 Section 36 of Bullfinch's Mythology This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Graham Redmond. Bullfinch's Mythology The Age of Fable by Thomas Bullfinch Section 36 Modern Monsters The Phoenix Basilisk Unicorn Salamander Modern Monsters There is a set of imaginary beings which seem to have been the successors of the Gorgons, Hydras and Chimera's Dyer of the old superstitions, and having no connection with the false gods of paganism, to have continued to enjoy an existence in the popular belief after paganism was superseded by Christianity. They are mentioned perhaps by the classical writers, but their chief popularity and currency seem to have been in more modern times. We seek our accounts of them not so much in the poetry of the ancients as in the old natural history books and narrations of travellers. The accounts which we are about to give are taken chiefly from the penny-cyclopedia. The Phoenix Ovid tells the story of the Phoenix as follows. Most beings spring from other individuals, but there is a certain kind which reproduces itself. The Assyrians call it the Phoenix. It does not live on fruit or flowers, but on frankincense and odoriferous gums. When it has lived five hundred years, it builds itself a nest in the branches of an oak, or on the top of a palm tree. In this it collects cinnamon and spikennard and myrrh, and of these materials builds a pile on which it deposits itself, and dying breathes out its last breath amidst odors. On the body of the parent bird, a young Phoenix issues forth, destined to live as long a life as its predecessor. When this has grown up and gained sufficient strength, it lifts its nest from the tree, its own cradle and its parent's sepulchre, and carries it to the city of Heliopolis in Egypt, and deposits it in the Temple of the Sun. Such is the account given by a poet. Now let us see that of a philosophic historian. Tacitus says, in the consulship of Paulus Fabius, AD 34, the miraculous bird known to the world by the name of the Phoenix, after disappearing for a series of ages, revisited Egypt. It was attended in its flight by a group of various birds, all attracted by the novelty, and gazing with wonder at so beautiful an appearance. He then gives an account of the bird, not varying materially from the preceding, but adding some details. The first care of the young bird, as soon as fledged and able to trust to his wings, is to perform the obsequies of his father. But this duty is not undertaken rashly. He collects a quantity of myrrh, and to try his strength makes frequent excursions with the load on his back. When he has gained sufficient confidence in his own vigor, he takes up the body of his father and flies with it to the altar of the sun, where he leaves it to be consumed in flames of fragrance. Other writers add a few particulars. The myrrh is compacted in the form of an egg, in which the dead phoenix is enclosed. From the mouldering flesh of the dead bird a worm springs, and this worm, when grown large, is transformed into a bird. Herodotus describes the bird, though he says, I have not seen it myself except in a picture. Out of his plumage is gold-coloured and part crimson, and he is for the most part very much like an eagle in outline and bulk. The first writer who disclaimed a belief in the existence of the phoenix was Sir Thomas Brown in his Volga Errors published in 1646. He was replied to a few years later by Alexander Ross, who says, in answer to the objection of the phoenix, so seldom making his appearance, his instinct teaches him to keep out of the way of the tyrant of the creation man, for if he were to be got at, some wealthy glutton would surely devour him, though there were no more in the world. Dryden, in one of his early poems, has this allusion to the phoenix. Though when the newborn phoenix first is seen, her feathered subjects all adore their queen, and while she makes her progress through the east, from every grove her numerous trains increased, each poet of the air her glory sings, and round him the pleased audience clapped their wings. Milton, in Paradise Lost Book Five, compares the angel Raphael descending to earth to a phoenix. Down thither prone in flight his speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing, now on the polar winds, then with quick fan winnows the buxomere, till within soar of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems a phoenix gazed by all, as that sole bird when to enshrine his relics in the sun's bright temple to Egyptian thieves he flies. The Cockatrice or Basilisk This animal was called the King of the Serpents. In confirmation of his royalty, he was said to be endowed with a crest or comb upon the head constituting a crown. He was supposed to be produced from the egg of a cock hatched under toads or serpents. There were several species of this animal. One species burned up whatever they approached. A second were a kind of wandering Medusa's heads, and their look caused an instant horror which was immediately followed by death. In Shakespeare's play of Richard III, Lady Anne, in answer to Richard's compliment on her eyes, says, Would they were Basilisks to strike thee dead? The Basilisks were called Kings of Serpents, because all other serpents and snakes behaving like good subjects, and wisely not wishing to be burned up or struck dead, fled the moment they heard the distant hiss of their King, although they might be in full feed upon the most delicious prey, leaving the sole enjoyment of the banquet to the royal monster. The Roman naturalist Pliny thus describes him. He does not impel his body, like other serpents, by a multiplied flexion, but advances lofty and upright. He kills the shrubs not only by contact but by breathing on them, and splits the rocks such power of evil is there in him. It was formerly believed that if killed by a spear from on horseback, the power of the poison conducted through the weapon killed not only the rider, but the horse also. After this, Lucan alludes in these lines. What though the more the Basilisks hath slain, and pinned him lifeless to the sandy plain, up through the spear the subtle venom flies, the hand imbibes it, and the victor dies. Such a prodigy was not likely to be passed over in the legends of the saints. Only we find it recorded that a certain holy man, going to a fountain in the desert, suddenly beheld a basilisk. He immediately raised his eyes to heaven, and with a pious appeal to the deity, laid the monster dead at his feet. These wonderful powers of the basilisk are attested by a host of learned persons, such as Galen, Avicenna, Scaliger, and others. Occasionally one would demer to some part of the tale while he admitted the rest. Johnston, a learned physician, sagesly remarks, I would scarcely believe that it kills with its look, for who could have seen it and lived to tell the story? The worthy sage was not aware that those who went to hunt the basilisk of this sort took with them a mirror, which reflected back the deadly glare upon its author, and by a kind of poetical justice slew the basilisk with his own weapon. But what was to attack this terrible and unapproachable monster? There is an old saying that everything has its enemy, and the cockatrice quailed before the weasel. The basilisk might look daggers. The weasel cared not, but advanced boldly to the conflict. When bitten, the weasel retired for a moment to eat some roux, which was the only plant the basilisks could not wither, returned with renewed strength and soundness to the charge, and never left the enemy till he was stretched dead on the plane. The monster, too, as if conscious of the irregular way in which he came into the world, was supposed to have a great antipathy to a cock, and, well, he might, for as soon as he heard the cock crow he expired. The basilisk was of some use after death. Thus we read that its carcass was suspended in the temple of Apollo and in private houses as a sovereign remedy against spiders, and that it was also hung up in the temple of Diana, for which reason no swallow ever dared enter the sacred place. The reader will, we apprehend, by this time have had enough of absurdities, but still we can imagine his anxiety to know what a cockatrice was like. The following is from Eldra Vandus, a celebrated naturalist of the sixteenth century, whose work on natural history in thirteen folio volumes contains with much that is valuable a large proportion of fables and inutilities. In particular he is so ample on the subject of the cock and the bull that from his practice all rambling gossiping tales of doubtful credibility are called cock and bull stories. Eldra Vandus, however, deserves our respect and esteem as the founder of a botanic garden, and as a pioneer in the now prevalent custom of making scientific collections for purposes of investigation and research. Shelley, in his ode to Naples, full of the enthusiasm excited by the intelligence of the proclamation of a constitutional government at Naples in 1820, thus uses an allusion to the basilisk. What those Cimmerian annex dare blaspheme freedom and thee, a new Actian's error shall theirs have been devoured by their own hands. Be thou like the imperial basilisk killing thy foe with unapparent wounds, gaze on oppression till at that dread risk, aghast she pass from the earth's disk. Here not but gaze, for free men mightier grow and slaves more feeble, gazing on their foe. The Unicorn Pliny, the Roman naturalist, out of whose account of the unicorn most of the modern unicorns have been described and figured, records it as a very ferocious beast, similar in the rest of its body to a horse with the head of a deer, the feet of an elephant, the tail of a boar, a deep bellowing voice, and a single black horn, two cubits in length, standing out in the middle of its forehead. He adds that it cannot be taken alive, and some such excuse may have been necessary in those days for not producing the living animal upon the arena of the amphitheatre. The unicorn seems to have been a sad puzzle to the hunters, who hardly knew how to come at so valuable a piece of game. Some described the horn as movable at the will of the animal a kind of small sword in short with which no hunter who was not exceedingly cunning in fence could have a chance. Others maintained that all the animal's strength lay in its horn, and that when hard-pressed in pursuit it would throw itself from the pinnacle of the highest rock's horn foremost, so as to pitch upon it, and then quietly march off not a whit the worse for its fall. But it seems they found out how to circumvent the poor unicorn at last. They discovered that it was a great lover of purity and innocence, so they took the field with a young virgin who was placed in the unsuspecting admirer's way. When the unicorn spied her, he approached with all reverence, couched beside her, and laying his head in her lap fell asleep. The treacherous virgin then gave a signal, and the hunters made in and captured the simple beast. Some zoologists, disgusted as they well may be with such fables as these, disbelieve generally the existence of the unicorn, yet there are animals bearing on their heads a bony protuberance more or less like a horn which may have given rise to the story. The rhinoceros horn, as it is called, is such a protuberance, though it does not exceed a few inches in height, and is far from agreeing with the descriptions of the horn of the unicorn. The nearest approach to a horn in the middle of the forehead is exhibited in the bony protuberance on the forehead of the giraffe. But this also is short and blunt, and is not the only horn of the animal but a third horn standing in front of the two others. And fine, though it would be presumptuous to deny the existence of a one-horned quadruped other than the rhinoceros, it may be safely stated that the insertion of a long and solid horn in the living forehead of a horse-like or deer-like animal is as near an impossibility as anything can be. The salamander. The following is from the Life of Benvenuto Cellini, an Italian artist of the 16th century written by himself. When I was about five years of age, my father, happening to be in a little room in which they had been washing, and where there was a good fire of oak burning, looked into the flames and saw a little animal resembling a lizard which could live in the hottest part of that element. Finally perceiving what it was, he called for my sister and me, and after he had shown us the creature he gave me a box on the ear. I fell a-crying, while he, soothing me with caresses, spoke these words. My dear child, I do not give you that blow for any fault you have committed, but that you may recollect that the little creature you see in the fire is a salamander, such a one as never was beheld before to my knowledge. So saying, he embraced me, and gave me some money. It seems unreasonable to doubt a story of which Signor Cellini was both an eye and ear witness, and to which the authority of numerous sage-philosophers at the head of whom are Aristotle and Pliny affirms this power of the salamander. According to them the animal not only resists fire, but extinguishes it, and when he sees the flame charges it as an enemy which he well knows how to vanquish. That the skin of an animal which could resist the action of fire should be considered proof against that element is not to be wondered at. We accordingly find that a cloth made of the skin of salamanders, for there really is such an animal, a kind of lizard, was incombustible, and very valuable for wrapping up such articles as were too precious to be entrusted to any other envelopes. These fire-proof cloths were actually produced, said to be made of salamander's wool, though the knowing ones detected that the substance of which they were composed was asbestos, a mineral which is in fine filaments capable of being woven into a flexible cloth. The foundation of the above fables is supposed to be the fact that the salamander really does secrete from the pores of his body a milky juice, which when he is irritated is produced in considerable quantity, and would doubtless for a few moments defend the body from fire. Then it is a hibernating animal, and in winter retires to some hollow tree or other cavity where it coils itself up and remains in a torpid state till the spring again calls it forth. It may therefore sometimes be carried with the fuel to the fire, and wake up only time enough to put forth all its faculties for its defence. Its viscous juice would do good service, and all who professed to have seen it acknowledged that it got out of the fire as fast as its legs could carry it, indeed too fast for them ever to make prize of one, except in one instance, and in that one the animal's feet and some parts of its body were badly burned. Dr. Young, in the night thoughts, with more quaintness than good taste, compares the skeptic who can remain unmoved in the contemplation of the starry heavens to a salamander unworned in the fire. An undevolved astronomer is mad, oh, what a genius must inform the skies! That is Lorenzo's salamander heart, cold and untouched amid these sacred fires. Chapter 37. Eastern Mythology. Zoroaster. Hindu Mythology. Cates. Buddha. The Grand Lama. Prestor John. Zoroaster. Our knowledge of the religion of the ancient Persians is principally derived from the Zendavesta, or sacred books of that people. Zoroaster was the founder of their religion, or rather the reformer of the religion which preceded him. The time when he lived is doubtful, but it is certain that his system became the dominant religion of Western Asia from the time of Cyrus, 550 BC, to the conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great. Under the Macedonian monarchy the doctrines of Zoroaster appear to have been considerably corrupted by the introduction of foreign opinions, but they afterwards recovered their ascendancy. Zoroaster taught the existence of a supreme being, who created two other misty beings and imparted to them as much of his own nature as seemed good to him. Of these, Armzoud, called by the Greeks or Amostides, remained faithful to his Creator and was regarded as the source of all good, while Arifman, Aramanese, rebelled and became the author of All Evil Upon the Earth. Ormuzd created man and supplied him with all the materials of happiness, but Araman marred this happiness by introducing evil into the world, and creating savage beasts and poisonous reptiles and plants. In consequence of this evil and good are now mingled together in every part of the world, and the followers of good and evil, the adherents of Ormuzd and Araman, carry on in seson ore. But this state of things will not last forever. The time will come when the adherents of Ormuzd shall everywhere be victorious, and Araman and his followers be consigned to darkness forever. The religious rites of the ancient Persians were exceedingly simple. They used neither temples, altars, nor statues, and performed their sacrifices on the tops of mountains. They adored fire, light, and sun as the emblems of Ormuzd, the source of all light and purity, but did not regard them as independent deities. The religious rites and ceremonies were regulated by the priest, who were called Magi. The learning of the Magi was connected with astrology and enchantment, in which they were so celebrated that their name was applied to all orders of magicians and enchanters. Wordsworth thus alludes to the worship of the Persians. The Persian, zealous to reject altar and image, and the inclusive walls and roofs of temples built by human hands, the loftiest heights ascending from their tops with myrtle wreath tiara on his brows, presented sacrifice to moon and stars and to the winds and mother elements, and the whole circle of heavens, for him a sensitive existence and a God. Excursion book four. In Child Harold Byron speaks thus of the Persian worship. Not vainly did the early Persian make his altar the high places, and the peak of earth or gazing mountains, and thus take a fit and unwalled temple, there to seek the spirit in whose honor shrines are weak. Upreared of human hands. Come and compare columns and idol dwellings, goth or Greek, with nature's realms of worship, earth and air, nor fix on fond abode to circumscribe thy prayer. Three. Ninety-one. The religion of Zoroaster continued to flourish even after the introduction of Christianity, and in the third century was the dominant faith of the East, till the rise of the Mohammedan power and the conquest of Persia by the Arabs in the seventh century, who compelled the greater number of the Persians to renounce their ancient faith. Those who refused to abandon the religion of their ancestors fled to the deserts of Kermon and to Hindustan, where they still exist under the name of Parsis, a name derived from Pars, the ancient name of Persia. The Arabs call them goobers, from an Arabic word signifying unbelievers. At Bombay the Parsis are at this day a very active, intelligent, and wealthy class. For purity of life, honesty, and conciliatory manners they are favorably distinguished. They have numerous temples to fire, which they adore as the symbol of the divinity. The Persian religion makes the subject of the finest tale in Moors, La Rook, the fire worshipers. The Goober chief says, Yes, I am of that impious race, those slaves of fire, that mourn and even hail their Creator's swelling place among the living lights of heaven. Yes, I am of that outcast crew, to Iran and to vengeance true. Who cursed the hour your Arabs came to desecrate our shines of flame, and swear before God's burning eye to break our country's chains or die? Hindu Mythology The religion of the Hindus is professedly founded on the Vedas. To these books of their scripture they attach the greatest sanctity, and state that Brahma himself composed them at the creation. But the present arrangement of the Vedas is attributed to the sage Vyasa about five thousand years ago. The Vedas undoubtedly teach the belief of one supreme God. The name of this deity is Brahma. His attributes are represented by the three personified powers of creation, preservation, and destruction, which, under the respective names of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, form the Tramurti or triad of principal Hindu gods. Of the inferior gods the most important are Indra, the god of heaven, of thunder, lightning, storm, and rain, Agni, the god of fire, Yama, the god of the infernal regions, Surya, the god of the sun. Brahma is the creator of the universe and the source from which all the individual deities have sprung, and into which all will ultimately be absorbed. As milk changes to curd and water to ice, so is Brahma variously transformed and diversified without aid of exterior means of any sort. The human soul, according to the Vedas, is a portion of the supreme ruler, as a spark is of the fire. Vishnu Vishnu occupies the second place in the triad of the Hindus, and is the personification of the preserving principal. To protect the world in various epics of danger, Vishnu descended to the earth in different incarnations or bodily forms, which descents are called avatars. They are very numerous, but ten are more particularly specified. The first avatar was Matsya, the fish, under which form Vishnu preserved Manu, the ancestor of the human race, during a universal deluge. The second avatar was in the form of a tortoise, which form he assumed to support the earth, when the gods were turning the sea for the beverage of immortality, Amrita. We may omit the other avatars, which were of the same general character, that is, interpositions to protect the right or to punish wrongdoers, and come to the ninth, which is the most celebrated of the avatars of Vishnu, in which he appeared in the human form of Krishna, an invincible warrior who by his exploits relieved the earth from the tyrants who oppressed it. Buddha is by the followers of the Brahmanical religion regarded as a delusive incarnation of Vishnu, assumed by him in order to induce the Asuras, opponents of the god, to abandon the sacred ordinances of the Vedas, by which means they lost their strength and supremacy. Kalki is the name of the tenth avatar in which Vishnu will appear at the end of the present age of the world to destroy all vice and wickedness, and to restore mankind to virtue and purity. Shiva. Shiva is the third person of the Hindu triad. He is the personification of the destroying principle. Though the third name he is in respect to the number of his worshippers and in the extension of his worship before either of the others. In the Hanas, the scriptures of the modern Hindu religion, no illusion is made to the original power of this god as a destroyer, that power not being to be called into exercise till after the expiration of twelve millions of years, or when the universe will come to an end, and Mahadeva, another name for Shiva, is rather the representative of regeneration than of destruction. The worshippers of Vishnu and Shiva form two sects, each of which proclaims the superiority of its favorite deity, denying the claims of the other, and Brahma, the creator, having finished his work, seems to be regarded as no longer active, and has now only one temple in India, while Mahaveda and Vishnu have many. The worshippers of Vishnu are generally distinguished by a greater tenderness for life and consequent abstinence from animal food, and a worship less cruel than that of the followers of Shiva. Juggernaut. Whether the worshippers of Juggernaut are to be reckoned among the followers of Vishnu or Shiva, our authorities differ. The temple stands near the shore, about three hundred miles southwest of Calcutta. The idol is a carved block of wood, with a hideous face, painted black, and a distended, blood-red mouth. On festival days the throne of the image is placed on a tower sixty feet high, moving on wheels. Six long ropes are attached to the tower, by which the people draw it along. The priests in their attendance stand round the throne on the tower, and occasionally turn to the worshippers with songs and gestures. While the tower moves along, numbers of the devout worshippers throw themselves on the ground in order to be crushed by the wheels, and the multitude shout an approbation of the act as a pleasing sacrifice to the idol. Every year, particularly at two great festivals in March and July, pilgrims flock in crowds to the temple. Not less than seventy or eighty thousand people are said to visit the place on these occasions when all casques eat together. CASES The division of the Hindus into classes or casques with fixed occupations existed from the earliest times. It is supposed by some to have been founded upon conquest, the first three casques being composed of a foreign race, who subdued the natives of the country and reduced them to an inferior caste. Others trace it to the fondness of perpetuating by descent from father to son, certain offices or occupations. The Hindu tradition gives the following account of the origin of the various case. At the creation Brahma resolved to give the earth inhabitants who should be direct emanations from his own body. Accordingly from his mouth came forth the eldest born, Brahma, the priest, to whom he confided the four Vedas. From his right arm issued Shatirya, the warrior, and from his left the warrior's wife. His thighs produced Vyasyas, male and female, agriculturalists and traders, and lastly from his feet sprang Sudras, mechanics and labors. The four sons of Brahma, so significantly brought into the world, became the fathers of the human race and heads of their respective casques. They were commanded to regard the four Vedas as containing all the rules of their faith and all that was necessary to guide them in their religious ceremonies. They were also commanded to take rank in the order of their birth, the Brahmins uppermost, as having sprung from the head of Brahma. A strong line of demarcation is drawn between the first three case and the Sudras. The former are allowed to receive instruction from the Vedas which is not permitted to the Sudras. The Brahmins possessed the privilege of teaching the Vedas and were in former times an exclusive possession of all knowledge. Though the sovereign of the country was chosen from the Shatirya class, also called Rajputs, the Brahmins possessed the real power and were the royal counsellors, the judges and magistrates of the country. Their persons and property were invaluable and though they committed the greatest crimes they could only be banished from the kingdom. They were to be treated by sovereigns with the greatest respect, for a Brahma, whether learned or ignorant, is a powerful divinity. When the Brahmin arrives at years of maturity it becomes his duty to marry. He ought to be supported by the contributions of the rich and not to be obliged to gain his subsistence by any laborious or productive occupation. But as all the Brahmins could not be maintained by the working classes of the community, it was found necessary to allow them to engage in productive employments. We need say little of the two intermediate classes whose rank and privileges may be readily inferred from their occupations. The Sudras or fourth class are bound to be servile attendants on the higher classes, especially the Brahmins, but they may follow mechanical occupations and practical arts as painting and writing, or become traders or husbandmen. Consequently they sometimes grow rich, and it will also sometimes happen that Brahmins become poor. That fact works its usual consequence, and rich Sudras sometimes employ poor Brahmins in menial occupations. There is another class lower even than the Sudras, for it is not one of the original pure classes, but springs from an unauthorized union of individuals of different case. These are the Parayas, who are employed in the lowest services and treated with the utmost severity. They are compelled to do what no one else can do without pollution. They are not only considered unclean themselves, but they render unclean everything they touch. They are deprived of all civil rights and stigmatized by particular laws regulating their mode of life, their houses, and their furniture. They are not allowed to visit the Pagodas or temples of the other case, but have their own Pagodas and religious exercises. They are not suffered to enter the houses of the other case. If it is done incautiously or from necessity, the place must be purified by religious ceremonies. They must not appear at public markets and are confined to the use of particular wells, which they are obliged to surround with bones of animals to warn others against using them. They dwell in miserable hovels, distant from cities and villages, and are under no restrictions in regard to food, which last is not a privilege but a mark of ignomy, as if they were so degraded that nothing could pollute them. The three higher cases are prohibited entirely the use of flesh. The fourth is allowed to use all kinds except beef, but only the lowest case is allowed every kind of food without restriction. Buddha Buddha, whom the Vedas represent as a delusive incarnation of Vishnu, is said by his followers to have been a mortal sage, whose name was Gautama, called also by the complementary epithets of Sakyashina, the lion, and Buddha, the sage. By a comparison of the various epics assigned to his birth, it is inferred that he lived about one thousand years before Christ. He was the son of a king, and went in conformity to the usage of the country he was a few days after his birth, presented before the altar of a deity, the image is said to have inclined its head as a presage of the future greatness of the newborn prophet. The child soon developed faculties of the first order, and became equally distinguished by the uncommon beauty of his person. No sooner had he grown to years of maturity than he began to reflect deeply on the depravity and misery of mankind, and he conceived the idea of retiring from society and devoting himself to meditation. His father in vain opposed this design. Buddha escaped the vigilance of his guards, and having found a secure retreat, lived for six years undisturbed in his devout contemplations. At the expiration of that period he came forward at Benares as a religious teacher. At first some who hurt him doubted of the soundness of his mind, but his doctrines soon gained credit, and were propagated so rapidly that Buddha himself lived to see them spread all over India. He died at the age of eighty years. The Buddhists reject entirely the authority of the Vedas and their religious observances prescribed in them and kept by the Hindus. They also reject the distinction of case and prohibit all bloody sacrifices and allow animal food. Their priests are chosen from all classes. They are expected to procure their maintenance by perambulation and begging, and among other things is their duty to endeavor to turn to some use things thrown aside as useless by others, and to discover the medicinal power of plants. But in Ceylon three orders of priests are recognized. Those of the highest order are usually men of high birth and learning, and are supported at the principal temples, most of which have been richly endowed by the former monarchs of the country. For several centuries after the appearance of Buddha his sect seems to have been tolerated by the Brahmins, and Buddhism appears to have penetrated the peninsula of Hindustan in every direction, and to have been carried to Ceylon and to the eastern peninsula. But afterwards it had to endure in India a long continued persecution which ultimately had the effect of entirely abolishing it in the country where it had originated, but to scatter it widely over adjacent countries. Buddhism appears to have been introduced into China about the year sixty-five of our era. From China it was subsequently extended to Korea, Japan, and Java. It is a doctrine alike of the Brahminical Hindus and of the Buddhist sect that the confinement of the human soul and emanation of the Divine Spirit in a human body is a state of misery, and the consequences of frailties and sins committed during former existences. But they hold that some individuals have appeared on this earth from time to time, not under the necessity of terrestrial existence, but who voluntarily descended to the earth to promote the welfare of mankind. These individuals have gradually assumed the character of reappearances of Buddha himself, in which capacity the line is continued till the present day, in the several Lamas of Tibet, China, and other countries where Buddhism prevails. In consequence of the victories of Ganges Khan and his successors, the Lama residing in Tibet was raised to the dignity of Chief Pontiff of the sect. A separate province was assigned to him as his own territory, and besides his spiritual dignity he became to a limited extent a temporal monarch. He is styled the Dalai Lama. The first Christian missionaries who proceeded to Tibet were surprised to find, there, in the heart of Asia, a Pontifical Court and several other ecclesiastical institutions resembling those of the Roman Catholic Church. They found convents for priests and nuns, also processions and forms of religious worship attended with much pomp and splendor, and many were induced by these similarities to consider Lamaism as a sort of degenerated Christianity. It is not improbable that the Lamas derived some of these practices from the Nestorian Christians who were settled in Tartary when Buddhism was introduced into Tibet. Prestur John. An early account communicated probably by traveling merchants of a Lama or spiritual chief among the Tartars seems to have occasioned in Europe the report of a Presbyter, or Prestur John, a Christian Pontif resident in Upper Asia. The Pope sent a mission in search of him, as did also Louis IX of France, some years later, but both missions were unsuccessful, though the small communities of Nestorian Christians, which they did find, served to keep up the belief in Europe that such a personage did exist somewhere in the East. At last, in the fifteenth century, a Portuguese traveller, Pedro Covilam, happening to hear that there was a Christian prince in the country of the Abyssinia, not far from the Red Sea, concluded that this must be the true Prestur John. He accordingly went thither and penetrated to the court of the King, whom he calls Negus. Milton alludes to him in Paradise Lost, Book XI, where describing Adam's vision of his descendants in their various nations and cities, scattered over the face of the earth, he says, nor did his eyes not ken the Empire of Negus to his utmost port, Ercoco and the less maritime kings, Mombasa and Quilo and Mellon. Northern mythology The stories which have engaged our attention thus far relate to the mythology of southern regions, but there is another branch of ancient superstitions which ought not to be entirely overlooked, especially as it belongs to the nations from which we, through our English ancestors, derive our origin. It is that of the northern nations, called Scandinavians, who inhabited the countries now known as Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Iceland. These mythological records are contained in two collections called the Eddas, of which the oldest is in poetry and dates back to the year 1056, the more modern or prose Edda being of the date of 1640. According to the Eddas there was once no heaven above nor earth beneath, but only a bottomless deep and a world of mist in which flowed a fountain. Twelve rivers issued from this fountain, and when they had flowed far from their source they froze into ice, and one layer accumulating over another the great deep was filled up. Southward from the world of mist was the world of light. From this flowed a warm wind upon the ice and melted it. The vapours rose in the air and formed clouds, from which sprang Imur, the frost giant, and his progeny, and the cow Aodhumla, whose milk afforded nourishment and food to the giant. The cow got nourishment by licking the hoarfrost and salt from the ice. While she was one day licking the salt stones there appeared at first the hair of a man, on the second day the whole head, and on the third the entire form endowed with beauty, agility and power. This new being was a god, from whom and his wife, a daughter of the giant race, sprang the three brothers, Odin, Vali and Vee. They slew the giant Imur, and out of his body formed the earth, of his blood the seas, of his bones the mountains, of his hair the trees, of his skull the heavens, and of his brain clouds charged with hail and snow. Of Imur's eyebrows the gods formed Midgard, Mid-earth, destined to become the abode of men. Odin then regulated the periods of day and night, and the seasons, by placing in the heavens the sun and moon, and appointing to them their respective courses. As soon as the sun began to shed its rays upon the earth it caused the vegetable world to bud and sprout. Shortly after the gods had created the world they walked by the side of the sea, pleased with their new work, but found that it was still incomplete, for it was without human beings. They therefore took an ashtray and made a man out of it, and they made a woman out of an elder, and called the manask and the woman embla. Odin then gave them life and soul, villi, reason and motion, and Vee bestowed upon them the senses, expressive features and speech. Midgard was then given them as their residence, and they became the progenators of the human race. The mighty ashtray, Igdrasil, was supposed to support the whole universe. It sprang from the body of Imur, and had three immense roots, extending one into Asgard, the dwelling of the gods, the other into Yotunhem, the abode of the giants, and the third to Niflhem, the regions of darkness and cold. By the side of each of these roots is a spring, from which it is watered. The root that extends into Asgard is carefully tended by the three Norns, goddesses who are regarded as the dispensers of fate. They are Edir, the past, Virandi, the present, Skol, the future. The spring at the Yotunhem side is Imur's well, in which wisdom and wit lie hidden, but that on Niflhem, feeds the Adonidhog, darkness, which perpetually gnaws at the root. Four hearts run across the branches of the tree, and bite the buds. They represent the four winds. Under the tree lies Imur, and when he tries to shake off its weight, the earthquakes. Asgard is the name of the abode of the gods, access to which is only gained by crossing the bridge, Bifrost, the rainbow. Asgard consists of golden and silver palaces, the dwellings of the gods, but the most beautiful of these is Valhalla, the residence of Odin. When seated on his throne he overlooks all heaven and earth. Upon his shoulders are the ravens Hunin and Munin, who fly every day over the whole world, and on their return report to him all they have seen and heard. At his feet lie his two wolves, Jerry and Frecky, to whom Odin gives all the meat that is set before him, for he himself stands in no need of food. Mead is for him both food and drink. He invented the runic characters, and it is the business of the Naans to engrave the runes of fate upon a metal shield. From Odin's name, spelled Woden, as it sometimes is, came Wednesday, the name of the fourth day of the week. Odin is frequently called Al-Fadu, All-Father, but this name is sometimes used in a way that shows that the Scandinavians had an idea of a deity superior to Odin, uncreated and eternal. Of the joys of Valhalla, Valhalla is the greatest hall of Odin, wherein he feast with his chosen heroes, all those who have fallen bravely in battle, for all who die a peaceful death are excluded. The flesh of the boar, Srimina, is served up to them, and is abundant for all. For although this boar is cooked every morning, he becomes whole again every night. For drink the heroes are supplied abundantly with mead from the she-goat, Headrom. When their heroes are not feasting, they amuse themselves with fighting. Every day they ride out into the court, or field, and fight until they cut each other into pieces. This is their pastime, but when mealtime comes, they recover from their wounds and return to feast in Valhalla. The Valkyrie. The Valkyrie are warlike virgins, mounted upon horses, and armed with helmets and spears. Odin, who is desirous to collect a great many heroes in Valhalla, to be able to meet the giants in a day when the final contest must come, sends down to every battlefield to make choice of those who shall be slain. The Valkyrie are his messengers, and their name means chosen of the slain. When they ride forth on their errand, their armour sheds a strange flickering light, which flashes up over the northern skies, making what men call the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights. Footnote, Grey's Ode, the Fatal Sisters, is founded on this superstition of Thor and the Other Gods. Thor, the Thunderer, Odin's eldest son, is the strongest of gods and men, and possesses three very precious things. The first is a hammer, which both the Frost and the Mountain Giants know to their cost, when they see it hurled against them in the air, for it is split many a skull of their fathers and kindred. When thrown, it returns to his hand of its own accord. The second rare thing he possesses is called the Belt of Strength. When he girds it about him, his divine might is doubled. The third, also very precious, is his iron gloves, which he puts on whenever he would use his mallet efficiently. From Thor's name is derived our word Thursday. Frey is one of the most celebrated of the gods. He presides over rain and sunshine, and all the fruits of the earth. His sister Freyja is the most propitious of the goddesses. She loves music, spring, and flowers, and is particularly fond of the elves, fairies. She is very fond of love-dities, and all lovers would do well to invoke her. Brazzi is the god of poetry, and his song records the deeds of warriors. His wife, Ayduna, keeps in a box the apples which the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to become young again. Heimdall is the watchman of the gods, and is therefore placed on the borders of heaven to prevent the giants from forcing their way over the bridge B. Frost, the rainbow. He requires less sleep than a bird, and sees by night as well as by day a hundred miles around him. So acute is his ear that no sound escapes him, for he can even hear the grass grow and the wool on a sheep's back, of Loki and his progeny. There is another deity who is described as the culminator of the gods, and the contriver of all fraud and mischief. His name is Loki. He is handsome and well-made, but of a very fickle mood and most evil disposition. He is of the giant race, but forced himself into the company of the gods, and seems to take pleasure in bringing them into difficulties, and in extracting them out of the danger by his cunning wit and skill. Loki has three children. The first is the wolf Fenris, the second the mid-god serpent, the third hella, Death. The gods were not ignorant that these monsters were growing up, and that they would one day bring much evil upon gods and men. So Odin deemed it advisable to send one to bring them to him. When they came, he threw the serpent into that deep ocean by which the earth is surrounded, but the monster had grown to such an enormous size that, holding his tail in his mouth, he encircles the whole earth. Hella he cast into Nivelhem, and gave her power over nine worlds or regions, into which she distributes those who are sent to her, that is, all who die of sickness or old age. Her hall is called Elvindana. Hunger is her table, starvation her knife, delay her man, slowness her maid, precipice her threshold, care her bed, and burning anguish forms the hangings of the apartments. She may easily be recognized, for her body is half flesh-colour and half blue, and she has a dreadfully stern and forbidding countenance. The wolf Fenerys gave the gods a great deal of trouble before they succeeded in chaining him. He broke the strongest fetters as if they were made of cobwebs. Finally the gods sent a messenger to the mountain spirits, who made for them the chain called Glefna. It is fashioned of six things, Viz. The noise made by the foot full of a cat, the beards of women, the roots of stones, the breath of fishes, the nerves, the sensibilities of bears, and the spittle of birds. When finished it was as smooth and soft as a silken string. But when the gods asked the wolf to suffer himself to be bound with this apparently slight ribbon, he suspected their design, fearing that it was made by enchantment. He therefore only consented to be bound with upon condition that one of the gods put his hand in his, Fenerys's, mouth, as a pledge that the band was to be removed again. Tia, the god of battles, alone had courage enough to do this. But when the wolf found that he could not break his fetters, and that the gods were not releasing him, he bit off to his hand, and he has ever since remained one-handed. How Thor paid the mountain giant his wages. Once on a time, when the gods were constructing their abodes, and had already finished Midgard and Valhalla, a certain artificer came and offered to build them a residence so well fortified that they should be perfectly safe from the incursions of the frost giants and the giants of the mountains. But he demanded for his reward the goddess Freyja, together with the sun and moon. The gods yielded to his terms, provided he would finish the whole work himself without anyone's assistance, and all within the space of one winter. But if anything remained unfinished on the first day of summer, he should forfeit the recompense agreed on. On being told these terms, the artificer stipulated that he should be allowed the use of his horse, Svaldalfari, and this, by the advice of Loki, was granted to him. He accordingly set to work on the first day of winter, and during the night let his horse draw stone for the building. The enormous size of the stone struck the gods with astonishment, and they saw clearly that the horse did one half more of the toilsome work than his master. Their bargain, however, had been concluded, and confirmed by solemn oaths. For without these precautions a giant would not have thought himself safe among the gods. Especially when Thor should return from an expedition he had then undertaken against the evil demons. As the winter drew to a close, the building was far advanced, and the bulwarks were sufficiently high and massive to render the place impregnable. In short, when it wanted but three days to summer, the only part that remained to be finished was the gateway. Then sat the gods on their seats of justice, and entered into consultation, inquiring of one another who among them could have advised to give Freya away, or to plunge the heavens in darkness by permitting the giant to carry away the sun and the moon. They all agreed that no one but Loki, the author of so many evil deeds, could have given such bad counsel, and that he should be put to a cruel death if he did not contrive some way to prevent the artificer from completing his task and obtaining the stipulated recompense. They proceeded to lay hands on Loki, who in his fright promised upon Oath that, let it cost him what it would, he would so manage matters that the man should lose his reward. That very night, when the man went with Svadil Fari for Building Stone, a mare suddenly ran out of a forest and began to neigh. The horse thereat broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest, which obliged the man also to run after his horse, and thus between one and another the whole night was lost, so that at dawn the work had not made the usual progress. The man, seeing that he must fail of completing his task, resumed his own gigantic structure, and the gods now clearly perceived that it was in reality a mountain giant who would come amongst them. Feeling no longer bound by their oaths, they called on Thor, who immediately ran to their assistance, and lifting up his mallet paid the workman his wages, not with the sun and moon, and not even by sending him back to Jutonhem, for which the first blow he shattered the giant's skull to pieces, and hurled him headlong into Niflhem. The Recovery of the Hammer Once upon a time it happened that Thor's hammer fell into the possession of the giant thyrum, who buried it eight fathons deep under the rocks of Jutonhem. Thor sent Loki to negotiate with thyrum, but he could only prevail so far as to get the giant's promise to restore the weapon if Freyr would consent to be his bride. Loki returned and reported the result of his mission, but the goddess of love was quite horrified at the idea of bestowing a charms on the king of the frost giants. In this emergency Loki persuaded Thor to dress himself in Freyr's clothes, and accompanied him to Jutonhem. Thyrum received his veiled bride with due courtesy, but was greatly surprised at seeing her eat for her supper, eight salmon's, and a full-grown ox, besides other delicacies, washing the whole down with three tons of mead. Loki, however, assured him that she had not tasted anything for eight long nights, so great was her desire to see her lover, the renowned ruler of Jutonhem. Thyrum had, at a length, the curiosity to peep under his bride's veil, but started back in a fright, and demanded why Freyr's eyeballs glistened with fire. Loki repeated the same excuse, and the giant was satisfied. He ordered the hammer to be brought in, and laid on the maiden's lap. Thereupon, Thor threw off his disguise, grasped his redoubted weapon, and slaughtered Thyrum and all his followers. Freyr also possessed a wonderful weapon, a sword, which would of itself spread a field with carnage whenever the owner desired it. Freyr parted with this sword, but was less fortunate than Thor, and never recovered it. It happened in this way. Freyr once mounted Odin's throne, from whence one can see over the whole universe, and looking round saw far off in the giant's kingdom a beautiful maid, at the sight of whom he was struck with sudden sadness, insomuch that from the moment he could neither sleep, nor drink, nor speak. At last Scurnier, his messenger, drew his secret from him, and undertook to get in the maiden for his bride, if he would give him his sword as a reward. Freyr consented, and gave him the sword, and Scurnier set off on his journey, and obtained the maiden's promise, that within nine nights she would come to a certain place, and there would Freyr. Scurnier, having reported the success of his errand, Freyr exclaimed, Long is one night, long are two nights, but how shall I hold out three? Sure to hath seemed a month to me, after none of this longing timed the half. So Freyr obtained Gerda, the most beautiful of all women, for his wife, but he lost his sword. This story, entitled Scurnier IV, and the one immediately preceding it, Fyreham's Quider, will be found poetically told in Longfellow's Poets and Poetry of Europe. Thomas Wells Bullfinch's Mythology, The Age of Fable by Thomas Bullfinch Chapter 39 Thor's Visit to Jotunheim, The Giant's Country One day the god Thor, with his servant Theophie, and accompanied by Loki, set out on a journey to the giant's country. Theophie was of all men the swiftest of foot. He bore Thor's wallet, containing their provisions. When night came and they found themselves in an immense forest and searched on all sides for a place where they might pass the night, and at last came to a very large hall, with an entrance that took the whole breadth of one end of the building. Here they lay down to sleep, but towards midnight were alarmed by an earthquake which shook the whole edifice. Thor, rising up, called on his companions to seek with him a place of safety. On the right they found an adjoining chamber, into which the others entered. But Thor remained at the doorway with his mallet in his hand, prepared to defend himself, whatever might happen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night, and at dawn of day Thor went out and found lying nearer him a huge giant, who slept and snored in the way that had alarmed them so. It said that for once Thor was afraid to use his mallet, and as the giant soon waked up, Thor contended himself with simply asking his name. My name is Skiramir, said the giant. But I need not ask thy name, for I know that thou art the God Thor. But what has become of my glove? Thor then perceived that what they had taken overnight for a haul was the giant's glove, and the chamber where his two companions had sought refuge was the thumb. Skiramir then proposed that they should travel in company, and Thor consenting they sat down to eat their breakfast. And when they had done, Skiramir packed all the provisions into one wallet, threw it over his shoulder, and strode on before them, taking such tremendous strides that they were hard to put it to keep up with him. So they traveled the whole day, and at dusk Skiramir chose a place for them to pass the night in under a large oak tree. Skiramir then told them he would lie down to sleep. But take ye the wallet, he added, and prepare your supper. Skiramir soon fell asleep and began to snore strongly, but when Thor tried to open the wallet, he found the giant had tied it up so tight he could not untie a single knot. At last Thor became wroth, and grasping his mallet with both hands, he struck a furious blow on the giant's head. Skiramir, awakening, merely asked whether a leaf had fallen on this head, and whether they had supped and were ready to go to sleep. Thor answered that they were just going to sleep, and so saying went and laid himself down under another tree. But sleep came not that night to Thor, and when Skiramir snored again so loud that the forest re-echoed with the noise, he arose, and grasping his mallet launched it with such force that the giant's skull that it made a deep dent in it. Skiramir, awakening, cried out, What's the matter? Are there any birds perched on this tree? I felt some moss from the branches fall on my head. How fair is it with thee, Thor? But Thor went away hastily, saying that he had just then woke, and that as it was only midnight there was still time for sleep. He, however, resolved that if he had an opportunity of striking a third blow, it should settle all matters between them. A little before daybreak he perceived that Skiramir was again fast asleep, and a grin grasping his mallet, he dashed it with such violence that it forced his way into the giant's skull, up to the handle. But Skiramir sat up and, stroking his cheek, said, An acorn fell on my head. What, art thou awake, Thor? Me thinks it is time for us to get up and dress ourselves, but you have not now a long way before you to the city called Utgard. I have heard you whispering to one another that I am not a man of small dimensions, but if you come to Utgard, you will see there many men much taller than I. Wherefore, I advise you, when you come there, not to make too much of yourselves, for the followers of Utgard, Loki will not brook the boasting of such little fellows as you are. You must take the road that leads eastward, mine lies northward, so we must part here. Hereupon he threw his wallet over his shoulders and turned away from them into the forest, and Thor had no wish to stop him or to ask for any more of his company. Thor and his companions proceeded on their way, and towards noon described a city standing in the middle of a plain. It was so lofty that they were obliged to bend their necks quite back on their shoulders in order to see the top of it. On arriving they entered the city, and seeing a large place before them with the door wide open, they went in and found a number of men of prodigious stature sitting on benches in the hall. Going further, they came before the king, Utgard Loki, whom they saluted with great respect. The king, regarding them with a scornful smile, said, If I do not mistake me, that stripling yonder must be the god Thor. Then addressing himself to Thor, he said, Perhaps thou mayst be more than thou appearst to be. What are the feats that thou and my fellows deem yourselves skilled in, for no one is permitted to remain here who does not, in some feet or another, excel all other men? The feat that I know, said Loki, is to eat quicker than anyone else, and in this I am ready to give a proof against anyone here who may choose to compete with me. That will indeed be a feat, said Utgard Loki. If thou performest, what thou promised, it shall be tried forthwith. He then ordered one of his men who was sitting at the furthest end of the bench, and whose name was Loki, to come forward and try his skill with Loki. A trowel filled with meat having been set on the hall floor, Loki placed himself at one end, and Loki at the other, and each of them began to eat as fast as he could until they met in the middle of the trowel. But it was found that Loki had only eaten the flesh, while his adversary had devoured both flesh and bone, and threw to the boot. All the company, therefore, had judged that Loki was vanquished. Utgard Loki then asked what feat the young man who accompanied Thor could perform. The Alfie answered that he would run a race with anyone who might be matched against him. The King observed that skill in running was something to boast of, but if the youth would win the match he must display great agility. He then arose and went with all who were present to a plane where there was a good ground for running on, and calling a young man named Hugi, bade him to run a match with the Alfie. In the first course, Hugi so much outstripped his competitor that he turned back and met him not far from the starting place. Then they ran a second and third time, but the Alfie met with no better success. Utgard Loki then asked Thor in what feats he would choose to give proofs of that prowess for which he was so famous. Thor answered that he would try a drinking match with anyone. Utgard Loki bade his cup-bearer to bring the large horn which his followers were obliged to empty when they had trespassed in any way against the law of the feast. The cup-bearer having presented it to Thor, Utgard Loki said, whoever is a good drinker will empty that horn at a single drop, though most men make two of it, but the most puny drinker can do it in three. Thor looked at the horn, which seemed to no extraordinary size, though somewhat long. However, as he was very thirsty, he set it to his lips and without drawing breath pulled as long as deeply as he could that he might not be obliged to make a second drop of it. But when he set the horn down and looked in, he could scarcely perceive that the liquor was diminished. After taking breath, Thor went to it again with all his might, but when he took the horn from his mouth, it seemed to him that he had drunk rather less than before, although the horn could now be carried without spilling. How now, Thor, said Utgard Loki, thou must not spare thyself. If thou means to drain the horn at the third drought, thou must pull deeply, and I must need say that thou will not be called so mighty a man here as thou art at home if thou showest no greater prowess in other feats than me thinks will be shown in this. Thor, full of wrath, again set the horn to his lips, and it is best to empty it, but on looking he found the liquor was only a little lower, and so he resolved to make no further attempt, but gave back the horn to the cup-bearer. I now see plainly, said Utgard Loki, that thou art not quite so stout as we thought thee, but wilt thou try any other feat, though me thinks thou art not likely to bear any prize away with thee hints. What new trial hast thou to propose, said Thor? We have a very trifling game here, answered Utgard Loki, in which we exercise none but children. It consists in merely lifting my cat from the ground, nor should I have dared to mention such a feat to the great Thor if I had not already observed that thou art by no means what we took thee for. As he finished speaking, a large gray cat sprang on the hall floor. Thor put his hand under the cat's belly, and did his utmost to raise him from the floor. But the cat, bending his back, had not withstanding all Thor's efforts, only one of his feet lifted up, seeing which Thor made no further attempt. This trial has turned out, said Utgard Loki, just as I imagined it would. The cat is large, but Thor is little in comparison to our men. Little as ye call me, answered Thor, let me see who among you will come hither, now I am in wrath, and wrestle with me. I see no one here, said Utgard Loki, looking at the men sitting on the benches, who would not think it beneath him to wrestle with thee. Let somebody, however, call hither that old crone, my nurse Elie, and let Thor wrestle with her, if he will. She has thrown to the ground many a man, not less strong than this Thor is. A toothless old woman then entered the hall, and was told by Utgard Loki to take hold of Thor. The tale is shortly told. The more Thor tightened his hold on the crone, the firmer she stood. At length after a very violent struggle, Thor began to lose his footing, and was finally brought down upon one knee. Utgard Loki then told them to desist, adding that Thor had now no occasion to ask anyone else in the hall to wrestle with him, and it was also getting late, so he showed Thor and his companions to their seats, and they passed the night there in good cheer. The next morning, at the break of day, Thor and his companions dressed themselves and prepared for their departure. Utgard Loki ordered a table to be set for them, on which there was no lack of victuals or drink. After the repast, Utgard Loki led them to the gate of the city, and on parting asked Thor how he thought his journey had turned out, and whether he had met with any men stronger than himself. Thor told him that he could not deny, but that he had brought great shame on himself. And what grieves me most, he added, is that you will call me person of little worth. Nay, said Utgard Loki, it behooves me to tell thee the truth. Now thou art out of the city, which so long as I live, and have my way, thou shalt never enter again. And by my troth had I known beforehand that thou had so much strength in thee, and thou would have brought me so near to a great mishap, I would have not have suffered thee to enter this time. Know then that I could have all along deceived thee by my illusions. First in the forest, where I tied up the wallet with great iron wire, so that thou could not untie it. After this thou gaveest me three blows with thy mallet. The first, though the least, would have ended my days had it fallen on me, but I slipped aside and thy bows fell on the mountain, where thou will find three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the dents made by the mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in the contests you have had with my followers. In the first, Loki, like hunger itself, devoured all that was set before him, but Loki was in reality nothing else than fire, and therefore consumed not only the meat, but the trow that held it. Hugie, with whom the alfie contended in running, was thought, and it is impossible for a the alfie to keep pace with that. When thou that in thy turn didst attempt to empty the horn, thou didst perform by my troth a deed so marvellous that I had not seen it myself, I should have never believed it. For one under the horn reached the sea, which thou was not aware of. But when thou comest to the shore, thou will perceive how much the sea has sunk by thy draughts. Thou didst perform a feat no less wonderful by lifting up the cat, and to tell thee the truth, when we saw that one of his paws was off the floor, were all of us terror-stricken. For what thou took us for a cat was in reality the midgard's surface that encompassed the earth. And he was so stretched by thee, he was barely long enough to enclose it between his head and tail. Thy wrestling with Elie was most astonishing feat, for there was never yet a man, nor will ever be, whom the old age, for such in fact was Elie. Will not sooner or later lay low. But now, as we are going to part, let me tell thee that it would be better for both of us, as thou never come near me again. For shouldest thou do so, I shall again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou will only lose thy labour, and get no fame from the contest with me. On hearing these words, Thor in a rage laid hold of his mallet, and would have launched it at him, but Uthgard Loki has disappeared. And when Thor would have returned to the city to destroy it, he found nothing around him but a verdant plain. The Elves Runic Letters Iceland Teutonic Mythology Nibolungin Lit The Death of Baldor Baldor, the good, having been tormented with terrible dreams, indicating that his life was in peril, told them to the assembled gods, who resolved to conjure all things to avert from him the threatened danger. Then Frigga, the wife of Odin, exacted an oath from fire and water, from iron and all other metals, from stones, trees, diseases, beasts, birds, poisons, and creeping things, that none of them would do any harm to Baldor. Odin, not satisfied with all this, and feeling alarmed for the fate of his son, determined to consult the prophetess Angerboda, a giantist, mother of Fenris, Hela, and the midgard serpent. She was dead, and Odin was forced to seek her in Hela's dominions. This descent of Odin forms the subject of Grey's fine ode beginning, uproads the king of men with speed, and saddles straight his coal-black steed, but the other gods, feeling that what Frigga had done was quite sufficient, amused themselves with using Baldor as a mark. Some hurling darts at him, some stones, while others hewed at him with their swords and battle axes, for do what they would, none of them could harm him. And this became a favorite pastime with them, and was regarded as an honor shown to Baldor. But when Loki beheld the scene, he was sorely vexed that Baldor was not hurt. Assuming, therefore, the shape of a woman, he went to Fencilir, the mansion of Frigga. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she knew what the gods were doing at their meetings. She replied that they were throwing darts and stones at Baldor, without being able to hurt him. I, said Frigga, neither stones nor sticks nor anything else can hurt Baldor. For I have exacted an oath from all of them. What, exclaimed the woman, have all things sworn to spare Baldor? All things, replied Frigga, except one little shrub that grows on the eastern side of Valhalla and is called Missaltoe, in which I thought too young and feeble to crave an oath from. As soon as Loki heard this, he went away, and resuming his natural shape cut off the Missaltoe, and repaired to the place where the gods were assembled. There he found Hodor standing apart, without partaking of the sports on account of his blindness, and going up to him said, Why dost thou not also throw something at Baldor? Because I am blind, answered Hodor, and see not where Baldor is, and have moreover nothing to throw. Come then, said Loki, do like the rest, and show honor to Baldor by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm towards the place where he stands. Hodor then took the Missaltoe, and under the guidance of Loki, darted it at Baldor, who, pierced through and through, fell down lifeless. Surely never was there witness, either among gods or men, a more atrocious deed than this. When Baldor fell, the gods were struck speechless with horror, and then they looked at each other, and all were of one mind to lay hands on him who had done the deed, but they were obliged to delay their vengeance out of respect for the sacred place where they were assembled. They gave vent to their grief by loud lamentations. When the gods came to themselves, Frigga asked who among them wished to gain all her love and goodwill. For this, said she, shall he have who will ride to hell and offer Hella a ransom if she will let Baldor return to Asgard. Whereupon Hermod, surnamed the Nimble, the son of Odin, offered to undertake the journey. Odin's horse, Slapnir, which has eight legs and can outrun the wind, was then led forth on which Hermod mounted and galloped away on his mission. For the space of nine days and as many nights, he rode through deep glens so dark that he could not discern anything, until he arrived at the river Gyol, which he passed over on a bridge covered with glittering gold. The maiden who kept the bridge asked him his name in lineage, telling him that the day before five bands of dead persons had ridden over the bridge and did not shake it as much as he alone. But, she added, thou hast not this hue on thee, why then ridest thou here on the way to hell? I ride to hell, answered Hermod, to seek Baldor, hast thou perchance seen him pass this way? She replied, Baldor hath ridden over Gyol's bridge and yonder lyeth the way he took to the abodes of death. Hermod pursued his journey until he came to the barred gates of hell. Here he elighted, girth'd his saddle tighter, and remounting clapped both spurs to his horse, who cleared the gate by a tremendous leap without touching it. Hermod then rode on to the palace, where he found his brother Baldor occupying the most distinguished seat in the hall, and passed the night in his company. The next morning he besought Hella to let Baldor ride home with him, assuring her that nothing but lamentations were to be heard among the gods. Hella answered that it should now be tried whether Baldor was so beloved as he was said to be. If, therefore, she added all things in the world, both living and lifeless, weep for him, then shall he return to life, but if any one thing speak against him or refuse to weep, he shall be kept in hell. Hermod wrote back to Asgard and gave an account of all he had heard and witnessed. The gods upon this dispatched messengers throughout the world to beg everything to weep in order that Baldor might be delivered from hell. All things very willingly complied with this request, both men and every other living being, as well as earths and stones and trees and metals, just as we have all seen these things weep when they were brought from a cold place into a hot one. As the messengers were returning they found an old hag named Thacht, sitting in a cavern, and begged her to weep Baldor out of hell. But she answered, Thacht will wail with dry tears Baldor's bale fire, let Hella keep her own. It was strongly suspected that this hag was no other than Loki himself, who never ceased to work evil among gods and men, so Baldor was prevented from coming back to Asgard. The gods took up the dead body and bore it to the seashore where stood Baldor's ship, Ringham, which passed for the largest in the world. Baldor's dead body was put on the funeral pile, on board the ship, and his wife, Nana, was so struck with grief at the sight that she broke her heart and her body was burned on the same pile as her husband's. There was a vast concourse of various kinds of people at Baldor's obsequies. First came Odin, accompanied by Friga, the Valkyrie, and his ravens. Then Frey in his car drawn by Gulen Bursty, the boar, Heimdall wrote his horse Gultop, and Freya drove in her chariot drawn by cats. There were also a great many frost giants and giants of the mountain present. Baldor's horse was led to the pile, fully comparisonned, and consumed in the same flames with his master. But Loki did not escape his deserved punishment. When he saw how angry the gods were, he fled to the mountain, and there built himself a hut with four doors so that he could see every approaching danger. He invented a net to catch the fishes, such as fishermen have used since his time. But Odin found out his hiding place and the gods assembled to take him. He, seeing this, changed himself into a salmon and lay hid among the stones of the brook. But the gods took his neck and dragged the brook, and Loki, finding he must be caught, tried to leap over the net. But Thor caught him by the tail and compressed it so that salmon's ever since have had that part remarkably fine and thin. They bound him with chains and suspended a serpent over his head, whose venom falls upon his face drop by drop. His wife, Saguna, sits by his side and catches the drops as they fall in a cup. But when she carries it away to empty it, the venom falls upon Loki, which makes him howl with horror and twist his body about so violently that the whole earth shakes, and this produces what men call earthquakes. The Elves The Eda mentions another class of beings, inferior to the gods, but still possessed of great power. These were called elves. The white spirits or elves of light were exceedingly fair, more brilliant than the sun, and clad in garments of a delicate and transparent texture. They loved the light, were kindly disposed to mankind, and generally appeared as fair and lovely children. Their country was called Alfheim, and was the domain of Freyr, the god of the sun, in whose light they were always sporting. The black or night elves were a different kind of creatures. Ugly, long-nosed dwarfs of a dirty brown color, they appeared only at night, where they avoided the sun as their most deadly enemy, because whenever his beams fell upon any of them, they changed them immediately into stones. Their language was the echo of solitudes, and their dwelling places subterranean caves and clefs. They were supposed to have come into existence as maggots produced by the decaying flesh of Ymir's body, and were afterwards endowed by the gods with a human form and a great understanding. They were particularly distinguished for a knowledge of the mysterious powers of nature, and for the ruins which they carved and explained. They were the most skillful artificers of all created beings, and worked in metals and in wood. Among their most noted works were Thor's hammer and the ship Skedladnir, which they gave to Freyr, and which was so large that it could contain all the deities with their war and household implements. But so skillfully was it wrought that when folded together it could be put into a side pocket. Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods. It was a firm belief of the northern nations that a time would come when all the visible creation, the gods of Valhalla and Niflheim, the inhabitants of Jotunheim, Alfheim, and Midgard, together with their habitations would be destroyed. The fearful day of destruction will not, however, be without its forerunners. First will come a triple winter, during which snow will fall from the four corners of the heavens. The frost will be very severe, the wind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no gladness. Three such winters will pass away without being tempered by a single summer. Three other similar winters will then follow, during which war and discord will spread over the universe. The earth itself will be frightened and begin to tremble. The sea leave its basin, the heavens tear asunder, and men perish in great numbers, and the eagles of the air feast upon their still-quivering bodies. The wolf Fenris will now break his bands, the Midgard serpent rise out of her bed in the sea, and Loki, released from his bonds, will join the enemies of the gods. Amidst the general devastation, the sons of Muspelheim will rush forth under their leader Surtur, before and behind whom are flames and burning fire. Onward they ride over Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, which breaks under the horse's hooves, but they, disregarding its fall, direct their course to the battlefield called Vigrid. Thither also repair the wolf Fenris, the Midgard serpent, Loki with all the followers of Hela and the Frost Giants. Heimdall now stands up and sounds the galler horn to assemble the gods and heroes for the contest. The gods advance, led on by Odin, who engages the wolf Fenris, but falls a victim to the monster, who is, however, slain by Vidar, Odin's son. Thore gains great renown by killing the Midgard serpent, but recoils and falls dead, suffocated with the Venom, which the dying monster vomits over him. Loki and Heimdall meet and fight till they are both slain. The gods and their enemies, having fallen in battle, Surtur, who has killed Freyr, darts fire and flames over the world, and the whole universe is burned up. The sun becomes dim, the earth sinks into the ocean, the stars fall from heaven, and time is no more. After this, Alphadur, the Almighty, will cause a new heaven and a new earth to arise out of the sea. The new earth, filled with abundant supplies, will spontaneously produce its fruits without labor or care. Wickedness and misery will no more be known, but the gods and men will live happily together. Runic Letters One cannot travel far in Denmark, Norway, or Sweden without meeting with great stones of different forms, engraving with characters called Runic, which appear at first sight very different from all we know. The letters consist almost invariably of straight lines, in the shape of little sticks either singly or put together. Such sticks were in early times used by the northern nations for the purpose of ascertaining future events. The sticks were shaken up, and from the figures that they formed a kind of divination was derived. The Runic characters were of various kinds. They were chiefly used for magical purposes. The Noxious, or as they call them, the Bitter Runes, were employed to bring various evils on their enemies. The favorable averted misfortune. Some were medicinal, others employed to win love, etc. In later times they were frequently used for inscriptions, of which more than a thousand have been found. The language is a dialect of the Gothic, called Norse, still in use in Iceland. The inscriptions may therefore be read with certainty, but hitherto very few have been found which throw the least light on history. They are mostly epitaphs on tombstones. Grey's Ode on the Descent of Odin contains an allusion to the use of runic letters for incantation. Facing to the northern climb, Thrice he traced the runic rhyme. Thrice pronounced an accent shred, the thrilling verse that wakes the dead, till from out the hollow ground slowly breathed a sullen sound. The Scalds. The Scalds were the bards and poets of the nation, a very important class of men in all communities in an early stage of civilization. They are the depositaries of whatever historic lore there is, and it is their office to mingle something of intellectual gratification with the rude feasts of the warriors, by rehearsing, with such accompaniments of poetry and music as their skill can afford, the exploits of their heroes living or dead. The compositions of the Scalds were called sagas, many of which have come down to us, and contain valuable materials of history, and a faithful picture of the state of society at the time to which they relate. Iceland. The Eddas and sagas have come to us from Iceland. The following extract from Carlisle's lectures on Heroes and Hero Worship gives an animated account of the region where the strange stories we have been reading had their origin. Let the reader contrast it for a moment with Greece, the parent of classical mythology. In that strange island, Iceland, burst up, the geologists say, by fire from the bottom of the sea, a wild land of barreness and lava swallowed many months of every year in Black Tempest, yet with a wild gleaming beauty in summertime, towering up their stern and grim in the north ocean, with its snow yuckels, mountains, roaring geysers, boiling springs, sulfur pools, and horrid volcanic chasms, like the waste chaotic battlefield of frost and fire, where, of all places, we least looked for literature or written memorials. The record of these things was written down. On the seabird of this wild land is a rim of grassy country where cattle can subsist and men, by means of them, and of what the sea yields, and it seems they were poetic man, these, men who had deep thoughts in them and uttered musically their thoughts. Much would be lost had Iceland not been burst up from the sea, not been discovered by the Northmen. 2. Tonic Mythology In the mythology of Germany proper, the name of Odin appears as Votan. Freya and Frege are regarded as one in the same divinity, and the gods are in general represented as less war-like in character than those in the Scandinavian myths. As a whole, however, Tonic mythology runs along almost identical lines with that of the northern nations. The most notable divergence is due to modifications of the legends by reason of the difference in climatic conditions. The more advanced social condition of the Germans is also apparent in their mythology. 3. The Nibelungen Lied One of the oldest myths of the Tonic race is found in the great national epic of the Nibelungen Lied, which dates back to the prehistoric era when Votan, Frege, Thor, Loki, and the other gods and goddesses were worshipped in the German forests. The epic is divided into two parts, the first of which tells how Sigfried, the youngest of the kings of the Netherlands, went to Worms to ask in marriage the hand of Creamhild, sister of Gunther, king of Burgundy. While he was staying with Gunther, Sigfried helped the Burgundian king to secure as his wife, Brunhild, queen of Iceland. The latter had announced publicly that he only should be her husband, who could beat her in hurling a spear, throwing a huge stone and in leaping. Sigfried, who possessed a cloak of invisibility, aided Gunther in these three contests, and Brunhild became his wife. In return for these services, Gunther gave Sigfried his sister, Creamhild, in marriage. After some time had elapsed, Sigfried and Creamhild went to visit Gunther, when the two women fell into a dispute about the relative merits of their husbands. Creamhild, to exalt Sigfried, boasted that it was to the latter that Gunther owed his victories and his wife. Brunhild, in great anger, employed Hagen, leechman of Gunther, to murder Sigfried. In the epic, Hagen is described as follows. Well grown and well compacted was that redoubted guest. Long were his legs and sinewy, and deep and broad his chest. His hair, that once was sable, with gray was dashed of late. Most terrible his visage, and lordly was his gait. Nibelungen Liet, stanza 1789. This achilles of German romance stabs Sigfried between the shoulders, as the unfortunate king of the Netherlands was stooping to drink from a brook during a hunting expedition. The second part of the epic relates how, 13 years later, Creamhild married Etzel, king of the Huns. After a time she invited the king of Burgundy, with Hagen and many others, to the court of her husband. A fearful quarrel was stirred up in the banquet hall, which ended in the slaughter of all of the Burgundians but Gunther and Hagen. These two were taken prisoners and given to Creamhild, who with her own hand cut off the heads of both. For this bloody act of vengeance, Creamhild was herself slain by Hildebrand, a magician and champion, who in German mythology holds a place to an extent corresponding to that of Nestor in the Greek mythology. The Nibelungen Horde. This was a mythical mass of gold and precious stones which Sigfried obtained from the Nibelungs, the people of the north whom he had conquered and whose country he had made tributary to his own kingdom of the Netherlands. Upon his marriage Sigfried gave the treasure to Creamhild as her wedding portion. After the murder of Sigfried, Hagen seized it and buried it secretly beneath the Rhine at Lachem, intending to recover it at a future period. The Horde was lost forever when Hagen was killed by Creamhild. Its wonders are thus set forth in the poem. Twice as much as twelve huge wagons in four whole nights and days could carry from the mountain down to the Salt Sea Bay, though to and fro each wagon thrice journeyed every day. It was made above nothing but precious stones and gold, where all the world bought from it and down the value told, not a mark the less would there be left than erst there was, I ween. Nibelungen Liet. Nineteen. Whoever possessed the Nibelungen Horde were termed Nibelungers. Thus at one time certain people of Norway were so called. When Sigfried held the treasure he received the title King of the Nibelungers. Wagner's Nibelungen Ring. Though Richard Wagner's music drama of the Nibelungen Ring bears some resemblance to the ancient German epic, it is a wholly independent composition and was derived from various old songs and sagas, which the dramatists swerve into one great harmonious story. The principal source was the Volsunga Saga, while lesser parts were taken from the Elder Edda and the Younger Edda, and others from the Nibelungen Liet, the Eklen Liet, and other Teutonic folklore. In the drama there are at first only four distinct races, the gods, the giants, the dwarfs, and the nymphs. Later, by a special creation, there come the Valkyrie and the heroes. The gods are the noblest and highest race, and dwell first in the mountain meadows, later in the palace of Valhalla on the heights. The giants are a great and strong race, but lack wisdom. They hate what is noble and are enemies of the gods. They dwell in caves near the earth's surface. The dwarfs, or Nibelungs, are black uncouth pygmies, hating the good, hating the gods. They are crafty and cunning, and dwell in the bowels of the earth. The nymphs are pure, innocent creatures of the water. The Valkyrie are daughters of the gods, but mingled with a mortal strain. They gather dead heroes from the battlefields and carry them to Valhalla. The heroes are children of the gods, but also mingled with a mortal strain. They are destined to become at last the highest race of all, and to succeed the gods in the government of the world. The principal gods are Votan, Loki, Donner, and Froh. The chief giants are Fafnir and Fassolt, brothers. The chief dwarfs are Albaric and Mime, brothers, and later Hagen, son of Albaric. The chief nymphs are the Rhine daughters, Flushilda, Woglinda, and Walgunda. There are nine Valkyrie, of whom Brunhild is the leading one. Vlogner's story of the Ring may be summarized as follows. A horde of gold exists in the depths of the Rhine, guarded by the innocent Rhine maidens. Albaric, the dwarf, foreswares love to gain this gold. He makes it into a magic ring. It gives him all power, and he gathers by it a vast amount of treasures. Meanwhile, Votan, chief of the gods, has engaged the giants to build for him a noble castle, Valhalla, from whence to rule the world, promising in payment Freya, goddess of youth and love. But the gods find they cannot spare Freya, as they are dependent on her for their immortal youth. Loki, called upon to provide a substitute, tells of Albaric's magic ring and other treasure. Votan goes with Loki, and they steal the ring and the golden horde from Albaric, who curses the ring and lays the curse on all who shall henceforth possess it. The gods give the ring and the treasure to the giants as a substitute for Freya. The curse at once begins. One giant, Fafner, kills his brother to get all, and transforms himself into a dragon to guard his wealth. The gods enter Valhalla over the rainbow bridge. This ends the first part of the drama, called the Rhine gold. The second part, the Valkyrie, relates how Votan still covets the ring. He cannot take it himself, for he has given his word to the giants. He stands or falls by his word. So he devises an Artifice to get the ring. He will get a hero race to work for him and recover the ring and the treasures. Sigmund and Siglinda are twin children of this new race. Siglinda is carried off as a child, and is forced into marriage with Hunding. Sigmund comes and unknowingly breaks the law of marriage, but wins no thong, the great sword, and a bride. Brunhild, chief of the Valkyrie, is commissioned by Votan at the instance of Fricka, goddess of marriage, to slay him for his sin. She disobeys and tries to save him, but Hunding, helped by Votan, slays him. Siglinda, however, about to bear the free hero, to be called Sigfried, is saved by Brunhild and hidden in the forest. Brunhild herself is punished by being made a mortal woman. She is left sleeping on the mountains with a wall of fire around her, which only a hero can penetrate. The drama continues with the story of Sigfried, which opens with the scene in the smithy between Mime the Dwarf and Sigfried. Mime is welding a sword, and Sigfried scorns him. Mime tells him something of his mother, Siglinda, and shows him the broken pieces of his father's sword. Votan comes and tells Mime that only one who has no fear can remake the sword. Now Sigfried knows no fear, and soon remakes the sword Nothung. Votan and Albaric come to where the dragon Fafnir is guarding the ring. They both long for it, but neither can take it. Soon Mime comes, bringing Sigfried with the mighty sword. Fafnir comes out, but Sigfried slays him. Happening to touch his lips with the dragon's blood, he understands the language of the birds. They tell him of the ring. He goes and gets it. Sigfried now has possession of the ring, but it is to bring him nothing of happiness, only evil. It is to curse love and finally bring death. The birds also tell him of Mime's treachery. He slays Mime. He longs for someone to love. The birds tell him of the slumbering Brunhilde, whom he finds and marries. The dusk of the gods portrays at the opening the three norns or fates weaving and measuring the thread of destiny. It is the beginning of the end. The perfect pair, Sigfried and Brunhilde, appear in all the glory of their life, splendid ideals of manhood and womanhood. But Sigfried goes out into the world to achieve deeds of prowess. He gives her the Nibelungen ring to keep as a pledge of his love till his return. Meanwhile, Albaric also has begotten a son, Egan, to achieve for him the possession of the ring. He is partly of the Gibba-Chung race and works through Gunther and Gatrune, half-brother and half-sister to him. They begile Sigfried to them. Give him a magic draft which makes him forget Brunhilde and fall in love with Gatrune. Under this same spell he offers to bring Brunhilde for wife to Gunther. Now is Valhalla full of sorrow and despair. The gods fear the end. Bataan murmurs, oh, that she would give back the ring to the Rhine. But Brunhilde will not give it up. It is now her pledge of love. Sigfried comes, takes the ring, and Brunhilde is now brought to the Rhine castle of the Gibba-Chungs. But Sigfried, under the spell, does not love her. She is to be wedded to Gunther. She rises in wrath and announces Sigfried. But at a hunting banquet, Sigfried is given another magic draft. Remembers all and is slain by Hagen by a blow in the back as he calls on Brunhilde's name in love. Then comes the end. The body of Sigfried is burned on a funeral pyre, a grand funeral marches heard, and Brunhilde rides into the flames and sacrifices herself for love's sake. The ring goes back to the Rhine daughters, and the old world of the gods of Valhalla, of passion and sin, is burnt up with flames, for the gods have broken moral law and coveted power rather than love, gold rather than truth, and therefore must perish. They pass, and a new error, the reign of love and truth, has begun. Those who wish to study the differences in the legends of the Nibelungen Leet and the Nibelungen Ring, and the way in which Wagner used his ancient material are referred to Professor W. C. Sawyer's book on Teutonic Legends in the Nibelungen Leet and the Nibelungen Ring, where the matter is treated in full detail. For a very thorough and clear analysis of the ring as Wagner gives it, with a study of the musical motifs, probably nothing is better for general readers than the volume The Epic of Sounds by Frida Winworth. The more scholarly work of Professor Lavinak is indispensable for the student of Wagner's dramas. There is much illuminating comment on the sources and materials in Legends of the Wagner Drama by J. L. Weston. End of Chapter 40