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217

IV. PART IV

ω παι, τελος μεν Ζευς εχει βαρυκτυπος
παντων οσ' εστι.
Σιμωνιδης.


218

ANALYSIS OF THE FOURTH PART

The beneficial effects, resulting from the perpetual mutability of things to moral and physical nature, demonstrate the wisdom and the necessity of its existence. The Sybarite and the mountaineer contrasted. Virtue, genius, and courage, shine with additional splendor through darkness and adversity. Virtue: exemplified in Thrasea: Genius: in Orpheus, Dante, and Ariosto: Courage: in Scipio and Odin. The energy and sublimity of character, which distinguished the latter, and the votaries of his wild mythology, ought still more to distinguish those, who have truth and science for their guides. Conclusion.


219

When the brief joys fallacious fortune gave
Have passed, like foam from ocean's crested wave;
When friends are false, and love's pale lips repose
In the last home the earthly wanderer knows;
The vernal sunshine, and the opening flower,
Diffuse no smile around the mourner's bower.

See the man, who is informed of some severe and unexpected misfortune, who is deprived of a wife whom he loves, or of a child whom paternal affection had made the object of the fondest wishes. In an instant, his ideas take a new course. The world around him is overspread with gloom. Every thing lends itself to his grief. The cheerful sunshine, which soon may pass away, brings a mournful recollection to his soul; and he sighs, in contemplating the bloom of youth, which has lately flourished, and which must shortly fade. For him there is no joy in scenes of festivity and mirth; no allurement in the attractions of society; and no interest in the pursuits of ambition. He hears not the voice of consolation: he indulges and encourages his sorrow. It is not, until some sentiment, secretly approved, has whispered to him, that he may yet find solace in the pleasures of the world, that he discovers grief to be unavailing, and solitude to be irksome: he yields to the impulse of sentiment, and vaunts the exercise of reason. Drummond's Academical Questions.


Cheerless to him the flower that blooms to fade,
And sad the radiance clouds so soon must shade.
Yet shall the hand of time assuage his pain,
And changeful nature charm his soul again.
Divine the law, that gives our earthly state
Its shifting seasons, and its varying fate.
Spring, never broken by the storm's control,
Had thrown Lethean torpor on the soul.
See the soft youth, in pleasure's bower reclined,
Shrink from the breath of autumn's evening wind:
Mark, where yon rocks the tempest dimly shrouds,
The mountain-hunter bounding through the clouds.
The enlightened breast, with native virtue warm,
Glows in the toil of fortune's wildest storm.
The eye, that views, in wisdom's guiding light,
The feeble tenure of terrestrial might,

220

Learns, undismayed, the tyrant's brow to scan,
And rise victorious o'er the power of man;
As Thrasea smiled, expiring in his grove,
And poured libations to delivering Jove.

Thrasea was a stoic philosopher, condemned by Nero for his inflexible virtue. When his veins were opened, he sprinkled the blood on the ground, as a libation to Liberating Jupiter. Libemus, inquit, Jovi Liberatori.


From deepest night creative genius brings
The brightest flow of her exhaustless springs.
So Orpheus rose, with heaven-illumined mind,
To teach the arts of life, and form mankind.
Silvestres homines sacer interpresque deorum
Cædibus et victu fœdo deterruit Orpheus.

Horatius.


When Europe sunk in barbarous darkness lay;
When outraged science streamed no genial ray;
While murder fired her sacrilegious pile,
And phrensy brooded in the cloistered aisle;
Like light from chaos Alighieri sprung:
And Leo lived, and Ariosto sung.
More firm in danger, courage stands unfurled,
A beacon-tower, to guide and awe the world.
Thus youthful Scipio raised his patriot shield,
When Rome's pale genius wept on Cannæ's field,

After the fatal battle of Cannæ, when the noblest of the Romans meditated to forsake their country, and offer their services to some foreign king, Scipio rushed, with a few followers, into the council, which was held with this design; and drawing his sword in the assembly, declared, that he would neither desert the republic, nor suffer any other citizen to desert it; and that whosoever should refuse to swear implicit conformity to this patriotic resolution, might know that against him that sword was drawn. Ex mei animi sententia, inquit, ut ego rempublicam populi Romani non deseram, neque alium civem Romanum deserere patiar. Si sciens fallo, tum me, Jupiter optime maxime, domum, familiam, remque meam, pessimo leto adficias. In hœc verba, L. Cœcili, jures postulo, ceterique, qui adestis: qui non juraverit, in se hunc gladium strictum esse sciat. The oath was unanimously taken, and the republic was preserved by Scipio in its most dreadful extremity.


Stood like a rock, his native walls to save,
And rolled away the madly-threatening wave.
When Pompey's arms, on Asia's vanquished strand,
Forced many a prince to yield his parent land,
Dark Odin drew his chosen warriors forth,

Till the end of the eleventh century, a celebrated temple subsisted at Upsal, the most considerable town of the Swedes and Goths. It was enriched with the gold which the Scandinavians had acquired in their piratical adventures, and sanctified by the uncouth representations of the three principal deities, the god of war, the goddess of generation, and the god of thunder. In the general festival, that was solemnized every ninth year, nine animals of every species (without excepting the human) were sacrificed, and their bleeding bodies suspended in the sacred grove, adjacent to the temple. The only traces that now subsist of this barbaric superstition are contained in the Edda, a system of mythology, compiled in Iceland about the thirteenth century, and studied by the learned of Denmark and Sweden, as the most valuable remains of their ancient traditions.

Notwithstanding the mysterious obscurity of the Edda, we can easily distinguish two persons confounded under the name of Odin, the god of war, and the great legislator of Scandinavia. The latter, the Mahomet of the north, instituted a religion adapted to the climate, and to the people. Numerous tribes on either side of the Baltic were subdued by the invincible valor of Odin, by his persuasive eloquence, and by the fame, which he acquired, of a most skilful magician. The faith that he had propagated, during a long and prosperous life, he confirmed by a voluntary death. Apprehensive of the ignominious approach of disease and infirmity, he resolved to expire as became a warrior. In a solemn assembly of the Swedes and Goths, he wounded himself in nine mortal places, hastening away (as he asserted with his dying voice) to prepare the feast of heroes in the palace of the god of war. The native and proper habitation of Odin is distinguished by the appellation of Asgard. The happy resemblance of that name with As-burg, or As-of, words of a similar signification, has given rise to an historical system of so pleasing a contexture, that we could almost wish to persuade ourselves of its truth. It is supposed that Odin was the chief of a tribe of barbarians, which dwelt on the banks of the lake Mæotis, till the fall of Mithridates and the arms of Pompey menaced the north with servitude. That Odin, yielding with indignant fury to a power which he was unable to resist, conducted his tribe from the frontiers of the Asiatic Sarmatia into Sweden, with the great design of forming, in that inaccessible retreat of freedom, a religion and a people, which in some remote age might be subservient to his immortal revenge; when his invincible Goths, armed with martial fanaticism, should issue in numerous swarms from the neighbourhood of the Polar circle, to chastise the oppressors of mankind.

Gibbon's Roman Empire.

And bade them follow to the distant north.
O'er its vast course, unconquerably strong,
The rapid flame of battle blazed along,
Rushed o'er the hill, and swept across the plain,
While barbarous nations stemmed its rage in vain:
Even as the lightning-brand, from sounding skies,
With sudden impulse bursts, and strikes, and flies,

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But leaves the dreadful vestige of its shock
Impressed for ever on the blasted rock.
Grande ma breve fulmine il diresti,
Che inaspettato sopraggiunga, e passi:
Ma del suo corso momentaneo resti
Vestigio eterno in dirupati sassi.

Tasso.


Then, in the shade of victory's waving wings,
He rolled his wheels o'er Scandinavian kings.
When flying years had crowned his toil sublime,
And spread his sway o'er all the northern clime,
By the grey hills, where ancient Torneo roars,
He called his chiefs from all his subject shores:
There to his breast nine circling wounds he gave,
And sung, while swiftly flowed the crimson wave:
“Beyond that snow-capped mountain's utmost ridge,
Where the firm rain-bow throws its radiant bridge,
O'er high Valhalla's dome my standard flies,

The following illustrations of this passage are extracted from different parts of the Edda and the Northern Antiquities.

The way from earth to heaven is over the bridge Bifrost, which men call the rain-bow. It is of three colors, is extremely solid, and constructed with more art than any work in the world. It will nevertheless be broken in pieces, when the genii of fire sally forth to war.

Asgard is the city, and Valhalla the hall of Odin, where he receives the souls of heroes who perish in battle. Their beverage is beer and mead; their cups the skulls of enemies whom they have slain. Valhalla has one hundred and forty gates, through every one of which eight heroes may march abreast.

Heimdaller is a very sacred and powerful deity. He dwells at the end of the bridge Bifrost, in a castle called the celestial fort. He is the centinel, or watchman, of the gods. The post assigned him is at the entry into heaven, to prevent the giants from forcing their way over the bridge. He sleeps less than a bird. He sees by night, as well as by day, more than a hundred leagues around him. The smallest sound does not escape him; and he has a trumpet, which is heard through all the worlds.

Thor is the most valiant of the sons of Odin, the most warlike and formidable of the gods. His weapon is the mace Miolner, which he grasps with gauntlets of iron. He governs the thunder, the winds, the rains, the fair weather, and the harvest.

Hilda is one of the Valkyræ. These goddesses officiate in Valhalla, pouring out ale and mead for the heroes. Odin sends them into the field of battle, to make choice of those who are to be slain, and to bestow the victory.

Nilflhil is a place consisting of nine worlds, reserved for those who die of disease or old age. Hela, or Death, there exercises her despotic power. She is livid and ghastly pale: the threshold of her door is Precipice; her palace Anguish; her table Famine; and her attendants Expectation and Delay.

Surtur is the prince of the genii of fire. In the twilight of the gods, the army of these genii will pass on horseback over the bridge of heaven, and break it in pieces. Heimdaller will then rise up, and violently sound his trumpet, to call the gods and heroes to battle.


And Asgard's hundred gates and towers arise.
There, at his post, Heimdaller sits to hear
My sounding tread salute his watchful ear.
There Thor, the thunderer, throws his distant gaze,
And mourns, that still his absent sire delays.
Even now I hear the portal-gates unfurled,
To hail their king returning from the world.
There the twelve sisters, rulers of the fight,
Pour forth the mead, that flows in sparkling light:
That mead, which every hero's soul shall cheer,
Who loves the din of danger's wild career,
Burns through the field, a glory-beaming star,
And falls, the victim of his country's war.
But woe to him, whose trembling spirits shrink
To tempt the strife on terror's dizziest brink:
Him shall avenging Hilda hurl in pain
To endless frost, and Nilflhil's dire domain.

222

The brave, the brave, my glorious feast shall share,
And drown in joy all trace of earthly care,
Till the wild trump, from Bifrost's echoing arch,
Rings to the tread of Surtur's fiery march:
That signal-blast shall every warrior hear,
Brace his tried shield, and grasp his ancient spear;
Breathe loud defiance through his clarion's mouth,
And meet with me the dæmons of the south.”
The wondrous tale his eager chiefs received,
And subject nations listened, and believed.
Then grew the soul, that joyed in coming strife,
Reckless of fate, and prodigal of life.
And when, in peace and luxury enchained,
The splendid name of Rome alone remained,
At once, from all their hills, with tempest-frown,
The countless hosts of Odin's sons came down,
A wasting torrent, on her fruitful plains:
As from the mountain's head, when vernal rains
Dissolve the snow, and roll the turbid rills
Along the hundred channels of the hills,
Through the deep glen the mingling waters pour,
Ως δ'οτε χειμαρροι ποταμοι, κατ' ορεσφι ρεοντες,
Ες μισγαγκειαν συμβαλλετον οβριμον υδωρ,
Κρουνων εκ μεγαλωων, κοιλης εντοσθε χαραδρης:
Των δε τε τηλοσε δουπον εν ουρεσιν εκλυε ποιμην.

Ομηρος.


Send to the shepherd's ear a dreadful roar,
Then through the vale in one vast deluge flow,
Involving, whirling, spoiling, as they go.
Long have the moss, the mildew, and the rain,
Worn the grey lines on Odin's Runic fane:
Yet there the brave may read, with hopes elate,
'Twas valor, rising in the storms of fate,
Whose dauntless thought the mighty source supplied,
Which rolled that flood on Rome's imperial pride.

223

And shall the savage faith, by phrensy taught,
Nerve the wild spirit with all-conquering thought,
While polished man, by sacred science led,
Shrinks in the blast, and bends his weary head?
No! let the mind, that pious truth inspires,
The mind, that wisdom wakes, that feeling fires,
Soar, on the wings of that ethereal flame,
By nature kindled in its infant frame,
To elemental light's all-circling sphere,
Triumphant o'er the ills that wound it here.
Oh mourner! learn thy transient griefs to bear:
For heaven is wronged, when virtue feels despair.
Check not the tear, along thy cheek that steals:
But let thy heart endure the woes it feels.
Fortune and fate may give, and may resume:
Yet love's lost treasure sleeps not in the tomb.
No more with earth-directed eyes complain:
But bow to him whose mercy sends thee pain.
Hark! in his cave the Thracian minstrel sings,
And Hebrus listens as he sweeps the strings:
“From him all beings wake, in him they rest,
The first, the last, the wisest, and the best.
From him the sounding streams of fire are given,
Ζευς πρωτος γενετο, Ζευς υστατος αρχικεραυνος,
Ζευς κεφαλη, Ζευς μεσσα. Διος δ'εκ παντα τετυκται.
Ζευς αρσην γενετο, Ζευς αμβροτος επλετο νυμφη.
Ζευς πψθμην γαιης τε και ουρανου αστεροεντος,
Ζευς πνοιη ανεμων, Ζευς ακαματου πυρος ορμη.
Ζευς ποντου ριζα. Ζευς ηλιος ηδε σεληνη.
Ζευς βασιλευς. Ζευς αυτος απαντων αρχιγενεθλος:
Και Μητις, πρωτος γενετωρ, και Ερως πολυτερπης.
Εν κρατος, εις δαιμων γενετο, μεγας αρχος απαντων:
Εν δε δεμας βασιλειον, εν ω ταδε παντα κυκλειται,
Πυρ, και υδωρ, και γαια, και αιθηρ, νυξ τε, και ημαρ.

Orpheus: Fragm. vi.

It is pleasing to compare this sublime enunciation of the system of the 'ΕΝ ΤΟ ΠΑΝ, with the equally sublime enunciation of the dualistic system in the sixth Æneid, and the impressive inscription on the pedestal of the veiled image in an Indian temple: I am all that is, all that was, and all that will be; and the veil which conceals me has never been raised by man.


The firm-set earth, the planet-spangled heaven,
The ambient air, the billowy ocean's might.
One power, one spirit, one empyreal light,
He rules and circumscribes this mundane ball,
Combines, dissolves, restores, arranges, all.
His voice from chaos, in the birth of time,
Drew beauty, order, harmony sublime;

224

When love, primeval night's refulgent child,
διφυν, πυρσωπεα, κυδρον Ερωτα,
Νυκτος αειγνητης Ψ(ΙΑ κλυτον: ον ρα Φανητα.
Οπλοτεροι κληζουσι βροτοι: πρωτος γαρ εφανθη.

Orpheus: Argonautica, v. 15.

The old reading, ΠΑΤΕΡΑ, is so manifestly shewn to be corrupt by the epithet αειγνητης, (see Herman's note,) that it is surprising Mr. Bryant should treat it as genuine, and speak of it as contradicting the notion of Aristophanes; who, ridiculously enough, represents Night laying an egg, from the shell of which, in due season, bursts the golden-winged Love. It is not only in the monstrous mythology of the Hindus, that we meet with oviparous deities.


Sprang forth in circling flight, and gazed, and smiled,
And o'er the spheres, new-rolled from nature's strife,
Shook from his golden wings the ambrosial dews of life.”