mythus, in the proper sense of the word, is out of the question. But whither does this reasoning lead ? Evidently to nothing else than that the idea alto- gether of invention-^th&t is, of a free and deliberate treatment, by which something, known to be untrue, was clothed in the semblance of truth — ^must be left out of consideration, as quite inapplicable to the origin of the mythus; or, in other words, that a species of necessity led to that combination of the 52 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. Real and Imaginary which is observed in the mythus ; that its framers were governed by impulses which operated alike on all ; that these opposite elements grew up together ; and that those who were instru- mental to the union, were themselves unconscious of the difference. It is this idea, of a certain necessity and unconsciousness in the formation of the ancient mythi, that we wish to impress. When that is once conceived, it wiU also be easy to see that the dispute, as to whether the mythus proceeded from one or from many, from the poet or from the people, even where there is otherwise room for it, does not affect the main point. For if one individual, — ^the relater, — in devising a mythus^ only obeys the promptings which act equally on the minds of others, — ^the listeners, — he is merely the mouth-piece through which they all speak, the skilful exponent who first gives form and expression to what all desire to express. It is pos- sible, however, that the idea of this necessity and unconsciousness may appear dark and even mystical to many of our archaeologists : for no other reason than because this tendency to form mythi has nothing analogous in our modern modes of thinking. But ought not history to recognise even what is strange, wheii-v^e are led to it by dispassionate investigation ? Perhaps the subject will be rendered more clear by an example. We shall give the one already quoted from the first book of the Iliad. Let us suppose that the story of Cheyses was a genuine mythus, a received tradition, and that the possible events con- tained in it — the rape of the priest's daughter, and the pestilence among the Greeks — were also real. In that case, it can readily be conceived, that all SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 63 those who knew the facts, and had faith in Apollo's power to avenge and punish, would immediately and simultaneously connect them together, and would express their belief, that Apollo sent the pestilence at the prayer of his priest, with as firm a conyiction as if it were a thing which they had themselves known and witnessed. Here the myth-forming acti- vity makes but a slight step ; but I have chosen this example for that very reason. Perhaps,-however, it was in reality greater ; for the supposition that every- thing in this mythus that may be fact is fact, was perfectly gratuitous. In most cases it is far more considerable, and the activity in question more compli- cated, as more than one circiftnstance influenced the origin of the mythus. Thus, to give another example, the mythus of Apollo and Maesyas, although by no means one of the oldest, contains two kinds of ma- terial blended together. At the festivals of Apollo the lyre was usually played ; and his pious votaries were necessarily led to regard the god himself as the inventor of the instrument. In Phrygia, again, the flute was indigenous ; and it was in the same way ascribed to Marsyas, a native daBmon. The ancient Hellenians felt that the latter was in its inherent character opposed to the other. Apollo, they fancied, must have detested the hollow and shrill notes of the flute, and Marsyas himself too. Nay, more, he must have conquered him, in order that the lyre-playing Greek might esteem the invention of the god as the nobler instrument. But why must the luckless Phrygian have been also flayed, of all things? The cause is simply this : In a grotto beside the fortress of Celaenae in Phrygia, from which the stream or 54 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. cataract Marsyas gushes forth,^ a wine-skin was suspended, which the Phrygians called the skin of Marsyas.^ The reason why it was a wine-skin is explained by the fact, that Marsyas, in his attributes, resembled the Grecian Silenus; indeed, he is even called Silenus by Herodotus. He was, doubtless, a dsemon in whom the juicy exuberance of nature was symbolized, and hence also a god of fountains. But when a Greek, or a Phrygian of Hellenic culture, saw the skin, he would at once infer what was the fate of Marsyas. "Here still hangs his hide in form of a wine- skin. Apollo caused him to be flayed." In all this there is no arbitrary exercise of invention. This thought might occur to many at the same time ; and whoever first expressed it, knew that the rest, having been nurtured with the same ideas, would not for a moment doubt the force of his conclusion. But the main reason why mythi in general are not more simple in their original structure, arises from the fact that, for the most part, they did not start at once into existence, but were slowly and gradually fashioned, in the course of centuries, into the form in which we now possess them, under the influence of the most diversified circumstances and events, both external and internal, whose impressions were all taken up by tradition, which, living on from age to age in the mouths of the people, without any written record to arrest and fix it, must necessarily have been subject to constant fluctuation. This is a fact equally obvious and important; but still, however, it is often disregarded by mythic interpreters: for ' Comp. Salinas, ad Solin., 580. 2 Herod., vii. 26. Plat. Euthydem., 285. Xenoph. Anab., i. 2. 8. SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 65 they consider the mythus as an allegory, which is invented at once by a particular person, with the express design of concealing a thought in the form of a narrative. In the case of an allegory, you require only to find the key in order to obtain an explanation of the whole story : not so with the mythus. Its interpretation, for the most part, consists in nothing more than the indication of its origin; its genesis must be discovered and demonstrated. We must, so to speak, undo the various activities by which it was woven together into a whole. It is impossible, therefore, to enter mythology, as it were, by a salto mortale, and then undertake the office of interpreter with some notion of subjective evidence. We must approach the mythus by a thousand different ways ere we can hope to find its fundamental cause, its real centre and nucleus, its punctum saliens. However, this again is a point where we must of necessity, in order not to speak of a part as if it were the whole, divide mythi into two classes, the difference between which must have struck every one who has paid much attention to the subject. It may even be discovered in the circumstance, that the one class presents far greater obstacles to explanation than the other, which may be said to court inter- pretation. On a more minute consideration, we find in the former the most multifarious and heteroge- neous materials combined into a whole; for, while certain names and actions evidently belong to the service of a deity, others again bear reference to the local circumstances of the district from which the mythus derived its origin, — ^to the ancient social relations of the people, and so forth. These legends 56 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. form a web woven with threads of every variety in kind and colour ; and should we desire to ascertain what are its constituents, we must take it asunder with the utmost caution : an extremely troublesome oper- ation ; but, at the same time, doubly remunerating and attractive, from the manifold profits it will yield. To give an example, (perhaps others may be clearer to others,) the Minyans, an ancient Thessalian and Boeotian tribe, had a religious worship, wherein the Athainantidae, a house of high rank, were represented as bearing a curse, (which was again itself symboli- cally grounded in the legends regarding the ancestor of the race ;) in consequence of which the members of the family, in order to avoid being offered up as victims — a destiny suspended over them by the angry god — were often obliged to take refuge in dis- tant lands. For the purpose of bringing home from a far country, mythically called A'a, the soul of one of these fugitives, and also the skin of the animal he had sacrificed in room of himself, the Mtvvai fitted out an expedition ; and having succeeded in their object, returned under the protection of Hera, the goddess of the country.^ But this expedition bent its course towards the Black Sea, — ^the same direction in which the Minyans of lolcus and Orchomenus undertook voyages, and established colonies. Subsequent ad- ditions to geographical knowledge at length fixed its destination, and the position of Ata at Colchis on the Phasis. Even this slight sketch of the main purport, clearly shows that real and imaginary ingredients of various kinds are so intricately interwoven, that it would be quite impossible to carry out the separation ' Medea was originally but little different from Hera. SOUECES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 67 of a so-called philosopheme and an historical tradi- tion. It would be impossible from this circumstance alone, that all the ideal portion does not consist of 'general notions which are common to all ages and nations, but has been devised in a way altogether de- fined by very peculiar conditions, and is in its nature positive. If I had room to follow here, as I have attempted to do in another work, all the ramifica- tions of this mythus, and to exhibit the entire con- tents of the legend, the same result would probably stand out in a more distinct and definite manner. We come now to the other class of mythi. These are much more harmonious in their character, and bear indeed a closer affinity to allegory. We can here recognise a complete chain of ideas presented in mythic language. A striking example is af- forded by the story which relates how Prometheus, " Forethought," stole fire from heaven, and became the instructor of man in the industrious trades and useful arts ; and how the gods, in order to frustrate the aim of this striving, sent the all-gifted Pandora, who found access to Epimetheus, "Afterthought," and introduced upon earth whatever evils are wont to attend labour and industry. Although this story, as it is told by Hesiod in his " Works and Days," and in the "Theogony," is in many points inconsistent and confused, it is evident that, as regards the main sub- ject, it was not formed by degrees, but must have emanated at once from some inventive mind, imbued with the mythic spirit. It may be called an histo- rical philosopheme. Hence, the philosophical poet Epicharmus, even made it the subject of a drama, entitled. Pyrrha and Prometheus; and historical 58 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. sophisms were already linked to it by the ancient sophists.^ The poets, too, were always alive to the allegorical signification of the names : thus, Pindar humorously calls Excuse a daughter of Afterthought. In like manner the juxtaposition of Prometheus, Epimetheus, Atlas, and Menoetius, in Hesiod, as sous of Japetus, is manifestly an invention of a somewhat allegorical nature, designed to embody, in mythic language, the four leading characteristics of the human race, at the head of which stands the Titan Japetus : for it is evident from the names, appellatives, and actions of the four brothers, that the two first are opposed to each other in respect of vovs, the other two in regard to 6v/uo9 (the appetitive faculty.) Atlas is, as the name imports, the patient, the enduring, (TAA2, with the A intensive,) the strong-willed, as Hesiod calls him,^ who rerXijoTi ^vfiS explores the seas and the stars. On the other hand, in Menoetius, the impetuous, (Hesiod calls him v-jrepKvSavTa and pivrriv,) the Ovfios rises to frantic insolence, and hurries him into Erebus. We may mention another mythus, which partakes in the highest degree of the allegorical character. Indeed, according to the definition in the first chap- ter, it cannot properly be called a mythus, even in regard to form, for it does not relate an isolated ac- tion, but an habitual occurrence. We refer to the Homeric fable of the AtraJ, " Humble Prayers," who are called daughters of great Zeus, because he pro- tects those who implore his aid. They are repre- sented as following with halting steps the fierce and headlong "Ati/, " Blind Passion," who is also called a ' See above, p. 40. * V., p. 509. SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 59 daughter of Zeus, because he gives and takes away reason, and endeavouring to overtake her in order to repair the mischief she has occasioned/ Now, it will doubtless be asked by those who bear in mind the above exposition of our view of the origin of the mythus, What now becomes of that un- consciousness and necessity which are essential to the idea of genuine myth-invention ? Is it not per- fectly clear that he who first related the story of Prometheus and Epimetheus was quite conscious of embodying two ideas of human character in indivi- dual personages ? I would first meet this question with another, while I take the subject, as it were, at its opposite end. Is it not manifest that Prometheus stands visibly personified before ^schylus, and that the poet has little more doubt of his existence than of that of Zeus himself? Does not the same also hold good of Hesiod, who assuredly does not look upon his aKaKrjTa Upo/jujOevs as an allegorical image, but as a corporeal being ? " If so, then the error must have arisen in the interval between the authors of the Theogony and the allegory, and what was in truth pure fiction came to be regarded as an historical relation." But how can this be conceived, when the receiver understood just as well as the narrator, not only the signification of the name, but its agreement with the action, and they both had obviously at- tained a substantially corresponding degree of re- finement. Hence it follows, that we must banish the idea of strict allegory even from the first beginnings of such a narration. The following consideration will perhaps ' II. ix. 502, comp. xix. 91. 60 SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. show how this can be done. It is to be remarked beforehand, that the class of mythi in question are evidently less ancient than those we formerly dis- cussed : the latter, afifording clear indications of their original structure, having been exposed to ihe modi- fying influence of very different ages ; while the for- mer contain, if any at all, comparatively slight traces of such influence. Besides, the mythi which bear some apparent aflSnity to allegory, unquestionably belong, on the whole, to a later epoch than the worship of the gods ; (with which, however, as will be more distinctly pointed out in the sequel, the older mythus was, in its ojigin, most intimately connected.) Prometheus, therefore, was nowhere worshipped in ^ Greece, except that the ancient guild of potters at Athens, (jcepauets) seem to have consecrated to him, as patron of their craft, an altar, if it really was one, in the sanctuary of Athena and Hephaestus, between the Academy and the Colonus Hippius.^ Neither is Prometheus a hero. He is never named as such, and stood originally severed from all heroic genea- logies: for it is nowhere hinted at, at least in the " Works and Days," or the " Theogony," that he was, through Deucalion, the ancestor of the Hellenic nation. The Promethean mythi are therefore, per- haps, later than the formation of the heroogonies in general. Accordingly, they came into existence , at a time when the minds of men already swarmed with mythi of deep import, which produced also a more fresh and powerful impression than in after ages, when the distance from their source was in- ' See T. H. ad Lucian. T. i., p. 196, sq. "Welcker, Prometh., pp. 69, 120. SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 61 creased. Religion had placed before the eyes of mankind, in personified deities, the administration throughout nature, and the invisible aid of a higher power. It became a general habit to concentrate every form of spiritual existence whose unity was re- cognised, into an apex which necessarily appeared to the mind as a personal entity. Can it- be imagined, that Ai'/cv, Qifiii, MtJTtt, Mova-a, X.dpis,''Il^tj/Eipivvvs, "Epii, could have attained a generally believed reality, and even in some measure divine worship, otherwise than through a necessity, grounded on the epoch of mental development, to contemplate in this manner as a unity, not only every aspect of nature, but also of human life? How were it possible to pray to Charis, if she were only viewed as a predi- cate of human or higher natures ? It is even wrong to consider the worship paid by the Romans to Virtus, Felicitas, &c., as allegorical in the strict sense ; for then it could be no worship at all. Here we have to deal with a mode of contemplating the world, which is quite foreign to our notions, and in which it is difficult for us to enter. It is not incum- bent on the historical investigation of mythology to ascertain the foundations on which it rests. This must be left to the highest of all historical sciences, — one whose internal relations are scarcely yet dreamt of, — the history of the human mind. Now, if the formation of mythi, at a particular period, were grounded on a certain necessity of in- tuition, it might have continued, by the irresistible force of habit, after that necessity had ceased to exist. Earlier ages thought in this manner ; those that followed thought alike, and widened the ancient 62 SOUEOES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. sphere of thought by analogies, while the conscious- ness was gradually dawning upon thenij that they had only to do with a certain form of representation. I will not assert, however, that the mythus of Pro- metheus already stands on this middle step, as it may be even imagined to have sprung from, the pre- vious activity. A preceding age, let us suppose, had already personified, in a daemon, the faculty of fore- thought, and constituted it, as the higbest attribute of man, the representative of the human race in the Titanic world. It was also quite natural that the opposite quality^ not less easily observable in man- kind, should be associated with him as a brother. Now, any one who perceived that all human industry depends on the possession of fire, but who was, at the same time, often faint and weary with the curse of labour ; and who, moreover, dreamt, like all anti- quity, of a lost paradise, a golden age of rest and peace, must have readily ascribed the gift of fire to the hero of skilful industry, and easily imagined, too, the indignation it excited in the gods, who punished the restless and presumptuous strivings of man with the loss of pristine happiness, aiid even laid in bonds and fetters his daring intellect, which is ever apt to soar beyond its boundaries. I am convinced, that whoever can enter into the mode of thinking and intuition which belonged to primitive humanity will pei:ceive, that what Hesiod relates of Prometheus is a mythus, and not an allegory. It may be gathered, however, from what we have said, that a mythus of this kind was more liable to alterations from poets and other writers than one of the former class ; for this reason, that its meaning SOURCES OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 63 was more obvious. These alterations have, for the most part, their foundation in this very fact, that the mythus w^a^ held to be true ; for precisely on that account Vfas it of importance that it should be adapted to the state of know^ledge and the ideas pre- vailing at the time when it was handled. The per- son, therefore, and the main a-ction, were allowed to remain, but other motives and spiritual relations, suggested by a feeling of internal necessity, were as- signed to them ; and thereby the inmost essence, the idea in the mythuSj was fashioned anew, without any consciousness of the change on the part of those by whom it was effected. Thus, the plodding and in- dustrious Prometheus could possess but little signi- ficance to -^schylus, the profound and cultivated Athenian ; and was transformed, therefore, in the mind of the poet, to an entirely different character^ one of a more speculative import. In the heroic mythus, also, changes are introduced, in accordance with the same law, but in a more external way, because here the ideas lie more concealed. For example, at every extension of geographical know- ledge, the adventures and voyages of Hei;cules, the Argonauts, and other heroes, in like manner, took a wider range, aiid had their limits removed to a greater distance: for how could all the mighty beings of whom such gigantic conceptions were cherished, find scope for their achievements, if hemmed within the narrow Space between the Hellespont and Crete? 64 DETERMINATION OF CHAPTER V. On the Determination of the Age of a Mythm from the Mention of it in Authors. By the exposition in the preceding chapter, I have also sought to ohviate the tendency to confound the literary aids to a knowledge of the mythus with its sources properly so called ; which is one of the most dangerous errors in this study, inasmuch as it defeats investigation beforehand. For on this tendency is founded the notion, that in the history of Greek mythi nothing more is required, than to point out in what poet or author a mythus first appears, and to determine its age accordingly. This notion is seldom so roundly expressed, hut it evidently lies at the bottom of many mythological investigations ; and, in particular, is frequently employed in order to separate Homeric and post-Homeric mythology. But, in the first place, this method can never yield a scientific connexion, as, on the one hand, the most important literary sources of the mythus have been lost : for where are to be found the ante-Homeric Hymns, Argonautics, Heracleas, Iliads — those lays, each of which had in its day the highest renown ?^ Where that long succession of poets who followed Homer in the epos? And as, on the other hand, the great mass of mythi have only come to us through com- pilers, without any information as to the poet who ' Od., viii. T4. Comp., i. 351. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 65 first treated them. But, in the second place, even if we were in possession of the most complete mythic literature, both in prose and poetry, we should still be unable to determine how far any writer's know^ ledge of mythi extended. For we certainly cannot, in all cases, infer ignorance from silence. I am touching upon a question which, although it is of great importance and calls loudly for an answer, has usually been cunningly evaded ; and the assumption has been gratuitously formed, that as' Homer evinces , a tolerably connected knowledge of the business of life at that time, he also contains a complete systenx , of mythology. Now, then, what must the poet notice that it may not be inferred he was quite ignorant of it ? How far does "eloquent silence" extend? Where does the utterly unimportant and insignificant cease ? "No one will require that the poet, besides the mythus which it is his business to treat, should men- tion every local tradition, every insignificant mytho- logical personage, of whom he may have accidentally heard; he should, however, introduce important mythi, distinguished heroes, if he knew about them." But where is the boundary of that which is of so much moment that it must necessarily force itself some- where on the poet's attention? So far as I can understand, all is here uncertain — all arbitrary ; and I look around in vain for a criterion by which a phi- losophical procedure may be directed. However, there are unquestionably passages in the poets, espe- cially Homer, in which ignorance of certain mythi is manifested in a more decided manner; and which evidently would have been different from what theyare, if these mythi had been known to them. This only 66 DETERMINATION OF brings us, however, to the third position. A poet's ignorance of a mythus, is no proof whatever of its non- existence. How did Homer come to the knowledge of a mythus ? ' Nobody will believe that the entire mythology of Greece was at that period already embodied in song ; it lived, for the most part, merely in the mouths of the people throughout the various districts of Greece. Now, can we imagine that the bard wandered from place tl> place, inquiring every- where, and collecting the stories current among the people regarding their heroes and their gods ? Such a striving after comprehensive and philosophical knowledge is utterly foreign to the character of those early poetic ages ; and, moreover, such a search after mythi would have been to Homer perfectly useless, as it was not his design to sing aU the combats and deeds of the olden heroic time, but merely a portion of the Trojan war. In the north of Thessaly, there- fore, at Delphi, and elsewhere, a rich abundance of legends — ^telling of ancient cities destroyed, of flour- ishing sanctuaries, of Hyperboreans, and so forth — might have existed, without the slightest echo of them having ever reached the ears of Homer. Let us only try to give ourselves an answer to the question. What, then, ought to be the geographical extent of Homer's legendary lore? "It is certainly not re- quired that he should — not to speak of a wider circuit — ^be conversant with Phrygian and Thracian legends ; but those of Epirus, Thessaly, and ^Etolia, must be supposed in part to have had no existence, because he seems to have been unacquainted with them"! Besides, I have said nothing here yet of the proba- bility that Homer may have passed over in silence THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 67 many things which he knew right well, not from systematic design, or prudent calculation, (for in- stance, because he may possibly have been unfavour- able to certain religious views,) but from a feeling that they were unsuitable to his style of poetry ; and for this reason, also, that the Iliad and Odyssey, as isolated human productions, could not possibly exhibit all the tendencies of the human mind. Thus, it seems to me clear, that a poet who several times calls bread the " gift of Demeter," had daily opportunity of thanking, with devotional feeling, the benignant god- dess ; but we can even now understand why the mystic Earth-mother could not with propriety be introduced into the circle of the gods contending about Troy, and so actively interested in behalf of the heroes. Homer could, therefore, only take a passing notice of the mythi relating to Demeter when a particular opportunity offered ; and he did so twice. Now, bearing this in view, what conclusion can alto- gether be drawn from the fact, that there are very few mythi of mystical strain and tenor to be found in Homer ? Not, assuredly, that there existed no more ; or that, even in these few, what appears mystical can be explained away : but only, perhaps, that the mystical element of religion could not have predo- minated in the Grecian people, for whom Homer sang, to such a degree as to fill the hearts and the minds of all ; for otherwise the poems of Homer, in which that element is but little regarded, would scarcely have' afforded universal pleasure and satis- faction. I think I may conclude, that a truly critical in- quirer will, from no mention of a mythus being made 68 DETERMINATION OF in Homer, or other ancient poets, at the utmost con- sider himself justified in deciding, that it was not known at that time in the district where the poet lived and sang ; and thus far even, only if the mention of it might have otherwise readily occurred to him, and if it was in accordance with the plan of the poem, in keeping with the whole. But in order to prove the non-existence of the mythus, arguments of greater weight, and drawn from a deeper source, are required. The mythus itself, comprehended in the process of its formation, can atone solve the question as to its age : if it be first granted that any particular narration is a my- thus, and not a literary fiction : for so soon as we have assured ourselves of the latter, we know also, at the same time, that we can no longer reach the primary source of the mythus, no longer hear the evidence of its real framers. No external authentic testimony, therefore, to the age of a mythus can be obtained. For even supposing an ancient author said to us, "This mythus was formed at such a time, and in such circumstances;" a statement of this kind could be nothing more than a philosophical conclusion, of which we should ourselves require to undertake the proof; for the earlier transmitters of the mythus — poets for the most part— did not hand it down as a fabrication, but as a fact. The main ppint, therefore, is to take counsel with the mythus itself as to its origin, and consequently as to its age. For my own part, to give an example, unless I felt convinced that I had successfully taken this course, I should never have ventured to pronounce the story of Sais in Egypt being the native place of Cecrops, a produc- tion of comparatively recent times, and to exclude it THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 69 entirely, in that form, from the rank of mythi/ I should not have been enabled to do so merely because the epic poets and logographers are silent on the subject, and even partly contain whai is adverse. Such roundabout inquiries, as Creuzer has well re- marked, do not lead to the point. But I thought, and still think, I had shown that the mythic frater- nization of the Saltans and Athenians had its natural root in the presence of the Ionian^ at Sais, when the strangers saw in Neith, who was worshipped there, their native Athensea. I thought that I was able to follow, step by step, the gradual growth of the story ; and that I had pointed out, besides, a series of ana- logous and kindred phenomena. At the same time, however, it cannot be denied that an accurate . cRronplegical arrangement of the evidences would be extremely advantageous, nay ne- cessary, to the study of mythology ; but its applica- tion must be guided by a very cautious judgment. Such an arrangement may, in favourable cases, furnish an actual history of a mythus. Suppose that three authors, of different ages, relate a mythus differently, and that the discrepancies may be perfectly accounted for by the altered spirit of the age or the narrators ; the shape in which it is given by the oldest is, of course, the relatively original form, and it, therefore, must be the starting-point for further investigation. It may, indeed, also happen that the later as well as the earlier author makes use of the genuine legend, and communicates from it something more essential to a right understanding of it than the other. In that case, the literary determination of time is, of ' Orcb., p. 106 sqq. 70 DETERMINATION OF course, at an end, so far as regards this new hiforma- tion. But such investigations, also, very frequently enable us to separate, in the narrations of mythi, the original groundwork from the additions of poets and other authors, and to show that these are from their hands, and in their spirit as well as the spirit of their age. We thus learn from individual in- stances, in which the supplementary portion can be clearly made out, to determine its character in general, and even to undertake the separation in other cases. If we know, for instance, from authen- tic sources, how the dramatic writers gave a more tragic turn to certain mythi, — among other exam- ples, the Medea of Euripides^ now occurs to me, — we may perhaps ascertain, by analogy, how much has been added by the ■jrepnrereia in other cases. Nay, investigation here must lead still farther. It enables us, even in the case of mythi which have been transmitted to us by later compilers, to discover their former source from the style of narration, and to find out, therefore, at what period they were related in that particular form. It is easy to conceive how important this must be for the critical treatment of the mythus. Such a study of the literary sources in chronological order, and such an arrangement of mythi according to their literary sources, often fur- nish us with the means of entirely excluding a mythus from the class of genuine mythi, and assigning it its place among pure inventions. Suppose I find that a story did not exist before the time of Pragmatism, and that it has otherwise the appearance of having been devised as a connecting link between others, as ' Orch., p. 270. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 71 a means of attaining pragmatical coherence, I cannot well regard it any longer as a mythic tradition. By this method of criticism we can often go so far as to decide with certainty the age of something con- nected with the mythus, but not of a mythic nature. Of the mythus itself, however, we shall be able to say nothing, further than that it was formed before the time when the poet handled it : how long before, his mention of it by itself cannot instruct us. It may have been formed at so early a period, that, as a mythus, it had become quite extinct, and was no- where current among the people at the time of the author, who was the first, so far as we are concerned, to take notice of it. Since, therefore, the mere inquiry into the age of the evidences is so little calculated to advance our aim, we must try to find other ways and means of determining the age of a mythus. The main point is to comprehend the mythus at its origin ; and in order to this, its true explanation is necessary. Without entering into this, we here seek merely for prelimi- nary data. Such must be found, if we can establish a chain of connexion between mythi and facts in authentic history — either their contemporaneous ex- istence, or the evolution of the one from the other. We shall try whether it can be shown, that a mythus already existed when a particular event took place ; and, secondly, that it could not possibly have come into existence, but for some such particular event. Data of the latter sort are of especial importance; and even those of the former are by no means useless, inasmuch as they sometimes lead us far beyond the literary evidences. 72 DETERMINATION OF CHAPTER VI. Determination of the Age of Mythi from Historical Events. Such historical events are especially the establish- ment of colonies. It seems proper that a number of examples, although forming but a small portion of those otherwise obtained by investigation, should be here adduced ; as the importance of this species of research to the science in general is not yet equally evident to all. 1. Byzantium was founded in the 30th Olympiad by Megarians. Among them there were also Argives, if, indeed, these did not precede them. The only evidence of this, however, is a later writer, Hesychius Milesius ;^ but, according to his own account, he drew largely on ancient poets and historians. This, I think, was the best source he could have. For as Hera, the ancient tutelar goddess of Argos, was honoured under the appellative of 'AKpala at the Argive fortress of Larissa,^ she was, in like man- ner, put in possession of a citadel at Byzantium.^ Dionysius, the Byzantine, speaks thus of an eminence within the city — "Ille locus Junonia Acra dicitur, vbi quotannis victimas primo anni die mactat gens Me- garica, (which expression here denotes merely the ancient inhabitants.) Further, as the legends of lo (in connexion with the worship of Hera) had their locality at Argos, and the place was pointed out ' In narg. KoverMTmrniXius, P. 3. p. 60. Orelli. ^ Pausan., ii. 24, 1. ' Hudson, Geogr. min., T. iii. p. 2. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 73 where she had grazed as a cow ;^ so also, at Byzan- tium, was lo said to have grazed on the tongue of land called Ceras, "theHorn," at the confluence of the streams Barbyses and Cydarus, and to have brought forth a daughter, Kepoea-cra "the Horned One," mother of Byzas,^ the hero of the city. It seems to me clear that the name Bosporus, " Cow-ford," has some connexion with these mythi ; that the Byzan- tines applied it to the strait in honour of their legendary cow ; and that the tradition of lo having swum across, originated in this way.^ Hence it fol- lows that the Argives, who emigrated to Byzantium, were already acquainted with the mythus of lo, and her transformation; for Argos and Byzantium had never afterwards so much intercourse as to occasion so remarkable a migration of mythi and religious worship. But it follows, secondly, that in the his- tory of the wanderings of lo, in the course of which she swims across the Hellespont,* legends are con- tained, of which, at least, the one just referred to did not ej,'ist until the BOth Olym'piad? 2. But most of the Byzantine sanctuaries were transferred from Megara, the metropolis, as it was called by way of eminence. In Megara flourished the worship of Apollo ; and, in particular, an ancient temple, dedicated to him, stood on the Acropolis^ looking towairds the sea. The god himself was said to have assisted Alcathous in building the citadel. While thus employed, according to the legend, he laid his harp upon a stone, of which it was asserted, ' ApoUod., ii. 1. 1. ^ Diouys., p. 5. Ilesych., 6. p. 63. ' It had already appeared in the heroic poem jEgimius, Dor., vol. i. p. 34d. * iEschylus, Prom. 726. ^. Compare Dor., vol. i. p. 138. 74 DETERMINATION OF in later times, that, when struck with a pebble, it gave forth a sound like that of a harpr-string.-^ This might have been deemed a story of recent invention, if it were not also found at Byzantium. Apollo is said to have built this city also, in conjunction with Poseidon. Here, too, he laid his harp upon a tower, and thereby produced, not merely the ringing of a stone, but the concerted harmony of seven ancient towers.^ Now, if we conclude that this legend also was transplanted at the 30th Olympiad, it may indeed be objected that amicable relations long continued to subsist between the colony and the metropolis ; and that it may thus, although not invented in the latter city till long afterwards, have yet been easily con- veyed to the former. The possibility of this must be admitted, but the other opinion is more probable : for the necessity of transplantation would be strongly felt at the establishment of new habitations ; and a tradition only which the Byzantines knew and be- lieved while they were still Megarians, could impress itself so deeply on their minds, as, in a certain degree, to demand localisation and renewal. 3. Syeacuse was established by Corinthians in the 5th Olympiad.^ Among the settlers, however, there were people from the neighbourhood of Olympia, particularly some members of the family of the lamidse, which administered the prophetic office at the altar of Olympian Zeus.* That these crwoiKia-r^pes (to use Pindar's expression) from Olympia exercised ' Pausan., i. 42. 1. 2. Dor., vol. i. p. 258. * Hesych., 12. 13. p. 63 sqq. Dionys. Byz., p. 6. Dio Cass., 74r. 14. Heyne in Commentat. Gott. rec., T. i., p. 64. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 140; vol. ii. p. 514. * Pindar, 01. vi. 5, 6. BiJckh, Explic. Find., p. 152 sq. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 75 the greatest influence on the religious services and raythi of "the new city is manifest from a variety of circumstances, particularly the following: Artemis was worshipped at Olympia as a deity connected with Alpheus,(Alpheionia, Alpheioa, Alpheiusa, Alpheisea,) for she was in that neighbourhood regarded chiefly as a goddess of floods, rivers, and lakes.^ She had, in conjunction with Alpheus, an altar in the Altis,^ and it was currently related in that district that Alpheus was enamoured of her.** According to the legend, as it was told Pausanias by the Letrinasans, the river- god was unsuccessful in his suit, and was obliged to retire with disgrace ; but the surname of the goddess proves that an actual relation between them was assumed in the elder mythus. Now, people came from these quarters to Syracuse ; nay, so early in- deed as the original settlement, which was confined to the island of Ortygia. Here also they erected a temple to Artemis, the river-goddess, {■jrorafila,) a sanctuary of so great importance that Pindar calls the entire island after it, "the seat of the river- goddess."* But there was no river in Ortygia ; and Artemis still sighed for her beloved Alpheus. Then arose the belief that the fountain Arethusa, near the precincts of the temple, contained the sacred water of Alpheus f a belief which was confirmed by the cir- cumstance of large fish being seen in the fountain.® This belief again gave birth to the mythus that ' Dor., vol. i. p. 393. 2 Paus., V. 14. 5. Schol. Pind., N. i. 3., O. v. 10. ' Paus., vi. 22. 5. * P., ii. 7. Comp. Bockh's JExplic, p. 244. ' Ibycus ad Schol. Theocr., i. 117. « Diodor., v. 3. Schol. Pind,, N. i. 2. 76 DETERMmATION OF Alpheus followed the goddess to Sicily. I wish those who desire to form an accurate notion of the way in which a mythus comes into existence, would give due heed to this example ; for it may here be seen, with especial distinctness, that in the genuine mythus there is nothing like deliberate contrivance. The worship of the goddess was endeared to the people by ancient usage ; their native stream, too, could not be dispensed with: the legend therefore miist be evolved. Now, the form of the Syracusan legend, as is clear from the above, was at first such, that Ar- temis and Alpheus were still conceived to be bound to each other by close and affectionate ties; but afterwards it was necessary that the story should receive a different turn, (somewhat as in the tradition of the Letrinseans,) when the notions of her coy vir- ginity became prevalent throughout Greece — ^these being at variance with the orginal worship of the iroran'ia. Artemis now flees before Alpheus. Thus sang Telesilla,^ even about the 64th Olympiad. It is not quite clear what was Pindar's idea — ^whether or not he still considered the goddess herself as the object of pursuit, when he called Ortygia^ " the venerated resting-place of Alpheus." In later times, when the agreeable was sought for in preference to the signi- ficant, the goddess was no longer taken into account, and the original meaning of the mythus was thereby still more obliterated. The fountain-nymph Arethusa was substituted for Artemis, and became the shy mistress of the river-god.' I think no one, except ' Hephaest., p. 36. 18. ^ Nem. i. 1. ' Comp. the excellent exposition of Dissen. Explic. ad Nem., vol. i. p. 350. Dor., vol. i. p. 393. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 77 perhaps those who can scent out priestcraft in the pious simplicity of the mythus, can doubt, after a plain consideration of these facts, that the event which look place in the 5th Olympiad gave rise to the legend. 4. CoECYEA was colonized from Corinth, probably about the same time.^ At the latter place, likewise in the Acropolis, Hera was honoured as Sovmia and 'Ajfpa/a, with solemn and ancient rites.^ To this worship, the fable of Medea was very closely re- lated.* It was at Corinth a local tradition, and con- nected with sacred observances. Now, in Corcyra, again, we find an important sanctuary, called the Herseon ;* and together with it, the traditions regard- ing Medea. She was said to have here solemnized her nuptials with Jason ; and the sacred grotto where they were united was still shown at the time of ApoUonius the Rhodian,* as were also, in the temple of Apollo Nomius, the altars of the Moipai and nymphs, which were reared by the bride before the ceremony, and at which, even in the time of Timseus,* yearly sacrifices were offered up.' It is clear that these mythi were carried over by the Corinthian settlers, and have come down, therefore, from the date of colonisation ; especially as, not long after- wards, Corcyra became much estranged from the mother-city. Besides, it is to be remarked, that at the time of their transit, that marriage was understood in a more ideal, or, if I may, at this point, use the ' Dor., vol. i. p. 136. ^ Pausan., ii. 4. 7. Comp. Siebelis and Orch., p. 269. 3 Orch. ib. 4 Thucyd., i. 24 ; iii. 75, 79. 5 IV. 1153. « ApolL, iv. 1217, and the Schol. ' Orch., p. 297. 78 DETERMINATION OF expression, in a more symbolical sense ; for to Hesiod and Alcman, Medea was a divine being.^ She is, therefore, viewed in the Theogony as one who, sprung from the race of gods, wedded herself to a mortal.^ 5, The inhabitants of the Rhodian city, Lindus, founded Gela in Sicily, and Phaselis, on the borders of l4ycia and Pamphylia, about the 16th Olym- piad.^: Two Lindians, brothers even according to some, the one called A.ntiphemus, the other Lacius, are said to have applied at the same time to the Delphic oracle. The god directed the former to travel to the west, and the latter to the east, Lacius, therefore, became the founder of Phaselis.* Now, we know that Lacius was a Cretan name, and only another form for Rhacius; for in the Cretan tongue paKos and XaKo? signified the same thing.* According to tradition there was a Cretan named Rhacius, who figured in the mythological period, at the foundation of the Clarian oracle.® The Cyclic Thebais, indeed, called him a Mycenaean ; but it is likely that Mycenee in Crete was thereby meant.^ It was related in that ancient poem, that the heroes who conquered Thebes, sent -Manto, the captive daughter of Tiresias, as a gift of honour to the Delphian god ; and that, having been ordered onwards ' Athenag. legat., p. 14, ed. Colon. ^ Y. 992. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 127; vol. n. p. 517- * See Aristsenetus of Phaselis in Steph. Byzant, s. v. Ts\a. Comp. Athenseus, vii. 297, from Heropythus, ''Xlgo; KoKafmlm, and Philostephanus, rsgi rwn h 'Aff/qi, ?ro'XEw». ^ See Schneider in Nicand. Alexipharm., Vi 11. p. 83. • Pausan., vii. 3. 1. ; ix. 33. 1. ' Sohol. Apollon. Rh., iy. 308. Paris. Comp. Orchom., p. 148,4. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 79 from Delphi, she met Rhacius, to whom she became united in marriage, and founded, together with him, the Clarian oracle of Apollo, in the neighbourhood of Colophon/ Mopsus, the renowned first prophet of that sanctuary, was the son of this pair, or of Apollo and Manto.* There can be no manner of doubt, from the authorities here referred to, that there were tra- ditions current at Clarus of a Cretan minister of Apollo, and a Thebaic prophetess, to whom the sanc- tuary was indebted for its existence. So much for this Rhacius or Lacius, from whom I return to Lacius, the supposed Lindian, with the assertion, — which, with so little preparation for it, may appear very bold, — that the latter, the reputed founder of Phaselis, is one and the same with the other, the ancient co-founder of the Clarian oracle ; or, in other words, that the establishment of Phaselis, as well as several other cities in Pamphylia, was pro- moted by the cooperation of the Clarian oracle, and that, for this reason, the heroes connected with it were transplanted to the newly-acquired territory, and regarded as the founders of the new city. In order to be convinced of this identity, it is only necessary to compare some other legends; for instance, the one which ascribes the establishment of Phaselis to Mopsus, the son of Rhacius,^ and another pre- served by Philostephanus, which sets forth that Lacius at the same time with Mopsus, and sent forth, too, by the orders of Manto, established that colony. ' Pausanias gives almost precisely the same account in the pas- sages just cited; perhaps from the same source. '' Conon, 6 ; Pausan., vii. 3. 1. Comp. Strabo, xiy.^ 675 ; Mela, i. 17; Dot., vol. i. p. 255. 3 Mela, i. 14. 80 DETERMINATION OF It will, perhaps, be understood, how the mythic guardian of the oracle in the legend could become the founder of a city in the 16th Olympiad, if we try to fancy ourselves in the situation, and enter in some measure into the spirit of the colonizing Greeks. The memory and worship of a hero always ac- companied their migrations. The settlers thought themselves secure on their perilous expedition, and at their disembarkation among a strange people, through the guardianship of their native pi'otector. How^ easily, then, did the legend arise, that he also, while he lived upon earth, visited those regions, and fought and dwelt there before them. Crotbna was established under the auspices of Heraclidse.^ Her- cules was there worshipped as oiKia-ras f and there were not wanting legends which told of his having been there in his wanderings, and laid the first foun- dation of the city. Thus also was Lacius honoured at Phaselis, because his prophet-race had helped to fit out the colony. He received the title of oiKitrrhs ; and, as Philostephanus relates, he must needs, with his son, Mopsus, be carried far back into the primi- tive ages. Others, again, converted the mythological into an historical founder, and therefore brought down Lacius to the 16th Olympiad. This myth- forming process might be rendered still more obvious, if it were permitted to enter into the legends of the Cilician cities, Soloe, Mallos, Mopsucrene, and Mop- suestia ; but the inquiry would be too lengthened for our present purpose, while the exposition I have given in the Dorians, may be, on the other hand, ' Dor., vol. i. p. 146. * Dor,, vol. i. p. 455. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 81 not full enough for all readers.^ Even what has been here communicated, however, will suflSlce to show, that the establishment of Phaselis, through particular circumstances, gave birth to a mythus, which, like many others, crept into history, in a disguised form. But it is also clear, at the same time, that the legend of Rhacius as founder of the oracle, must have been, at the 16th Olympiad, already in existence at Clams. The transference to Phaselis of the mythic personages connected with the oracle, must have begun with the settlement itself: for Callinus, who flourished about the 25th Olympiad, stated, according to Strabo,^ that "the prophet Calchas died at Clarus ; his people were led by Mopsus across the mountain range of Taurus ; some remained in Pamphylia, others dispersed them- selves towards Cilicia and Syria, as far as Phoenice." Pamphylia here evidently includes Phaselis, the building of which was probably ascribed by Callinus to Mopsus ; at all events he followed the legend, which did not come into existence until the 16th Olympiad, but which must have found a willing belief at the very outset. Callinus, as an Ephesian, and neighbour of the Colophonians, got it at first hand. 6. The most interesting example of the evolution of a mythus from an historical occurrence is, perhaps, the early mythic history of Cyeene, of which I shall only bring forward here what is essential to the understanding of the mythus' origin, referring to my work on Orchomenos for further details.* Cyrene » Dor. vol. i. p. 129 sq., 256 sq. * XIV. 668. » P. 340-359. G 82 DETERMINATION OF was a colony from Thera, established ahout the 2>'lih Olympiad} The most ancient portion of the city lay surrounding the fountain sacred to Apollo,^ the proper name of which was Cyre ;^ and there can be no doubt, that the name of the city, Cyrene, comes from Cyre, in the same way that Messene is derived from Messe, &c. The princes of Cyrene traced their descent from Euphemus, an ancient Minyan hero,* whose birth is assigned by the legends to two dif- ferent places, both of which, however, belonged to that tribe, Panopeus and Hyria, in Boeotia.® But the Minyan tribe, to which the family of Euphemus belonged, had dwelt in Southern Laconia previous to the settlement on the island of Thera ; and, therefore, Euphemus himself is also called a Tsena- rian.® Now, when the Theraic Minyans, at the behest of the Delphian oracle, founded Cyrene, sub- dued the Libyan barbarians, and reared a powerful city, they must have believed that their occupation of the foreign land was agreeable to the gods, and decreed by destiny. But this idea was closely allied in the imagination of the Greeks to another, viz., that this occupation was grounded on events which had occurred in the olden heroic times, — ^that their ancestors, by whom they thought themselves pro- tected and accompanied, had done nearly the same ' See the grounds^ Orchom., p. 344, 2 ; where number 2 is to be struck out. Voss has recently attempted to assign the enlargement of Cyrene by Battus II. to that period ; but this Battus, according to certain data, reigned in the 52d Olympiad. Comp. Herod, ii. 161, with iv. 160, and Larcher on Volney. * Herod., iv. 158 j comp. Pind., P. It. 294. ^ Callimachus, Apoll., 88. Steph. Byz. xu^^vi) ; comp. Biickh, ExpUc. Pind., p. 282. Euf)]/u/ja/ ruv Miwiuv. Herod., iv. 150. 6 Orch., p. 263. « Orch., p. 316. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 83 thing before. Thus, therefore, an event of that nature reflected itself back into the mythic ages, and thereby received, at the same time, a justifica- tion which was gratifying to the minds of the ancient Greeks. The crowd of legends which sprang from this tendency is remarkable in the case of Cyrene ; and it may instantly be perceived in all of them, that they were not deliberate inventions, but, on the contrary, were mythi which found general belief, both among Cyrenseans and strangers, because that unconsciousness of which we have already spoken, influenced their formation. One of these legends, which relates how the nymph Cyrene was conveyed by Apollo to Libya, Ihave already quoted. Another runs thus. Euphemus took part in the Argonautic expedition, and arrived with the ship at the Tritonis, which is described in the legend, as a lake at tlie bor- ders of Cyrenaica, near Irasa and Hesperis.^ Here the god Triton himself appeared to the Argonauts ; and snatched up in haste, having no other gift to offer the strangers, a clod of earth, which Euphemus received into his hands.^ The seizure of a clod fre- quently occurs in the Greek legends, (as in the Ro- man ceremony of Vindication,) and was meant as a symbol of the investiture of land.^ Thus, there- fore, was the ground and soil of Cyrene conveyed by the god himself to the posterity of Euphemus, by this symbolical act. It must have been conveyed to the hero, for his descendants actually possessed it ; and, according to the belief at that time, they could scarcely have held it unless the god of the neighbour- ing lake had given his sanction. It is plain, then, > Orch., p. 354. * Find., Pyth. iv. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 99. 84 DETERMINATION OF that the legend derived its origin from the event, and was later, therefore, than the 37th Olympiad. According to the Argonautic poet, ApoUonius,^ the clod was a gift exchanged for a tripod, which the Argonauts had placed on the shore of Tritonis, in honour of Apollo; and, according to Herodotus,* Triton prophesied, that if a descendant of one of the heroes should again receive the tripod into his possession, a hundred Hellenic cities would rise up around the lake. This prediction, too, was already partially realized, if we look only to the ancient Tritonis, near Irasa ; for Battus was the descendant of an Argonaut, and the possessor, also, of the country where the tripod stood : Cyrene, moreover, began very soon to plant the surrounding region with cities. This prediction, therefore, and the mythus attached to it, are also sprung from real events, at a later period, probably, than the legend previously examined. In aftertimes, the prophecy was referred by Herodotus and others, to a more distant Tritonis ; with regard to which, however, it actually remained unaccomplished, and must, there- fore have become a dark and enigmatic tradition. ' lY. 1548. 2 IV. 179. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 85 CHAPTER VII. Extension of this Process to the Mythic Ages. The examples which have been adduced will suf- fice to show how a close and sure connexion between mythi and events can be ascertained, and the exis- tence or origin of the former at a particular epoch pointed out. The events just brought under con- sideration are of a purely historical character, and belong to the 5th, 16th, 30th, and 37th Olympiads. We have found that they occasioned the transplanta- tion, remodelling, expansion, and sometimes even the creation of mythi. It is asked whether similar determinations can be arrived at for earlier times ; as those which have been given serve rather to prove the youth than the age of a mythus. Doubtless; only that, in the mythic ages, the events with which the origin and transplantation of mythi are connected, have been themselves communicated only by mythic narrations. But we must, according to the foregoing analogy, further conclude, that in these ages, also, the migration and new settlement of a trib^ could scarcely take place without leading, at the same time, to a migration and new settlement of legends. Every special inquiry furnishes examples. I select only a few, beginning with those that lie on the confines of the historical period. 1. The first example is furnished by the position, That at the time of the Dorian migration, the tribe of Tyrrhene Pelasgians, wandering from Boeotia to 86 DETERMINATION OF Samothrace, brought to that island the worship and mythi of Cadmus or Cadmilus and Harmonia. This position seems to the author one of the most im- portant in historical mythology ; and he will, for that reason, in endeavouring to establish it, proceed with all possible caution : and, in order that the reader may have no difficulty with the proofs, he will make no reference to his own treatment of the subject else- where. Cadmus was regarded at Thebes, from a very early period, as the hero who had founded the city, and his spouse Harmonia was esteemed a native goddess} She is also represented as a goddess by Hesiod,^ and in one of the Homeric hymns.* In the Thebaic mythus she stands in a variety of relations to Aphro- dite as the goddess of love and marriage, and was even said to be her daughter by Ares. Now, Har- monia was worshipped also in Samothrace, and, indeed, only in Samothrace, so far as we know. In the mysteries of that island there was a particular ceremony, in which she was searched for as one that had been lost.* Cadmus also was worshipped there, and that, too, as a god ; for the old grammarians well knew that the name of the Samothracian god Cadmilus was but another form of Cadmus, as is stated in a scholium on Phavorinus :* " Cadmus is not merely a proper name, but also a surname of Hermes, of which the Cadmilus in Lycophron is a derivative and lengthened form." Hermes is called by this Lycophron® Cadmus and Cadmilug, without 1 Plutarch, Pelopid. 19. « Theog., 937, 975. 8 To the Pyth. Ap. 196. * Ephorus in Schol. ad Eurip., Phoen. 7. 6 Oomp. Eustath. ad II., iv. 385. « V. 162, 219. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 87 any difference of signification ; another poet, Pieander^ of Laranda, employed Cadmus as a theogonic power, which Cadmilus unquestionably was in Samothrace ; and Nonnus, a later writer, imagined that the same person was called Cadmilus as a god, and Cadmus as a hero.* Finally, the diminutive termination in /Xo? corresponds to that of v\os in 'EjowtuXoj, and is also to be found in other ancient Greek names. Now, it is certain that this Cadmus-Cadmilus was really adored in Samothrace as a deity. " To the three Cabiri of Samothrace," say the scholia to ApoUonius of Rhodes,^ " a fourth is added in Cadmilus, who is identical with Hermes according to Dionysodorus." Hence we are also entitled to refer the following statement of Acusilaus,* the ancient Logographer, to the Samothracian worship : " From Cabira and Hephaestus sprang Camilus, from him the three Cabiri, and from them the Cabiric nymphs." Lastly, we shall as ,we proceed receive also from Herodotus, the testimony that this Cadmus-Hermes was adored in Samothrace as a cardinal divinity. Now, therefore, if the worship of Harmonia, and the legend, or the service of Cadmus existed in Thebes and Samothrace, and probably in these places alone of all Greece, it is clear that there must have been some connexion between them : for an arbitrary adoption of gods, without the interposition of some agency by which they were introduced to the adopter, cannot, on any account, be supposed ; and least of all in early antiquity. Now, such a mediation was sup- • Olympiodorus, from MS. communicated by "Wyttenb.in Plato's Phaed., p. 251. = Dionys., vol. iv. p. 116. Hanau. '1.917. * Str., X. p. 472 ">. 88 DETERMINATION OF plied by the Tyrrhene Pelasgians alone, who, as Herodotus^ relates, after being expelled from Attica, went, about the tinae of the Dorian migration, to Lemnos and other places ; one of which, according to the same author,^ was the neighbouring island of Samothrace. But these Pelasgians had come to Attica from Boeotia ; nay, more, from the territory of Thebes, as is stated by Ephorus,' a writer who has worked into the pragmatic connexion of his history an astonishing number of ancient traditions, and whose testimony must certainly be preferred to the vague accounts of Myrsilus'' and Pausanias,^ as to their western ox Hesperian origin. For the'evidence of these latter authorities is at once destroyed by this cir- cumstance of itself, that Herodotus calls them merely Pelasgians, and acknowledges them to have been a branch from the same original stem with the Pelas- gic Athenians, to whom they then appeared strange, only because the latter had already become Hellen- ized.^ But Herodotus knew another community of these Pelasgians who had formerly dwelt in Attica ; viz., that of Placia and Scylace. The Pelasgian state at Lemnos, too, was not annihilated by the Athenians until between the second and fourth years of the 70th Olympiad ; and Herodotus, who was born in the first year of the 74th, must have possessed ac- curate information as to the tribe and nation of these people. It is clear, therefore, that these Tyrrhene Pelasgians form the link of communication between Thebes and Samothrace : the only one, too, so far as we know ; at least, there is no trace of any other to ' VI. 137. 2 II. 51. 3 Ap. str., ix. 401. * Ap. Dionys., ii. 1. 28. « I. 28. 3. « II. 51.- Comp. i. 56 sq. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 89 be found in subsequent history. Hence we might infer, with tolerable certainty, that they were the bearers and deliverers of the worship of Cadmus, even if we did not otherwise know that Cadmus- Hermes-Cadmilus was worshipped by the Tyrrhene Pelasgians. " Cadmus, the Hermes of the Tyrsen- ians" says a grammarian.^ Callimachus, who spoke of the Tyrrhene Pelasgians in Attica,^ stated that Hermes was called Cadmilus by the Tyrrhenians, which the Roman authors erroneously referred to the Tuscans and the ancient Italian Camillus ® (boy.) Historical information, likewise, respecting this Tyr- rhene worship, could be very easily obtained, as that people, long after the beginning of the Olympiads, (at the time of the Homeric hymn to Dionysus,) roamed the Grecian seas, and inhabited a number of independent towns in the north of the Archipelago, until and even after the Persian war. Nothing, therefore, is wanting to complete the proof that the Tyrrhene Pelasgians transferred the worship and mythus of Thebes to Samothrace; and we might almost leave untouched the following passage of Herodotus,* which of itself would decide the ques- tion. " The Athenians learned from the Pelasgians, who lived in their territory, to represent Hermes as ithyphallic. The same Pelasgians, at an earlier period, (before they were subdued, and partly expelled from Samos by the lonians,) inhabited Samothrace; and from them have the Samothracians derived their Ka^elpiav opyia. They also related concerning that phallic form a lepos Xo'yoi, which is revealed in the • Etymol. Gud., p. 290 '. ^ Schol. Aristoph. Pind., 832. 3 Macrob., Sat. iii. 8. * II. 51. 90 DETERMINATION OF Samothracian mysteries," The Samothracian Hermes was called Cadmus, as we know to a certainty ; Samo- thrace, therefore, according to Herodotus also, re- ceived the latter from the Pelasgians. The tepos Xo'70? of the god's passion was probably divulged by a philosopher, from whom Cicero borrows it •,^ but it appears, according to Propertius,^ that the story had been localized at the lake Bcebeis by the Pelasgians of the Dotic plain.^ This evidence of itself might be deemed sufficient ; but the subject is of so much importance towards obtaining a correct notion of the mythic ages of Greece, that it will not be superfluous to adduce further proof from a different quarter; I set out from this, that the above passage of Herodotus clearly proves Hermes-Cadmilus to have been wor- shipped in the Samothracian mysteries^ He was worshipped, if not as a Cabirus himself, at least as the father of the Cabiri, as a mundane principle ; hence, a learned author has lately suggested this very beautiful explanation of his name, viz., " the creator, the disposer," from KaXm. He manifestly belonged to the group of Cabiric deities. Now, we find the service of the Cabiri mentioned distinctly, and by name, in the following places. First, in Samo- thrace,^ Lemnos, and Imbros.* In these latter ' Cic. de Nat. Deo., iii. 22, (Comp. Creuzer.) 2 IL 2. 11. (63.) ' Comp. Lobeck, De Mygter. Argum., iii. p. 3. * I cannot conceive how Demet. of Scepsis, (in Str., x. 470,) could think that there was no /uuirnxi; Xo^^o; atej^ Ka^E/gw» in Samothrace. The context seems to me to require iti^ Kou^^run. * Stra., X. 473 ; Attius ap. Varr., L.L., vi. p. 67 ; ancf, per- haps, the same in Cicero, N. £>., i. 42, &o. « Str. ih. Iambi. Vita Pyth., i. 28. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 91 places, also, the worship of Hermes enjoyed high credit, and was similar in its nature to the Samo- thracian form already described. The coins of the two islands exhibit the ithyphallic deity very dis- tinctly ;^ the highest mountain-peak in Lemnos was called Hermaeon,* and further, the last Pelasgian prince of Lemnian Hephsestia was denominated Hermon,' after the god ; the Inland of Imbros, too, is said to have taken its name from him.* Besides, the worship of the Cabiri, and that under a san- guinary form, is found at Thessalonica ;® again in an Attic inscription ;® in several towns of Troasand in Pergamene ;^ and lastly, in Anthedon and Thebes.^^ Now, it is tolerably certain, of all these places, that they were inhabited by Tyrrhene Pelasgians. This is attested by Herodotus with regard to Lemnos and Imbros.® Thessalonica, as soon as it was built, must have attracted the inhabitants of the surround- ing regions, and probably, among the rest, Pelasgio Tyrrhenians, (the Tvpa-ijvovs of Herodotus,) frorn Athos, and the country below Creston.^" The Pelas- gians had Antander, on the borders of Troas, for a short time in their possession," as well as Pitane in Pergamene ;^^ but it is probable that these were of ' Choiseul Gouff., Vol/. Pitt., i. 2, pi. 16. Mionnet, Descr., i. p. 422, &c. * JEstshylns, Agam., 290, Schol. ' See Valckenaer on Herod., vi. 140, and Hesych. 'Ej/twvwf * Steph. B. "I/i/Sgos. ' According to Fjrmicus, De Err, Prof. ^ Mel. 12, and the coins with the inscriptions KABIP02, KABEIPIA, DEO CABIEO. « Gruter, p. 319. 2. ' Str., x. 473.. Pans., i. 4, 6. « Pans., ix. 22. 5 ; 25. 5. ' V. 26 ; vi. 137, &c. '• Herod., i. 57. Thuc, iv. 109. " Herod., vii. 42, &c. '* Hellauicus ap. Zenob., v. 61. 92 DETERMINATION OF the Tyrrhene branch, as the occupation of both these towns took place at a comparatively late period, and the same swarm had also passed through the Helles- pont, entered the Propontis, and proceeded to Cyzicus, Placia, and Scylace. The Tyrrhene Pelasgians of Attica are well known ; and as I have already shown, the entire migration began from Boeotia. I have, therefore, after this collocation of facts, merely to repeat the result : — Wherever the Cabiric religion is to be met with, under a definite form, and bearing that name, there also are the Tyrrhene Pelasgians to be found. No one will maintain that this is acci- dental : I think I am fairly entitled to deduce the worship of the Cabiri, with the name itself, from that Pelasgic tribe. There were, indeed, some other cities belonging to it, in which we cannot point out the presence of the Cabiri ; but this may be because we know nothing of their religious observances ; and yet there are some scattered traces which seem to indicate the existence of these deities. If the case stands thus, the worship of the Cabiri, in all the above-named places, must be referred to Thebes as its metropolis. At some distance from that city there was a grove sacred to Demeter and Cora Cabiria, and, close by, a sanctuary of the Cabiri ; (thus also did the sanctuaries stand together at Anthedon,) of whose ancient fame and fortunes Pausanias gives a full account. That there was a priestess named Pelarge, connected with this wor- ship, is also some addition to the proof of a Pelasgic origin. Now, it is indeed surprising that Pausanias should be the first to mention this temple ; but it is far more difficult to imagine that such a double sane- THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 93 tuary started into existence within the historical era, than that it should, particularly when we bear in mind its sequestered situation, have remained unnoticed by earlier poets and historians. When the same author states elsewhere,^ that Methapus, an Athe- nian, the director of various mystical solemnities, regulated (/careo-TvcaTo) for the Thebans the religious ceremonies of the Cabiri, it cannot have been his inJ;ention to designate him thereby as the founder of a religion which he regarded as decidedly older than the Persian war.* Whereas Methapus, who placed his own statue in a temple, and changed in many particulars the worship of the great gods of An- dania,' (afterwards established in Carnasion,) which had been introduced from the time of Aristomenes to that of Epaminondas, must have been later than the emancipation of Messenia. The closeness with which the worship of the Cabiric goddesses was interwoven with the Thebaic mythology, is evident from the statement of Euripides, that the Siwvvfioi 6eai, i. e., these Cabiric goddesses, founded Thebes, that Zeus bestowed the city on Cora at the ceremony of unveilment, and that Cadmus dwelt in the temple of Demeter Thesmophorus ;* in which mythi all the divinities of the Samothracian worship are seen con- joined. There is still another objection to be met, viz., that Hephaestus, who was worshipped in Lemnos among the Cabiri, figures in Homer as an ancient deity of the Sintians, and that these were of Thracian • IV. 1. 5. 2 IX. 26. 7. ' The proof jof this fact can be drawn from Pausan., iv. 20. 2 ; 26. 6 ; 27. 4 ; 33. 5. * Pans., ix. 16. 3. 94 DETERMINATION OF stock, and older than the Tyrrhenians on the island. I now admit this myself, and confess that I too hastily embraced'^ the opposite opinion of Philocho- rus.^ But nothing else can be inferred from this, than that the Sintian worship of Hephaestus was here, with the Pelasgian worship of Hermes and the Cabiri, united in Vulcan Mosychlus into a whole, a Pandaemonion, such as every Greek state possessed ; as Samothrace might also, perhaps, at a very remqte period, have adopted much from the Dardanians of Asia.^ On the whole, I think the supposition, that the Cabiri were flre-gods,* which is built upon the genealogical connexion with Hephaestus, and an etymology from Kalio, requires some better founda- tion. At all events, the significance of the Cabiri, as Cerealian powers of benign influence,* comes most prominently forward in Samothrace, more so even than the reference to the safety or danger of the mariner — an idea to which the voyages of the Tyr- rhenians gave rise. It is now time for a retrospective glance and general deduction. I think it is historically proved, that the swarm of Tyrrhene Pelasgians, who issued from Boeotia at the time of the Doric migration, centuries before Homer, carried with them, as the protect&rs of their race at home and abroad, the Cabiric deities and, with them, Cadmus Hermes — gods of an essentially mysterious worship, and re- established their rites wherever they took possession ' Orch., p. 301, where No. 4 is to be struck out. « Schol. Ven. II., i. 594. ' Orch., p. 460. 3. * Welcker, Prometh., p. 155 sqq. ' Lobeck, De Myster. Argum. i., p. 8. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 95 of new settlements, particularly in the islands at the north of the ^gean Sea. 2. As a second example, I subjoin an occurrence intimately connected with the above. The city of Thebes^ as we find from Euphorion's profound legend- ary researches, was presented by Zeus to Cora, on the day when she first, in favour of her bridegroom, raised from her countenance the bridal veil.^ This act of the bride was called avaKoKvirr^pia, and even gave general occasion to present-making among the Grecian people. Here the consecration of Thebes was ingeniously inwoven, by means of the mythus, into the history of the divine nuptials. Now, the same goddess was adored in an especial manner at Acragas, in Sicily, which was therefore called, by Pindar, the seat of Persephone •,^ and this city, also, is said^ to have been given by Zeus to Cora at the unveilment. The mythus was connected with the festival of the sacred marriage, {Qeo'ydnia,y which the Sicilians solemnized to Cora, and of which, the avaKoKvirr^pia doubtless formed a part.^ When all Sicily is called an unveilment-gift, this seems to me an expansion of the original mythus, which was more modest and strictly local.® Thirdly, Persephone was also worshipped in the neighbourhood of Cyzicus, in the Propontis, and is even said to have wrested that city from the giants in battle.' It is also related that Zeus gave Cyzicus to the goddess as a dowry ; but probably this word is inaccurately employed for ' Schol. Eurip. Phoen. 688. Comp. Meineke Fragm. 48. p. 114. 2 Pindar, P. xii. 2. * Ancient Schol. Pind. 01. ii. 16. * Pollux, i. 37. * Later Schol. Olymp. vi. 160. « See Plutarch, Timoleon, 8. Schol. Pind;, Nem. i. 16. ' Agathocles in Steph. BiisZmoi. 96 DETERMINATION OF the gift of avaKoKvirr^pia} Here we have the same local legend in three different places^ all far distant from each other ; and it would surely be extremely wonderful if it originated in them all independently, and without a common cause. History teaches us the contrary. A Cadmean family called the ^gidse, removed from Thebes to Laconia, not long before the Doric migration ; proceeded thence to Thera ; and among other places went also to Gela and Acragas,^ where, under the name of Eumenidse, they attained the highest consideration and renown. They, doubt- less, brought with them the hereditary worship of Thebes, and, through their influence, succeeded in diffusing it widely at Acragas, where the mythi con- nected with it became naturalized. But Cyzicus and the surrounding country were for a long time in- habited by Tyrrhene Pelasgians,' who had left the Thebais at the same time with the JEgidae.* Thus, therefore, the Cyzican, as well as the Acragantine mythus, lead us back to the Thebaic ; and it is at the same time manifest, as the three places had no intercourse subsequently, that, previous to the Doric migration, Thebes had been celebrated as a bridal gift, and that the tepoi 'ydfioi of Cora and Hades was also well known to tradition. At least, I don't see how we can escape from this conclusion. 3. Another example carries us higher up, and leads us further into pure mythology. Apollo, after slay- ing Python, is said to have fled from Delphi to Tempe, and to have there made expiation. Plutarch^ • Appian, Mithridat. 75. ^ Orcli., p. 329 sqq. ' Conon, 41. Comp. Steph. B. Ku^/xos and BieZixog, &o. * See above, p. 88. ' Quaest. Grace. \2De Defectu OracuL, 14,21, THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 97 and jElian^ are indeed the earliest authors extant by whom'this is mentioned; the former quoting the legend of the Delphians, the latter that of the Thessalians. The learned Callimaohus, however, had given before a more complete exposition of the mythus, as is evident from the fragment in Stephanus.^ But much stronger evidence of the legend's antiquity is afforded by the festal rites which were connected with it, namely, a solemn octennial embassy {dempla) of the Delphians^ which brought home from the vale of Tempe a branch of the sacred laurel beside which Apollo had once made atonement. It is contrary to all analogy to suppose that such observances, forming an essen- tial portion of an ancient worship, were only the off- spring of later antiquity.. The mimic representation of the battle, which was followed up by despatching the Theoria, was precisely the same at the time of Ephorus, as it was when witnessed by Plutarch four centuries afterwards. This will be quite obvious to any one who compares these writers.^ Both state that in this scene, the tent {KuXiag or o-k^v^) in which Python lies, is set on fire while the fight rages with- in. But these festal processions in which laurel branches are broken and carried about, belong alto- gether, from the earliest times, to the service of Apollo. We find the laurel-bearing god and his sacred Daphnephoria in a great number of places throughout Greece, particularly in Thebes, where they are an evident imitation of those at Delphi; and are also celebrated in mythology.* These observa- ' ^lian, Var. Hist., iii. 1. ^ Steph. Byz. Aiimi&g. ' The former in Strabo, ix. 422 \ (521 Tzsch.) ; and the latter BeDef. Or. li. * Dor., vol. i. pp. 263, 348, 440. H 98 DETERMINATION OF tions are merely designed to obviate some objections, and to open the way for the discovery of a very ancient, and, at the same tinle, a certain datum for the long existence of that mythus and festal usage. The legend of Apollo's purification is also found else- where, viz., in the Cretan city of Tarrha, which was situated among the mountains in the western part of the island, in a narrow valley full of cypresses and other trees.^ Hereihere was a famous sanctuary of Apollo,^ where expiations were instituted to the Pythian god.^ The neighbouring* inhabitants of Elyrus also honoured the deity, for they sent to Delphi the image of a she-goat suckling two children, which, according to local tradition, were begotten by the god himself while he abode at Tarrha.® In con- sequence of these sacred observances, Elyrus pro- duced a famous bard and priest of expiation, named Thaletas, who was greatly celebrated in the Pelopon- nesus, before the 40th Olympiad.* So much for the worship of Apollo, and the expiatory ceremonies of Tarrha and the neighbourhood. Now, the purifica- tion of Apollo, after the destruction of Python, is also laid at Tarrha, as well as at the altar in the vale of Tempe. A native of Tarrha, called Carma- nor, (perhaps originally KaOapudvwp,) was the purifier according to the Cretan tradition.'^ All the cir- cumstances show that this legend belonged to that ' See Theophrastus, Hist. Plant., ii. 2. Comp. Sieber's Travels in Crete, i. 207, 467. 2 Staph. Byz. s. v. Tagga. ' (KnomauB in Euseb. Prcep. Ev., p. 133, Steph. * See Hceck's Creta, i. p. 389. ' Pans., x. 16, 3. ^ Dor., vol. ii. pp. 14, 334. ' Pans., ii. 7, 7. 30, 3.; x. 7, 2. 16, 3. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 99 locality ; and, in like manner, it can be easily per- ceived that it is not an arbitrary or idle invention, but an ancient and native tradition. Pausanias even heard at Delphi a legend and oracle, according to which the blood-stained hands of the god were cleansed by Cretans.^ Moreover, we find that the two traditions, the Delpho-Thessalian and the Cretan, were^^ even in ancient times, brought together and blended into one. Apollo is now purified from the slaughter of the dragon by Chrysothemis in Crete, and then goes to Tempe to obtain the laurel.^ This amalgamation, however, is evidently the result of a scientific striving. The genuine Delphic legend gives no countenance to this, for it makes the god flee to Tempe immediately after the deed. Now, it is plain, as there is not a third of the kind, that of the two traditions, one has given birth to the other— one is derived from the other. But whathadCrete to do with Tempe during the historical period ; and how could the idea have occurred to the Cretans of naturalizing among themselves the sacred legend of that valley ? If we know, on the contrary, that Crete itself was partly peopled with Dorians, who, as we are aware, were devoted to the worship of Apollo, nay more, that they had come from the neighbourhood of Tempe ; who will then hesitate to ascribe the trans- plantation of the worship and the legend to this mi- gration ? Andron, who is quoted by Strabo,^ had surely some foundation for this statement ; and there is no ground whatever for pronouncing the passage ' Paus., X. e, 3. 2 Schol. Find. Pyth. Hypothesis 3, in Bockh. ^ X. 475 *, and Steph. Adgm. Comp. Diod., iv. 60., r. 80. 100 DETERMINATION OF in the Odyssey regarding the Dorians in Crete to be spurious. The ancients never thought of that ; and if I once fancied myself that I discovered in it a " solennis anachronismus"^ this was, because I had not yet surveyed the mutual relations of the Cretan forms of worship, legends, and institutions, which can only be explained by means of this migration. Any one who considers this expedition impossible, because the Doric navy was of later date, and at all times inconsiderable, must also deny the conquest of Britain by the Saxons and Angles, because Hamburgh flourished long afterwards, and the Saxons never fitted out large fleets. But, altogether, the more deeply we enter into the relations in which the local mythi and religion of one place stand with regard to those of another, the more are we enabled to arrive at determinations of this nature ; and the more clearly do we perceive, that, although the pride and vanity of the priests may have occasionally influenced the localization of legends, yet, in the main, the propagation of mythi, especially in earlier times, was not subjected to caprice or ac- cident, and that, unless with families and tribes them- selves, their principal, nay, almost their only spiritual possession scarcely ever migrated. 4. The six Dorian cities at the south-western point of Asia Minor deduced their origin from Argos, Epidaurus, Troezen, and Sparta in the Peloponnesus. They celebrated the Triopia, a federal festival, on the promontory of Triopium, in the territory of Cnidus. The Triopian gods were Apollo,^ the tutelar deity of the Doric race ; Poseidon, (who was probably added ' ^ffinet., p. 154. 2 Herod., i. 144. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. lOl by the Halicariiassians,) together with the nymphs;^ and, lastly, Demeter. We owe our knowledge of the fact that she was of the number, to the following train of reasoning : An inhabitant of the small island of Telos, which lay close to the Triopian cape, took part in the establishment of Gela, which was founded by the Rhodians in the 16th Olympiad: he became the ancestor of a line which flourished in that city, and afterwards iii Syracuse, and to which Gelon and Hieron belonged.^ Now, we know that this Telian (who was, perhaps like Hieron's father, called Deino- menes) brought with him the Triopian rites to Sicily;^ and we know further that a descendant of his, named Telines, in consequence of recalling exiles to Gela, and placing them under the safeguard of his sanctua- ries, obtained for himself the dignity of a Hierophant to the subterranean gods, viz., Demeter, Hades, and Cora.* This office was still preserved by Hieron, who is celebrated by Pindar as a servant and worshipper of Demeter and Cora,^ to whom also he erected a ma^ificent temple/ It is evident from this that the sacra of Telines were nothing else than the ancient religion of his family; and that, therefore, the worship of the earth-gods constituted a portion of the Trio- pian observances at the Dorian festival. Now we also find the Triopian rites elsewhere: for the name Triopas^ is, in several mythi, placed in connexion with the worship of Demeter. Callimachus, in his hymn to Demeter, introduces a tradition that ' Schol. Tbeocr., 17. 68. ^ Herod., vir. 153. ' Schol. Pind., P. ii. 27, with Bdckh's learned note * Herod., ib. ' Olymp., vi. 94. Comp. Schol. Vratisl. ^ Diodor., xi. 26. ' Or Triops, Hellan. ap. Stephan. B. Tgiairm. 102 DETERMINATION OF the Pelasgians had dedicated to her a sacred grove in the Thessalian plain of Dotion, and that there dwelt Triopas, whose son Erysichthon was tormented with insatiable hunger, as a punishment for the desecration of her sanctuary. This legend is very easy to inter- pret, when we know that Erysichthon was also called A'lQwv, "burn,'"^ and that lpviTll3tj is "mildew," (pro- duced by sun-burn upon dew,) a bitter foe to Demeter, who elsewhere, under the name of ^Epvtri^la, warded it off. We have further to compare the Argive tra- dition in Pausanias,^ that Demeter was called Pelasgis at Argos, because Pelasgus, the son of Triopas,' con- secrated her temple. Thus, therefore, the name of Triopas presents itself in three different places, — for Triopium in Asia Minor is also said to have been founded by a Triopas, — and always, too, in connexion with the worship of Demeter : hence, Herodes Atticus called a temple to Demeter and Cora and the subter- ranean gods Triopium, and Triopas himself Ajjwos.* Of course some historical connexion must have ex- isted between the three places just named. It is very easily supplied between Argos and Dotion by the Pelasgic inhabitants of both regions ; and if we derive the Triopia of Cnidus from the former place, we have the plausible ground to go upon, that the Doric population of the six cities, who raised them to the dignity of a national solemnity, had for the most part emigrated from Argolis. But this ground is completely swept away by the fact, that these Dorians, when they came to the Peloponnesus, mani- ' Hellan. ap. Athen., x. 416, &c. ^ n. 22, 2. ' Hellan. Schol. II., iii. 75. * Visconti Iscrizioni Triopee. THE AGE OF A MYTHUS. 103 fested on different occasions a spirit of hostility to the mystic worship of Demeter,^ to which the Trio- pian ceremonies evidently belonged, and that the Rhodian colony followed very close on this immigra- tion. On the other hand, a tradition, well known in antiquity, points at a connexion between Dotion and Triopium in Caria. It says that Triopas emigrated from the Thessalian territory to the district of Caria, and that the adjoining island of Syme was peopled at the same time.^ The emigration of the Pelasgi from Dotion was occasioned, according to the tradi- tion, by the invasion of an heroic race — the Lapitho- Phlegyans ; hence, Triopas himself is even called by some the son of Lapithas, (as others made Erysichthon a son of the neighbouring race of Myrmidons.)' It could not, in any event, have taken place within the historical era. It is clear, from all this, that the CarianTriopia were connected with those of Thessaly, and that the connexion had its foundation at a very remote period, when the a/boriginal Pelasgi, and other warlike tribes, came into collision in the latter coun- try; consequently, also, that the germs of the Triopian mythi regardiiig Demeter must have been already in existence. ' Herod., ii. 174. ^ Callim. Dem., 25. Mnaseas ap. Athen., vii. 296°- Paus., X. 11. 1. Diodor., v. 61. In tbis author everything is brought into pragmatical connexion. 5 Comp. Orch., p. 195. 104 ON THE AGE OF THE CHAPTER VIII. On the Age of the Great Body of Mythi. • ' In this way, it seems to me, can the existence of mythi be traced back into the mythic ages, and their origin shown to be antecedent to the period of artifi- cially elaborated poetry. It would fee needless to multiply examples ; and, at any rate, they would not prove the general proposition which we shall now attempt to establish, viz., That the great mass of mythi must have had their origin in the mythic period itself; or, in other words, that the majority of mythi sprang up at the time of which in general they treat, and continued thereafter in a state of progressive development. It appears to me, however, that the truth of this proposition is deducible from this cir- cumstance of itself, that those mythi which have arisen out of historical events are in fact mythi solely because they carry back real occurrences into early heroic history, and blend them with it, — a process which would have been impossible, if such a history had not had a previous existence in general belief. In order to advance further, we set out from the fact, that the Greeks made a strongly marked distinction between the strictly mythic and the historical period. The ages down to the migration of the Heraclidse — which stood neutral between — were alone the theme of mythic narrations ; these alone were chosen as the materials and subject of their works by the epic, lyric, and dramatic poets, as well as by the plastic GREAT BODY OF MYTHI. 105 art ; and with these did tradition occupy itself in an especial manner. They were succeeded by a period of more than five hundred years, which, previous to the Alexandrians, (Rhianus and others,) was scarcely ever mentioned in song. This period was at the same time destitute of contemporaneous history, faintly illustrated by merely a few literary memorials, — even that during only the latter half, — and evidently ne- glected by tradition, which did not preserve more than brief and meagre records of some -isolated transac- tions, and legendary, but yet not purely mythic, accounts of others ; for the mythic and poetic transfor- mation of materials was immediaitely connected with removal of the subject up to the heroic times. Now, how can this difference, this complete contrast, be ex- plained ? Perhaps because remote ages alone afforded sufiicient scope and freedom for mythic representa- tion, and that intermediate space took an interest in the mythus alone? But antiquity of itself is not enough ; for, to the 30th Olympiad, all the time prior to the Olympiads was sufficiently distant to people it with inventions, if that were all that was required : at a period which knew no other mode of transmis- sion, in a connected form, than legend and poetry. Perhaps, however, it may be thought that the mythus could only represent a state of things whicli no longer subsisted, and that precisely for that reason were the relations of Achaian Greece adapted to it, inasmuch as these were completely subverted by the migration of the Heraclidae, and made way for a condition which continued during those five hundred years without any essential change. But the mythus does not, by any means, exhibit otherwise such a predilection for 106 ON THE AGE OF THE the times which stand out of connexion with the present ; on the contrary, it took usually the greatest interest in those during which it was disseminated alive, as is particularly demonstrated by the legends of colonies and families. Consequently, that distinct separation of the mythic and non-mythic periods can scarcely be satisfactorily accounted for in any other way than by the supposition that the mythic mode of conception and representation was quite peculiar to that early age, and that all the mythic cycles were then tracedj and were afterwards filled up by the bards. This brings us to the proposition, That the time (which we claimed above as a necessary epoch in the civilisation of the Grecian people) in which the invention of mythi constituted the main intellec- tual activity of the Greeks, was one and the same with the time to which these mythic narrations refer, — a time which was followed by another, that still, indeed, occupied itself chiefly with mythi, represented them poetically, completed them, and even added new ones to their number, but was incapable of con- verting the present into mythus. Another considera- tion also leads to the same result. The mythi give accounts of the expeditions and wanderings of ancient heroes, in which real occurrences of the mythic period are recorded.^ Now these for the most part cannot have come down to posterity otherwise than by tra- dition, beginning at the event and propagated by communication constantly kept up. For if we assume a point in later times at which the legend was first formed, it must -either have been an empty fiction, — an idea which has been already repudiated, and ' See p. 9. GREAT BODY OF MYTHI. 107 which is discountenanced by the connexion which we know to subsist between such legends, — or it must have been a conclusion of apparently universal admissibility from really existing circumstances of every kind. But the relations of that early period were greatly altered by the revolution which brought it to a close ; and those which succeeded gave but little scope for mythi. Records, therefore, of early relations which no longer existed could alone give birth to the mythus : but it must not be imagined that these were of an historical nature ; for the Ideal in the mythus was nothing superadded, but was, as we have already shovra, an essential element from the very outset. The mythus, itself, therefore, was handed down from that period by tradition. Perhaps this also will be rendered clearer by an example. The ^ginetan mythology mentions that -^acus son of Zeus, reigned in ^gina as prince of the Myrmidons ; but that his sons Peleus and Tela- mon, having imbrued their hands in the blood of their brother Phocus, were obliged to quit the island, and that Peleus took refuge with Actor at Phthia.^ The Myrmidons are the same race to which alone the name of "EXKtives was yet applied in the Iliad. They must, then, have dwelt in ^gina ; they must have migrated to Thessaly, if the mythus contains fact. And here it assuredly does : for, as it is beyond doubt that a district near Phthia, or in Phthiotis, was formerly called Hellas, so we also know to a certainty that the anti-Doric inhabitants of ^gina bore the peculiar and distinctive appella- tion of "EWtivei. Complete evidence of this is fur- ' uEginet., p. 12-23. ]03 THE AGE OF MYTHI. nished by the worship of Zevs 'EWaviog. I have shown, especially from Pindar/ that he was the ancient Zevg yeveOXiog of the iEacidse, and that it was not until the primitive and extremely-restricted signification of the Hellenic name was forgotten, and its comprehensive meaning on the contrary univer- sally diffused, that he was regarded as a Zeus Pan- hellenius, who onee, through the instrumentality of iEacus, delivered all Hellas from a general pestiT lience.^ Thus, therefore, it is established, that the inhabitants of both districts were of the same race, and that the legend (which, in its original form, derived ^acus himself from Phthia) speaks the truth. But this relationship was completely de- stroyed by the Dorian and Thessalian migration, which caused the Thessalian Hellas and the Island of ^gina to be peopled by entirely different inhabi- tants, and broke up all connexion between them. Now, legends representing that affinity could not spring up anew; at least,, they would "always pre- suppose others of older date, contemporaneous, in short, with the sway of the Myrmidons. And it is evident, that the story of Peleus' migration to Thes- saly, whatever changes it may have afterwards undergone, was, in its most essential element, con- nected directly w^ith the event. ; N. V. 5. '■^ ^ffinet., p. 18. Comp. Disseu. Explic. ad Pind., 1. 1. WHEN MYTH-CREATION CEASED. 109 CHAPTER IX. Approximate Determination of the Time when the Creation of Mythi ceased to prevail. From these examples furnished by the mythic ages, I return to historical instances. It might be gathered from those which have been already ad- duced, that even after the commencement of the Olympiads, the faculty of producing mythi was by no means extinct in the provinces and cities of Greece ; but, on the contrary, was alive and active. At the same time, it must also be borne in mind, that co- lonies to distant and unknown coasts stimulated the mind, in an especial manner, to the invention of mythi. They conjured back, in some measure, that olden time, when nations still often changed their abodes, and built new sanctuaries to their gods. To risk themselves on the great deep, on an inhospitable shore, and in battlewith the barbarous natives, in order to obtain a new home, could not be done at that time without great daring, and reliance on higher powers. Ancient promises and Pythian o'raclies must animate their courage, families who traced back their de- scent to hoar antiquity must direct the expedition, soothsayers of high repute must sanction every mea- sure. At the choice of the site, at the foundation of the first habitations, everything was full of signifi- cance, and all listened for boding sounds. Every success was owing to the favour of a god or a hero ; every misfortune a consequence of neglecting the 110 TIME WHEN THE will of Destiny ; an invisible world stood constantly behind the visible. Such relations and circum- stances must, even at a time which was otherwise more favourable to transmission than creation, have nevertheless still produced mythi — mythi in the proper sense, in which the Real and the Ideal were most intimately combined, and in which their authors themselves placed entire faith. But how: long, it will here be asked, can we, upon the whole, suppose the production of mythi to have continued in a state of activity ? This question is already in some measure solved by the idea which we have thus far acquired of the mythus, and single examples will perhaps lead us further. The blend- ing together of the Real and the Imaginary could, from the very nature of the conception, last only so long as men were not accustomed to represent each by itself. So soon as the practice obtained, of ex- pressing notions on the world and deity as such, at first in single propositions, and then in connected and dialectic discourse, so soon as it became cus- tomary to represent separately the result of inquiry into teal transactions, the invention of mythi must have died out. Philosophy and history, when they began to flourish about the 60th Olympiad — their literary appearance, however, presupposes a long preparation of internal activities — relieved the ex- piring mythus. Secondly, we have here to consider that the mythus has its roots in oral tradition, and therein lives and, thrives ; but whenever written re- cords come into use, it is straitened and oppressed by their certainty and precision. Still more must changes in the religious mode of thinking have de- CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. Ill stroyed the mythus in its essence ; and indeed the following epochs may here be distinguished, although not separated from each other by clearly marked and continuous lines. First in order stands the period which created mythi from manifold religious ideas and feelings, and their application to nature and humanity ; then follows another which handed them down with full belief, as real accounts of a primitive marvellous age ; then a third, (the Pindaric,) whose religious faith was modified by philosophic specula- tion, and entered, therefore, into conflict with many an ancient mythus ; and lastly, the period of philo- sophic illumination, (that of Euripides,) which con- sidered mythi as forms, — not forms, however, of pri- mitive thought, but of its own ideas which were introduced instead. The first alone is, properly speaking, the creative period ; but the second carried on the same activity by means of analogies and deductions ; the third modified in obedience to an internal necessity ; the fourth sported capriciously with mythology, and at length merely employed it as an indispensable substratum and embellishment to poetry. Now it is indeed true that those spiri- tual tendencies only afiected, to any great extent, the cultivated portion of the Grecian people; and that in districts where thfere was little intercourse, the mountains of Arcadia for instance, and among the common people, the ancient mode of thinking must have longer continued to exist. But the mythus must, for that very reason, have essentially degenerated. It ceased to be the current expression of civilisa- tion ; it became an obscure popular legend, a fireside tale. This seems to me to be mainly characteristic 112 TIME WHEN THE of the latter, that it lives among the lower classes, and stands at antagonism with the prevailing en- lightenment. It holds nearly the same relation to the mythus which the belief in ghosts bears to reli- gion. It separates dark imaginings from their con- nexion in remote ages, and transfers them to a state of civilisation to which they are utterly alien. Thus, those who are versed in our German popular tales can discover in them traces of a period anterior to the Christian era. This reasoning is fully confirmed by the investiga- tion of particular cases. Mythi which relate to colonies, and to intercourse with foreign nations, furnish the most distinct information on the subject. Heraclea on the Pontus, according to the only pre- cise account, that of Scymnus,^ who probably drew on Ephorus, was founded at the time when Cyrus subjugated Media : therefore, about the 55th Olym- piad. Boeotians and Megarians, under Gnesiochus, were the founders ; and Hercules vvas the hero to whom the colony was dedicated. Now, this Heraclea was truly a mother of legends ; and a host of mythi about Hercules and the Argonauts were here partly naturalized, partly new-modelled, and constructed from the most diversified indications.^ To the for- mer class belongs, for example, the dragging up of Cerberus, which was transferred to tbis region." This mythus had previously its locality in Boeotia, where Hercules Charops, ascending from the nether world, was worshipped at Coronea.* To the latter belongs the legend, that Hercules had before, in con- ' Hudson, T. ii. p. 56. ^ Orcli., p. 292. 3 Dorians, vol. i. pp. 443, 525. ■* Pans., ix. 34, 4. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 113 junction with the Mariandynians, defeated the Be- brycians and Mygdonians ; in the same way that the Heracleans had afterwards to fight against these nations, with the assistance of their Mariandynian bond-slaves. These were evidently Heraclean popu- lar traditions, and were introduced by Herodorus and other authors belonging to that city into mythology, where they took equal rank with older traditions.-^ But Heraclea is probably also the latest colony which \ gave rise to such a mass of mythi ; nay, particular ^ circumstances must have here lent their cooperation, unless Heraclea is in reality more ancient. In this respect it stands at that period almost alone ; as the few mythi which the founding of Massalia, in the country of the Celts, occasioned, for instance, the adventure of Hercules among the Ligyans, (with which was connected the founding of Heraclea, a city of the Massalians, at the mouth of the Rhone,) cannot afibrd a parallel. But the other colonies to which a numerous train of legends was attached, as Taras, Croton, Phaselis, Tarsus, Cyrene, &c., are all consi- derably older. On the contrary, the later settlements of the Athenians, and other Grecian races, have been aU handed down as plain historical facts ; and there is nothing further connected with them than an occa- sional genealogy, or simple continuation of a mythus. Besides the colonial legends, there is still another class, the age of which may be determined with tolerable certainty by historical data, those, namely, in which the acquaintance of the Greeks with other \ nations, whether of a friendly or hostile nature, was \ veiled. This also was practised, as we learn from ' Comp. Apollod., ii. 5, 9. I 114 TIME WHEN THE inquiry into single cases, down to about the 40th or 50th Olympiad. I will adduce a few examples, es- pecially in reference to Egypt, beginning with one of the oldest, — the mythus of Busiris. Herodotus re-^ futes, with great indignation, a legend Tvhich was current among the Greeks of his day, that Hercules went to Egypt, and was there destined as a sacrifice to Zeus ; but that, when at the altar, and already besprinkled, he burst his bonds asunder, and slew all the Egyptians.^ This is the oft-told legend of Busiris, the savage son of Poseidon, who caused all strangers to be put to death. It was alluded to, a generation before Herodotus, by the poet Panyasis,^ whose contemporary, Pherecydes,^ even gave the name of the king. But the legend manifestly came into existence at a time when the Greeks, although they had indeed often landed in Egypt, still felt, a secret dread of that strange and mysterious country: They must, however, have heard the name of the god Osiris, with the article, Pe-Osiris, from which the word Bovartpis is doubtless formed : and hence, a Busiris even figures in ApoUodorus, as son of -^gyp- tus. But all acquaintance with the internal condi- tion of that highly cultivated and pacific country and people, such as was opened up by means of Psamme- ticus in the 27th Olympiad, was still denied them. Accordingly, we must place the origin of the mythus in its proper root, farther back than that period. It agrees very well with this, that Busiris was already introduced into one of the Hesiodic poems, which partly come farther down than the 30th Olympiad. It ' II. 45. 2 Dor.^ yoi. ;. p, 533. ' Sturz, Frffm. 30, p. 132. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 115 appears, indeed, that he did not yet stand in any re- lation to Hercules, inasmuch as he was placed eleven generations before the time of the hero ;^ but it is evident that this was only a subsequent conclusion, formed from the mention of his parents in Hesiod, and from the established genealogies, by wMch, how- ever, in all probability, that poet was not influenced; Thus, also, it was calculated by Isocrates,^ that Busiris, son of Poseidon and Libya, live4 two hun- dred, years and four generations before Hercules, which comes nearly to the same thing. A period of frieildly intercourse succeeded, when the Ionic mercenaries, who were introduced into the country by Psammeticus, surrounded the throne of the king at Sais, as was particularly the case under Apries, in the 50th Olympiad ;^ and this gave rise, among others, to the legend of a relationship between the Saltans and Athenians, which, afterwards developed by historians, came in its last and worst form into our historical books. I shall here, in order to facili- tate our survey, specify once more, with all possible precision, the epochs of this development. 1. The priests of Sais became, through intercourse with the lonians, friends of the Athenians, {(pikaQ^vaioi,) and the notion arose, that their common goddesSj Neith-, Athena,* formed the bond of an ancient affinity. 2. Greek authors made out from this that Sais was i originally colonized from Athens.^ 3. A work called TpiKcipavoi 1] TpiiroXiTiKos, which assailed with sting- ing and calumnious abuse three Greek cities, with ' ' Theon. Progymn., c. 6. p. 87. ^ Busiris, 5. ' Herod., ii. 163. * Plato, ' Callisthenes and Phanodemus. 116 TIME WHEN THE their legends and histories, gave this quite an opposite turn, and taxed the Athenians with being Egyptians. This work was ascribed to Theoporapus by later writers, as Africanus and Proclus,^ who quoted the passage as if it were the testimony of the sober his-< torian, (for it is quite clear from the context, that in Proclus also we must read airo'iKovs, not eTroiKovi,) and therefore charged him with calumny, as did also Atticus, the Platonist, in Proclus, and Lucian. Better critics considered the work a forgery;^ and Pausanias* informs us (for it is plain that he speaks of the Tricaranos) that this libel on Athens, Sparta, and Thebes, was written by Anaximenes of Lampsacus, who circulated it under the name of Theopompus, in order to make him universally hated. I am of opinion that it was a rhetorical performance, and that it was fathered on Theopompus, because he had been once for all stigmatized as a slanderer. In these circumstances, I am not afraid of incurring the charge of presumption when I repeat the assertion,* that Cecrops' derivation from Sais is not a mythus, but an historical sophism. There is no doubt, however, that purely mythic narrations arose from intercourse with Egypt, as well as Phoenicia. Of this we shall give below some examples. The case is different with the con- nexions formed in aftertimes with foreign countries, — with Medes, Persians, Arabians, and Indians. Media and Persia did not become of importance to the Greeks until the dovrafall of Lydia, after the 58th Olympiad. The son of Medea, whom Hesiod ' Ad Tim., p. 30. Basil. 2 gee above, p. 38 sq. 3 VI. 18. 3. i Oomp. Orch., p. 107 sqq, CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 117 calls Medeus or Medus,^ yvas then explained to have been a Mede, and a brother was assigned him in the Persian,^ who was still more appropriately derived from Perseus. In short, the legends which these connexions occasioned were limited to a few gene- alogies, in general very simple and insignificant, and to the geographical expansion of legends already known, remote being substituted for neighbouring regions, — an Indian or Arabian for the Boeotian Nysa. But both are in some degree philosophical activities, — if the name can with propriety be applied to such rude attempts, — partly of Hellenic compilers of my thi, partly of foreign collectors, who worked into their hands, as the ^oyiot twv ^oivIkoov, rwv Tlepa-ewv of Herodotus, and also the later priests of Egypt and Syria. In this way, also, did the learned men who accompanied the expedition of Alexander, inter- pret from Grecian mythology the names of the nations with whom they became acquainted, and soon found a place and connexion for them in that rich and copious whole : ^ and thus have Grecian writers exercised an ingenuity frequently ridiculous, in mixing up Greek and foreign history confusedly to- gether. It is often very amusing to light on the traces of their conclusions, as in the following ex- ample : The mythic Abantes in Euboea had a pecu- liar fashion of wearing the hair, — the same that was generally called the Thesean, and which was also found in Arabia. Some fancied that the Abantes had adopted it from the Arabians ;* and others did not scruple to make the Arabians, merely on thi^ ' Orch., p. 281, 7. ^ stgpj,_ b_ uj^^^ 2 Conip. among otliers, OrcL., p. 281. * See Pint., Thes. <'!. 118 TIME WHEN THE account, travel all the way, and come with Cadmus to Euboea.^ Thus, then, the adoption and trans- ference of Asiatic legends into the sphere of the Grecian, and their mutual incorporation, are very often nothing more than a learned activity, — always, I imagine, unless the races themselves bordered on each other, or came otherwise into close contact, or unless the Greeks borrowed aworship from foreigners, as in the case of Adonis. For every legend requires a soil where it can live and propagate ; it must be connected with families, nations, or sanctuaries, in order to preserve a traditionary existence. But where could any tine tell bf the expeditions of Dionysus to India, and the Argonautic navigation round the north of Europe, when these lands knew nothing of the god or the heroes, and even the in- habitants of Greece were indebted to men of learning for their information on these subjects. A striving which pervades the whole of Grecian history, and never became entii-ely extinct, is that of genealogizing. It continued to exist during the period of pragmatic history, through the belief that every spot, every valley, received its name from some ancient sheik or cacique. Thus even Pausanias had still to deal with those who explained everything by means of genealogies, (7e»'eaXo7erj' to. iravra eOiKova-i,) who, for example, out of the Pythian temple, at Delphi, manufactured Pythis, son of Delphus, and a prince of the olden time. But this striving has evi- dently its foundation in the genuine ancient manner of expression peculiar to the mythus. People, cities, mountains, rivers, gods, to the myth-inventing ages, ' Stra., X. p. 447. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 119 all became persons who were placed in human rela- tions towards each other, descended from one another, wedded to one another. . However easy it may be now to see through the invention in many cases, and to decypher the mean- ing of the connexion, these genealogies were never- theless, because there was no arbitrary or con- scious contrivance in them, received as actual truth, and were employed by logographers and historians, with full confidence in their general accuracy, in establishing a sort of chronology. If we give due, regard to this faith even the genealogies which were formed at the time of the later epic poets, and per- haps of the logographers themselves, , will not be viewed as, striotly speaking, pure inventions. Even these must have arisen by gradual extension, and conclusions which, at that period, carried general conviction. We shall first try to show this in the famous genealogy of the chief tribes of the Hellenians, which is derived from the Hesiodic ^^oiai. Prometheus,^ Pandora Deucalion by Pyrrha I-Iellen Dorus, Xuthue, ^olus AchsBus, Ion.' Now, the passage in Hesiod, indeed, names only the three brothers, without mentioning the sons of Xuthus ; but it is quite clear that in this series, ' I take it from Tzetz. on Lye, 284 ; and the Paris. Schol. to Appollon., iii. 1085. (The Schol. Horn., Od. x. 2, made use of other Hesiodic poems.) 120 TIME WHEN THE Xuthus also represents tribes ; and we must there- fore assume, as there have never been Xuthi, that in Hesiod, as well as in ApoUodorus and others, he stood for the lonians and Achseans. Instead of Deucalion, the progenitor of mankind, another legend, perhaps equally old, places Zeus the father of gods and men/ Now, every one must perceive that the above genealogy aimed at bringing the chief tribes of the Hellenians into a national unity, and could not, therefore, have originated before that name was employed to designate the entire people — a name which, in the Iliad, did not yet arpply to more than one small tribe in Thessaly. But its more extended use is coeval with the Hesiodic poems.* Its first distinctly ascertainable appearance is in the " Works and Days" of Hesiod. This genealogy must, therefore, have been formed at that time. That the author did not proceed arbitrarily, is evident from the fact of his making Xuthus the father of Ach sens and Ion, whereby he considerably disturbed the-agreement of the whole. It is clear that he must have had regard to the tra- dition which had already called these two the sons of Xuthus ; and, therefore, did not allow another father to be assigned to them. There must, then, have been no fathers of the others recognised in the tradi- tion ; and several dark legends, as the ^tolian one of Dorus, Apollo's son, could not have obtained general credit. Even the most ancient legend certainly spoke of a Hellen. Now, as the mythus follows the analogy of deriving genealogically the part from the whole, the ' Schol., Od. ibid. Comp. Find., P. iv. 167, who alludes to .this ; and Eurip. Melan., Fr. 2. - uEffinet., p. 155. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 121 subordinate from the general, (thus in ihe Theogony, the Mountains were brought forth by the Earth, and the Sun and Moon by the Light,) and as this mode of derivation had become to the mind a species of necessity, the poet (or whoever might be his source) boldly sang how the tribe-leaders, ^olus, Dorus, and Xuthus, were sprung from the loins of Hellen, the heaven-born, or offspring of the Titans. Perhaps the author of the complete genealogy was preceded by others, who, e.g., called Dorus a son of Hellen ; for the Spartans, at the time of Lycurgus, in obedience to the behest of the Pythian oracle, already worshipped Zeus Hellanius and Athena Hellania ;^ and the judges in the Spartan army,^ as well as the Agonothetse at the Olympic games, were called Hellanodicse. And when I reflect on that oracle, on the intimate con- nexion of Sparta and Olympia with Delphi, on the Delphic families of the "Oo-tot, who traced their de- scent from Deucalion ;^ and remember, on the other hand, that a Boeotian poem, produced not far from the Pythian sanctuary, speaks first of the Hellenians in this enlarged sense, the conjecture forces itself upon me, that this national sanctuary of the Hellenic name took no little part in the formation of that truly beautiful legend ; by means of which all the Grecian tribes, severed for so many centuries by bitter feuds and destructive wars, were at length united into one family by the bond of brotherhood. After this preparation, we may now examine another well-known genealogy, which does not unite ' According to the unquestionably correct emendation iu Plut., Lye. 6. 2 Dor., ii. p. 255. ' Dor., i. p. 241. 122 TIME WHEN THE the Hellenic tribes with each other, but the Hel- lenians with the Asians and Libyans; and which more nearly belongs to the times of which it is pro- perly our business to treat in this chapter. I set it down as it is given by ApoUodorus,^ who partly fol- lows Pherecydes.^ It was known in its essential portions to ^schylus, Pindar, and Herodotus ; and must, therefore, have been many Olympiads older than them all. lo-Isis, Zeus Epaphus-Apis by Memphis Libya bv Poseidon 1 Agenor, Belus, by Telephaasa by Achinoe, daughter j of Nilus Europa, Cadmus, Phoenix, Cilix. ^gyptus, Danaue. -^gyptiadsB, Danaides. Now, here we have the fable of lo, which is mani- festly old Grecian in its fundamental elements, and which had its local habitation at Argos. A Hesiodic poem speaks of her transformation into a cow ; and in that form she even made her appearance at Byzan- tium at the building of the city.* On the contrary, there are no old Grecian traditions of her son Epa- phus ; whence it is clear that he is no other than the Egyptian Apis or Pe-Apis, whose name has been 1 II. 1 ; iii. 1. * Schol. Apollon., iii. 1185 ; in Sturz, 15. p. 108. ^ See page 72 sq. CREATION OF MYTHI GEASED. 123 somewhat altered by the Greek pronunciation.^ Now, he could not be called the son of lo before the latter was identified with Isis, — an event which might have even taken place soon after the naturalisation of the Greek mercenaries in Egypt in the 27th Olympiad. For nothing more was wanting to lead to it, than the sight of one of the usual representations of Isis with the horns of a cow on her head. The Greek mmt have recognised in it his lo, of whom we have seen above, that she was, in the 30th Olympiad, repre- sented as having horns, (Kepoecra-a,) perhaps even already as the " Cow-homed Virgin," ( Uap^evos ^ovKcpcDi,) as iEschylus calls her, and as the Greeks painted her in the time of Herodotus.^ " This," the Greek would at once exclaim, " is surely our lo that is here so much adored as Isis, the great mother of the country ;" and he would also readily imagine how she had come thither: for the Argive legends had certainly from the first described her as a persecuted wanderer.^ Now, the Ionian, when transplanted by Amasis to the great city of Memphis, (after the second year of the 62d Olympiad,) would also per- haps see there, at public festivals, the much-revered calf Apis ; and how could he resist the conviction, which then flashed upon him, that the calf-god was son of the cow-goddess ; although, in the Egyptian creed, this was anything but true ? So far all was spontaneous creation, occasioned merely by intuition and the application of commonly received ideas, ' Here it is to be considered how usual are such alterations of names and words at the beginning of the acquaintance of two nations ; thus the early Romans turned Taw/i)id^i into Catami- tus, and KCxXu^ into Codes, &c. 2 II. 41. ' Comp. Welcker, Prometh., p. 134. 124 TIME WHEN THE entirely without the consciousness of invention ; and as to the relation of ApoUodorus, I have only to remark, that he introduced some additional matter into the history of lo, from his knowledge of the genuine legend of Osiris,^ in the same way that he even incorporates with the Argolic legend the god Serapis, who had but lately attained high honours by being confounded with a Cappadocian divinity.^ Fur- ther, Libya — the entire tract of country — was called the daughter of Epaphus and Memphis, the god and his sacred city ; for the Greek, accustomed in his mythi to derive cities and races from the gods, employed the same analogy in reference to foreign nations. But in order to develop the genealogy more completely, we must begin with Danaus and ^GYPTUS. It is difficult to imagine what could have determined the Greeks to bring together and frater- nise an Achaean tribe in Homer, and the land of Egypt. Yet it is obvious, if we consider the tenor of the legends which have just been examined, that here also we are not to look for primeval traditions, but for mythi to which historical relations gave rise. However, this portion of the whole is evidently the most ancient, for this reason of itself, that the genea- logy is here accompanied with circumstantial narra- tion ; and again, because materials of different kinds are blended and combined. I think that originally TO davaov''Ap'yos was employed in the same sense as TO Sly^Lov, the dry, waterless plain, (from Savbs dry.)* Thence speedily arose a Aavao? and a Aavd^, The poets sang how Zeus, in golden fructifying shower, descended to Danae, the parched earth ; and how ' II. 1. 3. 7. 8. Heyne Ohs., p. 103. " il. 1. 1. 6. ' Aavahs, according to the Etymologicum M. sub vo. Savdntj. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. US Danaus, the plain, in a similar state, begot froni; himself the springs of the country : for it seems to me obvious that the Danaides, the water-drawers, were originally nothing else than the fountain-nymphs of that region. Four of them certainly were so, viz., Amymone, Peirene, Physadea, and Asteria ; and with respect to others, their names prove it. The one that married Lynceus is probably the fountain of the Inachus in the Lynceum or Lyrceum.^ The Hama- dryads were perhaps originally mothers of them all, not merely of the ten in ApoUodorus.^ Now, the Danai, the inhabitants of the ^avaov "Apyos, were crowned with heroic fame in epic song, and thence it followed that Danaus became also a collective of Achcean heroes. It was in this capacity, I imagine, that he came in contact with iEgyptus; for the Greeks who invaded and plundered Egypt, transported their combats in that country also, as they did in other re- gions, back to the mythic ages. Perhaps these were at first Rhodian mariners, who had received the mythus of Danaus, together with the worship of Athene, from Argos, their mother-city. The mythus was thus conceived in the Danaid, in which epic the Danaides are represented as warlike heroines fight- ing on the banks of the Nile.'' However, it is not by any means clear whether Danaus and ^gyptus were here already regarded as brothers, and the former as having come from Egypt ; to me, at least, it appears more probable that the current form of ' The fiction of a battle between Danaus and Lynceus in Archi- loclius, Frgm. 131 Liebel., from Malalas Chronic, iv. in., agrees perfectly well with this. 2 Comp. Volcker iUd., p. 192 sqq., who also explains the sons of ^gyptus in a corresponding manner. ' %al roT &g intKi^ono 3o£s Aavaoro ^uyargsj ngorfsi) ii/ggf/os voTOii/.txi Ns/Xoio araxrof, ap. Clem. Alex., Strom, iv. 522 ■=. 126 TIME WHEN THE the legend was unknown until Egypt became Hel- lenised ; but the story of the battle might be older than the 27th Olympiad. Now, Danaus and iEgyptus are called the sons of Belus. That Belus denoted the Baal of the Babylonians, more immediately known to the Greeks as a Phcenician deity, is in itself clear ; and becomes still clearer by the com- parison of a Lydian genealogy, to which I shall soon revert. The Greeks mistook this god of anterior Asia for a real person, and placed him at the head of the Egyptian genealogy, which they could do only when they were still quite unacquainted with the actual religion of Egypt, and when that country and Asia still floated in very undefined boundaries before their eyes. At all events, Belus should also have become the head of the Phoenician race, which was represented by Cadmus and Phoenix; but it appears that, in an earlier tradition,^ Agenor was already established here as the father of Cadmus, and the genealogist was obliged to rest satisfied with placing Belus by his side. Cadmus was manifestly, at that early period even, regarded as a Phoenician founder of colonies, otherwise the genealogy which makes Belus and Agenor brothers could not have arisen. How he became so, from being the ancient Hermes of the Thebans and Samothracians, it would here be out of place to inquire. I think it is pro- bable that this transformation was occasioned by his connexion with Europa, who was already called by Homer the daughter of Phoenix.^ Nothing more was ' See the ancient oracle in Schol. Eurip. Phosu. 641, and Aristoph. Frogs, 1256. ^ Comp. the Review of Welcker'a Cadmus, Gottingen Bevietr, 1825. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 127 now left but to unite the genealogy of Epaphus, which was on the whole later, with the more ancient one of Belus. A motive for this was afforded by the circumstance that Danaus, in order not to be a bar- barian, must necessarily be derived from the Argive lo, who had come to Egypt ; and the intermediate link, which was still awanting, was supplied by Libya, who was united in marriage to Poseidon, as the god who holds dominion in and over the sea. Thus we see how, in this genealogy also, everything went on gradually, by means of deductions and analo- gies which, to those who formed them, doubtless seemed obvious enough ; and if indications of this kind cannot everywhere be ascertained with equal clearness and certainty, we ought to reflect that numberless connecting links, that many a determina- tive circumstance, is to us utterly lost.^ A parallel to the above is furnished by the genea- logy which Herodotus^ gives, as an historical truth, of the second dynasty of the Lydian kings, the so- called Heraclidse, the series of whom began with Agron and closed with Gyges. It runs thus : Her- cules, Alcseus, Belus, Ninus, Agron. Here Belus is unquestionably the god of Babylonia, as the juxta- position with Ninus and Nineve proves ; but the fact that Baal, who was above called the ancestor of Hercules in the ninth generation, here becomes his grandson, shows that the two genealogies originated in quit© different places. These princes of Lydia evidently traced their lineage from the east, — from ' Comp.Welcker, Prometh., p. 399. I coincide more with his views than with those laid down by Buttmann in his Essay : On the Mythic Connexion of Greece and Asia, Papers of the Berfin Acad. 1818. ^ I. 7. 128 TIME WHEN THE the great monarchies of anterior Asia ; whether cor- rectly or not does not here concern us : but Hercules, the Hellenic hero, was afterwards placed over these Asiatic progenitors. This was probably owing to the circumstance, that the Greeks observed in Lydia representations of an effeminate worship, in which the husband served the wife ; their Hercules in the ser- vice of the faineant Eurystheus^ occurred to them. Hercules, then, must have lived also in Lydia, and the princes of the country must be descended from him. The Lydians willingly adopted this genealogy, and interwove it with a native one, if the Greeks did not likewise do so. Alcasus, as we know, is only another name for Hercules, who, by a confu- sion of frequent occurrence, was converted into his eon. If the case stands thus, the probability arises that the mythus of Hercules was known to the Lydians, and had become naturalized among them, before those so-called Heraelidse were overthrown by the Mermnadse — an event which took place soon after the beginning of the Olympiads : for it would surely be a strange fancy to derive a dispossessed family from a far-famed and deified ancestor, of whom it was itself entirely ignorant. There is nothing which militates against this supposition, although the testimonies of the poets are aU of later date. The most ancient is the notice of the AvJol xp^cro- X'Twces in Pisander's Heraclea, (about the 33d Olym- piad,)^ which, after taking that circumstance into consideration, I no longer hesitate to refer to the legend of Hercules's residence in Lydia. Were it the design of the author (which it is not ' Comp. Dor., vol. i. p. 457. ^ Dor., vol. i. p. 538. CREATION OF MYTHI CEASED. 129 ill this work) to enter into exhaustive determinations, he would attempt to develop the entire relations of Greece to foreign countries during the first fifty Olympiads, by a series of mythi : those, for example, of Cepheus, the scene of which is laid in mythic Ethiopia ; those relating to Memnon and Phineus ; and others of the same kind. Here what has been adduced will suffice to show how active the invention of genuine mythi, particularly in national genealogies, continued throughout the period specified ; in com- parison with which, what was afterwards done scarce deserves consideration. In fact, everything that has been brought forward in this chapter contributes to the result, that down to the 50th Olym'piad, and per- haps somewhat further, i. e., until prose writing became generally adopted, ideas and opinions, blended with facts, frequently assumed, among the Grecian people, the form of mythic narrations, which were actually believed ; but scarcely later than that, if we distinguish the mythus from the philosophical allegory, the his- torical hypothesis, and the epigrammatic conceit. I have only to remark, that here we still speak of mythi in the sense laid down in the first chapter, and that the word is by no means intended to denote the mixture of faith and the marvellous with real history, which existed to a much later period.-' But, perhaps, in the opinion of many learned men, I ought not to have con- fined the proof to colonial legends and genealogical trees, but should have extended it to mystic religious mythi, from which both the former are said to have sprung only about the 70th Olympiad, and subsequent- ' Even the Delphian god acknowledged heroes down to the 72d Olympiad. Pans., vi. 9. 130 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. ly. I have hitherto said nothing of these mythi, be- cause the ordinary mode of treating them seems to lead to no sure results. In the Appendix something will be said regarding the Orphici. But even these learned men certainly do not believe that such hvo-tikoI Xojoi were legends or mythi, in the restricted sense in which it is here employed; but that, on the contrary, they were vain lies and imposture — and that is a further reason for leaving them aside. Another objection to the foregoing position might perhaps be taken from the so-called astronomical mythi, which many con- sider as partly the inventions of the Alexandrian poets and philosophers, and which, nevertheless, were treated by the ancients as mythi. Partly on this account, and partly because the various notions which prevail on this subject come into frequent contradic- tion with the opinions laid down in this work, it will be useful and proper to append here a brief examina- tion of the matter. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER IX. On Astronomical Mythi. The most ancient poet extant mentions merely the following constellations, (which term, however, must not yet be understood to denote actual figures with definite outlines,) viz., the Pleiades, the Hyades, the mighty Orion, the Bear or Wain, together with Bootes, and lastly, the Dog of Orion. He does not ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 131 appear to have known any others ; and Hesiod also, who had so frequent opportunities of naming stars, never alludes to any but these.-^ Of the constellations just enumerated, the two first have names of the patronymic form ; and form merely, it unquestion- ably is : for it is perfectly clear that, in the primi- tive Greek language generally, it often denoted nothing more than derivation. The Pleiadks are doubtless the Ship-stars, (from vXeiv.) In ancient Greece, the season for navigation began with their rising, and closed with their setting. ^ Hesiod, therefore, called them the daughters of Atlas, ^ in the sense in which Atlas was taken by the ancient poets, and which Volcker * has lately developed with great ingenuity : viz., the daughters of the never- resting, adventurous mariner, who must naturally have already taken the Seven Stars for his guide upon the ocean. Names, also, from Peloponnesian legends were given to each of the Pleiads ; and Hel- lanicus, in the Atlantis, brought a great number of mythi into connexion with the family of Atlas. Heroines were chosen, whose names signified splen- dour, as Electra and Sterope : or bore reference to navigation, as Celseno and Alcyone; but in others the allusion lies more concealed. This, however, does not appear to have taken place until a considerable time after Homer ; for the hymn to Hermes, which is later than Terpander,® does not call Maia a daugh- ter of Atlas, but merely a revered nymph.® It is not certain whether the cyclic poets employed these ' Comp. Shaubach, Hist, of Astronomy, p. 11-23. 8 Hesiod, Works and Days, 619. ' Ibid., 383. * Mythology of the Japetidae, p. 51. ^ y_ gi_ * Compare the review of Volcker's work in the Gottingen Review, ] 825. 132 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. names ; but, at all events, they imagined^ the Pleiades to he virgins who had lived on earth, and were after- wards placed among the stars, ^schylus also, as well as Simonides, was acquainted with this cataster- ism.^ However, the mythi regarding them were not thereby either formed anew or even modified ; and the only alteration was, that each of the Seven Stars now received a distinctive name. As the Pleiades were the Ship-stars, so the Hyades, as even Ovid says,^ were the Rain-stars. They were supposed to bring rain ; and were, therefore, regarded as fostering nymphs who had reared Bacchus at Dodona.* It is not, however, by any means certain that the stars were, from the first, considered to be these nurses. The probability seems to me, at least, rather to incline to the opinion that rain-bringing nymphs were wor- shipped from a remote period at Dodona, together with Jove the cloud-gatherer ; and that only afterwards were these connected and identified with the Rain- stars. The names which Pherecydes gives to these stars, viz.. Ambrosia, Coronis, Eudora, Phsesyle, Phseo, Polyxo, Dione, are also, as the last proves, derived from the Dodonian mythology. They were probably more ancient there than the fable of their transformation into stars ; which is, however, as old as Pherecydes. Nearly the same names, indeed, (Phsesyle, Coronis, Cleeia, Phseo, Eudora,) are given to this cluster in a Hesiodic poem ; * but this poem was the aa-rpiKri ^l^Xoi pronounced spurious by Athen- seus,® perhaps a product of the Alexandrian age, ' According to the extract in Schol. Ven. et min., II., xviii. 486. ^ Athen., xi. 490, e Schol. min., II., 1. 1. ^ Fasti, V. 167. * Pherecydes ap. Sturz., p. 108. « Theon ad Arat. Ph., 172. " XI. 491. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 133 (against which opinion, at least, the epigram of Cal- limachus on Aratus proves nothing.) Thus, therefore, with the exception of the genealogy of the Pleiades, which is also extended to the Hyades, we have found no astronomical fable, properly so called. With re- gard to the Bear, it is evident that the mere appear- ance of the constellation, and the comparison of it with all manner of animal shapes, could not have furnished a sufficient ground for the denomination. The Bear must have been otherwise significant and sacred in the eyes of the people who gave this name to the constellation. It is, therefore, probable (a,nd it is even said to have been sung by Hesiod) that the name originated with the Arcadians, to whom the bear was a symbol of their much-honoured goddess Artemis, and who, therefore, fancied that they even descried an image of it in the heavens. * But there is nothing in the mythus of Callisto to which we can lay claim as being invented for the sake of the constellation. The case may be different with Obion, the mythi re- lating to which must, as it seems to me, be divided into two classes. In the first place, the gigantic Orion, or Oarion with his brazen club, is an ancient hero, or rather a god of war and the chase, worshipped by the early inhabitants of Hyria (Uria) in Boeotia.-^ The Boeotians of that neighbourhood were somehow reminded of him by the brilliant constellation which has been ever since called Orion. Whether it was on account of its shape, or its extraordinary splen- dour, I will not undertake to decide. But the an- cient Greeks certainly did not believe in his actual and personal presence in heaven, any more than our ' See Tzetz. ad Lye, 328., comp. 938, 1410. Orch. p. 100. 134 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. countrymen, when they call three stars, " the Three Sacred Kings," identify the latter with the former. Accordingly, Orion is the only purely mythologi- cal figure in the heavens; and on that account it gave rise, even as a constellation, to mythi in the olden time. Orion pursuing the Pleiades ^ was ori- ginally nothing more than a simple figurative expres- sion for the position and direction of the stars. It was perhaps first decked out as a mythus by the poets ;^ and in the same way was the fiction of still earlier times invented, that Eos, "day-light," loved and carried off Orion.^ The Dog of Orion is a lucky com- bination of the ante-Homeric times, by which a dog, already stationed in the sky, was brought into con- nexion with Orion the god of hunting : so that, when the bear was viewed as the hunted animal, a mighty chase, which was aftferwards developed still more, swept over the entire heavens. The bright star which the Greeks called the dog, and the Romans Canicula, is, with the exception of the sun and moon, the only one, so far as I can discover, that occupied an im- portant rank in the worship of the Greeks. It makes its appearance, according to Homer, in the oirwpa, the season which ripens the fruit of trees, (on the 27th day of the Crab, according to Euctemon and Eudoxus;) and emerging from the bath of Oceanus, it beams with piercing brilliancy, and sends parching heat to afilicted man.* Hence it was called by Hesiod "Zelpios or "glow-star."® Now, the dog must have ' Hesiod, Works and Days, 619. ^ See the Cyclic Poets, ap. Scliol. II., xviii. 486, Pind; N. ii. 11, Dithyr. Frgra. 11, Bockh. ' Odyss., V. 121. « II., V. 5; xxii. 25. ' Thoog. 587, Shield, 397. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 135 been from the earliest ages the symbol of summer's heat, probably because canine madness occurs at that season : the animal which feels most intensely the influence of the fiery star being confounded with it by a child-like kind of intuition. The great at- tention paid to this particular phenomenon by the Greeks is manifest from this, that an entire district of Arcadia was called Kwaida, "dog-heat," merely be- cause there was a fountain there, the "AXva-a-os ■n-tj'yh, which was said to cure it ;^ and in Argos there was held, during the dog-days, a festival called Amis or Cynophontis, at which a great number of dogs were killed.^ Therefore two sacrifices were ofiered up at the rising of the dog-star, on the top of Pelion, to Jupiter Actseus, (a god of nourishment from ^nMTepos countrymen to observe, like the Phoenicians, ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 137 the Lesser Bear, which, from the path of its revolu- tion being smaller, is a safer guide to the navigator than the Great Bear. It w^as therefore called " the Phoenician constellation," and also, on account of its form, " the Dog's-tail." ^ Cleostratus, about the 60th Olympiad, gave a fixed place to the Ram and the Archer, (who received the form of a rude moun- tain-hunter,) both zodiacal constellations. In the 85th Olympiad, Euctemon was acquainted with the Water-bearer, the Arrow, the Eagle, the Dolphin, the Lyre, the Scorpion, and the Horse.^ There is nothing mythological in any of these appellations ; the names are, for the most part, given to the constel- lations from their figure, and also partly from their relations to atmospherical phenomena. The Ai'^, although not mentioned by any ancient poet, must have received that name before the time of Cleostra- tus, who placed the Kid beside it. It is obvious that he supposed the name to signify " goat," whereas it originally denoted the " storm-star."* Its mytholo- gical reference afterwards arose out of this miscon- ception. The tendency to call the constellations after mythic personages does not again make its appearance until the 110th Olympiad with Eudoxus, who is the first to mention Cepheus, Cassiopeia, Perseus, Andromeda, and the Sea-monster, as well as the Argo, the Centaur, &c. ; although even his celestial chart was still far from being held in repute by after ages, as is shown by Aratus, who, not long ' Arat. Phasn., 36 sq. with Voss's Eem. ^ According to Geminus, ib. ' As Buttmann has shown in Ideler's Invest, on the Origin of the Names of the Stars, p. 309. 138 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. after, described the sphere of Eudoxus, and who was acquainted with abundance of constellations, but with comparatively few mythological names.^ It is particularly evident from him, that to the Greeks, in most cases, the forms existed before their mytholo- gical names. For example, he describes Engonasis as a figure crouching on the knees, and with out- spread hands, remarking, at the same time, that this is a form which no one can distinctly eonplain? Succeeding writers show in what various and ingeni- ous ways this was attempted, and how many different cycles of mythi were laid under contribution for that purpose. In like manner, also, there were many instances in which, even subsequent to the time of Eudoxus, the mythological name superseded the simple description of form, as e. g., the star- stream was converted into Eridanus. Now, with regard to the poets of the ante- Alexandrian period, the starry heavens were to them scarcely, if at all, a subject of mythic narrations. We mi^ not allow ourselves to be here misled by the Rotations of Eratosthenes, Hyginus, and others. Such citations refer merely to the mythus employed for the pur- pose of illustrating the constellation, if the contrary is. not expressly stated, and sometimes even then. The so-called Eratosthenes (only an Excerpt from Hyginus, according to the probable opinion of Bern- hardy) begins thus the ninth chapter of Catas- ' The question is here left unexamined, whether these forms were devised by Grecian astronomers, or were elsewhere derived. The awkward collocation of many of them, and the strange way in which they cross each other — the Goat and Auriga for instance, seem to indicate a variety of sources. 2 V. 63 sqq. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 139 terisms. " The Virgin. Hesiod, in his Theogony, calls her the daughter of Zeus and Themis ;" and precisely the same statement is to be found in Hygi- nus.^ Now, we know to a certainty that Hesiod only gave the genealogy of Dice,^ without saying a word about her becoming a constellation, (had this been mentioned by the ancient bard, she would never have been represented bearing ears of corn ;) and it is evident that error and confusion have crept into both these works. The Scholiast on Germanicus quotes the catasterism of the Ram from Hesiod and Pherecydes. He manifestly misunderstood his predecessor, Hyginus, who cites the poet and the logographer merely with reference to the golden fleece.^ In like manner, the changing of Eridanus into a constellation, which Hesiod is asserted by the same writer to testify, is nothing else than a bold addi- tion to the Hesiodic fable in Hyginus,* (unless perhaps the aa-rpiK^ |8//3Xo? be the source of both.) Pisander and Panyasis, on the contrary, are expressly quoted merely ior the history of Hercules' combat with the Lion and the Hydra ;* with the same view Sophocles is referred to for Cassiopeia, Euripides for Andromeda ; and with regard to the figure of the Horse, we must be permitted to doubt that the catasterism of Hippo, the daughter of Chiron, is taken from the Melanippe of the latter poet ; but he may have given occasion to it by representing her as a predicter of events from the stars.^ I would not have deemed it necessary to expose the inaccurate statements of » Hygin., P. A. ii. 25. ^ V. 901. 3 P. A. ii. 20. ^ Fab., 154. « Eratosth., ii. 12. P. A. ii. 6. 24. « Frgm., 27- B. 140 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. these fable-compilers, if I did not observe that even sceptical inquirers often allow themselves to be de- ceived by them. In Engonasis, ^schylus is said to have recognised Hercules, who knelt down, when wounded in the country of the Ligyans,^ and was, in that posture, converted by Zeus into a constellation. This is, also, actually stated by Hyginus ;^ but here, it is a manifest addition by the mythographer, or his excerpter, as is proved by a comparison of the passage, given entire by Strabo,^ from the Prome- theus Unbound. And, if iEschylus really gave a place, amid his lofty imaginings, to such a cold pedantic conceit, how could the learned Aratus assert that no one had yet explained the figure of Engonasis. In Alexandria, also, abundance of fables were gathered from the tragedians, for the purpose of illustrating the constellations. Among others, there was an author named Hegesianax, who laboured in this way, and who is, therefore, the favourite authority of Hyginus in Attic legends.* But let us now withdraw our attention from all these equivocal citations, furnished by the compilers of astronomical mythi, and confine our view to the extant works and fragments of the period specified. To maintain, from the third and seventeenth odes of the Anacreontica, that the ancient poet of the ' Voss on Arat., 63. ^ Hygin., ii. 6. 3 IV. p. 183. * Thus, it might be inferred, from the fragment in Dionys. Hal., A. R. i. 12, that Hegesianax's Explanation of Ophiuchus, by Caniabon king of the Getce, P. A. ii. 14, so far as concerns the mythus itself, was taken from the Triptolemus of Sophocles ; it is now most clearly proved by a verse from it in Herodian, -k. (i,m. Xe^. p. 9, 30, Dind., where I should be inclined to read, -/.a,) Xag- va^Sinoi, 'ii VirSn ag%S( rawt. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 141 60th Olympiad mentioned both Wains or Bears, (Euripides certainly does so,) and described Bootes as a constellation with tolerable accuracy,-^ seems to me a very bold assertion ; for in these poems, the spurious equals, nay exceeds in amount what is genuine : and with regard to the Wains, moreover, the reading is not to be depended on. An Ana- creontic pentameter, quoted by Hyginus,^ and said to refer to Engonasis, " ay'^ov S' AlyeiSew ©tja-eos etrrl Xvpij" (thus it runs according to the emenda- tion of a scholar,) probably had not, in the original, the astronomical meaning which has been engrafted on it.^ Pindar certainly does not allude to the Horse in the heavens, (which has no wings even, and for that reason alone cannot be Pegasus, which was represented with wings on very old Corinthian Koppa-coins,) unless, perhaps, with Thiersch, whose grounds, how- ever, are not sufficient, we read apyewal (parvai. Nei- ther does Pindar refer to Aquarius ; he only applied, like previous interpreters, the name of Ganymede* to the daemon of the overflowing Nile — probably the same that the people of Chemmis, on account of his magic shoe, identified^ with Perseus. I find in Pindar only one astronomical mythus— that is to say, if Bockh" correctly assigned a poetical fragment in Lucian'^ to a Pindaric poem,* and Voss^ has accurately explained " kvwv XeovToSdfiai. " For if both are right, the zodiacal lion must have been known to Pindar, who connected it with Orion in a great chase. • See Voss ad Arat., v. 37. Schaubacb, p. 111. 2 P. A., ii. 6. ' 01. xiii. 88. See Heyne and Bockh. * Sehol. Arat. Phaan., 282. Bockh, Frgm., inc. 110. ^ Herod., ii. 91. * After Solan us and Schneider. ' Pro Imagg., 19. * Dithyr. 11. ^ Ad Arat., 326. 142 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. The Dog of Orion (whose direction must have been then different from what it is now) became a lion- queller, whereas Homer conceived him to be in pur- suit of the Bear. Still I would scarcely be inclined to call this a new mythus, as the whole idea is contained in a single epithet. The fiction of Ariadne's crown being placed among the stars makes its ap- pearance in Pherecydes^ about the same time, and must of course have been suggested by the form of the constellation. To that time, also, may belong the mythic appellation of the milky way, " Phaethon's path," which Aristotle^ derives from the Pythagoreans. But, nevertheless, the tragic writers show very clearly how little the number of constellations had increased which were known among the people, and could therefore be alluded to by the poets. Schaubach,^ indeed, quotes from Euripides several new constella- tions, but scarcely a single one correctly : for the Hare* rests merely on a quite unwarranted alteration of the text by Musgrave. The poet places the seven stars of Pleias near Sirius, because, in the intermediate space, no constellations were yet traced or known. The two Dioscuri in the shining ether,^ are doubtless St Elmo's fire. The author of Rhesus, who has in- troduced the Eagle from Democritus and Euctemon,® betrays a remarkable anxiety to display his learning. So far as I can discover, therefore, the Lesser Bear is the only post-Homeric constellation to be found in Euripides,^ nor, excepting an interpretation of the • Schol. Od. xi. 320. 2 Meteor, i. 8. ' P- 112. * Iphig. Aul. 7. s Iphig. Aul. V. 773; and Electra. 998. « V. 553., .. ' In Piritlioos. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 143 Hyades from the Attic mythology, does he furnish any fables regarding the stars. ^ Now, if it follows from the above that during the whole of this period, neither were astronomical my- thi deserving the name produced, nor did, generally speaking, mythology and astronomy go hand in hand, the latter tendency was so much the more active in the schools of the Alexandrian Grammarians. But in what manner ? Surely not so as that from the form of a constellation, and its relation to others, a mythus was at once produced off-hand ? Certainly not ; for invention was not, on the whole, the busi- ness of that century, but rather learned compilation; and, moreover, these astronomical fables, being purely fictitious, would be destitute of value and significance. A consideration of particular cases shows us suffi- ciently how they went to work. Older poets and mythographers were ransacked for legends in which mention was made of any being or animal such as was already traced on the heavens. How many examples did they find in them for Auriga, Ophi- uchus, Taurus, Delphin, Draco, &c. ! Nor did they entirely neglect various other sources of a less pure and legitimate character. Hyginus, for instance, repeatedly quotes Euhemerus. Popular comic tales, such as that of the Raven,^ and also allegories, that, for example, regarding the Muse's son, Kporos,^ were in like manner employed to explain the con- stellations ; and even Syrian and Egyptian fables were brought within their sphere by these compilers ' Phaethon and Erechtheus, in Theonon Arat., 172. 2 Eratosth., 41. ' Eratosth., 28. 144 ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. and interpreters. All that they contain of original, amounts merely to the following addition, viz. : — " On this occasion, the person or animal was placed among the stars." Here and there a conceit is in- troduced, as when a later poet says, that the Bear never goes down, because Hera, the Ocean-goddess, vowed never to receive her rival Callisto. Some- times, too, a name is altered ; but this, I think, is more likely to have been the result of carelessness and frequent repetition, than of design ; thus, the legend of the Greater is transferred to the Lesser Bear, and the name of the metamorphosed nymph is straightway changed from Callisto to Phcenice.^ Or a turn is even given to some indifferent circum- stance in the original mythus, so as to make room for an astronomical allusion ; thus, Euphorion^ fabled, and perhaps he was the first to do so, that Artemis killed Orion, by means of a Scorpion, with obvious reference to the fact, that Orion goes down when the Scorpion appears in the heavens. Here it is impos- sible not tosee, that we are indebted to the astrono- mical learning of the poet for the addition of the destroying animal. In like manner, there are to be found in this class of fables, various other distinct references and collateral allusions to the rising and setting of stars, which, however, do not necessarily require even a modification of the fable, but could be developed by merely a skilful selection and ar- rangement of mythi, as in the case of the Centaur and the Horse. On the other hand, although I have carefully examined Hyginus, the so-called Eratos- • Eratosth., 2. ^ According to the Scliol. Ven. II. xvlii. 486. ASTRONOMICAL MYTHI. 145 thenes, and the scholia to Germanicus, I, at least, have not discovered a single fable invented for the ex- press purpose of illustrating the form and position of a constellation. Even where a more ancient and di- rect notice was wanting, it seemed to me that I conld, invariably, from the tenor of the narrative itself, detect its derivative character. But this, in- deed, cannot be pointed out in particular cases, without the circumstantial treatment of a mass of local traditions. CHAPTER X. How to separate the Myihus from the Modifications of Poets and Prose -Writers. After these considerations on the Idea and the Sources of the Greek Mythus, as well as the Manner of its Origin and its Age, we shall now try to point out the way in which we may be enabled to decipher it with some degree of certainty. The author will neither conceal from himself nor others, that even after the establishment of many preliminary points, the path is still dubious, every step attended with difBculties ; and if complete and general satisfaction be attainable, it is at best but a distant goal. In that which is to us the source of the mythus, the additions of poets and other authors must be separated from the genuine tradi- tion ; but the mythus is of an essentially changeable L 146 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS and fluctuating character. Even at its birth, it con- tains elements which are to us heterogeneous ; one and the same object, also, is often, from the outset, treated variously in mythi : so that a learned author^ speaks with good reason of " the luxuriant richness and charming variety of the materials," against which the greatest order and regularity, in the treat- ment, must be brought to bear. " But," some one might object, " will the antici- pated profit compensate for all this labour and trouble; and can we find no better employment than the in- terpretation of mythi ?" I think, that the more diflS:- cult the task, (which required, according to Plato,^ even in his day, a man of great zeal and industry, and without any sanguine hope of good fortune,) and the less clear gain it promises, the more ought we to thank those who undertake it : for mythology must, at any rate, be subjected to philosophical treatment; and whoever wishes to obtain a vivid knowledge of Hellenic antiquity, must desire such a treatment. We know, too, that mythi, as the ground-work of poetry and art, were, for centuries, the favourite occupation of the Grecian people; and how were it possible, without a knowledge of these mythi, and their origin, to form an idea of the state of intellectual life at that period ? The internal, as well as the external history of the Greeks, is cut away by the roots, if we reject the mythus as of no avail to the science, or, perhaps, substitute for this only genuine source, mere arbitrary suppositions and chimeras. If any one has, in addition to this, — what is, indeed, of rare oc- ' Welcker, Appendix to Schwenk, p. 338. 2 PhjEd., p. 229. FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 147 currence in our days, — a susceptibility for the mani- fold expression of religious feelings, he will be at- tracted, in a particular manner, by antiquity, and, most of all, by the mythus. Now, what, I would ask, do we chiefly require from history ? To see men act and think just as we act and think, and to regard with self-complacency our own elevation in the scale of improvement ? Turn, then, your attention rather to actual life, and observe what is now going on in cabinets and salons. But history ought to raise us above such narrow views, and teach us to place humanity, in general, above an insulated epoch. We should also learn to understand in its real nature what is at variance with our notions. In my opinion, an acquaintance with antiquity tends to exalt and humanize the mind, for no reason more than this, — that it places before us a novel aspect of humanity, in all the breadth, energy, and completeness of its existence. And does not mythology, of all branches of ancient know- ledge, carry us away furthest from the sphere of the present into laboratories of ideas and forms whose entire plan and construction are still an historical problem ? I daresay that many others, who have earnestly devoted themselves to mythology, and experienced the manifold attractions of this study, will feel in- clined to pronounce on it a still higher eulogium, I must apply myself to the subject which now demands our attention. Our aim is, to obtain a right know- ledge of the mythus; in other words, we wish to learn what internal or external activity, what thoughts or actions, are by means of it conveyed to 148 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS lis. We already know that it usually attained, only by slow degrees, the form in which we have received it ; but, on the other hand, in order to arrive at a complete understanding, we desire to ascertain its first and original form. But how can this be done ? We can begin nowhere, but with the transmitters of mythi, — ^the authors who relate them. The first step in the process must therefore be, to separate what they added, whether it might be poetical embellishment, pragmatic connexion, or philosophical interpretation. Now, what is to be regarded as such can only be determined, with any degree of accuracy, by an acquaintance with the difi'erent authors, and their mode of proceeding, of which the third chapter merely furnished the first outlines. I shall here add a few remarks on the method of hand- ling mythi, observed by poets and historical writers, in general. From Homer^ downwards, i\Ye psychological springs of events were left entirely under the control of the Poets. Tradition was silent as to what Agamemnon and Achilles thought : it was enough that it spoke of the wrath of the princes, and the destruction thereby brought upon the Greeks. Hence, the mo- tives assigned were different in different authors ; and the lyric, as well as the tragic poet, was left entirely to his own discretion. iEschylus, in his Prometheus, took from Hesiod merely the external facts, — the fire-theft, the chaining to the rock, the deliverance by Hercules, &c. For the motives of the actors, and, therefore, the internal import of the action, he drew entirely on his own invention. Accordingly, when 1 Comp. above, p. 24. FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 149 the restoration of Alcestis to life by Hercules is ascribed by Euripides merely to the hero's friendship for Admetus/ we are not to regard this as a tradition. Deeper motives might be known to the legend ; but this did not in the least prevent Euripides, who ex- hibits Hercules in a comic light, from substituting one which better suited his purpose. But with respect to the manner in which the poets are wont to assign motives, it seems to me evident that they have a tendency to represent personal wishes and individual inclinations as the springs of action, even where they could not be so, according to the original meaning of the mythus. One example, among others, is furnished by the Homeric hymn to the Pythian Apollo, which, in my opinion, was composed before the 47th Olympiad, previous to the Pythian Curule Games and the destruction of Cirrha. Apollo is in search of a sanctuary ; and, for no other reason than that he is pleased with the situation, he resolves to build it at the fountain of Tilphossa, near Haliartus and Alalcomense, in Bceotia. The fountain dissuades him, because she fears the fame of the god might eclipse her own, and advises him to go to the glen of Crissa in Parnassus ; for she seems to know that the monster Python has his den there, and hopes that the god may become his victim. Now Apollo kills the dragon and builds his temple ; but he buries under a crag the fountain Tilphossa, whose treachery he had seen through, and rears beside it an altar for himself as Tilphossius. He now considers whence he may bring prophets and sacrificial priests. He descries a ship at sea, filled with Cretans and sailing for Pylus, ' Comp. Dor., vol. i. p. 42E), 150 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS whither they are bound for purposes of traffic. He terrifies them by laying himself on board the ship in the form of a dolphin ; drives her with a south-west wind as far as Crissa ; presents himself to them there in human form ; reveals himself as Apollo the son of Zeus ; commands an altar to be raised to himself, as dolphin-god, on the shore ; and leads his servants to the choral step of the Psean, up to his Parnassian sanctuary, where he consecrates them as his priests. Now, if we search into the circumstances which influenced the formation of this legend, the first we discover is, Cretans in the service of Apollo at Crissa and in the Pythian sanctuary. This fact is amply supported by the agreement of ancient traditions with historical vestiges. Secondly, Apollo was also worshipped at the Tilphossa in Bceotia; and here, also, in the territory of Haliartus and Ocalese, did native tradition speak of Cretan inhabitants.^ There can be no doubt that these strangers are connected with the worship of Apollo in both places, and that it was introduced by them ; but it is no less certain that the sanctuary of the latter settlement was far from attaining the importance of the Pythian temple. A third circumstance is the ancient name of AeXcplvios, which Apollo bore at Crissa. The foundation as- signed for it in the hymn, is of course thoroughly mythical. It might have been related at Delphi, that Apollo in that form had brought thither the Cretan priests ; and the same might, with equal justice, have been given out at any other place where the god was known by that appellation. But if he was also wor- ' Apollod., ii. 4, 11. Plut. Lys., 28. FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 151 shipped as Delphinius at Cnossus/ who can doubt that the name was brought to Delphi from that quarter? The fourth circumstance was of a physical character, viz., The sudden disappearance of the Til- phossa under a rock? Now, from these circumstances, the tradition naturally arose, that Apollo himself, in the form of a dolphin, led his Cretans to Crissa, — ^for they were taught, by the blessing which accompanied them, that they had not come without the god, — and that he had intended to make Tilphossium one of his sanctuaries, perhaps his favourite one, but remained satisfied with erecting an altar there ; for what time and skill effected, became, as usual, the will and act of the deity. The mythus saw the ground of this change in his anger against the fountain, which was manifested plainly enough to the eye of faith in the sudden disappearance of its waters. Thus far, I think, did the legend go. Now, the poet does not, properly speaking, make any alteration in the matter. He only places Apollo's quarrel with the fountain in the fore-ground, and finds, in his personal resentment, the reason why he preferred Pytho. Hence, the Cretans, who were in reality the cause of the whole, naturally came to be regarded as having come there by accident. This single example may lead the curious inquirer to observe how poetical representa- tion, religious tradition, and sacred history, stand related to each other, and how they might all be dis- entangled from one another. The influence of the poets, and of the poets alone, was still more deeply felt in another point. When ' Chishull, Jn«. Aslalt., p. 134. '^ I have remarked, Orch., p. 47, that this is still the case. 152 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS we survey the Grecian mythology, as it is presented to us, for instance, in ApoUodorus, we obserye a cer- tain jiniformity and correspondence in all its parts. Except in the theogonic portion, the same narrow circle of deities everywhere appears, if we disregard occasional isolated and half-obliterated traces ; the gods even act throughout in the same character. The chief individual heroes, such as Hercules, always per- form the same part. The compilers of mythi could not alone produce this uniformity ; but it certainly was not observed to the same extent in the original local traditions. In these a deity did not, by any means, invariably exhibit the same character, when he bore the same name ; and the sister of Apollo, the Arcadian goddess of fountains, and the All-mother of the Ephesians, were totally different beings, although they were all called Artemis. The reconciling of differences might indeed be partly effected by mutual intercourse, and by national sanctuaries of general repute ; but it must have been promoted more espe- cially by poetry, from the time that the latter had become a common possession among the Greeks. The ascendancy which the ideas communicated in poetry obtained over those that prevailed in the le- gends of individual districts, is very remarkable, but not less easily explained, partly by the general diffu- sion, and partly by the great clearness and intelli- gibility of the former. In the old Attic mythi, Athena, who is served by the three Agraulian virgins, figures as a being who presided over agriculture. In Homer she became the goddess of practical wis- dom, as indeed she had been already represented in FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 153 a Hereclea^ of more ancient date, which could scarcely have been the case without some ground being furnished by the mythus. Succeeding poets went still further in the same track, and presup- posed that character of the goddess which was most vividly present to their minds, even in the treat- ment of mythi, where it had been quite differently conceived ; for example, these old Attic mythi them- selves. The Grecian people in general, at least where poetical culture was diflfused, could not well imagine her god-head in a different form from that in which it had been described by Homer ; and the older ideas which deviated from that standard, only left behind them obscure and enigmatical traces of their existence in some ancient names, ceremonies, and dark local traditions. This astonishing influence of poetry led Herodotus to the assertion, (which must, however, from other statements of the same author, be greatly modified,) that Homer and Hesiod had made for the Greeks their theogony, given to the gods their appellations, determined their forms, and assigned to each his office and art. Now, as a mat- ter of course, this predominant tendency of poetry to produce uniformity re-acted on the local traditions themselves ; for, as we have already remarked,^ these were not exempt from the influence of the prevailing culture, poetry to wit. Even with those among whom such legends were indigenous, the Homeric, or the poetic idea in general, crept imperceptibly into the room of those which had been locally trans- mitted, and the mythus assumed to them a perfectly ' Dor., vol. i. p. 543. ^ p. 47. 154 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS new form, although they did not contrihute inten- tionally to the change. To give an example : Arte- mis and Alpheus were a pair, as has been stated above,-^ in the ancient legend of Elis. But the poets, proceeding on the representations of a particular worship, established the idea that she was a coy virgin ; and this idea also obtained currency among the Eleans. Thence it necessarily followed that their mutual love must become one-sided, the passion of Alpheus remain unrequited ; and the legend, as can be shown, was altered accordingly. Here the mythus, modified by the prevailing notion, was a local tradi- tion ; in the case of Callisto,^ it was perhaps nothing more than a poetical fable ; but in the latter, also, it may be perceived that Callisto, after her amour with Jupiter, and the birth of Areas, could no longer be connected with Artemis ; nay, that the chaste goddess, on discovering her guilt, must even have put her to death, or transformed her. So much for the striving after uniformity and internal agreement so prevalent among the poets. It is very easy to discover the rule of method result- ing from this observation. Every scientific process which aims at undoing alterations in any object, must pursue a course directly opposed to that by which such alterations were produced. Applied to the case in hand, if it is in the main certain that local traditions were altered by means of general notions prevailing in poetry, I shall, in treating of them, should any traces of other ideas come into view, most carefully give heed to the latter, and ac- 1 P. 75. 2 p. 15. FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 155 cord them a higher rank than the former, as being older and original : for they certainly could not spring up, after the others had become general and predo- minant. Secondly, With regard to mythi handled by the an- cient Historians, I must begin by contradicting a wide- spread prejudice. Ordinary historians, often otherwise not uncritical inquirers, are quite rejoiced when they find in Herodotus, or even Thucydides, an express notice regarding the destinies of a tribe in the olden time, and enter it, accordingly, in their works as pure fact. If, on the contrary, they meet in Pausanias a mythic intimation on the same subject, they shrug their shoulders at the childish fable, and imagine that no grave author should meddle with it at all. But quite the reverse : the historical statement is then the result ; the legend, although it did not hap- pen to be handed down till afterwards, is commonly the source. Herodotus and his successors possessed, as was remarked above, no peculiar memorials re- garding those early ages. They had none to apply to but such as were mythic, partly derived from tra- dition, and partly from poetical elaboration. Even now a judgment can very often be formed as to the way in which they made use of these. I select an example from the Dorians,^ just because it has of late been senselessly assailed. Herodotus says,^ that " from an early period, the Dorians and lonians were the chief races of the nation, and distinct from each other ; the latter of Pelasgic, the former of Hellenic origin ; the latter an aboriginal, the former a very migratory people : for under Deucalion's sway, they 1 Vol. i.p. 21. 2 1. 56. 156 SEPARATION OF THE MYTHUS dwelt in Phthiotis, and under Dorus, the son of Hellen, in the country skirting Ossa and Olympus, which is called Hestiaeotis." It is perfectly clear that Herodotus employs the genealogy of Hellen, the son of Deucalion, and father of Dorus, Xuthus, and tEoIus, which has been already adduced and unfolded,^ as if it were an historical truth, although it is, at all events, more recent than the Iliad ; and that he tries, at the same time, to establish the posi- tion that the Dorians are pure Hellenes. As Deu- calion, the father of Hellen, dwelt, according to the mythi, in Phthiotis,^ the Dorians must, in his opin- ion, have also come from thence, although this is only stated in the mythi of the primitive Hellenes proper, the Myrmidons ; further, Dorus must have succeeded Hellen in the sovereignty, and as the name of the former was connected in the mythi with Hestiseotis, he must have led the people across from that place to Phthiotis. But the historian could not proceed in a similar manner with Xuthus, be- cause he had, in another way, come to the conviction that the lonians were not Hellenes, but Pelasgi. He, therefore, merely makes this son of Hellen come to the Pelasgi, and makes them adopt a new name, taken from that of Ion, his son, and their general.^ His notion with regard to ^olus seems to have been precisely the same.* Dorus, on the contrary, continues to preside over the real Hellenic race. He is successor in the kingdom, whereas his brothers search elsewhere for dominions to themselves. The modern mythologist must, of course, reject as erro- iP. 119. 2 ApoUod., i. 7. 2. 3 VII. 94. 95 ; viii. 44. ^ VII. 9,5. FROM THE ADDITIONS OF AUTHORS. 157 neous all these deductions of Herodotus. He can avail himself of nothing farther than the elements of the inquiry, that is — when stripped of what does not belong to it — ^the following position, viz., Dorus is said, in ancient tradition, to have dwelt at Hestiaeo- tis, near Olympus and Ossa. This process of selecting what is available to the investigation, is by no means arbitrary. If we penetrate, in this and other ways, into the spirit of their treatment, we shall even be enabled to derive instruction from the pragmatic his- torian and philosophical interpreter; and thus ob- tain compensation for the want of other and better sources of mythi. For both doubtless wished, if they were otherwise honest men, to found their representation and elucidation on the mythi them- selves ; and considered their additions as nothing more than conclusions drawn from the legends which had been handed down. Where Ephorus pragma- tises most, it can be seen, however, that nothing further is his than the concatenation of the mythic traditions, and the mode of understanding them ; as in the story of Apollo's going from Athens to Delphi, and killing Tityus and the tyrant Python, surnamed " the Dragon.""^ All these actions, and even the path of the god, were ancient legends,^ only Ephorus adopts them implicitly, as regular history, and regards what- ever is at variance with them as poetic form. Nothing, however, but the most special investiga- tion can completely unfold the laws that regulate t}i\8 process by which the representation is separated from its materials, and a no less circumstantial his- tory of poetry in general, as well as of such other 1 Strabo, ix. 42. ^ j)or., vol. i. pp. 269, 33,'5. 158 HOW TO RESOLVE works as were in any way employed on mythic sub- jects, would be required. And it still remains to be observed, that the task of criticising sources can never by itself be complete ; that in numberless cases it can merely give a conjectural answer to the ques- tion, whether some particular thing belong to the representation or to the materials ; while much even of that which may be poetical ornament, turns out, on a more careful examination, to be ancient mythus — genuine tradition. The critical tendency, therefore, must be everywhere directly met by another, whose aim it is to conceive and understand the legend in its true import. CHAPTER XI. How to resolve the Mythic Materiak into their Original Elements. We go back to the general law, that in order to reduce the mythus to its original form, we must always subject it to a treatment the converse of that which it received from the ancients. Now, it is a thing quite unquestionable, that during antiquity, the tendency prevailed to unite traditions, for the pur- pose of forming them into connected wholes. We have, therefore, first of all, to dissolve and destroy this connejeion. What a number and variety of legends, far from THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 159 akin to each other at their origin, were embodied by the epic poets in Heracleas, Argonautics, and NoV- Toii ! How prose, as well as poetical writers, strove to introduce order and continuity into the deeds and adventures of heroes, and the logographers to bring the traditions of a district into agreement and mutual dependence ! But if we bear in mind, that previous to that poetry which has been preserved by literary records, there flourished another whose existence can now be ascertained by little else than a process of reasoning, and that the latter aimed still more strenuously at the union and combination of diffe- rent materials, — ^the task we have to perform will be so much the more distinctly appreciated. How important here is this single point, that the muses of Homer and Hesiod receive their name from the same Olympus on which all the superior deities are in these poets said to dwell ; and that these gods, descending from the sacred mount, generally turned their first steps into the immediately-adjacent district of Pieria, the same from which all the poesy of the Greeks emanated !^ I think this fact might instruct us, that we are indebted to the muse-inspired Pierians for the union of the Olympian gods. These Pierians, although called Thracians, and therefore often held to be branches of one and the same nation with all the tribes lying behind them, must necessarily be re- garded as Greeks : for, if they were aliens, such an influence on the entire cultivation of the Grecian people would have been impossible. Afterwards, indeed, having been expelled by the Macedonian ' Orchom., pp. 381, 385. 160 HOW TO EESOLVE kings, and fled for refuge towards mount Pangseum,'^ they became, by degrees, utterly lost among the bar- barian tribes. But it was through their poetic strains, during the era of their intellectual refine- ment, that the Olympian mount became the seat and court of the supreme god, around whom they as- sembled into one great family as many of the other gods as came within the sphere of their knowledge ; not, perhaps, by means of arbitrary fiction and in- vention, which were everywhere foreign to those ages, but by acting on their own notions and belief, and uniting and blending with them materials elsewhere derived ; but which, from the susceptibility of anti- quity for the mythus, must have also been received as truth and reality. But further, not merely poetry, including that an- cient dynasty of bards, but popular tradition itself, always followed the same tendency to join together whatever admitted of union. The ancient Grecian people adopted traditions with the utmost readi- ness, nay, with the most eager and willing faith and confidence, — a circumstance which, taken to- gether with the facility of creating mythi, brings us back to that unconsciousness and absence of design which has been remarked above.^ Neighbouring localities mutually exchanged their mythi ; new settlers engrafted the traditions of their own tribe on those which already existed in the country ; rumours from a-far were received into the long-established legendary circle. All this could not be otherwise ; and numberless examples teach us that it was so.* ' Herod., vii. 112. Thuc, ii. 99. ^ P. 52. ' Comp. Canne's valuable remarks in liis Mythology of the Greeks, Intro., p. 41-46. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 161 Stories had doubtless been current in many cities and regions of Greece about the advent of Bacchus, and the tumult and intoxication with which the god had filled the minds of men, before these traditions were united into a whole, or the story of his expedi- tion was devised, which was gradually made to ad- vance eastwards until at length it extended to India. Separation, therefore, is one main business of the mythologist ; by means of which we continually dis- cover how easily materials, of originally the most different kinds, when once they became reconciled and modified by the mythic form, could be brought into conjunction, and regarded as a whole. This is more especially the case in genealogies, which we can seldom follow for any length without being led into widely different spheres of the Real and the Imaginary. And here, too, we must guard against the error, by no means rare in its occurrence, of as-; suming the highest links in such a genealogy to be invariably the oldest portions of the mythus, as if it were always formed from above downwards. These highest links are often precisely those which were added last, after every place had been filled up with names, among the families to which the mythus pro- perly belonged.^ Let us examine, for example, the. Elean genealogy, as it is given by Pausanias, Apol- lodorus, and Conon.^ Aethlius the son of Zeus and Protogenia, the daughter of Deucalion, is said to have been the first who reigned at Elis. His son, who was beloved of Selene, and to whom she bore fifty daughters, was called Endymion. He had three ' Comp. Welcker's Note on Schwenk, p. 328. 2 Paus., V. 1, 2. Apoll., i. 7. 5. Con., 14. M 162 HOW TO RESOLVE sons, Epens, Pseon, and ^Etolus, the first of whom obtained the kingdom, because he had been victorious at the Olympic games Paeon, filled with chagrin at this, retired to the river Axius, in the direction of the later Macedonia. ^Etolus was also obliged to become a wanderer, because he slew Apis, and was pursued by the sons of the latter- Now, when Epeus died childless, he was succeeded by Eleus, son of Eurycyde, the daughter of Endymioiv and fatiber of Augeas, whd had the treasury and the great herds of cattle. Of all the persons here named, the first is the most allegorical, although he had even been already mentioned by Hesiod :^ for it is evident that Aethlius the son of Zeus is nothing else than a per- sonification of the Atof aeOXa, the games of Olym- pian Zeus,^ which, however, were nat of much weight or importance until . revived by Iphitus, although even the Iliad contains some indication of their com- mencement.^ Aethlius is called the son of Proto- genia,— the new-born race of mankind after Deu-> calion's flood, (subsequent to wbich Aethlius is said to have restored the games.)* From this Protor genia, the Locrians and Epeans, botb Lelegic races, traced their descent.® On the contrary, the im- mortal Endymion, (accprding to Hesiod *v avrSTc^i^tas ^avdrov,) the. lover of Selen^,. who had a secret sanc- tuary on Latmos,® the Carian mount, manifestly be- longs to an early, and therefore very obscure worship, which I claim for the ancient Leleges ; for Pedasa, ' Schol. ApoL, iv. 57. ^ Bookh, Explie. Find., O. iii. p. 138. 3 XI. 699. * Etymol. M. adX^eau « Bockh, O. ix. p. 1 91. « Paus., v. 1, 4. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 163 and a iximber of other places encompassing Latmos, were, at a remote period, habitations of that people.^ The ancient Epei, also, as has just been remarked, were Leleges; and among them, indeed,, by the addi- tion and preponderance of the pi'evailing worships of the Greeks^ Endyraidh must have lost Moek of his ancient dignity^ ahd descended from his godwhead to the rank of a hero. At Elis, he was said to have had Jfifty children by Selene ; doubtless, as Bockh remarks,^ the - fifty liitiar months of which the Olym- pic cycle consisted. The two sons of Endymion, Epeus and. JBtolus,; exptes^ the atwsient affinity of the two races, which is frequently mentioned in mythi: bnt, as the Eleans viewed^AexV land as the coiftmon home of both, the iEtolian. must have fled from then«e, in order that he might, when he affcerr wards! returned with the Dorian expedition^ resume the possession of his patrimonial inheritance^, Thfe reason assigned, was his flight from the avenger of blood,-^an event which constantly recurs in epifi mythology. But the person slain is no oth^ than the Peloponnesus personifled, Apis, whose father was said by the . Argives to have been Phoronens, the flist mari,^ biitj-by the Arcadiana^their ancient daemon, lasion.* It would be terdious to inqjuire (and ber sides, ii is not here necessary) h^w the Pseonians could be esteemed a kindiJed race to the above two. If we cast a Retrospective glance on the analysis just given, we shall perceive that three very different things are tmited in tbiff genealogy, viz. : — aii almost ' Straboyxiii. 611. * lb., p. 138. ^ See above, p. 4. * Paus., i. 2, 6. Comp. Dion. Hal., i. 61. 164 HOW TO RESOLVE allegorical personage, deities from the general creed, and personified tribes. To these are also added the mythus of Augeas. He was brought into connexion with the rest for this reason merely, that in place of "HXios, the sun-god, whom the poets, in accordance with ancient tradition, called the father of the hero, historical adapters substituted a 'HXetos; but'HXtj, the country itself, or even 'HXetos, was the name given by the genealogical legend to the son of Eurycyde ; and in this way vvas Augeas linked to that gene- alogy.^ " But," it will be said, " what can be the result of all this procedure ? The living concrete mythus is by this means resolved into its primary elements, as an organized body is decomposed into atoms ; but, instead of discovering and exhibiting coherence, as every scientific inquiry ought to do, you come back to numberless unconnected and insulated incipient points. This may well be called an atomical process, for it destroys the life of the mythus." To this ob- jection, something like the following replies might be given. First. Even that connexion which only arose by degrees, ought not to be rejected, in the historical treatment of the mythus, as a thing of no significance and perfectly indifferent to the science. The more mythology is cultivated, the smaller must the tradi- tionary matter become which cannot, in it even, be rendered fruitful and instructive by proper applicar tion. The manner in which mythi were modified, ' ETPXKTAHinPaus. Comp.Stra.,viii.346°; and ErPTHTAH in the Schol. Ven. II. 1, 367, the Etymol. M. 426, 29, and Conon »J. is a very old reading. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 165 strung together, and constantly combined into new wholes, by authors and even by popular tradition, is as much entitled to demand our attention as their first beginnings and the causes of their origin. Nay, in these very changes and modifications, which mythi experienced at various times, there are to be found most copious materials for the history of the religious and intellectual cultivation of the Greeks. Secondly. But it is the beginnings into which it is here our especial business to inquire ; and the know- ledge of which can alone give a correct solution as to the manner of that gradual transformation. They cannot possibly have stood in the connexion which was unfolded by degrees, and must be extricated from it as far as is practicable. But this is by no means Baying that a connexion may not result, even for them, at the close of the investigation ; and perhaps one more simple and beautiful may be found in them than that which arose by progressive development. Thirdly. But this analytical process should not on any account be so regarded, as if the great object were to resolve the mythus into its smallest possible constituent parts. An arbitrary separation of this nature, pursued to its utmost extent, would even dissever those elements which were united from the very first. It is plain that the resolution of the mythus cannot well take place unless assisted by a right understanding of it, and unless three points are determined in order to its complete interpretation, viz., Where did this or that particular mythus arise ? By means of what persons ? and, In relation to what subject was it formed? With regard to the first point, it is evident that 166 HOW TO RESOLVE every mythus must have originated in some plaoe or other. Even though soon after its appearance it obtained general belief and became widely diffused, it must have been uttered somewhere for the first time. The ascertainment of this pkere, the localiza^ tion of the mythus, is of course an essential matter in the business of separating those elements which originally belonged to each other, from those which became afterwards united. In most cases it is not difficult, as the mythus itself furnishes an answer to our inquiries. We have only to ask. Whom does it more immediately concern ? Those who dwell in any region speak of their ancient native heroes. The founders of any place are, as such, celebrated in the legends of that place. Hills, and streams, and foun^ tains, become mythic personages to those who dwell beside them, and feel the peculiar influences of these objects. In this way, the home of nine-tenths of the Grecian traditions may be gathered from themselves ; but we must not take everi/ notice of a country in any mythus for a proof that the legend was formed there. These countries, too, are often purely ideal ; for as the ancient Greeks invented a history of the world which reached back to the first beginning of things, — rso they also devised a geography, in which ideas and notions that had nothing corresponding to them in actual experience, found a definite place.* Many of these ideas were gradually connected with real objects,— imaginary races of men with existing nations, as appears to have been the case with the .Ethiopians, who long figured in poetry as neigh- bours of the sun, before the Greeks became historic ' Comp. Vblcker's Myth, of the Japet., p. 58. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 167 cally acquainted with black men. Now, it would be quite absurd to regard the mythus of suoh a people as belonging to themselves, and in this sense to speak of a Hyperborean mythus. The fundamental idea of this mythus is that of a pure and sacred people devoted to the service of Apollo, and living in the farthest north, but yet under a mild and serene sky; for the north wind only begins on this side of them, rushing fdrth from dark mountain caverns nearer the south : it could not, therefore, have arisen from a knowledge, however slight, of the earth's surface.^ It is a mere idea. It had its local habitation, this much we can discover, at several ApoUinian sanctuaries: at Delphi, whither the god was said to have come from the Hyperboreans ; at Delos, where there were many things told of gifts from that people ; at Olympia, where the worship of Apollo was also established : and from these circum- stances alone it is evident that it sprang from this worship, and must find its explanation in the history and spiritual constitution thereof. The decision ife more difficult when the foreign and distant lands, which are spoken of in the mythus, really existed, and were known to the Greeks at the time of its development, although they might be matgriaUy dis- guised in the tradition. For in this case two things might happen. First, An Hellenic legend may, by the gradual enlargement of its circle, have been brought into relation to a certain country, or trans^ ferred to it, as was done, I think, with the ArgonaUtie expedition to Colchis, and the abode of the Gorgons in Libya-^legends which were far from being native ptoducts on the baiiks of the Phasis or at Mount ' Dorj^ tol. i. p. 294. 168 HOW TO RESOLVE Atlas. The mythus may also have had its first foun- dation in an acquaintance with the distant country, whether it was that accounts of its features, its in- habitants, and its gods, assumed the mythic form, or that mythi, already in existence there, came to the ears of the Greeks, and were received into their legendary sphere. Even both — ^the reference of a Grecian legend to a foreign country, and the adoption of a foreign legend — may be imagined in combination; in such a way, namely, as that the expansion of a Greek mythus was met by a native barbarian legend. The expedition of Dionysus, for instance, had its extreme limit fixed in India, merely for this reason, that the army of Alexander found there a god called Mahadewa, who was worshipped with similar orgies. Now, it cannot in general be determined beforehand which supposition is the correct one in a particular case. It is necessary to inquire, on the one hand, what portion of the mythus actually existed in the barbarian country — belonged to the tradition of the natives ; and on the other, whether the roots of the mythus are not to be found somewhere in Greece itself. Much error may be occasioned by the extraor- dinary expression, " earliest mythology without lo- cality," which prevails in a mythological work now little heard of, and by which the theogonic and cosmogonic legends were intended to be more espe- cially denoted. First, there is, properly speaking, no mythus without a locality : for it must surely have had its origin somewhere, although its contents themselves seldom betray it. But much of it, as can be shown, was local tradition, especially at ancient THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 169 sanctuaries. Other portions were composed and added by the most ancient, particularly the Pierian, bards.^ But it is on no account to be conceded, that these mythi can be called the oldest in any other sense than this, that they treat of the earliest ages ; at least, the circumstance of their now standing at the head of the system does not afford the slightest proof of their superior antiquity; and the ancient native legends of Argos, Athens, and Boeotia, from the fact of their signification being so obscure, and their contents so various, ought in general to have the preference accorded, in conformity with the prin- ciple laid down above.^ So much with regard to the Where. If this is clearly brought out in one case, we may proceed to the next question which reqiiires decision : By Whom was the mythus originally formed ? It was not always by the historically-known inhabitants of a district, but frequently by an earlier population who were expelled by succeeding tribes, yet not so entirely but that some scattered remnants were left, by means of which the mythus continued to exist. How many Boeotian mythi belong to the ancient Thracians, Cadmeans, and Minyana ! how many Attic traditions to the ante-Ionic Pelasgians! and are not most of the Peloponnesian legends ante-Doric, and almost all those of Thessaly derived from other races than the Thessalians, who migrated thither from Thesprotia? A separation may be often effected, as in Athens for example, the ancient traditions of the Erechthidae can be distinguished from those of the lonians.* ' See the Appendix on Hesiod. ^ P. 60. ' Comp. MinervcB Poliad., c. 1. Dor., vol. i. p. 265. 170 HOW TO RESOLVE But this must not be supposed to be a simple and easy matter. As tradition is a thing that lives, and receives growth, development, and renovation, in the mouths of those by whom it is handed down, the legends and ideas of the new inhabitants must have been united with those of the earlier race, and the latter variously altered and remodelled to suit the character of the former. It may, therefore, be sup- posed, that the original spirit and tone of the more ancient legends will be only preserved in isolated traces. The more strange and enigmatical these appear, the more anxiously should we turn them to account. Many legends, too, seem to have been formed and propagated merely by individual families, whose history is naturally more obscure and per- plexed than that of entire races; and yet upon it everything here depends. How much, for example, was introduced into the Spartan mythology by the family of the .^gidse -^ and but for the Euphemidae, the royal family of Cyrene, the Argonauts in all pro- bability would never have sailed round Libya. For it was merely in the circumstance, that their ancestor Euphemus must needs take possession of Cyrene,* that the constraining cause resided why the Argo should be transported over the back of Libya. We come to the third point, which must be attended to in order to separate what was originally connected from what became gradually united ; although it does not, indeed, come under consideration in such a general way as the two we have already discussed. But it can be asserted with confidence, of a great ' Comp. Oroh., p. 327. Dor., vol. i. p. 373. ' See above, p. 83. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 171 number of legends, that ttey refer to a definite ex- isting object, and were formed expressly for it. One mythus relates to some old usage, another to an an- cient regulation of public life, a third to the festival of a god, and its usual attendant' representations. They all aim at accounting for the origin of these things still existing. The mythology of the Greeks everywhere exhibits traces of this strimng at ea?plan->^ ation. This itself must have given birth to n^ythi ; for it was the spirit of the age to clothe even opinions in the form of a narrative of actual occurrences: and hence it is that those who cannot distinguish between mythi and history must frequently regard a custom or usage as a consequence of some mythic event, although the latter in fact sprang from the former.^ But it is to be understood that the correctness of such mythic explanations must be tested, and is not on any account to be pre-supposed. It can be often distinctly seen that they are based upon no real tra- dition whatever; nay, many mythi contain notions which could not have arisen and prevailed until the subjects to which they relate were no longer under- stood in their true import. To this class belong, in particular, the false etymologies which abound in mythi ; for the Greeks as well as the Hebrews applied themselves, at a very early period, to the derivation of words in their own language ; but as they wanted other tongues with which to compare their own, as well as the capacity for philosophical reflection, and altogether did not possess the faculty of entering into circumstances which were either foreign to them or had become so, their attempts were but • Oomp. Canne's Myth. Intro., p. 46 sqq. 172 HOW TO RESOLVE seldom successful. Thus, every one now will, we think, admit that the derivations commonly received among the ancients of TIvOiov from " corruption," and ^AwaTovpia from "deceit," are erroneous; although there is interwoven with the latter a genuine tradi- tion regarding a houndary war between the Athenians and Boeotians, which could not have originated in the verbal explanation. . As in this example, so it is throughout an essential point — not merely in etymo- logical, but in explanatory legends altogether — to separate, as far as possible, what was introduced for the purpose of explanation, from those portions which are of traditionary origin. In general it will be found that the derivation of the name is only en- grafted on an earlier mythus. The mythic event hovered before the mind of him who reflected on the name, or even carried on merely a significant play with the sound ; and the sound itself forthwith re- ceived a place in the mythus. The name of the Ionic city Teos has been derived in a childish manner from the adverb reeoj ^ " so long,"^ and a history of the founder Athamas connected therewith. But this history assuredly cannot have been invented for the sake of that etymology; for Teos was certainly peopled by Minyans, and Athamas was one of the heroes of that tribe.^ The name of the Cilician city. Tarsus has, among others, been referred to the sole of Perseus' foot, {rapirog,) from which the talaria are said to have here fallen.* This is surely absurd ; for no one will call a city " sole of the foot" because something was there lost from it by some one : and ' Pherecyd., 40. p. 160 St. ^ Ordi., 399. ' Schol. Juvenal., iii. 117. Comp. Steph. B. Tdgeog. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 173 it might be Bupposed that Perseus was called the founder of Tarsus merely to suit this etymological conceit.^ This, however, was certainly not the case ; on the contrary, aU the ancient Argive fables relating to Perseus, as well as to the wanderings of lo ; and even the worship of the former were naturalized at Tarsus.* The Argive Hercules, too, was honoured there, as Archegus, with the burning of a funeral pile ;' and there can be no doubt that all these le- gends were brought to Cilicia by an Argive colony, established through the agency of the Rhodians.* It is obvious that here the etymology was merely en- grafted on the already existing fable, and may be as new and late of invention as the latter was old and genuine ; a remark which also applies to the etymo- logical fables of Mycense.^ ,In all such cases it is necessary to inquire how far the influence of the etymology extends — what is fabled for its sake, and what is independent of it. What depends entirely on the derivation must of course stand or fall with it. From all this it is obvious how much stress ought, in resolving the mythus into its original elements, to be laid on the determination of this point, viz., in refer- ence to what was each formed ? Now, if we follow the chain of a mythus, in many cases we shall soon observe that — here it carries us away to another dis- trict,-^that this narration must have originated with other races and families, — ^that now it relates to other really existing objects ; and we shall have no hesita- 1 Lucan, PharsaL, iii. 225. Solin., 38. Ammian. M., xiv. 8. Raoul-Eoch., Hist, de I'Hahl., vol. ii. p. 125. * See, particularly, Dio. Chrysost., Or. 33. Comp.Eckhel, Num. Anecd., p. 80. Vdlcker, Myth, of the Japet., p. 210. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 129K. * Dor., vol. i. p. 130. 174 HOW TO RESOLVE tation in keeping separate those things to which different occasions gave rise, proviiied further inves* ligation d&es not indicate a higher unity. But in considering the third point, ouir attention has been also called to the importance of becoming acquainted with those existing objects,. not mythic in their nattire, with which the my thus is connected. These were doubtless va^iotts and manifold ; but it was the religions woirship' 4>f ihe Greeks which be- camej abdte all otherSj the fevourite theme of my- thol(^y. The gefvice of the gods was, in trofh^ a matter of real and substantial existence ; the reli- gious observances of the Greeks, their sacred places, their priestho&ds, their festivals, are known to us from contemporary notices and descriptions; we have, comparatively speaking, a very comprehensive and complete knowledge of their state at that time^ if not of their origin ; and it is obvious that this know- ledge must, in a thousand places, render assistance to mythological investigation, and direct it into the right channel. Add to' this, that these very refer- ences to the service of the geds,^ as has been shown above by various examplesi^ become extremely faint in the narrations of the poets ; for they repeated tbe inythuS as a pleasant and ingenioBs story, without giving themselves any concern about its strictly radical ingrfedientsi When we read now* for in" staflce, in ApoUodorus, that Athamas had two wives, the second of w'hom plotted the destruction of the other's children ; and that when the Delphian god was consulted on account of a famine, which she herself had caused by parching the seed-corn, she 'Pp. 14 Bq., 49, r4sq., 78. THE MYTHIC MATERIALS. 175 obtained, by artifice, the oracular response, that one of them must be offered up as a sacrifice, from which fate, however, they escaped in a miraculous manner ; everything seems to be accounted for and linked together with sufficient probability for a tale of romance, in which it is not requisite that events should take place in the natural course, and the reader desires nothing further. But as to the subject or Whereof? which likewise involves the Wherefore ? of the formation of the mythus, scarcely a single vestige has been left him in its poetical elaboration. This at once becomes evident when he learns that there was an ancient worship of Zeus in the l^nd of the Minyans, which required human sacrifices, and that, too, from none other than the 'sacerdotal race of Athattias ; and when he has taken into considera- tion the great variety of legends which turn upott this sacrificial observancCj he will also perceive that the whole mythus sprang from the worshipj and not the worship from the mythus.^ From all this, it seems to me there can Scarcely be any doubt, that the history qf the worships of the Qrecicm gods is the auxiliary science of most importance to mythology, and cannot well be disjoined from it, in treating of the latter, although it is itself only partially rooted in mythic soil. It must, therefore, form part of our task to exhibit a distinct view of that subject also, without, however, bestowing an equally minute at- tention on every point ; becausej after all, the history of the religion is merely subsidiary. I have only to remark, that the correctness of the mythological method hitherto developed, stands quite independent ' Orch., p. lei sqq. 176 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS of the correctness of the views to be here laid down at the outset, inasmuch as the niythus generally pre- supposes the existence of a belief in the gods, and its interpretation is but little affected by the question how this belief originally came into existence. CHAPTER XII. AuxiUa/ry and Adminicular Propositions on the Beligion and Bymholism of the Greeks. 1. I consider it impossible that that all-compre- hending and pervading belief in the divine Essence, which we find in the earliest times among the Greeks, as well as other nations, can be deduced, in a con- vincing manner, from sensible impressions, and con- clusions built thereon ; and I am of opinion, that the historian must here rest satisfied with pre-supposing that the assumption of a hyperphysical living world and nature, which lay at the bottom of every pheno- menon, was natural and necessary to the mind of man, richly endowed by nature. ' 2. In ancient times this belief was a living prin- ciple, which existed in constant mutual relationship with the other activities of the human mind, and hence it became as personal and individual as those by whom it was cherished. Its particular form, therefore, has its foundation in the particular nature and circumstances of individual nations and tribes. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 177 3. To suppose an original communication of the first rudiments of faith is inadmissible, for this reason, — that without faith, even a susceptibility for it cannot be imagined, especially at a time when the Spiritual was only made manifest by sensible images ; and because, moreover, we have no ground whatever for assuming, that belief in the gods was only the growth of some one particular spot. Besides, it must be taken into account, that cultivation in early antiquity was generally much more confined within the boundaries of a nation, or even smaller communities, than it was in later times. 4. To explain, therefore, why a particular form of belief is found among a people of peculiar civilisa- tion is, in fact, nothing else than to show upon what foundation the entire spiritual constitution of that people rests. For, were any one to think of deducing that form merely from the conditions and influences of external nature, he would assume the human mind to be, what it certainly is not, something quite in- determinate in itself, and merely passive. But how it was that determination and direction were at first imparted to the minds of nations, is a problem which, if it come at all within the province of philosophical history, does not certainly belong to any individual branch of it. It must be the inquirer's chief busi- ness, in the first place, to make himself acquainted with individual modes of faith and worship, in their precise nature, theitr peculiar and internal essence. 5. Now, we find a greater number of such peculiar modes in ancient Greece than in any other country. We find there a greater variety than anywhere else, N 178 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS not merely of the external forms of worship, but also of the thoughts and feelings, — or whatsoever name we choose to give to the emotions excited by a particular faith, — which find utterance in those forms, and in the legends of the gods. If we call to mind the riotous delight and soul-intoxicating revelry which marked the worship of Bacchus, the deep melancholy and sombre awe by which that of Deme- ter was characterized, and the serene, joyful, and energetic feelings to which the service of ApoUo gave birth, we shall have but a few of the most in- teresting contrasts presented to our view. 6. All these different modes of worship were, in later times, in some measure united, and that, too, not merely in the treatment of poets and artists, but also in the religious belief, and the service of the temples throughout the diflferent cities of Greece; and there was, perhaps, no state of any consequence which did not worship all the chief deities, although many of them, doubtless, received but scanty honours. 7. It cannot be conceived that these kinds of wor- ship, differing so widely in their essence and char- acter, should have simultaneously arisen among the same tribes, for this reason, that it would require different individualities to produce them. It might indeed be said that they sprang from the same minds in different moods, as they certainly continued to give birth to different moods in the same minds. But sometimes the relation in which they actually stand is that of resistance, exclusion, nay, almost hosti- lity towards each other, which must have been the case to a still greater extent in earlier times, when they operated much more powerfully upon the mind. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 179 8. Neither can we well suppose the Grecian worships to have belonged, as those of India appear to have done, to different periods of religious civilisation, for we very rarely observe a transition from one to another, or a change of one into another ; on the contrary, they are all seen to continue in simultaneous exis- tence. Altogether, there cannot, perhaps, be found a single authenticated instance of any considerable worship having disappeared in the palmy days of heathendom, before the races and families by which it was observed had died out. 9. This great diversity in the Grecian worships agrees, on the other hand, in a remarkable manner, with another fact equally undeniable, viz., the early partition and subdivision of the nation into countless individual tribes, which circumstance, again, doubtless bore some relation to the physical condition of the country. If, with this, we also connect the numerous migrations and expeditions of these tribes, and their promiscuous habitation of one and the same country with other, though kindred nations, Thracians, Ca- rians, and Phrygians, we shall find sufficient grounds for the co-existence of so many different kinds of worship, particularly if we contrast the people of Israel with the Greeks, as an instance of opposite circumstances producing an opposite result. The religion of that nation was, indeed, more simple and systematic ; but it was only through their separation from, and exclusion of, all foreign nations, that it continued to exist for thousands of years. 10. If a general view of the subject shows this result, the proofs are supplied by every separate in- vestigation into the history of the religious worship 180 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS of the Greeks. Every deity had his favourite dis- tricts, in which he was even usually said to have been born ; the ancient legends peculiar to such a region, spoke of him in an especial manner. With respect to other deities, particularly Dionysus, it was stated that they made their appearance and penetrated into the country at some specified time ; and if we collect all the intimations and allusions by which one sanctuary revealed its descent from another, we shall discover, however faint and obscure the my- thic traces may be, that, for example, the service of Apollo was invariably derived from the north of Thessaly, the 'Op'yia of Dionysus from Boeotian Thrace, all the sanctuaries of Hera from Argos, and the worship of Poseidon probably altogether from the shores of the Saronic and Corinthian gulfs. We must not, however, in every instance, presuppose, nor indulge confident hopes of discovering, such a local unity of origin ; as the name of the deity may be very general in its significance, or heterogeneous elements may be comprehended in it from its origin. A judgment in single cases must he grounded on evi- dence alone. 11. It is manifest from all this, that the Homeric Olympus, and the artistic world of gods, in which every tendency of the human mind, every activity and every talent, found its ideal representation, was not the original form of Grecian worship, but was created by a gradual process of union ; for, in the first place, every city gathered into a cycle the gods whom the tribes inhabiting it had introduced. Thus Amphiotyon, who united the inhabitants of Attica into one people, is said to have also invited the gods ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 181 to be his guests ;* secondly, the Greek nations, from a natural desire to conciliate the favour of gods else- where adored, and therefore, of course, believed in, reared temples to them also : a disposition and prac- tice which were much encouraged by the national sanctuaries, such as Delphi ; and, lastly, the poets, especially those ancient bards of Pieria,^ always brought into more perfect harmony the occasional stray or struggling members of the divine confedera- tion, and defined and established the poetical charac- ters of individuals, according to the requirements of the whole, as well as in conformity with the ancient local creed. 12, But we must not, on any account, imagine that this Homeric cycle of gods contained a complete union of all the accredited deities : for the ancient bard, doubtless, took his stand at some particular spot in Greece, and assembled what appeared to pos- sess weight or significance, as seen from that point of view. Had the Arcadians arranged this group of divinities, we should scarcely have found Artemis represented to be the sister of Apollo ; ^ we should rather have found a Despoena; and probably the Phigalian Eurynome, as well as the Phliasian Gany- mede, would also have found a place. 13. When we take this, and several other circum- stances into consideration, the multiplicity and diver- sity of the Grecian local worships continue visibly to increase. I have already hinted,* that the same name, in the regular system of Greek divinities, fre- quently denotes several kinds of worship widely dif- 1 Min. Pol., p. 1. 2 See p. 159. 3 Comp. Dor., vol. i. p. 390. * § 10. 182 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS ferent in their nature ; and it is easy to perceive that the Zeus, who was worshipped in Crete with a sub- dued orgiasm and mystic ceremonies, was originally different from the Zeus of the Homeric Hellenians and Achaians ; and wherefore ought not ideas of even the most diversified character to be comprehended in a name of so general a signification as Zeis, Aew, deus f ^ Other gods were gradually thrust down into the sphere of subordinate daemons or heroes ; often merely in general mythology, but often also in local tradi- tions. Thus Pausanias heard in Argolis, that Pho- roneus the Argive had a son and daughter called Clymenus and Chthonia, and that the latter built a temple to the goddess Demeter at Hermione •,^ but here it is perfectly established, even by inscriptions,^ that Chthonia was Demeter herself, and Clymenus Hades. The latter name, indeed, is frequently to be met with standing in the same relation. Pherecydes, for instance, calls a daughter of Minyas, Persephone,* whilst the Minyades are elsewhere almost always called Clymene, Eteoclymene, and Periclymene. 14. This multiplicity and diversity, however, are perfectly compatible with a certain original simpli- city of local worship. For the more we return to the earliest and oldest ideas, the more do we find that every worship, which has a history of its own, originally expressed the religious feeling with a cer- tain degree of generality, and was, in many respects, sufficient for the tribe by which it was practised. But the particular character and individual occupa- tion of the tribe, speedily gave it a peculiar direction, ' Dor., vol. ii. p. 405. ^ Paus., ii. p. 35, 3. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 414. * P. 119, St. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 183 in which it came at length into poetry, after having undergone numerous modifications. The worship, therefore, was not based on physical or ethical dog- mas, or on insulated philosophemes on the world and deity, but rather on that general feeling of the Divine. The powers of nature were not exalted to Oeol, but the Beol of the established faith were revealed alive in nature ; neither, perhaps, were individual talents and dexterities deified ; but the already existing gods, active themselves, presided with protecting care over the activities of their worshippers. We cannot here enter into any further investigation ; but this view is supported even by their names, which are chiefly of the most general signification. Beside the Argive Zeus was placed "Hpa, probably the ancient feminine of "ipws, a hera, or heroine. Aecnroiva, " sovereign lady," was the title given by the Arcadian to his goddess of Lycosura, who was worshipped with re- verential awe. " The Athenian virgin" (IlaXXay "AOrivaiij) was the entire name of Athena, just as Per- sephone was called the Eleusinian virgin, (Kopa.) To these, predicates perhaps were next linked, expres- sive of the people's love, and the pride they felt in their deity. Ancient Greece, indeed, was exceed- ingly rich in appellations of endearment to its Ma- donnas. Thus, the bride that the Naxian worship assigned to Dionysus, was simply called 'ApiaSvn " the well-pleasing;" the Arcadian called his ancient tute- lar goddess KaXX/o-ra, " the most beautiful ;" the Phliasian had his VawfitiSti, "the heart-gladdening;" and the Cretan his Bpirofiapris, or " sweet maiden," &c. ^ Or the deity even received his name from the ' Comp. Welcker on Schwenk, p. 343. 18* AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS character of his worship ; as the god of Nysa was called Bacchus, from the festal frenzy of the Bacchi, and the Eleusinian lacchus, otherwise unnamed, was so denominated from the shouts which resounded at his sacred procession. 15. But it does not by any means follow, from these remarks, that there was a monotheism, pro- perly speaking, in the ancient worship of Greece. Indeed, with the notions regarding the external world which lay at the foundation of that worship, monotheism would be scarcely possible ; as it always presupposes a certain abstraction, a removal and withdrawal of the religious feelings from nature. The ancient Greeks, who saw traces of deity through- out aU forms of life in the risible world, as well as in every significant manifestation of the Spiritual, and constantly observed a meeting of different principles — sometimes conflicting, sometimes in harmony — could scarcely, from feeling and experience, avoid the as- sumption that there was a plurality of those prin- -ciples; although, on the other hand, from the natu- ral tendency of every faith, they always strove after concentration and reduction to unity. 16. In fact, such a unity was a constant aim with Grecian antiquity. In those worships, which at length grew together into a general creed, the re- spective deities stood in relation to each other as the members of a body. They formed a whole. The discord between individual members, as in the case of Demeter and Hades, existed only for the purpose of leading to a higher unity. A council of gods after- wards sprang up in popular belief, under a supreme head, who was exalted to real divinity when he ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 185 became identified with universal fate. And to the religious feeling, the Aal/xwv was still left as the unpersonified deity, which lay at the bottom of all personifications. 17. A living and natural faith is, perhaps, from its inherent character, constantly drawn in opposite directions. To the believing mind of early antiquity, deity appeared, on the one hand, so near, so friendly! it sat with the votary at table, attended him in his toils and pleasures, and conversed with him as man speaks to man. But this idea, which prevails in every mythology, must soon have destroyed all reli- gion, if it were not counteracted by another, which kept before the mind of man the infinite difference between his own and that divine nature which he ac- knowledged and believed in, inspiring him with dark reverence, and a mystical feeling, to express which he was led to choose whatever was most obscure and incomprehensible in himself, as well as the world around him. It is certain, that if most of the Ho- meric gods received their form in consequence of the one tendency, the other prevailed among the Greeks in the service of Demeter and Dionysus. In a similar way, and somewhat connected therewith, the ten- dency to individualize, and the endeavour to compre- hend the universality of deity, stand at antagonism with each other ; and if, by means of the former, the ancient gods of tribes and districts were almost brought down to the level of humanity, so the Divine and Imperishable was vindicated by identification with Destiny. ^ 18. The peculiar effect which these opposite ten- ' Comp. the Mythological Essay in Solger's posthumous works. 186 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS dencies must have produced in the miud of the Greek, is perhaps seen most clearly in Homer's representa- tion of Zeus. The poet has evidently a tvpofold man- ner of conceiving this supreme deity. For, on the one hand, the god who gathers the clouds together, who sends lightning and rain, is at the same time the great governor of the world : in the proper sense of the word, God. He is the greatest that dwells in ^ther, the father of gods and men : he imposes des- tiny ; his will is fate. All things take place in order that this will may be accomplished.^ It is the same deity who, according to the transcendantly beautiful and sublime fable in the Theogony,^ espoused Themis, the moral und physical government of the world, and by her begot the Destinies. Eurynome, likewise, bore to him the Charites, who lend a grace and charm to every form of life. He who does not here recog- nise religion, genuine, true religion, for him have Moses and the prophets written in vain. But these are only isolated expressions, in which an intense feeling or a customary mode of thinking finds utter- ance, as in the prayer beginning " O Zeus, highest and greatest in the dark clouds and in ^ther ! " It is by- no means the manner of viewing him which predominates in and peculiarly distinguishes the Homeric poesy. In fact, it could not be so ; for such a Zeus, when he interfered in the confusion of human aflfairs, must have at once solved and settled everything, and, therefore, could not be imagined as a living and active god, and least of all as an epic ' See Od., iv. 207; v. 137; ix. 52; xl, 559, &c. 2 V. 901 sqq. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 187 personage. As such, then, he does not inhabit ^ther, but has his palace on Olympus. He is not the father of gods and men, but of a not very widely extended family, to which, as Poseidon maintains,^ his proper sway is restricted. Besides, he is, like all the other gods, subject to fate ; and hence resulted that extraor- dinary mixture of strength and weakness, wisdom and ignorance, which must strike every one in the Home- tie Zeus, and can scarcely be considered as the first glimmer of reflection on the Supreme Being. 19. The worship of a deity peculiar to any tribe was naturally, from the beginning, common to all the members of the tribe ; and those who governed the people in the other concerns of life, would also pre- side over their religious observances — the heads of families in private, and the 8acri\eis in the community. However, the services of religion were, at all events, especially among the less warlike nations, one of the most important duties of those in authority ; and it may be said with just as much truth, that the kings were priests, as that the priests were kings. Deme- ter, according to the Homeric Hymn, taught the kings of Eleusis her orgies ; and when the /Saa-iXeii lost their political power, they still retained, for the most part, the service of their tribe and country's gods; thus, the ^aa-iXeis'EMKwvioi of Priene continued to administer the Panionian sacrifices of Poseidon. Not merely states, but every subordinate union in the state, was held together by the bond of religion. There was no family of consequence in early times but had its form of worship, which, according to the particular history of the house, was either that of the 1 II., XV. p. 197. 188 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS city and people, or one peculiar to itself. The family, in both cases, when its worship attained general repute, — an event to which particular occurrences gave occasion,^ — ^might obtain a public priesthood of the same ; for, as families which distinguished them- selves in the art of prediction were intrusted with the office of prophet at national altars, (for example, the lamidae at Olympia,) so, it was considered, that those who had long carefully maintained the service of a god were best acquainted with it, and that their skill should be turned to the advantage of the whole community.^ 20. However, within the historical period, family priesthoods were less numerous than those which the community administered through their magistrates, or regularly appointed priests, to whom the office was often assigned as an especial honour.' But, that there ever was in Greece a priesthood, strictly speak- ing, in contradistinction to a laity, is a point which, in my opinion, cannot at all be established. The contrary, however, must doubtless have shown itself in actions which belonged to the one order, but were forbidden to the other. Now, the duties of the priests in Greece consisted in uttering sometimes a short and simple form of prayer ; offering up sacri- fices more or less solemn, wherein much importance was attached to the skill and accuracy with which the rites were performed ; all kinds of ceremonies, (such as the atonement for blood,) which, however. ' See above, p. 101. " Comp. Min. Pol. ii., and the concurring sentiments of Meier, Attic Process, p. 472. 3 Comp. II. V. 78, vi. 300. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 189 were intrusted at Athens to the Ephetse, who were not regular priests ; the chanting of hymns, although this was usually the business of public choruses ; and occasionally, prediction. There is nothing here pointing out a separation between priests and lay- men, as all these functions were exercised, in all ages, by persons who were not priests ; thus any one might even carry on prophecy, like any other art, in order to obtain a livelihood.^ There were indeed sacrifices from time to time, especially in the worship of De- meter and Dionysus, which could on no account be performed except by a few priests or priestesses, often even but once a-year, while the doors of the temple were closed ; and there were vessels or sym- bols of the worship which were kept secured in coffers screened with tapestry, and could only be seen under the same conditions ; but all this was merely caused by a dark and shrinking awe for these holy things, not by the striving of the priests after weighty and important privileges. 21. On the contrary, there was nothing in ancient Greece like a sacerdotal discipline maintained by instruction from generation to generation, — nothing like permanent relations between the priesthoods of different cities ; for not even the priests of one and the same sanctuary constituted, in the strict sense, the members of whole. I will, confine myself to Eleusis, as an example ; and yet certainly it is there, above all other places, that we might suppose a kind of hierarchy to have existed. Demeter, according to the account in the Hymn, instructed Celeus, Trip- tolemus, Dioclus, and Eumolpus, the princes of the 1 See, among others, Solon. Fr, 5. v. 53. 190 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS Eleusinians, in the performance of those sacrifices which were most pleasing to her, and also in the solemnization of the sacred festival/ The Hymn, which is an invitation to view the holy things of Eleusis, is evidently designed to represent in what manner the existing relations derived their origin from the goddess ; for the attempt to explain and account for extant and long-established usages is chiefly to be perceived in it. The Eleusinian princes, therefore, must, at the time when the bard lived, have still administered the sacred rites for the community ; and it is also clear, from the whole tenor of the poem, that Eleusis, with its lofty walls, (Cyclopean fortifications,) was still at that time an independent city, a voXis,^ and its festival Eleusinian, not Athenian. The families of the princes must, afterwards, for the most part, have died out ; for, in the historical times, when Eleusis had become a member of the Attic commonwealth, and the festival a state observance of the Athenians, out of the entire number we still find only the Eumolpidse, and some pretended descendants of Triptolemus ; the former, indeed, advanced to the first rank, as Hierophants or showers of sacred things. Originally, the Eumol- pidse were certainly nothing more that what their name denotes, a family of bards, who came to Eleusis from the neighbouring Thrace, (for Eumolpus . was called a Thracian in a very generally received tradi- tion,) which lay around Helicon, the birth-place of the Muses' worship. Afterwards, on the contrary, the ev fieXirea-Oai became only a subordinate matter,^ ' Comp. V. 150 sqq., 274, 476. ^ y. 99. ' Comp. Chandl. Inscr.,'p, 78, n. 123. Philostratus, i. Soph. ii. 20, p. 601. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 191 ail4 the /cjoa (paiveiv, to. lepa SeiKvvvai was an office of far greater importance ; wherefore Eumolpua, in proud family legends was even extolled as the founder of the festival altogether. The second office, that of torch-bearer, was for a long time held by the rich and influential family in which the names of Callias and Hipponicus alternate. They also, per- haps, came from Eleusis ; for they deduced their origin from Triptolemus,^ and, in like manner, their priesthood was regarded by them as a high honour : hence, Callias the Second fought at Marathon, decked out in his sacerdotal insignia ; but these Daduchi were, at the same time, generals, statesmen, and ambassadors. When their race became extinct, the priesthood was transferred, as an hereditary office, to the Lycomedse, a family of Cauconian origin, that had, from a remote period, performed at Phlya certain mystical sacrifices to Demeter and Poseidon ; but assuredly neither did it consist of mere priests.^ The third family were the Hieroceryces. According to one account, there were in ancient Athens four families of Ceryces, or heralds ; one of these, (to t?? fivcTTiipiwTiSos,) down to the latest times, administered the service at the celebration of the mysteries : so that one of its members was the Hieroceryx, properly so called. The others, however, had also free access to the various ceremonies ; but the question, whether on this account they ought on the whole to be called priests, can be easily answered by any one who is 1 Xenoph. Hell., vi. 3. 6. * We find Lycomedse as Daduchi at least 200 years before Christ, as may be reckoned from the genealogies. Min, Pol., p. 43 sqq. But at page 44, N. 2, for j». C&r. read a. Chr. 192 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS acquainted with the history of Andocides the Ceryx. Now, it is true that these families formed together a court of justice and council, and possessed, espe- cially the EumolpidsB and Ceryces, an i^vji^ris, that is, the right to give, according to custom, responsa de jure sacro} But how could those who, descended from different races, and pursuing different aims in civil life, were each contented with guarding the ancient privileges of their birth and family, and keeping up the usages of their fathers, form a priesthood ani- mated by like principles, and acting in concert ? and, in particular, how could they have thought of what has been laid to their charge in later times, — altering religion and mythology in a consistent and systematic manner ? The changes which took place in these between the time of Homer and Herodotus naturally grew out of the religious wants of the time, the in- fluence of other creeds, and the necessary operation of altered circumstances and relations. The priest- hood certainly contributed to them least, for they were destitute of all means of influence. 22. I cannot here avoid saying something also on the subject of Mysteries, in defence of opinions for- merly laid down.^ Mvtrrtipia are initiatory institu- tions ; and the main thing connected with them is the initiation, by means of which even those partici- pate in a worship who would otherwise have had no concern in it. In reference to this, we have at once to consider how totally different the questions are as to the age of the institution, and that of the worship, and how both are by no means necessarily found to- ' Lysiasag'. Andoc, § 10. Andoo. De Mi/ster., § 116, 2 With these Volcker concurs in his Myth, of the Jap., p. 371. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 193 gether ; but, on the contrary, the one rises out of the other only in particular cases. Thus Megara, as well as Eleusis, honoured Demeter from the earliest times ; and on the whole, the legends connected with the sacred rites transplanted to Sicily'^ were the same with those of Attica, but the latter only became Mvarrypia ; the former remained an ordinary Cere- alian worship. Now, in order that a worship might be converted into Mysteries, two things were doubt- less necessary. First, the worship must have sunk back into a sort of mysterious obscurity, whether this were caused by external circumstances, especially the subjugation of the tribes which were attached to it, or merely resulted from the nature of the worship itself. Both causes are commonly found in combination. The worship belonged to a remote age, and to tribes whose ascendancy had passed away, as is exemplified in that of Demeter and the Cabiri ; its usages, therefore, became strange, and almost re- pugnant to the prevailing refinement. A certain un- defined terror hung around the symbols preserved in the inner fxe'yapov as well as the ceremonies {opyia, TeKerdt) performed by skilful hands; the sacred legends were almost only whispered in the ear, and the strong expression of natural things, which almost appeared obscene when contrasted with the refine- ment of a more advanced civilisation, and which pre- vailed in all thes,e avopp^ois, whether sayings or sym- bols, raised the mystic feeling to a still higher pitch. But, secondly, it is a peculiarity of the genuine mys- terium, that the longing to share in it arises in those to whom the worship does not belong by inheritance ; • Dorians, vol. i. p. 416. 194 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS and this feeling, awakened by particular circumstan- ces, was only evinced for some institutions of this nature. The deisidcemonia of the Athenians, and the superstition of the Greeks who navigated the Pontus, were unquestionably the main reasons why Eleusis and Samothrace (together with Lemnos) should alone, of all the sanctuaries of Demeter and the Cabiri, have become so celebrated as initiatory institutions. 23. " But," it has been asked, times without num- ber, " what was it that filled the minds of the Greeks with such mysterious awe, so deep a reverence, as the Eleusinia inspired at the time of Pindar and Sophocles, if we assume it as a matter of certainty that instruc- tion, properly speaking, in the divine nature and man's future destiny, were not imparted in them?" It could not assuredly have been dread alone for the sacredness of dark symbols. I imagine (without, however, wishing to urge this view on any one else) that, as among the Greeks, everything, from the pe- culiar disposition of the people, became an art ; so also here, out of religious ceremonies, exhibition of symbols, actions performed in common by the mystse, and the chanting of hymns, a kind of imposing artis- tic whole was formed, which left behind that much- prized impression of spiritual comfort and confidence in those who had a susceptibility for symbolical com- munication. In particular, it cannot, surely, admit of any doubt that the mystae went away tranquillized by some means or other as to their future state ; and it is easy to perceive how readily the mythi of Perse- phone, to say the least, could be made available for that purpose. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 195 24. I have here gone on the assumption, which I consider unavoidable, that there was no regular in- struction, no dogmatical communication, connected with the Grecian worship in general. There could be nothing of the kind introduced in the public ser- vice, from the way in which it was altogether con- ducted: for the priest did not address the people at all. Where, for example, should he have said to them, "Apollo is a god who defends or destroys, according to the nature of the case "? But even in the mysteries dogmatical communication cannot be pointed out, as is proved by Lobeck.^ The Upol Xoyoi were themselves mythi which were designed to explain symbols. The only direct declarations are to be sought for in the sacred songs, in the epi- thets of the hymns ; but these, however, were still nothing more than strongly concentrated outbursts of feeling, such as Zed, KvSicrre fieyiare ; the continua- tion immediately relapsed into the mythical and sym- bolical. 25. But no clearly-announced doctrine will assur- edly be looked for as a tradition from the early world, when once it has been perceived that those ancient times gave, of necessity, a mythic expression to their notions of deity, and that the creation of the mythus was only at all possible, from the want of a direct communication.^ Such a doctrine or communication, therefore, could not be derived from the early world, and it would be necessary to adopt the supposition, that it was either mere speculation of the priests themselves, or of the philosophers. Now, no traces 1 De Myster. Argumentis. ^ See above, p. 19. 196 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS whatever of such speculation on the part of the for- mer can be found ; and the administrators of the positive worship were, for reasons which may easily be conceived, too much opposed to philosophy to borrow much from that source. Supposing them to have had views and opinions of every shade, and indeed it could not well be otherwise, these were altogether a private affair, and had nothing to do with their official duties. Thus Herodotus heard from the priestesses of Dodona an historical philo- eopheme regarding the origin of religion in Greece, — in that form certainly no primitive tradition. 26. Ancient Greece possessed only two means of representing and communicating ideas on deity — ^the Mythus and the Symbol. The mythus relates an action, by which the Divine Being reveals himself in his power and individuality ; the symbol renders it visible to the sense, by means of an object placed in connexion therewith. Both must have co-existed with belief in the gods from the very beginning ; for the latter was presented alive, expressed and com- municated through them alone. The idea of the Defender, the Bright God, {^oi^os 'AiroWm,) when once conceived, was certainly not expressed in the distinct naked doctrine, " There is a being of such power and agency." But the people would have experienced how their god warded off and protected ; and the power of faith was such, that one experience speedily led to another. Now, notions which have assumed the form of experience are just mythi. The religious worship, therefore, was even at its origin most intimately connected with the mythus. 27. But an attempt has been made to deny the ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 197 use of symbols to the earliest ages of Greece, and to bring it down to the post-Homeric and post-Hesiodic period. What is really meant by this I cannot ^ imagine. Symbol, in the sense in which it is here taken, and in which it was also understood by the ancients, is an external visible sign, with which a spiritual emotion, feeling, or idea is connected. As, according to the foregoing investigation, the mythic representation can never rest upon arbitrary choice of expression, I am also led to the assumption, the proof of which properly belongs to Symbolism, That this connexion of the idea with the sign, when it took place, was in like manner natural and necessary to the ancient world ; that it occurred involuntarily ; and that the essence of the symbol consists in this supposed real connexion of the sign with the thing signified. Now, symbols in this sense are evidently coeval with the human race : they result from the union of the soul with the body in man ; nature has implanted the feeling for them in the human heart. How is it that we understand what the endless diver- sities of human expression and gesture signify? How comes it that every physiognomy expresses to us spiritual peculiarities, without any consciousness on our part of the cause ? Here experience alone can- not be our guide: for without having ever seen a countenance like that of the Jupiter Olympius, we should yet, when we saw it, immediately understand its features. An earlier race of mankind, who lived still more in sensible impressions, must have had a still stronger feeling for them. It may be said, that all nature wore to them a physiognomical aspect. Now, the worship which represented the feelings of 198 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS the Divine in visible, external actions, was in its nature thoroughly symbolical. No one can seriously ^ doubt that prostration at prayer is a symbolic act ; for corporeal abasement very evidently denotes spi- ritual subordination: so evidently, for this reason, that language cannot even describe the spiritual except by means of a material relation. But it is equally certain that sacrifice also is symbolical ; for how would the feeling of acknowledgment, that it is a god who supplies us with food and drink, display itself in action, but by withdrawing a portion of them from the use of man and setting it apart in honour of the deity ? But precisely because the symbolical has its essence in the idea of an actual connexion between the sign and the thing signified, was an inlet left for the superstitious error that something palat- able was really ofiered to the gods — that they tasted it. But it will scarcely do to derive the usage from this superstition ; in other words, to assign the in- tention of raising a savoury steam as the original foundation of all sacrifice. It would then be neces- sary to suppose, that at the ceremony of libation, the wine was poured on the earth in order that the gods might lick it up ! I have here only brought into view one side of the idea which forms the basis of sacrifice, and which the other, certainly not less ancient, always accompanies, namely, the idea of atonement by sacrifice ; which was from the earliest times expressed in numberless usages and legends, and which could only spring from the strongest and most intense religious feeling. " We are deserving of death ; we offer as a substitute the blood of the animal." The shedding of blood, also, was not ori- ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 199 ginally considered as a mere figure, but as a real compensation ; for the feeling by which the act was accompanied in fact made it such. This signification of the sacrifice and libation was also known to Homer ; only he puts it in a somewhat problematical shape, in conformity with the particular occasion of the rite at the oath-taking, " May the brain of him who violates the oath be scattered like this wine upon the ground."^ However, even in this poet, both the meanings of the sacrifice already pass into each other, and he views it as a gift by which pardon for past sins is in some measure purchased from the gods.^ 28. Accordingly it is to be understood, as a matter of course, that all festal acts likewise are symbolical ; . only what is expressed are often very general feelings, such as joy, and the desire to please the gods. But no one can doubt that in many festal practices there was a more definite reference to the nature of the deity, and the special worship of individual gods is also their symbolism. It has indeed been said, on the other hand, that even the establishment of festi- vals was for the most part post-Homeric, because in that poet there is but little said in allusion to fixed annual feasts.^ But whoever has occupied himself, to any considerable extent, with the history "of the Grecian worships, must have come to the conviction (I here appeal with confidence to all who are ac- quainted with the subject) that the foundation of festivals is often most intimately connected with the 1 II., iii. 295. 2 11.^ ix. 499. ' Nevertheless, Le mentions the Panionia on Helice, XL, xx. 404, and the yearly sacrifices of the Athenian Erechtheus, and alludes to others. 200 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS establishment of the worship; and that the entire festal symbolism, as well as the time of the festival, must have been alike fixed at that time. One ex- ample will suffice. The festivals of Dionysus all took place in Poseidon, Gamelion, Anthesterion, and Elaphebolion, the last autumn and the three winter months.^ The derivation of this custom, merely from the general idea of the god of wine, would be inad- missible. The reason is to be found in the trans- plantation of the worship from Heliconian and Par- nassian Thrace. For we know with certainty, that the great biennial festival of Dionysus, called the Trieterica, was celebrated at Parnassus after the winter solstice, {pulsa hrwmaif and at Delphi, all the winter months were consecrated to the Dionysian religion, and the Dithyramb then resounded at all the sacrifices.^ In this way, if there were room here for further investigation, we might be enabled to give still more fragments of a Calendar of Feasts, which must have accompanied the colonisation of the worship itself from district to district. But it is altogether an absurdity to think of deducing these things, in which the Greeks, more than any other people, ob- served the customs of their fathers, and always most carefully repeated even what they did not under- stand, because it was a Trdrpiov, from times com- paratively recent, and but little removed from the limits of memory. 29. Further, the human form of the gods, as well ' According to Bockli's Exposition. The Lensea can, perhaps from the allusion in the Inscr. Merm. Oxon. 21, p. 15, be as- signed to the 19th Gamelion. ^ Comp. Ersch, Enoyclop., xi. p. 267. ' Plutarch Ei 9, s. 229. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 201 as their appearance in the bodies of animals, is sym- bolical. For even Anthropomorphism did not pro- ceed from actual external impressions, but from feelings and thoughts which sought a sensible ex- pression, and found the most fitting and natural in the form of man. Which was the earlier ; the dark idea of the might and power of Hera, or her strong arms, so celebrated by Homer? the idea of the paternal character and divine glory of Zeus, or the mild and majestic features of the countenance repre- sented by Phidias ? Every one must acknowledge that it was the former ; and the latter is, therefore, symbolical. Or did the ancients imagine, when they represented Demeter as a full and blooming matron, that young nature had sucked vital energy from those human breasts, or that from that body had come forth the blessing of the harvest ? Certainly not ; on the contrary, the form was entirely an em- blem of the thought. All attributes likewise were originally symbols ; only they commonly represented but one side, a single manifestation of the deity's person. Apollo was regarded as the god who sent mysterious and sudden death. For this agency, the language had scarcely any other word than the figure of arrows shot from a distance, and by it alone was the thought recognised. Numberless epithets cele- brate the Far-smiter, the skilful Archer. 30. But there is one point on which the opponents of symbolism insist with especial obstinacy ; and it is this : That there is no trace of animal symbolism to be found in Homer ; that the gods are never to be found represented by particular animals. Now, I will readily admit, that Homer had really no living intuition of a particular relation of the animal, as a 202 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS natural symbol, to the god ; but I maintain, at the same time, that he aflfords sufficient indications that an earlier age perceived such a relation. The ^owins "Hpa is a striking example. That Homer can scarcely attach to the expression any other idea than "large- eyed," is manifest from this, that he applies the same epithet also to a Nereid,^ and two heroines.^ On the other hand, the frequent repetition of this appellation, and the fact that, among the goddesses of Olympus, Hera is scarcely called by any other, furnish evidence of a solemn use of it, which can hardly be elsewhere derived than from Argos, which was also known to Homer as the chief seat of her worship. Now, when we know that the servant of the goddess, 'Iw KaX- XiOvea-aa, SO famed in primitive mythi, appeared at Argos in the form of a cow ; and that, too, at all events, before the Greeks came into any close acquain- tance with Egypt ;^ that Hera had sacred cows there ; that sacrifices of cows were offered up to her; and that, according to ancient custom, the priestess was drawn by cows to the altar, we also perceive that when the ancient Argive called his deity ISoSnris, he thereby nieant to describe her as having the form of a cow. And it is perfectly clear how the name, originally full of significance, after having circulated from place to place, and been carried about in the mouths of the bards, became a mere customary and unmeaning form. Homer certainly derived, also, from the same source, from ancient local worships, the name of Athena FXavKcoTTii, which, as weU as some other very an- cient names, he uses as a substantive ;* for the temple, ' II., xviii. 40. Comp. Hesiod. Theog. 355. ^ II., iii. 144, vii. 10. ' Comp. above, pp. 72 and 122. * II., viii. 373, 420. Od., iii. 135, xiii. 389. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 203 or the citadel of Troy, is called by himself a sanc- tuary of Athena Glaucopis ;^ at the time of Alcseus, a sanctuary, called TXavKWTrbv, stood in Sigeum^ — a town which, according to an ancient account, was built from the ruins of Troy; and the citadel of Athens was also called Glaucopion, as an ancient and sacred name.^ However, it is not meant to be asserted from this, that the surname of Glaucopis is, perhaps, derived from the owl. I only go so far as to say, that this epithet also comes from the wor- ship. How many mystic mythi are connected with the horse as a symbol of Poseidon ; and how deep lies the cause why this animal, of all others, should be dedicated to the god of waters ! Homer, how- ever, was well acquainted with the sacredness of the animal ; for it was solely on this account that the horses of Achilles were a gift of Poseidon,* and the horses of Zeus were unyoked by the same deity.^ The grounds, also, of all these fictions were still present to him in the worship ; for horses, as offerings to the Trojan Scamander, were plunged into that stream,® just as the ancient Argive sunk bridled horses into the fresh- water gulph Aeti/^J But by this we do not mean to say that the relation by which the horse was appropriated to Poseidon as a natural symbol — the feeling with which earlier generations had dedi- cated that animal to the god of seas and fountains, was still alive and distinct in the poet's mind. 31. Mythic narrations, ancient local traditions, 1 II., vi. 88. ^ Str., xiii. 600. ^ However, there was a dispute on this matter among the Alexandrian authors. See Stra., vii. p. 297 ; Schol. XL, v. 422. * XL, xxiii. 277. ' lb- viii. 440. 6 Jb. xxi. 132. ' Paus.,viii. 7. 2. 204 AUXILIARY PROPOSITIONS lead ua back more frequently than Homer's allusions to the early cultivation of animal symbolism. I select an example which I have already touched upon elsewhere — ^the Swan of Apollo. That deity was worshipped, according to the testimony of the Iliad, in the Trojan island of Tenedos. There, too, was Tennes honoured as the ^'jowj eiroow^os of the island.' Now, his father was called Cycnus in an oft-told and romance-like legend.^ That the aquatic fowl is thereby meant, may be proved from his parents, Poseidon the god of waters, who is named by many, and Scamandrodice ; ^ and this is confirmed by the circumstance mentioned by Hellanicus,* that he was white from his youth upwards.® The swan, there- fore, as father to the chief hero on the ApoUinian island, stands in distinct relation to the god, who is made to come forward still more prominently, from the fact that ApoUo himself is also called the father of Tennes.* I think we can here scarcely fail to recognise a mythus which was local at Tenedos, and could not possibly be invented at a time when, according to Voss's notion,^ adventurous mariners had brought home from Liguria, the legend of the musi- cal swans. The idea, too, of calling the swan, instead of Apollo, the father of a hero, demands altogether a simplicity and boldness of fancy which are far more ancient than the poems of Homer. On the contrary, ' Cicero, N. D. iii, 1.5, in Verr., 1. i. 19 ; Died., v. 83 ; Plut. Qu. Gr., 28, &c. ^ Canne on Conon, 28. 3 Schol. Vet. ad Find. O. ii. 147 ; Tzetz. Lye, 232. * Schol. Theoc, xvi. 49. ' Comp. Virg. Mn., x. 189. " Tzetz. Lye, 232. ' Myth. Letters, ii. 12. ON RELIGION AND SYMBOLISM. 205 the fable quoted by Hyginus from Hesiod/ bears a later character. It says that Cycnus king of Li- guria, was metamorphosed into a swan, from grief at the fate of his kinsman Phaethon. Here, indeed, the stories of mariners may have come into play.* However, this example also shows, that Cycnus, in mythology, signifies the swan ; and when we read in Hesiod's Shield, that a Cycnus was slain by Hercules in the Pegasjean sanctuary of Apollo, and that the same person had plundered the hecatombs of the god as they passed along, it may be understood at a glance, that this mythus must have been formed by nearly the following transitions and metamorphoses : First, Cycnus, Apollo's prophet, stationed at Pagasse and in the sanctuary ; then, through misapprehension, Cycnus plundering and devouring Apollo's herds. Thereby he became the son of Ares, and Hercules his enemy and conqueror. 32. Whoever wishes to convince himself of the deep influence exercised by animal symbolism on the entire mythology of Greece, has merely to under- take the task, not a trifling one, indeed, of reducing the fables related by Ovid in his Metamorphoses, to the original local traditions. Although certainly not in them all, in many of them, however, he will flnd symbols of the gods, the derivation and explana- tion of which can, in this way, be obtained ; and he may then perceive whether any work can be called a history of Grecian civilisation, which declares sym- bolism, though evidently the product of an ex- tremely simple and childlike intuition of nature, to ' Perhaps only from the ao^g/x^ £/€Xos. See above, p. 139. 2 Comp. Welcker's Pronieth., p. 569. 206 ON THE INTERPRETATION bie more recent than Homer's world of gods, who were, for the most part, emancipated from nature.^ Very often the mythus is nothing else than a sym- bol unfolded and put in action, having its existence in and through the symbol. Many legends, espe- cially lepol Xoyoi, are only explanations, or deriva- tions of symbols, although they do not always, by any means, set out from the correct idea of them ; for centuries frequently intervened between the crea- tion of the one and the formation of the other. On the whole, the symbol may, in general, be still older and more original than the mythus : for in the former a dark but strong feeling, and undefined pre- sentiment of the Divine are expressed ; whereas, in the latter, ideas and notions are rather presented, and that too in a more clear and definite manner. CHAPTER XIII. On the Interpretation of the Mythus itself. In the foregoing chapters we were occupied with an exposition of the method by which the mythus can be reduced to its original elements, and the cir- cumstances and relations amidst which it came into existence discovered. Now, it is indeed true, that the mythus itself is not yet thereby explained ; but I think that, at all events, the greater part of the way has been gone over, and the direction of the ' Comp., however, Dor. i. 327- OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 207 remainder pointed out. Experience in numerous cases has taught me at least, that the mythus al- most interprets itself, if seized in its native soil, if taken at its root. But — and here lies the main point — on this method alone can a philosophical con- viction be grounded. It can never result from mere conjectures, and sporting with possibilities. I ven- ture, therefore, to lay it down as a leading proposi- tion of this work, that in the treatment of mythi, interpretation is very far from being the first, and ought rather to be regarded as the last part of the business. The main problem, however, still remains. How are we to arrive at a tolerably certain understanding of the MYTHIC STYLE ? The mythic expression must be regarded as a peculiar child-like language, the grammar and dictionary of which have to be ascer- tained ; and this investigation must be confined to the existing materials, as a tradition regarding the ex- planation of this mode of expression, an authentic in- terpretation, is not to be expected from antiquity, or cannot be recognised. For the era of myth-creation itself could not possibly supply the interpretation, as it is a fundamental law of this spiritual activity, that it immediately adopts the imaginary as truth, without ever .reflecting on itself; and later times, which indeed occupied themselves with interpretation, had, together with the creative fancy, lost also the inward sense ; for the (roq!)t^o/aei'ot, who had the bold- ness, great for their own time, to separate mytholo- gemes from facts,^ did nothing more, however, than subtilize. Antiquity, on the whole, did not perhaps 1 Plato, Phsed., p. 229. 208 ON THE INTERPRETATION possess sufficient power of removal from self, for an historical consideration and elucidation of the sub- ject ; and was incapable of entering into a style of thought and invention which had become foreign to it. So that, we must not by any means concede to antiquity a legislative authority in this matter ; nor, on account of that criticism of earlier attempts, surrender the conviction, that investigation into the mythic expression can be conducted, even in our times, with great certainty and philosophical right consequence : a conviction which is especially grounded on this, that we have already a general idea of the relation between form and substance in the mythus, and of the myth-forming activity, and are enabled in some measure to enter into the manner of thinking by which that remote period was characterized. We know, as has been shown in the first chapter, that the most diversified ideas regard- ing the relations of deity, nature, and humanity, are here presented in the form of actions of personified beings. The fundamental notion is doubtless thereby expressed, that beings analogous to the souls of men, and only difiering from them by greater unity and internal agreement of action, live and move through- out the physical as well as the moral world. Nature is always conceived as in close union with man, and the spiritual principles of both (as in Themis) iden- tical or homogeneous ; nay, the spirit of man often appears, as in the genuine philosophy of identity, only a particular dependent spirit of nature. Hence it was that all life and nature came to be viewed as a theatre of dcemonic agency, — a belief which in later times, when enlighteument had obtained the ascen- OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 209 dancy, continued to exist merely as a superstition ; thus, for example, the story ran, among the women and children of Athens, that the rich and powerful Hipponicus cherished in his son (who actually turned out an enemy to the ancient honour of the house) a daemon of mischief, (aXirvpioi,) who overturned his table,^ — a superstition which is finely applied by Euripides, when he causes Helen to be denounced as a daughter, not of Zeus, but of 'AXda-Twp.^ This view, which we can now only attain by speculatiod, and perhaps even employ in poetry, was at that time the natural belief. Without it, mythology could not have arisen at all, although it still continued to be Cultivated in those ages when nature was more regarded as inanimate, and man more as a free in- dividual. Now, in ordinary mythology, it is a pervading principle, that the ordinary human relations are also transferred to all beings who are not human. Such are especially the relations of affinitjj by birth, by which an immense number of things are denoted, — a very natural circumstance, particularly at a time When the family bond and gentile union stood in room of aU other connexions. Procreation is therefore one of the principal images employed in mythology, — although no particular significance is attached to the act in itself, except where, in a general Way, life and health, blessing and plenty, are derived from it, as in the tepoi ydfiot ; and the organ of generation in the human body only figures as a symbol where constant fructification, permanent production, were imagined by faith to proceed from the gods, as in the 1 Andoc, De Myst., p. 17. ^ Troad., 769. P 210 ON THE INTERPRETATION worship of Demeter, Hermes, and Dionysus. But in heroic mythology, not only the cause, but also every main condition of existence, and not merely of collective existence, but also of the most conspicuous quality, is represented, under the figure of father or mother. Lands, mountains, and rivers, beget nations and heroes ; prophets and musicians are children of the gods of prophecy and music ; valiant warriors, the progeny of Ares, and tribe leaders, descendants of Zeus. It is only from the interest that Zeus and Apollo take in Hector, that he is called by Homer^ the son of the former, and by Stesichorus^ of the latter. Bygone are often the parents of later cir- cumstances, although these may rest on a different foundation. Hence it was that entirely different tribes, who inhabited the same district, are placed in genealogical connexion.' When the gods of a nation or family are said to have begotten its founders, this is a simple expres- sion of untutored piety : but when the contrary oc- curs, and the ancestors beget the deities, as the Minyan hero Erginus was the father of the foster- ing god Trophonius,* and Phlegyas the grandfather of Esculapius, who was originally worshipped by the Phlegyans,® we may conclude that such a mythus did not spring up among the people, but ewternally among those to whom the worship came from that race ; and who, therefore, looked upon the god him- self as its offspring. I would here scarcely bring forward examples, in support of the position, that • II., xiii. 54. « Tz. Lye, 266. 3 Orch., p. 257. * Orch., p. 152. « Orch., p. 199. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 211 the national deities frequently begat the national heroes, especially when the deeds of the latter re- ferred to the temples of the former, if it were not my design to show at the same time, by a clear ana- logy, how naturally it came to pass that surnames oi the gods came into the room of the names them- selves ; and in consequence of falling into disuse as surnames, were in after ages held to be proper names of heroes, while, at the same time, the remembrance still continued that the gods themselves were origin- ally regarded as the fathers of the heroes. Theseus was a Poseidonian hero. First, in the religious worship, for he was worshipped like Posei- don, on the o'ySoai, the eighth days of the month.^ Secondly, in the mythus: for the chief exploit of Theseus, in genuine ancient tradition, is evidently the expedition from Trcezen, where Poseidon was TToXiovxoi,^ across the isthmus of the god to Athens, and the destruction of the robbers and murderers he encountered ; but it is clear that the ^la-Ofiiag 6§6g, the rocky path along the shore of the Corinthian gulf, as well as the sacred pine-grove of the god, were thereby represented as being delivered and puri- fied from profane intruders, for even the Isthmia themselves were instituted by Theseus according to Attic tradition.^ Now, the father of Theseus was said to be either the god Poseidon,* or the Attic king, ^GEus, which name also derived from alyes, " billows, breakers," just designates the god of the ' Plut. Thes., 36. It can be gathered from the Inso. Marm. Oxon., 21, p. 15, that the Poseidia were celebrated on the eighth of Poseideon. 2 Plut., 6, &c. ' Plut., 25. * Plut., 6. 212 ON THE INTERPRETATION sea, whose sacred places are called Mggi, and who, at the Isthmus itself, was called ^gseon,^ otherwise Mgdsws,? A proof of this is to be found in the reli- gion of the Phytalidse, a family settled on the banks of the Cephissus, who were employed in rearing trees, especially fig plantations,^ and who worshipped deities corresponding to that occupation, namely, Demeter, Athena, Poseidon, the fruit-ripening Ze- phyrus,* and in addition to these iEgeus. Now, wherefore jEgeus ? ® Perhaps because they gave his son a friendly welcome when he came from the Isthmus?® This, in fact, is stated in the legend, which, like many others contained in the Theseus of Plutarch, was evolved from the religious usage ; but our context alone teaches us the true reason, viz., because ^geus is but another name for Poseidon. 2. Bellerophon, the Corinthian hero, as a search- ing mythologist^ has lately proved, corresponds, in his activity, to the god Poseidon, as horse-tamer and fount-opener. Now, he also is called the son of Poseidon, and the latter as the true is placed in op- position to the reputed father, (ttot^jo /car eiriKXtjcriv,) Glaucus, the Sisyphide.* But when we know that ' Callimach. in Plut. Symp., v. 3. 3. ^ Pherecyd. in Sohol. ApolL, i. 831. Comp. Lyooph., 135, Hesych., Alyaltav. 3 Pans., i. 37. 2. ^^ * Pans., i. 37. 1. ^ Plut. 23, where for s^fi§i6ri de xal n/tEvos ATTXll, we must certainly, from the context, read AirEI, and afterwards xal rouj &?rh Tu\) 'Haiasyjiww rh dadfjih oiMug sVa^an iig Suff/au durw TiXiTt ampag&i, as Plutarch can neither speak of a riftsvos of Theseus, Comp. c. 35, nor of a Suff/ot offered to him while alive. Comp. ibid. « Paus., 37. 3. Plut. 12. ' Volcker Myth, der Jap., § 5. 8 Schol. Vet. Pind. 0., xiii. 98. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 213 yXavKoi is a favourite epithet of the sea, — that An- thedon, in Bceotia, worshipped a sea-dsemon called Glaucus, — and that in Corinth itself there was a heroine named Glauce,'^ — in this case, too, we can no longer doubt that the father of Bellerophon was originally called Poseidon Glaucus. Hence, it is also clear, that the Ionic Bao-iXeis, whether they ascribed their origin to Neleus, or Glaucus the Lycian, were of Poseidonian race.^ 3. In the mythus of Ion, the collective of the Ionic nation, the reference to the Worship of Apollo comes most prominently forward. Euripides handled a legend according to which Ion was brought up in the Pythian sanctuary, and from him (or Xuthus) is also derived the introduction of Apollo's festival, the Boedromia ; lastly, he is also called a son of Apollo. But Xuthus is more commonly called his father. Here, this, too, is evidently but a surname of the god, who, being on other occasions often called ^av6o9, might also be called ^ov66s by dialectic varia- tion.^ 4. The fourth example may be taken from the above-explained mythus of TENNES,who, in like sense, is called the son of Apollo and Cycnus.* The relation of brothers and sisters, like that of parents, is susceptible of various interpretations. They often become children of one father by means of references the most widely different, and are then in some measure brought together, as, in the above elucidated genealogy,^ the fifty moons of the Olym- > Paus., ii. 3, 4. ^ Herod., i. 147. 3 Dor., vol. i. pp. 267, 273, 824. * P. 204. 5 P. 161. 214 ON THE INTERPRETATION pic Cycle are represented as sisters of the Epean and ^Etolian race. But the mythus often really designs to point out a fraternal relation. Even this, however, is not always to be understood as an in- ternal affinity, for it may exist between ideas and beings mutually opposed, merely because they stand on the same step, and have many points of contact. The pair, Prometheus and Epimetheus, is an example taken from the class of purely imaginary persons. Another which stands nearer to history is afforded by the hostile brothers, Crisus and Panopeus, who were called sons of Phocus so early as Asius.^ Crisa and Panopeus were considerable towns in Phocis, the former peopled by Cretans, and probably called Kpicra from K-ptjcrla ; the latter belonging to the Minyo-Phlegyans, the ancient foes of the Crisssean sanctuary. They certainly, therefore, were not placed in juxtaposition as brothers, by reason of any relationship, but merely on account of their hostility.^ There is one thing in particular to which I must here call attention, viz., the fathers and mothers of heroes sprung from ancient predicates, wherein we must probably recognise an ancient usage of poetry. Thus Homer calls the wily Melanthius, son oi^oXio;; thus, also, a brother of Athamas, in the mythus re- lating to whom flight and exile are a fundamental feature, is called Aiw)(PavSai (from SiooKeiv i.q. (jyev'yeiv,'' and x^**"-)* Although sons of heroes frequently ap- pear, whose names bear reference to the deeds of ' Paus., ii. 29, 4. Comp. Schol. Eurip. Orest., 33, Tz. Lye, 939, &c. 2 Orch., p. 188. s Buttmann Lexil., p. 219. < Comp. Orch., p. 175. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 215 their fathers, as Eurysaces to the evpii o-aKos of his father Ajax, and Tisamenus to Orestes' act of ven- geance, (ria-afiivov t>iv ixrirepa,)^ we must not, however, consider this a sufficient reason for pronouncing these sons to be in every case fictitious persons ; for even real children might be so called by the family or the people, in honour of their father, as the Trojans in Homer call Scamandrius " city-protector," because his father was so in reality. This mode of giving names was continued even during the historical times.^ Even these indications show how easily it may happen that genealogies run athwart and contradict each other, yet without any of them being mean- ingless and untrue; and how, in a larger tissue of family successions, the most different materials may lie mingled together. A most striking example is furnished by the many-coloured and perplexed gene- alogies of the Minyan race.^ Minyas is called the son of Orchomenus, because the race dwelt in that city ; the son of Chryses, because he inherited much gold from his ancestors ; the son of Ares, because the Minyo-Phlegyan tribe signalized themselves by fierce daring in war ; the son of Sisyphus, the JEolide, because the Minyans were nigh-related to the Co- rintho-iEolians ; the son of Poseidon, because they carried on navigation ; and the son of Aleus, from a neighbouring sanctuary dedicated to a dsemon of that name. In like manner, also, the relation of husband and ' Hercules' sons, Alcseus and Palffimon, also come under this 2 Comp. Dor., vol. i. p. 72 f. ^ Qrch., p. 133 sqq. 216 ON THE INTERPRETATION wife naturally admits of manifold interpretations; but here the fundamental idea will still always be that of union, which, however, may often also be only the means of representing another relation. On this subject, I shall merely observe further, that even the division of all mythological beings into masculine and feminine,-^the ancient Grecian people proper hardly knew a neuter gender, — cannot, in any event, have been the result of accident, In natural religion, properly so called, man is well known to be the active, woman the receiving prin- ciple ; but in order to explain throughout the whole of mythology, why a mythic being is male or female, the signification of the genders in the ante-historical ages will first require to be investigated. Instead of Prometheus, for instance, a Prometheia might also be emplpyed, if the never-resting intellect must not of necessity have been a man ; on the contrary. Divine Providence, a being akin to Destiny, was rightly put in the feminine by Alcman.^ But the reasDn why Des- tiny is invariably personified in that gender, as Morjoos and so forth, (for fiopo; is never represented in Homer as a person, and in Hesiod it is only another word for death,) will be perceived, if we reflect that the noiseless, preparing, spinning activity, the hidden, the secret, the invisible, is far more characteristip of woman than man. In like manner, we may under- stand with certainty why the goddesses of song are Mwo-at, and not Mmreg, when we knovv that anti- quity regarded the soul of woman as more accessible to every sort of inspiration, which also, according to 1 Plut., Be Fort. Rom., 4. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 217 ancient opinion, is still a watr^eiv. Much may be said on this subject, especially if, at the same time, we try with reflection to enter into the feelings under whose influence the original tongues made masculines and feminines of so many words in which the reason is now to us far from clear at first sight. As union and concord are generally expressed by relationship and marriage, so, in the mythic language, combat is the general figure to denote every kind of opposition. The mythus loves to render that which is internal external, to change relations into actions ; and in it, therefore, even things which were never at variance, must engage in conflict,^ But it not un- seldom happens, that a mythic contest arises out of the endeavour to explain how a present has come into the place of an earlier condition : hence, it was fabled by some whom ^Eschylus reproves in his Eumenides,^ that of the Delphian-oracle deities, Themis was driven forth by Phoebe with violence : and hence, also, Pindar's combat between Apollo and the Earth.' It is impossible to add here to these remarks a particular consideration of every action which occurs in the mythic expression, and is in the clearest man- ner seen to be figurative, in the theogonic legends more especially, but also in local mythi of a mystic nature; for example, binding and loosing, swallowing, tefiring asunder, restoring to life, serving up, emas- culating, burning, robbing, hurling from heaven, sinking into the earth and water, wandering about and searching, spinning and weaving, and — when the ' Comp. above, p. 53. ^ Eum., 5. 3 In the Schol. to y. 2. 218 ON THE INTERPRETATION action also takes in other symbolical beings and things — fighting with dragons, sowing teeth, tasting certain fruits, transforming into horses, serpents, bulls, and so forth. It is obvious, that to treat of these would be nothing else than to compile a grammar and dictionary of symbolism and mythology, in which the symbols, together with the mythic personages, would stand as verbal roots, and the mythic activities as flexions and syntactical collocations. This is not by any means a problem for an Introduction. However, we may here, to speak with Heyne, sub- join some cautiones to the treatment of the symboli- cal. To me, also, it seems a matter of certainty, that the entire mythic language was originally signi- ficant, and must therefore be interpreted. To sup- pose the contrary would be setting the Greeks down as mere childish fools. But it does not, however, follow from this that the symbolical expression is always significant, inasmuch as it may very well be imagined, that in times when all sorts of marvellous stories, originally of symbolical import, had once entered into heroic mythology, some of these would, as ordinary adventures, be transferred from one to another ; and on this transference, would now signify nothing further than the hero's strength and daring, or a beautiful and attractive tale. Imitations of this sort are very frequently to be met with in mythi,^ and, of course, add greatly to the difficulty of inter- pretation, inasmuch as in many cases they render its admissibility doubtful, unless other determinative grounds present themselves. Here lies another difficulty. We must not always ■ Comp. Canne, Mythol. Intro., p. 58. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 219 presuppose that a particular symbol corresponds ex- actly to a particular idea, such as we may be accus- tomed to conceive it. On the contrary, it is a pecu- liarity of this figurative language, that it takes up different sides of the same object, bringing forward and employing in representation, sometimes the one and sometimes the other. What different things does the serpent denote in Greek mythology ! — the exu- berance of all-producing nature, (in the mythi of Ce- crops, Erectheus, Cadmus ;) eternal youth and health, (in Esculapius ; ) and impure, savage, barren nature, (Python.), And how much more must that be the case when we go beyond the boundaries of a par- ticular nation, and come to others of a different character ! The symbols will partly remain the same so long as external nature continues unchanged ; but their signification will sensibly vary with the different national modes of intuition : but if, in addition to this, external nature, which leaves its impress on symbolical representation, is also different, then it often happens that everything undergoes a revolution and transformation. Thus the star Sirius was to the Greeks widely different in its import from what Sothis was to the Egyptians. To the former it was a dog which the heat of summer drives mad, and was therefore humbly adjured and deprecated; to the latter, it was the mild star of Isis, the harbinger of the Nile's overflow, and therefore representable in the form of a cow.^ This may serve as a proof how little the symbol, and what is symbolically repre- sented, always necessarily correspond among different nations. But when such a correspondence is found, ' St Martin, Notice sur le Zodiaqm, p. 42. 220 ON THE INTERPRETATION it may either have its foundation in the common nature of both lands and nations, or in external transference ; but we ought, however, when we would build philosophical conclusions on the latter, to point it oiit either directly, by means of express informa- tion with regard to the connexion, or indirectly, by showing the inadmissibility of the former supposition. In most cases that supposition might be the more likely, at least in general, as we can hardly, for ex- ample, derive all phallic representations from the same tribe. The Egyptian women greeted Apis with the same unbecoming ceremony^ which those of Otaheite practise towards strangers of consequence. Hero- dotus would say that the latter borrowed it from the former. The mythic deluges of Deucalion, Xisuthrus, and Noah, we may still attempt to identify ; but will that also do for the deluge of Satyavrata,^ and that of Mexico mentioned by Humboldt ? I here come, for the first time, to a point on which so much has been said elsewhere ; and on this account for the first time, because I wishexi to treat merely of the mythology of the Greeks as a distinct historical science. To say that it could not be handled sepa- rately in this way, would be as much, nay, strictly speaking, more than to assert, that the Greek lan- guage could not be acquired without the Sanscrit and Hebrew. The language is certainly a quite irrefragable proof that a common civilisation of man- kind lies at the foundation of the Greek, Indian, and German nations ; besides, it is not likely, that of this common civilisation nothing has remained except the languages. Certain thoughts, which are found every- ' Diod, i. 85. ^^ Purana of the Fish. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 221 where, (such, perhaps, as that man is a son of dust,) may be claimed as a common inheritance from the early world — with certainty in those cases where the thought can be pointed out as already lying in the original structure of the language. But the gods, the worships, the mythi of the Greeks, in their dis- tinctive character, assuredly belong to a totally different period, — a period of separate development, in which there was even no external, compact national whole. There was no Athenian virgin until an Athens arose in the Copaic plain,^ or in Acte ; and the Argive queen is hardly older than Argos. But the benefit of studying other mythologies than the Greek, and that, too, for the elucidation of the latter, must not on this account be doubted for a moment. Mythologies of different nations, just be- cause they are mythologies, stand in a closer relation to each other than to our modern unmythic modes of thought and representation; and the same process, the same epoch of development in the human mind, must in all admit of being pointed out in distinct characters. Now, the main thing is to enter into that mode of intuition ; and certainly this cannot be better accomplished than by occupying ourselves with legends and mythi of every kind, and considering them on every side. From this point of view, there- fore, I venture to address the following exhortation to ihe mythologist, without any apprehension tha.t my words may be supposed to be uttered in jest: — " Above all things, call up to your mind a lively idea of the feeling with which the Nadowessian adores his Great Spirit at the murmuring stream, 1 Orch., p. 123. 222 ON THE INTERPRETATION beside the waterfall ; and fail not also to note the impression made by the ecstatic dance, the wild charivari of unharmonious music, the frantic gesticu- lations, with which the negro nations worship their gods. Then listen to the sounds of religious wisdom from India, (had we but the vedas in a readable trans- lation !) and learn with astonishment how, in the region of the Ganges, a rich abundance of epic poesy bursts forth into bloom from the introduction of ideas regarding the divine Essence into primitive life ; and consider, again, how all light is quenched in the horror and desolation of the worship of Shiva. Let not, I pray, the Zendavesta have brought for you, in vain, traces of sacred religion and regular Magian worship, down to late posterity ; and Ferdusi shall show you, in still later form, how a heroic mythology must be formed under the dominion of dualism. And need I tell you how salutary it will be to you to make the god of the fathers of Israel your friend, the infinite creator of heaven and earth, who again, in the narrowest limitation, shares with the patri- archs all their domestic cares ; whose pure and simple religion, although surrounded on all sides by the orgiastic worship of Baal, and brought into manifold contact therewith, is preserved in its essential char- acter throughout long ages, and only slowly and never entirely degenerates ; and concerning whom the glowing tongues of the prophets flash with inspira- tion, kindled by the priests of Chaldea into a still livelier flame. Behold, further, a hierarchy, a system of politics, a beneficent agriculture, nay, as it would appear, even a code of religious ethics, engrafted on the nature-worship of Egypt. And would you not OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 223 also take hints for your study, by observing how the gods, whom we only know from the north, be- cause the north longest retained them, hold sway over a high-minded people ; and how there, from ancient faith and remembrances of national migra- tions, combined with later relations and events, a heroic poesy blooms forth, which, in its main product, entirely severed from its original soil, stands out curiously in a strange world! How the Huns of Attila and of the tenth century — how among another people, the Spanish Arabs and the Saracens of the Promised Land flow together — how the crusades extend the ancient legendary cycles on every side, — all these considerations must also furnish you with hints for the treatment of Greek legends, if you reflect at the same time that there was naturally greater arbitrariness and freedom in this fantastic mode of handling mythi than in that of ancient Greece, which was locally restricted, and of a more sober and earnest character. Only roam on, there- fore, all fearless, in the mazy garden of romantic chivalrous poesy, which drawing within its circle all that is glorious and inspiring, gave itself but little concern as to where its flowers originally grew. Nay, even the last forms of the mythical, the popular and nursery tale, which sports with the significant and mysterious ; the stories of ghosts and enchant- ments ; the Thousand and One Nights of Arabia ; the Italian Novels, which Shakspere chose for the groundwork of the most glorious poetry; our ro- mances, which are told, in short, to kill time, — I would wish that nothing should be lost to you ; and let no foolish fear of losing yourself restrain you 224 ON THE INTERPRETATION from the joy of wandering. Refresh and liourish yourself with this wine and these viands; let the spirit of the mythus, from all these manifestations, stir and quicken your fancy, and many a prejudice will vanish, many an analogy lead your study into new paths." I may well speak thus, after having throughout thirteen chapters sought to show that the chief point in the historical knowledge of the mythus is the in- vestigation of the particular circumstances and rela- tions amidst which it was formed, and inasmuch as the entire book is opposed to the theory which would make the majority of mythi importations into Greece from the East. In order that this may be assumed of one even, distinct proof is required, either of so great internal agreement as only to be explained by transplantation or, secondly, that the mythus is utterly without root in the soil of Grecian local tradition, or, lastly, that transplantion is expressed in the legend itself. It is understood that I can also follow this princi- ple alone in the derivation of proper names. These, for the most part, grew up together with the mythi, and have an equally national and local origin. Some particular names may have come from without ; but they will still be distinguishable as external, of fo- reign extraction : thus, for instance, the denomination of the Cimmerians may be Phoenician, just as well as Cinnamon, Kiwd/jLWf^ov. But that can affect very little the internal tissue of Grecian tradition. It can hardly admit of doubt that etymology is a main auxiliary in the explanation of thei mythus. Every name which appears in mythology must d«sig- OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 225 nate either an actual or a merely imaginary person ; must be either a real nomen proprium, or an original appeUativum. That it also contains names of the former class is indubitable. Everybody will admit this with regard to tribes, lands, and cities; but Greek tradition must have also transmitted the names of heroes to posterity, as that of every other country has done, (witness the Attila of history and E^zel of German legends.) On the contrary, what is not per' son, all cosmogonic beings, all gods, supposing that they were such originally, all daemonic natures can only have names which in some way denote the idea of them, however generally it may be conceived : here, there- fore, we must interpret. However, the separation of the one from the other in detail is much more diflSi- cult than it may appear in general ; because it first depends on the explanation of a mythus, to which also that of the name belongs, what portion of it is real and what imaginary; and because the mere pos- sibility of interpreting a name does not prove that the person who bears it did not exist. For, although indeed the current names of persons as well as places do not generally indicate their nature and character, yet this precisely may be often the case with my- thic persons, without their being therefore devoid of reality, and that for two reasons : First, Because the earlier the period, the kind of activity was so much the more determined by descent; and in a family of heroes, heroic, in a family of musicians, musical names prevailed.^ Secondly, Because even on heroes who • This is aieo in objection to the mjrthic invention of names which WelckeronSchwenck, p. 330, assumes, for example, inLigyrtiades, Mimnermus' father, and so forth. In other cases, it is really epi- grammatic play. Q 226 ON THE INTERPRETATION really existed, their current names may have been first bestowed, perhaps merely by bards, during their lifetime, a practice pointed at by the traditions of double names borne by many heroes;^ so that we can pronounce the name to be of poetical inyen- tion, without robbing the -person of all existence. Neither are we to confound the play on names by the ancient bards with the poetical formation of names ; and, for example, because Odysseus in the Odyssey calls himself him whom the gods oBva-avro, seriously to derive the name from that word. All this, however, is not said with the least design of giving a colour to the superstition of those who see every- where in mythology real proper names of real per- sons, — a belief which is at once disposed of by merely considering how easy it was for the ancient poet to provide a number of persons with fitting names, as Homer, for instance, shows extraordinary fertility in inventing names for Phseacian sailors f nay, dexterity in the invention of names appears to have formed one of the ordinary constituents of poetical excellence. Hence, even in heroic mythology, persons, especially of subordinate rank, frequently appear, the entire idea -of whom is exhausted by the name: thus, a hero who received Hercules is called the Receiver, Ae^ojuei/os; and a tyrant who applied the pines of Poseidon to the cruel purpose of tearing his victims asunder, was called the Pine-bender, HiTvoKaiMirrti^,^ &c. In this the Greeks were but too skilful ; and even in the rela- tion of historical events, with little trouble concealed their ignorance of the true name by invention. Thus ' Clayier, Hist., i. p. 48. = Od., viii. 111. ' Comp. above, p. 214 sq. OF THE MYHUS ITSELF. 227 the Mantineans and Spartans called him who slew Epaminondas, Machserion,— a name which seems to be formed after that of Machsereus, the slayer of Neoptolemus/ But with regard to those names which, since they denote nothing real, must evidently be significant; these, again, fall into several classes, nearly the same as those into which the myithi were above divided.^ In the one, general ideas are very plainly and directly expressed with words which never died out in the language. I refer to Motpa, X.dpis, "Qpn, Qifin, "H/Si;, Eo-r/a, and the like. These beings must either have been personified at a period when the langu^age had already assumed its later structure and form ; or the names were propagated in common usage together with the appellatives, because the signification always continued present to the mind. It accords with this view, that all these beings, although they were paid divine honours, had yet, properly speaking, no his- tory of their worship by which they might be follow- ed from place to place, like other deities. They were usually attached to the worship of the chief gods, and, on the whole, never attained the same degree of personality and individuality with the great Olym- pian deities- Even these were, indeed, at first only images, to which religious thought and invention gave birth, but which, as it were, entirely stept forth from the creative mind and were separately embodied. With this is doubtless connected the circumstance that their names much less resemble appellatives, ' See Paua., viii. 11. 4. Comp. the mythus of the battle of Leuctra, Plut. A7nat. Narr., 3. Orch., p. 31S, 8. 2 P. 55 sqq. 228 ON THE INTERPRETATION and can only be explained from such by the as- sumption of all sorts of changes, transits of differ- ent tribes, and epochs of language; and that even then no such direct and comprehensive expression of an idea will be found in them as in the beings of the first class : (I may instance 'AttoXXwv, the Aver- ter; Arnnt^r/p, the Earth-mother ; "H/)a, Queen.) To these must be next added a third class of mytho- logical names, — those that sprang from the epic or earlier hymn-poetry, vv^hich, in general, announce themselves distinctly enough by their tone and co- lour. I reckon among these the Hesiodic names of the individual Hours, Graces, Furies, Fates, Gor- gons. Harpies, Nereids, (except Thetis,) Ocean- nymphs, (with the exception of Aiuvij, and also, per- haps, Sri^, the Abhorred,) and many others in which usually the general idea of the species is carried out in the sense and spirit of the ancient bards. Now, where it is absolutely necessary to interpret, nothing is certainly of more importance than to discard vague conjecture, and only to admit such transitions and alterations as are borne out by traces left in the language, or by clear analogies. Did we not know, for example, that the Latin D is often the same letter with the Greek Z, as in radiiv, piQa, odor, olQia ; and did not the iEolic Aew? stand be- tween Zeirj and deus, we should also be ignorant that the Greek Zew signifies nothing else than deus. Did not Epicharmus and SOphron furnish us v\n[th the simplest form of the sea-god's name, viz., noTt^ajj^the following, as I think, evident deriva- ' Gen. no!-/3a, Herodian n. imv. Xsg., p. 10. Dor., toI. ii. p. 493. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 229 tion of the word, could scarcely be laid down': — Root, nOTOS, fluidity, in ttoVto?, vorafjios, related to IJOii. noTiSas in the patronymic form, also HorelSas, Ionic UotrlStis, (from which a temple of the god IloereiStov, the month HoviStjlav in Ionia, Attice Tloa-eiSeuv,) and, by elongation, HoTeiSatav, TloreiSay, Tloa-eiSecey, Tloa-eiSSiv. But, alas ! etymology is still a science in which blind guess-work is more prac- tised than methodical investigation ; and in which, because we wish to explain everything too soon, our labours more frequently result in confusion than elucidation. Yet such valuable service has been rendered by individuals on individual points, that there is no folly in hoping for still more impor- tant solutions from, this quarter. Only we must urge that regularity be everywhere pointed out, inasmuch as language, in its formations, follows almost as strict laws of growth, transition, and metamorphosis as nature herself Let not conso- nants be lightly interchanged, on account of their affinity; for precisely the finest distinctions which writing is incapable of expressing, are, with mar- vellous fidelity, held fast for thousands of years in the mouths of the people. This also would I re- quire, that there should be no striving away beyond the proper roots in primitive form; you then sink into an abyss where no light penetrates. On the other hand, mythic names often lead to roots which are no longer extant ; but must have evidently existed. There can be no doubt that Zeis Avkuios was so called from light ;^ but the real primitive ' Comp. Schwenk Etym. And., p. 18f). ' Dor., vol i. p. 328. 230 ON THE INTEEPRETATION word is only in the Latin luim, although, in the Greek, \evKog, 'Kv)(i>6r, and other words, are deirivied from it. The sun's name, also, 'HXeKrtep, ^Xe/cTpoi», and the mythological name, 'HXsKxpa, clearly refer to light. The derivation from " not to go to bed " is surely very far-fetched. Here we come back to the wide- spread root eXa, splendour. A complete compa- rison and analysis of all names, not merely mytho- logical but also historical, (for these also, in great part, come down from the early world,) which cannot be explained from verbal forms in use, would certainly afford much light. The discovery of one leading root explains a crowd of names : thus, from ko^w orno, KeKaa-fiai, or KeKaSftoti, ornatus sum, excello, KaSfAos, the Former, EvKaSfiog, the Well-former, Ka/>, the General, or also the Former, MtiSea-i- Koia-Tti, the Wisdom-adorned, Iokoo-ti/, the Violet- adorned, Kaa-Tiaveipa, the Husband-adorned, Em- KacTTt], UoXvKoiaTi], TlayKacmi, and "AxaerTog, the Unadorned, (to whom, therefore, his wife prefers Peleus,) are derived in the simplest manner.-' Words and forms also, preserved merely in individual dia- lects, must be brought within the scope of this in- vestigation: thus, from the later merely Laconic ^aos, X'*'^°^> «X"'*'^» good,^ the Achseans as apiirr^es, and Demeter Achasa, as the good goddess, may, in my opinion, most easily admit of explanation. In particular, the laws of verbal formation, such as the earlier epochs of the language represent them, must be investigated. I here allude, for instance, to the practice of reduplication, — by which an ad- jective receives a more intensive signification, and 1 Dor., vol. ii. p. 502. ^ Comp. Welcker's Cadmus, p. 23. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 231 thereby becomes a proper name, as in 'Zia-v(l)oi, from a-ocpos, a-vtpas, — to the patronymic forms, especially that in luv, without patronymic signification, and the like.^ And in a similar way with the peculiar laws: of formal structure, which may be compared with those of crystallization, or others in nature, so must also the laws of spirittml eTrolution, of associa- tion of ideas, such as was natural and necessary to nations, be deduced from the aflSnity of words, and their different significations at different epochs; in- vestigations which, if conducted to a clear and cer- tain issue, must also throw a strong light on my- thology. As the matter, however, yet stands, in etymologi- cal interpretation above all others, the greatest cau- tion is to be recommended; and it is hardly ripe enough to become the guide of investigation. Ex- tremely much depends on how we enter, and where we begin. The names, too, as well as the symbols, are often ambiguous, and admit of various explanations. An example is afforded in Ai'oXoy, who, indeed, on the one hand, certainly signifies the Wind-man, (as the Harpy 'AeXXw, a Wind's bride ;) but, as a Thes- salian hero, he can, however, be scarcely anything else than the collective of the At'oXets.^ In conclusion, I must yet invite attention to the different mental activities by which, in decypher- ing the mythus, both its elements. Fact and Imagina- tion, the Real and the Ideal, are recognised. I can scarcely arrive at a knowledge of the latter in any other way than by, in some measure, reproducing it ' Comp. Welcker's Prometh,, pp. 549, 551. ^ Otherwise Welcker on Schwenck, p. 320 232 ON THE INTERPRETATION in myself; as, indeed, I cannot otherwise conceive a; work of art, a poem, nay, even a fact, if I look avpay from the mere external transaction. Now, it is easy to understand, that by reason of the strange intuition' of the world upon which the mythus rests, as well as the singular mixture of thought, feeling, and fancy which is revealed in it, that this reproduction is not within the reach of every one, and that it requires a peculiar talent, a peculiar disposition, nay, even a peculiar dedication, although, from the fluctuation of judgment as to the right method of explanation, so many different opinions may be found in regard to this talent and disposition. This, however, is clear, that mere combination, and syllogism, however fine-spun it may be, may, indeed, lead near to the goal, but not to the goal; and that the final act, the real internal intelligence, demands a moment of in- spiration,' unusual exaltation, and an extraordinary cooperation of the mental powers, which leaves all calculation behind it. It is otherwise with the Real in the mythus, if we regard it entirely as such, as something that happened externally. Yet there is a great variety of views as to the way and manner in which it is to be dis- tinguished. It-has, indeed, been said, "Let what cannot be conceived and explained as Idea, remain behind as Fact." Not bad, if the Ideal were but first separated, or could be separated, without the Real being determined at the same time. It is quite fruitless to hoild by the external form : for that con- stantly deceives. Neither can the marvellous furnish a criterion, except in so far as it expressly exhibits invention and idea ; but the non-marvellous, because OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 233 it is possible, is not, however, therefore real: for even the drapery which clothes the imaginary, might, from accident or internal necessity, keep within the bounds of the possible. It is further to be remarked, that this Real, a matter of particular importance to us, is not in gen- eral by any means directly communicated in the my- thus I nor can it therefore be left as a remainder when the Ideal is withdrawn. Actual adventures of heroes must also, indeed, be narrated in the my thus ;^ and nothing, at least now, prevents us from really believ- ing that Agameihnon, a Mycenaean prince,and Achilles, a Phthiotic Hellenian, real persons, laid siege to the really existing city of Troy. But, in order to form an idea of the civilisation of the Grecian people, all dates which concern the relations and destinies of the Greek races are more important to us ; and yet the mythiis says very little expressly about them : in- asmuch as, in accordance with the law of its origin, it puts the hero for the tribe, the former being often merely the collective of the latter. In like manner, the relations of the people to the religion can only be discovered from their products ; in other words, we must nowhere expect the express mention that the tribe worshipped such a god since such a time, and brought his worship to such a place. The legend can merely inform us that the god begat and pro- tected the ancient heroes of the race ; that he led them on a perilous course to those shores where his temple still stands, and so forth. In short, we see the actual occurrences and circumstances contained in the mythus, only as in a concave mirror, from ' Above, p. 9, and 225. 234 ON THE INTERPRETATION whose Gonflguratioii we must discovei, by calcnilation, the original form of the distorted image it present®. It follows from this that we can find the most important transactions of the mythic period only through the explanation and combination of mythi. Without, therefore, comparing different mythi, and showing that they presuppose the same fact, com- plete certainty can scarcely be attained. Every- thing, indeed, here depetids on the decision of how much is to be held as accidental ; but this decision, also, is in many cases as sure and evident as can well be desired in an historical science. One ex- ample will make the matter clearer than a long train of general reasoning. If I learn that Apollo brought Cretans to Crissa, in order that they might adminis- ter for him the Pythian sanctuary ; that the ancient Tilphossian altar of the god stood in a region where Cretans dwelt, according to native tradition ; that there were in Lycia ancient Cretan settlements, and that the most notable worship of Apollo was estab- lished there ; that the ancient citadel of Miletus was of Cretan foundation, and that here, at the same time, there was an oracle of ApoUo ; that the first mythic prophet of Clarus was called the son of a Cretan ; that the landing of Cretans in Troas was said to have given rise to the worship of the Smin- thian Apollo ; that in Athens, the expedition of Theseus to Crete occasioned the establishment of several festivals in honour of Apollo, and still further data of the same kind from other quarters, I must be utterly obtuse in regard to all historical inquiry, if I would not draw the conclusion, that the Cretans in many places founded ApoUinian rites. But I OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 235 mmt also be a stranger to all knowledge ofmythi, were I to raise the objection, that no mythus makes that statement directly and in plain terms. Hence the coincidence of two real things^ the Cretans and the worship of Apollo, is only at all capable of explana- tion on the supposition of a real relation, L e., the actual propagation of the worship by the tribe. Or we must entirely deny that all these were traditions, which, however, can be distinctly pointed out in several places ; or, lastly, prove that such legends might perhaps have been introduced by a secret con- federacy, whose design was to persuade everybody that the Cretans were the founders of Apollo's wor- ship. He, however, who has reflected whether popular traditions can spring out of such persuasion, and has, besides, considered the great alterations which those traditions have undergone in the course of ages, as well as their deep local implication, will, before admitting such an idea, at least — demand the proof. Combination, accordingly, can alone determine the value of legends for the ascertainment of facts ; and in this field, therefore, it stands higher than all lite- rary criticism, which is usually conducted in so one- sided a manner, inasmuch as it alone affords certain criteria by which the legend springing out of the fact itself may be distinguished from its poetical modifi- cation. Of this also but one example. That the Dryo- pians had come to the Peloponnesus from the regions of Southern Thessaly, lying around OEta and the Spercheus, was a fact known to antiquity. Aristotle repeated the simple tradition that Dryops had con- 236 ON THE INTERPRETATION ducted them thither.^ The ordinary heroic mythus was, that Hercules had expelled this people from the country of the CEtaic Dorians or their neigh- bourhood, and that they had therefore come to the Peloponnesus.^ The following information, not, in- deed, in contradiction to the prevailing tradition, but adding to it, however, a leading point, vras first given by Pausanias,' viz., that Hercules dedicated the vanquished Dryopians to the Delphian god, and only led them to the Peloponnesus in compliance with his behest. He does not tell us expressly where he obtained this information: the Asinaeans, who at that time lived in Messenia, told a different story; and I do not know any writer, except Ser- vius, who gives exactly the same statement.* He says, hi populi ah Hercule victi Apollini donati esse dicuntur. We have, therefore, to prove the legend by itself, and independently of all literary authority. Now, we know that there are many other instances of entire tribes having been actually dedicated to Apollo,* and this might render the relation of Pausanias pro- bable ; but it may also be objected, that the legend was invented according to the analogy of existing circumstances. Secondly, By means of that relation the contradiction might be explained between the traditions, on the one hand, that the Dryopian prince, Leogoras, desecrated the sanctuary of Apollo, and the Dryopians made war on the Pythian temple; and, on the other, the historical fact that the worship of Apollo existed among the Dryopians in Argolis and 1 Strabo, viii. 373. * Herod., viii. 43. Strabo, ib. ' IV. 34. 6. ♦ Ad. ^nead., iv. 146. ' Dor., vol. i. p. 283-288. OF THE MYTHUS ITSELF. 237 Messenia/ where Virgil, in accordance with the epic poets of Greece, even makes them serve the God at the Delian altars.^ This contradiction would, I say, be satisfactorily solved by the fact that the hostile tribe had been subject to him for a time, and the agreement is certainly not accidental ; but it might still be said, that the story was just devised for the purpose of removing this contradiction, and the solu- tion of the mythus is still by no means the correct one. This also granted, we beg that yet a third circumstance be considered. Although the relation in Antoninus * is otherwise very romantic, this much, however, is clear from it, that, in the ancient terri- tory of the Dryopians at Thermopylae, there were legends about an ancient Dryopian hero, Cragaleus, to whom sacrifices were also offered up at Ambracia ; for, as is confirmed by Pliny and others, that place also was inhabited by Dryopians. Now, it is clear that this bears some relation to the tribe of Crau- galidse or Cragalidse, (it does not appear to me im- probable that it was also called Cragaleis,) which figures in the history of the sacred war (OL 47) in connexion with the Cirrhaeans, and was, with thesq, extirpated by the Amphictyons, and rendered bondslaves to Apollo.* These were evidently there- fore ancient Dryopians, Dryopians in Cirrhsea, en- tirely as in Pausanias, and, like the Cirrhaeans them- selves, doubtless formerly attached to the temple, ibut who had now revolted, and were at war with its ' Dor., voLi. p. 286'. « j^nead, iv. 143. ' Lib. 4. * ^schin.,y. Ctesiphon, 68. Harpocr. KgavyaXKlimi, whence KgavyaX/ov near Cirrha is referred to, according to Didymus and Xenagoras. 238 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD guardians. We could not, even had Pausanias said nothing of that dedication, avoid concluding some- thing of the sort, from their very presence and their relations otherwise ; and it is evident that what Pausanias relates is ancient tradition, and not, by any means, an invention of times in which the last trace of those Cirrhsean Craugalidse had disappeared. CHAPTER XIV. Examples of the Method which has been laid down. Although, throughout this entire work, I am not aware of having left a single position of any im- portance without the elucidation and corroboration which individual instances supply, I shall, however, subjoin one or two others which may clearly exem- plify, in a general way, the process whose principles I have thus far laid down. I select for that purpose, in the first place, the mythus of Apollo's servitude ; because I have explained it elsewhere, but perhaps too briefly. At least, a thinking scholar, Hermann, in his preface to Alcestis,* has reproached me with having attempted this explanation ineredibili quo- dam modo ; and he finds the chief ground of his charge in this, that I more hodierno ad mysticee reli- gionis inejeplieabilem doctrinam prc^endfirem. Per- XIV. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 239 haps, if I advance step by step, I shall succeed in removing this reproach. 1. Admetus, son of Pheres, reigns at Pherse, a city of Southern Thessaly. Apollo serves in his house and on his pastures, and even rescues him from the hands of Death in gratitude for his kind- ness. This was already told before Euripides by ./Esehylus •,^ but the bondage with Admetus was even known to Homer, for he ascribes the excellence , of the horses of Eumelus, son of Admetus, to the training of Apollo.^ The reason assigned by Phere- cydes^ for the bondage, was the wrath of Zeus, which Apollo incurred by killing the sons of the thunderbolt-forging Cyclopes, wherein he followed Hesiod ; only that the latter mentioned the Cyclopes themselves, as do also Euripides and ApoUodorus.* But either of them, according to these authors, were slain by Apollo, because Zeus had, with weapons forged by the Cyclopes, killed his beloved son Escu- lapius ;* and the reason of this, again, was, that the miracle-working physician had, at that place, even recalled the dead to life, and thereby diminished the subjects of him who rules in the infernal world.® The myth-compiler referred to, related further, ihat the time of the bondage to which Apollo was com- pelled to submit by the command of Zeus, amounted to a eviavTog,'' that is, a definite period,* as Apollo, with Poseidon, also served Laomedon, according to 1 Eumenid., 713. ^ II., ii. 766. ' Schol. Eurip. Alcest. 2 in Sturz, 2d edit. * Schol. Eurip. ib. ' Athenagoras ias preserved for us the Hesrodic verses refer- ring to this, Legat., p. 106, Oxf. Pindar; P. III. 57, imitated them. ' Phereoydes, and in the Sdtol. to Pindar, P. III. 96. ' Hence Apollod., iii. 10. 4. * Comp. Orchom.,'p. 21-8 sqq. 240 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD. Homer, for a evtavTo^} The established, and, in the ancient epic, frequently-recurring phrase is ^^eveiv its iviavTov. So much for the ancient legendary ma- terials. The first question is. What is here genuine an- cient tradition, and what has been added by the authors who handed it down, particularly Hesiod and Pherecydes? Now, there are several reasons for inferring that the occasion of the slavery, — ^the destruction of the Cyclopes in order to avenge Escu- lapius, — was not a popular local tradition, but was derived from another cycle of legends, and introduced into the native legend in the process of elabora- tion. Esculapius had originally no connexion with Apollo. His worship and legends have entirely different localities, an entirely different history.^ Lastly, the whole connexion of the legends has the appearance of being linked together from different traditions ; nay, in the statement that Esculapius was slain because he restored the dead to life at Delphi, the modification of one fable for the sake of another is very clearly betrayed, as the traditions regarding the person resuscitated by Apollo were so numerous and diversified.^ It might be said, on the other hand, that Pherecydes found even this in a local tradition, which must, of course, have been Delphian, because the scene of the whole fable, as given by him, is laid at Delphi. But we know that the Delphian legend deduced Apollo's bondage, not from the killing of the Cyclopes and Esculapius, but from the destruction of Python. Anaxandrides,* a ' II., xxi. 444. * Dor., vol. i. p. 308. ' See above, p. 34. * In Sohol. Earip. ih. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 241 Delphian writer, states that Apollo was obliged to serve because he slew the monster. This is still more strongly proved by the festal ceremonies of Delphi, which I have already described, and whose high and ante-historical antiquity I have demon- strated.^ Every eight years the combat with Python was there represented by a boy; and when it was over, he set out by the sacred road for Tempe, iu Northern Thessaly, in order to be there purified, and to return at the head of a Theoria to Delphi, with a laurel, branch from the sacred valley. All this was dramatic representation of the mythus. Thus was the god Apollo himself said to have fled and made atonement.^ Now, on the road to Tempe, the boy also represented the servitude of the god, as is stated by Plutarch;^ and it is evident that in the mythus itself the bondage of Apollo in Thessalian Pherse cor- responded to this representation. Moreover, it can be shovra, with tolerably clear evidence, that the sacred path, the 686; tlvOias, by which the boy travelled, really passed :by Pherae. It led from Delphi through. Western Locris, through Doris, over mount CEta, through the country of the Malians and vEnianians, and then it doubtless went through Phthiotis, stretch- ing into the Pelasgian plain, and on by Larissa to Tempe.* Any on^ whOi possesses a geographical knowledge of the country will perceive that Pherae also lay in the direction specified; the more so as, according to an allusion in Hesiod,' the hecatombs. 'P,97. * Comp. Callimachus in Tertnlliati, De Cor. Mil. c. 7. ^ De Defectu Oraa, -15.. ai re vJMvai xal ^ XarjE/« rou iraiiit 01 n yn6/itm ittgl rA Tl/tMrj] xa6ag//,oi. * Uor,, vol. i. p. 231 sq. * The Shield, v, 477; R 242 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD which were sent from Thessaly to Pytho were con- ducted past the Pagassean sanctuary of Apollo, and Pagasse lay only ninety stadia distant from Pherae/ By this means, then, we have already attained two objects : first, we hare discovered, in the established form of the legend, what was merely contributed by literary treatment ; and, secondly, we have also ascer- tained, at the same time, the real form and original connexion of the mythus as a Delphian local fable. It may, indeed, be objected, that neither is this the Original one, and that it perhaps arose out of the amalgamation of a Delphian and a Pheraean legend ; but this is discountenanced by the circumstance, that all its elements find their complete explanation in Delphian customs and institutions, and we have no need therefore to take refuge in anything else. We turn, therefore, after having established the original form of the legend, to its interpretation, in which it will be most clearly shovm — and this is a main posi- tion in the present work — that its path is marked out with perfect certainty, when the circumstances which influenced the origin, of the mythus are first ascertained. Here, in fact, all the individual points are completely deared up by this method of pro- cedure. First, Bondage itself as a punishment for murder. It is certain that the entire law of expiation for blood emanated from Delphi, and from thence was the necessity of flight and purification determined.* Now, bondage also was formerly one of the condi- tions of purification, and restoration of the fugitive to his native land, as several mythi bear which could ' Strabo, ix. 436 '. * Dor., vol. i. p. 350 ; ii. p. 241. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 243 not be invented in the historical times, for this simple reason, that in these servitude no longer appears. The bondage of Hercules is almost always derived from a deed of bloodshed, and frequently through a Pythian oracle. Cadmus serves because he killed the dragon, in like manner according to a Delpho- Bceotian tradition, a perpetual year too, as ApoUo- dorus says, {aiSidv eviavrov.) Now, the year at that time amounted to eight years. This octennial year is to be found in several mythi — sometimes more apparent and sometimes more latent — ^as an Apol- linian feast-cycle, and, at the same time, as the period of exile and bondage for the blood-stained, the cur- rent expression for which in Greek was ivcavTia-fios and aveviavTi and thrown into the sea. Dictys of Seriphus rescues them from the waves ; but his brother, Polydectes, king of the island, vdshes to take Danae to himself. He pretends that he is going to woo Hippodamia, the daughter of (Enomaus, and calls upon his vassals, on occasion of a banquet, to fit him out for the bridal ' Expos. Serm. ant. p. 168. 2 Coinp. Porphyr. Vita Pytha^.., 16. ' Fragm. 2. p. 72 sqq.; 10. p. 90 sqa. StuM. * II. 4, 1, 2. « P. xii. 11 sqq. « Comp. Shield, 216; Theog., 274; Homer, II., xiv. 3 IS. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 247 journey.^ Now, when he demands a horse from each, Perseus, who was by this time grown up, says to him, as it would seem in anger, that he should have the Grorgon's head. Polydectes takes him at his word, and threaten^ if he fail, that he will take his mother. Perseus undertakes the adventure with the help of the gods. With the shoes of Hermes, and the shield of Aides, he flies invisible over sea and land to Oceanus at the end of the world, where he finds the Gorgons ; and looking only at the reflection of Medusa's petrifying countenance in his shield, succeeds in severing her head from the trunk, and places it in his pocket reversed. But Pegasus and Cfarysaor spring forth from the body. On returning home, he turns Polydectes and his people to stone, and then gives the Gorgoneion to his protectress Athena, who fixes it upon her shield. An extraor* dinary tale of wonder, indeed, which, if told in our times, might well be thought the mere play of a grotesque fancy ; but for higher antiquity that idea is inadmissible. It will scarcely answer to deter- mine at the outset what portion of it is popular tra- dition, and what poetical embellishment. The whole has an equally fantastic and fictitious appearance ; and although we know that the mythus of Perseus was in its native soil at Argos, Mycenae, and Tiryns, still that does not lead us to the interpretation, unless we also learn, besides, what circumstances, relations, and institutions of the ancient Argives, gave rise to the mythus, or cooperated in its creation. If we succeed in determining these, though only in the leading points of the mythus, we can then hope to ' Comp. Welcker, Prometh., p. 381. 248 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD take up more and more threads, and, in the end, to unravel the whole. Now, the main point is mani- festly the cutting off the Gorgon's head by Perseus. With regard to this Gorgonian he&d^ Tdpyei^ Ke(pa>Jt, it can be easily perceived that it was a far-famed bug-bear in ancient Greece. The Fopyoveiov is nearly in the mythus what the ftopfioXvKeta are in later nur- sery tales. Odysseus fears to admit more shades from the infernal world to the blood-drinking, lest Persephoneia might also send forth on him the Gor- gonian head of the terrific monster. The Gorgoneion,' accordingly, was a creature sprung from terror of the gods, who, as experience taught, send evil as well as good. But the Gorgon is almost always in- troduced with reference to Athena. As early as Homer, Athena is armed with "the Gorgonian head of the terrible monster, the dreadful, the appalling, the prodigy of ^gis-shaking Zeus."^ The very mythus which we are examining, closes with saying, that Athena places the Gorgon's head on her segis, and through her also did Perseus accomplish the feat.^ But this cannot weU be a deliberate exten- sion of the legend, a deduction from the rest, parti- cularly for this reason, that the head and blood of the Gorgon figure in the popular legends of various districts, in connexion with the worship of Pallas, without even any mention being made of Perseus. The earth-born Erichthonius, according to the Attic tradition in Euripides,' was said to have received from Pallas two drops of the Gorgon's blood, the one having power to kill, the other to cure. It is told ' II., V. 738. 2 Pindar, P. x. 45. 8 Ion, 1018. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 249 there that Athena herself slew the Gorgon, in the Phlegraean gigantomachy, where the reference to the general battle of the gods may not be the oldest portion of the narrative.^ In like manner, they fancied at Tegea, where there existed from the earliest times a worship of Athena, that they had hairs of Medusa, which the goddess had given to Cephens, the hero of the city,; and which they obly required to show from the wall to a besieging army, in order to scatter it in flight.* Nay, the relation between Athena and the Gorgon is so close, that both are even taken for one mythic form, the god- dess herself being called Gorgon by Euripides,^ and in several other authors. Whence we may venture to conclude, that the Gorgon was imagined to be a hostile FaUas who could sometimes be united with her, as Demeter is called Erinnys, and Persephone Brimo and Daeira, and sometimes regarded as an antagonist being, detested by the goddess herself. The Argive worship of Pallas, therefore, is the leading circunastance in the creation of the mythus. The goddess had her temple beside Zeus Larisss&us, on the summit of the citadel, which was fortified by Perseus with Cyclopean walls. She was thence called Athena 'A/cpto or AKpls.* According to tra- dition, Acrisius himself lay buried in the temple of Acria,* — a coincidence of names too remarkable for me not to prefer the interpretation thereby sug- ' V. 1006. ^ Paus., viii. 47. 4. Apollod., ii. 7. 3, where Hercules forms the connecting link. ' Helena, 1316, and the Frag, of Erechtheus. * Fausan., ii. 24, 4. Comp. Hesych. s. v. 'Axj/a. ' 'Ec Awf/ffoj) Jv rj) dxgowoXe/. Clem. Alex. Protr., p. 20, Sylb. 250 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD gested to any other.^ In like manner, the fable of the taming of Pegasus by Bellerophon, according to Pindar's account, is wholly connected with the sanctuary of Pallas Hippia at Corinth.^ There was also in Seriphus a temple to Athena, where Perseus was said to have been reared.^ On that island, as appears from Pausanias,* he was paid divine honours, as •irdpeSpos of the goddess ;* and, moreover, as the coins of the island almost invariably refer to the Corintho-Argive worship of Pallas, the opinion * is not improbable, that its earlier inhabitants were derived from those regions. If so, then the entire connexion of Seriphus and Argos in the mythus is explained. However much all this may serve to strengthen the position laid down, stiU it does not open for us the way to the explanation of the mythus, because we know nothing yet of the character of that ancient worship of Athena. Now, we may at once assume, that the ideas of the Homeric poesy are here inap- plicable, and that we must rather call to aid the ancient legends of the neighbouring Athenians, which, at all events, give the idea of a deity, through whom the produce of the fields, and the children of men receive nourishment, light, warmth, and increase, growing up and blooming under such benign in- ' Even to that of Welcker's Prometh., p. 387. 2 Comp. Bockh, JS/xpl., p. 218. 3 Hygin., f. 63. * It. 18, 1. 5 For I think that the whole sentence must be read, — e^ei /jLit 6fi ivrauSa, ]jv Mux^vais] ri/jii&s ffagcfe ruv nfgneyjagim, (Lty'KSrai Si i'» n l.e^!, oS y,ai ira^ Mtf)^ negStut re/isfof, ical Ai'xnos xal KKv/dvrx Pu//A( ouT^gm xaihcv/ismv Xlegeius- ^ Of Spanheim, De Praest. Num. i. p. 265. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN, 261 fluences.* Even yet traces of such ideas present themselves in the Argive mythus of Danaus ; and it is a certain rule that we must be so much the more careful in turning all such traces to account the less they harmonize with later ideas. Danaus, the parched field of Argos, suffers through the contest between Poseidon and Athena, until the former im- pregnates his daughter, the fountain Amymone, and fills the lake of Lema ; but, throughout his whole life, he was protected by the goddess, and on this account, even built her at Rhodes a famous sanctuary, which was transplanted into various colonies. Nay, it seems to me clear, that the Rhodian legend of the golden rain of Zeus at the birth of Athena, is nothing else than a transference and modification of the Argive tradition that Perseus was begotten by a golden shower, the latter having been carried over from the mother-city. Now, I think we already see the path we must enter, in the interpretation of the mythus, distinctly traced before us, especially by the main position : Perseus a daemonic being in close union with the ancient Argive Pallas, as a goddess who blessed the land with fruitfulness. His daemonic nature is proved, not only by his wonderful achievements, but also in the clearest manner by the divine worship which he received in Seriphus and Argive Tarsus.^ It is perhaps on account of the latter that ^schylus places the Gorgonian fields in the east, as the Libyan worship of Pallas occasioned another nearly opposite transplantation of the mythus. ' Minerv. Poliad., i. ^ See aboye, p. 173. 252 EXAMPLES OF THE METHOD But in the interpretation itself let us not require an allegorical explanation of every individual feature of the legend, for precisely thereby would its falsity be immediately shown. Only the signification of the main features is to be pointed out ; the rest was afterwards naturally formed on these, just because the whole is a /avOos. The dry sealed up soil in the land of Pallas, Aavatj 'AKpta-iwv^, thirsts for rain, and Zeus, the father of life, descends into its bosom in fructifying, bounteous, and therefore golden shower, in like manner as the cloud in which Zeus embraces Hera, is called in Homer, a golden one from which glittering dew- drops fall/ The child of this connexion is Uepcreiis, an obscure name of which I have seen no satisfactory explanation ; but this much, however, seems to be clear, that Tlepa-ecfjoyeia, the daughter of Zeus by the Earth-mother, is from the same root. Perseus is the favourite of the fruit-producing PaUas, also a merely imaginary, hot an externally-existing being, a Genius Palladis. But the god of the nether world, called the Much-receiver, Hohj^eKTtn also AIktvs, the Catcher, for both brothers probably signify the same thing, wishes to take Aavoj; to himself. The night of chaos and eternal horror is about, to overshadow her. This danger is averted by Perseus delivering the goddess from her anti-type, the dreadful Topylo, through whom the moonbeams become baleful, and the soil is turned to stone. The influence of her look is turned upon the infernal world itself, and its circuit fastened in the deep ; while, at the same time, her full power is restored to the benign ' II., xiv. 351. WHICH HAS BEEN LAID DOWN. 253 goddess, the kindly nurse of seeds and plants. Then spring up the clear and living fountains, of which the horse is the symbol, — as, in general, so Pegasus in particular, who was born at the fountains of Ocea- nus, was caught beside fountains, struck out fountains with his hoofs, in his name also a horse of foun- tains. Polydectes' demand of horses, and then the procuring of one by Perseus, are also a remnant of the symbolical legends. Accordingly, this mythus may be called a physical one — as that previously examined may be called ethical — if we only discard the idea of instruction in the powers of nature. The operations of nature are conceived by a powerful fancy, and introduced into the creed of the deity; and thence arises a daemon- story, which afterwards passed into the heroic mythus. I have designedly avoided too particular references, although even the ancients interpreted in this sense. Thus the Orphici explained the ro^7oV- eiov to be the fades in orbe lunee, with which then Aristotle's interpretation of Pallas as the moon would very well agree ;^ but although this interpretation manifestly suits some expressions of that deity's na- ture, I fear, however, that it still offcener lealves us in the lurch, arid proves too narrow and restricted; and I bring the principles above advanced here also into application.' But the mythus is thoroughly symbolical; and as to its age, some idea may be formed from this, that even in the time of Homer and Hesiod it had become ordinary heroic fable. . ' Clem. Alex., Strom, v. p. 571 *". Comp. Eschenb. Epig., p. 7. 11. ^ Min. Pol., p. 5. sp. ^83. 264 THE FOREGOING THEORY The symbolical character gives it a peculiar repre- sentability, and attracted elder art, which was still able to represent but little by expression and charac- teristic portraiture. Hence, a Gorgoneion, as a work of the Cyclopes at Argos ;^ the Gorgonea, as impres- sions on very old Attic, even Etruscan, coins ; scenes from the combat of Perseus on the coffer of Cypselus,* and among the brazen reliefs of Gitiadas f Perseus cutting off the Chimaera's head, and Chrysaor spring- ing forth, in a very ancient terracotta;* and the rising up of Pegasus, in a relief of a very early style, found at Selinus.* CHAPTER XV. Comparison of the Theories of Others with that which has been Readers who have duly weighed the foregoing sections, may now, it seems to me, find themselves in a twofold situation. To many the theory and mode of treatment which have been presented, will, I hope, have appeared correct; and the conviction arisen in their minds, tbat from a simple consideration of the materials supplied by history, in the first place, obser- ' Paus., ii. 20. 5. ^ ib., v. 18. 1. * lb., iii. 17. 3. * Millingen, Monum, ined. N. 5, 2. s Treatise by Pisani. Compare with reference to the whole of this treatment of the fable, besides the brief notice in the Dorians, vol. i. p. 412, the profound and ingenious views of Volcker in his Mythology of the JapetidsB, p. 200 sqq. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 255 vations which possess general evidence, and then posi- tions of more weighty import, but still at the same time in close connexion with the former, have been here un- folded. Others, on the contrary, who have come to the perusal entertaining \iews considerably at vaiiance with those here presented, have perhaps nowhere found themselves under the necessity of abandoning them, — which must be the case with all those who are no longer conscious to themselves of the ground of their opinions ; but many, perhaps, see through weak- nesses and defects in my method of treatment which have still escaped myself. Both classes of readers may require that I should now also lay before them the views of other inquirers, and point out wherein they differ from mine : the former, in order that they may see whether each theory has not perhaps equal claims to probability; the latter, in order that I may in some measure justify myself to them for present- ing at all, in addition to these theories, a newone of my own. But I must always confine myself to indications merely of what is most characteristic in each theory, instead of indulging in minute exposition or exhaus- tive criticism : the latter, indeed, would be presump- tuous ; and this attempt at a comparison, as conceived in my mind, is certainly not so. As I mean parti- cularly to exhibit the opinions and principles which prevail at the present time, and that, too, in Germany, I shall begin with Heyne, who has at all events given a new impetus to the study, and perhaps also laboured most to advance it ; but it is not my object to make a general and comprehensive survey: and no one must lay particular stress on the circumstance, that only six scholars are adduced, whose ideas of the 256 THE FOREGOING THEORY science presented themselves to me more distinctly and definitely than any others. In conformity with the above explanation, I pass by the Euhemerism of Larcher, Clavier, Raoul-Rochette and Petit-Radel ; perhaps I ought not to do so, if Bottiger^ had already laid down his views in connexion, vdth their proofs methodically arranged. Heyne. (l) The foundation of a mythus is either the report of an event, or a notion of earlier humanity ;^ (2) accordingly, mythi may be divided into historical and philosophical. (3) But the origin of the mythus cannot be conceived, unless we assume that this mode of representation was necessary to a certain' very remote period — that it could not on many sub- jects express itself otherwise than mythically. (4) The mythus, therefore, was the infant language of the race. Poverty and necessity are its parents. (5) Proper expressions, precisely corresponding to the idea, were still wanting to that age. The mind, strug- gling through and bursting forth, felt itself, as it were, straitened and confined.* Accustomed to occupy itself merely with sensible impressions, it sought about for external images ; and thus were ideas, par- ticularly of a religious kind, transformed into symbols and narrations of external events, h The sermo sym~ holicus et mythicus arose. For to cause, they then said to beget, and expressed a host of other relations by the same figure,— and in this way came the c&ncU' bitus deorum into mythology;* and here it is easy ■ Amalthea, i. p. 1 2. ' Commentat. S. G., xiv. p. 143; and elsewhere. * N. Commtr., viii. p. 38. * Commentat., ii. p. 13<5l COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 257 to observe, that the myth-inyenting age did not yet possess the morality and delicacy of a later period/ But the expression became gradually con- founded with the thing ; the error crept in, that these narrations contained actual occurrences, and was fostered by the priests in order to excite greater interest.^ (6) Only those narrations of the most ancient times, which arose from incapacity, can be, strictly speaking, accounted mythi. In interpreting them, we must transport ourselves back into the manner of thought and expression which belonged to that remote period, and not go to work with too much subtlety and ingenuity. The interpretation must content itself with undefined resemblances, inas- much as the mythus frequently unites even things the most diflferent, by an accidental combination of ideas, by an ingenious play of wit. (7) The oldest are the physical, and then the theogonic mythi ; from these were gradually unfolded the worships of the gods, religions.^ (8) Every allegorical personage is called &eo?. (9) The poets, who did nothing more for a long time than relate, embellish, and alter mythi, afterwards made use of them as materials on which they might practise their art, and by which they might attain their end — ^the gratification of their hearers ; as pleasing fancies, {phantasmata ;) (10) they first added to them grace and elegance. The sermo myihi- cus now becomes poeticus : for the poet does not now employ those forms by compulsion, but with discri- mination and perception of beauty. Thus Homer even, in order to adorn his poems, took from older ' Sxe. ad 11., xxiii. p. 565. ^ Comp. Exc. i. ad II., viii. ' Commtt., xiv. p. 148. 258 FOREGOING THEORY cosmogonies and theogonies, fables which were de- vised in order to convey physical doctrines in a sen- sible manner, and related them as actual histories.* (11) To him they were nothing more than splendid and imposing pictures. Hesiod was contented to unite existing and heterogeneous fables into one poem, to arrange these in the best way he could, and to render them attractive by poetical ornament.^ (12) Mythi have been variously disfigured, partly by means of the poets, especially the lyric and dramatic ; partly by the industry of prophets, ciceroni, and sacri- ficial priests; partly by philosophical interpreters, and mythological systems. The mythic expression itself has also varied in different ages : we must there- fore proceed with the utmost caution before we can regard a mythus as restored to its original form. (1 3) And even then the interpretation is stiU very hazard- ous; for an authentic interpretation is not to be expected, as the ancient transmitters already took it for a reality; and those who followed, explained more into than out of it. (14) (1.) "Without being able to promise here the substance of all the mythological writings of Heyne, scattered over a great many years, (they begin with 1763, and continue till 1807,) I have, how- ever, read the greater part in order to write these pages ; the most copious is the last treatise, {Sermonis mythici seu symbolici inter- pretatio ad causas et rationes ductaegue inde regulas revocata, Commentat, S. G. V., xvi.,) which I have therefore not quoted before in detail. (2.) Exactly so above, p. 9 ; in addition to which I only re- mark, that to the myth-creating people of course both appeared as homogeneous, — otherwise they could not have so come together, ^namely, as the statement of actual things in the present or past. (3.) Compare, on the contrary, p. 12. (4.) The fundamental position of the whole inquiry,in myopinion. ' N. Gommtr. viii. p. 34. ^ Commtt., ii. p. 135. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 259 (5.) On the contrary, p. 20. (6.) According to Heyne, therefore, the framers of the mythua knew that the narrations which they communicated were merely form; for example, that there was not, and never had been, a Zeus in personal shape : on the contrary, see p. 50 and 59. In this way, all true faith is really destroyed, and appears as misap- prehension of original enlightenment. (7.) One might greatly misunderstand this, and justify to one's self every interpretation, however foolish. Why might not some one in ancient times have some such notion ? An explanation is certainly so much the better the more it removes the accidental. (8.) On the contrary, p. 60 and 168. (9.) On the contrary, p. 183. (10.) I think that such indifference for the materials is entirely foreign to the ancient Grecian world. Hesiod, Eumelus, &c., certainly took the thing more in earnest. (11.) Compare the views opposed to this in the Appendix on Homer. (12.) Compare, on the contrary, the Appendix on Hesiod. (13.) An excellent principle at all events, only that Heyne has never taken the trouble of exhibiting its application in lengthened investigations. (14.) And yet Heyne has even shown himself at last not alto- gether unfavourable to the purely physical interpretations of the Stoics in Homer. Voss. (1) MS^oj, from which it has been tried to palm off mythus for an emblematic tale, signifies a word, say- ing, relation, and nothing more.^ (2) However, there are doubtless also, in what we call mythology, results of reflection. So soon as man lifted his eyes from the nourishing acorn to the oak, and reflected whence it and himself, the eater, had arisen, the sensible idea forced itself on him, that "Everything had sprung from earth, water, and air, and these from the separation • Antisymb., p. 198. 260 FOREGOING THEORY of a shapeless, confused mass of rude primary mate- rials." Powers so efficacious, he further thought, must contain in themselves an original power, and powers dependent thereon; and these indwelling spirits assumed to him the form of personages in human shape. (3) This is the origin of the mundane fables related by Hesiod and others, and which were in circulation even before Homer.^ He who will call these earliest (4) narrations allegorical, because moral and natural objects appear as acting persons, may do so ; (5) only let him not try to explain every indi- vidual action performed by them as persons from the properties of the original being. Far less, still, can this be permitted in reference to the younger pos- sessors of the ancient dignities of nature, (6) who were gradually elevated from the deified ancestors of the diflferent tribes. (7) They govern in the mani- fold spheres of external and moral nature. They assume, indeed, properties of their administration, as Poseidon of the stormy sea. Aides of the dreadful realm of shadows, &c.; but they are independent personages, acting according to their own caprice and humour. (8) Among the most ancient hordes there were individual and associated teachers of wis- dom, so much wiser than the mass, that they clothed ideas, far more exalted and spiritual than the com- mon mind or language could even seize, in deeply significant emblems for the wondering people.* (9) Secular wisdom and priestcraft — the former with benevolent aim, the latter with cunning design — introduced a more rational meaning into the ancestral forms of adoration ; (10) as notions continued grow- • Mjrth. Briefe, p. 13 sq. » Ibid., p. 15 sq. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 261 ing less rude, they gradually passed over into spiritual ideas of virtue and honesty : the hero and the god rose from physical violence to wise and beneficent power. Homer himself was more godlike than his gods ; but as a layman he dared only touch gently the ancestral ideals of perfection which the sacri- ficer adored.^ He worshipped the gods of Olympus from Thracian (11) tradition; but softened, so far as statutes and popular delusion admitted, the primitive rudeness of the governors of the world, — still half- sylvan Bringers of Good and Averters of Evil. Zeus was the sublimest ruler of the world, as Homer had the boldness to imagine or express him. (12) Thus did the Greeks advance by cultivation from the appre- ciation of brute force to a feeling of the human, the superhuman, the divine. After Homer, echoes of the Mosaic doctrine of the creation, the deluge, the glory of the gods, and man's origin from clay, came through the Phoenicians to Greece, where we find them in Hesiod and the Hymn to Demeter.^ In the interval between Hesiod and the tragic authors, mythology was modified in manifold ways : partly by geographical extension of the ancient heroic adventures ; partly by the admix- ture of foreign with native gods and usages, and the accidental elevation of rude deities of tribes to na- tional gods ; partly by the alterations of sculptors in the form of the gods ; by wise men, who, feeling in themselves a sublimer deity than the daemons of the people, taught the initiated plainly, and the people by indirect interpretation ; and lastly by priests.^ A secret union of Orphici, whose agency became visible ' Myth. Br., p. 15-21. ^ Antisymb.. p. 175. 3 Myth. Br., p. 44. 262 FOREGOING THEORY from the 30th Olympiad, fraudulently engrafted on the faith of Greece a religion miscreated in Phrygia and Egypt, and united, under Darius, with the Per- sian worship of the sun ; — a shocking medley. Olen, Pamphus, Musseus, and Onomacritus, were the active members of this secret fraternity, which tried to turn the light won from Judaea, and through philosophy, after perverting it by the most shameful inventions, to the personal advantage of a greedy priesthood.^ (13) (1.) In the representation of the views of this inquirer, I fear much that I have not always rightly seized his meaning ; for in the Mythological Epistles, as well as in his Antisymbolism, he very seldom lays down positively his ideas of the manner in which mythic narrations arose. I have, therefore, been even obliged, to admit many negations into the above representation, as his true and proper view may, perhaps, be gathered thence. (2.) In the oldest use of the language certainly, although no longer in Plato, Aristotle, and the Alexandrian authors.^ The word is always the oldest and best, to denote the materials of ancient poetry and art, which antiquity, at all events, imagined to be in many respects homogeneous. But for that very reason must the idea be taken so widely, that the emasculation of Uranus, and the adventures of Odysseus, may both fall under it. (3.) Certainly not. Uranus is by no means to Hesiod a Being living in Heaven, in human form, but the entire Heavens conceived as living, active and personal ;' and just so is it with all theogonic beings. Even that is perhaps only a bringing in of new views, that the idea of powers must have boated before the primi- tive man ere he formed out of them divine persons. (4.) On the contrary, pp. 60, 168. (5.) On the contrary, p. G2. (6.) I think, also, that much truth lies in this, only in another sense. These beings have, as objects of worship, that is, as heingi with whom hundreds of thousands were conversant for mMwy centuries, in many different places, and under definite but manifold relations, attained a character whose original foundation ' Antisymb., p. 155, and elsewhere. ' Comp. pp. 1, 44. ' See above, p. 2. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 263 can only with difficulty be unriddled, and are anything but alle- gorical. (7.) Then is religion at once at an end, and there merely remains a sort of philosophy and history: for those primary beings were not (if we do not reckon some insulated and less important usages) objects of worship, and never had been, as can be shown. But according to this view, Zeus and Hera, &c., were human beings. Before their hero-worship was exalted to a god- wor- ship, the Pelasgians, therefore, devoured acorns, and gave themselves little concern about Zeus. But what if 2ii( is nothing else than the full idea of the Divine Being concentrated in a person ? p. 182. (8.) In the poet to wit, and not even that, strictly speaking; as he also must always have had a definite ground for making this god act here, and that there. (9.) Compare the similar view, p. 51. (10.) But how did they spread it abroad, and procure it acceptance ? (11.) Only TO so far as they are Olympian gods, p. 159; or did ZgCj AiiSmtaTos, "Agye/jj "Hgjj, and 'AXaXxo/iswifs 'A^^vri also come to him from thence ? (12.) Not Homer first, see p. 186 ; and as to the rudeness of the Homeric gods, see the Appendix. (13.) Against this position, see the Appendix on the Orphici ; compare the Review of the Antisymholik, in the Gottingen Review, 1825. I know not whether, after all this, I understand aright the meaning of this highly meritorious mythologist ; and would, therefore, only ask if it is really this ? The mythi of Greece — the cosmogonic excepted — were originally relations of actual deeds performed by all sorts of rude, immoral tribe-leaders, who were, however, highly esteemed by their still more barbarous times, and were afterwards partly regarded as deities. It is foolish to look for a meaning in them. The original is a fact that was afterwards taken up by arbitrary poetry, which also gradually fashioned out of those rude tribe- idols whatever it chose, and the times required. If so, then Voss is directly opposed, not only to Heyne and Creuzer, but to all the other inquirers here named. Buttmann. (l) Nothing is more erroneous than to consider the wonderful actions and events of the mythic world as 264 FOREGOING THEORY the accidental offspring of a rich and variously en- dowed imagination going forth in search of the mar- vellous. Of this nature is the invention of our modern tales of wonder ; but it is entirely foreign to that simple and primitive age which invented nothing with design, but merely contemplated, learn- ed, and again figuratively represented. An immense number of such allegorical, and other mythi, were in circulation, and, in process of time, became so united, that by degrees they assumed a causal dependence on one another, and only slight connecting touches, which the muse suggested, were here and there re- quired to form the chain.^ (2) These mythi had arisen in various places, partly in Greece, and partly in the East, as manifold expressions of manifold ancient ideas, originally without any other connexion than that which the mode of thinking which lies at the bottom of them supplied. Insulated legends formed themselves into groups, were transferred into other cycles, and the most heterogeneous materials confusedly mixed up together. (3) That thousand- tongued mythology of the Greeks then knew already how to unite, in outward form, matters that now directly destroy each other, and now are the same ten times over.^ The birth-time of fables in general lies in higher, nay, in highest antiquity, partly even before the separate development of individual nations.* It must not be confounded with the time of the oldest poetical narration, so far as we are concerned, in the interval to which, again, there stretches out a wide field of poetical industry, whose products have ' Berlin Acad., 1814-15, iiber Kronos, p. 168. « P. 169. 5 1816, uber Noahs SbLne, p. 146. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 265 only come to us in fragments through Homer and Hesiod.^ (4) To the later poets, such as the trage- dians, fell merely the task of expanding and deve- loping the traditionary mythi; and it adapted itself to the requisite mode of treatment, and to the kind of poetry.^ In these circumstances, we must not expect that we shall be able to establish and explain every mythological invention. It is best to inquire, in the first place, for the greater and more promi- nent points ; and among the smaller, for those which seem to bear traces of a severed or neglected con- nexion.^ (5) Analogy is an important means of interpretation. A successful analogy gives us assur- ance of the otherwise equivocal aid derived from the explanation of names,* which can alone completely enlighten us as to the true sources f therefore, also, in order to obtain analogies, we must not neglect the comparison either of oriental or northern legends. By such comparison we can go so far as to wrest the legends, so to speak, from the authors through whom we know them, and to separate what they added from the genuine nucleus.® A great portion of mythology now bears an historical impress with- out at all containing history in the strict sense. Natural objects, general ethical ideas, national races and gods, (as has been lately shown in regard to Hippolytus,) stand amidst heroes : down to the so- called expedition of the Heraclidae, there is not a single distinct historical personage; even the history of ' P. 142., 2 gerl. Acad., 1818, iiber Elektron, p. 42. 3 Kronos, p. 1 69. * I. 1818, Verbindungen mit Asien., p. 216; 1820, Minyse, p. 23. ' 1816, Janus, p. 125, ' Noahs Sohne, p. 145. 266 FOREGOING THEORY that expedition was only composed from epically- handled legends at the dawn of scientific history/ The whole of elder Greek history, till about the time of Pisistratus, is but a scientific product drawn from a few monuments, and many legends and epopees, with a criticism which we can no longer revise.^ (6) However, we must carefully separate the period pre- ceding history, in which, perhaps, there was already real though uncertain tradition, — ^thetime to us scanty in deeds from the expedition of the Heraclidae down- wards, — from that rich-streaming fabulous tradition which, with sudden change of character, begins from that point upwards, and in which all chronology is impossible, (7) as here lie only the mythic begin- nings and antiquities of the tribe, composed, not of continuous historical threads, but of mere insulated narrations of deeds and events which contimied to be repeated only on account of the amusement or instruction they conveyed, or the national praises they contained. Nothing historical, generally speak- ing, can be derived with certainty from mythology, except matters of ethnography and geography on a large scale : ^ more minute localities we must not look for, as the earlier home of a legend was quite driven from the memory by a later habitation ;* and what we take for particular tribes, are often per- fectly general designations of more early humanity, as Mivvai, the good men of the olden time, and sometimes national appellatives recurring in many places without any near connexion between them, as Idoves. (8) ' On the AleuadsB, p. 14. ^ Minyse, p. ' Aleuadee, p. 12. * Minyse, p. 15. 28. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 267 (1.) This scholar has, particularly since 1803, done very great service to mythology by separate essays and treatises ; and to him especially is it owing that the mythical is recognised as essentially different from the historical, and that the historical superstition of Gatterer's times is completely exploded. In the above abstract, I have chiefly made use of the last treatises deliv-' ered at the Academy of Berlin, and have even introduced some expressions from his letters. (2.) I would say " excellent and profound views," if that were not egotistical, as they are the same that I have embraced my- self. See cap. 4. Only " figuratively represent" may be wrong ; for I at least hold, that a separate thinking of the figure, and what the figure represents, is not genuinely mythical ; and for a con- tradiction to the wandering about of mythi, see p. 100. (3.) Although I admit that there is much truth in this, still I do not think that so much irregularity prevailed. On the con- trary, 1 feel convinced that certain laws operate in the formation of mythi, and that when the influencing circumstances are known, we can even yet frequently show that the mythus must be so formed. (4.) Certainly very true, if we only acknowledge that even after Homer, mythic invention — mythic in the very strictest sense — continued to be exercised. The most distinct proof of this is furnished by the Cyrenaic cycle of fables. In my opinion, Butt- mann too readily regards every mythus as descended from imme- morial antiquity; e. g., all those which indicate a connexion, between Europe and Asia. (5.) Only I would not, however, as Buttmann does, tear out individual groups from the whole of mythology, as, for instance, Cadmus and Europa, and undertake the interpretation of them. It seems to me, that we must ask. Where were these stories current in Greece about Cadmus ? Assuredly not in Arcadia or Ionia, but in Thebes. What, then, in the relatively oldest times, was the signification attached to them there ? In order to learn this, I have first to investigate the entire connexion in which the name there stands — the spouse, Hermione, (Unity of Love,) the son, Polydorua, (the Bountiful,) the Crops as subjects, and so forth. (6.) Yet I think there is so much iv^hia, especially in the logographers, that we easily see through their mode of procedure, and can soon, from their representation, extract its elements, the legends employed ; and that even in later authors. (7.) A series of events, of which the mythi themselves are the 268 FOREGOING THEORY results, can be often evolved with certainty ; and then an esti- mate of the time, also, may be formed by comparison. Genealo- gies, likewise, although the most widely di£ferent materials are mixed up together, often furnish remarkable chronological hints. Why, for instance, does the tribe-name of Thessalus always stand so far down — as son of Jason or Hercules, while Dorus, Epeus, ^tolus, and Pelasgus are placed high up ? Unquestionably for this reason, that the Thessalians were not much known to the Greeks until shortly before the expiration of the mythic times,^ on chronological grounds therefore. (8.) Against this position I would contend to the utmost, inas- much as I cherish the conviction, that legends for the most part sprang up in a very narrow field, and first by migrations, and then by means of poetry (which was the first common Hellenic posses- sion) became more general. Why is Cadmus only in Thebes and Samothrace ? Why is Athamas, the fugitive from the altar, in Orchomenus, Southern Thessaly and Teos ; wherefore Apollo's purification only in Tempe and Tarrha ; wherefore the mythi of Euphemus in the places inhabited by the same race, Panopeus, Lemnos, Taenarum, Gyrene, and a thousand difierent things of the same kind ? There is no doubt in my mind that the ramification of the Greek nations into countless tribes, the numerous migrations, on the one hand, and hereditary tradition in families and tribes on the other, chiefly contributed to give its form to mythology. Buttmann everywhere tries to obliterate the local ; so that, for example, he has even made use of Pausanias, ii. 29, — a passage already rectified by Clavier, — in order to extend the legend of the Minyans, which had its root in a very restricted locality, over Phocis and Locris ; and, in the end, he takes from the Minyans even their existence as a national tribe j whereby I cannot help thinking that I would deprive myself of the natural key to the explanation of a host of legends. Creuzer. (1) The mythology and symbolism of the Greeks are to be derived, on the one hand, from the helpless condition, and the poor and scanty beginnings of religious knowledge among that people ; and, on the other, from the benevolent design of priests educated COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 269 in the East, or of Eastern origin, to form them to a purer and higher knowledge. Direct communi- cation could not here be employed ; the pure light of knowledge must first be refracted in a corporeal object, in order that it might only fall upon the eye reflected, and in coloured though bedimmed radiance: therefore was it that those instructors of mankind were obliged systematically to speak in figures. (2) Teaching was one-half exhibition and indication, and the other half explanation and interpretation ; but even this, from the abundance of what was to be revealed, was dark and enigmatic. To form symbols, and to interpret symbols, were the main occupations of the ancient priesthood. (3) To the manner of contemplating the world in which symbolism and mythology are rooted, belongs the belief everywhere prevalent in a universal life of things ; the separ- ation of the spiritual and the corporeal, to us so easy, was still quite unknown to the naive mode of thinking peculiar to the early world. That universal necessity from which even the most abstract mind cannot escape, and which leads man to plant himself as the central point of the world, and to view himself as in a mirror throughout all nature, then existed in a twofold degree. (4) Hence, to man every Power became a Person, with the idea of whom was given distinction of sex, begetting and giving birth, love and hate, death and destruction. The most lively personification was a fundamental law. But as the symbol even aims at representing the infinite in the limited sphere of the earthly, — at uniting the world of idea with the world of sense, there is always some incongruity and a superabundance of meaning in 270 FOREGOING THEORY comparison with the expression ; hence the dark and vaguely-hinting nature of the symbol which, follow- ing this tendency, takes on the mystic character, (5) The mythus, falling under the general idea of allegory, (6) derives its origin, sometimes from historical, sometimes from physical causes, and sometimes from merely peculiar, often misunderstood, expressions of the language, (T) but more especially from the wrap- ping of the symbol, and the obscurity of the hiero- glyph. It is often nothing else than a symbol ex- pressed ; and the older it is, so much the more are they allied. (8) In general it is divided into two main branches, transmission of the deeds and events of the early world, and the enouncement of thoughts, which it has been tried to define by the very inap- propriate name of philosophemes, (Theomythia would have been a more fitting expression.) What have been so called, are manifold convictions and doctrines on God, humanity, and nature ; but in all of them the religious central point cannot fail to be recognised. These elements, however, very seldom appear un- mixed, but run into each other, and are united in the most diversified combinations.^ Now, in conformity with what is said above, a mass of symbolical and allegorical inventions, derived from the East, lie at the bottom of the Greek mythus, — an ancient theolo- gical poesy, the preservation of which, from the nature of its contents, was a duty incumbent on the priest- hoods of Greece.^ (9) These inventions had come to the Greeks without difficulty ; as Greece, in more ancient times, was, so to speak, a part of the East ; and as to ' From the Introduction to his Symbolik. ^ Briefe an Hermann, p. 55. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 271 the Greek nation and nationality, they cannot he said to hare existed till the tenth century before Christ.'^ 0°) But in Greece, that theological mythology grew up together with the heroic legend ; so that, for example, Hercules, the god of the fighting Sun, became united in the mythus with princes, who served him and re- presented him at fegtivals.^(ll) But, originally, it everywhere bore one and the same character, con- sistently sustained, that of a pure monotheistic primitive religion.* (12) A comparison with the oriental basis, and a feeling for mythic intuition, should, by means of internal as well as external activity, bring to light this one and universal char- acter ; this is the business of the mytTiologist. Gy (1.) As this scholar has himself so minutely developed his sys- tem, I may here restrict myself to merely a few cursory remarks. (2.) It is easy to see how much there is here in contradiction to the theory laid down in this work. First, the assumption of a determinate design in the formation of mythi ;* then, the supposi- tion of a doctrine contained in the mythus, and unmythically thought previous to being veiled j' further, the opinion that there was an order of priests exalted above the laity in point of know- ledge f moreover, the notion that the Greeks had received their mythi from without, already partially fonned,^a notion in support of which neither Ceerops, Danaus, nor Cadmus,' nor even the coincidence of some symbols,® can be brought forward. Here I shall merely remark, that in this way, however, the mythus, aa the necessary and universal form of the earliest communication of ideas, is not eieplained, (which, as we have already said, can only at all be done by the history of the human mind in general ;) for must even, for instance, paradise, the tree of knowledge, the deluge, &c., be comimunications to the Hebrews from a more highly cultivated people ? Even Creuzer himself acknowledges pictur- esqueness and figurativeness of speech, as in itself a mode of ex- ' Briefe an Hermann, p. 28. ^ Ibid., p. 40. ^ Ibid., p. 96. * See above, p. 50. ' On the contrary, p. 195. ^ On the contrary, p. 188. ' See above, p. 114 sqq. * See above, p. 219. 212 FOREGOING THEORY preseion absolutely necessary to early antiquity ; and was it, then, not so to the priests likewise ? (3.) Symbols could scarcely be otherwise interpreted than by mythi, to which the hgol \6yoi also belonged ; and here X6yos was the term employed so early as the time of Herodotus, merely be- cause /itJSos was the current expression for the legend adorned by the poets. But there could not be an authentic interpretation of symbols derived from the framers of them themselves ; because the symbol likewise, to the time which produced it, was the necessary expression of thought or feeling, and by no means chosen to re- present it with freedom and design. Compare above, p. 197- (4.) Compare what is said in the same sense, p. 208. (5.) Compare p. 205. (6.) On the contrary, p. 54. Mythus and allegory are ideas lying far apart, growing in a different soil, and appearing in dif- ferent epochs of mental cultivation. The mythus thinks as it speaks, but the other aXKo f/kv a/yopiii, aXKo h\ wiT. (7.) Compare p. 171 sq. There is also in the mythus, as has been remarked above, very frequently an error, a pure miscon- ception : thus, for instance, I think that even the shoulder-eating of Pelops arose from u/i(Kpov/ia. (8.) Precisely so, above p. 205. I would only remark further, (if I must be the first to remark it,) that even the religious mythus by no means sprang always from the symbol as explanatory and interpretive, but was often quite an immediate expression of the idea. Thus it is a pure mythus, when it is recorded as an event in time that God created man, but it rests merely on the pre-sup- position of personal relations : in this there is nothing symbolical. (9.) This theological poesy is to Creuzer what the religious mythi, related at particular sanctuaries in the districts of Greece, are to the author of this work. (10.) A position which I cannot possibly concede. — Pelasgians, Dorians, Achseans, &c., like the Goths, Saxons, and Franks, were a nation in their physical and spiritual nature, in language and manners, long before they represented this unity in a common name or in a national state ; they were so from immemorial ages, many centuries before Homer, whose most minutely consistent portraiture could not have been produced amid a medley of hetero- geneous things. (11.) The enigma of the union of belief with fact is scarcely solved in this way, for in that case there must have been kings, Zeus, Apollo, and Poseidon, who only existed in the imagination of Euhemerus. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 273 (12.) Compare p. 182 sq. (13.) Although I admit that there is much truth in this, yet therefore is mythology still an historical science like every other. For can we call a mere compilation of facts history? and -must we not, in every field of the science of history, ascend on the ladder of facts to a knowledge of internal being and life ? Hermann. (1) The mythus is the figurative representation of an idea.-^ (2) Mythology must be the science which teaches us what ideas and conceptions lie at the bot- tom of certain emblems among a given people, (3) — the history of mythi.^ As regards the materials and contents of mythology, there are in the treatment of them four views possible, which we may call the poetical, the historical, the philosophical, and the theological : of which the first is not to be proved ; the second remains problematical, unless the third or fourth find the key — that is, determine what in my- thology cannot be set down as idea, and therefore is matter of fact, (4) ; the two others have much in their favour. There is no doubt that all these four views are at the same time correct, if we only com- prehend what they seek for in mythology in one sole correct and fixed idea — -that of wisdom, or collective human knowledge. But this was anciently alto- gether in the hands, of the priests. Fear, horror, amazement, had given rise to belief in beings of super- human power. ^ Of this belief those availed them^ selves who by their knowledge and talents rose to be priests — that is, mediators between the people and the gods. By observation of nature, they gradually • Wesen der Myth., p. 5. « Ibid., p. 11. ' Ibid., p. 30. T 274 THE FOREGOING THEORY acquired a certain scientific cultivation; they conceived what to the people was inconceivable, hut presented it in figurative language, which the people, together with their bards,^ took literally, and as an object of faith ; but, in reality, understood it as little as if it were a foreign language.^ (6) Hence, then, the theological view is the exoteric ; the philosophical the esoteric : the former that of the people, the latter that of the wise men. Now, the first and most important problem of philosophy is to discover the cause of all phenomena, in which investigation it goes upwards, and reaches an ultimate cause in moral and physical nature ; but downwards it finds historical circumstances and re- lations, the genealogies and migrations of nations ; there it becomes in derivative form religion, and also by disfigurement, mysticism:^ here, it passes over into history ; filling up a void on both sides with hypo- theses, it loses itself in inventions.* This cycle of knowledge must now be communicated in a way that would be on the one hand figurative, and yet be free from the fiuctuation and unsteadiness of figures, be- cause confusion would thereby be introduced into every department of knowledge. The symbolical and allegorical were not adapted to this purpose, but merely the personifying representation, which, in- deed, still bears in itself the poetical character of ancient speech ; but inasmuch as it describes the ob- ject by its predicate, (at the same time that identity of the predicate, indeed, does not denote identity of the thing, ^) it makes definite and certain knowledge possible." This, therefore, is the necessary and essen- ' Wesen der Myth., p. 56. ^ Ibid., p. 32 sqq 5 Comp. p. 137 sqq. * P. 39. * P. 125. « P. 47. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 275 tial fonn of mythology. (6) Accordingly, then, my- thology, and, indeed, not merely theogonic but heroic mythology, is to be explained — on the supposition of a connected system of public knowledge, (7) — without reference to popular belief, which took for gods what was not meant for such.^ It is to be explained merely from the words, inasmuch as the inquiry is as to what the given predicates signify in the language, — therefore, by means of etymology. (8) Now, the fact that a regular system of knowledge actually results from this procedure, and that the method of explana- tion can be everywhere carried out, is sufficient proof of its correctness. (9) It is to be admitted, however, that beside the eldest mythology, which merely per- sonified, a younger allegorical mythology placed it- self ; to which, for instance, belong Hercules, fame- acquiring Virtue, and the whole Trojan war. (10) (1.) This learned man, although he only began to occupy him- self with mythology since 1817, must yet here receive particular Consideration, because he has in an especial manner endeavoured to lay down the general principles of the science ; partly in both the programmes DeAntiq. GrcBcorum Mythologia and De Historia GrcBCce primordiis ; partly in the Brief e an Creuzer, and the iSchluss-brief " Ueher das Wesen wnd die Behandlimg der Myth- ohgie" (which is here particularly made use of,) besides various other prefaces and notes written since that time. (2.) To me it does not seem right to begin with so arbitary an idea in an historical science. In order that we may be able to say what is iMki in general, we must rather set out from the given materials, and be satisfied, at first, with quite a formal definition. Comp. above, p. 1. (3.) Comp. the agreement, p. 220. (4.) But we can also, however, by setting out from acknow- ledged and certain history, discover the historical even in inytho- logy ; and the correctness of a theory does not, by any means, 1 Comp. p. 101. 276 THE FOREGOING THEORY rest merely on its adaptability to explanation, as Hermann says, p. 1 5. Oomp. above, p. 7- (5.) Against this manner of explaining the origin of religion, see p. 1 76 ; against an order of priests, with its separate knowledge, see p. 188 ; against the whole system, which makes of these ancient teachers either selfish impostors or perverse men, who, instead of teaching, led into error, see p. 51. (6.) Only necessary if the creators of mythi held themselves the things to be personal ; which, however, Hermann himself does not by any means believe. (7.) See, on the contrary, p. 13. (8.) Comp. p. 231. (9.) Much, rather, of the ingenuity displayed ; or does Hermann believe in the very consistent and well-connected system of Dupnis? (10.) Hermann, therefore, unhesitatingly ascribes to the theogo- nic a higher antiquity than to the heroic legend. But if the idea of aXXtiyopii is applicable to either of the two, it certainly is to the former. Welcker. (1) At the bottom of Grecian mythology lies a hier- archical system of nature ^ as its oldest portion, — a connected chain of contemplations and speculations on Nature, which was preserved in an ancient priestly mode of expression, but now lies broken and scat- tered through the whole of mythology. (2) This system is still preserved, particularly in the names, which already appear in Homer as the remains of an earlier world ; but all represent the chief objects of the religions of nature, and the chief attributes of the divine Being, and therefore the explanation of names is, at all events, one main business of the my- th ologist. (3) Many of the names, however, do not ad- mit of being well explained from the Greek language; they belong to a time when the distinct individual nation was not yet formed ; but another class is satis- ' Appendix, p. 258. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 277 factorily explained from the Greek. To try and derive them from a foreign language, is an error which throws everything into confusion. Every people forms its hieratic and poetic names, and makes to itself, as it were, a system of such names for its native religion, for all higher and free contemplations. They are its oldest thoughts and inventions.^ But the names themselves, like the images, through misapprehension, produced polytheism and superstition. In a multi- plicity of genii, as it were, the divinely creating and nourishing principle was originally adored as one and a whole ; time, chance, and misuse, tore asunder what was united, and then it remained incompre- hensible and purely magical. From an originally pantheistic hymn, there are unfolded (while families, ranks, and tribes, separate, and even in this respect divide among themselves the great common posses- sion, — the natural features of the places where they dwelt, and difference in views and embellishments, likewise producing their effect) a host of gods who spread themselves over the land.^ From simple images of natural things, invention passed on to legends and popular tales, which, on every modifi- cation or expansion, lost more and more of their original signification, and often scarcely preserved a vestige of it f especially when, through alterations in the worship, beings deprived of their godhead, as often happened, fell to the tribe-legend, and were now regarded as personal historical characters. In that case, it is an undoubted rule, that the signifi- cancy is the more ancient, the personality of a later » Appendix, p. 255. = Ibid., p. 344 sq. ' Prometh., p. 132. 278 THE FOREGOING THEORY date.^ The character of eldest science which was clothed in riddles (4) expresses itself in that figura- tive manner of representation, and the whole receives the form of a popular tale. Already in this form such narratives then come into the poems of Homer and Hesiod ; and if sometimes the bard seems still to re- tain a consciousness that he is relating a priestly riddle of the olden time,^ in other places, however, a real misapprehension of the original legend cannot be mistaken. (5) (1.) The nearer in many points the method of this inquirer stands to mine, the more must I restrict myself to the selection of some insulated characteristic features of his theory, which I hare gathered chiefly from his last writings, the Appendix to Schwenk, the work on Cadmus, and the Prometheus. (2.) I would not, however, call it a system, in any other sense than because in most ptCrts one mode of thinking and contemplating reigns throughout ; in other respects, I imagine the formation of mythi to have been separate from the very first. Of this, how- ever, enough has now been said. (3.) Comp. p. 224. (4.) On the contrary, see p. Ill, and frequently. (5.) It seems to me, however, that the dispute as to whether Homer and Hesiod understood or not what they tell us, (of which also so much has been said in the Correspondence between Hermann and Creuzer,) rests on a misapprehension of the laws according to which mythi themselves have been formed. Here it is always assumed that an earlier poet and sage had designedly veiled clearly- conceived ideas in symbols and allegorical mythi : that these were afterwards, from misapprehension, adopted as actual facts, and so repeated. But if it is admitted that the mythic and symbolic expression was necessary to the mjrth-creating ages, it follows that the mythic and symbolic mode of thinking was so likewise, because any other, for instance, occupation with clear intellectual notions, powers of nature, for example, and the like, (if the idea of power is at all clearer than that of an indwelling Saiucov,) must have also immediately created its language. Consequently, those * Prometh., p. 133, and elsewhere. ^ Ibid., p. 151. COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 279 times imagined all circumstances and relations of deity, nature, and humanity, as if stamped on individual personages and signi- ficant actions. Accordingly, what now appears to us as misappre- hension, was in the mythus from the very beginning, and never came there ; although it is, indeed, true that the expressed mythus, the farther back the time of its creation lay, so much the less ex- cited the same feeling, the same idea out of which it had arisen, and that thereby its proper signification always disappeared more and more, particularly when it was torn from its native soil and transplanted to foreign circumstances. The form remained and stiffened J the spirit which had caused it to spring forth, had fled. The ancient Argive, believing in his gods, Zeus and Hera, as the sources of every blessing, observed an actual union of the pair in the season when the seed quickens and germinates. Zeus and Hera embraced, and the thoroughly personal conception of this marriage begat a numerous progeny of child-like and naive cere- monies and mythi. The bard of the Iliad, also, hears the story as a formed and widely-circulated mythus, without reference to a definite season or to nature at all; he weaves it into his poem where, from its singularity, it must be handled in a somewha,t sportive manner ; the golden dropping cloud remains, and the earth grows green, and sends forth shoots ; but the motive for the former is the wish for concealment, and for the latter the want of a soft couch. The bard, however, has still, perhaps, at the same time a certain feel- ing of the significance, which is only entirely lost in sheer Euhe- merism. The history of Agamemnon's sceptre, detailed with truly Hebraic simplicity, is no allegory on the supreme sway of the Pe- lopidsB, but an expression of belief that the skeptron with which these shepherds of the people ruled over Argos must have come from the king of kings ; and this belief is entertained by Homer as well as the original inventor of the mythus. The more the author of the foregoing Treatise compares the theories which have just been presented in some of their general features, and considers how widely they differ from each other ; and how, never- theless, the authors of them, all thinking and learned 280 THE FOREGOING THEORY men, arrived at a firm conviction of their truth ; the less does he feel himself entitled to pronounce sweeping judgments, or disposed to reproach any of them with their theories, as those now most readily do who bor- row a few bold assertions and propositions on things which they have never themselves thoroughly con- sidered, in order to attack with these weapons every one who will not follow the same banner. But such a comparative view begets not only greater indul- gence to others, but greater severity to one's self ; and he who compares is involuntarily led to examine what it was that obliged him to treat the subject exactly in such a way ; nay, it may turn out that a strong feeling of dejection will arise from it, and at least many a sanguine hope of external success be damped. However, from such comparisons, which he frequently undertakes, the author always comes back again to these inquiries with calm and untrou- bled spirit, inasmuch as he derives comfort from two sources in particular. First, The meeting and coin- ciding with other inquirers labouring independently in the same field, — a circumstance which not unfre- quently happens, and is always welcome. In this respect, the appearance of Volcker's book, so fre- quently referred to in these sheets, was especially gratifying to him : there are even here, indeed, still some points in dispute, as the critique in the Got- tingen Review for 1825 does not conceal; but in most cases he found his own paths carried farther out, or new ones opened up, which he had no less pleasure in treading, and this with so much the greater satisfaction, as Volcker's talent and learning every- where testified clearly to his vocation as a mytholo- COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 281 gist. But that peace and confidence are still more restored by the peculiar feeling which attends the investigation, of always finding new paths and glades in the chaotic confusion which reigns throughout the mass of transmitted mythi. In truth, this feeling, in the brighter hours of life, is not a selfish one ; the science is too large and comprehensive to promise general fame to the individual labourer : this genera- tion even will hardly complete the fabric ; and when perhaps much that has been first explained in these pages belongs to the science, the pages themselves will have been long forgotten, and replaced by works incomparably better. And altogether, who would quarrel here about greater or less degrees of merit, when all calculation on this point is for the present nearly impossible ? for one inquirer, who carries out even the most decided error with talent and energy, may have thereby advanced the development of the science more than another, who, with indolent mind, recognises and adopts a truth lying close at hand. Let him who shows knowledge of the subject, ho- nesty, and zeal, have his own way ; and he who does not possess these qualifications, although the surge of party-spirit may raise him for a moment, soon sinks, however, back to his own level. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. On the relation which Homer, Hedod, and the Orphici, hear to elder Tradition. In this Appendix I bring together some points, which I could neither introduce into the exposition of my mytho- logical method, nor yet leave altogether unnoticed; the latter for this reason, that precisely on these points are the most opposite, and in part the most extraordinary, notions abroad ; which, nevertheless, those who adhere to them treat as established truths, and therefore declare war against every scientific striving which does not merely confine itself to the outside. On the other hand, mythology will not be enabled to treat these points with perfect clearness until many others are first thoroughly investigated ; at present, to confess it freely, there is no point in the whole science more obscure than this, for example. What did Homer receive from older tradition ! what alterations had mythi already undergone ? what changes did he take the liberty of making I &;c. What will be here given is merely a contribution : I will only speak of matters on which I think I have obtained some light. Indulgence, therefore, must be granted to their disjointed and aphoristic form. HOMER. When we consider the endless detail of occurrences, and the immense number of persons that figure in the Iliad and Odyssey, we can scarcely persuade ourselves that the poet received all this from tradition. Were the hundreds whom 286 APPENDIX. his principal heroes slay, and who are never named until they have fallen, all handed down to him in legends ? Could he not have invented them as well, for instance, as the names of the Phseacians referred to above ? ' And yet, perhaps, in most cases we must assume such a transmission. First, for this reason, that the free invention of unmeaning names, which those of the slain almost always are, would be an occupation as unworthy of the bard as the application of those other names is happy and ingenious. Secondly, because those notices often preserve a connexion with each other, which could scarcely be the result of arbitrary inven- tion. For instance, is there not an obvious agreement in this, that Oresbius, with variegated mitra, a man who hoarded well his wealth, dwelt in the thriving town of Hyle, on the lake Cephissus,^ and that there also was estab- lished the excellent leather-cutter Tychius, who made for Ajax his gigantic shield!^ Can we imagine this to have been invented? Further, the names are often evidently national, as Amisodarus, Maris, and Atymnius,* names of a Lycian family not of Greek origin, which must be accounted to have been of the Milyan or Solyman race. The circum- stance that the last of these names is also, in the form of Atymnus, found in Cretan Gortyna, admits of a satisfac- tory explanation from the ancient connexion between the continent and the island. We see clearly in other names, that although they never denoted individual persons, still they do not owe their formation to the poet, but to tradi- tion. Thus, there appears once a son of Priam, called Gor- gythion,' who is evidently nothing else than a Gergithian with the patronymic form, (0/ Tijy;&£s thence Te^yi^imes or, by the easy exchange of sjy for ogy, Togyu^luvn,) and there- fore a hero formed from the name of a city, according to the mythic practice. Just in the same way, even the ancients remarked,^ that Kebriones, the bastard son of Priam, whose name so frequently occurs, is connected with Cebrenia, a Trojan city among the hills. Kej8j;o>)js is probably come, by ' P. 226. « n., V. 709. * n., vii. 221. * II., xvi., 317 sqq. « II., viii. 302. « See Strabo, xili. 697. APPENDIX. 287 epic transposition, from KsjS^vjviiig ; and he is perhaps called bastard because the town, which was situated at the boun- dary, was not Trojan at all times. All this, and many other things, convince me that Homer drew from an exceed- ingly rich, full-streaming fountain of traditions. He was, indeed, separated by centuries from the time to which tradi- tion itself relates ; he depicts a remote and wonderful age, in which gods held intercourse with men as their equals ; and although the heroes who contended around Troy have not yet, through growing adoration, and from being blended with originally daemonic beings, been exalted to demi-gods, yet they are widely different from men " as they now are." Immediately behind stands a still more gigantic race, among whom the colossal form of Hercules towers like a mountain, and all is already strange and marvellous. But, neverthe- less, an immense mass of traditions, all of course modified according to the character of the mythus, may have been saved over from that time,' if we consider that the trans- mission of mythi was then almost the chief mental acti- vity; that the memory of men possessed a strength of whieh we can now form no conception; that the ancient reigning families still existed for the most part, (Pelopidse in Lesbos, Nelidse in Ionia, JEacidas in Epirus ;) that the victorious Achseans, not long after the war, took into their possession the coast on which they had then contended ; and that the bard of the Iliad, doubtless, lived where the scene of his poem is laid. Many things may have been re- lated in these regions by the remnant of the Teuorians on Ida, and the Grecian inhabitants of ancient Troy ; and all these may have been drawn into the stream of tradition, and mingled with it, before this great war of gods and men could be sung by Homer. In the mass of legends which Homer inherited, it is natural to suppose that many an historical relation was de- ' Comp. Od. iii. 113. 288 APPENDIX. faced and disguised by a subsequent order of things, while others were preserved by tradition, but so as that the bard himself could not perceive their true foundation and con- nexion. An example of both. Like the people of all the other districts of Greece, the BcEotians, also, must assist in besieging Troy. But these Boeotians in the poet are not the ancient inhabitants of the country, they are the Boiurol AioXsTg, who did not until after the Trojan war, and amid great revolutions, subdue that district, which had been previously Minyan, Cadmean, and Thracian. Nevertheless, not merely the Catalogue — in which I have already elsewhere suffi- ciently taken notice of the additions of Argive, Rhodian, and Attic rhapsodists — but also the Iliad,' boldly represents the Boeotians, who otherwise often come upon the scene, as dwelling in the country afterwards called Boeotia.^ The following is an example of the other kind: Among the European allies of the Trojans, the Pasonians at the very first glance strike us by the great distance from which they come. The Thracians of the Hellespont, and the Ciconians,* do not even form the link which connects them, for many other tribes still intervene. The riddle is solved by the very credible account of Herodotus; that previous to the Trojan war a swarm of Teucrians crossed over to Europe, passed through Thrace, and left behind the Pseonians on the Axius.* Homer knows the result of this, the continued connexion of the Trojans and Pseonians, although he men- tions nothing of the historical ground, not even the name of Teucrians, which comprehended them all in common. The Pseonians had become to him entirely legendary. Their hero, Asteropea, is descended immediately from Pelegon; because the Pelagonians were a branch of the Paeonians,^ and Pelegon is a son of the great river Axius.^ ' V. ro9. ^ Comp. Orchom., p. 394 ; and Buttmann on the Aleuad., p. 12. ^ II., ii. 844 sqq. ♦ Herod., v. 13 ; vii. 20, 75, ^ Mannert Geogr, vii. p. 487. « See II., xxi. 140 ; Comp. ii. 848; xvi. 287. APPENDIX. 289 The most I'emarkable part of it is, that the wife of Axius is called a daughter of Axsgsa/isvig, the Healer. It is clear that this name came into Mythology as a synonym of Uaiii , the^ healing god, and, therefore, owes its existence to a decidedly false interpretation of the name of the tribe. A consideration of the worships which appear in Homer, as peculiar to families, leads to corresponding results. The deities, indeed, are very often invoked without a foundation in particular religious usages, but merely on account of the agency ascribed to them. Thus, Athena is, on numberless occasions, the suggester of prudent resolutions, and the defender of the chief Grecian heroes, and it is tolerably cer- tain that she had already been so in ante-Homeric bards.' But just as often heroes are protected by the gods, because their tribes and families worship them. Hera guides the Argo through the Planctse, because she was friendly to Jason, says the Odyssey.^ She was the goddess of lol- chus.5 I have pointed out in another place,* that Apollo takes the ^Eneadse and Panthoidse under his special pro- tection, because both families worshipped him. Virgil represents Panthus as priest of Apollo ; probably following Arctinus, certainly an ancient tradition : for Polydamas, the son of Panthus, knows the past and the future evi- dently for that reason ; ® and when a hostile chief tries to slay him, Polydamas escapes by the help of the god : " for Apollo did not allow the son, of Panthus to perish among the warriors in the front."* For the same reason must Buphorbus, another son of Panthus, forwarding the work of Apollo, run Patroclus through the body. He who does not here see connexion, can see it nowhere. It is no objection, that Euphorbus is afterwards slain without Apollo saving him, and that another Panthoide also dies ; ' surely 1 See above, p. 162. = XII. 72. 3 gee Orchom., p. 267. * Dor. i. p. 260. " II. xviii. 250; Comp. xii. 210. « XV. 520. ' II. xiv. 616. U 290 APPENDIX, plenty of the friends and descendants of the gods fall without their being able to assist them. " If such a conclusion" (from the protection of the gods to the worship) " were admitted, the aged Nestor must have been a son of Poseidon, for Poseidon in a similar way defends Antilochus in battle,'"' is an objection which some one has made to this position, while he has in all ignorance and innocence pointed out a parallel to that example which I prefer to any other. The Nelidse to whom Antilochus belonged, had certainly a gentile worship of Poseidon ; and of this. Homer, mythology, and history, are full. Neleus is the son of Poseidon;^ on his son Periclymenus, Poseidon bestowed the gift of transformation;' Neleus, with the Pylians, offers up, on the sea-shore, a hecatomb to Posei- don,* in the region where stood, in later times, the famous temple of the god Samicon.^ In this family there is also connected with the service of the SsJs 7u-*/os particular attention to the rearing and managing of horses.' After this who can doubt why it is that the god guards Antilo- chus from the arrows of the Trojans which fly around him on all sides. The way in which many learned men try to extract all religion from Homer is altogether extraordinary. As if Homer did not know the worship of the gods in the fullest sense of the word, — -gentile rites, state sacrifices, expiatory sacrifices, purificatory sacrifices, and ablutions, besides prophetic families, such as the Melampodidse.' His Troy is well provided with priests ; besides the priestess of Athena, there are named priests of HephsBstus, of Sca- mander, and of Idsean Zeus,* who were honoured as gods among the people ; moreover, Hector, as son of the king, oifers up sacrifice on the citadel and Mount Ida in behalf of the community. That Homer nowhere meations so 1 II., xiii. 564. ^ Qd., xi. 263. ' Hesiod in the Eosse. See Dor., vol. i. p. 640. * Od., iii. 6. ^ Map of the Peloponnesus in " The Dorians." ^ See II., xxiii. 307. ' See Od., XV. 226. ^ n^ y_ 10, 77 ; vi. 300 ; xvi. 604. APPENDIX. 291 salutary an institution as that of expiation for blood, (unless II., ix. V. 499, may even refer to this,) does not justify any general conclusion. How very differently, we venture to say, would religion, in this particular, appear in his poem, if he had composed it in Crete, or in the neighbourhood of the Pythian temple, which he only mentions three times, although he, nevertheless, speaks of it as a sanctuary already rich and far renowned I Why the mystic deities, Demeter and Dionysus, figure so little, has been already discussed ; ' to me it seems, that in this we must admire Homer's artistic skill, and the feeling for what is right and fitting which was inborn in the Greeks. But above all, we have here to repeat the remark that Homer, like the bards before him, stands on a particular insulated spot of Greece, and views the gods as they presented themselves to him from that point. There comes to him in ceremonies, in names, in mythi, the idea of a god which was formed centuries before, in some district of Greece ; the bard tries to unite it as he best may with the rest of his faith and knowledge, and to conceive a definite notion of the being, though in his nature many-sided and variously significant. Sometimes we see very plainly how this poetical idea is only formed in his mind by degrees to proper distinctness, especially in the case of Hermes. For it cannot but be observed that the idea of this god still fluctuates extremely in the Iliad. He is called the Bounteous (eghvmg,) the Giver of Good (diircai lawii,) the strong Argus-slayer (xgarDs 'Ajysi- ^ovrijs,) the Powerful ( gaxog .) Cunning works are also ascribed to him ; but he is only, properly speaking, the servant and messenger of Zeus, the constant bearer of his commands, in the last Book of the Iliad, which was of later composition, and throughout the Odyssey ; for the adjective dt&xTope,^ which has various meanings, scarcely justifies a conclusion. On the contrary, th& mythi which we find in the Iliad regarding Hermes, still represent him entirely as the god who blessed the land with fertility, ' P. 67. ^ Iliad, xxi. 497. 292 APPENDIX. which was his attribute in the original worship ; for in- stance, that which says that he favoured Phorbas (Grazier,) the Rlch-ln-herds, more than all the Trojans, and loaded him with wealth,^ and that more detailed one^ which re- lates that the beneficent god loved the daijghter of Phthio- tian Phylas, lloXv/t,fiXjj, the Possessor of many Herds, and by her had Eudaigos, Riches, whom the aged Phylas fos- tered and brought up in his house — quite a significant local mythus, but which is here related, like others, in the usual tone of heroic mythology. From the times of the earliest philosophers of Greece, the undignified and scandalous stories about the gods, in Homer, have, times without number, proved a stumbling- block, which many have attempted to remove by interpre- tations that are, to say the truth, just as forced, frigid, and unsuitable as the denial of all significance is absurd. I think that a consideration of the following points will eon- tribute to the solution : — First, It is to be taken into account that Grecian faith, in one direction, sets out from experience. The gods hold sway in nature and human life. But a systematic dualism, a separation of the world into a good and a bad half, is not known at least to most of .the worships. Now, the belief, indeed, was very old, that this world also was as it ought to be, that the deity ordered everything for the best — the belief in the Themis of Zeus. But, in individual cases, there is so much contradiction, so much disorder and dis- ease in actual life, that even the world of gods could not possibly maintain itself in its pure elevation. Hence, suf- fering, fighting, wandering gods perhaps belonged at all times to the religious creed of the Greeks. More confusion was wrought by the conflict between the mystic and mythic tendencies already spoken of.' The mystic representation, as its great aim is to express some- ' Iliad, xiv. 490. 2 Ibid., xvi. 179. ' P. 185 sq. APPENDIX. 293 thing remote and strange to man, cared very little about the indecent, which, on the contrary, first becomes very striking in the mythic representation. In the latter, Zeus was no longer, as in the ancient Argive legend, the blessing of heaven streaming down in the rain-shower, but alto- gether a personal, individual ruler of the gods ; and Homer, therefore, cannot describe his passion for Hera on the moun- tain-top without a slight tone of pleasantry. But, thirdly, the mythic expression of that olden time had an innocent nawete and raciness which must have ap- peared strange and unbecoming to a later age. The expres- sion of so many relations by generation and descent espe- cially comes under this remark ; and this was the cause of so many love aflFairs among the gods, whose marriages fur- nished a favourite subject to the later poets, among whom the child-like feeling which had brought the gods into so immediate contact with man, had long disappeared. Moreover, regard must be had to the different light in which different gods presented themselves to Homer. He, doubtless, considered to be gods all beings that were worship- ped as such : from the worship antiquity always inferred the reality. But the voluptuous worship of the Cyprian Aphrodite could not possibly give him so dignified an idea of that deity as that of Zeus, Apollo, or Athena. Homer would scarcely have represented the love of Ares and • Aphrodite in so playful a manner if the mythus had not ' come to him from a distance, probably from the sacred Thebes, as an insulated and dissevered narration. The treatment of earlier poets, also, who had stood on some one-sided point of view, produced a determinating influence on the characteristic features of Homer's gods. Why, I would ask, is Hera, the great mother of Nature and goddess of marriage at Argos, so morose and vindic- tive a woman in Homer? The poet doubtless thought that this was her character. The impression, as we can scarcely help perceiving, had come to him through the mythi and poems regarding Hercules, in which the "Hjas p^oXos was the obstructing principle. In my opinion, she had 2M APPENDIX. already the same character before, in the legends which re- ferred to the birth and combats of Apollo ; and here reli- gious relations lay at the bottom. These legends gained the ascendancy over others where Hera appeared friendly, benignant, loving, as in the my thus of Jason; their im- pression always floated before Homer ; and therefore it was even here belief in the prevailing tradition which de- termined the treatment of the poet. Even the circum- stance of her not being always complaisant to Zeus is, perhaps, derived from earlier religious legends which had represented her as a coy bride. To this I would likewise add, that a certain tendency to sport with sacred things, such as we frequently find among strictly religious nations, was also, by no means, a stranger to the Greeks ; and in this it often seems as if man, in the dark consciousness that all this world of gods was merely of his own imagining, laughed in the end at his own work. The Grecian mythology is full of jesting about gods and heroes ; how Sisyphus cheated Hades, and Her- cules Atlas, was told in a humorous manner even by the logographers ; and to me, at least, Homer appears some- times to smile gaily over the singular stories about the gods, which were handed down to him from the early world, and sometimes himself (as in the contest between Hera and Artemis) to fasten a freer jest on an old legend. The sum of these remarks is, that the immorality of Olympus, so much complained of, by no means sprang out of the infant state of religious thought, but rather from the extremely combined, intricate, and perplexed condition of the Greek religion, in which things that had originated in different places, and belonged to different epochs of reli- gious thought, were all united into one mass. How indivi- duals saved themselves from this confusion and found reli- gious consolation, is certainly a very interesting inquiry. In reading Homer the remark has often forced itself on me, that the mythus, handled by the poet, in many points APPENDIX. 295 gave the gods still more important parts to perform, and in a certain sense was more theological than the poem. Without dfeading the charge of heresy, I shall say a few words on this subject to the reflecting readers of the poet. The Iliad, in its connexion, is, we all know, a glorification of Achilles by Zeus ; for the Trojans only prevail because Zeiis wishes to show that the reposing hero, who sits in solitude, can alone conquer them. But to leave him this glorification entirely unmixed with sorrow, the Grecian .sense of moderation forbids. The deepest anguish must mingle with the consciousness of his fame, and punish his insolence. That glorification is the will of Zeus ; and in the spirit of the ancient mythus, a motive for it is assigned in a divine legend. The sea-goddess Thetis, who was, accord- ing to the Phthiotic mythus, wedded to the mortal Peleus, saved Zeua by calling up the giant Briareus or ^gaeon to his rescue. Why it was ^gffion, is explained by the fact that this was a great sea-dsemon, who formed the subject of fables at Poseidonian Corinth,' where even the sea-god himself was called ^gseon ;^ who moreover was worshipped at several places in Eubcea,' the seat of Poseidon ^gseus ; and whom the Theogony calls the son-in-law of Poseidon, and most of the genealogists, especially Eumelus in the Titanomachy,* brought into relation with the sea. There is, therefore, good reason to be found in ancient belief why Thetis called up jEgaeon of all others to Jove's assistance. The whole of this story, however, is not detailed in Homer, — ^it is not much more than indicated, — and therefore it would be difficult even now to interpret it in a perfectly satisfactory manner.' It bears the same relation to the Iliad that the northern fables of the gods, whi,ch serve as a background to the legend of the Nibelungen, bear to our German ballad, only that here the separation is much greater still. ' Pausan., ii. 1, 6. 4, 7. ^ See p. 212, 3 Ai-rian in Eustath. on the Iliad, p. 123. Solin., ii. 16, * Schol. ApolL, i. 1165. Comp. Schol. II. lb. ' See, however, Welcker, Prometh., p. 147 sqq. 296 APPENDIX. In several passages of -the Odyssey it is hinted to ns, in enigmatical expressions peculiar to that poem, that the hero, at the close of one and beginning of another month, returned to Ithaca and punished the sttitors.' Now, on the day that he re-appeared as an avenger, there was in Ithaca a great festival of Apollo, Nsomwos, as Philochorns rightly observed,^ who was, together with Pallas, a household god in the race of Arcesius. It is on this account that the suitors assemble so early in the house of the king,' and the other nobles of Ithaca in the grove of the far-smiting Apollo, to whom they offer up a sacred hecatomb.* On this day, there- fore, the day of Apollo, the avenging god, the guardian of archers,^ Odysseus makes bis appearance, grasps the bow, and completes with Apollo^ the work of vengeance. A remarkable coincidence certainly, and an extremely signifi- cant feature of ancient tradition, in which nothing was baseless and unmeaning. But even here Homer is satisfied with stating what was handed down, and no indication can be found that the bard himself comprehended the exceed- ingly grand connexion of the legend ; and although we should naturally expect it, there is no indication given that it is the god of the festival who completes his work on that his own day. To him who would desire to know what was the form of the mythic materials before Homer, the Odtsset is one of the most difficult problems. One might perhaps think, and many may so view the matter, that a bard, to whose ears had come the tradition of an Ithacan hero Odysseus, who in his voyage back from Troy long wandered about, and, returning, found his wife besieged by suitors, and his house in the greatest confusion, had tacked to it all manner of tales of wonder and enchantment, which he had learned from intercourse with sea-faring men. But the ' See xiv. 162 ; xix. 307. 2 Dor., vol. i. p. 310. Comp. Schol. Arist. Plut., 1127.] 3 XX. 166, 260. * XX. 278 ; xxi. 268. ' Comp. xxi. 267. « XXII. 7. APPENDIX. 297 more we penetrate into the history of the origin of the mythi handled in the Odyssey, the more do we see that what the poet received was a mass of legends already con- nected with each other, — having been united by popular tradition, or even by earlier bards, — in which there is far more of local origin than we are at first inclined to suppose. Thus I would at once assign to the local- mythus the aid of Minerva, although in the Odyssey it is usually accounted for merely by the general character of the goddess. The chief town in Ithaca (or the neighbouring Astoria) was called' Alalcomenaa, evidently from the help- giving Athena ; hence it is even said to have been a colony from the Bceotian city of that name; and thus therefore is the saving, helping Athena the household-goddess of Odys- seus.^ Among the adventures which befel Odysseus, when tossed about in far distant regions, certainly the most re- markable is the questioning of Tiresias, and the intercourse with other shades, in the meadow of Asphodel, behind the Cimmerians. That the position of that people, as Homer gives it, on the Ocean at the north-west of the earth,^ behind the magic isle of Circe, is a thorough invention, and no dis- figurement of any thing real, I take to be tolerably certain. But we must form quite a different decision in regard to the rites performed by Odysseus, which were evidently copied from actual ceremonies, and appear to have been a atfiaxovgla or blood-sating, as the Boeotians called all sacrifices to the Dead, by which the shades were allured from the nether world, and prevailed upon to speak and answer. It is cer- tain that such citations of the dead were at that time already practised in Greece as local institutions, but only in remote, insulated, and little known regions. Now, there were vtxvo/iavriiix, or ■^vxo'to/jiiirei'a in Greece, at the Pontic Hera- clea,* at Phigalia,' perhaps also at Tsenarum, and, lastly, at the river Acheron in the land of the Thesprotians.® ' Orohom., p. 213, 7. ^ As even Od., iv. 750-766, shows. ' Orchom., p. 276. * Plut. Cimon., 6 de sera num.vind. 10. « Paus., ill. 17, 8. « Herodot.,v.92. Comp.Diogen. L.i.lOO. Paus.,ix.30,3. Schol. Theocr., ii. 12 ; and the allusion in the Birds of Aristoph., 1553. 298 APPENDIX. Only that last-named can lay claim to having occasioned the Homeric invention.' The Heraclean is too young, the Peloponnesian too insignificant, to be drawn from a dis- tance into the mythic cycle of Ithaca. The Avernian, (to remark this also, in opposition to Heyne,)^ if it existed so early, could scarcely be known in Greece, properly so called, even by obscure report. But on the Acheron, where this stream flows through the Acherusian lake, and passing the walls of the ancient Ephyra, afterwards Oichyrus, falls into the sea, in a region which is correctly described, particularly by Thucydides' and Pausanias,^ and on which Pouqueville has recently thrown a clearer light, names and legends of the infernal deities were domiciled from an early period, and from thence migrated early to Italy, partly through the ancient connexion between the Epi- rotes and the Italians, and partly through colonies from Greece Proper : so that now almost everything that Epirus possessed presents itself again in that country, as Pandosia on the Acheron in CEnotria, and the Aornus in Campania. In like manner too, the Acheron of Homer, which receives into itself the Periphlegethon and Oocytus, is certainly not a mere poetical invention ; and even if a reference to sorrow should be concealed in the name — although this has in the language so little analogy in its favour, as in 'Aj^sXwoj — it is at all events too dark and faded for the appellation to be re- garded as allegorical. White poplars also were certainly called ' A^eiaidss, because they grew beside the real Thes- protian Acheron ; and the circumstance of Homer putting poplars likewise in the groves of Persephone,^ shows again that the Epirotic locality glimmers through, the poetical de- scription. But in order that we may be .able to advance a step farther in the discovery of the mythic foundation of the Odyssey, we must tarry longer at Ephyra, and in the first place again take up the question : What Ephyra is it that so often occurs in Homer? I begin with Odyssey, ' Coiup. Paus., i. 17, 2. - Ad JEn., vi. Exc, 2. 3 I. 46. ' I. 17. 5. 5 od., X. 510. APPENDIX. 299 i. 259. The Taphian prince Mentes, (or rather Athena in his form,) relates how Odysseus visited his father on his return from Bphyra, whither he had gone to obtain from Ilus the Mermeride, man-killing poison for his arrows ; but that Ilus did not give it to him, from dread of the eternal gods. Now, if we here think of Ephyra in Elis, as some would, Odysseus could not properly touch any islands, least of all the Echinades at the mouth of the Achelous, ' but which Homer separates entirely from the Taphian islands. The islands on the contrary which can stand for Taphus and the Taphise, lie (according to the newest and best maps, for example that of Barbi^-du-Bocage for Pouqueville) northward, or a little north-westward from Ithaca, (they are Meganisi, Arcondi, Calama, and Gastus.) Odysseus might very well sail thither when returning from Thesprotian Ephyra, especially if he got his ship drawn across the isthmus of the then peninsula of Leucas,^ which course he may have had reasons for preferring to the voyage round. It is clear from' this that the/at land of Ephyra' also, whither, in the opinion of the suitors, Telemachus will per- haps go to obtain poison, is the Thesprotian. Add to this another passage* where Phyleus the prince of Dulichium brings home an excellent coat-of-mail from Ephyra on the river Selleeis, which an ally, Euphetes, the prince of men, had presented to him. This makes it probable that that Ephyra was a citynotedforskilful artisans ; and then again the expla- nation of II. ii. 659, is thereby determined, where Hercules carries away Astyochia from Ephyra on the stream Selleeis, after he had laid waste many cities of god-nourished men. I know very well that a distinguished critic of antiquity, Demetrius of Scepsis, ^ in all these four passages, under- stood the Elean Ephyra; but his main reason, that only by the latter, not by the former, flows a Selleeis, cannot be admit- ted. For it is highly probable that the Acheron, which flowed down from the country of the Dodonsean Selleeis, was called ' II., ii. 62.5. ^ Thuc, iii. 81. ' Od., ii. 328. * II., XV. 631. ' In Strabo, 339'>., 338". SOO APPENDIX. the Selleeis or Seller,' especially before it flowed inta the great marsh ; and this considerable river could then far better serve as a land-mark than an Elean streamlet.^ Apollodorus therefore did certainly right in departing here from the opinion of Demetrius, which seems to have passed over from Crates to him, (as I gather from the Schol. Ven. to II. xi., 740,) even for this reason, that that part of the Elean coast where Ephyra stood, is rather dry and sandy, and the country could then scarcely be calledya^. Apollo- dorus also read somewhere in Homer TriXc^iv in reference to Ephyra, according to Strabo.' But at the same time, I do not deny that other Ephyrse are to be found in Homer. Thus the Ephyrians in the battle with the Phlegyans, in all probability were those of Cranonia ; * and Ephyra in the hill- enclosed valley of Argos, the city of Sisyphus,' is rightly taken to be Corinth, although KSgivhos also is to be met with in Horner^ on other occasions, and even there Par- meniscus' understood the town in Elis. The treatment of this subject is rendered considerably more difficult by the circumstance that these towns did not merely by accident bear the same name, but really had a certain connexion with one another at a remote period. For it does not by any means appear to have been a wavering in the interpretation of mythi which referred the same legend sometimes to this and sometimes to that Larissa, (Echalia, Pylus or Athense, but the legend often really existed from early times at places- of the same name, and their existence had the same foundation with the coinci- dence of name, as can be distinctly shown in many cases. Now, as regards Ephyra, the legend of Medea, the sorceress, and grand-daughter of the Sun, a divine being according to Hesiod and Alcman, was localised at Corinth. She had here with her murdered children a mystic worship.* Now ' This explanation is also given in the iSchol. Ven. to Cat. 166. II. XV. 631. 2 See my Map, Dor., vol. ii. ' VIII. p. 339 ». * II. xiii., 301. Comp. Orchom., p. 193. ^ jj^ yi 152. « II. ii. 670. xiii. 664. Comp. the Ven. Schol. ' Steph. B/'Efu^a. » See Orchom. 268 sq. APPENDIX. SOI the statement that Medea also dwelt at the Elean Ephyra with Augeas (the Shining One) the son of the Sun, Crates ' certainly borrowed from local tradition ; and that the eldest daughter of Augeas knew as many (pdgf/juxa as the broad earth bears, is a fragment of this mythic cyole.^ As I must not allow myself to enter more deeply into these allusions, I turn at once to Thesprotia and Ilus M£j/isg/3))j, who reigned there. The king in the city of the dead may, with the greatest truth, be called the son of Mermerus, the Destroyer; and this also confirms the above exposition. But ApoUodorus mentions,^ doubtless on the authority of a local tradition, that this Mermerus was a son of Pheres, son of Jason and Medea, who went to Ephyra in Thespro- tia. He probably employed this passage in support of his view of the Homeric passage. At all events Msg/iigog was a name which occurred in the family of Medea, for, in Corinth likewise, one of her murdered children was so called,* on whose grave stood a form of terror, perhaps a Gorgoneion, called Asi/ji,a,. The ancient epopee Naupactia relates that Jason, when he dwelt in Corcyra, begat a son called Mermreus, who when hunting on the opposite continent — therefore near Ephyra — was torn in pieces by a lioness.' We might fancy from this that the legend of Mermerus first came to Thesprotia, in consequence of the transplantation of the mythus of Medea to Corcyra, about the 5th Olympiad.^ The passage in the Odyssey, however, is certainly older, and the mythus of Mermerus must therefore have been in both Ephyrae before. But the circumstance of Medea having been buried at Buthrotum' can be derived from the Thesprotian as well as the Corcyrsean legend. Now, then, if it is made out that the fable of Medea, the grand-daughter of the sun, was originally Thresprotian also, and that here therefore the city of the children of the sun, and that of Aidoneus, were perfectly the same, I think that ' Schol. II., xi. 740. ^ II. xi. 741. ^ Frgm., p. 429. Heyne. * ApoU. i. 9, 28. Paus., ii. 3, 6. ' Paus., ii. 3, 7. ' See above, p. 77. ' Solin, 2, 30. 302 APPENDIX. a great enigma in the Homeric Odyssey is sohed. How comes it in all the world, it must be asked, that in Homer, Circe, the daughter of the Sun, (who probably even took her name from the circling planet,) has her abode so near the regions of eternal Night and Death, and that the island of Trinacria, also, is conceived to be so near the ^Esean isle of Circe,'' on which the sheep and cattle of Helius graze I This can have no other rational ground, than that both, the realm of Shade and the realm of Sun, were closely connected in the legend. It is the same in the Herculean mythus, where the herds of Geryoneus and Hades graze upon one island ;^ and although Stesichorus does not appear to have taken these cattle to be those of Helius, as in that case the god could hardly give the cup to the hero to be carried over, yet, the statement of ApoUodorus,^ that the cattle of Helius grazed in Erythea, is to be recognised as ancient tradition, precisely on account of that connexion. The herds of the Sun in the Odyssey, likewise, are, of course, no arbitrary fiction, but were fabled after actual herds, such as the god^ according to the hymn to the Pythian Apollo, must have also possessed at Teenarum, another place where the worship of the Dead and the worship of the Sun are found together* Nay, it appears to me, that even in the account of Odys- seus' companions making libations of water at the burning sacrifice of Helius' oxen, a mythic foundation must be fur- nished for the nTjpaX/o; Sutf/a/, which Helius received at Athens and elsewhere.* Now, we know it was stated by HecatsBus, that Geryoneus, whose horned-cattle were stolen by Hercules, ruled in the district of Ambracia;' in this, indeed, he may have subtilized, but he must certainly, however, have heard from that region a tradition on which he could build, in the same way, as I think I have most clearly pointed out, that Scylax Erythea, on the Acroce- raunian mountains, near Oricus, precisely marks the place where grazed the ancient Sun-herds of Apollonia.' 1 Od., xii. 166, 201, 261. 2 Apollod., ii. 5, 10. ^ I. 6, 1, 4. * Polemon in Schol. Soph. CEd. Col., 100. 5 Arrian. Emp. Al., ii. 16. « Dor,, i. 436. APPENDIX. SOS 1 think it is clear that even the daughter of the Sun and the herds of the Sun in the Odyssey emanated from the legend of Epirus. A collateral proof lies in the following circumstance. The way to the JE,ma, of Circe, as well as to the JEa, of her brother jEetes, according to Homer, leads on from Greece through the jostling rocks, between which no bird flies through, not even the swift-winged doves that bring Ambrosia to father Zeus, for the rock always crushes one of them to death, in place of which the father creates another, that the number may remain complete.' Now, it may be gathered from the relation of the Dodonsean priestesses in Herodotus,^ however much it may be historised, that there was at Dodona a legend about doves having been the founders of the oracle; now doves were in ancient times symbols of nourishment ; and we can scarcely doubt, there- fore, that these doves were identical with the Hyades — the nourishing nymphs who were worshipped at Dodona. This is also confirmed by the circumstance that Pherecydes calls one of these Ambrosia;^ in Homer all are ambrosia-bring- ing doves. Now these Rain-nymphs who attended zeii Na/os might be perhaps represented in the Dodonsean legend as coming over the sea in driving clouds, — a graceful image which was handed down to the bard of the Odyssey along with the mass of other Epirotic legends.* Now, together with those traditions grew up also at Ithaca the legends regarding the fortunate and skilful mariners of Phaeacia — to whom the much-suffering and ship-wrecked Odysseus presents a signal contrast- — and various vague rumours from the western world, which might have reached this western border of Greece by means of Taphian naviga- tion, and been incorporated with the Grecian legend. 1 doubt whether anything in those sea-tales came to the Greeks through the Phoenicians : on the contrary, I think ' Odi, xii. 61 sq. 2 II. 55. Comp. Paus.j x. 12. Hesych. IliXeiai. ' Sturz, p. 109. * Comp. the similar treatment of this legend in Volcker, it. p. 83 sqq. 304 APPENDIX. I can clearly point out the influence of the naval expedi- tions of the Pelasgo-Tyrrhenians in the case of Ino- Leucothea. For how could the daughter of Cadmus be- come a saving sea-deity at Thebes, a city that never carried on navigation, otherwise than that she belonged to a sea- faring race I but how naturally did she become so through the Pelasgo-Tyrrhenians, who, when they left Thebes, must have speedily converted their native daemons into guardians of navigation. HESIOD. Regarding the Theogony of Hesiod, which has lately be- come the subject of important mythological controversies, I take the liberty of oflering a theory which will, perhaps, be borne out, partly by the connexion, and partly by the elucidation of some particular points. So soon as legends concerning the gods existed, and they co-existed with the worship of the gods, there were also theogonies. The essence of the mythus consists just in this, that it makes of every- thing an action and event, makes all things take place in time, and thus likewise transforms the relations of the gods into temporal events. To imagine the gods as with- out beginning and everlasting, was an idea that could not prevail; for this reason, that they were conceived as too closely interwoven with the existing state of things, and therefore too relative : hence Greece, perhaps, never knew the worship of a god without beginning, an original deity. These local theogonies could not be fashioned out of any- thing else than the ideas of the creeds with which they were connected ; they presented these in an historical form ; so that it can in reality be said that here the children begat their parents. Ancient bards and prophets, filled with the idea of the bright and pure god, Phoebus Apollo, born to the world, springing out of darkness into light, called the Greatest of Gods, the God xar'l^o;^?)!', and Conceal- ment, A^Tfi, his parents, and gave to the latter, again, a APPENDIX. 305 mother, Brightness, 4>o/i3^. It appears that these beings had their home in the Delian and Delphinian legend.' The worships of the various gods now came into closer contact. Amphictyonic sacra and national sanctuaries were formed ; ancient schools of bards, more than allj contributed to establish a confederation of gods, in which, indeed^ many an earlier worship was cast into the shade, and many a highly-honoured deity was brought down to a lower ranki Thus, also, were the theogonic legends, which had been aU ready formed in different districts, gathered into one mass ; and the mythusj generally inspired with belief in the reality of what was believed, united and reconciled what- ever admitted of union and reconciliation. The union was, of course, always influenced by the ideas prevailing at the time ; and, at length, with the materials handed down, specu- lations on the world and deity, arising independently thereof, were conjoined. Many a poet may have tried his skill on these materials ore, in the Boeotian school of bards, the man arose who formed a general theogonic system, compre- hending, at the same time, a history and genealogy of the gods — the Hesiodic Theogony. The Hesiodic Theogony shows through what births and revolutions the race of gods that then ruled the world arose out of an earlier one, that of the Titans ; and how these were sprung from the primary elements of nature. It inter- weaves' the thoroughVg-personal and man-resembling world of gods with the most universal powers of external life. The visible world is conceived as living from the beginning; and the Titans are, as it were^ the general expressions, the reign- ing gods, the individual products of its universal life. Now this fundamental notion, expressed as we would now per- haps express it, is completely carried out by the bard in the mythic materials. The leading idea is that of the Titans; and it were much to be wished that we could in some way arrive at it historically. This much is clear, that the pragmatic method of explanation is greatly in error when it takes the Beings described as Titanic to have been • Comp. iEschyl. Eumen. 7. X 306 APPENDIX. worshipped ewrlier, because they are once actually called, though in a more modern passage, " earlier gods." On the one hand, all traces of divine worship are wanting, even in regard to those that cannot be regarded as expelled : for instance, Oceanus ; again, it can be distinctly seen that they were developed from the worship of actual gods, as Themis probably was from the Delphian worship of Zeus and Apollo ; lastly, they are almost all more akin to allegory, and thereby show themselves to be younger than the Olym- pians.^ The so-called younger, but in reality elder gods, for this reason of itself, that they were objects of worship from the earliest ages, became more personal, and their significance more obscure, and thereby did the possibility arise, that they should preserve their" rank as princes, and the Earth-mother, Art/iTirri^, become the grand-daughter of the Earth, VaTa? But before we proceed further, we must take care not to create confusion, by mixing together two entirely different things, — ^the question as to the original idea of the Titans, and thie investigation as to how the beings that figure as Titans in Hesiod originated. There can scarcely, in my opinion, be any doubt that, in earlier times, the Titans must have been, in many points, otherwise conceived than they are represented by Hesiod. The name might perhaps signify nothing else than Children of the Earth ; so that Tirant would be contracted from liTaimti like ' AXk/imv from 'AXx/ia/wif, if we are to put any faith in Diodorus, who says that the earth was somewhere called Tirala. But if we strictly confine ourselves to the fragments of a Titanic poesy which are to be found in Homer, the following view will be the result : Far beneath, where earth and sea have their utmost ends, where no light and no breath of fresh air can penetrate, surrounded by the deeps of Tartarus, sit the Titanic or Infernal gods, Japetus and Chronos, with whom Zeus has thrust them down, inactive indeed, but still dreadful, and therefore witnesses of invio- ' See above, p. 60. s Comp. p. 227. APPENDIX. 307 lable oaths among the gods.' They are, accordingly, subter- ranean, dark powers, who formerly acted also on earth, but are now no more to be seen. They still serve, however, as a support and foundation to the whole, as Tartarus to Earth and Heaven. Oceanus and Tethys, as well as Hyperion- Helius, clearly do not belong to them.* In general, none can, except beings who would destroy the existing order of nature, — dark, sullen, subterranean powers. This idea also lies at the foundation of the Hesiodic battle of the Titans, but an entirely different one prevails in the appellations of the in- dividual Titans: so that here heterogeneous materials are evidently introduced. For who can reconcile the idea of Brightness, ©s/a, of the High- wanderer, 'Tir^lm, of eternal Justice, Befiig, of Memory, Muri/iogivri, of the Life-givers, Oceanus and Tethys, with that Homeric picture; and if we are not to consider these as having been hurled down, then the Titans were still more super- than subter-ranean deities. He who invented these names, — I think it was a Pierian son of the Muses, — evidently wished merely to re- present the great ceconomy of natii/re, which depends on the cooperation of Earth and Heaven, in the sacred number of twelve persons. Now, with regard to the battle of the Titans, according to those Homeric indications, it was a sequel to, and expan- sion of the battle between Zeus and Chronos ; and on the latter, therefore, the whole Theogony properly depends. For the dominion of the Olympian gods is explained only by this combat ; and if we could succeed in bringing the Titans into the same relation to the primary elements — an object which the ancient poetical fancy of Uranus' emascu- lation had in view — the history of the gods wouldbe complete. That main point, however, scarcely emanated from the itiiagination of a bard, for he could not venture on so im- portant inventions ; and even Hesiod himself tells us that the history of the saving of young Zeus in Crete was a local mythus, and the Parnassian 'OiupaXhi, taken in connexion > II., viii. 478-481 ; xiv. 203, 274, 278 ; xv. 226. 2 According to II., viii. 480 ; xiv. 202. 308 APPENDIX. with the 'O/tpaX/ov 'ridiov in Crete, proves that the legend had already been introduced through the ancient connexion between Crete and Pytho. I coincide, therefore, with the latest treatment of this legend,^ at least in the position that Hesiod has here made legends belonging to the nature- worship of Crete the foundation of his poetry. What, for example, the swallowing of children by Chronos signified in Crete, I must here leave unexamined ; but what the theogonic poet fancied under it, may be gathered from this, that the same image occurs once again in the Theogony, where Zeus swallows Metis. This swallowing seems to have been first devised by ancient bards, for it is connect- ed in the closest manner with the birth of Athena; and the Athena sprung from Metis is a thoroughly poetical being, a personification of intellect : it is probable that here the figure of swallowing is employed in imitation of still older legends, especially those of Crete. Now, as swallowing here denotes a union with one's own substance; for Zeus by placing Metis in his body, now knows both good and evil : so the theogonic bard in that other passage undoubtedly understood it thus : Chronos wishes to check all further development of the living world, by uniting the newly-born with himself; but these, however, tear themselves asunder from him, and in- troduce a new time, the present. It is obvious, that in the Hesiodic Theogony widelj' dif- ferent materials are worked together into a whole, and that occasionally the poet has not succeeded in bringing things repugnant in their nature into complete agreement. He evidently designed to embody in his poem all the beings that held a prominent place in the religious worship, and were celebrated in song ; thus, for example, all the monsters and Beings of Terror of the ancient Heracleas and Perseids are here to be found in genealogical connexion ; and, from the conclusion of the legend of Hercules, Hebe even finds a place among the far more individual Olympians. By means, then, of this striving after comprehensiveness, things exttemely incongruous are often brought together ; thus, for instance, 1 Hoeck's Creta, p. 163 sqq. APPENDIX. 309 Harmonia, as daughter of Ares in the old Thebaic my thus, looks strange beside her thoroughly poetical brothers, Fear and Terror. Now, this could not well be otherwise ; and I would scarcely venture to blame Hesiod on that account. On the contrary, I would be disinclined to join in the ac- cusations which we often hear brought against the Bard of the Theogony, (Heyne has perhaps shown most severity in this way,) for having done nothing but raked together frag- ments of totally different kinds, and even for having mis- understood everything that he brings forward, from his ignorance of allegory, treating it all as personal history. This last reproach is partly grounded on the theory of the mythus above contended against.^ Hesiod certainly relates what he does relate as real, and not ideal ; but so did the first creators of these relations, and that is the law of myth- invention. But, at the same time, there is nothing in him of later pragmatism ; and he does not think, for instance, in reference to the earth-encircling Heaven, on a human per- sonality, even though he speaks of its emasculation ; on the contrary, he always knows right well how to keep within the boundary beyond whjch personification would become un- true. To the other objection it may be answered, that, if we only avoid everywhere introducing ideas of our own time, and seek to discover those of the ancient bard, there will really be found to prevail throughout the poem a consistency and connexion which to me at least seems to be the work of no mean artist. Let us here only consider how the poet, in the first sixteen lines, builds up at once what may be termed the skeleton of the world. In the middle, the great broad surface of the earth ; beneath it, Tartarus ; and above, the wide-expanded Heaven. That the latter first arises out of the earth, whilst Tartarus co-existed with it, rests on the general law of creation, which makes the bright and definite spring from the dark and undefined. Therefore is Chaos the ancient Prime, which always continues to exist as the boundary of appearance ;^ from it proceeds what, to the sense ' P. 50. 2 V. 814. 310 APPENDIX. of sight constantly destroys appearance, upper and nether Night, which is called "EjsjSos. From these two again bloom forth, in accordance with that fundamental law. Ether and Day ; and this, judging from the sequel of the narration, seems to be the first operation of the fairest of gods, the All-subduer Eros, whom ancient poesy, probably availing itself of the first dawnings of worship, regards as the true mundane principle. On the other hand, the Earth, without Love, produces from herself the mountains and the billowy Pontus ; whereat some have wondered how the Earth could here bring forth the sea, as she only afterwards, by con- junction with Heaven, gives birth to Oceanus, the god of waters. But Pontus signifies the salt sea, the unfruitful; therefore begotten without Eros. Hesiod imagines it bub- bling up from the fountains of the Earth, (Homer other- wise :) hence Uranus has no part in its generation ; on the contrary, Otfeanus, the father of the Fresh- water, from whom all streams and springs, and all nourishment comes, must be a child of Heaven and Earth, begotten through Love. THE ORPHICI. It seems proper that something should be said regarding the influence of these men on the religious culture and Mythology of Grecian antiquity, as the popular views which the " Antis^mbolik" lays down on the subject, and the '* Mythologische Forschungen''' will next perhaps carry out, certainly challenge every theory which does not agree with them to self-examination and proof. Herodotus, who wrote about the beginning [of the Pelo- ponnesian war, states that there then existed certain ojy/a, i.e. religious ceremonies, which were called r& 'O^pxdi, and Bax^ixSi, but in his opinion were Egyptian and Pythago- rean. In these orgies /igo/ xdyo< were handed down, and those who took part in them must not enter the temple, nor be buried in woollen garments ; ' i/ioXoyituai Se raDra (this ' 11. 81. APPENDIX. 311 agrees with) roTiSt OgfixoTgi xaXio/isvoiei xal Bax,y(ixoTgi, soDff/ 31 AiywjfrioKfi (these five words are wanting in one family of manuscripts, but perhaps merely on account of the o/j,oioTi- Xsurow) xal Tl\ihayogikiei (all neuters : for the Orphici, as persons, were certainly not Egyptian) ohSi y&g rohroiv ruv i^yluii fiere^ovTK x. r. X. Euripides, who was a contemporary of Herodotus, in the character of Theseus, represents the chaste and noble Hippo- lytus as a man who abstained from animal food, and, follow- ing Orpheus as his chief, led a Bacchian life, honouring the empty vapour of many books.^ The last words make it evident that Euripides here transfers contemporaneous rela- tions to those ancient times, in the same way that he does not hesitate even to ascribe obscene pictures (Parrhasii libidines) to early antiquity.^ But it is clear that there was already a rich Orphean, literature at the time of Euripides, He has also, in his " Cretans," transferred Orphean cere- monies to the Curetes of Crete,' In the time which immediately followed that of Euripides, instead of Orphici we hear of Orpheotelestse, with whom the Deisidsemon of Theophrastus* got himself, with his wife or nurse and child, initiated every month : and this is evidently the same class of people who, according to Plato,* went as dyugrai and /tdvTiif to the doors of the rich, and promised to purify them from all sins, even those of their forefathers, by sacrifices and propitiatory hymns; for which purpose they exhibited a bundle of books (J^i^Xw oj/ta^Jj) by Mus?eus and Orpheus, the sons of Selene and the Muses, as they said, according to which they performed the rites of atone- ment and riXeral.^ The sacra also, into which Ninos,^ who was condemned to death, and after her Glaucothea, the mother of ^schines, initiated, were Orpheo-Bacchie, as is clear from Harpocrates, {dfo/idrruii,) but were richly set ' V. 965, Comp. Valokenser ad Hippol., p, 206. 2 V. 1019. 3 Fragm. N. 3. * Charact., 16. ^ g^ate IT, p. 364. ^ Comp. Protag., 316, ' Schol. August ad Demosth., T. II. p. 167, 312 APPENDIX. with Phrygian sabazia.^ This was evidently the time in which these OrpheotelestaB flourished ; and if, in Plutarch's collection of Laconic apothegms,^ Philippus, a mendicant Orpheotelestes, is mentioned as a contemporary of Leoty- chides, the follower of Demaratus, a later Spartan of that name may perhaps be confounded^ith the ancient king. Now, if that ancient Orphean sect died out soon after Herodotus, and this degenerate race of begging priests came into its room, it is on the other hand probable that the former had existed before for a considerable time ; for this reason that it could scarcely otherwise have produced the quantity of books spoken of by the Attic tragedian and philosopher. Were we to read in .ffischylus himself what Aristophanes' makes him say, " Orpheus taught us the rites of initiation, (■riT'jrcei,) and to keep our hands from slaughter" — words which manifestly refer merely to the fleshless diet of the Orpheans, and not to the prohi- bition of anthropophagy, as those who came after imagined,^ — ^we should be forced to conclude that that institution was pretty old even at the time of ^schylus ; however, this is not by any means to be so taken. When Plato* says, that in the primitive ages the gods only received bloodless ofierings, and that in some measure an Orphean life ('Ogp/xo/ nisg Xiyij/.tm S'loi) was then common, he manifestly transfers the expression of the present, or a time not long past, to a very remote period. In opposition to all those who would, with- out any valid evidence, carry back that Orphic union to hoar antiquity, stands Herodotus, who could not, surely, have said of a thing currently believed to have come down from the earliest times, that it was in fact Egyptian or Pytha- gorean. However, we must also bring forward something in opposition to the testimony of Herodotus. We might, without further inquiry, assume that the Orphean orgies were borrowed from Egypt, if Herodotus were not frequently so very credulous in his derivation from that source : it will 1 Comp. Lobeck, De Myster. prii>. Diss. JI. 2 P. 215. Hutten. 3 T^ioga, 1032. « Laws, vi. p. 782, APPENDIX. 313 be well to suspend our belief in this case also. But that the Pythagorean league constitutes the other root, is, for chronological reasons, a very hazardous assumption. The great political confederation of Pythagoras — which had, in reality, only an outward resemblance to the system of the Orphici — was not overturned, and its members dispersed, till about the 69th Olympiad. These afterwards, singly and at intervals, crossed over to the mother country. Now, it can be imagined that, in the course of time, they became reunited, and founded associations from which then, in an inferior degree, the Orphean conventicles may have arisen ; but for the accomplishment of these things we must, at a moderate computation, assign the space of half a century, (till the 81st Olympiad;) and whence, then, the great num^ her of books at the time of Euripides, and the belief of a considerable antiquity ! Could this tragedian, and Aristo- phanes, derive from Orpheus what was only formed in their own life-time 2 Add to this, that what was most peculiar to the Orphici cannot be deduced from the genuine old Pythagoreans. First we know, on the best evidence, that an exclusively vegetable diet was by no means a principle of the ancient Pythagoreans at the time when their union existed. Be- sides, the worship of Apollo and the Muses was that to which the Pythagoreans were most devoted ; and to them the ^ax~ j(i{iu]i seemed objectionable.^ Now, the ^ax^svm of the Orphici, indeed, is to be taken in quite a different sense ; but still, however, it remains inconceivable how, if this sect were sprung from that confederation, the worship which was there contemned, could here form the corner-stone, the cen- tral point of the whole union ; so much so, that Orphean and Bacchian orgies expressed quite the same thing. The consideration of these circumstances has the effect of making a theory seem to me worthy of recommendation, which is not, indeed, that of Herodotus, but which, however, explains its origin. When the Pythagoreans saw their confedera- 1 Phintys in Stobseus, Serin. 72, pp. 444, 445. 314 APPENDIX. tion in Lower Italy dissolved, and yet felt in themselves that propensity to form associations which is so deeply rooted in man, they laid hold of the Orphean orgies, which at that time already existed in Greece, and approximated and conformed to them as much as they were able. To Herodotus, the Orphica themselves might then appear Py- thagorean : it is also evident how much that must have contributed to transform by degrees the stern philosophers of ancient Pythagoreism into the Pythagorists of after times. It appears that an important part in this uniting of the Pythagoreans, was played by Cercops, who, according to Aristotle in Cicero,^ composed some Orphic poem, (the Greek name appears to lurk in et hoc Orphicum carmen ;) and whom Epigenes, a very learned inquirer into the Or- phic system, named as the author of the Ugli Xiyoi? in twenty-four rhapsodies, as well as of the 8/5 "A/3ou xard^agis, which others attributed to Prodicus, who was either a Samian, Perinthian, or Phocsean.^ To the reconcilers of the two systems, Brontinus might also, perhaps, belong, — a Pythagorean to whom Epigenes ascribed the Orphic pugixA,'^ and others the poem called iriir'Kos xal dlxrvov,^ which was generally, together with the Crater,^ regarded as the work of Zopyrus the Heraclean,' whose native city, if it was the Pontic Heraclea, shows of itself that he could scarcely have lived before the 60th Olympiad. But if the Orphean fraternity cannot have first risen from the ruins of the Pythagorean, the door again seems opened to those who are disposed to carry back the exis- tence of such a sect to early Thracian antiquity. In oppo- sition to this, let us only take into consideration what the oldest witnesses, Plato and Aristotle, lay down as Orphic doctrines. Waiving all lengthened exposition, I shall only here adduce the leading points. The disciples of Orpheus, «/ &/j,fl 'Ofpla, taught that the soul was confined in the body • N. D. 1. 38. * Clem., Strom, p. 333. Sylb. Suidas. ' Eschenbach, Epiff., p. 187. Comp. Orchom., p. 18 ; also Diodor, 1. 92. 96, who refers to this poem. ♦ Clem. ^ Suid. « Clem. ' Suid. APPENDIX. 315 as in a prison-house.^ They also doubtless taught a mi- gration of souls through diflferent bodies and natures, to which doctrine this verse of Orpheus refers : — hrri S'Jk ycn^ xarairaiigars x6iv od' sgri, aaxov hi ti griftiO, rsruxrai, Kal Ti (pi^ii •soKkh irugirbv diiXoiisi jB^oroTgi.^ However, it was not assuredly the form of this constella- tion, and its direction in regard to Orion, that led to the re- cognition of a dog in it : for Sirius was regarded from early times as an infuriate dog in the heavens, on account of the influences ascribed to it ; but having been once viewed as such an animal, it was natural that he should be brought into connexion with Orion, and made to take part in the great chase among the constellations. Although, therefore, the pursuit of the Pleiades was also originally conceived to form a part of the Orionic chase, the poets of antiquity, on the other hand, developed the rela- tion in such a way that the Pleiades were imagined to be timid virgins, (Hesiod, indeed, had already called them daughters of Atlas,) and Orion, a fierce giant, who pursued them, or their mother, with passionate desire. Even the cyclic epic poets,' and Pindar,* are quoted for this story. The latter, also, says in another passage : ' "It ia right that ^ Buttmann, Uebur die Entstehung der Sternbilder, p. 17. 2 II., xxii. 27. 3 In the Schol. to the II. xviii. 486, fi igrogia vagi ro7s xvxKixoTs. I cannot here enter into the investigations as to the meaning of this erpTeBsion. * Frag, ii., from the Dithyrambs, in the Etymol. M., pp. 676, 33 ; and Eustath. on the II., xviii., p. 1155. Bom. ^ Nem. ii. 12. Dissen has called attention to the paronomasia in this passage. APPENDIX. 335 Orion should not be far from the mountain-born Peleiades." Pindar is even said to have already related how Zeus trans- formed the Pleiades, when fleeing from Orion, into doves, in order to put an end to their misery, and placed them in the heavens as signs of the seasons. Here, indeed, as happens so often in poetical mythi, the connexion of the things is exactly reversed, inasmuch as the presence of the Pleiades in the sky — the origin of the notion that they were pursued by Orion — is now represented as a mediate eflfect of the pursuit. This form of mythus is frequently to be met with in later writers.^ From the period above-mentioned, Orion now sinks every day longer and longer before day-break, beneath the hori- zon ; so that when the Sun is in Aquarius, he is seen at his culminating point at the beginning of the night, and sinks about midnight. When the Sun is in Aries, we see Orion set just when the darkness has set in ; the acrony- CHAL SETTING of the constellatiou takes place. Eudoxus assigns the time from the thirteenth day of Aries to the first of Taurus, as that in which the whole constellation gradually disappears. ^ But, whereas, it was seen before pretty high in the Southern sky, and in an upright posi- tion, it is now observed to lie obliquely towards the West- ern horizon ; which position is alluded to by Horace, when he calls the autumnal South wind — " Devexi rapidus comes Orionis." ^ The sun then comes too near Orion to allow him to be still visible in the evening ; he remains concealed a while, and, under the Grecian sky, more than fifty days pass before Orion can again become visible towards morning in the East, and in advance of the Sun, and before the above-mentioned BEiiiAOAL RISING can take place. These relations peculiar to Orion have furnished materials 1 Hygin, Poet. Astron. ii. 21 ; Athen. xi, p. 490 ; Schol. ad II. xviii. 486. 2 Geminus, ib., pp. 261, 263. 3 Carm. i. 28, 23. 336 APPENDIX. for a strange fable, which, notwithstanding its extraordinary character, can be explained with perfect certainty in almost all its features ; indeed, even the ancients partially recog- nised its reference to the constellation.' Orion, thus it runs, came from his native place Boeotia to the island of Chios, and there wooed the daughter of King CEnopion, (the wine-man,) who was a son of Dionysus and Ariadne. In his service he chased, as a mighty hunter, all kinds of game that were to be found in the island. But as CEnopion always put off the marriage, Orion, in a fit of drunkenness, burst into the chamber of the virgin, and de- flowered her. (Others, instead of Merope the daughter of CEnopion, say that it was his wife Aerope who was violated by Orion.) But the Satyrs, with whom Orion had caroused, bind him, and deliver him up to CEnopion. CEnopion burns out his eyes as a punishment, and turns him out helpless on the shore. Orion now gropes about until he hears at a dis- tance the noise of a forge, and following it, reaches the workshop of Hephaestus and the Cyclopes, in Lemnos. The god of fire hereupon gives Orion the boy Cedalion as his guide, whom he places on his shoulders, and causes to lead him. The boy always leads Orion through the Ocean towards the Bast, so that the sun constantly shines in the sockets of his eyes. In this way the sunbeams restore to him his eyesight, and Orion, now able to see again, hastens back in order to punish CEnopion. The latter, however, has in the meantime concealed himself in a subterranean ' Volcker, among the moderns, has already correctly explained most of the features of this mythus in his Myth, der Jap., p. 114 sqq. The following story is taken from ApoHod., i. 4, 3 ; Hygin., P.A. ii. 34 ; Eratosth. Catast., 32 ; Parthen., 20 ; Serv. ad ^n., x. 763 ; Theon. ad Arat. Phsn., 323 ; Schol. Nicand. Theriaca, 15 ; Comp. Arat. Phsen., 640 ; together with the Schol. Tzetz. Chil. iii. 226 j Lucian., *. tou o'ixov, 28. It is supposed (see Schneider on the Schol. Nicand., ib.) that Pindar already treated the story in his Dithyr. ; this, however, must at all events be reckoned doubtful. See Dissen on Pind. Dithyr., p. 626. On the other hand, it is certain that Sophocles alluded to the mythus in his Cedalion, a satiric drama. Even the expression axinxrlerous d6/jLovs, quoted from it, may have referred to the HephiEstian chamber, which figures in the legend. APPENDIX. 337 chamber built bj Hephaestus, where Orion's vengeance can no longer reach hi.m. Now, to the explanation of this story belongs chiefly this circumstance, that the appearances of Orion, together with Sirius, were brought into connexion with the ripening and gathering of the grape. The grape began to ripen when Orion appeared in the heavens. This was principally ascribed to the influence of Sirius, whose heliacal rising takes place, according to Meton, on the 25th, according to his contemporary, Euctemon, and also Eudoxus, on the 27th day of Cancer :^ in Homer's time it occurred at the end of the month of July.^ This idea occasioned various legends, especially the iEtolian one, according to which the vine, in form of a piece of wood, was born of the dog Maera or Sirius.3 Now, then, so long as the wine is ripening, Orion is the servant of King CEnopion, (whose name is merely " wine " personified,) the ruler of the grape-abound- ing isle of Chios, and hunts for him the animals in the sky. He then, also, naturally takes part in the vintage, and gets intoxicated in the new-pressed must. Now, in Greece, the vintage begins, according to Hesiod's precept, at the time* Eur av S' 'n^lcav kuI 'Silgios eg /Jiiiov £X&») Obgavhv, 'AgxroDgov d' sgldrj ^ododdxTuXo; 'Hiis. The heliacal rising of Arcturus is here denoted ; it took place according to the ancient Parapegmata, from the lOtli to the 20th day of the sun's station in Virgo,' and in Hesiod's time on the 18th of September;^ it was regarded as the beginning of autumn, properly so called, (Metoporon.) At the same time of the year Orion rises about midnight, and has ascended to the middle of the sky when morning dawns, and, as Hesiod says, Eos regards Arcturus. Up to that point, therefore, Orion has always ascended ; from that ' Geminus, ib., p. 245. 2 Ideler, Handbuch, i. p. 344. Lehrbuch, p. 102. ' Comp. likewise, Nonnus Dionys,, xii. 287. ' Works and Days, 609. Gottl. ' Euctemon in Geminus, p. 249. ^ Ideler, Handbuch, i. p. 247. Z 338 APPENDIX. time, he begins to sink downwards. This sinking was regarded by the popular fancy as a consequence of Orion''s participation in the carousals connected with the vintage. They might, at the same time, however, have before their eyes, and in their thoughts, the position of Orion, at a some- what later period of the year : for in Greece the vintage is prolonged for several months ; in particular, the Attic vin- tage-festival of the rural Dionysia, did not take place till Poseideon, near the winter solstice : therefore at a time when Orion, already going down, had reached the horizon, and sank earlier every day into the waves of the ocean. Partly the sinking of Orion, and partly his oblique position — in which the gigantic figure seemed to stretch itself over the earth — might, at this season, have most readily led to the idea of a drunk person. It is remarkable that Kesil, the Hebrew name of Orion, also denotes an inconsiderate per- son and fool.i It appears to have been quite natural to the nations of antiquity to regard Orion, indeed, as a powerful giant, but also as an insolent and foolish fellow. The mis- deeds committed in this fit of drunkenness, are avenged by the giant's loss of sight. It is self-evident that this refers to the complete disappearance of Orion in the spring. He now wanders about blind and invisible ; his eyes have lost their light ; no one sees him. If to us there seems to be here a confounding of the active and passive, this was a matter that did not seem so strange to antiquity, when 5-upxJj, ccecus, and other terms, applied to the operations of the senses, or the want of them, were taken in subjective and objective, in active and passive signification. Hereupon some fifty days elapse, when the giant of the stars, who was seen disappearing in the West, suddenly appears again in the East, and rises with renewed splendour. The evidence of their senses taught them that Orion had been with the Sun. 1 I am well aware that the interpretation of ^>Q2 into Orion, is not generally received, (comp. Ideler, Untersuchungen iiber den Ursprung der Stern-Namen, p. 264 : ) it appears to me, however, the most pi'obable. If we translate Kestl by giant, we evidently do violence to the word. APPENDIX. 339 Formerly he was observed to sink after the Sun, now he was seen ascending before it. That the Sun had, with its fiery virtue, restored him his eyesight, was quite a natural idea. The circumstance of his going through the earth-encircling Ocean-stream rests on the same notion, according to which the Sun-god — ^as Mimnermus and Pherecydes related — after descending in the West, voyages round in a golden bark over the waves of Ocean to the East, there to ascend the heavens again. Only that Orion wades through the Ocean as becomes his gigantic stature, and as will be after- wards confirmed from other fictions. Hephsestlls, the pos- sessor of all fire, could be easily drawn into the fable ; he was the fittest person to instruct Orion how he might recover his sight. The gnome-like boy Cedalion, whom Orion receives as his guide, is an enigmatical figure in the legend. It points, however, to the circumstance^ that the legend altogether was indigenous at Naxos^ where were circulated all sorts of interesting fables relating to the intercourse of Hephaestus and Dionysus, and which are to be referred to the poesy of ancient Thrace. Hepheestus was there said to have had Cedalion as his instructor in the art of forging.' Perhaps he was even originally a great dsemon of fire in the legend of Orion, and merely became a boy in order that he might have room on the shoulders of Orion. A boy sitting on the shoulders of the giant, perhaps with a blazing torch, was an image, to the development of which the widely-separated stars in the shoulders of Orion very naturally invited. Drawn in this manner, he was as picturesque an object as our St Christopher. There were even paintings, according to Lucian, in which this group, with Hephaestus and Helius, were represented together. And the fact, that figures resembling Satyrs are to be found 1 Eustathius on the II., xiv. 294, p. 987. Rom. Volcker, p. 1 15, derives KjjfiaX/ww from xnidiunv, and imagines Cedalion to have been a guide of the Dead, inasmuch as Orion, when he has set, is conceived to be dead. But- this does not sufficiently agree with the connexion of the mythusj and I coincide with what Welcker has said on the subject, App. to the Trilogy, p. 316, where at the same time the name KridaXi'iiiv is explained to be " a guardian." 340 APPENDIX. pictured on vases, with a boy sitting on their back and bearing a torch/ might, perhaps, be explained by the intro- duction of Orion into the company of the Satyrs, whereby he assumed himself somewhat of the character of a Satyr. The monster, with Cedalion on his shoulders, in connexion with a chorus of Satyrs, was Certainly also a leading figure in the Cedalion of Sophocles^ and from that Satyric drama might probably be taken the circumstance above quoted, (from Servius,) that the Satyrs delivered Orion bound to CEnopion. Let us turn, however, to the solution of the fable. Orion having recovered his sight, wishes to be re- venged on his foe, the stupifying juice of the grape ; but, in the meantime a subterranean chamber is prepared for the latter.^ In regard to this Hephsestian chamber, it will be most natural to think of those earthen jars, and similar vessels, into which, according to Grecian custom, the wine was poured in the Springs and withdrawn ffom all influence of the air by careful seclusion. As Hephaestus also pre- sided over the handicraft of potters, for example in Athens, as a chief deity of the Cerameicus, or Potters' Quarter, the popular fancy might very well call these burnt vessels a chamber built by Hephaestus ; and CEnopion concealed in this house is an idea similar to one in a beatitiflil poem by Novalis, a mythus of the latest formation. " To snbterranean cell conveyed^ In narrow cradle now lie lies ; Triumphs and feasts lie sees arrayed In dreamsj and airy castle's rise. When struggles his impatient soul. Let none his chamber venture nigh ; His yoiithftil strength then spurns control. And bonds and bars asunder fly." ' Millin et Maisonneuve, Peintures de Vases Antiques, T. i. pi. 20. The whole comf)Osition, is, indeed, very enigmatical. ^ From the ailalogy of the ^tolian fable, according io which the piece of wood btotlglit forth by Sirius is buried, in order to grow up in the Spring as a tine, we might here likewise think of the planting of vine-shoots tnathali. The time of Orion's rising, however, does not correspond with this ; and I haVe, therefore, preferred the explana- tion in the text. APPENDIX. 341 The imagination of the Greeks brought the constellation of Orion not merely into connexion with the ripening of the grape, but with other autumnal fruits ; especially the pome- granate-tree, which was usually called by the Greeks go/o;, and gidri by the Bceotians, among whom the legend of Orion was more particularly domiciled.^ Orion, according to one legend,^ espoused Side, who was so beautiful that she vied with Hera for the prize of beauty ; but Hera was so much offended at this that she thrust her down to the infernal world. The pomegranate-tree is likewise to be found on various other occasions in Grecian mythology ; an Ionic legend called Rhoeo the daughter of Staphylus, (the grape-man,) and a lover of Apollo.^ The swelling and seed-abounding fruit was well adapted to symbolise fruitful- ness ; hence the Argive statue of Hpra held a pomegranate in its hand : * according to Gyprian tradition, Apbi'odite was said to have planted the tree.5 This symbol, however, appears more frequently in connexion with death and the infernal world, a^ in the Eleusinian mythus, where Perse- phone is forfeited to the Realm of Aides, at least for th^ winter season, for eating some pomegranate-kernels;* then in the mystic legends, according to which the pomegranate- tree is at one time said to h^ve sprung from the blood of Dionysus,' and at another from that of the Phrygian god Agdistis ; * and also in the story that the Furies planted a pomegranate-tree on the grave of Eteocles the Theban, fron^ ' Athen., xiv. p. 650 sq. ? ApoUod., i. 4, 3, ^ The Delian legend, the beginning of which is given in Dionys. Hal. on Dinarch., p. 661. Reiske. Diodor., v. 62. * ApoUonius of Tyana in Philostrat., iv. 28, p. 168. Olear. also speaks of the pomegranate as a symbol in the worship of Hera. ^ Antiph, in Athen., iii. p. 84°. According to Clemens, Strom, vi. 15, p. 288, Sylb., the ^0161, was also sacred to Hermes. ^ Voss, indeed, was of opinion (on Hymn to Dem., 373) that the kernels of pomegranates had here no significance, and that tliey were taken in quite a general sense for all fruits that grow in tlie fields of Hades. Besides, Persephone, to prevent hunger, ate the usual food of the gods during her stay in the infernal world. ' Clemens. Protrept., c. 8, § 19, p. 6 Sylb. * Arnob. adv. gentes, v. 6. 342 APPENDIX. the fruit of which blood always streamed afresh.' It is ma- nifest, that partly the great abundance of seeds, partly also the reddish colour of the kernels and the flesh of the pome- granate, gave rise to these fictions, and the notion altogether of the fruit's significance ; and likewise the circumstance that the fruit when ripening bursts, and the flesh, with its blood-red grains, protrudes. To prevent this splitting of pomegranates was always, we are informed by Columella and Palladius, a principal concern with ancient fruit-gar- deners. There is still another my thus, which refers to the disap- pearance of Orion after sunset, and which I cannot help ascribing to the elder period of myth-formation, although we first hear of it from Istrus, the pupil of Callimachus.^ Here it is said that Artemis loved Orion, and was almost resolved to wed him. Apollo was dissatisfied with the match, but could not prevail upon his sister to abandon her design. Now, he once descried Orion swimming in the sea at a distance, with his head only above the waves, and immediately challenged his sister to a trial of her skill in archery, asserting that however well she might understand the use of the bow, she was not able to hit the dark object which was seen out in the sea. Artemis was deceived by this, and in the eagerness of the contest pierced her lover's head with her arrows. When the tide afterwards floated his body to the shore, and Artemis discovered the hapless aim of her archery, she bitterly wept over him, and placed him among the stars as a sort of compensation. Here the head of Orion, standing out of the sea, or more originally the Ocean, manifestly denotes the setting of the constella- tion. Death overtakes Orion, because he then completely sinks ; that it is occasioned by Artemis is taken from the legend familiar to every ancient Greek : but the circum- ' Philost. Imagines, ii. 29. Raoul-Rochette remarks a sepulchral reference of the pomegranates on monuments, in his Monumens Inedits, T. i. p. 159. - In Hygin., P. A. ii. 34:. Istri Fragvn. Coll. Lenz et Siebelis, p. 69. APPENDIX. 343 stance that she afterwards placed him amid the stars was added at a time when the fact was overlooked, that Orion in the Heavens had been already the subject of fable. Even the circumstance that Orion's head appears like a dark spot on the horizon can be justified from the aspect of the con- stellation ; contrasted with the splendour of the shoulders, the head appears dim and dark. It may be asserted, on the other hand, that Istrus did not here repeat the original story, — that he makes Orion smm in the sea. In the genuine poetical representation Orion was conceived to be a giant,^ who — Cum pedes incedit, medii per maxima Nerei Stagna viam scindens, humero supereminet undas ; Aut, summis referens annosam montibus omijm, Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit. The appearance of Orion is thus described by Virgil,^ as well at his rising and setting as when he is high in the heavens ; and here he doubtless followed ancient Greek authors. Pherecydes the logographer,^ in like manner ascribes this wading through the sea to Orion, as his pe- culiar art, which his father, Poseidon, had conferred on him ; and there can be no doubt that the entire genealogy, according to which Orion is son of Poseidon and Euryale, rests on the notion above referred to, that Orion after setting in the West, treads the bottom of the Ocean, and travels round the earth to the East. There is likewise ground for assuming that Virgil borrowed from a more an- cient Greek the image of a hunter climbing a hill, to describe Orion ascending the sky, and that therefore the southern region of the heavens, which seems to bear up the stars in and near the Zodiac, was compared to a mountain. We can then also explain the passage in the Odyssey,* where Odysseus tells of the shadowy forms which he observed in 1 Pindar alludes to his gigantic size in the expression puo/s 'napmtla. Isth., iii. 67. 2 ^n., X. 764 sqq. Comp. Theocr. in the passages above quoted, vii. 56. 3 In ApoUod., i. 4, 3. ^ XI. 531 sqq. 344 APPENDIX. the infernal world, in such a way that we can at the same time retain the idea of the constellation. Thv di fih', 'flg/wra 'riXd^iov eieev6ti(ta &ij^a,g o/iiou siXiuvra xar' ci.g(podsXhv "Kii/Jjuva T0O5 auThg xaTivsipviv Jv oio'SoKokSiv o^tedi Xsoif/v i%oi\i '^ovaXov •xay^dXTiiov alh dayig. In that case the game are figures in the sky which Orion chases before him so long as he is in the heavens, and climbs up that lonely mountain; when he goes down, it is assumed that he still, in the land of shadows, pursues the same ani- mals transformed into shades. The legends hitherto examined all bear in themselves the character of antiquity. The phenomena with which they are connected, are all obvious to the senses, and attract ob- servation ; the creations of fancy have that simplicity and childlikeness which belonged to the poetry of nature in the ante-Homeric ages. It is otherwise with the following nar- ration, which could not have originated till the Alexan- drian age ; at all events not long before. Our authorities for it are Euphorion,i and Aratus,^ who lived in the third century before Christ ; the latter, however, already describes it as a story handed down by the ancients, {legtregm Xoyos); but the fact that Pherecydes^ the logographer, (about 450 years before Christ,) is quoted for it, rests probably on an error. Besides, it has been very frequently repeated by the ancient compilers of mythi.* It is stated in these narra- tions that Orion boasted to Artemis of his superior strength and skill in venery, or that he was guilty of unbecoming 1 Schol, Ven. II., xviii. 486. Schol, Odyss., v. 120. Euphorion'a Fragm. Meineke, n. 108, p. 161. 2 Phaen. 637, where there is some difference in the narration. 3 Schol. Leid* ad II., xviii. 486 in Heyne ad II. Comp, Heyne on Apollod,, i. 4, 3j p. 23, Sturz. Pherecyd. Fragm. 36, p. 153, ed. alt. 4 Nicand. Ther. 13, with the Schol. Ovid, Fasti v. 631. The Eo-called Eratosth, Catast. 7; Lucan, ix. 836. Palsephatus, 6. Schol. Odyss. ih. Also the Meletemm., edited by Creuzer, fasc. 1, p, 61. Eustath. ad Odyss., v. 121, p, 1627, 44. Nigiduis in the Schol. to Gei-manicus, v. 80. Schol. to Statins, Theb. iii. 27. Nonnus ad Gregor. Nazianz. Narr. 2, in Creuzer s Meletemm., i. p. 68. Eudocia, Violar. p. 441. APPENDIX. 345 conduct towards Artemis, or that he, with unbridled lust, laid hands on the virgin Dpis, who was beloved by Artemis, and who brought ears of corn from the Hyperboreans, (oZmi a/taXXopogos) ; that Artemis, then, in order to chas- tise, and at the same time humble his insolence, caused the Scorpion to issue from the earth, by which Orion was stung in the ancle, and thereby killed. That Zeus out of compassion placed Orion among the stars ; but that even here he goes down from ancient enmity when the Scorpion becomes visible in the heavens. It is perfectly manifest that the whole story has its significance, and the cause of its origin, in the last circumstance ; but it is just as clear thut the Scorpion was not added to the older mythus of Orion's death by the arrows of Artemis, until that name had been given to the Zodiacal sign which lies opposite to Orion, and rises above the horizon, when Orion is in the act of setting. But the Scorpion does not belong to the an- cient constellations with which Grecian fable and poetry were conversant ; it could not have been known to the Greeks before the complete division of the Zodiac, for which we are unquestionably indebted to the Chaldseans : there is also observable in the relation into which such opposite con- stellations are brought, more of the ingenious combination of a later period than the living intuition of earlier ages.'^ On the other hand, it appears that at a much earlier period^ the astrognostic legend was carried out farther than the vanishing of Orion, and that a continuation of Orion's history was invented. In Boeotia there were stories about daughters of Orion, who were called Coronian virgins, and who, by the command of an oracle, were about to be offered up as propitiatory sacrifices, in order that the country might be delivered from a famine, when the subterranean deities, out of compassion, placed them in the heavens, where 1 Upis also is perhaps introduced into this legend for the same reason, to gain a further reference to the constellations. For this bearer of corn-ears manifestly points to the Virgin with the Ear of Corn in the Zodiac. A particular relation of the constellations to each other cannot indeed be pointed out. 346 APPENDIX. they appear as Comets.' A particular case, in which a comet first became visible in the neighbourhood of Orion, might, perhaps, have been the reason why comets were re- garded as having proceeded from Orion, and were called his children. A similar story is told by Aratus ^ of Electra, one of the Pleiades, who was so overwhelmed with grief at the destruction of Troy, the city of her affections, that she left her group of sisters in the sky, and, letting her long hair hang down, as is the custom of the afflicted, made her appearance again in the form of a comet. Thus far does the fable of Orion speak in an intelligible manner of the constellation. We shall not attempt to force into this circle all the other legends which are con- nected with the name of Orion. I refrain from this the more, because to him who is once possessed with certain ideas, even forced and artificial combinations which serve to widen the circle appear natural and attractive. But g,ltogether, it must, in my opinion, be acknowledged, that the name and idea of the giant Orion had not, at first, their place in the sky. Such a person must certainly have been already present to the imagination, before the eye could discover it in the heavens. Orion might have been a primitive god in Boeotia, belonging to times prior to those in which the system of Olympian gods was developed and established. With regard to his name, which, in the original form, (in Corinna, Pindar, and Callimachus,) was 'ilaglm, the opinion laid down by Buttmann,^ that it was connected with the name of Ares, possesses great probabi- lity. Hence, the heroic legend placed him in the Boeotian town of Hyria, from which, in the mythological period, great families of heroes seem actually to have issued, and called him a son of King Hyrieus, the tribe-hero of Hyria. 1 Antoninus Liberalis Met. 26. Comp. Orchoraenos, p. 200. ^ '^v Tip ^jJs 0EoVg(nroD ImxijSs/^ in tlie Schol. II. xviii. 486. ^ In Ideler, " Investigations on the Origin and Signification of the Names of tlie Stars," p. 331 sq : and in the Treatise on the Origin of the Constellations, p. 38. Regarding Orion as an ancient god of battle, see also Orch., p. 100, n. 2. APPENDIX. 347 This Hyria, in the mouth of the Boeotians, was called Uria/ as Hyrieus was pronounced Urieus ;^ and in my opin- ion it was merely from the sound of these names strik- ing other Greeks, that the disgusting legend of Orion's birth originated, which we would gladly banish from a cycle of fables otherwise so beautiful, and in which I cannot bring myself, with Buttmann,* to see a reference to the grouping of the stars in the figure of Orion. ' This form of name, which the analogy of the Boeotian dialect re- quires, is to be found, as Welcker has remarked, in the fragment of an iEolian poet in Priscian, p. 664. Putsch. KaXX/;^ogou ^Aii/Jf Ou- g/as Souyarjig. As to this fragment, Welcker, Alcmanis Fragm. 129, and Corinna, Creuzeri Meletemm. fasc. ii. p. 1?; Matthise Akaei Fragm. Inc. 122, p. 69 ; and Welcker in the review of that work, in Jahns Jahrbiicher, Jahrg. v. Bd. i. H. 1. in lo. With Welcker, I think it most likely that the verse belongs to Corinna. Corinna, who was a Tanagrsean, certainly treated extensively the legends of the neighbouring Hyria. She represented Orion as a noble and pious man, a civilizer of the barbarous country, (Schol. Nicand. Ther. 13, according to an obvious emendation ;) he was with her a great rural king, (according to the fragm. in ApoUon. Dyscolus ;) the same Boeotian poetess (as I am persuaded) is also referred to as the source of that fable of the daughters of Orion. In Plutarch, also, De ex- ilio, 9, for ©ouf/as, which is named as the native country of Orion, I would read Oug/as, not "Tj/as. The Boeotians are entitled to caU the Boeotian town with the Boeotian name. In Antoninus, Liber 12, the iEtolian lake, Hyria, (in Ovid Met., vii. 371,) which is called Hydra in the ordinary text of Strabo, x. p. 460, is denominated Thyrie ; but here, also, it is probable that we must assume the dia- lectic collateral form, and for ©TPIH read OTPIH. _ 2 Orch., p. 99. Where 'Clptiis is to be met with, it probably rests merely on ignorance of the form Ov^ieus, (Schol. Nicand. Ther. 16. Tzetz. Lye. 328.) But that Orion has even been called Ouj/'wn, (Ovid, Fasti v. 635 ; Hygin., P.A. ii. 34, and others,) seems to_ be etymological play. This does not agree with 'Cla^iuv as the origi- nal form, which, according to Corinna and Pindar, must have been the name employed in Boeotia itself. 3 On the Origin of the Constellations, p. 44. 348 APPENDIX. THE GROTTO OF HERMES AT PYLUS.' The Numbers of the great work of the Expedition Scien- tifique de Moree, which have hitherto appeared, in the department of Architecture and Sculpture, will have some- what disappointed those who expected, from the very outset, accounts of interesting excavations and important discov- eries ; and it must be confessed that the size of the work, and the magnificence with which it is got up, do not altogether bear a due proj)ortion to what is presented to us in so splendid a fbrin. However, of the three Numbers which have yet come to the writer's hands, the second con- tains the description and drawing, — not indeed of a work of art, but of a patural object,: — by which a startling light is thrown on a passage in an ancient Homeridian poem, with- out, however, the slightest suspicion of it entering the minds of the editors of this sumptuous work. It seems wprth while to give a more minute account of this matter. Northward from the bay, which is for the most part closed in by the famous islancj of Sphacteria, stands on a promontcj-y of Mess0nia, an ancient fortress, which now receives the name of Zonchio, but which in the time of Thucydides was called Coryphasion by the Spartans, and Messenian Pylus by the rest of the Greeks. A lake almost entirely separates the hill on which it stands from Messenia; only on the North several narrow sandy tracts lead along the bay to this promontory. As we descend from the for- tress, with our faces turned noj-thwardg, we find among the very steep rocks which command the lake, and above the pandy sea-beach, a tolerably large grotto, which is now called the Cave of Nestor. The position of the grotto is correctly given in the above-mentioned work, in the Plans 1 Hyperboreish-Romische Studien fiir Archaologie, Erster Theil. Berlin, 1833. APPENDIX. 349 of Pylus, and the landscape in pi. 6, fig. 1, under F, and fig. 2, under H. A ground-plan and a view of the grotto itself are to be found at pi. 7, fig. 1 and 2, with which the descriptive notices, p. 4 and 6, are to be compared. It is a Grotto of Stalactites. The entrance faces the North, and inside it receives light from a fissure in the rock. Whether the name of " Nestor's grotto" is to be justified or rejected, is a point which the editors of the French work leave to Archaeologists. Now, this name is certainly not without foundation and significance : for Pansanias states,' that within the city of Pylus, in Messenia, there was a cavern in which the cattle of Nestor, and, still earlier, of Neleus, had their stall.- Probably the town of Pylus at that time extended so fdr northwards from thecitadel that this cavern was comprehended in it ; and hence it appears there can be no doubt as to its identity. I have^ however, in the title to this essay,- called this same Pylian cave the Grotto of Hermes ; for there can be just as little doubt that it is no other than the cave into which^ according to the Peloponnesian legend, Hermes, when a little boy, drove the cattle which he stole from Apollo, in order to conceal them. In the account of this theft given by Antoninus Liberalis,'' and which is partly borrowed from the Hesiodic Eoese, it is stated that Hermes concealed the cattle in the rocky hill at Coryphasion, near the shore of the Ionian Sea. In Ovid,' too, although the story is otherwise much altered,- the cattle are concealed among the rocks of Pylus. But, in like manner, a high-vaulted grotto (au?wo» V'^ifisKahiof)* at Pylus^ is also mentioned in the Homeridian hymn to Hermes^ as the place whither the thievish boy drove the oxen along the shore. ^ At the same time, indeed, there is no indication whatever given that the cave itself lay within the city of Pylus ; but in early times this was actually not the case, as the ancient Pylus of Messenia — now generally held to 1 IV. 36. 3. ' Metamorph. c. 23. 5 Metam. II, v. 684 and 703. * V. 103. ' V. 216. 342. 398. ' V. 341. 350 APPENDIX. be that of Nestor — was not situated at the headland of Coryphasion, but on the hill .^Egaleus. It was only after the destruction of that town that a portion of the inhabi- tants founded a city at the foot of Coryphasion,' within which the grotto might be included. If, at the same time, the river Alpheus is often mentioned in such a way that the poet seems to place it nearer Pylus than it actually is,^ in regard to the Messenian Pylus, perhaps the reason is merely to be found in this, that by means of the Homeric poems, it became customary to unite the Alpheus and Pylus, without much inquiry being made as to the exact geographical position. When the author of these lines had, in the foregoing man- ner, arrived at the conviction that the Grotto of Stalactites, described by the Expedition, is actually the same that the Homeride, or rather the Peloponnesian legend of the cattle-theft by Hermes, had in view, it was also immediately evident to him that the explanation of a passage in the Homeridian Hymn, to which indeed the sense and context had already led him, thereby received an exceedingly wel- come confirmation. When the poet has described how Hermes killed two oxen that were separated from the herd, cut in pieces their flesh, and roasted it on spits, he goes on, accorditig to the old reading of the passage, from verse 124 : giniig S i^tTatrndde xaTadTXKp'iku) svl Tirpf], iig 'in v!jv ra/isr agea, i7ro'ko'XJ^6vioi '?rep{ia,giv Earlier scholars attempted to translate this passage as it is given here. Barnes, for example, thus : Pelles autem eos- tendit super asperam petram, qttasi adhuc nunc secassei, quw diufuerint, diu utique postea ac temere. Is any proof needed that here there is as little meaning as observance of the most ordinary rules of conjugation. Ilgen, after a long dis- putatiotl) which we cannot here follow, comes to the result, that we must read — iit iTi vDv Ta//ilt}i ra ^roXu^g^wa vipuagm, ' Strabo, viii. p. 359. " V. 101, 139, 398. APPENDIX. 351 Sicut etiam nunc promus condus (esutendit), quotquot ea sunt natura, ut longum tempus durent. His opinion is, that Hermes spread out the skins upon the rocks, as even now a steward spreads out the hides which will keep without rotting. But that the hides of cattle keep when they are dried is a thing which is self-evident, and is here the most useless remark in the world. Moreover, the alteration of the passage which is proposed at the same time has no probability in its favour. Hermann's view of the passage is a modification of Ilgen's. This critic proposes to read iiS 'in vDv ravu&' adtta, woXuj^gov/a 'irsipia.giv quemadmodvm nunc quoque, multopost, tmehintur, quae natura ad diuturnitatem facta svmt. Hermes cut out of the hides the softer parts, which readily decay, and spread out the rest. But who would consider it natural and fitting that this remark, whose technical value we leave out of the question, should be here intruded in such a way : Hermes spread out the hides as they are even now spread out, namely, that part of them that is durable. All these ex- planations likewise suffer from the inconvenience that flroXuxgo"" 3'°*! ^If*" ^'5 /*«''