THE ORIGIN OF ALL RELIGIOUS WORSHIP

The word God seems intended to express the idea of a power universal and eternally active, which gives impulse to the movements of all Nature, following the laws of a harmony alike constant and wonderful, and developing itself in various forms, which organized matter can take, which blends itself with and animates everything and which seems to constitute One, and only to belong to itself, in its infinite variety of modifications. Such is the vital force, which comprehends in itself the Universe, or that systematic combination of all the bodies, which one eternal chain binds amongst themselves and which a perpetual movement rolls majestically through the bosom of space and Time without end. When man began to reason upon the causes of his existence and preservation, also upon those of the multiplied effects, which are born and die around him, where else but in this vast and admirable Whole could he have placed at first that sovereignly powerful cause, which brings forth everything, and in the bosom of which all re-enters, in {p.16} order to issue again by a succession of new generations and under different forms. This power being that of the World itself, it was therefore the World, which was considered as God, or as the supreme and universal cause of all the effects produced by it, of which mankind forms a part. This is that great God, the first or rather the only God, who has manifested himself to man through the veil of the matter which he animates and which forms the immensity of the Deity. This is also the sense of that sublime inscription of the temple of Sais: I am all that has been, all that is, and all that shall be, and no mortal has lifted yet the veil, that covers me.

Although this God was everywhere and was all, which bears a character of grandeur and perpetuity in this eternal World, yet did man prefer to look for him in those elevated regions, where that mighty and radiant luminary seems to travel through space, overflowing the Universe with the waves of its light, and through which the most beautiful as well as the most beneficient action of the Deity is enacted on Earth. It would seem as if the Almighty had established his throne above that splendid azure vault, sown with brilliant lights, that from the summit of the heavens he held the reins of the World, that he directed the movements of its vast body, and contemplated himself in forms as varied as they are admirable, wherein he modifies himself incessantly. "The World," says Pliny, "or what we otherwise call Heaven, which comprises in its immensity the whole creation, is an eternal, an infinite God, which has never been " created, and which shall never come to an end. To look for something else beyond it, is useless labour for man, and out (f his reach. Behold that truly sacred Being, eternal and immense, which in eludes within itself everything; it is All in All, or rather itself is All. It is the work of Nature, and itself is Nature." Thus spoke the greatest philosopher as well as the wisest of ancient naturalists. He believed that the World and Heaven ought to be called the supreme cause and God. According {p.17} to his theory, the World is eternally working within itself and upon itself, it is at the same time the maker and the work. It is the universal cause of all the effects, which it contains. Nothing exists outside of it, it is all that has been, all that is, and all that shall be, in other words: Nature itself or God, because by the name of God we mean the eternal infinite and sacred Being, which as cause, contains within itself all that is produced. This is the character, which Pliny attributes to the World, which he calls the great God, beyond whom we shall seek in vain for another.

This doctrine is traced up to the highest antiquity with the Egyptians and the East Indians. The former had their great Pan, who combined in himself all the characters of universal Nature, and who was originally merely a symbolical expression of her fruitful power.

The latter have their God Vishnu, whom they confound frequently with the World, although they make of him sometimes only a fraction of that treble force, of which the universal power is composed. They say, that the Universe is nothing else but the form of Vishnu; that he carries it within his bosom; that all that has been, all that is, and all that shall be, is in him; that he is the beginning and the end of all things; that he is All, that he is a Being alone and supreme, who shows himself right before our eyes, in a thousand forms. He is an infinite: Being, adds the Bagawadam, inseparable from the Universe, which essentially is one with him, because say the Indians. Vishnu is All, and All is in him; which is entirely a similar expression as the one used by Pliny, in order to characterize the God-Universe, or the World, the supreme cause of all the effects produced.

In the opinion of the Brahmins, as well as that of Pliny, the great-maker or the great Demiurgus is not separated or distinguished from his work. The World is not a machine foreign to the Divinity, which is created and moved by it and outside {p.18} of it; it is the development of the divine substance; it is one of the forms under which God shows himself before our eyes. The essence of the World is one and indivisible with that of Bramah, who organizes it. He, who sees the World, sees God, so far as men can see him; as he, who sees the body of a man and his movements, sees man, so much as can be seen of him, although the principle of his movements, of his life and of his mind, remain concealed under the envelope, which the hand touches and the eyes perceives. It is the same with the sacred body of the Deity or of the God-Universe. Nothing exists but in him and through him; outside of him all is nonentity or abstraction. His power is that of the Divinity itself. His movements are those of the great Being, principle of all the others; and his wonderful order is the organization of his visible substance and of that portion of himself, which God shows to man. In this magnificent spectacle, which the Deity presents to us of itself, were conceived the first ideas of God and the supreme cause; on him were fixed the eyes of all those, who have investigated the source of life of all creatures. The first men worshipped the various members of this sacred body of the World, and not feeble mortals, who are carried away in the current of the torrent of ages. And where is indeed the man, who could have maintained the parallel, which might have been drawn between him and Nature?

If it is alleged, that it is to Force, to which altars were first erected, where is that mortal, whose strength could have been compared to that immeasurable, incalculable one, which is scattered all over the World and developed under so many forms and through so many different degrees, producing such wonderful effects; which holds the Sun in equilibrium in the centre of the planetary system; which propels the planets, and yet, retains them in their orbits; which unchains the winds, heaves up the seas or calms the storm; which darts the lightning, displaces and overthrows mountains by volcanic erup- {p.19} tions, and holds the whole Universe in eternal activity? Can it be believed, that the admiration, which this force even to this day produces on our minds, did not equally affect the first mortals, who contemplated in silence the spectacle of the World, and who tried to divine the almighty cause, which set so many different springs in motion? Instead of supposing that the son of Alcmena had replaced the God-Universe and brought him into oblivion, is it not more simple to assume, that man, not being able to paint or represent the power of Nature, except by images as feeble as himself, endeavoured to find in that of the lion or in that of a robust man the figurative expression, with which he designed to awaken the idea of the force of the World? It was not the man or Hercules, who had raised himself to the rank of the Deity, it was the Deity which was lowered and abased to the level of man, who lacked the means to paint or represent it. Therefore, it was not the apotheosis of man, but rather the degradation of the Deity by symbols and images, which has seemed to displace all in the worship rendered to the supreme cause and its parts, and in the feasts designed to celebrate its greatest operations. If it is to the gratitude of mankind for benefits received, that the institution of religious ceremonies and the most august mysteries of antiquity, must be attributed, can it be believed, that mortals, whether Ceres or Bacchus, had higher merits in the eyes of men, than that Earth, which from its fruitful bosom brings forth the crops and fruits, which Heaven feeds with its waters, and which the Sun warms and matures with its fire? that Nature, showering upon us its bountiful treasures, should have been forgotten, and that only some mortals should have been remembered, who had given instructions how to use it? To suppose such a thing, would be to acknowledge our ignorance of the power, which Nature always exercised over man, whose attention is ceaselessly claimed by her, on account of his absolute dependence on her, and of his wants. True it is, that [p.20] sometimes audacious mortals wanted to contend with the veritable gods for their incense and to share it with them, but such an extorted worship lasted only so long, as flattery and fear had an interest in its continuation. Domitian was nothing but a monster under Trajan. Augustus himself was soon forgotten, but Jupiter remained master of the Capitol. Old Saturn was always held in veneration amongst the ancient communities of Italy, where he was worshipped as the God of time, the same as Janus, or the Genius who opens to him the course of the seasons. Pomona and Flora preserved their altars, and the various constellations continued to be the heralds of the feasts of the sacred calendar, because they were those of Nature.

The reason, why the worship of ma}; has always met with obstacles in its establishment and maintenance amongst its equals, is to be found in man himself, when compared with the great Being, which we call the Universe. In man all is weakness, while in the Universe all is grand, all is strength, all is power. Man is born, grows and dies, and scarcely shares for an instant the eternal duration of the World, of which he occupies such an infinitesimal point. Being the issue of dust, he very soon returns to it entirely, while Nature alone remains with its formations and its power, and from the remains of mortal beings is reconstructing new ones. It knows no old age, nor alteration of its strength. Our fathers did not see it come into existence, nor shall our great grand children see it come to an end. When we shall descend into the grave, we shall leave it behind just as young, as when we first sprung into life from its bosom. The farthest posterity shall see the Sun rise as brilliant, as we see it now, and as our fathers saw it. To be born to grow, to get old and to die, express ideas, which do not belong to universal Nature, they being only the attributes of mankind and of the other effects produced by the former. "The Universe," says Ocellus of Lucania, "when con- {p.21} sidered in its totality, gives us no indication whatsoever, which would betray an origin or portend a destruction, nobody has seen it spring into existence, nor grow or improve, it is always the same in the same manner, always uniform and like itself." Thus spoke one of the oldest philosophers, whose writings have come down to us, and since then our observations have made no additions to our knowledge. The Universe seems to us the same, as it appeared to him. Is not this character of perpetuity belonging to the Deity, or to the supreme cause? What would then God be, If he was not all that, which to us seems to be Nature and the internal power which moves it? Shall we search beyond this World for that eternal uncreated Being, of which there is no proof of existence? Is it in the class of produced effects, that we shall place that immense cause, beyond which we see nothing but phantoms, the creatures of our own imagination? I know, that the mind of man, whose reveries are uncontrollable, has gone beyond that, which the eye perceives, and has overleaped the barrier, which Nature has placed before its sanctuary. It has substituted for the cause it saw in action, an other cause, which it did not see, as beyond and superior to it, without in the least troubling itself about the means to prove its reality. Man asked, who had made the World, just as if it had been proved, that the World had been made; nor did he at all enquire, who had made this God, foreign to the World, entirely convinced, that one could exist, without having been made; all of which the philosophers have really thought of the World, or of the universal and visible cause. Because man is only an effect, he wanted also the World to be one, and in the delirium of his metaphysics, he imagined an abstract Being called God, separated from the World and from the cause of the World, placed above the immense sphere, which circumscribes the system of the Universe, and it was only himself alone the guarantee of the existence of this new cause; and thus did {p.22} man create God. But this audacious conjecture is not his first step. The ascendancy, which the visible cause exercises over him is too strong for conceiving the idea of shaking it off so soon. He believed for a long while in the evidence of his own eyes, before he indulged in the illusions of his own imagination, and lost himself in the unknown regions of an invisible World. He saw God, or the great cause in the Universe, before he searched for him beyond it, and he circumscribed his Worship to the sphere of the World, which he saw, before he imagined a God in a World, which he did not see. This abuse of the mind, this refinement of metaphysics is of a very recent date in the history of religious opinions, and may be considered as an exception of the universal religion, which had for its object the visible Nature, and the active and spiritual force, which seems to spread through all its parts, as it may be easily ascertained by the testimony of historians, and by the political and religious monuments of the ancients.

EVIDENCES OF HISTORY AND OF POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS MONUMENTS,
OF THE UNIVERSALITY OF THE WORSHIP OF NATURE

Henceforth we shall not be satisfied with mere arguments, in order to prove that the Universe and its members, considered as so many parts of the great cause or of the Great Being, must have attracted the attention and the homage of mortals. We shall be able to demonstrate by facts, and by a summary of the religious history of all nations, that that, which ought to have come to pass, has really happened, and that all men of all countries, since the highest antiquity, have had no other Gods, but those of Nature, in other words, the World and it most active and most luminous parts, Heaven, Earth, the Sun and the Moon, the Planets, the fixed Stars, the Elements and in general all, which bears a character of cause and perpetuity in Nature. To portray and to praise in songs the World and its operations, was in olden times the same, as portraying and glorifying the Deity.

In whatever direction we may look on the ancient as well as on the new continent, Nature and its principal agents have had everywhere their altars. Its august body and its sacred members were the object of veneration of all nations. "Chaeremon," and the wisest priests of Egypt believed with Pliny, "that nothing but the World and the visible cause should be admitted, and they supported their opinion by that of the oldest Egyptians," who, they say, "did only acknowledge as Gods, the Sun, the Moon, the Planets, the Stars composing the Zodiac, and all those decades which by their rising and setting mark the divisions of the signs, their subdivisions into decans, the horoscope and the stars which preside there, and which are {p.24} called the mighty rulers of Heaven. They aver, that the Egyptians who looked upon the Sun as a great God, architect and moderator of the Universe—explained not only the fable of Osiris, but also all their religious fables generally by the Stars and by the action of their movements, by their apparition and by their disappearance, by the phases of the Moon, by the increase or the diminution of its light, by the progressive march of the Sun, by the divisions of the Heavens and of time into two great parts, one of which was assigned to the Day, and the other to the Night; by the Nile and finally by the action of physical causes. Those are—they say—the Gods, sovereign arbiters of destiny, which our fathers have honoured by sacrifices and to which they have erected images." Indeed, we have shown in our larger work, that even the animals, which were consecrated in the temples of Egypt and honoured by worship, represented the various functions of the great cause and had reference to Heaven, to the Sun and the Moon, and to the different constellations, as it has been well observed by Lucian. For instance, that beautiful star Sirius, or the dog star, was worshipped under the name of Anubis, and under the form of a sacred dog was fed in the temples. The hawk represented the Sun, the bird Ibis, the Moon, and astronomy was the soul of the whole religious system of the Egyptians. They ascribed the government of the World to the Sun and the Moon, which were worshipped under the name of Osiris and Isis, as the two primary and eternal Divinities, from which depended all that great work of generation and vegetation in this sublunary World. In honour of that luminary, which dispenses the light, they built the city of the Sun or Heliopolis, and a temple in which they placed the statue of that God. It was gilded and represented a young beardless man, whose arm was raised and who held in one hand a whip, in the attitude of a charioteer. In his left hand was the lightning and a bundle of ears of corn. {p.25} They represented thus the power and at the same time the beneficence of that God, who darts the lightning and makes the crops grow and ripen.

The river Nile, which in its periodical overflow fertilizes tile fields of Egypt with its mud, was also honoured as a God, or as one of the beneficent causes of Nature. It had its altars and temples at Nilopolis or at the city of the Nile. Near the cataracts, above Elephantis, there was a college of priests, appointed for its worship. The most magnificent feasts were given in its honour, principally at the moment, when it commences to overflow the plain, which was thereby fertilized every year. They carried its statue around the fields with great ceremonies; afterwards the people went to the theatre and assisted at public feasts; they celebrated dances and chanted hymns similar to those, with which they addressed Jupiter, whose functions devolved on the soil of Egypt upon the Nile. All the other active parts of Nature received the respectful homage of the Egyptians. There was an inscription on an ancient column in honour of the immortal Gods, and the Gods which are mentioned there, are the Breath or the Air, Heaven, Earth, the Sun and the Moon, Night and Day.

Finally, in the Egyptian system, the World was looked upon as a great Divinity, composed of the assemblage of a multitude of Gods or partial causes, which represented only the several members of that great body, called the World or the Good Universe.

The Phoenicians, who with the Egyptians, have mostly influenced the religion of other nations, and have spread over the globe their theogonies, attributed Divinity to the Sun and Moon and the Stars, and regarded them as the only causes of the production and destruction of all beings. The sun was their great Divinity under the name of Hercules.

The Ethiopians, the fathers of the Egyptians, living in a burning climate, worshipped nevertheless the divinity of the Sun, {p.26} but above all that of the Moon, which presided over the nights, the sweet coolness of which, made them forget the heat of the day. All the Africans offered sacrifices to these great Divinities. It was in Ethiopia, where the famous table of the Sun was found. Those Ethiopians, who lived above Meroe, acknowledged eternal Gods of an incorruptible nature, according to Diodorus, such as the Sun and the Moon, and all the Universe or the World. The same as the Incas of Peru, they called themselves the children of the Sun, which they regarded as their first progenitor: Persina was the priestess of the Moon, and the King her consort was priest of the Sun.

The Troglodytes had a fountain, dedicated to the Star of Day. In the neighbourhood of the temple of Ammon, there was a rock, sacred to the south-wind, and a fountain of the Sun. The Blemmyes, situated on the confines of Egypt and Ethiopia, immolated human victims to the Sun. The rock of Bagia and the island of Nasala, situated beyond the territory of the Ichthyophagi, were dedicated to the same luminary. No man dared to approach the island, and frightful stories deterred the most daring mortals to put a profane foot on it.

There was also a rock in ancient Cyrenaica, on which no one dared to lay a hand, without committing a crime, because it was dedicated to the east wind.

The divinities, which were invoked as witnesses in the treaty of the Carthaginians with Philip, the son of Demetrius, were the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, the Rivers, the Prairies, and the Water. Massinissa, in thanking the Gods on the arrival of Scipio in his empire, addresses himself to the Sun.

The natives of the island of Socotora and the Hottentots preserve to this day the ancient veneration, which the Africans had always for the Moon, which they regard as the principle of sublunary vegetation; they applied to her, when they wanted rain, sunshine or good crops. She is to them a kind {p.27} and beneficent Divinity, such as was Isis with the Egyptians.

All the Africans, who inhabit the coast of Angola and of Congo, worship the Sun and the Moon. The natives of the island of Tenerife worshipped them also, as well as the planets and other stars, on the arrival of the Spaniards.

The Moon was the great Divinity of the Arabs. The Sarazens gave her the epithet of Cabar or the Great; her Crescent adorns to this day the religious monuments of the Turks. Her elevation under the sign of the Bull, constituted one of the principal feasts of the Saracens and of the sabean Arabs. Each Arab tribe was under the invocation of a constellation. The tribe Hamiaz was consecrated to the Sun; the tribe Cemah to the Moon; the tribe Miza was under the protection of the Star Aldebaran; the tribe Tai under that of Canopus; the tribe Kaïs under that of Sirius; the tribes Lachamus and Idamus worshipped the planet Jupiter; the tribe Asad that of Mercury, and so forth the others. Each one worshipped one of the celestial bodies as its tutelar genius. Atra, a city in Arabia, was consecrated to the Sun and was in possession of rich offerings, which had been deposited in her temple. The ancient Arabs gave sometimes to their children the title of servants to the Sun.

The Caabah of the Arabs was before the time of Mahomet, a temple dedicated to the Moon. The black stone which the Musulmans kiss with so much devotion to this day, is, as it is pretended, an ancient statue of Saturmus. The walls of the great mosque of Kufah, built on the foundation of an ancient Pyrea or temple of the fire, are filled with figures of planets artistically engraved. The ancient worship of the Arabs was the Sabismus, a religion universally spread all over the Orient. Heaven and the Stars were the first objects thereof.

This religion was that of the ancient Chaldeans, and the Orientals pretend that their Ibrahim or Abraham was brought up in that doctrine. There is still to be seen at Hella, over {p.28} the ruins of the ancient Babylon, a mosque called Mesched Eschams, or the mosque of the Sun. It was in this city, that the ancient temple of Bel or the Sun, the great Divinity of the Babylonians, existed, it is the same God, to whom the Persians erected temples and consecrated images under the name of Mithras. They worshipped also the Heavens under the name of Jupiter, the Moon and Venus, Fire, Earth, Air or the Wind, Water, and they acknowledge no other Gods since the remotest antiquity. In reading the sacred books of the ancient Persians, which are contained in the collection of the books of Zend, we find on every page invocations addressed to Mithras to the Moon, to the stars, to the elements, to mountains, to trees and to all parts of Nature. The fire Ether, which circulates in the whole Universe and of which the Sun is the most apparent centre, was represented in the Pyreas or fire temples by the sacred fire, which was kept burning by the Magi.

Each planet, which contains a portion of it, had its Pyrea or particular temple, where incense was burned in its honour; people went to the chapel of the Sun, in order to worship that luminary and to celebrate its feast, to that of Mars and Jupiter &c. to adore Mars and Jupiter and so of the other planets. Darius, King of the Persians, invoked the Sun, Mars and the eternal Fire, before giving battle to Alexander. Above his tent there was an image of this luminary, enclosed in crystal, reflecting far off its rays. Amongst the ruins of Persepolis, there may be seen the figure of. a King, kneeling before the image of the Sun; near it, is the sacred fire preserved by the Magi, and which Perseus, as they say, had formerly brought down from Heaven to the Earth.

The Parsees, or the descendants of Zoroaster, still address their prayers to the Sun, the Moon and the Stars, and principally to the Fire, as the most subtle and the purest of all the elements. They preserved this fire especially in Aderbighian, where the great Pyrea or fire temple of the Persians was, and {p.29} at Asaac in the country of the Parthians. The Guebres, established at Surat, preserve carefully in a temple, remarkable for its simplicity, the sacred fire, with the worship of which their fathers had been intrusted by Zoroaster. Niebuhr has seen one of these hearths, where as they pretend, the fire was preserved for over two hundred years, without ever having been extinguished.

Talarsaces built a temple at Armavir in the ancient Phasiah on the shores of the Araxes and consecrated there a statue to the Sun and the Moon, Divinities, which were worshipped formerly by the Iberians, the Albanians and the Colchians. The latter planet was principally worshipped in all that part of Asia, in Armenia and Capadocia, also the God Month, which the Moon engendered by its revolution. All Asia minor, Phrygia, Jonia were covered with temples, dedicated to these two great flambeaux of Nature. The Moon, under the name of Diana, had a magnificent temple at Ephesus. The God.M2onth had also his own near Laodicea, and in Phrygia; the Sun was worshipped at Thymbra in Troas, under the name of Apollo.

The island of Rhodes was consecrated to the Sun, to which a colossal statue was erected, known by the name of the Colossus of Rhodes.

The Turks in the North of Asia, established near the Caucasus, held the Fire in great veneration, also Water and Earth, which they celebrated in their sacred hymns.

The Abasges or Abascians, inhabiting the extreme end of the Black Sea, worshipped still in the time of Justinian, woods and forests, and their principal Divinities were trees.

All those Scythian nations, which led a nomadic life in those immense countries in the North of Europe and of Asia, had for their principal Divinity the Earth, from which they drew their nourishment, for themselves and their herds;-they made her the wife of Jupiter or of Heaven, by the rain of which, she is fe- {p.30} cundated. The Tartars, established at the East of Imaiis, worship the Sun, the Light, the Fire, the. Earth, and they offer to those Divinities the premices of their food, chiefly in the morning.

The ancient Massagetes had for their sole Divinity the Sun, to which they immolated horses.

The Derbices, a people of Hyrcania, worshipped the Earth. All the Tartars in general have the greatest veneration for the Sun, which they regard as the father of the Moon, which borrows its light from it. They make libations in honour of the Elements, and principally of Fire and Water.

The Votiacs of the government of Orenburg adore the Divinity of the Earth, which they call Mon-Kalzin; the God of the Water, which they call Vu-Imnar, they adore also the Sun, as the seat of their great Divinity.

The Tartar mountaineers of the territory of Udiusk (Oudiusk) worship Heaven and the Sun.

The Moskanians sacrificed to a Supreme Being, which they called Schkai, being the name, which they give to Heaven. When they made their prayers, they turned towards the East, like all the nations of Tchudic origin.

The Tchuvaches counted the Sun and the Moon amongst the number of their Divinities; they sacrificed to the Sun at the commencement of spring, at their seed time and to the Moon on each renewal.

The Tunguses worship the Sun and make it their principal Divinity; they represent it under the emblem of Fire.

The Huns worshipped Heaven and Earth, and their leader took the title of Tanjan or the son of Heaven.

The Chinese, located at the eastern confines of Asia, worship Heaven under the name of the great Tien, and his name signifies according to some, the spirit of Heaven, and according to others the material Heaven. This is the Uranus of the Phoenicians, of the Atlantes and of the Greeks. The supreme {p.31} Being is denoted in the Chu-King, by the name of Tien or Heaven and of Chang-Tien, the supreme Heaven. The Chinese say of this Heaven, that it penetrates all and comprises all. In China there are temples of the Sun and the Moon and of the North stars. Thait-Tçurn may be seen to go to Miac, in order to offer a burnt offering to Heaven and Earth. Similar sacrifices are made also to the mountain and river Gods.

The Chinese erected a temple to the Great Being, the effect of the union of Heaven, Earth and the Elements, a being which answers to our World and which they call Tay-Kai: it is at the epoch of the two solstices, when the Chinese are worshipping Heaven.

The Japanese adore the stars and they suppose, that they are animated by Spirits or by Gods. They have their temple of the splendour of the Sun, and they celebrate the feast of the Moon on the seventh of September. The people passes the night in rejoicings at the light of that luminary.

It is not yet 900 years ago, that the inhabitants of the island of Formosa acknowledged no other Gods but the Sun and the Moon, which they regarded as two Divinities, or supreme causes, an idea absolutely similar to that, which the Egyptians and the Phoenicians had of these two luminaries.

The Aracanese have built a temple to the Light, in the island of Munay, known by the name of temple of the atoms of the Sun.

The inhabitants of Tuncquin worshipped seven heavenly idols, which represent the seven planets, and five terrestrial ones, consecrated to the elements. The Sun and the Moon have their worshippers in the island of Ceylon, the Taprobane of the Ancients; the other planets are also worshipped there. The two first mentioned luminaries are the only Divinities of {p.32} the natives of the island of the Sunatra; the same Gods are revered in the islands of Java, of Celebes and of Sonde, also at the Moluccas and the Philippine islands.

The Talapoins, or the religionists of Siam profess the greatest veneration for all the elements and for all parts of the sacred body of Nature.

The Hindus have a superstitious veneration for the water of the river Ganges; they believe in its divinity, as the Egyptians believed in that of the Nile. The Sun has been one of the great Divinities of the East Indians, if we may believe Clement of Alexandria. The Indians and even the spiritualists worship the two great luminaries of Nature, the Sun and the Moon, which they call the two eyes of the Divinity. They celebrate every year on the 9th of January a feast in honour of the Sun. They admit five elements, to which they have erected five pagodas.

The seven planets are adored to this day under various names in the kingdom of Nepal; they sacrifice to them every day.

Lucian avers, that the Indians, when worshipping the Sun, turn their faces towards the East, and that amidst of a profound silence, they executed a kind of a dance in imitation of the movements of that luminary. In one of their temples they had the God of Light represented, as mounted on a chariot drawn by four horses.

The ancient Indians had also their sacred fire, which they drew from the rays of the Sun on the summit of a very high mountain, which they regarded as the central point of India. The Brahmins preserve up to this day on the mountain Tirunamaly a fire, which they hold in the greatest veneration. At sunrise they go to draw water from a pond, and they throw some of it towards that luminary as a testimonial of their respect and gratitude for having again reappeared and dissipated the darkness of night. On the altar of the Sun, they lighted {p.33} the flambeaux, which they had to carry before Phaotes, their newly made King, whom they desired to receive.

The author of the Bagawadanm acknowledges, that several Indian tribes address their prayers to the fixed stars and to the planets. Thus, the worship of the Sun, the Stars and the Elements formed the basis of the religion of the whole of Asia, in other words, of countries peopled by the greatest, the oldest and wisest of nations, by those, which influenced the religion of the nations of the West and in general those of Europe. So, that when we look on this last portion of the old World, we find the sabismus and the worship of the Sun, the Moon and the Stars equally extended, although often disguised under other names and under other forms so skilfully drawn up, that they were sometimes not recognized even by their own worshippers.

The ancient Greeks, if we may believe Plato, had no other Gods but those which the Barbarians of that time worshipped, when that philosopher lived, and those Gods were the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, Heaven and Earth.

Epicharmis, a disciple of Pythagoras, speaks of the Sun and the Moon and the Stars, the Earth, Water and Fire as Gods. Orpheus considered the Sun as the greatest of all the Gods, and ascending before daybreak an elevated place, he awaited there the reappearance of that luminary, in order to render homage to it. Agamemnon, according to Homer, sacrificed to the Sun and to the Earth.

The chorus in the Oedipus of Sophocles, invokes the Sun as the first of all the God's and as their Chief.

The Earth was worshipped in the island of Cos; it had a temple at Athens and at Sparta, also its altar and oracle at Olympia. That of Delphi was originally consecrated to it. In reading Pausanias, to whom we owe a description of Greece and of her religious monuments, we find everywhere traces of the worship of Nature; there are altars, temples and statues {p.34} consecrated to the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, to the Pleiades, the celestial Charioteer, the Goat, the Bear or Callisto, to the Night, Rivers, &c.

There were to be seen in Laconia seven columns erected in honour of the seven planets. The Sun had its statue, and the Moon its sacred fountain at Thalma, in the same country.

The people of Megalopolis sacrificed to the wind Boreas, and had a sacred grove planted in his honour.

The Macedonians worshipped Estia or the Fire, and addressed their prayers to Bedy or to the element of Water; Alexander, King of Macedonia, sacrificed to the Sun, the Moon and to the Earth.

The oracle of Dodona required in all its answers, a sacrifice to the river Acheloius; Horner gives the epithet of sacred to the waters of Alpheus; Nestor and the Pylians sacrificed a bull to that river. Achilles let his hair grow in honour of Sperchius, he invokes also the wind Boreas and Zephyr.

The rivers reputed sacred and divine, as much on account of the perpetuity of their course, as because they kept up vegetation, watered plants and beasts, and because Water is one of the first principals of Nature, and one of the most powerful agents of the universal power of the Great Being.

In Thessaly they fed sacred ravens in honour of the Sun. The same bird is found on the monuments of Mithras in Persia.

The temples of ancient Byzantium were consecrated to the Sun, the Moon and to Venus. Those three luminaries, also Areturus or the beautiful star of the herdsman Bootes, and the twelve signs of the zodiac had their idols there. Rome and Italy preserved also a great many monuments of the worship of Nature and of her principal agents. Tatius, when he came to Rome to share the sceptre of Romulus, erected temples to the Sun, the Moon and Saturnus, to the Light and to the Fire. The eternal fire or Vesta was the most ancient object of {p.35} worship of the Romians; virgins were entrusted with its preservation in the temple of that Goddess, like the Magi in Asia in their Pyreas; because it was the same worship as that of the Persians. It was, as Jornandes says, an image of the eternal fires, which shine in the Heavens.

Every one knows the famous temples of Tellus or of the Earth, in which very often the meetings of the Senate were held. The Earth took the name of mother, and was regarded as a Divinity with the Manes.¹

A fountain was discovered in Latium, called the fountain of the Sun, in the vicinity of which two altars had been erected, on which Æneas, on his arrival in Italy, had offered a sacrifice. Romulus instituted the games of the circus, in honour of that Luminary, which measures the year in its career, and the four elements, which it modifies by its mighty action. Aurelianus erected at Rome the temple of the Star of Day, which he enriched with gold and precious stones. Augustus before him imported from Egypt the images of the Sun and the Moon, which adorned his triumph over Antonius and Cleopatra.

If we pass over into Sicily, we see three oxen consecrated to the Sun. That island itself was called the island of the Sun. The oxen which were eaten by the companions of Ulysses, when they arrived there, were consecrated to that luminary.

The inhabitants of Assora worshipped the river Chrysas, which ran along their walls, and which supplied them with water. They had erected to it a temple and a statue. At Engyum the mother Goddesses were worshipped, which were the same Divinities as were adored at Creta, in other words, the great and the little Bear.

In Spain, the people of the province of Betica had built a temple in honour of the morning star and the twilight. The Accitanians had erected a statue by the name of Mars to the {p.36} Sun, the radiant head of which expressed the nature of that Divinity. This same God was worshipped at Cadiz under the name of Hercules since the highest antiquity.

All the nations of the North of Europe, known under the general denomination of the Celtic nations, rendered religious worship to Fire, Water, Air, Earth, to the Sun, the Moon and the Stars, to the vault of Heaven, to the Trees, Rivers, Fountains, &c.

Julius Caesar, the conqueror of the Gauls, affirms, that the ancient Germans worshipped only the visible cause and its principal agents, the Gods only, of which they could see and feel the influence, the Sun the Moon, the Fire or Vulcan, the Earth under the name of Hertha.

A temple was found in the province of Narbone in ancient Gaul, erected to the wind Circius, which purifies the air. There was also a temple of the Sun at Toulouse. In the district of the Gevaudan there was a lake called Helanus, to which religious honours were rendered.

Charlemagne in his capitulars, forbid the old custom of placing lighted candles near the trees and fountains, for the purpose of a superstitious worship.

Canute, King of England, prohibited in his realm the worship of the Sun, the Moon and the Fire of the running Water, of Fountains and Forests, &c.

The Francs, who entered Italy under the leadership of Theodibert, immolated the women and children of the Goths, and made an offering of then to the river Po, as the first fruits of the war. Also the Alemanni, according to Agathias, sacrificed horses to the rivers; and the Trojans to the Scamnander, by throwing these animals alive into its waves. The natives of the island of Thule, and all the Scandinavians placed their Divinities in the Firmament, in the Earth, in the Sea, into running Water, &c.

It will be seen from this abridged statement of the religious {p.37} history of the ancient continent, that there is not a point in the three parts of the ancient World, where the worship of Nature and of her principal agents may not be found established, and that civilized nations, as well as those that were not, have all acknowledged the power or dominion of the universal visible cause, or of the World and its most active parts over man.

If we pass over to America, a new scene is presented to us there everywhere, as much in the physical, as in the moral and political order. Everything is new, plants, quadrupeds, trees, fruits, reptiles, birds, customs and habits. Religion alone is still the same as in the old World, it is always the Sun, the Moon, Heaven, the Stars, Earth and the Elements which are worshipped there.

The Incas of Peru called themselves the sons of the Sun; they erected temples and altars to that luminary and instituted feasts in its honour; it was looked upon, the same as in Egypt and Phoenicia, as the fountain of all the blessings of Nature. In this worship, the Moon had also its share, as she was regarded as the mother of all sublunary productions, and was honoured as the wife and sister of the Sun. Venus, the most brilliant planet after the Sun, had also its altars there, like the meteors, lightning, thunder, and chiefly the beautiful Iris or the rainbow. Virgins, like the Vestals at Rome, had charge of the perpetual maintenance of the sacred fire.

The same worship was established at Mexico with all the splendour, which an intelligent people can give to its religion. The Mexicans contemplated the Heavens and gave it the name of Creator and of Admirable; there was not the least apparent part of the Universe, which was not worshipped by' them, and had its altars.

The natives of the Isthmus of Panama and of all that country, known by the name of Terra firma, believe in a God in Heaven, and that God was the Sun, the husband of the Moon; {p.38} they worshipped these two luminaries, as the two supreme causes, which govern the World. It was the same with the natives of Brazil, of the Caribbee islands, of Florida, and with the Indians of the coast of Cumana, of Virginia, of Canada and of Hudson's bay.

The Iroquois call Heaven Garonthia; the Hurons, Sironhiata, and both worship it as the great spirit, the good Lord, the father of life, they also give to the Sun the title of the Supreme Being.

The savages of North-America never make a treaty, without taking the Sun as a witness and as a guarantee, the same as was done by Agamemnon in Homer and by the Carthaginians in Polybius. They make their allies smoke the calumet, or the pipe of peace, and they blow the smoke towards that luminary. According to the traditions of the Pawnees, savages living on the shores of the Missouri, they received the calumet from the Sun.

The natives of Cayenne worshipped also the Sun, the Heavens and the Stars. In one word, everywhere in America, where traces of worship were discovered, it was observed, that it had for object some of the parts of the great All, or the World.

The worship of Nature must therefore be considered as the primitive and universal religion of the two hemispheres. To these evidences, which are drawn from the history of the nations of the two continents, are added others, which are taken from their religious and political monuments, from the divisions and distributions of the sacred and of the social order, from their feasts, from their hymns and from their religious cantos and from the opinions of their philosophers.

From the time, when men ceased to assemble on the summit of high mountains, in order to contemplate and to worship Heaven, the Sun, the Moon and the other Stars, which were the first Divinities, and that they gathered in temples, they {p.39} wanted to find again within those narrow precincts the images of their Gods and a regular representation of that astonishing Whole, known by the name of World or the great All, which they worshipped.

Thus the famous labyrinth of Egypt represented the twelve houses of the Sun, to which it was consecrated by twelve palaces, which communicated with each other, and which formed the mass of the temple of that luminary, which engenders the year and the seasons in circulating in the twelve signs of the Zodiac. In the temple of Heliopolis or of the city of the Sun, were found twelve columns covered with symbols, relative to the twelve signs and the Elements.

Those enormous masses of stone, consecrated to the Star of Day, had a pyramidal configuration, as the most appropriate to represent the solar rays and the form under which the flame ascends.

The statue of Apollo Agyeus was a column which ended in a point, and Apollo was the Sun.

The care of modelling the figures of the images and statues of the Gods of Egypt was not left to common artists. The priests gave the designs, and it was upon spheres, or in other words, after the inspection of the Heavens, and its astronomical images, that they determined upon the forms. Thus we find, that in all religions the numbers seven and twelve, of which the former applies to the seven planets and the other to that of the twelve signs, are sacred numbers, which are reproduced in all kind and sorts of forms. For instance, such. are the twelve, great Gods, the twelve apostles, the twelve sons of Jacob or the twelve tribes; the twelve altars of Janus; the twelve labours of Hercules or of the Sun; the twelve shields of Mars; the twelve brothers Arvaux; the twelve Gods Consentes; the twelve governors in the Manichean system; the adeetyas of the East Indians; the twelve asses of the Scandinavians; the city of the twelve gates in the Apocalypse; the twelve wards of the {p.40} city, of which Plato conceived the plan; the four tribes of Athens, subdivided into three "fratries" according to the division made by Cecrops; the twelve sacred cushions, on which the Creator sits in the cosmogony of the Japanese; the twelve precious stones of the rational or the ornament worn by the high-priest of the Jews, ranged three and three, as the seasons; the twelve cantons of the Etruscan league and their twelve "lucumons" or chiefs of the canton; the confederation of the twelve cities of Jonia; that of the twelve cities of Eolia; the twelve Teheu, into which Chun divided China; the twelve regions into which the natives of Corea divided the World; the twelve officers, whose duty it is to draw the sarcophagus in the obsequies of the King of Tunquin; the twelve led-horses; the twelve elephants, &c., which were conducted in that ceremony.

It was the same case with the number seven. For instance the candlestick with seven branches, which represented the planetary system in the temple of Jerusalem; the seven enclosures of the temple; those of the city of Ecbatana likewise of the number of seven and dyed in the colours that were assigned to the planets; the seven doors of the cave of Mithras or the Sun; the seven stories of the tower of Babylon, surmounted by the eight, which represented Heaven, and which served as a temple to Jupiter, the seven gates of Thebes, each of which had the name of a planet; the flute of seven pipes put into the hands of the God Pan, who represented the great, All or Nature; the lyre of seven strings, touched by Apollo, or by the God of the Sun; the book of Fate, composed of seven books; the seven prophetic rings of the Brahmins, on each of which the name of a planet was engraved; the seven stones consecrated to the same planets in Laconia, the division into seven casts adopted by the Egyptians and by the Indians since the highest antiquity; the seven idols, which the Bonzes carry every year with great ceremony into seven different temples; the seven mystic vowels, which formed the sacred formula, ut- {p.41} tered in the temples of the planets; the seven Pyreas or altars of the monument of Mithras; the seven Amchaspands or great spirits invoked by the Persians; the seven archangels of the Chaldeans and of the Jews; the seven ringing towers of ancient Byzantium; the week of every nation, or the period of the seven days, each one being consecrated to a planet; the period of seven times seven years of the Jews; the seven sacraments of the Christians, &c. We find chiefly in that astrological and cabalistical book, known by the name of the Apocalypse of John the number twelve and seven repeated on every page. The first one is repeated fourteen times, and the second twenty-four times.

The number three hundred and sixty, which is that of the days of the year, without including the epagomenes or epacts, was also described by the 360 Gods, which the theology of Orpheus admitted; by the 360 cups of water of the Nile, which the Egyptian priests poured out, one each day, into a sacred cask in the city of Achante; by the 360 Eons or gnostic Genii; by the 360 idols placed in the palace of the Dairi of Japan; by the 360 small statues surrounding that of Hobal or of the God Sun, Bel, worshipped by the ancient Arabs; by the 360 chapels built around the splendid mosque of Balk, erected by the exertions of the chief of the family of the Barmecides; by the 360 Genii, who take possession of the soul after death, according to the doctrine of the Christians of St. John; by the 360 temples built on. the mountain of Lowham in China; by the wall of 360 stades, with which Semiramis surrounded the city of Belus or of the Sun, the famous Babylon. All these monuments give us a description of the same division of the World, and of the circle divided into degrees, which the Sun travels over. Finally the division of the zodiac into twenty-seven parts, which signify the stations of the Moon, and into thirty-six, which is that of the decaris, were in like manner the object of the political and religious distributions.

{p.42} Not only the divisions of Heaven, but the constellations themselves were represented in the temples, and their images were consecrated amongst the monuments of worship and on the medals of the cities. The beautiful star of the Capricorn, which is placed in the heavens in the constellation of the charioteer, had its statue in gilded bronze in the public square of the Phliassians. The Charioteer himself had his temples, his statues, his tomb, his mysteries in Greece, and was worshipped under the name of Myrtillus, Hippolytus, Spherocus, Cillas, Erechtheus, &c.

The statues and the tombs of the Atlantides, or of the Pleiades, Sterope, Phaedra, &c., were also to be seen there.

Near Argos the hill or mount was shown, which covered the head of the famous Medusa, the type of which is in the heavens at the feet of Perseus.

The Moon or the Diana of Ephesus, wore on her breast the figure of the Cancer, which is one of the twelve signs and is the abode of that planet. The celestial Bear, worshipped by the name of Calisto, and the Herdsman (Bootes) under that of Areas, had their tombs in Arcadia, near the Altars of the Sun.

The same herdsman Bootes had his statue in ancient Byzantium, also Orion, the famous Nimbrod (Nimrod) of the Assyrians: the last mentioned had his tomb at Tanagra in Boeotia.

The Syrians had the image of the Fishes, one of the celestial signs, consecrated in their temple.

The constellation of Nesra or the Eagle, of Aiyuk or the Capricorn, of Yagutho or the Pleiads, and of Suwaha or Alhauwnha, the Serpentarius, had their statues with the ancient Sabeans. These names may still be found in the commentary of Hyde on Ulug-Beigh.

The religious system of the Egyptians was entirely sketched upon the Heavens, if we believe Lucian, and as it is easy to demonstrate.

In general it may be said, that the whole starred Heaven {p.43} had come down on the soil of Greece and Egypt, in order to be painted there and to be embodied in the images of the Gods, be they living or inanimate.

Most of these cities were built under the inspection and under the protection of a celestial sign. Their horoscope was drawn; hence the impression of the images of the constellations on their medals. Those of Antiochia on the Orontes represent the Ram with the crescent of the Moon; those of Mamertina that of the Bull; that of the Kings of Comagena the type of the Scorpion; those of Zeugma and of Anazarba that of the Capricorn. Almost all the celestial signs are found on the medals of Antoninus; the star Hesperus was the public seal of the Locrians, of the Ozoles and of the Opuntians.

It is also remarkable, that the ancient feasts are connected with the great epochs of Nature and with the celestial system. Everywhere are to be found the solsticial and equinoctial festivals. The winter solstice is above all distinguished; it is then, that the Sun begins to rise again, and to take anew its route towards our climes; and that of the solstice of spring, when it brings back the long clays to our hemisphere with the active and genial heat, which sets vegetation again in motion, which develops all the germs and ripens all the products of the Earth. Christmas and Easter of the Christians, those worshippers of the Sun under the name of Christ, which was substituted for that of Mithras, whatever the allusion, which ignorance and bad faith may try to make itself, are yet an existing proof amongst us. All nations have had their feasts of Ember-week or of the four seasons.

They may be found even with the Chinese. One of their most ancient emperors, Fohi, established sacrifices, the celebration of which were fixed at the two equinoxes and at the two solstices. Four pavilions were erected to the Moons of the four Seasons. The ancient Chinese, says Confucius, established a solemn sacrifice in honour of Chang-Ty, at the time of the winter sol- {p.44} stice. because it was then, that the Sun, after having passed through the twelve palaces, recommences again its career, in order to distribute anew the blessings of its light.

They instituted a second sacrifice in the season of spring, as a particular thanksgiving day, of the gifts to mankind by means of the Earth. These two sacrifices could only be offered by the emperor of China, the son of Heaven.

The Persians have their Neuruz or feasts of the Sun in its transit across the Ramn, or of the sign of the equinox, of spring, and the Jews have their feast of the passage under the Lamb. The Neuruz is one of the greatest festivities of Persia. The Persians celebrated formerly the entrance of the Sun into each sign with the noise of musical instruments.

The ancient Egyptians walked the sacred cow seven times around the temple at the winter solstice. At the equinox of spring they celebrated the happy epoch, when the celestial Fire warmed Nature again every year. That festival of the Fire and the triumphant light, of which our sacred Fire on holy Saturday, and our paschal wax taper are still the true image, existed in the city of the Sun in Assyria, under the name of the feast of the Pyres.

The feasts which were celebrated by the ancient Sabeans in honour of the planets, were fixed under the sign of their elevation, sometimes under that of their abode, as that of Saturnus of the ancient Romans was established in December under the Capricorn, the abode of that planet. All the feasts of the ancient calendar of the pontiffs are connected with the rising and setting of some constellation or some star, as we can ascertain, by reading the fastes (or Calendars) of Ovid. It is chiefly in the games of the Circus, instituted in honour of the God, who dispenses the light, that the religious genius of the Romans and the connection of their feasts with Nature, {p.45} are manifested. The Sun, the Moon, the Planets, the Elements, the Universe and its most conspicuous parts, all was represented by emblems, which were analogous to their nature. The Sun had its horses, which on the race course or Hippodrom, imitated the career of that luminary in the Heavens.

The Olympic fields were represented by a vast amphitheatre or arena, which was consecrated to the Sun. In the midst of it there stood the temple of that God which was surmounted by his image. The East and the West, as the limits of the course of the Sun were traced and marked by boundaries, and placed towards the remotest part of the circus.

The races took place from East to West, until seven rounds were made, on account of the seven planets.

The Sun and the Moon had their chariots, the same as Jupiter and Venus; the charioteers were dressed in clothes, the colour of which was analogous to the hue of the different elements. The chariot of the Sun was drawn by four horses, and that of the Moon by two.

The Zodiac was represented in the circus by twelve gates; there was also traced the movement of the circumpolar stars or of the two Bears.

Everything was personified in those feasts; the Sea or Neptune, the Earth or Ceres, and so on the other elements. They were represented by actors, contending for the prizes.

These contests were instituted, they say, in order to illustrate the harmony of the Universe, of Heaven, of the Earth and of the Sea.

The institution of these games was attributed to Romulus by the Romans, and I believe that they were an imitation of the races of the hippodrome of the Arcadians and of the games of Elis.

The phases of the Moon were also the object of feasts and chiefly of the neomenia or the new light, with which this planet is invested at the commencement of each month, because the {p.46} God Month had his temples, his statues and his mysteries.

The whole ceremonial of the procession of Isis, described in Apuleius, has reference to Nature and delineates its various parts. The sacred hymns of the Ancients had the same object, if we may judge by those which have come down to us, and which are attributed to Orpheus, but whosoever may be their author, it is evident, that he only sings Nature.

Chun, one of the most ancient Emperors of China, ordered a great number of hymns to be composed, which were addressed to Heaven, to the Sun, to the Moon, the Stars, &c. The same is the case with almost all the prayers of the Persians, which are contained in the book of Zend. The poetical songs of the ancient authors, from whom we have the theogonies, such as Orpheus, Linus, Hesiod, &c., have reference to Nature and its agents. Sing, says Hesiod to the Muses,—sing the immortal Gods, children of the Earth and of the starred Heaven, Gods, which were born from the womb of Night and nourished by the Ocean; the brilliant Stars, the immense vault of the Heavens, and the Gods which were born of it, the Sea, the Rivers, &c.

The songs of Iopas, in the banquet given by Dido to the Trojans, contain the sublime lessons of the sage Atlas, on the course of the Moon and of the Sun, on the origin of the human race, of the animals, &c. In the pastorals of Virgil, old Silenus sings the chaos and the organization of the World. Orpheus does the same in the Argonautics of Appollonius; the cosmogony of Sanchoniathon or that of the Phoenicians hides under the veil of allegory the great secrets of Nature, which were taught to the neophytes. The philosophers, the successors of the poets, who had preceded them in the career of philosophy, deified all parts of the Universe, and searched for the Gods only in the members of that great God, or in that great All, called the World; so much had the idea of its Di- {p.47} vinity struck all those, who wanted to reason on the causes of our organization and of our destiny.

Pythagoras thought, that the celestial bodies were immortal and divine; that the Sun, the Moon and all the Stars were as many Gods, which contained superabundant heat, which is the principle of life. He placed the substance of the Divinity in the Fire Ether, of which the Sun is the principal centre.

Parmenides imagined a crown of light, which enveloped the World, and he also made of it the substance of the Divinity, of which the Stars participated the Nature. Alcmeon of Croton made the Gods reside in the Sun, the Moon and in the Stars. Anthistenes acknowledges only one Divinity, namely Nature. Plato attributes Divinity to the World, to Heaven, the Stars and to the Earth. Xenocrates admitted eight great Gods, the Heaven of the fixed Stars and the seven Planets. Heraclid of Pontus professed the same doctrine. Theophrastus gives the title of first causes to the Stars and to the celestial signs. Zeno called God also the Ether, the Stars, Time and its parts. Cleanthes admitted the dogma of the Divinity of the Universe and chiefly of the Fire Ether, which envelopes and penetrates the spheres. The entire Divinity, according to this philosopher, was distributed in the Stars, the depositaries of as many portions of that divine Fire. Diogenes, the Babylonian., traces the whole mythology back to Nature or to physiology. Chrysipps recognizes the World as God. He made the divine substance reside in the Fire Ether, in the Sun, the Moo1n, the Stars and finally in Nature and its principal parts.

Anaximander regarded the Stars as so many Gods; Anaximenes gave that name to Ether and Air; Zeno gave it to the World in general and to Heaven in particular.

We shall no further proceed in our researches about the dogmas of the ancient philosophers in. order to prove, that they agree with the most ancient poets, with the theologians, who composed the first theogonies, with the legislators, who {p.48} regulated the religious and political order, and with the artists who erected the first temples and statues of the Gods.

According to these explanations, it would appear clearly demonstrated, that the Universe and its parts, or in other words Nature and its principal agents must not only have been worshipped as Gods, but that this was actually so, from which there is resulting this necessary consequence, namely: "that it is through Nature and her members, and through the performance of the physical causes, that the theological system of all the ancient nations ought to be explained." That we must look to Heaven, to the Sun, the Moon, the Stars and the Elements, if we wish to find the Gods of all nations, and to discover them under the veil, which allegory and mysticism have often thrown over them, be it in order to stimulate our curiosity, or to inspire us with more awe. This worship having been the first, and the most universally employed, is that, which bears entirely on the performance "(jeu)" of the physical causes and on the mechanism of the organization of the World. All that, which shall receive a reasonable construction, considered in that point of view; all that, which in the ancient poems on the Gods and on the sacred legends of the different nations, shall contain an ingenious picture of Nature and her operations, must be considered as appertaining to that religion, which may be called the universal religion. All that, which can be explained without difficulty by the physical and astronomical system, must be considered as part of the fictitious adventures, which allegory has introduced into the songs on Nature. On this basis rests the whole system of explanations, which has been adopted in the present work. We have said, that nothing was worshipped, that nothing was sung but Nature; she alone was portrayed, therefore everything must be explained through her: the conclusion is inevitable.

Before entering upon the explanation of our system and the results, which are its consequence, it will be well to consider in the Universe all the relations, under which the Ancients contemplated it.

It would be a mistaken idea to believe, that they considered the World merely as a machine, without life and intelligence, moved by a blind and necessary force. By far the greater and soundest part of the philosophers have been of the opinion, that the Universe contained in an eminent degree the principle of life and of movement, with which Nature had endowed them, and which was in them only, because of its eternal existence in her, as in an abundant and teeming source, from which the brooks vivified and animated all that had life and intelligence. Man was not yet vain enough to imagine himself more perfect than the World, and to admit in an infinitesimal portion of the great All that, which he himself refused to that great All; and in that transient being, that which he did not grant to the always subsisting Being.

As the World seemed animated by a principle of life, which circulates in all its parts, holding it in eternal activity, it was believed that the Universe lived s man did and the other animals, or rather that these lived only because the Universe, being essentially animated, communicated them for a few instants an infinitesimal portion of its immortal life, which it infused into the coarse and inert matter of sublunary bodies. Was it restored back to itself? man and beast died and the Universe alone, always alive, circulated around the remain {p.50} of their bodies by its perpetual motion, and organized new Beings. The active Fire or the subtle substance, which animated it, by incorporating itself in its immense mass, was the universal soul of it. This is the doctrine, which is embodied in the system of the Chinese, on Yang and Yin, one of which is the celestial matter, moveable and luminous, and the other the terrestrial one, inert and gloomy, of which all bodies are composed. This is the dogma of Pythagoras, contained in those beautiful verses in the sixteenth book of the Æneid, where Auchises reveals to his son the origin of the souls and their fate after death.

"You must know, my son, he said, that Heaven and Earth, the Sea, the luminous globe of the Moon and all the Stars, are moved by a principle of eternal life, which perpetuates their existence; that there is a great intelligent Spirit extended in all the parts of the vast body of the Universe, which, while mixing itself in All, is agitating it by an eternal motion. It is this soul, which is the source of life of man, of the beasts, of the birds and all the monsters living within the bosom of the Ocean. The vital force, which animates them, emanates from that eternal Fire, which shines in the Heavens, and which while it is held captive in the raw matter of the bodies, is only developed as much, as the various mortal organizations permit it, which subdue its power and activity. At the death of each creature, these germs of a particular life, these portions of an universal breath, return to their principle and to their source of life, which circulates in the starred sphere."

Timaeus (Timee) of Locris, and after him Plato and Proclus made a treatise on the universal spirit or soul, called the soul of the World, which under the name of Jupiter undergoes so many metamorphoses in ancient mythology and which is represented under so many forms, which were borrowed from animals and plants in the system of the Egyptians. The Uni- {p.51} verse was therefore considered as a living creature, communicating its life to all Beings engendered through its eternal fecundity.

It was not only reputed to be, as if it were in a state of life, but also as highly intelligent and peopled with a crowd of particular spirits, scattered over entire Nature, the source of which was in its' supreme and immortal spirit.

The World, says Timaeus, includes all; it is animated and gifted with reason; this made so many philosophers say, that the World was a living and intelligent Being.

Cleanthes, who regarded the Universe as God, or as the universal and uncreated cause of all effects, attributed to the World a soul and a spirit, and that the Divinity properly belonged to this intellectual soul. God according to him, established his principal seat or residence in the ethereal substance, in that subtle and luminous element; which circulates so abundantly around the firmament and thence is extending to all the Stars, which thus participate its divine nature.

In the second book of Cicero, On the Nature of the Gods, one of the interlocutors tries to prove by many arguments, that the Universe is necessarily gifted with intelligence and wisdom. One of the principal reasons, which he adduces, is, that it is not very likely, that man who is merely an infinitesimally small portion of the great All should have sense and intelligence, while the whole of an infinitely superior nature, than that of man, should be deprived of it. "One and the same kind of souls," says Marcus Aurelius, "has been distributed to all creatures not endowed with reason, and an intelligent spirit to all reasonable beings. As all terrestrial bodies are formed out of the same clay, and all that lives and all that breathes sees only one light, inhale and emits only' the same air, for the same reason there is only one soul, although it is distributed in an infinity of organized bodies; there is only one mind, although seemingly partaken with {p.52} others. For instance, the light of the Sun is only one, although it is seen extending over walls, mountains and over thousand different objects."

The result of these philosophical principles is, that the matter of particular bodies is embodied in one universal matter, of which the body of the World is composed; that the souls and the particular spirits are embodied in one soul and in one universal spirit, which moves and rules this immense mass of matter, forming the body of the World. Thus the Universe is a vast body, moved by one soul, governed and directed by one spirit, which have the same extent and which are acting within all its parts, or in other words, within all that exists, because nothing exists outside the Universe, which is the congregation of all things. Reciprocally, in the same manner that universal matter is divided in an innumerable quantity of particular bodies under changed forms; so also the life or the universal soul, as well as the mind or the spirit, divide themselves into the bodies and take there a character of life and particular intelligence in the infinite multitude of vases, which receive them; such for instance as the immense body of water, known by the name of Ocean, furnishes through evaporation the various kinds of waters, distributed in lakes and fountains, in rivers and in plants, in all vegetables and animals, where the fluids circulate under forms and with particular qualities, only to re-enter afterwards into the basin of the seas, where they commingle into one single mass of homogeneous quality. This was the idea, which the Ancients had of the soul or of life and of the universal mind, which is the source of life and of the spirits, distributed amongst all particular beings, with whom they communicate by a thousand channels. From this fruitful source sprang those innumerable spirits, which were placed in Heaven, in the Sun, the Moon, and in all the Stars, in the Elements, in the Earth and the Waters and generally in every place, where the universal cause seems to {p.53} have fixed the seat of some particular action and some of the agents of the great work of Nature. Thus was composed the court of the Gods, which inhabit the Olympus; also that of the Divinities of the Air, the Sea and of the Earth; thus the general system of the administration of the World was organized, the care of which was confided to spirits of different orders and different denominations, may they be Gods, or Genii, Angels or celestial Spirits, Heroes, Izeds, Azes, &c.

Henceforth, there was nothing in the World, which was accomplished by physical means, by the force alone of matter and by the laws of motion; everything depended upon the will and from the orders of spiritual agents. The council of the Gods regulated the destiny of mankind and decided of the fate of entire Nature, subordinate to their laws and directed by their wisdom. It is under this form, that theology shows itself with all those nations, which possessed a regular worship and rational theogonies. The savage, up to this very day locates life everywhere he finds movement and intelligence in all those causes, of which he ignores the mechanism, in other words in the whole of Nature; hence the opinion that the Stars are animated and ruled by spirits; this opinion was common with the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Greeks, the Jews and the Christians, because the latter placed angels in every Star, which had the care of conducting the celestial bodies and of regulating the movement of the spheres.

The Persians have also their angel Chur, who directs the course of the Sun; and the Greeks had their Apollo, who had his seat in that luminary. The theological books of the Persians speak of seven great spirits under the name of Amshaspands, which form the court of the God of light, and which are only the Genii of the seven planets. The Jews made of it their seven Archangels, which were always in the presence of the Lord. These are the seven great powers, which Avenar tells us, were set over the World by God, or the seven angels {p.54} charged with the care of conducting the seven planets; they correspond to the seven Usiarks, which according to the doctrine of Trismegistes govern the seven spheres. They have been preserved by the Arabs, the Mahometans and by the Copthes. Thus with the Persians, each planet is superintended by a Genius placed in a fixed Star. The Star Taschter has charge of the planet Tir or Mercury, who has become the Angel Tiriel, and which the Cabalists call the spirit of Mercury; Hafrorang is the Star charged with the planet Behram or Mars, &c. The name of these Stars are to-day the names of as many Angels with the modern Persians.

To the number seven of the planetary spheres, there has been added the sphere of the fixed Stars and the circle of the Earth and thus was produced the system of the nine spheres. The Greeks appropriated thereto nine intelligences, under the name of Muses, who by their songs formed the universal harmony of the World. The Chaldeans and the Jews placed there other intelligences, under the name of Cherubims and Seraphims, &c., to the number of nine choirs, which rejoiced the Eternal with their concerts.

The Hebrews and the Christians admit four angels, charged with keeping watch on the four corners of the World. Astrology had conferred this care to four Planets; the Persians to four great Stars, which are placed at the four cardinal points of Heaven. The Indians have also their Genii, which are set over the various regions of the World. The astrological system had subjected each climate, and each city to the influence of a Star. For this an Angel was substituted, or the spirit which was presumed to preside over that Star and to be its soul. Thus the sacred books of the Jews admit a tutelar Angel of Persia, as a tutelar Angel of the Jews.

The number twelve, or that of the signs, gave the origin to the idea of the twelve great guardian Angels of the World, of {p.55} which Hyde has preserved the names. Each of the divisions of the time into twelve months had its Angel, as well as the Elements. There are also Angels, who are set over the thirty days of each month. All things of this World, according to the Persians, are administered by Angels, and this doctrine is traced with them up to the highest antiquity. The Basilidians had their 360 Angels, who were set over 360 Heavens, which they had imagined. These are the 360 Aeons of the Gnostics.

The administration of the Universe was divided between this multitude of spirits, which were either Angels or Izeds, Gods or Heroes, Genii or Gines, &c., each one of them had charge of a certain department, or of a particular function; the cold, the heat, the rain, the drought, the production of the fruits of the earth, the increase of the herds, the arts, the agricultural operations, &c., all were under the superintendence of an Angel.

Bad, with the Persians, is the name of an Angel, who is set over the winds. Mordad, is the Angel of death. Aniran is set over the nuptials. Fervardin is the name of the Angel of air and of water. Curdat is called the Angel of the Earth and its fruits. This theology was transferred to the Christians. Origen speaks of the Angel of vocation of the Gentiles, of the Angel of grace. Tertullian mentions the Angel of prayer, the Angel of baptism, the Angel of marriage, the Angel presiding over the formation of the foetus. Chrysostom and Basil celebrate the Angel of peace. It will be seen that the Fathers of the Church have thus copied the hierarchical system of the Persians and Chaldeans.

In the theology of the Greeks, it was supposed, that the Gods had divided amongst them the different parts of the Universe, the different arts, the various works. Jupiter presided in Heaven, Neptune over the Water, Pluto over the subterranean world, Vulcan over the Fire, Diana over the chase, {p.56} Ceres over the Earth and the crops, Bacchus over the vintage, Minerva over the arts and architecture. The mountains had their Oreads, the fountains their Naiads the forests their Driads and Hamadriads. It is the same dogma under other names, and Origen of the Christians shares the same opinion, when he says: "I have no hesitation whatsoever in saying, that there are celestial virtues, who have the government of this World; one presides over the earth, another over the plants; such a one over rivers and fountains; such another over the rain, over the winds." Astrology placed a part of these powers in the Stars; thus the Hyads were set over the rain, Orion over the storms, Sirius over the hot season (dog days) the Ram over the flocks, &c. The system of the Angels and of the Gods, amongst which are distributed the various parts of the World and the different operations of the great work of Nature, is nothing else but the ancient astrological system, in which the Stars exercised the same functions, which their Angels and their Genii have since filled.

Proclus makes a Pleiade preside over each sphere; Celeno is set over the sphere of Saturn, Stenope over that of Jupiter, &c. In the Apocalypse these same Pleiades are called the seven Angels, which smite the World with the seven last plagues.

The natives of the isle of Thule worshipped celestial, Trial and terrestrial Genii; they also placed some in the water, in the rivers and fountains.

The Sindovistas of Japan worship Divinities distributed in the Stars, and spirits, which are set over the elements, over the plants, over the animals, over the various events of life.

They have their Udsigami, which are the tutelar Divinities of a province, of a city, of a village, &c.

The Chinese worship the Genii, which are placed in the Sun and in the Moon, in the Planets, in the Elements, and those which preside over the Sea and the Rivers, over the Fountains, woods and Mountains, corresponding precisely to the {p.57} Naiads, the Dryads and other Nymphs of the theogony of the Greeks. All those Genii, according to the learned, are the emanation of the great All, or in other words of Heaven and of the universal soul, which moves it.

The Chen of the Chinese of the sect of Tao, are an administration of spirits or intelligences, which are ranged in different classes and charged with the different functions of Nature. Some are inspectors of the Sun, others of the Moon, those of the Stars, those of the Winds, others of the Weather, of the Seasons, of the Days, of the Nights, of the Hours.

The Siamese like the Persians, acknowledge Angels which are set over the four corners of the World; they place several classes of Angels over the seven Heavens; the stars, the winds, the rain, the earth, the mountains, the cities are under the inspection of Angels or Intelligences. They make a distinction between males and females; thus the guardian Angel of the Earth is a female.

In consequence of the fundamental dogma, which places God in the universal soul of the World, says Dow, a soul pervading all parts of Nature, the East Indians worship the Elements and all the great parts of the body of the Universe, as they believe that they contain a portion of the Divinity. This is the cause, which has originated amongst the people, the worship of subaltern Divinities; because the Indians in their vedam, make the Divinity or the universal soul pervade all parts of matter. Thus they admit, besides their trinity or treble power, a multitude of Intermediate Divinities, Angels, Genii, Patriarchs, &c. They worship Vayu, the God of the wind; this is the Æolus of the Greeks; Agni the God of the Fire; Varug the God of the Orean; Sasanko, the God of the Moon; Prajapati, the God of Nations; Cubera is set over wealth, &c.

In the religious system of the East Indians, the Sun the Moon and the Stars are so many Devatas or Genii. The World {p.58} has seven degrees, each of which is surrounded by its Sea and by its Genius; the perfection of each Genius is graduated like that of stories or degrees. This is the system of the ancient Chaldeans, about the great Sea or firmament, and about the various Heavens, peopled by Angels of a different nature and composing a graduated hierarchy.

The God Indra, who as the Indians believe, is set over the air and the wind, is presiding also over the inferior Heaven and over the subaltern Divinities, the number of which amounts to three hundred and thirty-two millions; these subaltern Gods are subdivided into different classes. The superior Heaven has also its Divinities; Adytya is conducting the Sun; Nishagara the Moon, &c.

The Chingaleese give lieutenants to the Divinity: all the island of Ceylon is filled with tutelar idols of cities and provinces. The prayers of these islanders are not addressed directly to the supreme Being, but to his lieutenants and to the inferior Gods, as the depositaries of a portion of his power.

The Molucchians have their Nitos, which are under the command of a superior chief, called Lanthila. Each city, town and hamlet has its Nitos, or its tutelar Divinity; they give to the Genius of the Air the name of Lanitho.

At the Philippine islands, the worship of the Sun, the Moon and the Stars is accompanied with that of subaltern spirits, some of which are superintending the seeds, others the fisheries, these the cities and those the mountains, &c.

The natives of the island of Formosa, who looked upon the Sun and the Moon as two superior Divinities, believed that the Stars were Demi Gods or inferior Divinities. The Parsees subordinate to the supreme God seven ministers, under which are ranged twenty-six others, amongst which the government of the World is divided. They pray to them to intercede in their behalf for their wants, as being the mediators between man and the supreme God.

{p.59} The Sabeans placed Angels, which they called mediators between them and the supreme God, whom they qualified the Lord of Lords.

The islanders of the isle of Madagascar admit, besides the sovereign God, Spirits, the duty of which is that of moving and governing the celestial spheres, others, which have the department of the air, of the meteors, some that of the waters: while others are watching over mankind.

The natives of Loango have a great many idols for Divinities, who divide amongst themselves the empire of the World. Amongst those Gods or Genii there are some, which preside over the winds, others over the lightning, others over the crops; some have command over the fishes of the sea and of the rivers; others over the forests, &c.

The nations of Celtica admitted Spirits, which the first Being had spread in all parts of matter in order to animate and to conduct it. They added Genii to the worship of the different parts of Nature and of the Elements, which were presumed to reside there and to conduct it. They supposed, says Peloutier, that each part of the visible World was united with an invisible Spirit, which was the soul of it. The same opinion was held by the Scandinavians. "According to the belief of those people," says Mallet, "it would appear, that from the supreme Deity, which is the animated and spiritual World, an infinity of subaltern Divinities and of Genii had emanated, which had for their seat and temple each part of the World: there resided not only Spirits, but they also directed its operations. Each Element had its Spirit or its proper Divinity. There were some of it in the Earth, others in the Water, in the Fire, in the Air, in the Sun, in the Moon and in the Stars. The trees, the forests, the rivers, the mountains, the rocks, the winds, the lightning, the storm, contained them also, and deserved on this account religious worship." The Slovenians had Kupalu, who was set over the produc- {p.60} tions of the Earth; and Bog, the God of Water. Lado or Lada presided over love.

The Burkans of the Kalmucks, reside in the World, which they adopt, and in the Planets; others occupy the celestial regions. Sakji-Muni resides on Earth; Erlik-Kan in Hell where he reigns over the souls.

The Kalmucks are convinced that the Air is filled with Genii; they give to these serial Spirits the name of Tengri; some are beneficent and others are malevolent.

The natives of Tibet have their Lahes, which are Genii, that emanated from the divine substance.

In America, the savages from the island of St. Domingo recognized under a sovereign God, other Divinities by the name of Zemes, to which each hut idols were consecrated. The Mexicans, the Virginians supposed also, that the supreme God had left the Government of the World, to a class of subaltern Gods. It is with this invisible World or this compound of Spirits, which were hidden in every part of Nature, that the priests had established a commerce, which has caused all the misfortunes and the shame of mankind. According to the foregoing enumeration of the religious opinions of the different nations of the World it appears demonstrated, that the Universe and its parts have been worshipped, not only as causes, but also as living, animated and intelligent causes, and that this dogma is not traced to one or two nations only, but that it is a dogma, which is universally spread over the whole Earth. It has been equally shown, what has been the source of this opinion: that it originated from the dogma of an only and universal soul, or of a soul of the World, eminently intelligent, disseminated over all the points of matter, where Nature exercises as cause some important function, or produces some regular effect, be it eternal or constantly reproduced. The single great cause, or the God-Universe was therefore decomposed into a number of partial causes, which were subordinate to its unity, {p.61} and which were considered as so many living and spiritual causes of the nature of the supreme cause, of which they are either parts or emanations. The Universe was therefore an only God, composed of the assemblage of a multitude of Gods, which concurred as partial causes to the action of the whole, which it exercised itself in itself and on itself. Thus arose this great administration, one in its wisdom and in its primitive force, but infinitely multiplied in its secondary agents, called. Gods, Angels, Genii, &c., which, it was believed, could be treated with, as people treated the ministers and agents of human administrations.

It is here that worship commences; because we address our wishes and prayers only to Beings, which are capable of hearing and executing our wishes. Thus said Agamemnon in Homer, while addressing the Sun. Oh Sun! which sees all and hears all. This is not here a mere poetical figure or metaphor; it is a dogma constantly received, and the first philosopher, who dared to proclaim, that the Sun was nothing but a mass of fire, was regarded as an impious man. It will be observed, how prejudicial must have been such opinions to the progress of natural philosophy, when all the phenomena of Nature could be explained through the will of spiritual causes, which resided in the place, where the actions of the cause was manifested. But while this threw great obstacles in the way of the study of natural philosophy, that of Poetry found there great resources for fiction. All was animated in it, as all seemed to be so in Nature.

Such was the language of poetry since the highest antiquity; and in conformity with these data, we shall proceed with the {p.62} explanation of mythology and of religious poems, of which it contains the remains. As the poets were the first theologians, so we shall analyse also according to the same method all the traditions and sacred legends, under whatsoever name that the agents of Nature shall find themselves disguised in the religious allegories, be it that Spirits were supposed united to visible bodies, which they animated, or that they had been separated by abstraction, and that a World of Spirits had been created, which were placed outside the visible World, but the outlines of which had always been sketched in accordance with it and upon its divisions.

OF THE GREAT DIVISIONS OF NATURE INTO ACTIVE AND PASSIVE CAUSES,
AND INTO PRINCIPLES OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS!

The thus animated and spiritual Universe, or the great cause, being subdivided into a number of partial and likewise intelligent causes, was also divided into two great masses or parts, one called the active, and the other the passive cause, or the male and female part, which composed the great Androgynous, the two sexes of which were presumed to unite, in order to produce everything, in other words, the World acting in itself and upon itself. Here we have one of the great mysteries of ancient theology. Heaven contained the first part; the Earth and Elements up to the Moon comprised the second.

Two things have always struck mankind in the Universe and in the forms of the bodies which it contains: namely that, which seems to remain there always, and that which is merely transient; the causes, the effects, the places which are assigned them, otherwise, the places where one part acts, and those where the other part reproduces itself. Heaven and Earth represent the image of this remarkable contrast of the eternal Being and of the transient Being. In the Heavens, nothing seems to be born, nothing to grow, to get old and to die, when we rise above the sphere of the Moon. The latter alone seems to show some trace of alteration, destruction and reproduction of forms in the changes of her phases, when at the same time on the other hand, she offers an image of perpetuity in her proper substance, in her motion, and in the periodical and invariable succession of these same phases. She is like the most elevated limit of the sphere of beings, subject {p.64} to alteration. Above her everything moves in constant and regular order, and is preserving eternal forms. All celestial bodies show themselves perpetually the same, in their size, in their colours, in their same diameters, in their respective distances, if we except the planets and other movable stars: their number never grows nor diminishes. Uranus neither begets children, nor does he lose any, All is with him, eternal and immutable, at least to us, all seems to be so.

Such is not the case with the Earth. If on one side she shares the eternity of Heaven in her mass, in her force and her own qualities, on the other hand, she carries in her bosom and on her surface an innumerable number of bodies, which are extracted from her substance and from that of the elements surrounding her. These have only a momentary existence and pass successively through all the forms in the various organizations, which terrestrial matter experiences: they have scarcely emerged from her bosom, when they subside into it immediately. It is to this particular species of matter, which is successively organized and decomposed, that man has applied the idea of being transient and of effect, whilst he attributed the prerogative of causes to the Being, which is perpetually existing, whether in Heaven and in the Stars, or on Earth with her elements, her rivers and mountains.

Here are then two great divisions, which must have been conspicuous in the Universe, and which separate the existing bodies throughout Nature by very distinct differences. On the surface of the Earth, matter is seen undergoing a thousand different forms, according to the different contextures of the germs, which she contains, and the various configurations of the moulds which receive them, and where they are developed. Here she creeps under the forms of a flexible shrub; there she elevates herself majestically in that of a robust oak; elsewhere she is bristling with thorns, blooming in roses, variegated in flowers, ripening in fruits, stretching herself in roots, or is {p.65} rounding in a bushy mass, and covers with its dense shade the green turf, in which she nourishes the cattle, which is also herself, put into action in a more perfect organization, and moved by the fire, that principle, which gives life to animated bodies. In this new state she has again her germs, her development, her growth, her perfection or maturity; her youth, her age, her death, leaving rubbish behind, which is destined to recompose new bodies. Under this animated form she may be seen alike creeping in insect and reptile, elevating herself in the bold eagle, spiking herself with the darts of the porcupine, covering herself with down, with hair, with plumage of various colours, fastening herself to rocks by the roots of the polypus, crawling as a turtle, skipping as a stag, or a nimble deer, or crushing the earth with its ponderous mass, as in the elephant, roaring as a lion, bellowing as a bull, singing under the form of a bird, finally articulating sounds under that of man, combining ideas, knowing and imitating herself, creating the arts and reasoning over all his operations, and over those of Nature. This is the known boundary of perfection of organized matter on the surface of the Earth.

Next to man are those extremes, which form the greatest contrast with animated matter in those bodies, which are organized in the midst of water, and which live in shells. Here the fire of intellect, sense and life are almost entirely extinct, and a light shade separates there the animated being from that, which only vegetates. Nature takes there still more variegated forms, than on land: the masses there are enormous and the figures still more monstrous; but the matter, which is animated by the fire Ether is always there distinguishable. The reptile creeps here in the slime, while the fish is cutting the body of the water, aided by fins, over the tortuous eel, developing its fold towards the bottom of the fluid. The enormous whale shows here a mass of living matter, which has no equal amongst the dwellers on the Earth, and in the Air, al- {p.66} though each of the three elements may have animals, which may offer very often parallels. A common character is distinguishable in all; it is the instinct of reproduction, which brings them together to that effect, and another not so gentle an instinct, which inclines them, to pursue each other for food, and. which also is coherent with the want of perpetuating the transformation of the same matter under a thousand forms, and to make it revive by turns in the various elements, which serve as habitations to organized bodies. This is the Protheus of Homer according to some allegorists.

Nothing of the kind is offered for the contemplation of man beyond the elementary sphere, which is believed to extend to the last strata of the atmosphere, and even up to the orbit of the Moon. There the bodies take another character; that of constancy and perpetuity, which distinguishes them essentially from the effect. The Earth conceals therefore, in her fruitful womb the cause or germs of beings, which she brings forth, but she is not the sole cause. The rains, which fertilize her, seem to come from Heaven or from the abode of the clouds, which the eye locates there. The heat comes from the Sun; and the vicissitudes of the seasons are connected with the movements of the luminaries, which seem to bring them back. Heaven was therefore as much cause as the Earth, but an active cause, producing all the changes, without itself experiencing any, and producing them in another, unlike itself.

Ocellus of Lucania was therefore right, when he says: "that the existence of generation and cause of generation in the Universe had been observed, and that generation was placed, where there was a change and dislocation of the parts, and the cause, where there was stability of Nature." "As the World," adds this philosopher, "is ungenerated and indestructible, that it has no beginning, and that it shall have no end; it is therefore necessary, that the principle, which {p.67} operates the generation in another, unlike itself, and the one, which operates in itself, had existed.

The principle, which operates in another unlike itself, is all that, which is above the Moon, and principally the Sun, which, by its going and returning, constantly changes the air, as far as cold and heat are concerned, from which result the changes on Earth, and of everything, which pertains to the Earth. The zodiac, in which the Sun moves is still another cause, which concurs to the generation: in one word, the composition of the World includes the active and passive cause; the one, which generates outside of it, and the other, which begets in it. The first is the World above the Moon; the second is the sublunary World, of these two parties: one divine and always constant, the other mortal and always changing, is composed what is called the World, of which one of the principles is always moving and governing, and the other is always moved and governed."

This is a summary of ancient philosophy, which has passed in the theologies and cosmogonies of the different nations.

This distinction of the two-fold manner, in which the great cause acts in the generation of beings, which are produced by her and within her, must have originated comparisons with the generations here below, where two causes concur in the formation of the animal, the one actively, the other passively; one as male the other as female, one as the father, the other as the mother. The Earth must have been regarded as the womb of Nature; as the receptacle of the germs, and as the nurse of the beings, which are produced in her bosom; Heaven, as the principle of the seed and of fecundity. They must have stood towards each other in the relation of male and female, or rather as husband and wife, and their conjunction must have appeared like the image of marriage, wherefrom all beings take their origin. These comparisons have actually been made. Heaven, says Plutarch, appeared to {p.68} mankind, as if it was exercising the functions of father, and the Earth that of mother. "Heaven was the father, because it poured out its seed in the shape of rain into the womb of the Earth; the Earth, while receiving it, became fruitful and I brought forth, seemed to be the mother." Love presided, according to Hesiod, at the clearing away of the chaos. This is then the chaste marriage of Nature with herself, which Virgil has sung in those beautiful verses of the second book of the Georgics. "The Earth," says the poet, "expands in spring, in order to ask of Heaven the germ of fecundity. Ether, that mighty God, descends then in order to join his wife, which is gladdened by his presence. At the moment, when he pours out his seed in the form of rain, by which she is moistened, the union of both their immense bodies gives life and nourishment to all beings." It is also in spring and on the 25th of March, when the sacred fictions of the Christians suppose, that the Eternal communicates with their Virgin-Goddess, in order to redeem the calamities of Nature and to regenerate the Universe.

Columella in his treatise On Agriculture, has also sung the courtship of Nature, or the marriage of Heaven and Earth, which is consummated every year in spring. He portrays the eternal Spirit, source of the life or of the soul, which animates the World, as overcome with Love and fired with all the passion of Venus, which unites with Nature or with itself, because she forms a part of it, and which fills her own bosom with new productions. It is the Union of the Universe with itself, or that mutual action of its two sexes, which he calls the great secrets of Nature, her sacred orgies, her mysteries, which have been portrayed by the ancient Initiations with innumerable emblems. From this are derived the Ithyphallic feasts and the consecration of Phallus and Cteis, or the sexual organs of man and woman in the ancient sanctuaries.

Such is also the origin of the worship of Lingam with the {p.69} East Indians, which is nothing else but the union of the organs of generation of the two sexes, which those nations kept exposed in the temples of Nature, because of their being the always subsisting emblem of universal fecundity. The East Indians hold this symbol in the greatest veneration, and its worship is traced with them up to the highest antiquity. Under this form, they worship their great God Isuren, the same as the Grecian Bacchus, in honour of whom that people raised the Phallus.

The candlestick of seven branches, designed to represent the planetary system, through which the great work of sublunary generations is consummated, is placed before the Lingam, and the Brahmins light it, when they are paying homage to that emblem of the double force of Nature.

It is the duty of the Gurus ("Gourous"), to adorn the Lingam with flowers, almost exactly as the Greeks adorned the Phallus. The Taly, which the Brahma consecrates, and which the new husband hangs on the neck of his wife, to be worn by her all her lifetime, is frequently a Lingam, or the emblem of the union of the two sexes.

The Egyptians had also consecrated the Phallus in the mysteries of Isis and Osiris. According to Kircher, the Phallus was even found to be honoured in America. If this should be the case, then this worship has had the same universality as that of Nature, or of that Being, which unites in itself that double power. We learn from Diodorus, that the Egyptians were not the only nation which had consecrated that emblem; that the Assyrians, the Persians and the Greeks had it as well as the Romans, and in fact the whole of Italy.

Everywhere it was held sacred as an image of the organs of generation of all animated beings, according to Diodorus, or as a symbol designed to represent the natural and spermatic force of the Stars, according to Ptolemy.

{p.70} The Christian doctors, quite as ignorant as they were wicked, and always at work to decry and to pervert the theological ideas, ceremonies, statues and sacred fables of the ancients, were therefore wrong to inveigh against the feasts and the images, which had the worship of universal fecundity for objects. Those images and symbolical expressions of the two great forces of the God-Universe, were as simple as they were ingenious; they had been imagined in those ages, when the organs of generation and their union had not yet been blemished by the ridiculous prejudice of mysticism, or dishonoured by the abuse of lewdness. The operations of Nature and of her agents were held as sacred as herself: our religious errors and vices have only profaned her.

The double sex of Nature, or its distinction into active and passive cause, was also represented with the Egyptians by an androgynal Divinity, or by the God Cneph, which vomits from its mouth the symbolical egg, designed to represent the World. The Brahmins of India expressed the same cosmogonical idea by a statue, which was imitative of the World and which represented the two sexes: The male bore the image of the Sun, as being the centre of the active principle; the female represented that of the Moon, which fixes the beginning and the first lying in of passive Nature, as we have seen in the passage of Ocellus of Lucania.

From the reciprocal union of the two sexes of the World or of Nature, as universal cause, have originated the fictions, which are found at the head of all theogonies. Uranus married Ghea, or Heaven had the Earth for wife. These are the two physical beings, of which Sanchoniathon, the author of the theogony of the Phoenicians, speaks, when he says that Uranus and Ghea were two spouses, which gave their names, the one to Heaven, the other to Earth, from which marriage the God Time or Saturn was born. The author of the theogony of the Cretans, of the Atlantes, Hesiod, Apollodorus, Proclus, {p.71} and all those, who wrote the genealogy of the' Gods or causes, place Heaven and Earth at the head of it. These are the two great causes, from which all things have emanated. The name of king and queen, given to them by certain theogonies, belonging to the allegorical style of antiquity, and ought not to be an obstacle to recognize there the two first causes of Nature. We shall also discover in their marriage the union of the active and passive causes, which is one of those cosmogonical ideas, which all religions have endeavoured to portray. We shall therefore take off Uranus and Ghea of the number of the first princes, which have reigned over the Universe, and the epoch of their reigns shall be stricken from the chronological records. The same will be the case with Prince Saturn and Prince Jupiter, with Prince Helios or the Sun and with the Princess Selena or the Moon, &c. The fate of the fathers shall decide that of their children. and nephews, in other words, that the sub-divisions of the two primary great causes shall not be of a different nature, than the causes themselves, of which they are a part.

To this first division of the Universe into active and passive cause, a second one is added, which is that of the principles, one of which is the principle of Light and of goodness, and the other the principle of Darkness and of evil. This dogma forms the basis of all theogonies, as has been well remarked by Plutarch. "We must not be under the impression," says that philosopher, "that the principles of the Universe are inanimate bodies, as Democritus and Epicurus have imagined, nor that unqualified matter is organized and ordained by one single mind or Providence, mistress of all things, as the Stoics have said; because it is impossible, that a single being—be it good or bad, should be the cause of all, as God cannot be the cause of any evil."

"The harmony of this World is a combination of contraries, like the chords of a lyre or the string of a bow, which bend {p.72} and unbend. Never, as the poet Euripides said, is the good separated from the evil: there must be a mixture of the one and the other."

"This opinion of the two principles," continues Plutarch, is "of the highest antiquity; it has passed from the theologians and the legislators, to the poets and philosophers. The author is unknown, but the opinion itself is proved by the traditions of the human family; it is consecrated by the mysteries and the sacrifices of the Greeks and of the Barbarians. The Dogma of the principles, which are opposed to each other in Nature, and which by their contrarieties produce a mixture of good and of evil, is there recognized. It cannot therefore be said, that there is a sole dispenser, who is drawing off the events, like liquor from two casks, in order to mix them together, and to give us that mixture to drink; because Nature produces nothing here below, which might be without that mixture. But there are two contrary causes, which must be acknowledged, two antagonistic powers, of which one carries to the right, the other to the left, and thus govern our life and all this sublunary World, which for that very reason is subject to so many changes and irregularities of our species, because nothing can exist without a cause; and if Good cannot be the cause of Evil, it is therefore absolutely necessary, that there is a cause for Evil, as well as there is one for Good."

It should seem from this last phrase of Plutarch, that the real origin of the dogma of the two principles, proceeds from the difficulty, under which mankind has ever laboured, to explain by one and the same cause, the good and the evil of Nature, and to make virtue and crime, light and darkness, issue from one common source. Two such antagonistic effects appeared to them to require two causes equally antagonistic in their nature and in their action. "This dogma," adds Plutarch, "has been generally received by most nations, and chiefly {p.73} by those, which were most celebrated for their wisdom. They have all acknowledged two Gods, of different occupations, if I may be allowed this expression, one of which was the author of good, and the other of the evil, which is found in the World. They gave to the first the title of God the most high, and to the other that of Demon."

Indeed, we see in the Cosmogony or the Genesis of the Hebrews two principles, one called God, who does good, and who after the termination of each of his works exclaims: that he saw, what he had made, was good; and after him there comes another principle, called Demon, or Devil, and Satan, who destroys the good, which the first has made, and "who introduces the evil, death and sin into the Universe." This cosmogony, as we shall see elsewhere, was copied from the ancient cosmogony of the Persians, and its dogmas were copied from the books of Zoroaster, who also admits two principles, according to Plutarch, one called Ormuzd and the other Ahriman. "The Persians said of the first, that he was of the nature of Light, and of the other, that he was of that of Darkness. The Egyptians called the first, Osiris, and the second Typhon, who was the eternal enemy of the first."

All the sacred books of the Persians and Egyptians contain the marvellous and allegorical story of the various battles, which were given by Ahriman and his Angels to Ormuzd, and which were given by Typhon to Osiris. These fables have been repeated by the Greeks in the war of the Titans and Giants with feet, in the shape of serpents, against Jupiter or against the principle of Godless and of Light; because in their theology, as it is well observed by Plutarch, Jupiter corresponded to the Ormuzd of the Persians and to the Osiris of the Egyptians.

To the examples quoted by Plutarch, which are taken from the theogony of the Persians, Egyptians, Grecians and the Chaldeans, I shall add some others, which shall corroborate {p.74} what he asserts, and which shall finally prove, that this dogma was universally spread all over the World, and that it belongs to all theologies.

The natives of the Kingdom of Pegu admit two principles, one the author of Good and the other of Evil. They attempt chiefly to lower the latter. Thus it happens, that the natives of the island of Java, who acknowledge a supreme ruler, of the Universe, address also their oblations and their prayers to the evil spirit, in order that he might not do them any harm. The same is the case with the Molucchians and with all the savages of the Philippine islands. The natives of the island of Formosa have their good God, Ishy, and their devils, Chouy; they offer sacrifices to the evil Genius and rarely to the good one. The Negroes of the Gold Coast admit also two Gods, one of which is good and the other bad; one is white, and the other is black and wicked. They trouble themselves very little with the first one, whom they call the good man, but they fear principally the second one, to whom the Portuguese have given the name of Demon; it is him, whom they try to propitiate.

The Hottentots call the good principle, the Captain above, and the bad principle, the Captain below. The Ancients also thought, that the source of all evil was in the gloomy matter of the Earth. The Giants and Typhon were children of the Earth. The Hottentots say, that it is better to let the good principle alone; that it is not necessary to pray to it, that it will always do good; but that it is necessary to address prayers to the bad one, that he may not do any mischief. They call their bad Divinity Tuquoa, and they represent it as of small size, crooked and of bad temper, enemy of the Hottentots, and they say that it is the source of all the evils, which afflict the World, but beyond that its power ceases.

The natives of Madagascar acknowledge also the two principles; they give to the bad one, the attributes of the serpent, {p.75} which the cosmogonies of the Persians, Egyptians, the Jews and the Greeks also attributed to it; they call the good principle Jadhar, or the great almighty God; and the bad one Angat. To the first one they erect no temples, neither do they address to him their prayers, because he is good, just as if fear alone, more than gratitude had made the Gods. Thus the Mingrelians honour above all that of their idols, which is in repute of being the most cruel.

The inhabitants of the island of Tenerife acknowledge a supreme God, to whom they give the name of Achguaya-Xerac, which means the greatest, the most sublime, the preserver of all things. They also believe in a bad Genius, which they call Guayotta.

The Scandinavians have their God Locke, who makes war to the Gods and chiefly to Thor; he slanders the Gods, says the Edda, and is the great artificer of frauds. He has a wicked spirit; of him are born three monsters, the wolf Feuris, the serpent Midgard, and Hela or Death. He, like Typhon produces the Earthquakes.

The Tehuvaches and the Morduans acknowledge a supreme Being, from whom mankind derives all the good, enjoys. They admit also malevolent Genii, whose occupation is to persecute mankind.

The Tartars of Katzchinzi address their prayers to a beneficent God, while turning their faces towards the East, or towards the source of light; but they stand more in fear of a malevolent Divinity, which they worship in order, that it might not do them any harm. They consecrated to it in Spring a black stallion; they called this malevolent Divinity Touis. The Ostiaks and the Voguls call it Kul, the Samoyedes, Sjudibe; the Motores, Huala; the Kargassians Sedkyr.

The natives of Tibet also admit malevolent Genii, which they place above the air. The religion of the Bonzes supposes likewise two principles.

{p.76} The Siamese sacrifice to a principle of evil, which they consider as the author of all the evil, which happens to mankind, and it is chiefly in their afflictions that they apply to it for relief.

The East Indians have their Ganga and their Gurnatha, which are Genii, that have the power to do evil, and which they try to appease by prayers, sacrifices and processions. The inhabitants of Tolgoni in India, admit two principles, which govern the Universe; a good one, which is the Light; and the other bad, which is Darkness. The ancient Assyrians shared the opinion of the Persians on the two principles, and they worshipped, says Augustine, two Gods. one good and the other bad, as it is easy to be convinced of it by their books. The Chaldeans had their good and bad Stars, to which they joined Spirits, which shared their nature, whether good or bad.

We find again also in the new World this same dogma, which had been generally received by the old one, on the distinction of the two principles, and of tile beneficent and malevolent Genii.

The Peruvians worshipped Pacha-Camac, the God, author of Good, to whom they opposed Cupai the Genius author of Evil.

The Caraibes admitted two kinds of Spirits; some of which were good, which had their abode in Heaven, and of which every one of us has his own, which is his guide on Earth: these are our Guardian Angels; others were malevolent Spirits, which hover in the air and take pleasure to annoy the mortals.

The natives of Terra firma thought that there was a God in Heaven, that this God was the Sun. They admitted besides, a bad principle, the author of all the evils, which we suffer; and and in order to propitiate his good will, they offer him flowers, fruit, corn and perfumes. These were the Gods, of which the sings had some reason to say, that they themselves were their {p.77} representatives and images on Earth. The more they are feared, the more they are flattered, the more homage is showered upon them.

This is the reason, why the Gods have always been treated like Kings and like men of influence, of whom we either are in fear or expect something. All the prayers and all the wishes, which the Christians address to their God and to their Saints are always selfish. Religion is merely a commerce of barter. That Tenebrous Being, which is so venerated by the Savages, appears to them very often, as their priests say, who are at the same time legislators, physicians and ministers of war; because the priests everywhere have taken possession of all the branches of power, which force or imposture exercise over the credulous mortals.

The Tabuyes in America, situated in about the same latitude as the Madegassians in Africa, have also nearly the same opinion with regard to the two principles.

The natives of Brazil acknowledge a bad Genius, which they call Aguyan; they have their conjurers, who pretend to stand in connection with this Spirit.

The Aborigines of Louisiana admitted two principles, one is the cause of Good and the other of Evil; the latter according to their notions, governs the whole World.

Those of Florida worshipped the Sun, the Moon and the Stars, and acknowledged also a Genius of evil by the name of Toia, which they try to conciliate, by the celebration of feasts in his honour.

The Canadians and the Savages in the neighbourhood of Hudson's Bay, worship the Sun, the Moon and the Thunder. The Divinities to which they address most frequently their wishes, are the malevolent Spirits, of which they stand greatly in fear, as they believe them to be all powerful to do evil.

The Esquimaux have a God; which is exclusively good, called Ukuma, and another called Ouikam, which is the author {p.78} of all their evils. He is the originator of the storms, which upset their boats and causes their labour to be of no account; because it is always a Genius, who does everywhere the good or the evil, which befall mankind.

The savages, who have their location near Davis' Straits admit certain good and bad Genii, and that is nearly all, of which their religion consists.

It would be unnecessary to continue any further the enumeration of the various nations, ancient as well as modern in the two hemispheres, which admitted the distinction of the two principles, that of a God and Genii, which were the sources of Goodness and of Light, and that of a God and Genii, which were the sources of Evil and of Darkness. The reason why this opinion has been so universally extended was, because all those, who have reasoned upon the causes of the opposite effects in Nature, have never been able to reconcile their explanations with the existence of one sole cause. As there were good and bad men, it was believed that there might also exist good and bad Gods; some of which were the dispensers of good and others the authors of the evils, to which mankind is heir, because as has already been mentioned, man has always represented the Gods, as he is himself, and the court of the immortals was the image of that of Kings and of all those, who govern tyrannically.

The picture, which we have drawn, is a complete proof of the assertion of Plutarch, that the dogma of the two principles had been generally received by all nations, that it runs back to the highest antiquity, and that it is to be found with the Barbarians as well as with the Greeks. This philosopher adds, that it had received its largest development with those nations, which were most renowned for their wisdom. We shall see indeed, that it forms the principal basis of the theology of the Egyptians and Persians, two nations, which have greatly influenced the religious opinions of others, and chiefly {p.79} those of the Jews and the Christians, which have the same system of the two principles, or very nearly so. They have also their Devil and their bad Angels, constantly at war with God, the author of all goodness. The Devil is the counsellor of crime with them, and bears the name of tempter of mankind. This truth will be better understood by the explanation, which we shall give of the first two chapters of Genesis and of the Apocalypse of John. The Devil, or the principle of evil under the form of serpent and dragon, plays there a most conspicuous figure, and counteracts the good, which the good God wants to do for man. In this sense we may say with Plutarch, that the dogma of the two principles had been consecrated by mysteries and sacrifices with all nations, which have had an organized religious system.

The two principles were not left alone or isolate. Each of them had their family Genii, their Angels, their Izets, their Dews, &c. Under the standards of each of them as chieftains, there were ranged numbers of Spirits or Intelligences, which had affinity with their nature, in other words, with that of Goodness and of Light, or with that of Evil and Darkness; because Light had always been regarded as pertaining to the essence of the principle of goodness, and as the primary beneficent Divinity, of which the Sun was the principal agent. To it we owe the enjoyment of the brilliant spectacle of the Universe, of which we are deprived by darkness, which plunges Nature into a species of nonentity.

In the midst of the shades of an intensely dark night, when Heaven is charged with thick and heavy clouds, when all the bodies have disappeared before our eyes, when we seem to live alone with ourselves and with the black shades surrounding us, what is then the measure of our existence? How little does it differ from complete nonentity, especially when not surrounded in memory and thought with the image of the objects, which broad daylight has shown us? All is dead for us, {p.80} and in some respect, we ourselves are dead to Nature. Who can give us life again and draw our soul from that mortal lethargy, which chains its activity to the shades of chaos? A single ray of light can restore us to ourselves and to entire Nature, which seems as if it had withdrawn from us. Here is the principle of our veritable existence, without which our life would be only a sensation of continued weariness. It is the want of light in its creative energy, which has been felt by all men, who have not seen anything more dreadful, than its absence. Here is then the first Divinity, the fiery splendour of which, spouting out from the midst of Chaos, caused man and the whole Universe to spring into essence according to the principles of the theology of Orpheus and Moses. This is that God Bel of the Chaldeans, the Ormuzd of the Persians, whom they invoke as the source of all the blessings of Nature, whilst the origin of all the evil is placed in darkness and in Ahriman its Chief. They hold therefore Light in great veneration and stand in dread of Darkness. Light is the life 6f the Universe, the friend of man and his most agreeable companion; with it he never feels lonesome; he looks for it as soon as missed, unless in order to rest his tired limbs, he should desire to withdraw from the spectacle of the World and seek repose in sleep.

But how much is he annoyed, when he awakes before daylight and is forced. to await its reappearance. How glad is he, as soon as he has a glimpse of its first rays, and when Aurora, whitening the horizon, restores again to his sight all those pictures, which had disappeared in the shades of night. He sees again those children of the Earth, stretching out their gigantic forms high into the air, those lofty mo0untains, crowning with their ridges his horizon, and forming the circular barrier, which terminate the course of the Stars. The earth slopes down towards their feet and spreads out in vast plains, intersected by rivers, and covered with meadows, woodland and crops, the aspect of which was hidden from his view a {p.81} little while ago by that gloomy veil, which Aurora with beneficent hand is now tearing away. All Nature appears again entirely at the command of the Divinity which sheds the light, but the God of Day is hiding himself yet from the sight of man, in order that his eye might imperceptibly be accustomed to support the brilliant splendour of the rays of the God, whom Aurora comes to usher into the temple of the Universe, of which he is the father and the soul. The gate, by which he has to make his entrance, is already shaded with a thousand colours, and vermillion roses seem to be sown under his footsteps; the gold, mixing its splendour with the azure, forms the triumphal arch, under which the conqueror of night and darkness shall pass. Before him has disappeared the troop of Stars, and left him free passage through the fields of Olympus, of which he alone shall hold the sceptre. Entire Nature awaits him; the birds celebrate his approach with their warbling, and the sound of their concerts re-echo in the plains of the air, over which his chariot shall move, and which is already agitated by the sweet breath of his coursers; the tops of the trees are gently rocked by the fresh breeze, which rises in the East; the animals, which are not afraid of the proximity of man and which live under his roof, awaken with him and receive from Day and Aurora the signal, that they can seek again their food in the meadows and fields, the grass, plants and flowers of which are wet with a gentle dew.

At last this beneficent God makes his appearance, surrounded with all his glory. His empire shall extend over the whole Earth, and His rays shall light up. His altars. His majestic disk spreads in large waves the light and the heat, of which he is the great centre. By degrees, as he advances in his career, Shadow his eternal rival, like Typhon and Ahriman, clinging to coarse matter and bodies which produced it, flies before him, always in the opposite direction, decreasing by degrees as he rises and awaiting his retreat, in order to reunite with {p.82} the gloomy night, in which the Earth is plunged again at the moment, when she sees no more the God, the father of Day and Nature. With a Giant's stride he has overcome the interval, which separates the East from the West, and he descends below the horizon as majestic as when he ascended. The trace of his step is still lit up by the light, which he leaves on the clouds, shaded with a thousand colours, and in the air, which he whitens and where the rays, which he sheds in the atmosphere some hours after his retreat, are broken manifoldly and in various ways, in order to accustom us to his absence and to spare us the terror of a sudden night But finally the latter arrives imperceptibly, and already is her black pall spread over the Earth, which grieves for the loss of a beneficent father.

This is the God, which has been worshipped by all men, which poets have praised and sung, and which has been portrayed and represented under various emblems and under many different names by painters and sculptors, who have embellished the temples, erected to the Great Cause, or to Nature. Thus the Chinese have their famous Ming-Tang or temple of Light; the Persians the monuments of their Mithras, and the Egyptians the temples of Osiris, which is the same God as the Mithras of the Persians.

The natives of the isle of Munay had also erected a temple to the Light; the day which emanates therefrom had its mysteries, and Hesiod gives the epithet of sacred to the Light, which comes in the morning in order to dissipate the shades of night. All the great feasts of the Ancients are connected with its return towards our regions and with its triumph over the long nights of winter. It will therefore cause no surprise at all, when we trace most of the ancient Divinities back to the Light, be it that, which glitters in the Sun, or that which is reflected by the Moon and the Planets, or shines in the fixed Stars, but chiefly in that of the Sun, the principal centre of {p.83} universal light, and that we find in Darkness the enemy of its reign. It is between these two powers that Time and the government of the World is divided.

This division of the two great powers, which rule the destinies of the Universe, and pour into it the Good and the Evil, which is blended throughout all Nature, is expressed in the theology of the Magi by the ingenious emblem of a mysterious egg, representing the spherical form of the World. The Persians say, that Ormuzd born of the purest light, and Ahriman born of darkness, art in eternal war; "that the first has engendered six Gods, which are Benevolence, Truth, good Order, Wisdom, Wealth and virtuous Mirth:" these are so many emanations of the principles of Good, and so many blessings, which are vouchsafed to us. They add, "that the second also begot six Gods, which are antagonistic with the first in their operations, that Ormuzd afterwards made himself thrice as great as he was, and that he is raised above the Sun, as much as the Sun is higher than the Earth; that he embellished the Heavens with Stars, one of which, called Sirius, was appointed as a sentinel or as an outer guard of the Stars; that besides, he has made twenty-four other Gods, which were put into an egg; that those which were begotten by Ahriman, also to the number of twenty-four, pierced the egg, and thus the evils with the blessings became mixed."

Ormuzd, born from the pure substance of light, is therefore the good principle and his productions are appropriate to his nature. It matters very little, whether he is called Ormuzd, Osiris, Jupiter, the good God, the white God, &c. Ahriman, born from darkness, is consequently the bad principle, and his works are conformable to his nature. It is also of very little consequence to us, whether he is called, Ahriman, Typhon, the chief of the Titans, the Devil, Satan, the God of Night. These are the various expressions of the same theological idea, through which each religion has tried the combina- {p.84} tion of good and of evil in this World, which is described here under the emblem of an egg, the same as that, which the God Cneph vomited from his mouth, and like the one, which the Greeks had consecrated in the mysteries of Bacchus. The egg is divided into twelve parts, which number is equal to the divisions of the Zodiac, and to the annual revolution, which contains all the periodical effects of Nature, be they good or bad. Six belong to the God of Light, dwelling in the upper regions of the World; and six to the God of Darkness, who inhabits the lower ones, where the mixture of good and of evil is carried on. The reign of day and its triumph over the long nights, lasts in reality six months or during six signs, from the equinox of spring to that of autumn. The heat of the Sun, which proceeds from the principle of Goodliness, strews flowers upon the Earth, and enriches it with crops and fruits. During the other six months, the Sun seems to lose its fructifying power; the Earth casts off its embellishments; the long nights resume their full sway, and the Government of the World is abandoned to the principle of evil: that is the main point of the enigma, or the sense of the symbolic egg, subordinate to twelve chiefs, six of which produce the good, and the other six evil. The forty-eight other Gods, which are equal in number to that of the constellations known to the Ancients, and which are grouped into two bands of twenty-four, each one under its leader, are the good and the bad Stars, the influence of which is combined with the Sun and the Planets, in order to regulate the destinies of mankind. Sirius, one of the most brilliant fixed Stars, is their chief.

This subdivision of the action of the two principles into six periods each, is rendered allegorically under the millesimal expression in other places of the theology of the Magi; because they subordinate to eternity or to time without end, a period of twelve thousand years, which Ormuzd and Ahriman share amongst themselves, and during which each one of the two {p.85} principles, produces effects, which are analogous to its nature, and gives battle to the other, which end with the triumph of Ormuzd, or of the principle of Good. This theory will be of service chiefly, in order to explain the first chapters of the Genesis, the triumph of Christ, the fight of the Dragon with the Lamb, followed by the victory of the latter in the Apocalypse.

Having thus presented the great totality of Nature or of the Universe, that eternal and almighty cause, such as the Ancients have considered and distributed it in its great bodies, nothing more remains but to proceed with the explanation of their sacred fables in accordance with the basis, which we have laid down, in order to arrive at the results, which the new system shall bring about. This we intend to do in the, succeeding pages.

AN EXPLANATION OF THE HERACLEID OR OF THE
SACRED POEM ON THE TWELVE MONTHS AND ON THE SUN,
WORSHIPPED UNDER THE NAME OF HERCULES

As soon as man had attributed a soul to the World, with life and intelligence to each of its parts, when he had placed Angels, Genii, Gods in every Element, in each Star and especially in that beneficent luminary, which vivifies entire Nature, engenders the seasons and dispenses to the Earth that active heat, which brings forth all the blessings from its bosom and sets aside the evils, which the principle of darkness pours into matter, there remained only one step more to make, in order to put into action in sacred poems all the intelligences or spirits scattered over the Universe, giving them character and habits analogous to their nature, and creating as many personages, each of which played his part in those poetical fictions and religious songs, as if they had played them upon the brilliant stage of the World, Thence originated the poems on the Sun, which was described under the name of Hercules, Bacchus, Osiris, Theseus, Jason, &c., such as the Heracleid, the Dionysiacs, the Theseid, the Argonautics, poems, of which some have reached us complete, others only in part.

There is not one of the heroes of these various poems, who had not reference to the Sun, nor is there one of these songs, which was not a part of the songs on Nature, on the cycles, on the seasons and on the Luminary, which engenders them. Such is the nature of the poem on the twelve months, known by the name of songs on the twelve labours of Hercules or of the solstitial Sun.

{p.87} Whatever may have been the opinions about Hercules, he was surely not a petty Grecian Prince, renowned for his romantic adventures, invested with all the charms of poetry, and sung from age to age by men, who had succeeded the heroic ages. It is the mighty luminary, which animates and fructifies the Universe, the Divinity of which has been honoured everywhere by the erection of temples and altars, and consecrated in religious songs by all nations. From Meroe in Ethiopia, and Thebes in upper Egypt, to the British isles and to the snows of Scythia; from ancient Taprobane and Palibothra in the Indies to Cadiz and the shores of the Atlantic Ocean; from the forests of Germany, to the burning sands of Lybia, wherever the blessings of the Sun were experienced, there the worship of Hercules is found established; there are sung the glorious deeds of this invincible God, who showed himself to man only, in order to deliver him from his evils, to purge the Earth of monsters and chiefly of tyrants, who may be classed amongst the greatest scourges, of which our weakness has to stand in fear. Many centuries before the epoch, which is assigned to the son of Alemena or to the supposed hero of Tirynthia, at the time, when they made him live, Egypt Phoenicia, which surely did not borrow their Gods from and Greece, had erected temples to the Sun, under the name of Hercules, and had carried its worship to the island of Thasus and to Cadiz, where they had also consecrated a temple to the Year and to the Month, which divided it into twelve parts, or in other words, to the twelve labours, or twelve victories, which conducted Hercules to immortality.

It is under the name of Hercules Astrochyton, or of the God clad in a mantle of Stars, that the poet Nonnus designates this Sun-God, worshipped by the Tyrians. The titles of the King of Fire, of Lord of the World and of the Planets—of nourisher of mankind, of the God, whose glowing orb, revolves eternally around the Earth, and who while followed in his {p.88} track by the Year, the daughter of Time and mother of the twelve Months, draws along in regular succession the seasons, which renew and reproduce themselves,—are so many traits of the Sun, that we should recognize them, even if the poet had not given to his Hercules the name of Helios or the Sun. "It is," says he, "the same God, which is worshipped by many nations under different names: as Belus, on the shores of the Euphrates, as Ammon in Lybia, as Apis at Memphis, as Saturn in Arabia, as Jupiter in Assyria, as Serapis in Egypt, as Helios at Babylon, as Apollo at Delphi, as Aesculapius throughout Greece, &c." Martianus Capella, in his magnificent hymn on the Sun, also the poet Ausonius and Macrobius confirm this multiplicity of names, which were given by different nations to this luminary.

The Egyptians, says Plutarch, thought that Hercules had his seat in the Sun, and that he travelled with it around the World.

The author of the hymns, which are attributed to Orpheus, describes in the most precise manner, the affinity or rather the identity of Hercules with the Sun. Indeed, he calls Hercules "the God generator of Time, of which the forms change; the father of all things, and who destroys them all. He is the God, who brings back in regular succession Aurora and the black Night, and who from East to West travels over his career of the twelve labours; a valiant Titan, a strong, invincible and almighty God, who dispels sickness, and who delivers mankind from the evils, with which it is afflicted." Can there be any mistake, when we recognize in these traits, under the name of Hercules, the Sun, that beneficent luminary, which vivifies Nature, and which engenders the Year, composed of the twelve months and expressed by the career of the twelve labours? The Phoenicians have consequently preserved the tradition, that Hercules was the Sun-God, and that his twelve labours represented the journey of this {p.89} luminary through the twelve signs of the Zodiac. Porphyrius, born in Phoenicia, affirms that the name of Hercules was given there to the Sun, and that the fable of the twelve labours expressed the transit of that luminary through the twelve signs of the Zodiac. The scholiast of Hesiod tells us also, "that the Zodiac, in which the Sun accomplishes its annual course, is the real career, which Hercules travels over in the fable of the twelve labours, and that by his marriage with Hebe the Goddess of youth, after the achievement of his career, we must understand the year, which renews itself at the end of each revolution."

It is evident, that if Hercules is the Sun, as we have shown by the above cited authorities, that the fable of the twelve labours is a solar fable, which can have reference only to the twelve months and to the twelve signs, of which the Sun travels over one in each month. This inference shall become a demonstration by the comparison, which we shall make of each of the labours with each one of the months, or with the signs and constellations, which mark the division of time in the Heavens, during each of the months of the annual revolution.

Amongst the different epochs, at which formerly the year began, that of the summer solstice was one of the most remarkable. It was on the return of the Sun to this point, that the Greeks fixed the celebration of their Olympic feasts, the establishment of which was attributed to Hercules: this was the origin of the most ancient era of the Greeks. We shall therefore fix the departure of the Sun Hercules there, in its annual route. The sign of the Lion, domicil of that Star, which furnishes it with its attributes, having formerly occupied that point, his first labour shall be his victory over the Lion; and it is indeed the one, which has been placed at the head of all the others.

But before we shall compare month for month the series of {p.90} the twelve labours with that of the Stars, which determine and mark the annual route of the Sun, it is well to observe, that the Ancients, in order to regulate their sacred and rural Calendars, employed not only the signs of the Zodiac, but more frequently also remarkable Stars, placed outside of the Zodiac, and the various constellations, which by their rising and setting indicated the place of the Sun in each sign. The proof of this will be found in the Fastes of Ovid, in Columella, and chiefly in the Ancient Calendars, which we have published as a sequel to our larger work. It is in conformity, with this known fact, that we shall draw the picture of the subjects of the twelve songs, compared with the constellations, which presided over the twelve months, in order to convince the reader, that the poem of the twelve labours is only a sacred calendar, embellished with all the charms, of which allegory and poetry made use of in these remote ages, in order to give soul and life to their fictions.

CALENDAR		POEM
FIRST MONTH		TITLE OF THE FIRST CANTO OR OF THE FIRST LABOUR
Passage of the Sun under the sign of the celestial Lion, called the Lion of Nemea, fixed by the setting in the morning of the Ingeniculus, or the constellation of the celestial Hercules.		Victory of Hercules over the Nemean Lion.
SECOND MONTH		SECOND LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Virgin, marked by the total setting of he celestial Hydra, called the Lernean Hydra, the head of which rises again in the morning with the Cancer.		Hercules slays the Lernean Hydra, the heads of which grew again, whilst he is is cramped in his labour by a crawfish or Cancer.
THIRD MONTH		THIRD LABOUR
Passage of the Sun at the commencement of autumn to the sign of the Balance, fixed by the rising of {p.91} the celestial Centaur, the same, whose hospitality Hercules enjoyed. This constellation is represented in the Heavens, with a leather bottle, filled with wine, and a Thyrsus adorned with vine leaves and grapes, image of the season's product. Then rises in the evening the celestial Bear, called by others the Boar and the animal of Erymanthia.		A Centaur gives hospitality to Hercules; his fight with the Centaurs for a cask of wine; victory of Hercules over them; he slays a terrible wild Boar, which devastated the fields of Erymanthia.
FOURTH MONTH		FOURTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Scorpion, fixed by the setting of Cassiope, a constellation, which was formerly represented by a Hind.		Triumph of Hercules over a Hind with golden horns and feet of brass, which Hercules took on the Sea shore, where it was reposing.
FIFTH MONTH		FIFTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Sagittarius, consecrated to the Goddess Diana, whose temple was at Stymphalia, in which the Stymphalian Birds were to be seen. This passage is fixed by the rising of three birds, the Vulture, the Swan and the Eagle, pierced by the arrow of Hercules.		Hercules gives chase near Stymphalia to the Birds of the Stymphalian lake, which are represented in number three in the medals of Perin thus.
SIXTH MONTH		SIXTH LABOUR
Passage of the Sun to the sign of the Goat or Capricorn, the son of Neptune according to some, and grandson to the Sun, according to others. This passage is marked by the setting of the River of the Aquarius, which flows under the stable of the Capricorn, and the source of which is in the hands of Aristeus, son of the river Peneus.		Hercules cleans the Stables of Augias, the son of the Sun, or according to others the son of Neptune. He makes the river Peneus run through it.
SEVENTH MONTH		SEVENTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of Waterman or Aquarius, and at the place in the Heavens, where the full Moon was found every year, which served to denote the epoch for the celebration of the Olympic games. This passage was marked by the Vulture, placed {p.92} in the Heavens alongside the constellation called Prometheus, at the same time that the celestial Bull called the Bull of Pariphae and of Marathon culminated in the meridian, at the setting of the Horse Arion or Pegasus.		Hercules arrives at Elis; He was mounted on the horse Arion; he drags along with him the Bull of Creta, beloved by Pasiphae, which afterwards ravaged the plains of Marathon. He institutes the celebration of the Olympic Games, where he is the first to enter the lists; he kills the Vulture of Prometheus.
EIGHTH MONTH		EIGHTH LABOUR
Passage of the Sun to the sign of he Fishes, fixed by the rising in the morning of the celestial Horse, the head of which is bearing on Aristeus, or on the Aquarius the son of Cyrene.		Hercules makes the conquest of the Horses of Diomedes, the son of Cyrene.
NINTH MONTH		NINTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Ram, consecrated to Mars, and which is also called the Ram of the Golden Fleece. This passage is marked by the rising of the ship Argo, by the setting of Andromeda, or of the celestial Woman and of her a Girdle; by that of the Whale; by the rising of Medusa, and by the setting of the Queen Cassiope.		Hercules embarks on board the ship Argo, in order to make the conquest of the Ram of the Golden Fleece; he fights with martial women, daughters of Mars, from whom he takes a magnificent girdle and liberates a Maiden exposed to the Whale or a Sea-monster, like one to which Andromeda, the daughter of Cassiope was exposed.
TENTH MONTH		TENTH LABOUR
The Sun leaves the Ram of Phrixus and enters the sign of the Bull. This transit is marked by the setting of Orion, who was in love with the Atlantides, or with the Pleiades; by that of Bootes, the Driver of the Oxen of Icarus; by that of the River Eridanus; by the rising of the Atlanticles and by that of the Goat, the wife of Faunus.		Hercules after his voyage with the Argonauts in order to conquer the Ram, returns to Hesperia, to make the conquest of the Oxen of Geryon; he also kills a tyranical Prince, who persecuted the Atlantides, and arrives in Italy at the house of Faunus at the rising of the Pleiades.
ELEVENTH MONTH		ELEVENTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Twins, which transit is indicated by setting of the Dog Procyon; by the cosmical rising of the great Dog, followed by the stretching out of the Hydra and by the rising in the evening of the celestial Swan. {p.93}		Hercules conquers a terrible Dog, the tail of which was a Serpent, and the head of which was bristling with the serpents; he defeats also Cygnus, or the Prince Swan, at the time in which the Dog-star scorches the Earth with its fire.
TWELFTH MONTH		TWELFTH LABOUR
The Sun enters the sign of the Cancer, which corresponds with the last month, indicated by the setting of the Stream of the Waterman, and of the Centaur, by the rising of the Shepherd and his Sheep, at the time when the constellation of the Hercues Ingeniculus is descending towards the occidental regions, called Hesperia, followed by the Polar Dragon, the guardian of the Apples growing in the garden of the Hesperides; which Dragon he puts under his feet, as marked in the sphere, and which falls near him towards the setting.		Hercules travels in Hesperia, in order to gather Golden Apples, guarded by a Dragon, which, in our spheres, is near the pole, according to others, in order to carry off sheep with a Golden Fleece. He is preparing to make a sacrifice and puts on a robe dyed in the blood of a Centaur, whom he had slain at the passage of a river. By this robe he is consumed with fire; he dies and ends thus his mortal career, in order to resume his youth in Heaven and to enjoy there immortality.

This is the comparative picture of the cantos of the poem of the twelve labours and of the celestial aspects during the twelve months of the annual revolution, achieved by the Sun under the name of the indefatigable Hercules. The reader may judge of the relation, which may exist between the poem and the calendar, and to observe up to what point they may agree. It is sufficient for us to say, that we have in no way introverted the series of the twelve labours; that it is just so, as described by Diodorus of Sicily. With regard to the celestial pictures, any body may verify them with a sphere, by making the colures of the solstices pass through the Lion and the Waterman, and those of the equinoxes through the Bull and the Scorpion, which was then the position of the spheres at that epoch, when the Lion opened the solstitial year, about two thousand four hundred years before our era.

Even if the Ancients had not told us, that Hercules was the Sun; even if the universality of its worship did not show plainly, that a petty Grecian Prince could never have had such an astonishing good lack in the religious World, and that such a high destiny did not belong to a mortal, but alone to that God, whose blessings are felt over the whole Universe, {p.94} it would be sufficient to understand thoroughly all the relations of this double picture, in order to come with the greatest verisimilitude to the conclusion, that the hero of the poem is the God, who measures the time, who conducts the year, who regulates the seasons and the months, and who distributes the light, heat and life throughout Nature. When the adventures of a man or a prince are there looked for, it becomes a monstrous story, which never agrees with any chronology at all: but when we discover in it the God, who fecundates the Universe, then it becomes at once a grand and ingenious poem. All is motion, all is life there. The solstitial Sun is there represented with all the attributes of power, which it has acquired at that epoch, and which contains in him the depositary of the universal power of the World; he is clothed with the skin of the Lion and armed with the club. Boldly he strides onward in the career, which he is by Nature's eternal law obliged to travel. It is not the sign of the Lion through which he moves, but it is a terrible lion, that ravages the country which he has to fight; he attacks it, he struggles with and smothers it in his arms and he adorns himself with the skin of the vanquished animal; then he goes on to accomplish a second victory. The celestial Hydra is the second monster, which is thrown as obstacle in the way of the hero. Poetry represents it as a serpent with a hundred heads, which ceaselessly grow out again, when cut off. Hercules burns them with his mighty fires. The ravages caused by this frightful animal; the terror among the inhabitants of the country near the marshes, where the monster lives; the horrible hissing of its hundred heads; on the other hand, the air of perfect self-possession of the conqueror of the Lion of Nemea; his perplexity afterwards, when he sees the heads, which he had cut off, grow out again, all is painted in about the same colours, as the victory of this same hero over the monster Cacus is described by Virgil. All the celestial ani- {p.95} mals, which are put on the stage in this poem, appear there in a character, which is entirely outside the ordinary limits of Nature: the horses of Diomnedes devour men; the women rise above the timidity of their sex and are redoubtable heroines' in battle; the apples are of gold; the hind has feet of brass; the dog Cerberus bristles with serpents: everything, even the crawfish is terrible there; because all is grand in Nature, alike as in the sacred symbols, which express its various powers.

We feel what expansion a poet was able to give to all these physical and astronomical ideas, to which others must have been associated, which were borrowed either from agriculture, geography, politics or morals, because all the particular objects entered into the general system of the first poets—philosophers, who have praised the Gods in Songs, and who have introduced man into the sanctuary of Nature, which seemed to have revealed them its secrets. How many episodic pieces of poetry must have been lost to us, which were connected with the principal subject of each canto of the poem, and in which the allegorical and poetical genius was free to soar, to dare and to imagine everything! Because to the omnipotence of the Gods nothing is impossible: to them alone belongs the privilege to astonish mankind by the magical machinery of their power. What a glorious career was here opened to genius by Nature, which placed before his eyes the most brilliant pictures, in order to imitate them in their Songs. There was then really the' golden age of Poetry, daughter of Heaven and of the Gods. Since those times of antiquity it has remained much below that sublime elevation, which it had attained in its lofty soarings, when it was supported by all the forces, which genius may draw from the contemplation of the Universe, or of that great God, whose first oracles and first priests were the poets. W5hat an immense field for our conjectures on the antiquity of the World and its civilization is {p.96} here offered, when we reflect, that the position of the Heavens, given by these poems, where the constellations act such a grand part, do not permit us to bring those authors nearer to our era, than two thousand five hundred years. Is it really over the ruins of a World, scarcely emerged from the waters of a deluge, that the arts of genius soared so high?

There is still another inference to be drawn from this comparative picture, which has demonstrated, that Hercules was not a mortal, who was raised to the rank of the Gods on account of his courage and of the benefits, which he had conferred on mankind, nor that the events of his pretended life were historical facts, but that they were simply astronomical realities. That conclusion is, that the testimony of many centuries and of many nations in favour of the existence, as mortals, of the heroes of the different religions, whose memory is consecrated by worship, and by poems and legends, is not always a sure guarantee of their historical reality. The example of Hercules puts this inference in its full evidence. The Greeks very generally believed in the existence of Hercules as a Prince, who was born, and had lived and died amongst them, after having travelled all over the Universe.

They gave him several wives and children, and made him the head of a family of Heraclides, or of Princes, who pretended to have descended from Hercules, the same as the Incas of Peru said, that they were the descendants of the Sun. Evidences of the existence of Hercules were shown everywhere even in his foot-prints, which betrayed his Colossian size. A description of his form had been preserved, the same as the Christians have of the holy face of their God Sun, Christ. He was lean, muscular, tawny; he had an aquiline nose, curled hair and was of robust health.

In Italy, Greece and in various other places on the Earth, there were shown cities, which he had founded, canals which lie had dug, rocks, which he had rent asunder, columns which he {p.97} had erected, stones, which Jupiter had thrown from Heaven, in order to supply his deficient missiles in his fight against the Ligurians. Temples, statues, altars, feasts, solemn games, hymns, sacred traditions, scattered over different countries, reminded the Greeks of the sublime deeds of the hero of Tirynthia, of the renowned son of Jupiter and Alcmena, and also of the blessings, which he had bestowed on the Universe in general, and on the Greeks in particular; yet, notwithstanding all this, we have just seen, that the great Hercules, the hero of the twelve labours, the very same to whom the Greeks attributed so many marvellous deeds, whom they honoured under the forms of a hero, clothed with a lion's skin and armed with a club, is the great God of all nations; that strong and fecundating Sun, which engenders the Seasons and measures time in the annual circle of the zodiac, divided into twelve sections, which designate and to which are united the various animals, representing the constellations, the only monsters, which the hero of the poem had fought.

What matter for reflection ought it be for those, who are drawing a great argument from the evidence of one or several nations, and of several centuries, in order to establish a historical fact, chiefly in matter of religion, where the very first duty is to believe without examination. The philosophy of a single individual in this case is better than the opinion of many thousands of men, and of many centuries of credulity. Those reflections will find their application in the solar fable, invented on the chief of the twelve apostles, or in other words on the hero of the legend of the Christians, and eighteen centuries of imposture and ignorance will not destroy the striking likeness, which this fable has with the other sacred romances, which have been made on the Sun, called by Plato the only son of God. The universal benefactor of the World—when he quitted the skin of the solstitial Lion, in order to take that of the equinoctial Lamb of Spring—shall not escape {p.98} our researches under this new disguise, and the Lion of the tribe of Judah shall still be the Sun, which has its domicile in the sign of the celestial Lion and its exaltation in that of the Lamb or the vernal Ram. But let us not anticipate the time, when the Christians will be obliged to recognize their God in that luminary, which regenerates Nature each year at the time, when they celebrate their Easter. Let us proceed on to the sacred fictions invented on the Moon.

AN EXPLANATION OF THE TRAVELS OF ISIS OR THE MOON,
WORSHIPPED IN EGYPT UNDER THAT NAME

The ancient Egyptians associated the Moon in the universal administration of the World, with the Sun, and it is the former, which plays the part of Isis in the sacred fable known by the title of the history of Osiris and Isis. We are informed by Diodorus of Sicily, that the first inhabitants of Egypt, while admiring the spectacle of the Heavens and the wonderful order of the World, thought to perceive in Heaven two principal and eternal causes, or two grand Divinities, and one of them they called Osiris or the Sun, and the other Isis or the Moon. The denomination of Isis, which was given to the Moon, is confirmed by Porphyrius and by other authors: from which we draw a necessary inference, which is, that the career of Isis is merely the career of the Moon, and as the fields of Olympus are the scene of her travels in her monthly revolution, it is there, that we shall place the scenes of her adventures, and over which we shall make her [perform her journey. This conclusion is justified by the passage in Chaeremon, whom we have cited before, in which this learned Egyptian tells us, that the Egyptians explained the fable of Osiris and Isis, as well as the sacred fables, by the celestial signs, by the phases of the Moon, by the increase and diminution of its light, by the divisions of the time and of Heaven into two parts, by the paranatellons or the rising and setting of the Stars in aspect with the signs. In conformity with this principle we have explained the poem of the twelve labours: the same principles we shall follow in the explanation of the legend of Isis, of {p.100} which we shall also offer the comparative picture with those, which the Heavens present from tile time when the Sun has quitted our hemisphere, and left to the Moon, then full, the reign of the long nights, until the time when it re-passes to our climes.

Let us therefore take up Isis at the epoch of the death of her husband, and let us follow her steps from the time she is deprived of, until that, when she is again restored to him on his return from the infernal regions, or in order to speak without metaphor, from the time, when the Sun has passed in the astral or lower regions of the World, until he re-passes as conqueror in the boreal regions or to the upper hemisphere.

Plutarch supposes, that after his return from his travels to Egypt, Osiris was invited by Typhon, his brother and rival, to a banquet. He was put to death by the latter and his body thrown into the Nile. The Sun, says, Plutarch, occupied then the sign of the Scorpion, and the Moon. was full; the latter was therefore in the sign opposite to the Scorpion, in other words in the Bull, which lent its forms to the equinoctial vernal Sun, or to Osiris; because at that remote period, the Bull was the sign, which corresponded to the equinox of Spring. As soon as Isis had information of the death of the unfortunate Osiris, which all the ancients said to be the same God as the Sun, and was advised, that the Genius of darkness had shut him up in a coffin, she went in search of his body. Uncertain about the route she had to take, uneasy, excited, her heart rent with grief, dressed in mourning, she interrogates all those she meets with. She is informed by children, that the coffin, containing the body of her husband, had been carried by the flood down to the Sea, and thence to Byblos, where it stopped, that it rested quietly on a plant, which all at once had budded and put forth a splendid stem. The coffin was so completely enveloped by it, that it seemed to form on one and the same body. The King of the country, {p.101} astonished at the beauty of the tree, had it cut down and made out of it a column for his palace, without perceiving the coffin, which had united and incorporated itself with the trunk. Isis, informed by Fame, and impelled as it were by divine instinct, arrives at Byblos. Bathed in tears, she sits down near a fountain, where she remains with a heavy heart, without speaking to anybody, until she sees the women of the queen arrive. She salutes them respectfully and dresses their hair, so as to emit with their bodies the fragrance of an exquisite perfume. The Queen, having been informed by these women, of what had happened, and smelling the delightful fragrance of Ambrosia, desired to see the stranger. She invites Isis to her palace, and to become one of her attendants; she makes her the nurse of her son. Isis, instead of the nipple of her breast puts her finger into the mouth of this child, and during the night burns all the mortal parts of his body. At the same time she metamorphoses herself in a swallow; she flutters around the column, and fills the air with her plaintiff cries, until the Queen, who had observed her, shrieks with horror at the sight of her son in flames. This scream breaks the charm, which would have given immortality to the infant. The Goddess then made herself known and requested, that the precious column should be given up to her. She took easily from it the body of her husband, by disengaging the coffin from the wood which covered it: she veiled it with a light tissue, which she perfumed with essences; afterwards she restored to the King and to the Queen this envelope of foreign wood, which was deposited in the temple of Isis at Byblos. The Goddess then approached the coffin, bathing it with her tears, and uttered such a terrific scream, that the youngest son of the King died of terror. Isis took the oldest one with her and embarked on board of a vessel, taking with her the precious coffin; but towards morning a somewhat strong wind having risen on the river Phaedrus, it made her stop {p.102} suddenly. She retires aside, and supposing herself alone, she opens the coffin, and pressing her lips on those of her husband, she kisses and bedews him with her tears. The young Prince, whom she had brought along with her, approached her stealthily from behind with as little noise as possible, and spied her movements. The Goddess perceived it and turning around suddenly, she gives him such a terrible look, that he dies of terror. She embarks again and returns to Egypt near her son Orus, who was brought up at Butos, and she deposits the corpse in a retired place. Typhon, having gone hunting at night, discovers the coffin and having recognized the corpse, he cuts it into fourteen pieces, which he throws about in all directions. The Goddess having seen it, goes to collect these scattered pieces; she buries each one in the place where she had found it. However, of all the parts of the body of Osiris, the only one, which she could not find, was that of generation. In place of it she substitutes the Phallus, which was its image and which was consecrated in the mysteries.

Some time afterwards, Osiris returned from the infernal regions to the rescue of his son Orus, and placed him in a condition to revenge him. He mounted him, some say on horse, others on a wolf. Typhon was vanquished: Isis lets him escape. Orus felt indignant on that account, and took from his mother her diadem; but Mercurius gave her in its place a helmet in the shape of a Bull's head. This is a summary of the Egyptian legend of Isis, which has come down to us only in a mutilated form, and which must have been part of a sacred poem on Osiris, Isis and Typhon their enemy. Notwithstanding the immense gaps, which are found in this allegorical story, there will be no difficulty for us in recognizing a perfect correspondence between the principal traits, which remain of this ancient sacred fable, and the appearance, which the Heavens offer at various epochs of the movement of the two great luminaries, which regulate {p.103} the course of the seasons, the periodical course of vegetation and time, and the succession of the days and nights. We shall now, as in the poem on Hercules, proceed to reconcile by comparison those different pictures presented by the Fable, with the aspects offered by Heaven. We shall fix their number at twelve.

FIRST CELESTIAL ASPECT		FIRST PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The Scorpion being the sign, which the Sun occupies at the time of the death of Osiris, has for paranatellons, or Stars which rise and set in aspect with it, the Serpents, which furnish to Typhon his attributes. To this celestial position corresponds, by her setting, Cassiope, Queen of Ethiopia, which announces impetuous winds in Autumn.		Osiris is put to death by his rival Typhon, the Genius inimical to light. This event takes place under the Scorpion. Typhon associates to his conspiracy a Queen of Ethiopia, which, as Plutarch says, denotes violent winds.
SECOND CELESTIAL ASPECT		SECOND PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The Sun unites then with the Serpentarius, who, according to all authors, is the same as Aesculapius, who lends his form to that luminary in its passage to the inferior signs, where he becomes Serapis and Pluto.		Osiris descends to the tomb or to the infernal regions. According to Plutarch he becomes then Serapis, which is the same God as Pluto or Aesculapius.
THIRD CELESTIAL ASPECT		THIRD PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
At the time, when the Sun descends to the inferior signs, where it corresponds with the seventeenth degree of the Scorpion, which is the epoch at which they fixed the death of Osiris; the Moon is then full in the celestial Bull. This is the sign, which the latter joins the Sun of Spring, when the Earth receives its fecundity from Heaven, and when Day resumes its sway over the long Nights. The Bull, being opposite to the place of the Sun, enters into the {p.104} cone of shadow, which the Earth projects, and which forms the night, with which the Bull rises and sets, covering it with its veil during the whole of its sojourn above the horizon.		On the same day Isis mourns the death of her husband, and in the lugubrious ceremony, which represented that tragic event every year, a gilded ox was led about in procession, covered with a black crape and they said, that this ox was the image of Osiris, in other words Apis, the symbol of the celestial Bull, according to Lucian. The mourning of Nature was thereby expressed, which was deprived by the retreat of the Sun of its ornaments, also of the beauty of Day, going to yield its place to the God of Darkness or the long nights. Plutarch adds, that people lamented the retreat of the water of the Nile and the loss of all the blessings of Spring and Summer.
FOURTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		FOURTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
Henceforth it is the Moon, which shall regulate the order of Nature. Every month her full and round disk represents in each of the superior signs an image of the Sun, which she does not find there any more, and the place of which she occupies during night, but' without possessing either the light, or the fecundating heat of the former. She is full in the first month of Autumn in the sign, in which, at the equinox of Spring, Osiris had placed, the seat of his fecundity, a sign, which was the signs, which these two luminaries then occupied.		On the first day following this death, the Egyptians went to the seashore during the night. There they made with earth and water an image of the Moon, which they adorned, exclaiming, that they had found Osiris. They said that the Earth and Water, out of which they had made that image, represented these two Divinities, Osiris and Isis, or the Sun and the Moon; allusion is doubtless made here to the nature of the Elements, which presided over consecrated to the Earth, while the Sun occupies the Scorpion, a sign which is consecrated to the element of Water.
FIFTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		FIFTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The Bull, where the cone of the shadow of the Earth falls, described under the emblem of a tenebrous coffin, and occupied by the full Moon, had beneath it the river Orion, called the Nile, and above it Perseus, the God of Chemmis, also the constellation of the Driver, bearing the Goat and its Kids. This Goat is called the wife of Pan, and it furnished to that God its attributes.		The coffin, which encloses Osiris, is thrown into the Nile. The Pans and Satyrs, inhabiting the environs of Chemmis, were the first who noted this death; they announced by their lamentations, and they spread grief and terror everywhere.
SIXTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		SIXTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The next full Moon arrives in the sign of the Twins, where two chil- {p.105} dren are represented, which preside over the oracles of Didyme, which is called Apollo the God of Divination.		Isis, having been informed of the death of her husband, travels in search of the coffin, which encloses one of his remains. At first she meets children, who had seen the coffin; she interrogates them and obtains some information; she bestows on them the gift of Divination.
SEVENTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		SEVENTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The full Moon which follows takes place in the sign of the Cancer, which is the domicile of that planet. The constellations, which are in aspect with this sign, and which are setting when it rises, are the crown of Ariadne, that Princess, with whom Bacchus, the Egyptian Osiris, had slept; the Dog Procyon, and the great Dog, of which one star is called the Star of Isis. The great Dog itself was worshipped in Egypt under the name of Anubis.		Isis is informed, that Osiris through mistake had slept with his sister. The proof of it she finds in a crown, which he had left with her. A child was born of it, and with the aid of her dogs is in search of it; she finds it, brings it up and adopts it; this is Anubis her faithful guardian.
EIGHTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		EIGHTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
In the following month the Moon is full in the sign of the Lion, which is the domicile of the Sun or of Adonis, a God worshipped at Byblos. The Stars in aspect with this sign are the River of the Aquarius, and Cepheus, King of Ethiopia, called to her Regulus or simply the King. In his train rises Cassiope his wife and Queen Ethiopia, Andromeda her daughter'and Perseus her son-in-law.		Isis travels to Byblos, and stations herself near a' fountain, where she is met by the women of the King's Court. The Queen and the King desire to see her, she is introduced at the Court, and they propose the office of nurse of the King's son. Isis accepts the place.
NINTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		NINTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The succeeding Moon is full in the sign of the Virgin, called also Isis by Eratosthenes. They painted it as a Woman suckling an infant. In aspect with this sign we find the Mast-head of the celestial Vessel and the Fish with a Swallow's head.		Isis having become a nurse, suckles the child during the night; she burns all the mortal nature of his body, and she is after this metamorphosed into a Swallow. She is seen flying away and to place herself near a large column, which had been suddenly formed out of a very small stalk, to which the coffin held, which contained the remains of her husband. {p.106}
TENTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		TENTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
When the Moon leaves the sign of the Virgin, there are placed over the divisions, which separate that sign from that of the Balance where she is to become full--the Vessel and Bootes, who, it is said, had brought up Orus. The son or the son-in-law of the King of Ethiopia, Perseus, also the river Orion are setting. The other Stars in aspect with the Balance and which are rising in succession, are the Boar of Erymanthis or the celestial Bear, called the Dog of Typhon; the polar Dragon, the famous Python, which furnishes to Typhon his attributes. Here we have the train, with which the full Moon of the Balance, or the last of the superior signs, is surrounded: she is preceding the Neomenia (new moon) of Spring, which takes place in the Bull, in which the Sun or Osiris shall unite again with the Moon, or with Isis his spouse.		Isis, having found the coffin, which contains the corpse of her husband, leaves Byblos she embarks on board of a Vessel with the eldest son of the King, and takes the route towards Boutos, where the foster father of Orus was. In the morn a too strong wind had risen. She deposes the precious coffin apart; but it is discovered by Typhon, who had gone hunting at the light of the full Moon and was in pursuit of a hog or a wild boar. He recognizes the corpse of his rival and cuts him in as many pieces, as days had elapsed since this full Moon until the new one. This circumstance, says Plutarch, makes allusion to the successive diminution of the Lunar light during the fortnight, which follows the full Moon.
ELEVENTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		ELEVENTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The Moon arrives at the Bull at the end of a fortnight and unites with the Sun, the fire of which she will collect on her disk during the next fortnight. She finds herself then in conjunction with it every month in the superior part of the signs, or in other words, in the hemisphere, where the Sun, as the conqueror of Darkness and of Winter, restores Light, Order and Harmony. She borrows of the Sun the power, which shall destroy the germs of Evil, which Typhon, during the absence of Osiris, or during Winter, has introduced into the boreal region of the Earth. This passage of the Sun in the Bull, when {p.107} it returns from the infernal regions or from the inferior hemisphere, is marked by the rising in the evening of the Horse, of the Centaur and of the Wolf, and by the setting of Orion, called the Star of Orus. The latter is found, during all the consecutive days, united with the Sun of Spring, in its triumph over Darkness and over Typhon, the originator of it.		Isis gathers the fourteen pieces of her husband's corpse; she gives them burial, and consecrates the Phallus, which was carried about in procession on the occasion of the Spring festivities, known by the name of Taamyhes. This happen ed at that epoch, when they celebrated the entry of Osiris in the Moon. Osiris then had come back from hell to the rescue of his son Orus and of his wife Isis, with whom he united his forces against Typhon the chief of Darkness: the form under which he appears, is according to some the Wolf, and according to others the Horse.
TWELFTH CELESTIAL ASPECT		TWELFTH PICTURE OF THE LEGEND
The equinoctial year ends at, the time, when the Sun and the Moon find themselves reunited again with Orion or with the Star Orus, a constellation, which is placed under the Bull, and which unites with the Neomenia of Spring. The new Moon renews herself in the sign of the Bull, and after a few days she appears under the form of the Crescent in the next sign, or in the Twins, the domicile of Mercury. Orion, united with the Sun, then precipitates the Scorpion his rival into the depth of night; because it sets each time when Orion rises the horizon. Day prolongs its duration, and the seeds of Evil are by degrees destroyed. This is the picture, which the poet Nonnus gives us of Typhon after being vanquished at last at the end of Winter, when the Sun arrives at the sign of the Bull, and Orion ascends to Heaven with it; for those are his expressions.		Isis had overtaken the terrible Typhon, during the absence of her husband, when she deposed the coffin in the place, where her enemy was. Having finally found again Osiris at the time, when he prepared for the fight with Typhon, she was deprived by her son of her ancient diadenm; however, she receives through Mercury a helmet in the shape of a Bull's head. Orus, under the form and in the attitude of a terrible warrior, such as Orion or the Star of Orus is represented, then fights and defeats his enemy, on who had assaulted his father under the form of the polar Dragon or the famous Python. It is thus in Ovid, that Apollo defeats the same Python, at the time when Jo, who became Isis afterwards, receives the favours of Jupiter, who places her afterwards in the sign of the celestial Bull. All these fables cohere together, and have the same object.

A correspondence so complete, which has so many points of resemblance between the pictures of this allegory and those of Heaven, which is connected from beginning to end, mutilated as this legend or sacred history may seem to be, leaves no doubt, that the priest-astronomer, who composed it, had merely de- {p.108} scribed the course of the Moon in the Heavens, under the title of the career of Isis, especially when we know, that Isis is the name, which was given to the Moon in Egypt. Indeed, it would be necessary to assert, that Isis was not the Moon, which cannot be said; or to pretend, that Isis being the Moon, the career of Isis was not that of the Moon, which would imply a contradiction; or finally to follow somewhere else than in Heaven and amongst the constellations, the course of that luminary. In our explanation we have only made use of the method, which is shown to us by Chaeremon, in order to unriddle the sacred fables, and particularly that of Osiris and Isis, which he says refers to the increase and decrease of the light of the Moon, in the superior and inferior hemisphere, and to the stars in aspect with the signs, otherwise called paranatellons. We have merely followed the route traced by the sages of Egypt, in our explanations. Now here we have an ancient Queen of Egypt, and an ancient King, whose fictitious adventures have been described in the form of history, and who nevertheless, like the Hercules of the Greeks, are mere physical beings and the two principal agents of Nature. From these examples we may judge of the allegorical character of antiquity and how much we ought to be on our guard against traditions, which place physical beings in the number of historical beings.

It is important, not to lose sight of the fact, that in ancient times they wrote the history of Heaven and chiefly that of the Sun, under the form of a history of men, and. that the people almost everywhere accepted it for history and its hero for a real man. It was so much easier to accredit this error, in as much as the priests in general did all they could, to make the people believe, that the Gods, which it worshipped, had been mortals, and had been Princes, Legislators or virtuous men, who had well deserved of mankind, be it, that by doing so, they wanted to give lessons to the rulers of the people, instructing them, {p.109} that, they could aspire to the same glory only by imitating the ancient leaders of society; or that their object was, to encourage the people to be virtuous, by persuading them, that in ancient times the sceptre was the price of services rendered to the country, and not the patrimony of some families. Tombs of the Gods were shown, as if they had really existed; they celebrated feasts, the object of which seemed to be to renew every year the mourning, occasioned by their loss. Such was the tomb of Osiris, hidden under those enormous masses, known by the name of Pyramids, erected by the Egyptians in honour of that luminary, which distributes the light. One of them has its four faces regarding the four cardinal points of the World. Each one of these faces has one hundred and ten fathoms at the base, and the four together form as many lateral triangles. The perpendicular height is seventy-seven fathoms, according to the measurement of Chazelles of the Academy of Sciences. From the dimensions and from the latitude under which this pyramid had been constructed, it followed, that a fortnight before the equinox of spring, which is the exact epoch, at which the Persians celebrated the renewal of Nature, it had to cease to throw shadow at noon, and that it continued so, until a fortnight after the equinox of autumn. Therefore the day, when the Sun found itself in the parallel or in the circle of austral declension, corresponds to five degrees and fifteen minutes; this happened twice a year, once before the equinox of spring and the other after that of autumn. This luminary made its appearance exactly at noon, over the summit of the pyramid. Then its majestic disk seemed some instants as if placed over this immense pedestal and as if reposing there, while its worshippers with bended knees at its foot, and prolonging their sight along the inclined plan of the boreal face of the pyramid, contemplated the great Osiris, either descending into the shades of the tomb, or ascending out of it triumphantly. The same thing may be said of th1e full Moon of the equinoxes, when it happened in those latitudes.

{p.110} It should seem as if the Egyptians, always grand in their conceptions, had executed the boldest project ever imagined: that of giving a pedestal to the Sun and the Moon, or to Osiris and Isis, at noon for the former and at midnight for the latter, when they arrived in that part of the Heaven, near which the line passes; which separates the boreal from the austral hemisphere, the reign of Goodness from that of Evil, that of Light from that of Darkness. They wanted the shadow to disappear at noon from all the faces of the pyramid, during all the time, that the Sun would remain in the luminous hemisphere, and that the boreal face should be covered with shadow, when night should begin to resume its sway in our hemisphere, in other words, at the time when Osiris would descend to the tomb and to the infernal regions. The tomb of Osiris was covered with shadow for nearly six months; afterwards light invested it entirely at noon, as soon as Osiris on his return from Hell, resumed his reign by passing into the luminous hemisphere. Then he was restored to Isis and to the God of Spring Horus, who had finally conquered the Genius of Darkness and of Winter. What a sublime idea! In the centre of the pyramid there is a little vault, said to be the tomb of an ancient King. This King is the husband of Isis the famous Osiris, that beneficent King whom the people believed to have reigned in ancient times over Egypt, while the priests and the philosophers saw in it the mighty Luminary, the ruler of the World, which enriches it with its blessings. Indeed, would the people have gone to these great expenses, if this mausoleum should not have been in repute, to preserve the precious remains of Osiris, which his wife had gathered, and which they said, she had entrusted to the priests, in order to have them interred at the same time, when they should decree him divine honours? Can it be supposed, that its object might have been a different one, with a people, which spared no expense, in or- {p.111} der to invest worship with pomp and magnificence, and whose greatest luxury was religious splendour? Thus the Babylonians, who worshipped the Sun under the name of Belus, built him also a tomb, hidden under an immense pyramid; because, as soon as the mighty Luminary, which animates Nature, had been personified, and in the sacred fictions was made to be born, to die and to resuscitate, the imitative worship, which endeavoured to describe its adventures, placed tombs alongside its temples. Thus was shown that of Jupiter at Crete, that of the Sun Christ in Palestine, of Mithras in Persia; of Hercules at Cadiz, those of the Charioteer, of the celestial Bear, of Medusa, of the Pleiades in Greece. All these various tombs prove absolutely nothing in favour of the historic existence of these imaginary personages, to whom the mystical spirit of the Ancients had dedicated them. The place, where Hercules was consumed by the flames was also shown, and yet we have demonstrated, that Hercules was nothing else but the Sun personified in the sacred allegories; the same, as we have shown, that the adventures of the Queen Isis had reference to the M0ioon, which was praised in songs by its worshippers. There are still other examples of the allegorical genius of the Ancients which we shall furnish, in which the Sun is personified and praised in songs under the name of a beneficent hero. Such is the famous Bacchus of the Greeks, or the Egyptian Osiris.

AN EXPLANATION OF THE DIONYSIACS,
OR THE POEM OF NONNUS ON THE SUN,
WORSHIPPED UNDER THE NAME OF BACCHUS

In our explanations of the labours of Hercules, we mainly considered the Sun as the mighty luminary, the depositary of the whole force of Nature, which engenders and measures time by its course in the Heavens, which, while departing from the summer solstice or from the most elevated point in its route, travels over its career of the twelve signs, in which the celestial bodies circulate, and with them, the various periods or revolutions of the Stars. Under its name of Osiris or Bacchus we shall review the beneficent luminary, which by its gentle heat in spring calls everything to reproduction, which regulates the growth of plants and of trees, which ripens the fruits and pours in all the germs that active sap, which is the soul of vegetation; because that is the true character of the Egyptian Osiris and the Grecian Bacchus. It is especially in spring, when that generating humidity is developed and circulates in all nascent productions; and it is the Sun, which by its heat, impels the movement and gives Fecundity to it.

Two points are actually distinguished in Heaven, which limit the duration of the creative action of the Sun, and these two points are those, where night and day are of equal length. All the great work of vegetation in a large portion of the northern climes seems to be included between those two limits, and its progressive march is found to be in harmony with that of light and heat. Scarcely has the Sun in its annual route attained one of these points, when an active and fecundating force seems to emanate from its rays, and to impel life and {p.113} movement into all sublunary bodies, which it brings to light by a new organization. It is then, when the resurrection of the great God takes place, and with his own, that of entire Nature. As soon as it arrives at the opposite point, this virtue seems to abandon it and Nature to feel its decline. This is Atys, whose mutilation is deplored by Cybele; this is Adonis wounded in his sexual organs, the loss of which causes the regret of Venus; this is Osiris, put to death by Typhon, and whose organs of generation distressed Isis is unable to find.

What spectacle indeed could be more afflicting, than that of Earth, when through the absence of the Sun, it is divested of its ornaments, of its green, of its leaves, and that we behold merely the remains of withered plants, or already in decomposition, of stripped trunks of trees, of fields full of weeds and without culture, or covered with snow, of overflown rivers, or chained in their beds by a crust of ice, or of furious storms, carrying destruction, on land, on water and in the air, and in every part of this sublunary World! What has become of that genial temperature, which the Earth enjoyed in spring and in summer, of that harmony of the Elements, in accord with that of the Heavens? Of that wealth, of that beauty of our fields covered with rich crops and fruits, or enamelled with flowers, whose fragrance perfumed the air and the various colours of which presented such a charming spectacle?, All has disappeared, and happiness has forsaken man with the God, who by his presence beautified our climes; through his retirement the Earth has been clothed in mourning and his return alone can save it from that state. He was therefore the creator of all those blessings, because with him they also glide away; he was the soul of vegetation, because it languishes and is arrested as soon as he quits us. What shall be the term of his flight and of his descent from the Heavens, from which Apollo, like him, exiled himself? Is he going to plunge Nature again into the eternal darkness of Chaos, from which his {p.114} presence had drawn it? Such were the perplexities of those ancient nations, who feared, when they saw the Sun retiring from their climates, that one day it would really abandon them entirely: hence those feasts of hope, which they celebrated at the winter-solstice, when man saw this luminary stop in its retrograde march, and take the back track, in order to return again towards them. But if men were so accessible to the hope of a near return, what must have been the joy, which they experienced, when the Sun, already risen again towards the midst of Heaven, had chased darkness before it, which encroached on Day, and had usurped a part of its empire! The equilibrium of day and night was at once re-established and with it the order of Nature. A new order of things, as beautiful as the first one recommences, and the Earth, fecundated by the heat of the Sun, which has resumed the vigour of its youth, beautifies herself again under the rays of her husband. It is not more the God of Day, sung by the birds, no, it is the God of Love, whose heavenly fire is kindled in the veins of all, that breathes the air, which has become purer and full of the principle of life. Already have the provident mothers chosen the tree, where to suspend their nest, which shall receive the fruit of their love, and which the nascent leaves shall shade, because Nature has again put on her adornments; the prairies their verdure, the woods their new headdresses, and the gardens their flowers. Earth is smiling again, and man forgets the sadness and the mourning, with which winter had covered it. It is Venus, who has found again her lost Adonis, and who while shining with beauty and new charms, is smiling at her lover, the conqueror of winter and of the shadows of night, who has finally risen from his tomb. The noisy winds have made room for the gentle Zephyrs, whose soft breath respects the tender leaves, which drink yet the dew, and which play gracefully over the cradle of the children of Spring; the rivers, while retiring to their beds, have resumed again their {p.115} tranquil and majestic course. The timid Naiad, comes out from the grottoes not more closed by ice; she is crowned with reeds and with flowers of aquatic plants, and leaning over her urn she lets the silvery wave flow out, which meanders through the meadows, in the midsts of verdure and flowers, watered and nourished by it. Earth, while ardent with love, adorns herself with her choicest ornaments, in order to receive her radiant spouse, with whom she consummates the grand act of generation of all beings, which emanate from her bosom. There is not one of these spectacles of Nature, which the genius of the ancient poets had not exerted itself with portraying; not one of the annual phenomena, which had not been described by the chanters of nature.

It is mainly in the first Canto of the poem of Nonnus on Bacchus or the Sun, where we shall find the contrasting spectacle, which the Earth presents in winter under the tyrannical sway of Typhon, the genius of Darkness, and in Spring, when the God of Light resumes his imperial power, and develops that active and fecundating force, which is manifested every year, when Nature awakes, and which, under the name of Bacchus causes to sprout from their germs and buds the delicious fruits, which autumn shall ripen.

Before we shall commence the analysis of the poem, in order to show its connection with the course of the Sun through the signs, we shall endeavour to eradicate the error of those, who might fancy, that Bacchus, the son of Semele, born at Thebes, is an ancient hero, whose glorious conquests in the East were the cause of his having been put in the rank of the Gods. There will be no difficulty to prove that he is, like Hercules, also born at Thebes, nothing else but a physical being, the most powerful as well as the most beautiful agent of Nature, in other words the Sun, the soul of universal vegetation. This truth, which is established by many ancient authorities, will appear hereafter in a new light by the explanation of the poem, {p.116} the principal features of which have reference to the beneficent action of the luminary, which regulates the seasons, and which is invoked by Virgil under the name of Bacchus at the commencement of his poem. on agriculture. We attach so much more importance to the fact of proving, that Bacchus and Hercules were the God Sun, worshipped by all nations under many different names, as there will result from it an extremely precious inference; namely: that the history of Nature and its phenomena was written in ancient times, as we would write now that of men, and that the Sun especially, was the principal hero of the marvellous romances, about which ignorant posterity has been grossly deceived. Should the reader be well convinced of this truth, he will then easily admit our explanation of the solar legend, known by the Christians under the title of the life of Christ, which is only one of the thousand names of the God Sun, whatever may be the opinion of his worshippers about his existence as a man, because it will not prove anymore than that of the worshippers of Bacchus, who made of him a conqueror and a hero. Let us therefore first establish as an acknowledged fact, that the Bacchus, of the Greeks was merely a copy of the Osiris of the Egyptians, and that Osiris the husband of Isis, and worshipped in Egypt was the Sun. It has been sufficiently proved by the explanation, which we have given of the career of Isis, that she was the Moon and that the husband, she was in search of, was the Sun. The passage in Chaeremon, which we shall always recall to the mind of the reader, on account of its forming the basis of our whole system of explanations, supposes, that the fable of Isis and Osiris is a luni-solar fable. The testimonies of Diodorus of Sicily, of Iamblichus, of Plutarch, of Diogenes-Laërtius, of Suidas, of Macrobius, &c., agree in order to prove, that it was a generally acknowledged fact by all the Ancients, that it was the Sun, which the Egyptians worshipped under the name of Osiris, although in the poems and in the sacred le- {p.117} gends they made a King of him and a conqueror, who had formerly reigned in Egypt with the Queen Isis, his consort. Furthermore it is an established truth, recognized as such by all sages, that the Bacchus of the Greeks was the same as the Egyptian Osiris, and consequently the same God as the Sun. For that reason Antonius assumed the title of Osiris and Bacchus, and wanted that Cleopatra should be called Isis or the Moon. In our larger work will be found the explanation of the life of Osiris, which is made to correspond with the career of the Sun, so as not to leave the slightest doubt about the nature of this pretended history, which is proved to be entirely astronomical, and to represent the opposite course of the two great principles Light and Darkness, which under the name of Osiris or the Sun, and that of Typhon his enemy, were contending with each other in the World.

It is this sacred story of the Egyptians, which has passed into Greece under the name of the adventures of Bacchus, where some changes were made in it, which however left the traces of its filiations clearly perceptible. Herodotus, who was considered by the Greeks as the father of history, who, while travelling in Egypt, had collected carefully the sacred traditions of that country, which he often compares with those of the Greeks, assures us, that the Osiris of the Egyptians is the same divinity as that, which the Greeks adored under the name of Bacchus, and this was in conformity with the avowal of the Egyptians themselves, from whom the Greeks had borrowed most of their Gods. Herodotus expatiates largely on this filiations of worship, through the affinity of the ceremonial of the Phallephores, or feasts of the generation, which were celebrated in Egypt in honour of Osiris and in Greece in honour of Bacchus, He repeats it several times, that Osiris and Bacchus are one and the same God. Plutarch in his treatise on Isis, comes to the same conclusion. Amongst the many names, {p.118} which Martianus Capella and Ausonius give to the Sun, those of Osiris and Bacchus are enumerated.

Diodorus of Sicily alleges, that the Egyptians treated the Greeks as impostors, on account of their assertion, that Bacchus, the same as Osiris, had been born at Thebes in Eceotia, from the amours of Jupiter and Semele. This was, according to them, an officious falsehood of Orpheus, who, whilst he had been initiated into the mysteries of this God in Egypt, introduced this worship into Boeotia, and in order to flatter the Thebans, made them believe, that Bacchus or Osiris was born there. The people, which is easily deceived everywhere, and besides being jealous of the fame, that the new God was a Greek, received with eagerness his initiations.

The mythologists and the poets supported this tradition, accredited it on the stage, and ended with cheating posterity to such a degree, that it had no more the slightest doubt about the certainty of this forged story. That is the way, by which the Greeks, according to the Egyptians, had appropriated to themselves the Gods, which were worshipped in Egypt many centuries before. It is thus that they made Hercules to be born amongst them, although Hercules was an Egyptian Divinity, the worship of which had been established at Thebes in Egypt many centuries before the epoch, at which the birth of the pretended son of Alcmene had been fixed; they likewise appropriated to themselves Perseus, whose name had been in olden times famous in Egypt.

Without stopping here in order to examine, how and at what epoch the worship of the Egyptian Divinities had passed into Greece, we shall limit ourselves to state as a fact, acknowledged by all the ancients, that the beneficent Osiris of the Egyptians is the same as the Bacchus of the Greeks, and finally to come to the conclusion, that in as much as Osiris is the Sun, that Bacchus is also the Sun; which is sufficient for the purpose, we have taken in hand. The explanation of the {p.119} poem of the Dionysiacs shall be the final evidence to prove this truth.

ANALYSIS OF THE POEM OF NONNUS,
CONSIDERED IN ITS AFFINITIES WITH THE COURSE OF NATURE
IN GENERAL, AND IN PARTICULAR WITH THAT OF THE SUN.

The poet commences with an invocation of the Muse, which shall inspire him, and invites her to sing the flashing thunderbolt, which caused Semele to be delivered amidst fire and lightning, filling the child-bed of this indiscreet mistress with a brilliant light, also the birth of Bacchus, who was born twice.

After the invocation, the poet directs the mind of the reader to that part of Heaven, whence the Sun starts at the time, when he commences his poem. That place is the equinoctial point of Spring, occupied by the image of the famous Bull, which plays a conspicuous figure in the charming fiction of the amours of Jupiter and Europa, the sister of Cadmus or of the Serpentarius, which then rises in the evening in aspect with the Bull. He directs it also to the celestial Charioteer, carrying the Goat and the Kids, he who furnishes his attributes to the God Pan, and who then preceded in the morning the chariot of the Sun and opened the gate to the Day, as the Serpentarius opened it to the Night, at the epoch, when the Sun or Jupiter was in conjunction with the Bull of Europa, and made the famous passage which separated the empire of the God of Light from that of Darkness. The poet fixes thus in a precise manner the starting point of his poem, signalizing the Stars, which inside and outside the zodiac, determine the epoch of the time, which he prepares to sing. Let us see, how the genius of the poet undertook to embellish the simple basis, which astronomy furnished. Nonnus entered into the matter by describing with all its circumstances the rape of {p.120} Europa by Jupiter in the disguise of a Bull and the course of the Serpentarius or Cadmus, who was ordered by his father to go in search of his sister across the seas. The whole of this astronomical adventure is poetically described. Jupiter is seen as a Bull on the shores of Tyre, his head adorned with magnificent horns, which he is proudly agitating, while he fills the air with his amorous lowing. The imprudent Europa presents him flowers; she adorns his head with it; she dares to sit on the back of the God, subjugated to her by Love, and who instantly carries her away in the midst of the waves. Europa grows pale; and terrified she raises her hands to Heaven; yet nevertheless her dress is not even wet by the waves. She might have been taken for Thetis, for Galathea, for the wife of Neptune, and even for Astarte or Venus carried on the back of some Triton. Neptune is astonished at the sight of the immortal Bull, swimming in his empire, and one of the marine Gods, recognizing Jupiter under that disguise, takes his shell and blows the hymenial chants. Meanwhile the new spouse of the master of Olympus, holding on to the horns of the divine Bull, was navigating in the midst of the foaming waves not without fear, although under the auspices of Love, serving her as pilot, while a soft breeze filled the lappets of her flowing dress. On his arrival at Crete, Jupiter divests himself of his alarming forms of a Bull, and takes the figure of the God of Spring or of a beautiful young man, who has all the graces and vigour of that age. Under this form he lavishes his caresses upon his confused and weeping mistress; he plucks the first fruits of the flowers, of which Love is jealous, and she became the mother of twins.

Her lover leaves her in the hands of Asterion, and places the Bull, the forms of which he had taken in his metamorphosis, amongst the Stars. This is that Bull, says Nonnus, which shines in Olympus beneath the feet of the charioteer and which serves as a conveyance to the Sun of Spring.

{p.121} Meanwhile Cadmus had followed the track of the ravisher of his sister, who had disappeared with her amidst the waves. And actually, after the setting of the Sun in conjunction with the celestial Bull, the Serpentarius Cadmus is seen rising in the East, having travelled all night over the vault of Heaven, and descending in the morning into the same one sea, where the Bull with the Sun had set in the evening.

The supposition is, that after having journeyed for some time, lie had arrived near the dark cavern, where Jupiter had deposited his thunderbolt, when he wanted to create Tantalus. This last name is that under which the same Serpentarius is represented in another fable, and his rising in Autumn, at the time when the thunder ceases to be heard, gave the idea to the poets to feign, that Jupiter had quit his thunderbolt, in order to call him into life. In our larger work, at the article Serpentarius, may be seen, how the fable of Tantalus is explained through him.

This place was called Ahrimes, where Typhoeus or Typhon, son of the dark region, discovered it, informed as he was by the smoke rising from the cavern, where the scarcely extinguished thunderbolt, was laying. He seizes it, and proud of being the possessor of the mighty weapon of the King of Olympus, he makes all the surrounding echoes resound with the terrible roar of his voice. Immediately all the Dragons, his brethren, under the most hideous forms, join him in order to make war on the God, who maintains the harmony of the World and showers upon us all the blessings, of which Light is the principal one. The Giant shakes with his thousand arms vehemently the pole and the Bears, which defend it; lie dealt heavy and terrible blows to Bootes, the herdsman and guardian of the Bears. The Morning Star, Aurora, the Hours, all are rudely assaulted; the light of Day is obscured by the dense shadow projected by the horrible heads of hair of the Giants, which is {p.122} formed of black serpents. The full Moon, as in the passion of Christ, finds itself placed in the neighbourhood of the Sun, and the reign of the two luminaries is blended. One of the serpents coils itself round the pole, and mixes its nodes with those of the celestial Dragon, the guardian of the apples of the Hesperides. The poet expatiates at large on this picture, where he describes the Prince of Darkness, who makes several assaults on the different Stars, on the Sun and the Moon, like the dragon in the Apocalypse, which tears away a portion of the Stars of Heaven with its tail. All that. section of the poem contains merely the poetical development of the wars of Ahriman against Ormuzd, of the Titans against Jupiter, of the rebel Angels and their leader against God and his Angels. The original foundation of all those fictions is to be found in the Cosmogony of the Persians, and in the mythological tale of the battle of their God, the principle of Good and of Light against the Prince of Evil and of Darkness. These theological ideas, as we have already observed are, according to Plutarch, to be found with all nations, and are consecrated in their theological romances, also in their mysteries. Thus we see in the Cosmogony of the Persians, the Prince of Darkness, under the name of Ahriman, penetrating the Heavens in the form of the Dragon. Heaven itself in resisting him, finds in the Stars as many warriors, ready to fight in common against the enemy of Goodness and of Light. There may also be seen the Dews or the evil Genii, the companions of Ahriman, which, like the monsters here, the brothers of Typhon, assail the fixed Stars, the Elements, the Earth, the Water, and the Mountains.

After his fight with Heaven, Typhon descends to the Earth and destroys its products; le also assails the Mountains, the Seas, and the Rivers; he tears off whole islands, and flings the fragments violently against Heaven. A new Jupiter he also tries to hurl the thunderbolt, which remains harmless and {p.123} without noise in his impotent hands. His arms have not the necessary nerve to sustain its weight, and the fires of thunder are extinguished, the moment that they are not more upheld by the divine power, which darts them.

The poet, after this description, which is here given in an abridged form, paints Cadmus as arriving near the habitations of Typhon, and where Jupiter had left his thunderbolt exposed to surprise. There he is met by the lover of Europa, accompanied by Pan. It will be recollected that Pan represents here the Charioteer Goat carrier, which rises in the morning with the Sun of the Bull at the entry of Spring, at the time, when Jupiter wanted to let the sound of his thunderbolt to be heard again, after having been silenced by Winter. This is the foundation of the fiction.

Jupiter invites Cadmus to disguise himself in order to deceive Typhon, and to retake from him his thunderbolt, in other words and without metaphor, that the Serpentarius Cadmus and the Charioteer Pan are to form a conjunction by their aspect with the equinoctial Bull, in order to announce the return of Spring and the periodical victory, which the God of Light and of the long Days obtains every year at that epoch, over the Prince of Darkness and of the long Nights, or of Jupiter Aegiochus alias Jupiter Goat carrier, over the great Dragon, which the Serpentarius in the Heavens presses with his hands, and which brought back every year Darkness and Winter.

Jupiter proposes to Cadmus to take the dress of Pan, his flute and his goat, and to build himself a hut, into which he would attract Typhon by the harmonious sounds of his flute. "Sing, said he, dear Cadmus, &c., and you shall restore to the Heavens their primary serenity. Typhon has stolen my thunderbolt. Nothing is left to me but my Aegis; but of what avail can it be to me, against the mighty fires of the thunder? Be shepherd for one day, and let thy flute be the {p.124} means to restore to the eternal shepherd of the World his empire. Your services shall not remain without recompense; you shall be the Redeemer of the harmony of the Universe, and the beautiful Harmony, the daughter of Mars and of the Goddess of Spring, shall be thy wife." Thus spoke Jupiter, and goes in the direction of the summit of Mount Taurus. Cadmus, disguised as a shepherd, and leaning against an oak in an easy position, makes the surrounding forests re-echo with the harmonious sounds of his flute. Typhon is beguiled by the charm; he approaches the place, where he hears these seductive sounds, and leaves the thunderbolt in the cave, where he had found it, and hides it there. At the moment, that Cadmus perceives him drawing, nearer to the forest, he feigns to be afraid and as if he wanted to flee. The Giant reassures him and invites him to continue his melodies, by making him the most magnificent promises. Cadmus continues to play, and flatters Typhon with the hope of still more wonderful melodies, if he would give him the sinews of Jupiter, which had fallen during the fight of this God with Typhon, and which the latter had kept. His request is granted, and the shepherd stores them away, as if to adapt them for the future to his lyre, but with the intention of restoring them to Jupiter after the defeat of the Giants. Cadmus softens still more the sounds of his magic flute and charms the airs of Typhon, who listens with an attention, which nothing can disturb.

In that moment when all the senses of the Giant were as if held in chains by these harmonious strains, Jupiter approaches stealthily the cave, the hiding place of his thunderbolt, and under cover of a dense cloud, overspreading the grotto and Cadmus, in order to conceal him from the vengeance of the Giant, he repossesses himself of it. Cadmus ceases to play {p.125} and disappears from the sight of Typhon, who fearing to have been duped, runs to the cave in order to look for the thunderbolt, which he finds to have disappeared. Then he is made aware, but a little too late, of the stratagem, which has been played by Jupiter and Cadmus. In his rage he wants to make a rush on Olympus. The convulsive movements of his fury make the Universe tremble. He shakes the foundations of the mountains; he agitates by violent shocks the shores; he makes forests and caverns re-echo with a horrible uproar and carries devastation in all the countries adjoining his dwelling place. The Nymphs in tears seek refuge at the bottom of their dried up rivers and hide themselves amongst the reeds. The terrified shepherds are wandering in confusion about the fields, throwing away their flutes. The ploughman leaves his oxen in the midst of the furrow; the uprooted trees cover with their fragments the devastated country.

Meanwhile Phteton had conducted his tired team to the western shore, and Night had covered Earth and Heaven with her gloomy veil, The Gods were then wandering about on the shores of the Nile, while Jupiter on the summit of mount Taurus, was awaiting the return of Aurora. It was night, and the sentinels were posted at the gates of Olympus.

Old Bootes, always with his eyes open, and having near him the celestial Dragon, was watching the nocturnal attacks, which might be attempted by Typhon, the father of this Dragon.

I shall here observe, that the poet describes exactly the position of the sphere at the setting in of the night, which precedes the day of the triumph of the vernal Sun. In the West, Phteton or the Charioteer may be seen, whose name is also one of the titles of the Sun; and in the East, Bootes or the herdsman and the Dragon.

The whole Universe represented then the image of an immense camp, in which each part of personified Nature was fil- {p.126} ling some office and executed some of those things, which are carried on at night in the fields. The stars and meteors were the lights which illuminated it.

The Goddess of Victory, under the configuration of the mother of the Sun and the Moon, finally comes to the succour of Jupiter, bringing arms to the father of the immortals. She demonstrates to him the dangers, with which all parts of his empire are menaced and exhorts him to fight his rival. Night had suspended in that moment the attacks of the enemy; Typhon, sinking overwhelmed with sleep, covered an immense extent of ground with his enormous body. Jupiter alone, in Nature, did not sleep. Aurora however soon returns with day and with it new dangers arise. At sunrise Typhon opens his large mouth and utters such an awful roar, that all the echoes resound. He challenges the Chief of the Gods to the fight; he threatens and vomits forth the most abusive language against him and against the immortals. He meditates the senseless project of erecting upon the ruins of the World a new Heaven, infinitely more beautiful than that, which Jupiter inhabits, and to have forged more formidable thunderbolts than his. He would, he says, people the Olympus with a new race of Gods, and he would force the Virgin to become mother.

Jupiter, escorted by Victory, hears these threats and audacious challenge with a contemptuous smile. They prepare for the fight, the price of which was the empire of the Heavens. Here follows a long description of that terrible battle fought between the Chiefs of Light and of Darkness under the names of Jupiter and Typhon. At the moment of the crisis, which shall secure the triumph of the first over the second, Typhon heaps up mountains and uproots trees, which he hurls at Jupiter. One spark from the thunderbolt of the King of the Gods reduces everything to dust. The Universe is shaken in its innermost by this terrible struggle. Terror and Fear fight {p.127} alongside with Jupiter, and arm themselves with the lightning, which precedes the thunderbolt. Typhon looses a hand in the battle: it falls without letting go its hold of a whole quarter of a rock, which he was in the act of throwing. The Giant, with the hollow of his other hand, draws water from the rivers, with the intention of putting out the fires of the thunderbolt, but it is of no avail. He obstructs Jupiter with enormous rocks, who upsets them with his breath. Attack led on all sides and burnt with the fire of the thunderbolt, Typhon finally succumbs, and covers the soil with his enormous body, vomiting forth flames from his thunder stricken breast. Jupiter triumphs over his defeat insultingly by a speech replete with bitter sarcasm. The echoes of Taurus proclaim the victory. The effect of this triumph was to render peace, order and serenity to the Heavens and to restore the harmony of Nature. The Lord of thunder returns to Heaven, carried in his chariot; Victory is guiding his coursers; the Hours open to him the gates of Olympus; and Themis in order to terrify Earth, which had given birth to Typhon, suspends in the vaults of Heaven the thunder-stricken Giant. Such is the summary of the two first Cantos of the poem.

The theological and astronomical foundation is the following. Each victory presupposes a contest, as every resurrection presupposes a death: hence the deduction, that the ancient theologians and poets, who celebrated in songs the passage of the Sun to the equinoctial point, and the triumph of the long days over the winter nights, be it under the name of the triumph of Jupiter and of Ormuzd, or under that of the resurrection of Osiris and Adonis, preceded it always either by a conflict, from which the God of Light came out victorious, or by a death and a tomb, from which he escaped by re-assuming a new life. The astronomical forms, which were taken by the God of Light and by the Prince of Darkness, namely the Bull and afterwards the Lamb on one side, and the Serpent and the {p.128} Dragon on the other, formed the attributes of the opposing Chiefs in this contest. The constellations placed outside of the Zodiac, which were connected with this celestial position, and which defined this important epoch, were also personified and put on the stage. Such are here the Charioteer or Pan, who also accompanies Osiris in his conquests, and Cadmus or the Serpentarius. The two Cantos, which we have been analysing, contain therefore nothing else but a poetical description' of the contest between the two principles, which it is presumed to precede the time, when the Sun at the equinox of spring, or at Easter, under the names of Jupiter, of Ormuzd, of Christ, &c., triumphs over the God of Winter and regenerates whole Nature. The g 3nius of the poet has invented the rest: hence the variety of poems and legends, in which this physical fact has been sung.

Nonnus supposes here, that the God of Light had no more thunder bolts during the winter; they were in possession of the Chief of Darkness, who himself could not use them. But during the time, that Jupiter, is deprived of it, his enemy destroys and disorganizes everything in Nature, confounds the Elements, and covers the Earth. with mourning, darkness and death, until the Charioteer and the Goat rises in the morning and the Serpentarius in the evening; this happens at the time when the Sun reaches the celestial Bull, of which Jupiter took the disguise, in order to deceive Europa, the sister of Cadmus. Then the God of Day re-enters again into all his rights, and re-establishes the harmony of Nature, which the Genius of Darkness had destroyed. This is the idea which naturally ushers in the triumph of Jupiter, and is presented to us by the poet in commencing the third Canto of his poem on the Seasons or the Dionysiacs.

The contest, says Nonnus, ends with winter: the Bull and Orion rise and shine on an azure sky; no longer rolls the Massagettes his ambulatory cabin on the ice of the Danube, already sings the returned swallow the arrival of Spring, and interrupts in the morning the sleep of the husband can under his hospitable roof, the chalice of the nascent flowers opens to the nourishing juices of the dew, which falls during the happy season of the Zephyrs. These are in substance the contents of the first fifteen verses of the Canto, which follows immediately the defeat of the Prince of Darkness and of Winter.

Meanwhile Cadmus embarks and goes to the palace of Electra, one of the Pleiades or of the Stars, which rise before the Sun, at the entrance of Spring; it is there where young Harmony was brought up, whom Jupiter had destined him for wife. Emathion or the Day, the son of Electra, a young Prince of charming exterior came to visit his mother. The Goddess of Persuasion, the first of the maids of honour of Harmony, introduces Cadmus at the palace o Electra, under the auspices of the Goddess of Sprig or of Venus. Cadmus is favourably received by Electra, who had a magnificent dinner prepared for him, and inquires about the object of his voyage. The stranger gives satisfactory answers. Meanwhile Mercury had been despatched by Jupiter to Electra. in order to notify her of his wishes on the subject of the marriage of Cadmus with Harmony, the daughter of Mars and of Venus, whose education had been entrusted to her by the Hours and the Seasons. The salutation, with which Mercury addresses the mother of the Prince of Day or of Emnathion, has a great resemblance to that, with which Gabriel, in the solar fable of the Christians, addresses the mother of the God of Light.

{p.130} This is the summary of the astronomical basis, on which rests the whole of this third Canto. Winter has ended, and the Sun rises, in the morning carried on the Bull, preceded by the Pleiades and followed by Orion. In the West, the Serpentarius or Cadmus descends into the bosom of the waves, after having travelled all night over the space of Heaven, which separates the oriental from the occidental border. He finds himself then in aspect with the Pleiades and with Electra, which rise in the Orient with Day, described here under the emblem of a charming youth, brought up with Harmony at the epoch of the annual revolution, when the harmony of the Seasons in re-established in our climes. Such is the basis of the poetical fiction.

Having thus executed his message, Mercury re-ascends the Olympus. Electra calls Harmony aside, and communicates to her the will of Jupiter. At first the young Princess refuses to give her hand to a stranger, whom she thinks to be an adventurer. Her refusal is accompanied by tears, flowing from her beautiful eyes, which still more enhances the splendour of her beauty. But Venus, her mother, under the disguise of Persuasion, triumphs over her resistance and influences her to follow Cadmus anywhere he might conduct her. Harmony obeys, and embarks on board the vessel of Cadmus, which is waiting for him on the seashore. The vernal winds gently swell the sails and carry the two lovers to the shores of Greece.

One of the first cares of Cadmus on his landing, is to consult the oracle of Delphi: he is informed that the Bull, which had carried off his sister, was not a terrestrial animal, but that it is the Bull of Olympus; that it would be useless for him, to go in search of it any longer on Earth. The God in- {p.131} vites him, to give up his enquiries, and to settle in Greece, where he should build a city, which should bear the name of the Thebes of Egypt his country; he adds, that the place, where he shall lay its foundations, would be indicated to him by a divine cow, which would repose there. Scarcely had Cadmus left the temple, when he perceived the sacred animal which becomes his guide, and which conducts him to the place, where Orion perished from the sting of a scorpion: there the cow laid down to rest. This, it will be observed, is a manifest allusion to the setting of the celestial sign, where some paint a Bull and others a Cow, and under which and with which Orion sets, at the rising of the celestial scorpion, a sign which is in opposition to him. This is the celestial phenomenon, which the poet has sung ill this fable. As the scorpion has also placed the Serpentarius above it, ascending with it at the setting of the Bull, the fable supposes, that Cadmus is going to immolate the latter. But he wants water for his sacrifice; he goes in search of some at a fountain, defended by a monstrous dragon, a son of Mars or of the God, who presides over the sign on which Cadmus is. This is a manifest allusion to the polar Dragon, placed above Cadmus, who ascends with him, and which is called in astronomy the Dragon of Cadmus: this is the Dragon of the Hesperides in the fable, where the Serpentarius is taken for Hercules; this is Python in the fable of Apollo; it is the same, which is killed by Jason in the fable of Jason, which we are soon going to explain. The monster devours several of the companions of Cadmus. Minerva comes to the rescue of the hero; she commands him to kill the Dragon, and to sow its teeth; the same as Jason does. Cadmus kills the Dragon, and from the teeth which he sowed, Giants spring up, who very soon kill each other. It will be here observed, that in all the solar fictions, the design of which is to paint, under a great many different names, the triumph of the God of Spring {p.132} over the Genius of Winter and of Darkness, there is always at this epoch a defeat of the great Dragon, which is the enemy of the triumphant hero, and it is always by the polar Dragon, or by that, which each year announces Autumn and Winter, that every one of these fables are explained. We shall have occasion to remind the reader of this observation, in our explanation of the Apocalypse.

Cadmus, after this victory, makes his sacrifice, in which le immolates the animal, which had served him as a guide, the same as Bacchus in other fables immolates the animal the Ram, which had also served him as a guide, and which is in the Heavens next to the Bull. Afterwards, he lays the foundations of a city, which retraces on a small scale the universal harmony of the World; this is the Thebes of Boetia, bearing the same name as that, which Osiris had founded in Egypt, and where he had built a temple to Jupiter Hainlon, or to the God of Light, which was worshipped under the figure of the celestial Ram, and which was the father of Bacchus. In the fables on' Hercules or on the Sun, it is alleged, that it was that hero, who was the builder of Thebes, after having defeated a tyrant;, who, like Orion, persecuted the Pleiades. These remarks are made with the object of reconciling these ancient solar fables, and to demonstrate their connection with that part of Heaven, where the Bull, the Ram, the Pleiades and Orion is to be found opposite to the Serpentarius, Hercules, Cadmus, &c., which by his rising in the evening announced every year the re-establishment of the harmony of the World, which is designated here under the emblem of a large city; this is the holy city of the Apocalypse. Cadmus built his city in a circular form, like a sphere. It was crossed {p.133} by streets in the direction of the four cardinal points of the World, or of the East, the West, the South and the North; it had as many gates as there were planetary spheres. Each one of these gates was consecrated to a planet. The Jerusalem of the Apocalypse, a fiction of the same style, had twelve, which number is equal to that of the signs; it was built after the defeat of the great Dragon.

This distribution in the new city, (which was built, unlike that of the Apocalypse under the auspices of the Lamb, but under those of the equinoctial Bull, which preceded the Lamb at the point of the departure of the spheres and of Spring, and which represented the World with its principal divisions and the whole system of the universal harmony,) originated the fiction, which supposes, that Thebes had been built at the sound of the Lyre of Amphion and of Zethes, placed in the sign which is setting after the Bull. It was in this city, where Cadmus celebrated his nuptials with the beautiful Harmony: all the Gods were there present' and bestowed gifts on the newly married couple. These gifts are those, with which Heaven adorns the Earth at this important epoch of the regeneration of the World and of the periodical vegetation, which is the fruit of the re-established harmony by the God of Spring in all parts of Nature. From this. hymen, Semele was born, the mother of that beneficent God, who during Summer is spreading his precious gifts over our whole hemisphere, and who shall give us those delicious fruits, which Autumn ripens; in conclusion of that Bacchus, the father of Mirth, of Games and of Enjoyments.

As each revolution brings about a new order of things, replacing the former, the poet relates in this canto the unfortunate adventures of the ancient Bacchus, who was torn to pieces {p.134} by the Titans and the Giants, and whose death had been avenged by Jupiter by the destruction of the ancient World and by the deluge. After a full description of this great catastrophe, so famous in all the sacred legends, and which only existed in the imagination of the poets and of the priests, who have drawn from it great advantages, Nonnus announces the birth of the God, who shall teach to men the cultivation of the vine. This discovery is attributed in the Jewish fables to Noah, who like Bacchus, made a present of it to mankind after the deluge; and in the Thassalian fables to a Highland Prince, or to Orestes, the son of Deucalion, whose name indicates an allusion to those hills, on which this precious shrub grows.

Here begins the tale of the courtship of Jupiter with the daughter of Cadmus, the mother of the second Bacchus, who himself shall bring about afterwards the birth of a third one, which shall be born to him by the beautiful Aura or Zephyr.

In commencing this canto, the poet presents us Love, as occupied in repairing the ruins of the World: mankind had been until then the prey of gnawing cares. The wine, which dissipates the gloomy thoughts and troubles of the mind, had not yet been presented to man; it was only after the deluge, that Bacchus was born, or that God, who is the father of that joyfulness, which wine inspires. Prometheus ravished merely the fire from the Gods: he ought to have stolen from them the nectar in preference; he would have thereby softened the sensation of the evils, which the fatal box of Pandora had spread over the Earth. These reflections are presented to Jupiter by the God of Time, who, while holding the keys of ages, is begging the Lord of the Gods, to come to the relief of mankind. Jupiter lends a willing [ear to him, and wishes that {p.135} his son should be the redeemer of the misfortunes of the World, the Bacchus Saviour. He promises to the Earth a liberator and he already announces his high destiny. The Universe shall worship him and shall praise in songs his blessings. After having brought solace to the misfortunes of mankind, notwithstanding the resistance, which he shall experience from it, he shall afterwards ascend to Heaven, in order to sit at the side of his father.

In order to execute his promise, Jupiter makes love to a young maiden, the beautiful Semele, whom be deceives, by making her the mother of the new liberator. Semele, the daughter of Cadmus was taking her bath in the waters of the Asopus, Jupiter smitten with her beautiful forms, insinuates himself into her good graces and engenders Bacchus. He soon makes himself known to his love, he consoles her and gives her hopes that at a future day she shall take her place in the Heavens.

Jupiter re-ascends to the Olympus, and leaves the daughter of Cadmus enceinte at the palace of her father. But Envy, under the disguise of Mars, provokes the spouse of Jupiter against her: the jealous Juno only thinks of vengeance against her rival. She interests the Goddess of Cunning in her schemes, and she requests her services. Armed with the girdle of Juno, the former introduces herself into the apartment of Semele, under the disguise of the old nurse of Cadmus. She feigns the greatest sympathy and concern for the fate of the young Princess, whose reputation is publicly assailed; she asks her, if it was true, that her honour had been ravished, who the mortal or the God was, who had obtained her first favours; she insinuates, that if she had been deceived under the form of Jupiter, she could not do better in order to {p.136} assure herself, if that God was really her lover, than to invite him to visit her in all his majesty and armed with the thunderbolt; that in these traits she could not fail to recognize him. Young Semele, deceived by this perfidious speech, and blinded by indiscreet ambition, asked her lover to grant her this transcendent mark of his love for her. I have not yet seen, she says, the majestic splendour of the God, who casts the thunderbolt. I wish in our love more dignity and more splendour. Jupiter is greatly afflicted by this request, the consequences of which are well known to him. He remonstrates to her the dangers, to which she would expose herself, if he should condescend to gratify her desire; but all is useless: he is forced to accede to her request. While the unlucky Semele, drunk with pride and joy, wants to touch the thunderbolt of the Lord of the Gods, she drops down consumed by its fire. Her son is saved from the combustion, which consumes the mother. Mercury is careful to save him from the devouring element and restores him to Jupiter, who places his unfortunate mistress in the Heavens.

In the meantime the Lord of the Gods deposits young Bacchus in his thigh, until the foetus had arrived at maturity; and then he draws him out into daylight. At the moment of his birth the Hours and the Seasons are ready to receive him, and they place on his head a crown of ivy. Mercury bears him in his arms across the air, and entrusts him to the Water nymphs, doubtless to the Hyads, which are placed at the head of the equinoctial Bull, and which were, as it is said, the nurses of Bacchus. But Juno, whose hatred against the children of Jupiter has no bounds, renders these Nymphs insane: Mercury is obliged to take the child from them, and to entrust it to Juno, the daughter of Cadmus and sister of Semele, who {p.137} brings him up with Palemon her son. This new nurse is again the object of the hatred of Juno, and Mercury takes Bacchus again away, in order to place him under the protection of the mistress of Atys or of Cybele, who has to take care of his education. The solar fable on the God of the Christians presumes likewise, that he is persecuted from the time of 1his birth.

All the rest of this canto contains an episodical treatise, in which the poet describes the terrible effect of the vengeance of Juno against the unhappy Juno, who had received Bacchus, and who with all her family became the victim of it. This episodical fragment extends over a portion of the following canto.

After that long episode, we are brought back by the poet to Lydia, in order to witness the education, which young Bacchus receives there. We see him play here with the Satyrs and bathing himself in the waters of the Pactolus—the green shores of which are enamelled with flowers. Here, while playing on the hills of Phrygia, he becomes acquainted with a young Satyr, called Ampelus or the Vine. The poet gives us a picture of this charming child and his nascent gracefulness, which inspires Bacchus with the liveliest interest. It is necessary to remind the reader of the allegory, prevailing throughout this part of the canto, about the coquetries of the God of Vintage with the vine, which is personified here under the name of young Ampelus, who played with Bacchus on the hillocks of Phrygia, teeming with grapes. Bacchus accosts him, and is told the most flattering things; he questions him about his birth, and ends by saying, that he knows him, and that he is informed, that he is the son of the Sun and of the Moon, or of the two luminaries, which regulate vegetation. Bacchus falls in love with him. He is content only, when he is in his com- {p.138} pany and feels unhappy when he is absent. The love of the Vine is everything with him: he requests Jupiter to unite him to his fate. Here the poet describes their sports and amusements. Bacchus takes pleasure in permitting to be vanquished in his exercises. Ampelus is always victorious, be it in wrestling or in running. In the latter exercise young Press and young Ivy enter the lists with young Vine, and it is the latter who obtains the victory over his competitors.

Nonnus has expressed here in a poetical allegory, what Diodorus says more simply and without ornaments, when he speaks of Bacchus, that he discovered amidst the sports of childhood the precious shrub, which bears the grape and the delicious fruit, from which he expressed the first juice. This custom of treating poetically an idea, in itself very simple, and to give it a large development in a series of allegories, was peculiar to the genius of the ancient priests and poets, who composed sacred songs, in which everything was personified. This single trait reveals to us at once the original character of the whole of ancient mythology. Such was its style.

The poet, in this eleventh Canto, continues his description of the sports and of the different exercises, with which young Bacchus and his friends fill their leisure hours. The third exercise is that of swimming. Bacchus and his young favourite plunge into the waters of the Pactolus. Ampelus or the Vine is victorious. The young victor, encouraged by these successes, has the imprudence of evincing a desire, to compete with the animals of the forest. Bacchus warns him of. the risks he runs, and advises him to avoid, above all, the horns of the bull; but these remonstrances are useless. A malignant Goddess, plotting his ruin, invites him to mount a bull, which had come from the mountains, in order to quench his thirst [p.139} in the river. With youthful fool-hardiness he attempts to mount and conduct this animal, which is rendered furious by the sting of an ox fly. Ampelus is soon thrown down, and dies of his fall. All the details of this unfortunate event are interestingly described by Nonnus. Bacchus is inconsolate and bedews with tears the corpse of his friend; he covers it with roses and lilies, and pours into its wounds the juice of ambrosia, which had been given him by Rhea, and which, since the metamorphosis of Ampelus in the Vine, has been the means of giving to its fruit a delicious flavour. Even in death, the youthful friend of Bacchus is still of ravishing beauty. Bacchus cannot satiate his eyes to look on it, and gives utterance to his grief in heart-rending accents.

Love, disguised as Silenus, with the tyrus in hand comes to console the God of the Vintage, and exhorts him to court again a new sweetheart, which shall make him forget the lost friend. He tells him on this occasion a very pretty fable, containing a physical allegory on the stem of the wheat and on the fruit, which are there personified under the names of Calamus and of Carpus; however, nothing can calm the grief of Bacchus. Meanwhile the Seasons, daughters of the Year, go to pay a visit at the palace of the Sun, of which the poet gives a brilliant description.

The Seasons lay their requests before Jupiter, and one of them, Autumn, prays, that she may not be left alone without a function and to be charged with the care of ripening the new fruit, which the vine shall produce. The God gives her hopes and points with the finger to the tablets of Harmony, containing the destinies of the World. There she sees, that Destiny had granted the vine and the grapes to Bacchus, as it had granted the ears of corn to Ceres, the olive tree to Minerva and the laurel to Apollo.

{p.140} Meanwhile Fate, in order to console Bacchus, informs him, that his dear Ampelus was not entirely dead; that he should not pass the black Acheron, and that he would become for the mortals the source of a delicious liquor, which shall be the consolation of mankind, and which shall be on earth the image of that nectar, which is the beverage of the Gods. Scarcely had the Goddess finished speaking, when a surprising miracle happened before the eyes of Bacchus. A sudden metamorphosis changed the corps of his friend into a flexible shrub, which bears the grape. The new shrub, which he calls by the name of his friend, is covered with a black fruit, which Bacchus squeezes between his fingers and the juice of which he causes to flow into an Ox-horn, which serves him as a drinking cup. During this interval young Cissus or Ivy is also metamorphosed in another shrub, which clings to his friend by embracing with its long folds the Vine, into which Ampelus had been changed. Bacchus tasted the new liquor and rejoices over his discovery; he apostrophises the manes of his friend, whose death has prepared the felicity of mankind. The wine, says he, shall be hereafter the sovereign remedy against all the sorrows of the mortals. This is the allegorical origin, which the poet gives to the Vine, which he represents to us as the result of the metamorphosis of a child, the favourite of Bacchus. It is to be presumed, that nobody will be tempted to take this tale for real history.

After the discovery of the Vine by Bacchus, nothing else remained, in order to maintain the character of a beneficent God, which the Sun takes under the names of Osiris and Bacchus, but to carry this precious present over the whole Universe. Here therefore, commences the tale of the travels of Bacchus, who like the Sun in its annual movement, shall direct his course from Occident to Orient, or like the Seasons against the order of the signs. All that which preceded must therefore be taken merely as an introduction to the story of {p.141} that great action, which forms the sole subject of the poem. So far we did not go out of the limits of the equinox of Spring, where Bacchus takes the form of the Bull, or of that, which was then the first of the signs. Here he remained surrounded by Pan and Satyrs, or of Genii, which borrow their attributes from the Goat, placed over the Bull; it is at that epoch, when the shrub grows, which shall give in autumn the fruits of Ampelus or of the Vine, and the delicious liquor, of which Bacchus is the father.

Jupiter sends Isis to the place of Cybele, where Bacchus was brought up, in order to intimate to him the order of marching against the Indians and to fight the Prince of Strife or Deriades their King, who would oppose the progress of his power, and of the blessings, which he was bringing to all men, Iris executed the will of the Lord of the Gods, and after she has tasted the new liquor, which Bacchus presents to her, she re-ascends to the Heavens. Cybele sends immediately for the leader of her choirs and dances in order to gather the army, which shall march under the command of Bacchus. Amongst the leaders or Captains, who join the banners of the God of grapes, many heroes are conspicuous, who are met with again in the poem on the Argonauts, and there is principally remarked the ordinary court retinue of Cybele, which resembles a great deal to that of the mysteries of Bacchus. Emathion, or the Prince of Day, brings him his warriors from Samothrace. The rest of the song contains the enumeration, of the different nations of Asia minor, which range themselves under the banners of Bacchus.

In this canto the poet proceeds to give us the enumeration of the Heroes, the demi-gods and the Genii, sent by Cybele {p.142} to accompany the son of Semele, such as the Cabiri, the Dactyli, the Corybantes, the Centaurs, the Telchines, the Satyrs, the sons of the Hyades, his nurses, &c., moreover the Oread Nymphs, the Bacchantes. Afterwards he gives us a description of the armour of Bacchus and of his raiment, which represent the image of Heaven and its Stars. Our hero quits the abode of Cybele, and marches towards the places, occupied by the Indians. The report of the thunderbolt is already heard, portending his victory.

We are carried by the poet to the Summer solstice and to the most elevated point of the course of the Sun, which corresponds with the sign of the Lion, the rise of which is preceded by that of the Cancer, which the Sun crosses before it reaches the Lion, the place of its domicile and the seat of its great power. The name of the Cancer is Astacos: the poet changes it to that of a river in Asia, the Astacus, which actually flows in Bythinia. As the solstice is the place, where the Star of Day obtains its greatest triumph, the poet supposes, that he has made there the conquest of a young Nymph called Victory, who had a Lion at her feet; and because the solstice is the limit of the ascending movements of the Sun, he imagines that from the courtship of Bacchus with the Nymph Victory a child is born called Term or End. But the passage of the Cancer or of the Astacus is resisted by the people of India, or by that, which is placed under the tropic. It is necessary to give battle to the Chief of the people, called Astrais, whos3 name contains an allusion to the stars. It is after the defeat of the latter, that Bacchus finally finds the Nymph Victory, with whom he is united. The allegory is perceptible in all parts of this episode. In continuance, Nonnus gives us a picture of the audacious Indian ranging his forces in battle array on the shores of the Astacus, and on the opposite shore {p.143} the defiant attitude of the warriors under the leadership of Bacchus. The latter finally crosses the river, the water of which is changed into wine. One part of the Indian army is destroyed or put to flight; the other part, astonished of its defeat, drinks of the water of the river, which it takes for Nectar.

The fifteenth canto presents to us at first the spectacle of the Indian army making a rush for the shores of the river and of getting intoxicated from drinking freely of its waters. The poet gives us a minute description of all the effects of this intoxication, of the delirium and the sleep, which are its results, also the advantage which Bacchus reaps from it, by surprising a great number of them, whom he puts in irons. All the cantos which follow up to the fortieth, in which Prince Strife or Deriades is killed, contain the details of the various battles fought in this war, which alone occupies twenty-five cantos of the poem, of which it is the principal knot: because Deriades is the principle of resistance, which is opposed to the beneficent action of Bacchus: it is the Chief of the black people, who makes a terrible war against the God, the source of Goodness and of Light.

Bacchus, after having defeated the Indians on the shores of the Astacus and crossed the river, or, without figure, this sign, approaches a neighbouring forest, where dwelt a young nymph called Nike or Victory. This was a youthful huntress, who like Diana wished to preserve her virginity. She lived on a very steep rock, with a lion at her feet, which lowered before her in a respectful manner its terrible mane. Close by there lived also a young herdsman called Hymnus, who had fallen in love with her. Nice has no inclination to favour his wishes and repels his advances by shooting him with an arrow and killing this unhappy lover. The Nymphs bewail him and {p.144} Love swears to revenge him by subjecting this wild beauty to Bacchus: all Nature is afflicted by the untimely end of the unfortunate Hymnus. Here we recognize again an allegorical personage. The name of Hymnus or Song; the lover of Victory, indicates significantly the songs, which accompanied in olden times the triumph of the Sun and its arrival at the point of the Summer solstice.

The death of young Hymnus did not remain unpunished. Love shoots an arrow at Bacchus, who sees young Nice while bathing, and falls in love with her. He follows her everywhere and searches for her in the midst of the forests by means of his faithful dog, which Pan had given him, to whom he promised a place in the Heavens next to Syrius, or the celestial dog placed under the Lion, which announces the summer-solstice or the epoch of the victory of the Sun over the Lion. The youthful Nymph, tired of the chase, burnt from the heat of the Sun and thirsty, goes to the river in order to quench her thirst. Ignorant of the change, which had taken place with the waters, she drinks of it, becomes intoxicated and falls asleep. Love informs Bacchus of it, who profits of this lucky moment, in order to commit a rape, of which Pan himself is jealous. The Nymph awakes, and utters loud reproaches against Bacchus and against Venus. She deplores the loss of her virginity and goes in search of the ravisher in order to pierce him with her arrows; she wants even to kill herself. She is finally forced to quit her ancient forests, fearing to meet with Diana and to have to endure her reproaches. She gives birth to a daughter called Teletea; and Bacchus built in that place the city of Nicea or Victory.

Bacchus continues his march against the Indians and pursues his victories in Orient, with the equipment rather of a leader of feasts and games, thin with that of a warrior. He arrives at the placid shores of the Eudis, where he is received by the shepherd Bronchus or Gullet, to whom he gives a plant of the vine in order to cultivate it. He marches afterwards against Orontes, an Indian General, who was informed by Astrais of the trick played by Bacchus on the Indians, who defended the shores of the Astacus. Orontes was the father-in-law of the martial Deriades. Orontes animates his warriors by his example. He attacks Bacchus in person, but is repulsed with vigour. The desperate Indian pierces himself with his own sword, and falls into the river, which is called after him. The Nymphs bewail this unfortunate son of Hydaspes. Bacchus makes a terrible slaughter amongst, the Indians. Pan sings his victory, and Bleinys, the leader of the Indians presents himself with an Olive-branch, asking for peace. The Sun approaches the end of the summertime and of the season, which ripens the grapes. The poet, frequently is reminding us of this grand effect produced by Nature, through the arrival of Bacchus at the court of King Gripe, who reigned in Assyria. All the names used in this poetical tale will clearly indicate an allegorical feast, which has the vintage for object.

Fame had already spread in all Assyria, the report of the achievements of Bacchus. King Staphylus or Grape reigned over those countries. He had for son Prince Bunch of Grapes, for wife Methe or Inebriation, and for Majordomo of Pithos or Cask. In this Canto, Nonnus presents us the King and his son, mounted on a chariot, in order to welcome Bacchus, and {p.146} to invite him to accept their hospitality, which he does. The poet describes here the magnificent reception given to Bacchus by the King of Assyria, who parades before him all his wealth, and gives him a sumptuous dinner in his palace, a pompous description of which is also to be found there. Bacchus imparts to him his discovery of the new liquor: Queen Methe gets inebriated the first time she tastes it, also her husband Grape, her son Bunch of Grapes, and Cask their old domestic. All begin to dance.

Here the poem assumes a comical character, badly agreeing with the nobleness of the first Cantos, which had Astronomy and the system of the two principles for basis. It is no longer the Sun or the Chief of Light in his equinoctial triumph, which is here depicted: the poet has descended here from the Heavens, in order to follow on Earth the progress of vegetation, which is kept up by the powerful heat of the Sun.

All lay down to sleep. Bacchus is suddenly awakened from his sleep by a dream; he arms himself and calls the Satyrs to his assistance. King Grape, Prince Bunch and old faithful Cask are awakened by the noise; but Queen Methe or Inebriation continues to sleep. Staphylus, or King Grape escorts Bacchus; he makes him a present of a cup, and exhorts him to pursue the course of his victories, reminding him those of Jupiter over the Giants, and those of Perseus over the monster, to which Andromeda had been exposed. Bacchus sends a herald to the Chief of the Indians, in order to propose Jo him, either to accept his presents or a fight. Here King Grape dies, regretted by the whole Court of Assyria, which Bacchus on his return, finds in the deepest mourning. He informs himself of the cause of their grief, of which he seems to have already a presentiment.

In the nineteenth Canto Queen Methe or Inebriation is {p.147} shown in deep affliction on account of the death of her husband King Grape, and telling Bacchus the cause of her grief. In order to console herself she requests the God to give her some of his delicious liquor. She consents not to grieve any more for her husband, provided she has a full cup. She offers to join her fate henceforth with that of Bacchus, to whom she recommends her son, or Bunch of Grapes and her old servant Pythos or Cask. Bacchus cheers her up by the promise of admitting them all to his feasts. He metamorphoses Staphylus in Grape, and his son Botrys in Bunch of Grapes. The rest of the Canto contains a description of the games, which Bacchus orders to be celebrated near the tomb of King Grape. Eagrus of Thracia contends with Erectheus of Athens for the price of song: victory remains with the former. This exercise is followed by that of pantomime: Silenus and Maron dance; the second is declared the victor.

After the termination of these games, at the commencement of this Canto, Bacchus seems to be busy with consoling Methe and the whole house of King Staphylus. Night sets in and people retire to rest. The couch of Bacchus is prepared by Eupetale or Pretty Leave, the nurse of Bacchus. Discord, under the disguise of Cybele, appears to Bacchus while asleep, in order to reproach him his idleness, and exhorts him to fight Deriades. Bacchus awakes and makes his preparations for marching. Prince Bunch of Grapes and Cash join the band of Satyrs and Bacchantes for an expedition, which it would be somewhat difficult to range amongst the number of historical events, although until the present time the reality of the conquests of Bacchus has been generally credited.

This God takes his route via Tyre and Byblos, along the shores of the river Adonis and the fertile hills of Nysa in Ara- {p.148} bia. In those places there reigned Lycurgus, a descendant of Mars: he was a fierce despot; who nailed at the gates of his palace the heads of the unhappy victims, which he had killed: his father was Dryas or the Oak, King of Arabia. Juno sends Iris to this Prince, in order to make him take up arms against Bacchus. The perfidious messenger takes the form of Mars and makes a speech to Lycurgus, in which she promises him the victory. After that she goes to Bacchus under the disguise of Mercury and persuades him to treat the King of Arabia as a friend, and to present himself before him unarmed. Bacchus, seduced by these wily insinuations, arrives unarmed at the palace of this, ferocious Prince, who receives him with scoffing smiles, then he threatens him, pursues the Hyads his nurses, and forces him, in older to save himself, to plunge into the Sea, where he is received by Thetis and consoled by old Nereus. The poet here makes the tyrant hold an insolent and threatening speech, scolding the sea for having received Bacchus in her bosom.

We have arrived at the epoch when the Sun makes the transit towards the inferior signs, to the autumnal equinox, near which is the celestial Wolf, an animal consecrated to Mars, and host of the forests. This is the sign which is here designated under the name of a ferocious Prince, the son of Oak, a descendant of Mars, and whose name is composed of the word lycos or wolf. At that time, the celestial Bull, opposite the Wolf, and accompanied by the Lyads his nurses, descends in the morning into the bosom of the waves at the rising of the Wolf. This is that Bull which lends its attributes to the Sun of Spring, or its horns to Bacchus. Here we have the phenomenon, which renews itself every year, at the close of the vintage, and which the poet has sung in his allegory of the war of Lycurgos against Bacchus, who throws himself into {p.149} the deep, and against the nurses of the latter, which are assailed by the tyrant.

The twenty-first Canto represents the sequel of this adventure and the fight between Ambrosia, one of the Hyads, and Lycurgos, who takes her prisoner; but Earth comes to her rescue, and metamorphoses her in vine. Under this new form, she entwines her conqueror in her tortuous folds. Vainly he tries to clear himself of it. Neptune upheaves the Sea, unchains the storms, and shakes the Earth; but nothing can intimidate the savage King, who defies the efforts of the Bacchantes and the power of the Gods, the protectors of Bacchus. He orders all vines to be cut down and threatens Nereus and Bacchus. Jupiter strikes the tyrant with blindness, who is no longer able to see his way.

Meanwhile the Nereids and the Nymphs of the red Sea lavish their cares on Bacchus, and are eager to entertain him with feasts, while the Pans and the Satyrs are disconsolate on' account of his absence, and search for him all over the Earth. This circumstance is to be noticed: because in the fable of Osiris or the Egyptian Bacchus, they supposed that he was thrown into the Nile by Typhon, the Genius of Darkness and of Winter, and that the Satyrs wept and searched for him everywhere. But very soon one of their companions, Scelmus or the Lean arrives with the cheering news of the return of their leader. They are filled with joy on account of these happy news. Bacchus on his return puts himself at the head of his army and marches against the Indian General, who had treated his herald with contempt and had sent him back.

Encouraged by the presence of the hero its commander, {p.150} restored to it by the Gods, the army of Bacchus arrives on the shores of the Hydaspes. While his soldiers are given up to revelry, and celebrate his return by feasts, the Indians make preparations to attack them. But a Hamadryad reveals their plan to the soldiers of Bacchus, who secretly arm themselves. The Indians come out from their retrenchments and make a charge. The army of Bacchus feigns a flight, in order to draw them into the plain, where they make a terrible slaughter of them. The water of the Hydaspes is reddened with their blood. We shall not enter into a more detailed description of the battle, of which all the traits are drawn from the imagination of the poet, and which make up a tableau resembling that of all battles.

In the twenty-third Canto the poet continues his narrative of the battle fought on. the shores of the Hydaspes, in the waters of which most of the Indians are precipitated. Juno, who is always inimical to Bacchus, instigates the Hydaspes, to declare war against the victor, which makes his preparations for crossing it. Scarcely had Bacchus advanced in the rivers when the Hydaspes enlists Eaolus, in order to make its waters rise by unchaining the tempests. Here follows a pretty long description of the confusion caused by this event in the army of Bacchus. This God threatens the river, which only becomes the more furious. Bacchus burns it in its bed. The ocean is irritated about it, and menaces Bacchus and Heaven.

Jupiter calms the fury of the Ocean, and the Hydaspas asks Bacchus for peace, who finally yields. Very soon, says the poet, is the rain brought back by the winds, raised by the Bear and by winter, refilling again the rivers with water. Deriades arms his Indians against Bacchus. Jupiter, in company with {p.151} the other Gods of the Olympus, is rendering assistance to his Son and his companions. Apollo takes Aristeus under his protection; Mercury does the same with Pan, and Vulcan with his Cabiri. At the head of his army marches Bacchus, and Jupiter under the form of an eagle is their guide. Meanwhile Deriades is informed by Thureus, who had escaped from the slaughter, of the defeat of the Indians on the river Hydaspes. These news cause mourning and consternation in his camp, while the army of Bacchus rejoices over its success, which the victors celebrate by songs, and after the enjoyment of the pleasures of the table, they retire to rest.

The poet commences his twenty-fifth Canto, or the second moiety of his poem by an invocation of the Muse, whom he invites to sing the subject of the war in India, which is to last seven years. After a prolific invocation, Nonnus coming finally to the point, depicts the fears of the inhabitants of the Ganges and the despair of Deriades, who learns that the waters of the Hydaspes had been changed into wine, like those of the Astacus; that the smell of this delicious liquor was felt by the Indians, and was already portending the victory of Bacchus. The latter felt ashamed of the rest, in which he languished, and is indignant on account of the obstacles laid by Juno in the way of his triumphs. Atis, the lover of Cybele, is sent by that Goddess to console Bacchus and brings him an armour forged by Vulcan. The poet gives us here a description of the splendid shield, which he receives. The whole celestial system and the most interesting subjects of mythology were engraved thereon. In the meantime night sets in, and while spreading her gloomy veil over the Earth, she brings sleep back again to the mortals.

Minerva, under the form of Orontes, appears to Deriades in a dream, and artfully stirs him up, to go and fight the mighty son of Jupiter. Thou sleepest, O Deriades, she exclaims! A King, charged to watch over the defence of numerous nations, how can he sleep, when the enemy is at the gates? The murderers of Orontes, thy Son-in-Law, are still living, and he is not yet avenged! Look at that breast, where there is still that gaping wound, inflicted by the thyrsus of thy enemy. Oh, that the redoubtable son of Mars, Lycurgus was here. Thou wouldst see very soon Bacchus save himself at the bottom of the deep. Was he a God, this Bacchus, when he could be put t. flight by a mortal? Minerva, after having thus spoken, returns to Heaven, where she resumes her divine form. Deriades hereupon assembles immediately his warriors, whom he calls from all parts of the Orient. Here follows a long enumeration of the nations and of the various Princes; coming from all the countries of India in order to range themselves under his banners. This Canto contains curious details about the manners, customs and the natural history of all these countries.

Aurora, says the poet, had already opened the gates of Orient; already had the light of the rising Sun, of which the Ganges reflected the rays, banished the shadows spread over the Earth, when a rain of blood came foreboding to the Indians their certain defeat. Notwithstanding and in the fullness of a proud self reliance, Deriades places his battalions in battle-array against the son of Semele, whose front is armed with horns, and addressed his soldiers in a speech replete with contempt for his enemy. Then follows a description of the {p.153} army of the Indians, of their position, their dresses and their armour. Bacchus also is seen, dividing his army into four corps, disposed in the direction of the four cardinal points of the World, and haranguing his warriors.

Meanwhile Jupiter convokes the assembly of the immortals, and invites many Divinities, to take an interest in the sort of his Son. The Gods divide: Pallas, Apollo, Vulcan and Minerva side with the wishes of Jupiter: Juno in opposition forms a combination against him with Mars, Hydaspes and the jealous Ceres, who were to oppose that hero in his undertakings.

In the beginning of this Canto Nonnus presents us with the spectacle of the two armies advancing in battle array, ready for the fray. Amongst the heroes in the train of Bacchus, there may be distinguished Faun, Aristeus and Macus, who march in the front ranks against the Indians. Phalenus engages in deadly conflict with Deriades, and is killed. Coryritbasus, one of the most valiant captains in the Indian army, distinguishes himself by the number of victims immolated by his sword, and perishes in his turn pierced by a thousand arrows. A trait of valour of an Athenian is particularly admired on account of the fearless exposure of his person, notwithstanding the loss of both his arms, until he meets death. After the battles of the infantry, the poet then gives a description of those of the various troops of horse: Argilippus seizes inflamed torches, kills several Indians, and wounds Deriades himself by throwing a stone at him. The rest of the Canto is taken up by a description of various flights in which the Corybantes and the Cyclops are distinguished.

Juno, having been informed of the flight of several battalions of the Indians, goes to reanimate the courage and impetuosity of Deriades their leader, who rallies his forces and begins again the battle with renewed vigour. 5Morrheus breaks the line of the Satyrs. Hymensaus, the favourite of Bacchus, resists a powerful onset, animated by the exhortations of this God; however he is wounded on the thigh. Cured very soon by Bacchus, he wounds his enemy in his turn. Then follows the description of the battles fought by Aristeus and the Cabyri, also that by the Bacchantes. Caliceus or the Cup is at the side of Bacchus: the battle revives again. Bacchus challenges Deriades. Night, which sets in, separates the combatants. Mars falls asleep and is troubled by a dream. At daybreak he arises. Terror and Fear put horses to his chariot. He flies to Paphos and to Lemnos and thence returns to Heaven.

Bacchus takes advantage of the absence of Mars; he attacks the Indians and makes war on the black people. Aristeus fights on the left wing. Morrheus wounds Eurymedon, who is succoured by his brother Alcon. Eurymledon invokes Vulcan, their father, who envelops Morrheus with his fire. But the Hydaspes, father of Deriades, puts it out. Vulcan heals his son: Morheus kills Phlogius, and triumphs over his defeat. The famous Tectaphus, whose daughter had nourished him with her milk, when he was in prison, carries confusion into the ranks of the Satyrs, and finally perishes under the blows of Eurymedon. The poet describes here the grief of his daughter Meroe, and enumerates the other victims, immolated by Morrheus. Juno supports Deriades, rendering him formidable in the eyes of Bacchus, who takes to flight. {p.155} Minerva recalls him to the combat, reproaching him for his cowardice. The courage of Bacchus is revived and he returns to the charge, killing a great many Indians. He wounds especially Melanion, or the Black, who, while hidden behind a tree, had killed a great many people.

Juno looks for new expedients to injure the son of her rival: she descends into Hell in order to see Proserpine, whom she wants to interest in her vengeance, and to rouse the Furies against Bacchus. Proserpine consents to her request, and lends her Meglera. Juno departs with her; she makes three paces and at the fourth she arrives on the shores of the Ganges. Here she shows to Meglera the heaps of the dead, the pitiful wreck of the Indian army. The Fury retires into a cave, where she leaves her hideous figure and her serpents, and changes herself into a night bird, while she is awaiting the information of Juno, when Jupiter would be asleep.

Iris goes in search of Morpheus and persuades that God to pour his poppy over the eyes of the lord of the thunderbolt, in order to favour the wrath of Juno. The God of sleep obeys, and Iris goes to the Olympus tot render an account to Juno of her message. The latter has already some other snares in preparation, in order to make sure of Jupiter, and to beguile him: she pays a visit to Venus on the Lebanon, and explains to her the subject of her vexation; she begs her assistance, in order that she may be enabled to arouse again the love of Jupiter for her, and that she might aid the Indians during his sleep.

Venus complies with the desire of Juno, who is immediately soaring up to the Olympus, where she is going to make her {p.156} toilet. After that she makes her appearance before Jupiter, who falls in love with her. While they give themselves up to the pleasures of the most delicious enjoyment, and afterwards fall asleep, the Fury, being informed of it, takes up arms against Bacchus, and under the form of a furious lion makes a spring at him, and infects him with the distemper. In vain Diana wishes to cure him; Juno opposes it. Here follows a description of the terrible effects of that madness, which makes the friends of Bacchus fly from him. Deriades takes advantage of this momentary disorder and makes an attack on the Bacchantes. Mars under the figure of Morrheus, is stirring up the carnage and combats for the Indians. Here follows the catalogue of the dead. A large number of the companions of Bacchus take to their heels and save themselves in forests and caverns. The Naiads hide themselves at the bottom of their fountains, and the Hermadryads in the trees of their forests.

While the son of Semele is a prey to the fits of madness, like a furious Bull, Grace, the daughter of Bacchus and Venus interests her mother in behalf of the fate of her unhappy father. Venus sends for Cupid and informs him of her resolution and of her fears about Bacchus: she induces him to inspire Morrheus, the leader of the Indians, with a vehement love for the beautiful Calchomuedia, one of the Bacchantes, serving in the army of Bacchus. Love, in obedience to the order of his mother, shoots a burning arrow at the Indian hero, who falls passionately in love with the beautiful Bacchante. Morrheus thinks no longer of battles. Subjugated by love, he would willingly consent to wear the chains of Bacchus. He follows the Nymph, who avoids his courtship, and who would sooner throw herself into the Sea, than marry him. Thetis, under the figure of a Bacchante, dissuades her from this {p.157} project, she advises her, to deceive the proud Indian by apparently consenting, she tells her, that it is the only means to save the army of the Bacchantes.

Thetis returns to the watery abode of Nereus, while Morrheus is agitated by the most lively apprehensions about the fate of his courtship. He makes his slave a confidant of his flame and[ asks him for a remedy against his passion, which takes away all his courage, and makes the arms fall from his hands at the mere sight of his sweetheart. He retires to his apartment and falls asleep. A deceitful dream represents him the object of his love at his side, refusing nothing to his desires. But the return of Aurora puts an end to his felicity.

Mars however is arming the battalions of the Indians. The Bacchantes are overwhelmed with grief, and the whole army of Bacchus is discouraged. Morrheus takes many Bacchantes prisoners, and makes a present of them to Deriades his father-in-law, who makes them appear in his triumph and to perish by various tortures. Morrheus continues to pursue the army of Bacchus, when he perceives Calchomedia richly dressed: she feigns to fall in love with the Indian Chieftain, who shows himself more a lover than a warrior and an enemy, and who rather sighs for her, than dare to fight with.

While many Bacchantes are either killed or wounded in the city, Calchomedia awaits Morrheus on the ramparts, who as soon as he perceives her, is full of eagerness to meet her.

She promises him her favours; provided that he should consent to come to see her unarmed, and after having washed himself in the river. Morrheus consents to everything. Venus smiles at her triumph and teases Mars, the protector of the Indians. {p.158} At the moment when Morrheus wants to obtain the price of his submission, a dragon, the faithful guardian of the chastity of the Bacchante, rushes from her bosom and opposes his fruition. The Indian is frightened and meanwhile the Bacchantes under the leadership of Mercury, who takes the form of Bacchus, escape from the city and from Deriades, who pursues them.

Jupiter however, aroused from his sleep and excited by the disorder of the army of Bacchus and by the disease of his son, reproaches Juno, whom he forces, to give to Bacchus some of her milk, in order that he might recover his reason and health. Bacchus is cured and soon appears again at the head of his army, to which his presence alone is a presage of victory. He grieves for the fate of the warriors, who had been killed during his absence and makes arrangements in order to avenge them.

The Gods take sides between Deriades and Bacchus. Mars combats against Minerva; Diana against Juno, who wounds her and triumphs over her defeat. Apollo takes her out of the fray and engages in personal combat with Neptune. Mercury finally reconciles the Gods and re-establishes peace once more in Olympus. Deriades is again preparing for a fight, and by infusing new courage into his soldiers, they determined to give a decisive battle. Bacchus on his part, is also preparing for another battle; and already is heard the hissing of the serpents of the Bacchantes. Tartarus is opening its gates in order to receive the dead. Then follows a description of the fray and of the carnage.

Bacchus engages into deadly combat with Deriades and in order to beat him, he takes various forms like Proteus: he is wounded under that of a panther. Like the soul of the World he metamorphoses himself into fire, into water, into a {p.159} plant, into a tree, into a lion &c. Deriades in vain combats the phantom which escapes him, and ineffectually contends against Bacchus, who makes a vine grow, the branches of which entangle the wheel of the chariot of Deriades and wind themselves around him; he is forced to implore the clemency of Bacclhus, who clears him of his fetters. But the proud Indian is not subdued and constantly attempts to make this God his slave.

Bacchus not being able to overcome the Indians by land, makes the Rhadamanes build vessels for him. He recollects the prediction of Rhea, who had told him, that the war would not end, until he should construct vessels against his enemies. This war had already lasted six years, when Deriades caused his black subjects to assemble. Morrheus harangues them, and reminds them of his former achievements. He informs them, that the Rhadamanes were building vessels for Bacchus, and he relieves their apprehensions about this new mode of warfare. Meanwhile a truce is made of three months, in order to bury the dead.

This truce occupies the whole of the following book, which contains a description of the various funeral obsequies. Trees are cut in the forest, destined to erect the funeral piles, to be set on fire. Bacchus institutes the celebration of games on the occasion of these obsequies, and proposes various prizes.

The course of the chariots, the foot-race, the wrestling, the combat of the cestus, the disk and various other exercises form this interesting spectacle.

The truce expires, and the seventh year of the war commences. Several phenomena presage its issue. Amongst others an eclipse of the Sun is remarkable, the application of {p.160} which to the present events is made by an astrologer, which is wholly favourable to Bacchus. Mercury himself conies to confirm the meaning, which had been given to it, and the happy omens, which he draws from it: he compares the momentaneous obscurity of the eclipse and the returning light of the Sun, which finally triumphs over it, with that which shall happen to Bacchus in his combat against the leader of the black people. Mercury is led into the episodial narrative of the marvellous story of the fall of Phmeton, to whom the Sun of old had once confided the reins of its chariot. As soon as the tale is ended, Mercury returns to Heaven.

At the commencement of the following Canto we are given the spectacle of the fleet under the leadership of the Rhadamanes and of Lycus. At that sight Deriades becomes furious, and makes a speech replete with insolent pride.

Bacchus on his part encourages his soldiers, and with his fleet is hemming in the Indians. A horrible carnage is made on both sides: the seashore is covered with the dead. Morrheus having been wounded by Bacchus is healed by the Brahmins. Jupiter finally makes the scales incline in favour of Bacchus. The Indian fleet is burned and Deriades saves himself on shore.

Minerva appears, at the commencement of the following book, to Deriades under the form of Morrheus, and bitterly reproaches him his cowardly flight. He returns to the fight and again defies Bacchus, who finally kills him. His corpse is floated along by the waves of the Hydaspes. The Bacchantes applaud with cheers the victory of their leader, and the Gods, who had been witnesses of a defeat, which ends the war of Bacchus against the Indians, return with Jupiter to the {p.161} Heavens. The rest of the Canto is taken up by a description of the consequences of this great event, of the grief of the whole family of Deriades, and of the obsequies of the dead. The poet gives us also a picture of the rejoicings of the Bacchantes: they celebrate by songs and dances the victory of Bacchus over the Chief of the Black people, who had so long resisted the onward course of the beneficent God, who made the circuit of the world, in order to enrich it with his gifts. Deriades plays here in the poem of Bacchus a similar role of opposition, as Typhon plays in the sacred fables of Osiris. This principle of resistance of the Chief of the Blacks having been overcome by the God, the principle of Light and the source of all blessings, there is now nothing more to do for Bacchus, but to proceed on his route, and to return to the point, whence he had set out. This point is the equinox of Spring, or the sign of. the Bull, where he shall return, after having dispelled the gloom, spread by Winter over the World, and which under the name of Pentheus or Mourning, is unable to hold out longer before the God, who by his return to our climes, restores to us Light and Gladness. The war has ended in the seventh year or in the seventh sign.

Nonnus therefore supposes, that Bacchus leaves Asia, in order to return to Greece or towards the North of the World. He makes him take his route through Arabia and Phoenicia; all of which furnishes him with matter for sundry episodic Cantos, having reference to the countries, through which he makes him pass. His eye is principally fixed on Tyre and Berytes, of which he narrates the origin, all of which comprises the end of this Canto and the three consecutive ones, which may be regarded as absolutely episodical.

Bacchus is here seen on his route through Phoenicia and all the neighbouring places of the Lebanon, where he plants the vine on those hills, which had acquired celebrity by the courtship of Venus and Adonis. Here was the superb city of Berytes of which the poet makes an enconium and gives a pompous description of it. It is the most ancient city that ever had existed. This is the first land, where Venus landed, when she came out from the waves of the Sea at the moment of her birth. Bacchus and Neptune are contending for the hand of the Nymph, who shall give it its name.

This Canto is filled by a description of the effects, which is produced on the heart of Bacchus at the sight of the youthful Nymph, whose hand he solicits. He reveals his passion to her, and tries to disgust her with the God of Waters; but the Nymph is deaf to this seductive language. Neptune in his turn makes his appearance on the stage, but meets with no more favourable reception. Venus declares that the fate. of the combat should decide, who of the two rivals shall have the preference.

The poet give us a description of the armour of the two rivals; also the disposition of their forces. Amongst the Captains of the army of Bacchus, the Winy, the Wine Drinker, the Bunch of Grapes and other allegorical personages are conspicuous. This God animates the courage of his warriors and bids contemptuous defiance to the soldiers of Neptune, who likewise animates his army by a speech, in which Bacchus meets with no better treatment. A Triton is sounding the charge on one {p.163} side and Pan on the other. The famous Proteus, followed by old Nereus and by a great many marine Divinities make their appearance. The army of the Bacchantes is marching in good order against them. The battle commences: Silenus is fighting against Palemon, Pan against Nereus; the elephants are facing the sea-calves. The Nymph Psamathea, standing on the sands of the sea shore, implores Jupiter to favour Neptune, on whom finally the Lord of the Gods bestows the Nymph Beroe. Love is consoling Bacchus by the promise of the hand of the beautiful Ariadne.

The long episode, which has the foundation of Tyre and Berytes for object, being ended, the poet exhibits to our view Bacchus on his return to Greece. His arrival there is marked by festivals: whole Nature welcomes his return. The only one, who is afflicted is Pentheus, or Mourning personified.

For the better understanding of the sense of the allegory, predominant throughout this Canto of the poem, it will be necessary to remember, that we are here at the winter solstice, or at the epoch, when the Sun, after its seeming withdrawal from us, is again taking its route towards our climes and is, restoring to us that light, which seemed to desert us. It was just at the same epoch, when the ancient Egyptians celebrated their festivals, the object of which was this return, and the announcement, that they had no longer to stand in fear of that mourning, with which Nature was menaced by the absence of the Sun, and which they apprehended, would recede from them forever. Mourning therefore vanishes with the first rays of hope, which the people of our climates would conceive, when observing the return of the Sun towards them, which, with the restoration of Light and Heat, shall render them all the blessings, of which the Star of Day is the fruitful source.

Mourning or Pentheus, filled with apprehensions by this {p.164} return, arms his soldiers against Bacchus, and denies him admission into the city of Cadmus. But awful prodigies already prognosticate, his fate and the disasters impending over his whole house. Nevertheless he persists in his project, which has the ruin of Bacchus for object.

That God invokes the Moon, which promises him her support. As a warranty of his future success, she points to the victories, which he had already achieved, and amongst others, to the defeat of the Tuscan pirates, who wanted to put him in irons. This last adventure finds here of course its place, because it is that of the winter solstice. In our larger work will be found a detailed explanation.

Meanwhile Proserpine, the mother of the first Bacchus stirs up the Furies, which are going to spread confusion in the palace of Pentheus, and to pour out their phials of black poison into the house of Agave. Bacchus under the form of a Bull makes a speech to Antince, the wife of Aristeus, and informs her, that her son Acteon is not dead, and that he is hunting with Diana and Bacchus.

Deceived by this false information, the unfortunate Antinoe takes immediately to the forests, followed by Agave, the mother of Pentheus, who is already filled with all the fury of the Bacchantes.

Tiresias makes a sacrifice for Pentheus, whom he advises not to attempt a combat with Bacchus, the chances of which would be unequal. But nothing can intimidate Pentheus, who causes researches to be made in the forests after Bacchus and wants to put him in irons. The Bacchantes are imprisoned, and escape from it by working miracles. Bacchus sets the palace of Pentheus on fire, who in vain tries to extinguish it. Amongst the different miracles of Bacchus and of his Bacchantes, there are prodigies very similar to those, which are {p.165} attributed to Moses and to Christ; for instance such as the sources of water, which the former caused to spout from the innermost of the rocks, and the fiery tongues, which as it is said, filled the apartments, where the disciples of Christ used to meet.

The forty-sixth Canto commences with a speech of Pentheus against Bacchus, contesting his divine origin. Ba3cchus refutes him and afterwards allures him to disguise himself as a woman, in order to witness himself, what happens in his orgies. Pentheus lets himself be persuaded, and under that disguise approaches the Bacchantes, whose delirium and movements he imitates. He appears in the eyes of his mother under the form of a ferocious lion, as if going to attack Bacchus. She joins the Bacchantes in order to kill it, and when at the point of death, he tries to dissipate the error of his mother by saying, that he, whom she believes to be a lion, is her son. Yet nothing can undeceive Agave and her companions: they cut the unlucky Pentheus or the Prince of Mourning to pieces. The unfortunate mother had the head of her son cut off, and wants it to be hung up at the palace of Cadmus, always under the belief, that it was a lion, which they had killed.

Cadmus undeceives and reproaches her the cruel effects of her ravings. Then she is made aware of her crime; she falls into a swoon, and when recovering from it, she gives vent to imprecations against Bacchus. That God allays her grief with a drink and consoles her.

In order to understand well the following Cantos, it should be remembered, that there are still remaining three months for the Sun, to arrive at the point, whence it started primi- {p.166} tively. To these three months there correspond a series of constellations, which rise in succession in the evening on the horizon, and which develop themselves each month in' the East at the commencement of night, in proportion as the Sun draws near the signs of the Waterman, the Fishes and the Ram, to which those constellations are opposed. Amongst the most remarkable are the Herdsman and the celestial Virgin, followed by the crown of Ariadne and by the polar Dragon, which lends its attributes to the Giants. The Herdsman is known by the name of Icarus, a husbandman of Attica, who had a daughter called Erigone, which is the name of the celestial Virgin. Those are the celestial aspects, which mark the course of time of the succession of the months, from the winter solstice, when Bacchus kills Mourning or Pentheus, up to the time of his return to the first of the signs. This will form also the basis of the fictions of the poems in the following Cantos.

Bacchus leaves Thebes and approaches Athens, where they rejoice over his arrival. He takes lodgings with Icarus, who receives him with open arms; his daughter Erigone takes all possible care, to make him comfortable. Bacchus grateful for this service, makes them a present of a cup filled with wine, a drink until then unknown. Icarus tastes it and is finally intoxicated. It will be here observed, that the Herdsman or Icarus is the star of the vintage, also the Virgin, of which constellation one star bears the name of the Vintageress. She has above her the celestial Cup, which is called in Astronomy the Cup of Bacchus and of Icarus. This is the whole foundation of this allegory.

Bacchus teaches Icarus the art of cultivating the shrub, yielding this delicious juice. This discovery is communicated by the latter to others. Very soon all the country people in the neighbourhood become intoxicated. In their delirium, they get hold of him, who had given them this in its effects so astonish- {p.167} ing beverage. They kill him and they bury his body in an out of the way place. His shade appears to Erigone in a dream and requests her to avenge his death. Filled with terror she runs over mountains and through forests in search of her father's corpse. She finds it, and his faithful dog expires out of grief, over the tomb of his master. Erigone in despair hangs herself. Jupiter, moved by their misfortunes, places them in the Heavens. Icarus becomes the celestial Herdsman; Erigone the Virgin of the signs and their dog becomes the celestial Dog, which rises before them. In consequence of this event Bacchus leaves for the isle of Naxos, where he perceives Ariadne, abandoned by Theseus during her sleep. Bacchus finds her still asleep; he admires her charms and falls in love with her. The unhappy Princess awakens, and becomes aware that she is forsaken. With tears in her eyes she pronounces the name of Theseus and regrets the illusions of sleep, which made her see her lover in a dream. She makes the whole Island resound with her lamentations and expressions of sorrow. Bacchus listens attentively and very soon recognizes the sweetheart of Theseus. He approaches her and tries to console her. He offers her his true love, and promises to place her in the Heavens with a crown of stars, which shall perpetuate the memory of her love for Bacchus. It will be observed that this constellation rises in the morning with the Sun at the time of the vintage, and that is the reason why they made of it one of the mistresses of Bacchus.

This speech and the promises of the God calm the grief of Ariadne and make her forget her base ravisher. All the Nymphs are eager to celebrate her union with the God of Grapes.

Bacchus leaves the island in order to pay Argos a visit. The Argives took measures to repel the two spouses from a country, which was consecrated to Juno, the enemy of Bacchus. Pressed by the wrath of Bacchus, the Argive women are {p.168} disposed to sacrifice rather their own children. The reason of their refusal was, that inasmuch they had already Perseus for God, they did not want Bacchus. It will be here observed, that about this epoch, when the Sun is nearly approaching the signs of Spring, Perseus is appearing in the morning with the Sun. This occasions a combat between Perseus and Bacchus, ending in a reconciliation between these two heroes. This Canto ends with a description of the festivities, which the Argives celebrate in honour of the new God.

Bacchus leaves Argos and proceeds on his way to Thracia. There, Juno in her implacable hatred, makes the Giants rise against him, who borrow their form as we have seen, from the celestial Serpent or from the Dragon, which rises next to the crown of Ariadne. The poet gives here a description of the various arms, seized by the monsters, in order to give battle to Bacchus, who finally overthrows them. These are the same Serpents, which furnished to Typhon his attributes, and formed his retinue in the first Canto of this poem. This is an evident proof, that the annual revolution is ended, because the same celestial aspects are reproduced. Here we have a new confirmation of our theory and also an evidence, that the course of Bacchus is circular like that of the Sun, because by following the course of that luminary in the Heavens, and by comparing it with that of the hero of the poem, we are. brought back to the equinoctial point, whence we set out.

Then the breath of Zephyr or the gentle breeze, which announces the return of Spring, is felt again. The poet personifies it under the name of the Nymph Aura, with whom Bacchus falls in love; this furnishes him with matter for a charming allegory, with which his poem ends.

He supposes, that Bacchus in the mountains of Phrygia, where he had been raised, meets with a young huntress called {p.169} Aura, a grand daughter of the Ocean. She was as fleet as the wind.

Tired from the chase, she had fallen asleep towards noon and a dream prognosticated to her, that Bacchus would fall in love with her. It seemed to her as if she saw Love hunting, and presenting to his mother the animals he had killed. Aura dreamt that she was taking up his quiver. Love was joking about her taste for virginity. She awakes and is angry (against both Love and Sleep. She is proud of her virginity and asserts, that she is not inferior to Diana. That Goddess hears it and is provoked by such a comparison; she complains to Nemesis, who promises her, that she would punish that proud Nymph with the loss of that, which she so highly prizes. Immediately she arms Love against her, who causes Bacchus to fall passionately in love with her. That God is sighing a long while, and without hope. He dares not confess his passion to this wild Nymph. Here follows a passionate soliloquy of the unhappy lover, complaining of the severity of her, who is the object of his love. While Bacchus, who in the midst of meadows, enamelled with flowers, is giving vent to his amorous laments, a Hamadryad Nymph advises him to surprise Aura, and to rob her of the treasure, which she was guarding so carefully.

Bacchus recollects the artifice, to which he resorted, in order to enjoy the favours of Nice, near the shores of the Astacus. Chance conducted Airadne also in those places, and consumed by thirst, she was in search of a fountain, in order to quench it. Profiting by this chance thus offered, Bacchus strikes the rock with his tyrsus, and makes a source of wine spout out therefrom, meandering between flowers, which the season brings forth. Zephyrs breathe softly over it and agitate the air, which the nightingale and other birds make resonant with their harmonious concerts.

In this charming spot the young Nymph arrives in order to {p.170} refresh herself. She drinks, without suspecting anything, the delicious liquor, which Bacchus causes to flow for her. She is enchanted by its sweetness, and in a short time feels its astonishing effects. She is conscious, that her eyelids are heavy, that her head turns, that her feet are tottering. She lays down and falls a sleep. Love observes her, advices Bacchus of it, and takes its flight towards the Olympus, after having written on the vernal leaves these words "Lover, crown thy work, while she is asleep. Softly, no noise, for fear she might awake."

Following this advice, Bacchus approaches stealthily the couch of green sod, where the Nymph reposes. He takes away her quiver, without awaking her, and hides it in a grotto near by. He puts fetters round her and plucks the first flower of her virtue. He, leaves a sweet kiss on her vermilion lips; he unfetters her and returns her quiver.

Scarcely had the God left, when the Nymph arouses from her sleep, which had served her lover so well: she is astonished at the disorder in which she finds herself, and of which the poet gives a delightful picture. She perceives, that an amorous larceny had been committed, which had robbed her of her most precious treasure. She becomes furious and vents her rage on everything she encounters; she smites the statues of Venus and Cupid. She is ignorant of who the audacious ravisher is, who had taken advantage of her sleep; but soon she discovers, that she is to become a mother, and in her despair she wants to destroy the fruit she bears in her bosom and herself.

Then Diana abuses her fallen pride, by reminding her of the circumstances of an adventure, the unequivocal signs of which already betray the mystery. She asks her several malicious questions, and finally discloses to her, that Bacchus was the author of the larceny.

Having thus tasted the pleasures of vengeance, Diana, retires, leaving the unhappy Aura wandering, about rocks and {p.171} in the solitude, which resound with her plaintive groans. Finally she becomes the mother of twins, who she exposes on a rock, so that, they might become the prey of wild beasts. A female panther comes to the spot and suckles them. The mother, furious, that they should thus be preserved, kills one of them. The other is taken away by Diana and saved from. her rage, by giving it to Minerva, who had the child educated at Athens. This is the new Bacchus or the child of the mysteries.

Having thus ended his labours and terminated his mortal career, Bacchus is received in the Olympus, where he takes his seat near the son of Maia or the Pleiades, which. opens the new revolution.

It will be observed, that Nonnus, while ending his poem, brings his hero back to the equinoctial point of Spring, whence he set out, or in other words, that the poem ends with the annual revolution. The poet has given the various aspects, which Heaven presents in an allegorical poem, by personifying the physical beings, which, in the Elements and on Earth are connected with the periodical progress of time and with the celestial power, which preserves vegetation.

The forty-eight cantos of the poem comprehend the whole circle of the year and that of the effects, which it produces on the Earth. It is a canto on Nature and on the beneficent power of the Sun.

The Heaceleid and the Dionysiacs have therefore the same hero for object. These two poems suppose the same position in the equinoxes and the solstices, which have reference to the same centuries. In one of them or in the poem on Hercules, the Sun starts from the summer solstice; and in the other from the equinox of Spring. In the, one case, it is the power; in the other the beneficence of that luminary, which is sung: in both, it is the principle of goodness which triumphs as a last result over all obstacles opposed by its enemies. In the {p.172} sacred fable of the Christians we shall also see the God Sun under the form of the Lamb, and represented with the attributes of the sign, which took the place of the Bull at the equinox of Spring, triumphant at Easter over the opposition, which his enemies made against the exercise of his beneficence, and going on Ascension day to resume his place in the Heavens, like Bacchus.

It would be difficult to persuade anybody, that the hero of the Dionysiacs had been a mortal, whom his conquests and the gratitude of mankind had raised to the rank of the mortals, although a great many persons had asserted it. The allegorical features of the poem are visible in all its parts. His course corresponds exactly with that of the Sun in Heaven, and with that of the seasons, so much so, that it must be evident to anybody, who shall pay the least attention to it, that Bacchus is here the Star of Day, and represents that solar power, which according to Eusebius develops itself in the vegetation of the fruits, which are offered by Autumn. All the characters have been preserved in various hymns, addressed by Orpheus to Bacchus.

He is represented there sometimes as a God, inhabiting the gloomy Tartarus, at other times as a Divinity reigning in Olympus, thence superintending the maturing of the fruits, which the Earth brings forth from her bosom. He takes all sorts of forms; he preserves everything; he produces the freshness of vegetation, the same as the sacred Bull does, which the Persians invoke in their hymns.

He sees by turns his flambeau kindled and extinguished in the periodical cycle of the seasons. It is he, who makes the fruit grow. There is not one of these traits, which would not be appropriated to the Sun, and the analysis, which we have made of the poem, of which he is the hero, proves by consecutive comparison with the progress of the year, that Bacchus, as already observed, is the beneficent Luminary, which ani- {p.173} mates everything on Earth at each annual revolution.

Behold here once more a hero, famous in all antiquity by his travels and conquest in the East, who is found never to have existed as a mortal, notwithstanding all that Cicero may have said about him, and who only exists in the Sun, like Hercules and Osiris. His history is reduced to an allegorical poem on the year, on the vegetation and on the luminary, which is the cause of it, and the fecundating action of which commences to develop itself at the equinox of Spring. The King Grape, the Queen Inebriation, the Prince Bunch of Grapes, old Pithos or the Cask are merely secondary beings personified in an allegory, which has the God of the vintage for object. It is the same case with young Ampelus or the Vine, the friend of 3Bacchus; with the Nymph Aura, or the gentle Breeze, with whom he is in. love, and with all the other physical or moral beings, which are playing a conspicuous part in this poem, the foundation, as well as the accessories of which, belong to allegory, with which history has nothing whatever to do. But, if history loses thereby a hero, poetic antiquity is gaining by it, and discloses one of the most beautiful monuments of its genius. This poem is instructive in forming a judgment of its original character, and gives us an idea to what height poetry might soar. It may also be seen here, how, in such a simple canvas as a calendar, they know to embroider the most ingenious fictions, in which everything is personified, and where everything has a soul, life and feeling. The poet of our days may see from these examples, from what eminence they have fallen, but it is our province to judge of the certainty or truth of ancient stories, and chiefly of those, of which the personages play a prominent figure in the heroic sagas and in religious legends.

The fable of Jason, the conqueror of the ram of the golden fleece, or of the celestial sign, which, by its disengagement from the solar rays in the morning, announces the arrival of the Star of Day at the equinoctial Bull of spring, is alike famous in mythology, as the fiction of the twelve labours of the Sun under the name of Hercules, and that of its travels under that of Bacchus. This is again an allegorical poem, which belongs to another people, and which has been composed. by other priests, whose great Divinity was the Sun. It would seem to be the work of the Pelasgi of Thessaly, as the poem on Bacchus was that of, or had its origin with the people of Boeotia. Each nation, while worshipping the same God Sun under different names, had its priests and poets, who did not want to copy each other in their sacred cantos. The Jews celebrated this same equinoctial epoch, under the name of feast of the Lamb and of the triumph of the cherished people of God over the hostile people. It was also at that epoch, that the Hebrews, when delivered from oppression, passed into the promised land, into the abode of delight, the gate of which was opened to them by the sacrifice of the Lamb. The worshippers of Bacchus said of this Ram, or of this equinoctial Lamb, that it was the same, which in the desert in the midst of the Sands, caused the discovery of spring water, in order to refresh the army of Bacchus, as also loses with a stroke of his wand, made to spout out in the desert, in order to quench the thirst of his army. All these astronomical fables have a point of contact in the celestial sphere, and the horns of Moses resemble very much those of Ammon and of Bacchus.

We have already observed in the explanation we have given {p.175} of the poem on Hercules, that this pretended hero, whose history explains itself entirely by Heaven, belonged to the expedition of the Argonauts, which is indicative enough of the character of this last fable: it is therefore still in Heaven, that we must follow the actors of this new poem, because one of the most distinguished heroes amongst them is in the Heavens, and that it is there, where the scene of all his adventures lays, that his image is located there as well as that of Jason, the leader of this wholly astronomical expedition. Amongst the constellations may also be found the vessel, on which the Argonauts had embarked, and which is still called the ship Argo; the famous Ram with the golden fleece, which is the first of the signs, may also be seen there; likewise the Dragon and the Bull, which guarded the fleece; the Twins Castor and Pollux, which were the principal heroes of this expedition; the same as Cepheus and the Centaur Chiron. The celestial images and the personages of the poem have such an affinity amongst each other, that the celebrated Newton thought, that he could draw from it an argument in order to prove, that the sphere had been composed since the expedition of the Argonauts, because most of its heroes, who are mentioned in that song, find themselves located in the Heavens. We shall not at all deny this perfect correspondence, not more than that, which is to be found between the Heavens and the pictures of the poem on Hercules and on Bacchus, but we shall draw from it only one consequence, which is, that the celestial figures were the common foundation, on which the poets worked, who gave them different; names, under which they made them figure in their poems.

There is not more reason to say, that these images were consecrated in the Heavens on the occasion of the expedition of the Argonauts, than it would be to assert, that they were so on the Occasion of the labours of Hercules, because the subjects of these two poems are to be found there likewise, and if {p.176} they were put there for one of these fables, they could not have been so for the other, as the place would have been already occupied; because they are the same group of stars, but every one has sung them after his own fashion: hence the reason why they suit all these poems.

The conclusion of Newton could be only in so far of any force, as there should exist any certainty about the expedition of the Argonauts being a historical fact, and not a fiction similar to those, having Hercules, Bacchus, or Osiris and Isis and their travels for object, and we are very far from having that assurance. At the contrary, all is concurring to range it in the class of sacred fictions, because it is found intermingled with them in the depot of the ancient mythology of the Greeks, and that it has heroes and characters in common with those of these poems, which we have explained by astronomy. We shall therefore make use of the same key, in order to analyse this solar poem.

The poem on Jason does not comprehend the entire annual revolution of the Sun, like those of the Heracleid and of the Dionysiacs, which we have explained; but has only for object one of those epochs, in truth a very famous one, when this luminary, after overcoming winter, reaches the equinoctial point of spring, and enriches our hemisphere with all the blessings of the periodical vegetation. That is the time, when Jupiter, metamorphosed into a golden rain, created Perseus, whose image is placed over the celestial Ram, called the Ram with the golden fleece, the rich conquest of which was attributed to the Sun, the conqueror of Darkness and the redeemer of Nature.

It is this astronomical fact, this single annual phenomenon, which has been sung in the poem called "Argonautics." It is on that account, that this fact enter only partially in the solar poem upon Hercules, and forms. an episodical piece of the ninth labour, or of that, which corresponds to the celestial {p.177} Ram. In the Argonautics on the contrary, it is a whole poem, which has one single subject. It is this poem, which we are going to analyse, and the relations of which with the Heavens we shall show, if not in detail, at least so far as the main point is concerned, which the genius of each poet has amplified and ornamented after his own fashion. The fable of Jason and of the Argonauts has been treated by several poets, by Epimenides, Orpheus, Apollonius of Rhodes and by Valerius Flaccus. We possess only the poems of the last three, and we shall analyse here only that of Apollonius, which is written in four cantos. All are supported by the same astronomical basis, which is reduced to very few elements.

We will recollect that Hercules in the labour corresponding to the Ram, before he arrives at the equinoctial Bull, is supposed as having embarked for the purpose of going to Colchis, in quest of the golden fleece. At the same epoch he freed a maiden exposed to a sea monster, as Andromeda was placed near the same Ram. He went then on board the ship Argo, one of the constellations, which establishes this same passage of the Sun to the Ram of the signs. Here we have therefore the given position of the Heavens for the epoch of this astronomical expedition. Such is the state of the sphere to be supposed at the time, when the poet sings the Sun under the name of Jason, and his conquests of the famous Ram. This supposition is confirmed, by what Theocritus tells us: that it was at the rising of the Pleiades and in the Spring, when the Argonauts embarked. Now, the Pleiades rise, when the Sun arrives towards the end of the Stars of the Ran, and when it enters the Bull, which is the sign, that corresponded in those remote periods to the equinox. This fact being established, let us examine what constellations in the morning and evening hours fixed this important epoch.

We find in the evening at the eastern rim the celestial vessel, called by the Ancients the ship of the Argonauts. It is followed {p.178} in its rise by the Serpentarius called Jason: between them is the Centaur Chiron, who educated Jason, and above Jason is the Lyre of Orpheus, preceded by the celestial Hercules, one of the Argonauts.

At the West, we see the Dioscuri Castor and Pollux, the leaders of this expedition with Jason. On the next day in the morning we perceive at the Eastern rim of the horizon, the celestial Ram, disengaging itself from the rays of the Sun with the Pleiades, Perseus, Medusa and the charioteer or Absyrtus, while at the West, the Serpentarius Jason and his serpent descend into the bosom of the waves after the celestial Virgin. In the East Medusa is rising, who plays here the role of Medea, and who being placed above the Ram, seems to give up its rich fleece to Jason while the Sun eclipses with its rays the Bull which follows the Ram, and the Sea Dragon placed below, who seems to guard this precious deposit. Those are, or very nearly so, the principal celestial aspects, which are offered to our views: we have sketched them on one of the planispheres of our larger work, destined to facilitate the understanding of our explanations. The reader ought to recollect above all, these various aspects,. in order to recognize them under the allegorical veil, with which. the poet is covering them, by mixing continually geographical descriptions and astronomical positions, which have a foundation of truth, with stories, which are entirely feigned. Almost all the details of the poem are the fruits of the imagination of the poet.

Apollonius commences with an invocation of the God himself, which he is going to sing, or of the Sun, the Chief of the Muses, and the tutelar Divinity of the poets. At the first verses or in the proposition, he establishes the object of the {p.179} sole action of his poem. He is going, he says, to celebrate the glory of ancient heroes, who by the order of King Pelias, had embarked on board the ship Argo, the very same, of which the image is in the Heavens, and who have gone in quest of the golden fleece of a Ram, which is likewise amongst the constellations. It is through the Cyarnaean rocks and by the entrance of the Pontus, that he marks the route of these intrepid travellers.

An oracle had informed Pelias, that he would perish by the hands of a man, whom he had ascertained since to be Jason. In order to avoid the effects of this sad prediction, he proposed to the latter a perilous expedition, from which he hoped, he would never be able to return. The proposition was, to go to Colchis to make the conquest of a golden fleece, which was in possession of Æetes, a son of the Sun and King of that country. The poet begins his subject by enumerating the names of the various heroes, the followers of Jason in the expedition. Amongst them Orpheus is noted; his society and example having been recommended to Jason by Chiron his tutor. The harmony of his songs would be useful, in order to soften the tediousness of his toilsome task. It will be observed that the Lyre of Orpheus is in the Heavens over the Serpentarius Jason, near a constellation, which is also called Orpheus. These three celestial images, Jason, Orpheus and the Lyre, rise together at, the setting in of Night and at the departure of Jason for his adventure. Such is the allegorical basis, which associates Orpheus with Jason.

Next to Orpheus comes Asterion, Typhys, the son of Phorbas, the pilot of the vessel; Hercules, Castor and Pollux, Augias, the son of the Sun and a great many other heroes, whose names we shall not mention here. Several of them are those of the constellations.

Behold those brave warriors on their way to the seashore in the midst of an immense concourse of people, praying {p.180} Heaven for the success of their voyage, and already predicting the fall of Æetes, should he be obstinate enough to refuse to them the rich fleece, which they are inquest of in those remote regions. The women especially are in tears on account of their departure, and they commiserate the fate of old Æson, the father of Jason and of Alcimede, his mother.

The poet stops here, in order to draw a picture of the touching scene of this separation, and of the firmness of Jason, endeavouring to console those, who are dear to him. There is his mother, who while bathed in tears, embraces him fondly with tender expressions of her sorrows and fears. The women of her suite share her affliction; and the slaves carrying the armour of her son observe a gloomy silence and does, not raise their eyes. We feel, that all these descriptions and those which follow, have one single idea for basis, which is the departure of Jason, and his parting with his family. Since the Genius, charged with the guidance of the chariot of the Sun, has been personified, all the details of the action have emanated from the imagination of the poet, excepting those, which have in small numbers, some astronomical positions for basis, which the poet knew, how to invest with the charms of poetry and with the marvels of fiction.

Jason always firmly resolved, begs his mother to remember the flattering hopes, given to him by the oracle, and those which he himself has in the strength and courage of his heroic companions. He entreats her, to dry her tears, which might be taken by his companions as a sinister omen. Thus speaking he slips from her embraces, and soon he makes his appearance in the midst of a great crowd of people, like Apollo, when he marches along the shores of the Xanthus, in the midst of the sacred choirs. The multitude makes the air resound with loud exclamations, which are a good augury of success. Iphis, the old priestess of Diana conservatrix, takes him by the hand, which she kisses; but she is prevented from {p.181} enjoying the. happiness to talk to him, so great is the crowd which presses around him.

Our hero has already arrived at the port of Pagasus, Where the ship Argo was at anchor, and where his companions were waiting for him. He summons a meeting and makes an allocution, in which he proposes, before any other thing, the election of a leader. Everybody has his eye upon Hercules, who however declines that honour, and declares that he would be opposed to anybody else's accepting the command, except him, who had brought them here together; that to him alone was due the honour. Hercules plays here a secondary roll, because the question here is not about the Sun, but about the Hercules constellation, which is his image, placed in the Heavens near the pole.

All approve this generous advice and Jason rises, in order to acknowledge his gratitude to the assembly; he announces that nothing shall now delay their departure. He invites them to make a sacrifice to the Divinity of the Sun or to Apollo under whose auspices they are going to embark, and in whose honour he causes an altar to be erected.

The poet enters then into some details about the preparations for the embarkation. They draw lots for the seats of the rowers. Hercules has that of the middle, and Tiphys takes his place at the helm.

The sacrifice then takes place, and Jason addresses a prayer to the Sun his grandfather, a Divinity, which is worshipped in the port, whence he starts. They immolate in its honour two Bulls, which fall under the blows of Hercules and of Ancaeus. Meanwhile the Day star had nearly reached its journey's end and touched at the moment, when Night was going to spread her gloomy veil over the country. The navigators sit down on the shore, where they are treated to supper and wine: they enliven their banquet with merry discourses. Jason alone {p.182} appears to be thoughtful and profoundly occupied with the important cares, with which he is charged. Idas makes some insulting remarks to him with the approbation of the whole crowd. A dispute is at the point of breaking out, when Orpheus calms again the spirits by his harmonious songs on Nature and on the clearing up of chaos. They offer libations to the Gods and afterwards resign themselves to sleep.

Scarcely had the first rays of Day gilded the summit of mount Pelion, and the fresh breeze of morning commenced to agitate the surface of the waters, when Tiphys, the pilot of the vessel, awakens the crew, and urges it to go on board: they obey. Each one takes the place which chance had assigned him. Hercules is amidships, the weight of his body, when coming on board, made the vessel sink deeper into the water. They weigh anchor, and Jason takes once more a parting look of his country. The rowers play their oars in measure with the sounds of the Lyre of Orpheus, who by his songs keeps up their efforts. The wave, white with foam, is murmuring under the edge of the oar, and bubbles up under the keel of the vessel, leaving a long furrow behind. Thus far, only a departure is described with those circumstances, which are its usual accompaniment, and which depend upon the imagination of the poet.

The Gods had however that day fixed their eyes on the sea and on the vessel, which carried the flower of the heroes of their age; who were associates of the labours and the glory of Jason. The Nymphs of Pelion contemplated with astonishment the vessel constructed by the wise Minerva. Chiron, whose image is in the Heavens near the Sepentarius Jason, is descending to the seashore, where the foaming billow breaks, which comes to wet his feet. He encourages the navigators, and offers them his best wishes for their happy return.

By that time the Argonauts had passed beyond Cape Tissa, and the coasts of Thesssaly were lost in shadowy distance be {p.183} hind them. The poet gives a description of the Islands and Capes, near which they are passing, or which they discover, until they had approached the isle of Lemnos, where the Pleiad Hypsipyle reigned. He profits of the occasion, to narrate the famous adventure of the Lemniades, who had killed all the men of their island, with the exception of old Thoas, who had been saved by his daughter Hypsipyle, who became queen of the whole country. Compelled to cultivate their fields and to defend themselves with their own weapons, these women gave themselves up to agriculture and to the hard labour of warriors; they were able to repel the assaults of their neighbours; and they kept especially a good look out against the Thracians, whose vengeance they apprehended.

When they perceived the vessel Argo approaching their island, they rushed from the city in great haste to the seashore, in order to repel those strangers by force of arms, as they were taking them first for Thracians: in front of them marched the daughter of Thoas, covered with her father's amour. The Argonauts dispatched a herald to them in order to obtain admission into their island. They discussed the question in an assembly, which was convoked by the queen. She advised them, to send to these strangers all kinds of assistance in provisions, of which they might be in want, but on no account to receive them into their city. Polixo, another Pleiad, of which the poet makes here the nurse of Hypsipyle, opposes in part the opinion of the queen. She also wants to grant refreshments to these strangers; but moreover she requests, against the advice of the queen, that they be received into the city. She supports her proposition with this principal argument, that they could not any longer go on without men; she says, that for their own defence they were in want of them, and in order to repair the losses, which their population was undergoing every day. This speech is received with the loudest acclamations, and the assent is so general, as not to leave {p.184} the slightest doubt, that every woman was in favour of it. It may be remarked here, that the intervention of two Pleiades, just at the very moment of the departure of Jason, contains an allusion to the conjunction of the stars of spring with the Sun, and which are in aspect with the Serpentarius Jason, which rises at their setting and sets when they are rising.

As Hypsipyle could no longer ignore the intention of the assembly, she dispatches Iphinoé to the Argonauts, in order to invite their Chief on her part to come to her palace, and to induce all his companions to accept lands and establishments in their island, Jason accepts the invitation, and in order to appear before the princess, he puts on a magnificent cloak, a gift of Minerva, which she had embroidered herself. There were delineated on it a long series of mythological subjects, amongst others the adventures of Phryxus and his Ram. Our hero takes in his hand also the lance, which Atalanta had made him a present of, when she received him on mount Menale.

Thus arrayed, Jason proceeds to the city, where the Pleiad held her court. Arrived at the gates, he found a crowd of the most distinguished women in attendance, in the midst of whom he advances with modest mien and cast down eyes, until he is introduced in the palace to the Princess. lie is placed on a seat in front of the queen, who looks at him blushingly and addresses him in affectionate language. But she conceals the actual reason of the want of men in her island; she feigns, that they had gone on an expedition to Thracia, and that, seduced by their captives, they had finally become tired of their spouses; that they had in consequence shut their gates upon them, and resolved on separation forever. Therefore, she added, there is no obstacle whatever existing against the establishment of you and your companions amongst us, and that you become the successors to the estates of Thoas {p.185} my father. Go and report to the heroes, which accompany you my offers and let them enter our walls.

Jason thanks the Princess, and accepts one part of her proposals, namely the supply of provisions, which she promised: with regard to the sceptre of Thoas, he begs her to keep it, not because he disdains it, but because an important expedition calls him somewhere else.

Meanwhile loaded carts bring the presents of the queen to the vessel, where her good intentions towards the Argonauts are already known through the reports of Jason. The allurements of pleasure keep the Argonauts back on the island, and endear them to this charming country; but stern Hercules, who had remained on board with the better portion of his friends, calls them back to their duty and the glory, which awaits them on the shores of Colchis. His reproof is listened to by the company without murmur, and preparations for departure are made. The poet gives here a description of the distress of the women at the time of that separation, and of their best wishes for the success and happy return of these intrepid navigators. Hypsipyle is bathing with her tears the hands of Jason, and bids him a tender farewell. Wherever thou mayst dwell, she tells him, remember Hypsipyle, and before departing, tell me, what I shall do, if a child is born to me, the cherished fruit of our short-lived union.

Jason requests her, that in case she should be delivered of a son, to send him to Iolehos, near his father and mother, to whom he would be a source of consolation during his absence. Thus speaking, he forthwith leaps on board of his vessel, placing himself at the head of all his companions, who eagerly seize their oars. They cut the cable and the vessel is soon far away, with the isle of Lemnos in the distance. The Argonauts arrive at Samothracia, at the same place, where Cadmus, the same as the Serpentarius had landed under another name: it is that, which he takes in the Dionysiacs. There reigned {p.186} Electra, another Pleiad: so we have now already three Pleiades put on the stage by the poet. Jason lets himself to be initiated into the mysteries of this island and proceeds on his route. We must now follow the Argonauts more on the Earth than in the Heavens. The poet having supposed, that it was in the East, and at the extremity of the Black Sea, that the celestial Ram rose at the time of the Sun's rising on the day of the equinox, he marks the route, which all vessels were presumed to follow, in order to arrive at those distant shores. It is therefore more a geographical, than an astronomical map, which has to serve us here as a guide.

In consequence of this supposition, we see the Argonauts pass between Thracia and the island of Imbros, sailing before the wind towards the Black Gulf, or the Gulf of Mlelas. They enter the Hellespont, leaving at their right mount Ida and the fields of Troas; they hug the shores of Abydos, of Percote, of Abarnis and of Lampsacus.

The neighbouring plain of the Isthmus was inhabited by the Doliones, whose Chief was Cysicus, the founder of their city. He was of Thessalian origin, and received therefore the Argonauts favourably, in as much as they were Greeks and their leader also a Thessalian. This host unfortunately perished afterwards in a night attack, in which the Argonauts and the Doliones by mistake engaged, when the former after their departure, were carried back by adverse winds. They made splendid funeral obsequies to this unfortunate Prince, and erected a tomb to him.

After having made a sacrifice to Cybele, the Argonauts quit again the harbour. They approach the Gulf of Cyanea and mount Arganthonium.

The Mysians, inhabiting these shores and placing entire confidence into the good behaviour of the Argonauts, gave them a friendly reception and furnished them with everything they wanted. While the whole crew is only intent on the pleasures {p.187} of the banquet, Hercules leaves the vessel and goes into a neighbouring forest in order to cut there an oar, which might suit his hand better, because his own had been broken by the violence of the waves. After having searched for a long time, he discovers finally a fir tree, which he shakes by blows with his club, he then pulls it up and makes himself an oar out of it.

Young HIylas, who had accompanied him, had meanwhile penetrated somewhat far into the forest, in order to go in search of a fountain, for the purpose of procuring water for the hero, which he might want on his return.

The poet narrates on this occasion the well known story of this child, which is drowned in the fountain, where he was thrown by a Nymph, who had fallen in love with him, he gives also a description of the grief of Hercules, who from that time abandoned all idea of returning on board of the vessel.

Meanwhile the joining Star appeared on the summit of the neighbouring mountains, and a fresh breeze began to rise, when Tiphys admonished the Argonauts to re-embark, and to take advantage of the favourable wind.

They heave up the anchor, and are already coasting along Cape Posideon, when they are made aware of the absence of Hercules.

They were discussing the question of returning to Mysia, when Glaucus, a Marine Deity, raised his muddy head above the waves and addressed the Argonauts in order to calm their apprehensions. He tells them that it would be of no avail, to attempt, against the will of Jupiter, to carry Hercules to Colchis, as he had yet to accomplish his laborious career of the twelve labours; that therefore they ought to cease busying their minds any longer about him. He informs them of the fate of young Hylas, who had married a Water Nymph. Having ended his speech, the Marine God dives again to the bottom of the Sea, and leaves the Argonauts to proceed on their route.. They land the next day on a shore in the vicinity. Here ends the first Canto.

The navigators had landed in the country of the Bebrycians, where Amycus a son of Teptune, reigned. This ferocious Prince defied all strangers to the combat of the Cestus, and had already killed many of his neighbours. It will be observed that the poet, as soon as he makes the Argonauts arrive in a country, never fails to mention all the mythological traditions, belonging to the cities and to the people, of which he has occasion to speak; this forms a series of particular actions, which are allied with the principal or rather only action of the poem, which is the arrival at Colchis, and. the conquest of the famous golden fleece.

Amycus goes to meet the companions of Jason, he makes enquiries on the subject of their voyages, and addresses them in a threatening allocution. He proposes to them the combat of the Cestus, wherein he had made himself so redoubtable. He tells them, that they had to make a choice of the bravest amongst them, in order to put him up against him. Pollux, one of the Dioscuri accepts his insolent challenge. The poet gives us a very interesting description of this combat, in which the King of the Bebrycians is slain. The Bebrycians want to avenge his death and are routed.

The Sun was already lighting up the gates of Orient, and seemed to invite the shepherd and his flock to the pasture grounds, when the Argonauts, after having loaded their vessel with the booty, which they had made of the Bebrycians, re-embarked and set sail towards the Bosphorus. The Sea was getting high; the waves were engrossing like enormous mountains, threatening to engulf the vessel, but the art of the pilot averts the effect. After some dangers they land on the coast, where Phineus, famous on account of his misfortunes, reigned.

The poet narrates here the famous adventures of Phineus who had been struck with blindness, and who was persecuted {p.189} by the Harpies. Apollo had granted him the art of divination. When the unhappy Phineus learnt the arrival of these travellers, he leaves his dwelling, directing and assuring his tottering steps with a staff. He speaks to them, as if he was already informed about the subject of their voyage, he draws a picture of his misfortunes, and implores their assistance against the ravenous birds, which give him so much trouble, and that it was reserved only to the sons of Boreus to exterminate them. Those sons of Boreus belonged to the party of heroes, who were on board of the vessel of Jason. One of the mi, Zethus, with tears in his eyes, takes the old man by the hand and speaks to him, trying to console him, by giving him the most flattering hopes. Accordingly a dinner was prepared for Phineus, which the Harpies as usual wanted to carry off. They begin soiling the tables, but it is for the last time, and in flying away, they leave an infectious stench behind. However they are pursued by the sons of Boreus sword in hand, and would have been killed, but for the intervention of the Gods, who dispatched Isis through the air, in order to prevent them from doing so. At all events the sons of Boreus exact from them the promise, of never again troubling the repose of Phineus, and they return afterwards on board of their vessel.

In the meantime the Argonauts prepare a dinner, to which they invite Phineus, and where he eats with the best appetite. Seated before his hearth, this old man traces for them the route, which they had to take, and points out to them the obstacles which they would have to surmount. As a soothsayer, he discloses to them. all the secrets, which it was possible for him to reveal, without displeasing the Gods, who had already punished him for his indiscretion. He informs them, that on leaving his states, they would have to pass through the Cyanman, rocks, which are not approached without impunity. He gives them a short description of these rocks, and also useful {p.190} advise how to escape the dangers. He recommends them to consult the dispositions of the Gods in their respect, by letting loose a dove. "He tells them, that if she should make the passage safely, not to hesitate a moment to follow her, and force this terrible passage by plying their oars steadily; because the efforts, which we make for our safety, are worth as much at least, as the prayers we address to the Gods. But should the bird perish, then return at once because that will be a proof, that the Gods are opposed to your passing through it." He traces afterwards a map of the whole coast, along which they would have to sail: he reveals to them chiefly the terrible secret of the dangers, to which Jason would be exposed on the shores of the Phasis, if he wanted to carry off the precious deposit, which was guarded by a terrible dragon, laying at the foot of the sacred beech tree, on which the golden fleece was suspended. The picture, which he draws of it, fills the Argonauts with apprehensions, but Jason bids the old man to proceed with his narration, and above all to tell him, whether they might flatter themselves to return in safety to Greece.

Old. Phineus answers, that he would find guides, who would conduct him where he wanted to go; that Venus would favour his enterprise, but that he was not allowed, to say more about it. He had just finished speaking, when the sons of Boreus returned, announcing that their chase of the Harpies was ended forever, and that they had been banished to Crete, whence they would never get out. These happy news fills the whole assembly with joy.

After having erected twelve altars to the twelve great Deities, the Argonauts re-embarked, taking with them a dove, which should serve them as a guide. Minerva, taking an interest in the success of their enterprise, had already stationed herself near those terrible rocks, in order to facilitate their passage. It will be observed here, that it is wisdom personified under {p.191} the name of Minerva, who would make them avoid those dangerous rocks, which border these straits on all sides. Such was the language of ancient poetry.

The poet describes here the amazement and the terror of the Argonauts at the moment, when they approach these terrible rocks, in the midst of which the foaming surge is boiling. Their ears are stunned by the awful noise of these clashing rocks, and by the impeduous roar of the foaming surges breaking on the shore. The pilot Tiphys is manoeuvring with the helm, while the rowers assist him with all their might.

Euphemus had taken his stand on the prow of the vessel and lets the dove fly, the fight of which is followed by every eye: she flies through the rocks, which are hurled against each other, nevertheless without touching them. She looses merely the extremity of her tail. Meanwhile the raging billows make the vessel whirl about: the rowtrs shriek; but the pilot reproves and orders them to keep steady, and to ply the oars with all their might, in order to escape from the torrent, which carries them along; they are brought back by the waves into the midst of the rocks. Their terror is extreme and death seems suspended over their heads. The vessel, carried to the top of the waves, rises even higher than the rocks, only to be precipitated the next moment into the abyss of the waters. At that moment Minerva pushes the vessel with her right, while supporting herself with the left hand against one of the rocks, and makes it fly on the deep with the rapidity of an arrow; scarcely had it suffered the slightest damage.

The Goddess gratified of having saved the vessel, returns to the Olympus, and the rocks settle down, conformably with the dictates of Destiny. The Argonauts, being thus once more in the enjoyment of an open sea, thought that they had been, so to say, drawn out from. the abyss of Hell. On this occasion Tiphys makes a speech, in which he explains them all {p.192} what they owed to the skill of their manoeuvres, or figuratively speaking, to the protection of Minerva, and tells them to remember, that it is the same Goddess, under whose direction their vessel had been constructed, which on that account was imperishable. The passage of the Cyanpean rocks was much dreaded by navigators; and it is still so up to this day. Much skill and prudence was wanted in order to make this passage. Here is the foundation of those frightful tales, which were repeated by all the poets. It was the same with the straits of Sicily. It is thus that poetry has sown everywhere the charm of the marvellous, and has covered Nature's phenomena with the veil of allegory.

Plying their oars without relaxation, the Argonauts had meanwhile already passed the mouth of the impetuous Rhebas; also that of Phyllis, where Phryxus had in olden times immolated his Ram. At twilight they arrive near a deserted island, called Thynias. where they effect a landing. There, Apollo appeared to them. That God had left Lycia, and proceeded towards the North, which happens at the passage of the Sun to the vernal equinox, or when the Sun is going to conquer the famous Ram of the constellations.

After having made a sacrifice to Apollo, the Argonauts quit the island and pass in sight of the mouth of the river Sagaris, Lycus, and of the lake Anthemuis. They arrive at the peninsula of Acherusia, which prolongs itself into the sea of Bithynia. There is a valley, where is to be found, in the midst of a forest, the cavern of Pluto and the mouth of. the Acheron.

They are favourably received by the King of the country, being an enemy of Amycus, the King of the Bebrycians, whom they had killed. This Prince and the Mariandynians his subjects, thought they saw in Pollux a beneficent Genius and a God. Lyeus, which was the name of this Prince, listens with pleasure to the narrative of their adventures; he orders all kinds of provisions to be brought on board of their vessel, and {p.193} gives them his son, in order to accompany them in their expedition: Idmon the soothsayer and Tiphys the pilot, both died here. The latter is replaced by Ancteus, who takes the management of the vessel.

They re-embark and taking advantage of a favourable wind, the navigators arrive soon at the mouth of the river Callirhce, where Bacchus in olden timles, on his return from India, celebrated feasts, accompanied by dances. They made in this place, libations over the tomb of Sthenelaus, and afterwards re-embarked.

After several days the Argonauts arrive at Sinope, where they found some of the companions of Hercules, who had settled in that country. They double afterwards the Cape of the Amazons and pass in front of the Thermodon. They finally arrive near the island of Æetias, where they are attacked by formidable birds, which infested the island. They give them chase and put them to flight.

Here they found the sons of Phryxus, who had left Colchis for Greece, and who had been driven by shipwreck on this deserted island. These unfortunate men implore the assistance of Jason, to whom they make known their birth and the object of their voyage to Greece.

The Argonauts are overjoyed at their sight, and congratulate themselves with such a lucky accidental meeting. Really, they were nothing less than the grandsons of Aeetes, the owner of the rich fleece, and the sons of Phryxus, who had been carried on the back of the famous Ram. Jason makes himself known as their kinsman, being the grandson of Cretheus, the brother of Athamas their grandfather. He tells them, that he was on his way to see Metes, without however informing them of the object of his journey. However not long after that, he communicates it to them, inviting them at the same time to come on board of his vessel and to be his guides.

{p.194} The sons of Phryxus do not conceal from him the dangers of such an undertaking, and they make principally a frightful picture of that dragon, which sleeps neither day or night, watching the rich treasure, which they desire to carry off. This information fills the Argonauts with apprehensions, except brave Peleus, who vows vengeance against Æetes, if he should refuse their request. The sons of Phryxus are received on board, and the vessel, impelled by a favourable wind, arrives in a few days at the mouth of tile river Phasis, which traverses Colchis. They lower their sails, and with the aid of their oars they ascend the river. The son of Teson, while holding in his hand a golden cup, makes libations of wine to the waters of the Phasis, he invokes the Earth, the tutelar Divinities of Colchis, and the Manes of the heroes, who had formerly inhabited it. After this ceremony, Jason, encouraged by the advice of Argus one of the sons of Phryxus, orders to come to anchor, while waiting for the return of day. Here ends the second Canto.

So far everything has passed in preparations, which were necessary, in order to bring about the principal action of the poem. The treasure, which it was the purposes to conquer, was at the outermost confines of the East. It was necessary to arrive there, before making an attempt to obtain the precious fleece either by persuasion or artifice, or by force. The poet was therefore obliged to describe such a long voyage, with all the circumstances, which are supposed to have accompanied it. Thus Virgil makes his hero travel seven years; before he arrives at Latium, to form there the projected establishment, which is the sole object of the poem. It is only at the seventh book, that the principal action commences: on this account he invokes again Erato or the Muse, which shall obtain for {p.195} his hero the hand of Lavinia, the daughter of the King of the Latins, where he wishes him to settle. Apollonius, after having conducted his hero to the shores of the Phasis, as Virgil conducts Eneas to those of the Tiber, invokes here likewise Erato or the Muse presiding over Love. He invites her to relate, how Jason succeeded to get finally possession of this rich fleece with the assistance of Medea, the daughter of Æetes, who fell in love with him. He first presents us with the spectacle of three Goddesses, Juno, Minerva and Venus, who take an interest in the success of the son of Aeson. The two first go to the palace of Venus, a description of which is given by the poet. Juno communicates to Venus her fears about the fate of Jason, whom she has taken under her protection against the perfidious Pelias, who had even insulted her. She makes the eulogy of Jason, with whom she is extremely well satisfied. Venus replies, that she is ready to do all that the spouse of the great Jupiter might request. Juno persuades Venus to request her son, of inspiring the daughter of Æetes with a passionate love for Jason, because it this hero could draw the young Princess into his interest, he would be sure to be successful in his enterprise. The Goddess of Cythera promises to induce her son to comply with the wishes of the two Goddesses, and without losing time, she goes in search of Cupid all over Olympus, and finds him in an orchard playing with young Ganymede, who had been recently admitted in the Heavens. His mother takes him by surprise and kisses him tenderly; she informs him at the same time of the wishes of the Goddesses, and explains the service, which is expected of him.

The child, seduced by the caresses of Venus and by her promises, quits his play, takes his quiver, laying at the foot of a tree, and arms himself with his, bow. He leaves the Heavens, by the gates of Olympus, traverses the air and descends to the Earth.

{p.196} Meanwhile the Argonauts lay still concealed in the shade of thickets along the shore of the river. Jason makes to them an allocution. He communicates his projects, inviting all at the. same time, to give him the benefit of their opinions. He exhorts them, to stay on board, while he would be gone to the palace of Æetes, accompanied only by the sons of Phryxus and Chalciope, with two other companions. He tells them, that his plan is, to employ at first suavity of manners and solicitations in order to obtain from the King the famous fleece. He departs with the "caduceus" in his hand and proceeds to the city of Æetes, where le arrives at the palace of that Prince. The poet gives here a description of this magnificent edifice, near which two high towers are observable. One of them was inhabited by the King and his spouse; and the other by his son Absyrtus, whom the Colchians called Phieton. It will be observed here, that Phaeton is the name of the celestial Charioteer, placed on tie equinoctial point of spring, and who experienced the tragic fate of Absyrtus, under the names of Phaeton, Myrtilus, Hyppolyte, &c.; he follows Perseus and Medusa in the Heavens.

In the other apartments resided Chalciope, the wife of Phryxus and mother of the two new companions of Jason, and her sister Medea. The latter performed the office of priestess of Hecate, who, according to traditions, had Perseus for father. Chalciope, when perceiving her sons, runs to meet them and receives them with open arms. Medea utters a cry at the sight of the Argonauts. Æetes, accompanied by his wife leaves the palace. The whole court is agitated. Meanwhile Love, without being observed, had traversed the air: he stopped under the vestibule, in order to bend his bow; then he stepped over the threshold of the door and hid himself behind Jason. Thence he shoots an arrow into the heart of Medea, who stands there mute and perplexed. Soon the fire is lighted in her heart and makes progress burning in all her veins; {p.197} her eyes sparkle with a vivid flame and are fixed on Jason. Her heart utters a sigh: a light flutter agitates her bosom; her respiration is quick; paleness and blushes succeed each other on her cheeks. The poet goes then on to narrate the reception, which Æetes gives to his grandsons, whose unexpected return surprises him. He reminds the sons of Phryxus the advice, which he had given them before their departure, in order to dissuade them from an enterprise, of the dangers of which they were well aware. He interrogates them about the strangers, who accompany him. Argus, answering in the name of both, gives a description of the storm, which had driven them on a deserted island, consecrated to Mars, from which they had been rescued solely by the succour of these navigators. At the same time he reveals to his grandfather the object of their voyage, and the terrible orders of Pelias. He is not concealing the lively interest, which Minerva takes in the success of this enterprise: she it was, who had supervised the construction of their vessel, the superiority of. which he extols, and on board of which the flower of the heroes of Greece had embarked. He introduces to him Jason, who with his companions comes to request the famous fleece.

This address renders the King furious: he is filled with indignation against the sons of Phryxus, that they could take upon themselves, to deliver such a message. As he was thus flying into passion, and menacing his grandsons as well as the Argonauts, the fiery Telamon wished to answer him in the same violent strain. But Jason checks him, and in a modest and smooth tone of voice explained to the King the motives of his voyage, with which ambition had nothing whatever to do, and which he had undertaken solely in obedience to the commands of Pelias. He promises, that should he extend to them his favours, he would on his return to Greece, publish his glory, and even give him assistance in his wars, which he might be engaged in with the Sarmatians and other neighbouring nations.

{p.198} Æetes was at first doubtful, which side he should take, respecting them, but finally resolves upon promising them, what they ask for, but under one condition, which he imposes, and the execution of which would be a sure test of their courage. He tells Jason, that he has two Bulls with feet of brass, and blowing fire from their nostrils; that he would put them to a plough, and plough up a field, consecrated to Mars, and that instead of wheat he would sow there serpents' teeth, from which suddenly warriors would rise; that he would then reap them with the point of his lance, and that all this would be executed between sunrise and sunset. He proposes to Jason to do all this likewise and promises him, that should he be successful, he would hand him over the rich deposit, which he demands. Without that there was no hope for him; because, says he, it would be unworthy of myself, to give up such a treasure to one less courageous than myself.

At this proposition Jason remains dumbfounded, not knowing what to answer, so daring seems to him this undertaking. Notwithstanding he concludes finally to accept the condition.

The Argonauts leave the palace, followed by Argus alone, who makes signs to his brothers to remain. Medea, who had perceived them, remarks above all Jason, distinguished from the rest of his companions by his youth and gracefulness. Chalciope, fearing to displease her father, retires with her children to her apartments, while her sister still follows with her eyes the hero, whose form had seduced her. When she had lost sight of him, his image remains still engraved in her memory. His speeches, his gestures, his gait and principally his reckless air, are ever present to her agitated mind. She is afraid, lest he should lose his life; she already fancies, that he would be the victim of such a dating enterprise. Tears escape her beautiful eyes; she complains bitterly about it and her best wishes for the success of this young hero accompany him. She invokes for him the succour of the Goddess, of which she is the priestess.

{p.199} The Argonauts traverse the city and take the same route, which they had followed when coming. Argus then addresses Jason, reminding him again of the magical art of Medea and that it would be of the utmost importance to draw her into his interest. He offers to take the necessary steps in regard to it, and to sound the dispositions of his mother. Jason thanks him for his proposals, which he accepts; he returns then to his vessel. His sight fills them with joy, soon to be followed by dejection, when he informs his companions of the conditions, which had been imposed upon him. Argus however tries to calm their apprehensions. He speaks to them of Medea and of her magic art, of which he narrates its wonderful effects. He takes it upon himself to obtain her assistance.

Jason, after consultation with his companions, sends Argus to the palace of his mother, while the Argonauts effect a landing on the shores of the river, where they make preparations for a fight if necessary.

Æetes meanwhile has assembled his Colchidians, in order to contrive some treacherous project against Jason and his warriors, whom he represents to his subjects as a horde of robbers, who came to spread over their country. He orders therefore his soldiers to go and attack the Argonauts, and to burn their vessel.

As soon as Argus had arrived at the apartment of his mother, he requests her to solicit the assistance of Medea in favour of Jason and his companions. The latter had already, of her own accord, taken an interest in the fate of those heroes, but she was afraid of the wrath of her father. A dream which she had and of which the poet gives a detailed account, compels her to break silence. She has already made a few steps, in order to visit her sister, when all at once she returns to her apartment, where she throws herself upon her bed, abandoning herself to the utmost grief and uttering protract- {p.200} ed groans. Chalciope, having heard of it, flies immediately to the assistance of her sister. She finds her bathed in tears and in her despair bruising her face. She asks her for the. motives of her violent agitation; and supposing it to be the effect of the repro blches of her father, of which she complains herself, she declares her desire to escape with her children far from this palace.

Medea blushes and is ashamed at first to answer; filially she breaks silence, and giving way to the dominion of love, which subjugates her, she expresses her fears about the fate of the sons of Phryxus, which her grandfather Æetes menaces with death, together with those strangers. She discloses to her the dream, which seems to presage this misfortune. Medea made those remarks, in order to sound the disposition of her sister and to see, whether she would not request her to assist her son. And actually Chalciope opens her heart to her; but before confiding her her secret, makes her take an oath, that she would keep it faithfully, and would do all, which should depend on her, in order to serve and protect her children. Speaking these words and melting in tears, she presses the knees of Medea in the attitude of a suppliant. The poet draws here a picture of the grief of both these Princesses. Medea loudly attests by all the Gods, that she is disposed to do all what her sister would ask her to do. Chalciope ventures then to speak of those strangers and particularly of Jason, in whom her children had taken so lively an interest. She confesses that her son Argus came to induce her, to solicit for them the assistance of Medea in this perilous enterprise. At these words the heart of Medea is in raptures: her beautiful face is coloured with a modest blush. She consents to do for them all, which would be asked for by a sister, to whom she has nothing to refuse, and who had been almost a mother to her. She recommends her the profoundest secrecy. She tells her, that at the break of day she would have the necessary {p.201} drugs be brought into the temple of Æceate, in order to make the terrible Bulls drowsy. Chalciope leaves her in order to inform her son of the promises of her sister. Medea, being thus left alone in her apartment, gave herself up in the interval to those reflections, which were the natural consequences of such a project.

It was already late, and Night was spreading her gloomy veil over the earth and the sea. A profound silence reigned in all Nature. The heart of Medea alone was not quiet, and sleep did not close her eyelids. Uneasy about the fate of Jason, she dreaded on his account those terrible bulls, which he had to put to the plough, and. with which hoe was obliged to plough the field consecrated to Mars.

These fears and these emotions are well described by the poet, who employs about the same comparisons as Virgil does, when he depicts the perplexity of either Aeneas or Dido. He lets the young Princess hold a soliloquy, which gives us a picture of the anxiety agitating her soul, and the irresolutions of her mind. She holds on her knees the precious box, containing her magical treasure; she is bathing it with her tears, whilst assailed with the gloomiest reflections. She awaits the return of Aurora, which finally arrives and is driving away the shades of Night. Meanwhile Argus had left his brothers in order to await the fleet of the promises of Medea, and had returned to the ship.

Daylight had again returned, and the young Princess, occupied with the cares of her toilet, had somewhat forgotten her sorrows. She had repaired the disorder of her hair, perfumed her person with essences, and had attached a white veil to her head dress. She gives orders to her maids, twelve in number and all virgins, to put the mules into harness, which had to draw her chariot to the temple of Hecate. During the interval she employs the time with preparing the poison, which she had extracted from the simples of the Caucasus, {p.202} grown from the blood of Prometheus. She mixes therewith a blackish liquor, which had been thrown up by the eagle, which had picked the liver of that famous criminal. She rubs with it the girdle, which encircles her bosom. She mounts her chariot with two maidens, one on each side, and she traverses the city, holding the reins and the whip, in order to guide the mules. Her maidens follow her, forming a cortege like that of the Nymphs of Diana, when they are ranged around the chariot of that Goddess.

The walls of the city are soon passed. When drawing near the temple, she descended from the chariot. She communicated her project to her maidens, exacting at the same time the greatest secrecy, she bids them to pluck flowers and orders them to retire, as soon as they would see the stranger make his appearance, whose plans she wishes to support.

Meanwhile the son of Æson, guided by Argus and accompanied by the soothsayer Mopsus proceeds towards the temple, where he knows that Medea would go at the break of day, Juno herself had taken care to make her charming, and by surrounding her with a shining light. The success of his undertaking is already announced by happy omens, interpreted by Mopsus. He advices Jason to see Medea alone and to converse with her, while he and Argus would wait for him. Medea in her impatience to see the hero arrive, turned her restless looks in that direction, whence Jason had to come. Finally he appears before her, like the luminary, which announces the heat of summer at the moment, when it emerges from the bosom of the waves. Here the poet gives us a description of the impression, which that sight produced on the Princess. Her eyes are clouded, her cheeks are blushing, her knees tremble, and her maidens, witness of her embarrassment, have already retired. The two lovers remain for some time dumb and confounded in each others presence. Finally Jason, being the first to find words, tries to reassure her {p.203} alarmed modesty, and begs her to open her heart to him, particularly in a place, imposing on him a religious respect for her.

He tells her, that he is already informed of her good intentions in his behalf, and of the assistance which she was kind enough to promise him. He entreats her in the name of Hecate, and of Jupiter, who protects strangers and supplicants, to interest herself in the fate of a man, who appears before her in this double quality. He assures her before hand of his entire gratitude and that of his companions, who would publish the glory of her name throughout Greece. He adds, that she alone could fulfil the wishes of their mothers and wives, who expect them, and whose eyes are fixed upon the sea, whence they had to return to their country. He mentions the example of Airadne, who interested herself in the success of Theseus, and who, after having secured the victory of that hero, embarked herself with him and left her country. In acknowledgement of this service, continued Jason, her crown has been placed in the Heavens. The glory, which awaits you, shall not be inferior, if you restore this band of heroes to the wish of Greece.

Medea, who had listened to him with down cast eyes, smiles sweetly at these words; she looks at him and wishes to answer him, without knowing where to commence her speech; her thoughts come on and confound themselves: she draws from her girdle the powerful drug, which she had concealed there. Jason takes it with extreme satisfaction: she would have given him her whole soul, if he had asked for it, so much was she smitten with the beauty of this young hero, of whom the poet has drawn here a most charming picture. Both alternately cast their eyes down or are looking at each other. Finally Medea finds, words in order to give him useful advice, which would secure him the success of his enterprise; she recommends him, that after receiving from her father Aeetes the dragon's teeth, which he should sow into the furrows, to wait the precise hour {p.204} of midnight, in order to make himself alone a sacrifice, after having washed himself in the river.

She prescribes all the requisite ceremonies, in order to render' this sacrifice agreeable to the awful Goddess: She instructs him how to use the drug, which she had given him, and with which he had to rub his weapons and his body in order to become invulnerable; she points out to him the means to destroy the warriors, which should grow from the teeth, which he should sow. Thus, adds Medea, you shall succeed to carry off the rich fleece and to bring it to Greece, if it is really true, that it is your intention to incur again the dangers of the sea. While the Princess utters these words, tears are flowing down her cheeks, at the idea of a separation from this hero, should he carry out his project of returning to distant regions. Casting down her eyes she remains silent for a short time; then she takes his hand, which she presses while saying: At least, when you shall have returned to your country, you will remember Medea, the same as she shall remember Jason, and tell me, before you part, where you intent to go. Jason moved by her tears, and pierced already by the arrows of Love, swears to her, that he shall never forget her, in case he should have the good fortune to arrive in Greece and that Agetes should not suscitcate new obstacles. He ends by giving her some details about Thessaly, and speaks of Ariadne, in answer to some enquiries of Medea about her; he manifests his desire of being as fortunate as Theseus was. He invites her to accompany him to Greece, where she would enjoy add the consideration, which she merited; he makes her the offer of his hand, and swears to her eternal faithfulness.

This speech of Jason flatters and soothes the heart of Medea, even when she could not dissemble the misfortunes, with which she was menaced, if she should resolve to follow him.

Meanwhile she is expected by her maidens with impatience, and the hour had arrived, when the Princess had to return to {p.205} her mother's palace: she did not perceive the moments, which flooded away by far more rapidly than she desired, had not Jason prudently advised her to retire, before night should surprise them, and that somebody might. suspect her meeting.

They make an appointment for some other time, and they separate. Jason returns to his ship, and Medea rejoins her maidens, which she does not notice, so much was her mind occupied with other ideas: she remounts again the chariot and returns to the Kings palace. She is questioned by her sister Chalciope about the fate of her children, she hears nothing and answers nothing; she sits down on a chair near the bed, and there immersed in the profoundest grief, she resigns herself to the gloomiest reflections.

Jason on his return on board, informs his companions of the success of his interview, and shows them the powerful antidote, with which he is provided. The night passes, and the next morning at daybreak the Argonauts send to the King, in order to demand the dragon's teeth. They are handed over to them, and they give them to Jason, who on this occasion plays absolutely the part of Cadmus. This confirms the identity of these two heroes, whose name is that of the Serpentarius, or of the constellation, which rises in the evening, when the Sun enters the sign of the Bull, and the Ram with the golden fleece precedes its chariot. Meanwhile the brilliant Star of Day had. dived into the bosom of the waves and Night had put her black coursers to her chariot. The sky was serene and the air was calm. In the silence of the night Jason offers a sacrifice to the Goddess, who there presides. Hecate hears him with favour and appears to him under the form of a terrible spectre. Jason is astonished but not discouraged, and soon after rejoins his companions.

The summits of Causasus, whitened with eternal snow were now shown by Aurora. King Æetes, invested with the formidable armour, which had been given to him by the God of {p.206} battles, was now preparing to depart for the field of wars. His head was covered with a helmet, the dazzling splendour of which offered the image of the disk of the Sun at the moment, when it rises from the bosom of Thetis. Before him he held an enormous shield, formed of several hides, and in his hand he balanced such a formidable spear, that none of the Argonauts could have resisted it, except Hercules; but that hero was no more with them. At his side was his son Phaeton; he held the coursers, which had been put to the chariot, to be mounted by his father. He now takes the reins, and advances through the city, followed by a multitude of people.

Jason on his part, following the counsel given him by Medea, rubs his weapons with the drug received from her, which was to strengthen their temper. He rubs also his body with it, which acquires new vigour and a force, which nothing could resist. He wields proudly his weapons, displaying his muscular arms. He proceeds to the field of Mars, where Æetes and his Colchians are already waiting for him. Jason was the first to leap from his vessel, all accoutred and armed, ready for the combat: he might have been taken for the God Mars himself. With complete self-possession he takes a view of the field, which he has to plough; he sees the brazen yoke, to which he must put the terrible bulls, and the rough ploughshare, with which he has to plough the field. He approaches, and thrusts his lance into the ground; he fixes his helmet and advances merely armed with his shield, in order to look for the bulls with the fiery breath They rush at once out from their gloomy den, covered by a dense smoke. Fire is darting from their large nostrils with an impetuous noise. The Argonauts are frightened at that sight, but the intrepid Jason holds his shield before him and awaits them with firmness, like an immovable rock would present its sides to the foaming wave. The impetuous bulls make a thrust at him with their horns, without being able to make him stagger. The {p.207} air resounds with their awful lowing. The flames gushing out from their nostrils, resemble to that vortex of fire, which a fiery furnace is blazing out, and which successfully enters and breaks out again with renewed violence. Very soon is the activity of the flame weakened by the magical force of the drug, with which the body of the hero had been rubbed. The invulnerable Jason takes one of the bulls by the horns and with his brawny arm puts it under the yoke, while throwing it down; he does the same with the other, and thus he conquers them both.

Such is Theseus or the Sun under another name, who on the field of Marathon overcomes that same Bull, which was placed afterwards in the Heavens, and which figures here in the fable of Jason, or of the conquering star of winter, triumphing over the equinoctial Bull. This is that Bull which has been subjugated also by Mithras.

Æetes remains confounded at the sight of such an unexpected victory. Already is Jason, after having put the bulls to the yoke, driving them on with the point of his lance; and making the plough go ahead: he has already ploughed up several furrows notwithstanding the hardness of the ground, which scarcely yields to the plough and breaks up with noise. He sows the dragon's teeth, unyokes the bulls and returns to his vessel. But Giants, which had sprung from the furrows, which he had ploughed, covered the field all armed. As soon as Jason had returned, he attacked them, and throws an enormous rock in the midst of their serried ranks; many are crushed by it; others kill each other, while contending among themselves about the rock, which had been thrown amongst them. Jason takes advantage of their disorder in order to charge them sword in hand, and the steel of the hero makes an ample harvest of them. They fall one above the other, and the earth, which had brought them forth, receives their corpses in her bosom. Æetes. remains spellbound and is {p.208} grieved by this spectacle. He returns to the city lost in meditation and planning new snares for the ruin of Jason and his companions. The setting in of Night ends this combat.

Æetes is uneasy and suspects his daughters, of combining with the Argonauts. Medea perceives it, and is alarmed on that account. In her despair she was going to the last extremities, when Juno suggests her the plan to escape with the sons of Phryxus. She is re-animated by this idea. Hiding in her bosom the treasures contained in her magic box and the mighty herbs, she kisses her bed and the doors of her apartment and cutting off a ringlet of her hair, leaves it as a remembrance to her mother. She gives utterance to her profound grief and addresses to all a last and sad farewell. Shedding floods of tears, she escapes furtively from the palace, the gates of which open by her enchantments. She was barefoot; with her left-hand she supported the extremity of a light veil falling from her forehead, while she lifted up the folds of her dress with her right. Medea traverses thus the city with nimble foot, by taking by-streets, and is soon outside the city walls, without being discovered by the sentinels. She continues her flight in the direction of the temple, the roads of which she is well acquainted with, having often been in the habit of gathering herbs, growing among the tombs in its neighbourhood. Her heart beats quicker for fear of a surprise. The Moon, which looks down upon her, remembers her love with Endymion, of which that of Medea and Jason appears to her to be the image. On that occasion, the poet makes that Goddess address Medea, while she is fleeing across the plain, into the arms of her lover. Her steps are along the shores of the river in the direction of the camp-fires of the Argonauts. Her voice is heard amidst the shades of Night. She calls for Phrontis, the youngest of the sons of Phryxus, who recognizes {p.209} instantly with his brothers and Jason, the voice of the Princess: the rest of the Argonauts are surprised. She calls thrice, and thrice she is answered by Phrontis. The Argonauts row towards the shore, on which her lover is the first to leap, in order to receive her. He is quickly followed by the two sons of Phryxus, Phrontis and Argus. Medea falls on her knees exclaiming: friends, save me, save yourselves, we are lost, all is discovered. Let us quickly go on board, before the king has harnessed his coursers. I shall deliver into your hands the fleece, after having put to sleep the terrible Dragon, which keeps watch. over it. And thou, O Jason, remember the oaths, which thou has made to me; and if I leave my country and my parents, that you will take care of my reputation and of my honour. Thou hast promised it to me, and the Gods are my witnesses.

Medea's address showed heartfelt grief: Jason at the contrary rejoiced, and his heart was filled with gladness. He raises her from her kneeling position, he embraces her tenderly, and restores her courage. He calls the Gods, Jupiter and Juno to witness his oath, to make her his wife at the instant when he should return to his country. At the same time he takes her by the hand in sign of their union. Medea advises the Argonauts, to push their vessel quickly onward to the sacred grove, where the precious fleece lay concealed in order to carry it off under cover of the night, and unknown to Æetes. Her commands are executed and she goes herself on board the vessel, which has already distanced the shore. The wave foams rustling under the edge of the oar. Once more Medea turns her looks towards the land, and extends to it her arms. Jason consoles her by his exhortations and raises again her courage. It was at that moment of the night, which precedes the return of Aurora, of which the hunter takes advantage. Jason and Medea land in a meadow, where formerly rested the Ram, which carried Phryxus to Colchis. They {p.210} perceive the altar, raised by the son of Athamas, and on which he had made a sacrifice of this Ram to Jupiter. The two lovers proceed alone to the wood, in order to find the sacred beech tree, on which the fleece was suspended. At the foot of the tree they perceived an enormous Dragon already unrolling its tortuous folds, ready to pounce upon them, and the horrible hisses of which carry terror far and near. The young Princess advances towards it, after having invoked the God of Sleep and the dreadful Hecate. Jason follows her although seized with fear. Already overcome by the enchantments of Medea, the monster stretched out on the ground the thousand folds of his immense body: nevertheless his head was still raised, menacing our hero and the Princess. Medea shakes over his eyes a branch steeped in a soporific water. The Dragon thus made drowsy, drops down and falls asleep. Jason immediately seizes the fleece and carrying it off, returns with it and with Medea quickly on board the vessel, where he was expected. Already has he cut with his sword the cable, which fastened it to the shore and taken his place near the pilot Ancaeus along with Medea, while the vessel, propelled by vigorous pulls of the oars, strives to gain the high sea.

Meanwhile the Colchians headed by their King, were hurrying in crowds to the shore, which they made re-echo with threatening shouts; but the ship Argo was already rowing in the open sea. In his despair the King invokes the vengeance of the Gods, and gives orders to his subjects to pursue the foreigners, who had robbed the precious deposit and had ravished his daughter. His orders are obeyed; they embark, and go in pursuit of the Argonauts.

The latter propelled by a favourable wind, arrive at the end of three days at the mouth of the river Halys. They land on the coast, and by the advice of Medea they offer a sacrifice to Hecate. There they hold council, in order to decide on the route, which they had to take in returning to their country. {p.211} They resolve to gain the mouth of the Danube and to ascend that river.

During that time their enemies had divided into two parties: one of which had taken the way of the straits and of the Cyanmean rocks, while the other was taking also the route of the Danube. Absyrtus or Phaeton, the brother of Medea, was at the head of the latter. The Colchians enter by one pass of the river; the Argonauts by the other. They land on an island consecrated to Diana, and there they deliberated, whether they should not make a compromise with their enemies, by consenting to give up Medea, provided they should be permitted to carry off the Golden fleece. It is here that Absyrtus perished by the hand of Jason, drawn into a snare, which had been laid for him by his sister. The Colchians without a leader are soon defeated. Escaped from this danger, the Argonauts ascended the river and reach Illyricum and afterwards the sources of the Eridanus. Then they enter the Mediterranean Sea, and sailing along the coast of Etruria, they land on the island of Circe, daughter of the Sun, in order to be purified of the murder of Absyrtus: thence they sailed before the wind towards Sicily. They perceive the isles of the Sirens and the rocks of Charybdis and of Scylla, from which they escape. Finally they arrive at the island of Pheacia, where Alcinous reigned, who received them favourably. Their happiness is however soon disturbed by the arrival of the fleet of the Colchians. which had pursued them by the way of the Bosphorus. Alcinous saves them from this new danger, and Jason marries Medea in that island. At the end of seven days, the Argonauts re-embark; they are however thrown by a violent storm on the coasts of Lybia, in the vicinity of the redoubtable Syrtes; they traverse the sands, carrying their vessel on their shoulders during twelve days; they arrive at the garden of the Hesperides, and launching into the Sea again, they land at night time at Crete; afterwards they reach {p.212} the island of Ægina and finally the port of Pagasus, whence they had set out on their voyage.

We have abridged the narrative of their return, as well as their voyage, because both are merely the accessory parts of the poem, the sole action of which is the conquest of the golden fleece, after the defeat of the Bulls and of the terrible Dragon. That is the really astronomical part and as it were the centre, in which all the other fictions of the poem come to end. The poet had to sing an important epoch of the solar revolution, that in which the Star of Day, the conqueror of Winter and of Darkness, brought on by the polar Dragon, arrives at the celestial sign of the Bull, and brings Spring along in the train of its chariot, which is preceded by the celestial Ram, or the sign preceding the Bull.

This happened every year in March, at the rise in the evening of the Serpentarius Jason, and at the rising in the morning of Medusa and of Phæton, the son of the Sun. It was in the East, that the people of Greece saw the famous Ram arise, which seemed to be born in the climates, where they located Colchis, or in other words at the eastern extremity of the Black Sea. In the evening they perceived in the same places the Serpentarius, who in the morning at the rising of the Ram', was seemingly descending into the waves of the western Seas. This is the simple canvass, on which this whole fable had been embroidered. It is this singular phenomenon, which furnishes the matter for those poems, which were called by the Ancients: Argonautics, or the expedition of Jason and the Argonauts. The great navigator is the Sun: his vessel is also a constellation, and the Ram, which he is going to conquer, is likewise one of the twelve signs, namely the one, which in those remote ages, announced the happy return of Spring.

We shall very soon meet again with the same Dragon at the foot of a tree, bearing apples, which cannot be gathered with {p.213} out rendering unhappy those, who had the imprudence to pluck them. We shall also see the same Ram under the name of Lamb, to be the object of veneration of the Initiates, who under its auspices, enter the Holy City, where the gold shines on all sides, and all that, after the defeat of the redoubtable Dragon. Finally we are going to see Jesus, conqueror of the Dragon, attired with the spoils of the Lamb or of the Ram, re-conduct his faithful companions to the celestial land, like Jason: this is, what is shown, under other names, by the fables of Eve and of the Serpent, by that of the triumph of Christ Lamb over the ancient Dragon, and by that of the Apocalypse. The astronomical foundation and the epoch of the time are absolutely the same.

AN EXPLANATION OF THE FABLE, IN WHICH THE SUN
IS WORSHIPPED UNDER THE NAME OF CHRIST

If there is one fable, which would seem entitled to escape the analysis, which we have undertaken of religious poems and sacred legends, by the laws of physical and astronomical science, it is doubtless that of Christ, or the legend, which under that name is really dedicated to the worship of the Sun. The hatred, which the sectarians of that religion,—jealous to make their form of worship dominant over all others,—have shown against those, who worshipped Nature, the Sun, the Moon and the Stars, against the Roman Deities, whose temples and altars they have upset,—would suscitate the idea, that their worship did not form a part of that otherwise universal religion. But the error of a people about the true object of its worship has never proved anything else but its own ignorance. Because, if in the opinion of the Greeks, Hercules and Bacchus were men, who had been raised to the ranks of Gods; and if in the opinion of the people of Egypt, Isis was a benevolent Queen, who had formerly reigned over Egypt, the worship of Bacchus, of Hercules and of Isis would be nevertheless the worship of the Sun and the Moon.

The Romans ridiculed the Deities, which were worshipped on the shores of the Nile; they proscribed Anubis, Isis and Serapis, and yet they worshipped themselves Mercury, Diana, Ceres and Pluto, in other words, absolutely the same Gods under other names and under different forms; so much is the ignorant vulgar swayed by names. Pluto said, that the {p.215} Greeks had worshipped since the remotest antiquity, the Sun, the Moon and the Stars, and yet the same Pluto was not aware, that they had still preserved at his time the same Gods under the names of Hercules and Bacchus, of Apollo, Diana and Aesculapius, &c., as we have shown in our larger work. Convinced of this truth, that the opinions, which a nation has of the character of its religion, proves nothing else but its faith, and does not change its nature, we shall carry our investigations even- into the very sanctuaries of modern Rome, and we shall find that the God Lamb, which they worship there, is the ancient Jupiter of the Romans, who frequently takes the same forms under the name of Ammon, in other words, those of the "Ram" or of the "vernal Lamb;" that the conqueror of the Prince of Darkness at Easter, is the same God, who triumphs in the poem of the Dionysiacs over Typhon at the same epoch, who redeems the evil, which the Chief of Darkness had introduced into the World under the form of a serpent, with which form Typhon was invested. We shall also recognize there under the name of Peter, old Janus with his keys and his bark, at the head of the twelve Deities of the twelve months, the altars of which are at his feet. We feel, that we shall have to overcome a great many prejudices, and that those, who agree with us, that Bacchus and Hercules are nothing else, but the Sun, will not easily agree, that the worship of Christ is nothing more, than the worship of the Sun.

But let them reflect, that the Greeks and the Romans would have willingly yielded their opinion on the evidences, which we shall produce, when they would not have so easily consented to the point, of not recognizing in Hercules and Bacchus Heroes and Princes, who had merited by their achievements, to be raised to the rank of the Gods. Every one takes good care, to guard against anything, which might destroy the illusion of an ancient prejudice, which education, example and the habit of believing have fortified. Thus, notwithstanding {p.216} the clearest evidence, with which we shall support our assertions, we only hope to convince the wise man, who reflects; the sincere friend of truth, disposed to sacrifice to it his prejudices, whenever it shall become evident to him. It is but too true, that we write only for him; the rest is devoted to ignorance and to the priests, who live at the expense of the credulity of the people, which they lead like a vile drove.

We shall therefore not investigate, whether the Christian religion is a revealed religion. None but dunces will believe in revealed ideas and in ghosts. The philosophy of our days has made too much progress, in order to be obliged to enter into a dissertation on the communications of the Deity with man, excepting those, which are made by the light of reason and by the contemplation of Nature. We shall not even begin with a disquisition, whether there ever existed a philosopher or an impostor, called Christ, who might have established the religion, known by the name of Christianism; because, supposing even, that we should give up this last point, the Christians would not be satisfied with it, if we did not go so far, as to acknowledge in Christ an inspired man, a son of God, a God himself, crucified for our sins; yes indeed, it is a God, which they want, a God, who in times of yore should have taken his dinner on Earth, and whom they eat nowadays. Now we have not the remotest idea of carrying our condescensions so far as that. With regard to those, who would be satisfied, if we should make of him simply a philosopher or a man, without attributing to him a divine character, we invite them to examine that question, when we shall have analysed the worship of the Christians independently of him or of those, who may have established it, that this institution is due either to one or more men, or that its origin dates from the reign of Augustus or Tiberius, as the modern legend would seem to indicate, and as it is commonly believed; or that it is traced up to a higher antiquity, and that it takes its {p.217} source in the Mithraic worship, as established in Persia, in Armenia, in Cappadcocia and even at Rolle, as we believe it has been the case. The important point, is to understand thoroughly the nature of the worship of the Christians, whosoever may be its author. Now it will not be very difficult to prove, that it is again the worship of Nature and of the Sun, her first and most brilliant agent; tat that he hero of the legends known by the name of the Gospel, is the same hero, who has been sung, only with far more genius, in the poems on. Bacchus, on Osiris, on Hercules, on Adonis.

When we shall have shown,—that the pretended history of a God, born of a Virgin at the winter solstice, who resuscitates at Easter or at the equinox of spring, after having descended into hell; of a God, who has twelve apostles in. his train, whose leader has all the attributes of Janus; of a God-conqueror of the Prince of Darkness, who restores to mankind the dominion of Light, and who redeems the evils of Nature—is merely a solar fable, like all those, which we have analysed, it will be quite as indifferent, or of as little consequence to examine, whether there ever existed a man by the name of Christ, as it would be to enquire, whether some Prince was called Hercules, provided it will be conclusively demonstrated, that the being, consecrated by worship under the name of Christ, is the Sun, and that the marvelousness of the legend or of the same poem, has that luminary for its object; because it would seem then to be proved, that the Christians are mere worshippers of the Sun, and that their priests have the same religion as those of Peru, whom they have caused to be put to death. Let us then examine the foundations, on which the dogmas of this religion rest.

The first basis is the existence of a great disorder having been introduced into the World by a Serpent, which had tempted a woman, to pluck forbidden fruits; a trespass, which had for consequence, the knowledge of evil, until then unknown {p.218} to man, and which could only be redeemed by a God conqueror of death and of the Prince of Darkness. This is the fundamental dogma of the Christian religion; because in the opinion of the Christians, the incarnation of Christ had become necessary, merely, because he had to redeem the Evil introduced into the Universe by the Serpent, which had seduced the first woman and the first man. These two dogmas cannot be separated from each other: if there is no sin, there is no atonement; if there is no trespasser, then no redeemer is required. Now this fall of the first man, or this supposition of the double state of man, who had been created first by the principle of Good, enjoying all the benefits, with which the World is filled by it, and afterwards passing under the dominion of the principle of Evil, into a state of unhappiness and degradation, from which he could not be saved except by the principle of Good and of Light,—is a cosmogonic fable, of the nature of those, which were made by the Magi on Ormuzd and Ahriman, or rather it is merely a "copy" of them. Let us consult their books. We have already seen in the IV Chapter of this work, how the Magi had represented the World under the emblem of an egg, divided into twelve parts, six of which belonged to Ormuzd or the God author of Good and of Light, and the six others to Ahriman, author of Evil and of Darkness; and how the good and the evil in Nature was the result of the combined action of these two principles. We have likewise observed, that the six portions of the reign of the good principle, included the six mouths, which follow the equinox of spring, up to that of autumn, and that the six portions of the reign of the bad principle comprised the six months of autumn and winter. In this manner was the time of the annual revolution distributed between these two Chiefs, one of which organized the animal creation, ripened the fruits; and the other destroyed the effects, which had been produced by the first, and disturbed the harmony, of which Heaven and Earth {p.219} offered the spectacle during the six months of spring and summer. This cosmogonical idea has also been expressed by the Magi in another manner. They suppose, that from time without end or from eternity, a limited period had been created, which incessantly renews itself. They divide this period into twelve thousand small parts, which they call years in allegorical style. Six thousand of these fractions belong to the principle of Good, and the other six to that of Evil; and that there may be no mistake, they make each one of these millesimal divisions, or each one thousand, correspond to one of the signs, through which the Sun makes the transit during each one of the twelve months. The first one thousand, they say, corresponds to the "Lamb," the second to the Bull, the third to the Twins, &c. Under these first six signs, or under the signs of the first six months of the equinoctial year, they place the reign and the beneficent action of the principle of Light, and under the other six signs, they place the action of the principle of Evil. It is at the seventh sign, corresponding to the Balance, or at the first of the signs of autumn, of the season of fruits and of winter, that they place the commencement of the reign of Darkness and of Evil. This reign lasts until the return of the Sun to the sign of the Lamb, which corresponds to the month of March and to Easter. This is the foundation of their theological system about the distribution of the opposing forces of the two principles, to the action of which, man is subject, during each solar revolution; this is the tree of Good and of Evil, near which Nature has placed him. Let us hear their own statements.

Time, says the author of the Boundesh, is composed of twelve thousand years: the thousands belonging to God, include the Lamb, the Bull, the Twins, the Cancer, the Lion and the Ear of Corn or the Virgin, which makes six thousand years. If we substitute for the word "year," that of the fractions, or small periods of time, and for the name of the signs, {p.220} those of the months, and we shall have March, April, June, July and August, in other words: the beautiful months of periodical vegetation. After those thousands of God comes the Balance. Then began the career of Ahriman in the World. After that cones the Bowman or the Sagittarius, and "Afrasiab" committed the Evil, &c.

If we substitute for the names of the signs, or of the Balance, the Scorpion, the Sagittarius and the Capricorn, the Waterman and the Fishes, those of the months of September, October, November, December, January and February, we shall have the six times affected by the principal of Evil and its effects, which. are the hoary frosts, the snow, the winds, and excessive rains. It will be observed, that the evil Genius begins to exercise his fatal influence in September or in the season of fruits and of apples, by the introduction of cold weather, by the destruction of plants, &c. It is then, that man becomes aware of the evils, which he ignored in spring and summer in the beautiful climates of the northern hemisphere.

This is the idea which the author of the Genesis wanted to express in the fable of the woman, who, being seduced by a serpent, plucks the fatal apple, which, like Pandora's box, was the source of evil to mankind. The supreme God, says the author of Miodimel el Tawa'rk, created first Man and the Bull in an elevated place, "and they remained there three thousand years, without experiencing any evil. These three thousand years include the Lamb, the Bull and the Twins. Afterwards they remain on Earth, other three thousand years, without trouble or adversity, and these three thousand years correspond to the Cancer, the Lion, the Ear of Corn or the Virgin." Here are then the above mentioned. six thousand under the name of the six thousands of God, and the signs assigned to the reign of the principle of Good.

{p.221} "After that, with the seventh thousand, corresponding to the Balance, or in other words to September, according to our mode of counting, the Evil made its appearance, and man began to till the ground." In another place of this cosmogony, it is said: "that the whole duration of the World, from the beginning to the end, had been fixed at twelve thousand years; that man remained in the upper part, in other words in the boreal and upper hemisphere three thousand years without evil. He remained still other three thousand years in the same condition, when Ahriman showed himself afterwards, engendering evils and strife in the seventh thousand, in other words, under the sign of the Balance, over which the celestial Serpent is placed. It was then, when the Good and the Evil commingled." Here then, where the boundaries of the dominion of the two principles touched each other, there was the point of contact of Good and of Evil, where, to speak in the allegorical language of the Genesis the tree of knowledge of Good and of Evil was planted, which man could not touch, without coming immediately under the dominion of the principle of Evil, to which belong the signs of autumn and of winter. Until that time he had been Heaven's favourite. Ormuzd had lavished all his blessings on him; but this God of Goodness had a rival and an enemy in Ahriman, who would poison his most precious gifts, and man became his victim at the moment, when the God of Day retreated towards the southern climates. Then would the nights resume their dominion, and Ahriman's deadly blast, under the form and under the ascendant of the Serpent of the constellations, would lay waste the beautiful gardens, where man had been placed by Ormuzd. Here is the theological idea, which the author of the Genesis took from the cosmogony of the Persians, ornamenting it after his own fashion. Zoroaster, or the author of the Genesis of the Magi, {p.222} expresses himself as follows, when describing the consecutive action of the two principles. Ormuzd, he says, the God of Light and of the good principle, informs Zoroaster, that he had given to man a place of delight and abundance. "If I had not given him this place of delight, no other being would have done so. This place was called 'Eiren,' which at the beginning was more beautiful than all the World, which my power has called into existence. Nothing could equal the beauty of this delightful place, which I had granted. I was the first, who acted, and afterwards Petiare (which is Ahriman, or the bad principle): this Petiare Ahriman, full of death and corruption, made in the river the great 'Adder,' the mother of winter, which congealed the water, the earth and the trees."

According to the formal expressions used in this cosmogony, it follows, that the evil introduced into the World, is the winter. Who shall be its redeemer? The God of spring or the Sun in its passage under the sign of the Lamb the forms of which are taken by the Christ of the Christians, because he is "the Lamb, that taketh away the sins of the World," and under this emblem is he represented in the monuments of the first Christians.

It is evident, that the question here is only of the physical and periodical evil, which the Earth experiences annually by the retreat of the Sun, which is the source of life and of light for all that lives on the surface of our globe. This cosmogony contains therefore only an allegorical picture of the phenomena of Nature and of the influence of the celestial signs; because the Serpent, or the great Adder, which ushers winter into the World, is, like the Balance, one of the constellations placed on the boundaries, which separate the dominion of the two principles, or in other words, in the present instance, on the equinox of autumn. This therefore is the true Serpent, the forms of which are taken by Ahriman in the fable of the {p.223} Magi, as also in that of the Jews, in order to introduce the Evil into the World; for this reason call the Persians this malevolent Genius the Star Serpent and the celestial Serpent, the Serpent of Eve. It is in Heaven, that they make Ahriman creep along, under the form of a Serpent. The Boundesh, or the Genesis of the Persians holds the following language: "Ahriman, or the principle of Evil and of Darkness, he from whom all the Evil in this World is proceeding, penetrated into Heaven under the form of a Serpent, accompanied by Dews or bad Genii, whose only business is to destroy." And in an other place he says: "When the bad Genii desolated the World, and when the Star Serpent made itself a road between Heaven and Earth, or in other words: when it rose on the horizon, &c."

Now, at what epoch of the annual revolution rises the celestial Serpent, united to the Sun, on the horizon with that luminary? When the Sun has arrived at the Balance, over which the constellation of the Serpent is extended, in other words, at the seventh sign, counting from the Lamb, or at the sign under which, as we have seen above, the Magi had fixed the commencement of the reign of the evil principle and the introduction of the Evil into the Universe.

The cosmogony of the Jews introduces the Serpent with a man and a woman. In it the Serpent is made to speak; but one feels, that all this is peculiar to the oriental genius and belongs to the character of the allegory. The foundation of the theological idea is absolutely the same, It is quite true, there is no mention made by the Jews about the Serpent having introduced winter, which destroyed all the blessings of Nature; but it is said there, that man felt the necessity of covering himself, and that he was compelled to till the ground, an operation, which is performed in and which corresponds to autumn. It is not said, that it was at the seventh thousand or under the seventh sign, when the change happened in the {p.224} situation of man; but the action of the good principle is there divided into six times, and it is on the seventh, that its rest or the cessation of its energy is placed, as well as the fall of man in the season of fruits and the introduction of the Evil by the Serpent, the forms of which was taken by the bad principle, or the Devil, in order to tempt the first mortals. They fix the locality of the scene in the same countries, which are comprised under the name of Eiren or Iran, and towards the sources of the great rivers Euphrates, Tigris, Phison or of the Araxes; only instead of Eiren, the Hebrew copyists have put Eden, as the two letters, "r" and "d," in that language, have a remarkable resemblance. In the Hebrew Genesis the millesimal expression, which is employed in that of the Persians, is not used; but the Genesis of the ancient Tuscans, conceived for the remainder in the same terms, as that of the Hebrews, has preserved this allegorical denomination of the divisions of time, during which the all-powerful action of thle Sun, the soul of Nature is exercised. Its expressions on this point, are as follows:

"The God architect of the Universe has employed and consecrated twelve thousand years to the works, which like has produced, and he has divided them into twelve times, distributed in the twelve signs, or houses of the Sun.

At the third, he made the Sea and the waters which flow upon the Earth (dans la terre).

At the fifth, he made the spirit (âme) of the birds, of the reptiles, of the animals, which live in the air, on land and in the waters.

"It should seem," adds the author, "that the first six thousand years having preceded the formation of man, the {p.225} human species must subsist during the six other thousand years, so that the whole time for the construction of this great work, must have been within a period of twelve thousand years." We have seen, that this period was a fundamental dogma in the theology of the Persians, and that it was divided into equal portions between the two principles. These expressions of "thousands" were replaced by days in the Genesis of the Hebrews; but the number six has always been preserved, as in that of the Tuscans and of the Persians. Thus the ancient Persians, according to Chardin, took the months of the year for the six days of the week, which God employed in the creation: from which it follows, that in the allegorical and mystical style, the expression of thousand years, days, ghaaambars, denote simply months, because they were made to correspond to the signs of the zodiac, which are the natural measure of it. Besides the Hebrew Genesis makes use of the same expressions as that of the Tuscans, and moreover the former has, what is wanting in the latter, the distinction of the two principles and the Serpent, which plays such a great figure in the Genesis of the Persians under the name of Ahriman and of the Star Serpent. The one, which unites the features, common to the two cosmogonies, to wit, that of the Persians, and which gives the key to the two others, seems to be the original cosmogony. We shall see therefore throughout the whole of this work, that it is principally the religion of the Magi, from which that of the Christians is derived.

We shall now look therefore for anything else in the Genesis of the Hebrews, which we shall not find ill that of the Magi and we shall see in those marvellous tales, certainly not the history of the first; men, but only the allegorical fable made by the Persians on the state of mankind, subject as it is, here below to the empire of the two principles, in other words, the great mystery of the universal administration of the World., which {p.226} is consecrated in the theology of all nations, and delineated in all manner of forms in the ancient Initiations, as taught by legislators, by philosophers, by poets and theologians, according to the information given by Plutarch. Allegory was then the veil with which sacred science enveloped itself, in order to inspire more respect to the Initiates or Neophytes, if we may believe Sanchoniathon on the subject.

The Hebrew Doctors themselves, as well as the Christian Doctors agree, that the books, which we attributed to Moses, were written ill the allegorical style, that they frequently represent quite a different meaning, than the literal sense would indicate, and that it would lead to false and absurd notions of the Deity, if we should hold on to the rind, which covers sacred science. It is principally the first and second chapters of the Genesis, that they have acknowledged to contain a hidden and allegorical sense, of which they say we must carefully abstain from giving the interpretation to the vulgar.

"We must not understand or take in a literal sense, what is written in the book on the creation, nor form of it the same ideas, which are participated by the generality of mankind, otherwise our ancient sages would not have so much recommended to us, to hide the real meaning of it, and not to lift the allegorical veil, which covers the truth contained therein. When taken in its literal sense, that work gives the most absurd and most extravagant ideas of the Deity. Whosoever should divine its true meaning, ought to take great care in not divulging it. This is a maxim, repeated to us by all our sages, principally concerning the understanding of the work of the six days. It is possible, that somebody, either through himself, or by means of the light obtained from others, may succeed to divine its meaning; then let him be silent, or if he speaks of it, let it be done only in as {p.227} veiled a manner as I do, leaving the remainder to be guessed, by those who can hear me." Maimonides adds, that the enigmatical talent was not peculiar to Moses or to the Jewish Doctors, but that they held it in common with all the wise men of antiquity; and he is right in that, at least in so far as the Orientals were concerned.

Philo, a Jewish writer, held the same opinion of the character of the sacred Books of the Hebrews. He has made two particular treatises, bearing the title: "of the Allegories," and he traces back to the allegorical sense, the tree of life, the rivers of Paradise, and the other fictions of the Genesis. Although he has not been very felicitous in his explanations, yet he has nevertheless discovered, that it would be absurd, to take these tales in a literal sense. It is acknowledged by all, who have some knowledge of the Scriptures, says Origen, that everything there is wrapped up under the veil of enigma and parable. This Doctor and all his disciples regarded, in particular the whole story of Adam and Eve, and the fable of the terrestrial Paradise, as an allegory.

Augustine, in his "City of God," acknowledges, that many people saw in the incident of Eve and the Serpent, as well as in the terrestrial Paradise, only an allegorical fiction. This Doctor, after quoting several explanations, which had been given of it, and which were drawn from morality, adds, that there might be found still better ones; that he was not opposed to it, provided always, says he, that a real history may be found in it also.

How Augustine could reconcile Fable with History, an allegorical fiction with a real fact, I am unable to comprehend. If he holds on to this reality at the risk of being illogical, it is because he has fallen into a still greater contradiction, to wit: the acknowledgement of the real mission of Christ as the redeemer of the Sin of the first man, and to see in the two first chapters of the Genesis nothing but a simple allegory. {p.228} As he wanted the redemption of the Evil (or Sin) through Christ to be a historical fact, it was of course necessary that the event of Adam and Eve and the Serpent should be equally historical; because one is inseparably connected with the other. But, on the other side, the very unlikelihood of this romance, allures him into a precious confession: that of the necessity of having recourse to the allegorical explanation, in order to escape from so many absurdities. One can say even with Beausobre, that Augustine abandoned in some measure the Old Testament to the Manicheans, who do not believe in the three first chapters of the Genesis, and that he confesses, that it was impossible to preserve its literal sense, without offending piety and without attributing to God unworthy things; that it is absolutely necessary, for the honour of Moses and his history, to have recourse to allegory. "Indeed," says Origen, "what man of common sense could ever persuade himself, that there had been a first, a second, a third day, and that each of those days had their evening and their morning, without there having been yet either Sun or Moon or Stars? What man could be silly enough to believe, that God, assuming the character of a gardener, had planted a garden in the East? That the tree of life was a real, a physical tree, the fruit of which had the power to preserve life?" &c. This Doctor continues and compares the fable of the temptation of Adam to that of the birth of Love, which had Porus or abundance for father and poverty for mother. He asserts, that there are many stories in the Old Testament, which had not occurred in the way as reported by the sacred author, and that they are nothing but fictions, hiding some secret truth.

If the Christian Doctors, if the fathers of the Church, who have been nothing less than philosophers, could not—in spite of their invincible propensity to believe everything—digest so many absurdities, and have felt the necessity of recurring to {p.229} the allegorical Key, in order to find out the sense of these sacred enigmas, we, that live in an age, where the want of reasoning is more felt, than that of believing, might as well be permitted to suppose, that these marvellous stories have the same character as that, which all antiquity has given to religious dogmas, and to lift the veil, which covers then. Indeed, everything in this romantic narrative is shocking to the common sense, if it is obstinately taken as a history of facts, which did really happen during the first days, which shone on this World. The idea of a God, or in other words, of the supreme cause, taking body just for the pleasure of taking a walk in a garden; of a woman, conversing with a serpent, listening to it, and receiving its advice; of a man and a woman, organized for reproduction, and yet destined to be immortal, and to provide an infinite other beings like themselves, who are also reproductive, and who shall live on the fruits of a garden, which shall hold them all during eternity; an apple plucked from a tree, which shall cause death, and fix the hereditary stair. of a crime on so many generations of men, who have had no hand in the theft, a crime, which shall not be forgiven so long as men shall not have committed one infinitely greater, a deicide, if it were possible, that such a crime could exist; the woman, since that epoch, condemned to bring forth with pain, as if the pains of delivery were not pertaining to her organization, and were not common to her with all other animals, which did not taste of the fatal apple; of the serpent, forced henceforth to creep, as if a reptile without feet could move otherwise: so many absurd and foolish ideas, collected in one or two chapters of this marvellous book, cannot be admitted as historical facts by any man, who has not entirely extinguished the sacred flambeau of reason in the mire of prejudice. If there should be one amongst our readers, whose courageous credulity should be capable of digesting them, we would frankly request him, to desist from {p.230} reading us, and to return to the lecture of the tales of the Ass's skin, of Blue Beard, of Tom Thumb, of the Gospel, of the life of the Saints and of the oracles of the Ass of Balaam. Philosophy is only for men; tales are for children. With regard to those, who consent in recognizing in Christ a God Redeemer, and who notwithstanding cannot resolve upon admitting the story about Adam and Eve and the Serpent, and the fall, which made redemption necessary, we shall invite them, to exculpate themselves of the reproach of inconsistency. Indeed, if the fall is not real, what becomes of redemption? Or if the facts have happened otherwise, than the text of the Genesis would make us believe, what confidence can we place in an author, who begins with deceiving at the very first pages, and whose work, notwithstanding, forms the basis of the Christian religion? If finally reduced to confess, that there is a hidden sense in it, then it is a virtual consent, that we must have recourse to allegory, and that is just the thing we are doing. Nothing remains but the examination, whether our allegorical explanation is a good one, and then let our work be judged; this is all we ask, because we are very far from requiring, that people should have also faith, when the question is raised of admitting our opinions. We are quoting texts, we give celestial positions; let them be verified; we draw from it deductions, let then be appreciated for what they are worth. The following is an abridged recapitulation of our explanation:

According to the principles of the cosmogony, or of the Genesis of the Magi—with which that of the Jews has the greatest affinity, because both put man into a delightful garden, where a Serpent introduced the Evil—there is born from the womb of time without end, or from eternity a finite period, divided into twelve parts, six of which belong to Light, and six to Darkness, six to creative action, and six to destructive action, six to the good and six to the evil of Nature. This pe- {p.231} riod is the annual revolution of Heaven or of the World, which the Magi represent by a mystical egg, divided into twelve parts, six of which belong to the Lord of Goodness and of Light and six to the Chief of Evil and of Darkness; here it is by a tree, which gives the knowledge of good and of evil, and which has twelve fruits; for it is thus described in the Gospel of Eve; there it is by twelve thousand years, six of which are called the thousands of God, and six the thousands of the Devil. These are as many emblems of the year, during which man passes successively from the dominion of light to that of darkness, from that of the long days to that of the long nights, amid experiences the physical good and evil, which follow each other in quick succession, or commingle, according to the Sun's approach to, or retreat from our hemisphere, conformably as it organizes sublunary matter through vegetation, or as it abandons it to its principle of inertia, from which follow the disorganization of bodies and the disorder, which winter produces in all elements, and on the surface of the Earth, until Spring restores the harmony again.

It is then, when fecundated by the immortal and spiritual (intelligent) action of the fire Ether, and by the heat of the Sun of the equinoctial Lamb—that Earth becomes a delightful abode for man. But when the Star of day, reaching the Balance and the celestial Serpent, or the signs of autumn, passes into the other hemisphere, then it consigns our regions by its retreat to the hardships of winter, to the impetuous winds, and to all the devastations, which the destructive Genius of Darkness commits in the World. There is no more hope for man, except the return of the Sun to the sign of Spring or to the Lamb, being the first of the signs. This is the Redeemer which he expects.

Now let us see, whether really the God of the Christians, he whom John calls the Light, "which lighteth every man that conmeth into the World," has the character of the God Sun, {p.232} worshipped by all nations under a great many names and with different attributes; and whether his fable has the same foundation, as all the other solar fables, which we have analysed. Two principal epochs of the solar movement, as we have already observed, have attracted the attention of all men. The first is that of the winter solstice, when the Sun, after seemingly abandoning us, resumes again its route towards our regions, and when the clay, in its infancy, is successively increased. The second is that of the equinox of spring when this mighty luminary spreads its fecundating heat over the whole of Nature, after its transit of the equinoctial line, which separates the reign of light from that of darkness, the abode of Ormuzd from that of Ahriman. To these two epochs have the worshippers of the Star, which dispenses light and life to the World, attached their principal feasts.

The Sun is neither born nor dies in reality: it is always as luminous as it is majestic; but in the relation, which the days, engendered by it, have with the nights, there is in this World a progressive gradation of increase and decrease, which has originated some very ingenious fictions amongst the ancient theologians. They have assimilated this generation, this periodical increase and decrease of the day, to that of man, who after having been born, grown up and reached manhood, degenerates and decreases, until he has finally arrived at the term of the career, allotted to him by Nature to travel over. The God of Day, personified in the sacred allegories, had therefore to submit to the whole destiny of man; he had his cradle and his tomb, under the names either of Hercules or of Bacchus, of Osiris or of Christ. He was a child at the winter solstice, at the moment, when the days begin to grow: under this form they exposed his image in the ancient temples, in order to receive the homage of his worshippers, "because," says Macrobius, "the day being then the shortest, this God, seems to be yet a feeble child. This is the child of the mys- {p.233} teries, he, whose image was brought out from the recesses of' their sanctuaries by the Egyptians every year on a certain day."

This is the child, of which the Goddess of Sais claimed to be the mother in that famous inscription, where these words could be read: "The fruit, which I have brought forth is the Sun." This is the feeble child, born in the midst of the darkest night, of which this virgin of Sais has delivered about the winter solstice, according to Plutarch.

This God had his mysteries and his altars and statues, representing him in the four ages of the human life.

The Egyptians are not the only people, who celebrated at the winter solstice the birth of the God Sun, or of that luminous orb, which redeems Nature every year. The Romans also fixed at that epoch the great festival of the new Sun and the celebration of the solar games, known by the name of games of the circus. They had fixed it at the eighth day before the Calends of January, to-wit: at the same day, which corresponds to our 25th of December, or on the birthday of the Sun, worshipped under the name of Mithras and Christ. This indication is to be found in a calendar which has been printed in the "Uranology" of father Petati and after the publication, of our larger work, where it reads: "On the eighth before the calends of January, 'natalis invictis,' birth of the invincible." This invincible was Mithras or the Sun. "We celebrate," says Julian the philosopher, "some days before the new year's day, the magnificent games in honour of the Sun, to which we give the title of the Invincible. Oh! could I be so happy, as to celebrate them for a long time to come; oh Sun, king of the Universe, thou, who from all eternity was engendered by the first God, of his pure substance, &c." This is a Platonic expression, because Plato called the Sun the son of God. The title of Invincible is that, which all the monuments of the Mithraic religion gives to Mithras or the Sun, to the great Di- {p.234} vinity of the Persians. "To the God Sun, the invincible Mithras."

Thus Mithras and Christ were born on the same day, and that day was the birth-day of the Sun. They said of Mithras, "that he was the same God as the Sun, that he was the Light, that lighteth every man, that cometh into the world." The birthplace of Mithras was placed in a grotto, that of Bacchus and of Jupiter in a cavern, and that of Christ in a stable. It is a parallel, which was drawn by St. Justinus himself. According to tradition, it was in a grotto that Christ was laying, when the Magi came to worship him. But who were the Magi? The worshippers of Mithras or the Sun. What presents did they bring to the newborn God? Three sorts of presents, consecrated to the Sun by the worship of the Arabs, the Chaldeans and other Orientals. By whom are they informed of this birth? By astrology their favourite science. What were their dogmas? They believed, says Chardin, in the eternity of a first Being, which is the Light. What are they presumed to do in the fable? To fulfil the first precept of their religion, which commands them to worship the newborn Sun. What name do the prophets give to Christ? That of Orient. Orient they say is his name. It is at the Orient and not in Orient, that they see his image in the Heavens. And indeed, the sphere of the Magi and of the Chaldeans painted in the Heavens a new-born babe, called Christ or Jesus; it was placed in the arms of the celestial Virgin, or the Virgin of the signs, the very same one, to which Eratosthenes gives the name of Isis, the mother of Horus. To which point of Heaven corresponded this Virgin of the spheres and her child? To the hour of midnight on the twenty-fifth December, at the same moment, when the birth of the God of the year, the new Sun or Christ is said to take place at, the eastern border, at the same point, whence the Sun of the first day rose.

{p.235} It is a fact, which is independent of all hypothesis, independent of all the consequences, which I shall draw from it, that at the precise hour of midnight on the 25th December, in the centuries, when Christianity made its appearance, the celestial sign, which rose at the horizon, and the ascendant of which presided at the opening of the new solar revolution, was the Virgin of the constellations. It is another fact, that the God Sun, born at the winter solstice, is re-united with her and surrounds her with his lustre at the time of our feast of the Assumption, or the re-union of mother and son. And still another fact is that, when she comes out heliacally from the solar rays at the moment, when we celebrate her appearance in the World, or her Nativity. I shall not examine the motive, which caused these feasts to be fixed on these days: it is sufficient for me to say, that those are three facts, which no reasoning can destroy, and out of which an attentive observer, who is well acquainted with the genius of the ancient mystagogues, may draw great consequences, unless people prefer to see in it a mere sport of the hazard; but this, it will be difficult to persuade those, who are on their guard of anything, which might mislead their reasoning faculties and perpetuate their prejudices. At all events it is certain, that this same Virgin, the only one who can become mother without ceasing to be a virgin, fills the three great functions of the Virgin, the mother of Christ, be it in the birth of her son, or in that of her own, or in her conjunction with him in the Heavens. It is chiefly her function as mother, which we shall examine here. It is but natural to suppose, that those who personified the Sun, and who made it pass through the various ages of the human life, who imagined for it a series of wonderful adventures, sung either in poems or narrated in legends, did not fail to draw its horoscope, the same as horoscopes were drawn for other children at the precise moment of their birth. This was especially the custom of the Chaldeans and of the {p.236} Magi. Afterwards this feast was celebrated under the name of "dies natalis" or the feast of the birthday. Now, the celestial Virgin, who presided at the birth of the God Day personified, was presumed to be his mother, and thus fulfil the prophecy of the astrologer, who had said: "A Virgin shall conceive and bring forth," in other words, that she shall give birth to the God Sun, like the Virgin of Sais: from this idea are derived the pictures, which are delineated in the sphere of the Magi, of which Abulmazar has given us a description, and of which Kirker, Selden, the famous Pic, Roger Bacon, Albert the Great, Blaën, Stoffler and a great many others have spoken. We are extracting here the passage from Abulmazar. "We see," says Abulmazar, "in the first decan, or in the ten first degrees of the sign of the Virgin, according to the traditions of the ancient Persians, Chaldeans, Egyptians, of Herime and of Aesculapius, a young maiden, called in the Persian language 'Seclenidos de Darzanma,' a name, when translated into Arabian by that of 'Adrenedefa,' signifies a chaste, pure and immaculate virgin, of a handsome figure, agreeable countenance, long hair and modest mien. She holds in her hand two ears of corn; she sits on a throne; she nourishes, and suckles a babe, which some call Jesus, and the Greeks call Christ." The Persian sphere, published by Scaliger as a sequel of his notes, on Manilius, gives about the same description of the celestial Virgin; but there is no mention made of the child, which she suckles. It places alongside of her a man, which can only be Bootes, called the foster-father of the son of the Virgin Isis, or of Horus.

In the national library there is an Arabian manuscript, containing the twelve signs, delineated and coloured, and there is also to be seen a young child alongside of the celestial Virgin, being represented in about the same style as our Virgins, and like an Egyptian Isis with her son. It is more than probable, {p.237} that the ancient astrologers have placed in the Heavens the infantile image of the new Sun, in the constellation, which presided over its new birth and at that of the year in the winter solstice, and that from this have originated the fictions of the God Day, conceived in the chaste womb of a virgin, because that constellation was really the Virgin. This conclusion is far more natural, than the opinion of those, who obstinately believe, that there had existed a woman, who had become mother, without ceasing to be virgin, and that the fruit engendered by her, is that Eternal Being, which moves and governs whole Nature. Thus the Greeks said, that their God with the forms of Ram or Lamb, the famous Ammon or Jupiter, was brought up by Tenemis, which is also one of the names of the Virgin of the constellations; she is also called Ceres, to whom the title of "Holy Virgin" was given, and who was the mother of young Bacchus or of the Sun, the image of which was exposed in the sanctuaries at the winter solstice, in the shape of an infant, according to Macrobius. His testimony is confirmed by the author of the Chronicle of Alexandria, who expresses himself in the following words: "The Egyptians have consecrated up to this day the child-birth of a virgin and the nativity of her son, who is exposed in a crib to the adoration of the people. King Ptolemy, having asked the reason of this custom, he was answered that it was a mystery, taught by a respectable prophet to their fathers." It is well known, that with them a prophet meant one of the Chiefs of the Initiation.

It is alleged, I do not know on what authority, that the ancient Druids paid also homage to a virgin, with this inscription: "Virgina paritura" and that her statue was in the territory of Chartres. At all events it is certain, that in the monuments of Mithras, or of the Sun, the worship of which was established in ancient times in Great Britain, there is to be seen a woman, which suckles an infant, and which can be {p.238} only the mother of the God Day. The English author, who has written a dissertation on this monument, gives the particulars of all the features, which can establish the relationship, which existed between the festivities of the birth of Christ and those of the birth of Mithras. This author, being more pious, than a philosopher, sees there festivities imagined, in conformity with the prophetic notions on the future birth of Christ. He very properly remarks, that the Mithraic worship was spread over the whole Roman Empire, and especially in Gaul and in Great Britain. He also quotes the testimony of St. Hieronymus, who complains, that the Heathens celebrated the feasts of the new-born Sun or of Adonis, also of Mithras in the same place at Bethlehem, where it was said, that Christ was born; which in our opinion, was merely the same worship under a different name, as we have shown in the fable of Adonis, dead and resuscitated like Christ.

After having demonstrated, on what astronomical foundation was reposing the fable of the incarnation of the Sun, under the name of Christ, in the womb of a virgin, we shall now examine the origin of that, which makes him die and afterwards resuscitate at the vernal equinox under the form of the Paschal Lamb.

The Sun, being the only redeemer of the evils, which winter produces, and presumed in the sacerdotal fictions to be born at the solstice, must remain yet three months more in the inferior signs, in the regions affected by evil and darkness, and there be subject to their ruler, before it makes the famous passage of the vernal equinox, which assures its triumph over Night, and which renews the face of the Earth. They must therefore make him live, during all that time, exposed to all the infirmities of mortal life, until he had resumed the rights of Divinity in his triumph. The allegorical genius of the mystagogues shall then soon compose a life for him, and Which is convenient for the end, which the Initiation proposes to ac- {p.239} complish. Thus we see Æsopus,—when he wanted to describe the strong and unjust man, oppressing the feeble,—making use figuratively of animals to perform those parts, to whom he gave opposite characters, and imagined an action, proper to attain the moral aim of his apologue. Thus did the Egyptians invent the fable of Osiris or the beneficent Sun, who travels over the Universe, in order to spread over it the countless blessings, of which he is the source, and set up in opposition to him, Typhon, the Prince of Darkness, who counteracts his actions and finally kills him. On such a simple idea as this, did they invent the fable of Osiris and Typhon, in which, one is represented as a legitimate king, and the other as the tyrant of Egypt. Besides the fragments of these ancient sacerdotal fictions, which have been transmitted to us by Diodorus and Plutarch, we have a life of Osiris and of Typhon, composed by bishop Sinesius, because in those times the bishops manufactured legends. In the one here mentioned, the adventures, the characters and the portraits of the two principles of Egyptian theology, were drawn from imagination, yet still after the idea of the character, which each of them had to play, in order to express in a fable the opposite action of the principles, which counteract and contend with each other in Nature. The Persians had also their history of Ormuzd and Ahriman, which contained the account of their battles, and of the victory of the good over the bad principle. The Greeks had a life of Hercules and of Bacchus, which contained the history of their glorious exploits and of the blessings, which they had spread over the whole Earth; and those narrations were ingenious poems, the production of learned men. The history of Christ on the contrary, is nothing but a tiresome legend, having the same character of sadness and dryness, which is the attribute of the legends of the Indians, in which we find only bigots, penitents and Brahmins, living in holy meditation. Their God Vishnu, who became man {p.240} (or flesh) in Chrisnu, has a great many traits in common with Christ. There are certain vagaries to be met with little Chrisnu, very similar to those, which are attributed to the childhood of Christ in the gospel: when grown he rises from the dead like Christ.

The Magi had also a legend of the Chief of their religion; prodigies had announced his birth. He was exposed to dangers from the time of his infancy, and was obliged to fly into Persia, like Christ into Egypt; like him he was persecuted by a king, his enemy, who wanted to get rid of him. An Angel transported him into Heaven, whence he returned with the book of his law. Like Christ he was tempted by the Devil, who made him magnificent promises, in order to induce him, to become his servant and to be dependent of him. He was calumniated and persecuted by the priests, as Christ was by the Pharisees. He opposed them with miracles, in order to confirm his divine mission and the dogmas, which his book contained. By this parallel we can easily understand, that the authors of the legend of Christ, who make the Magi come to his cradle, guided by the famous star, which people said was predicted by Zoroaster, the Chief of their religion,—would not have failed to introduce in this legend a great many traits, which belonged to the leader of the religion of the Persians, of which Christianism is merely a branch, and with which it has the greatest resemblance, as we shall have occasion to remark, when we shall speak of the Mithraic religion, or of the Sun Mithras, the great Divinity of the Persians.

The authors of that legend had neither knowledge nor genius enough to compose such poems as the cantos on Hercules, Theseus, Jason, Bacchus, &c. Besides the thread of the astronomical science had been lost, and they limited themselves to compose legends with the fragments of the ancient fictions, which were no longer understood. Let us add to all this, that the aim of the leaders of the Initiation into the mysteries {p.241} of Christ, was a purely moral aim, and that they endeavoured to represent, not so much the conquering hero of the Giants and of all kind of evils, with which Nature is afflicted, as the meek, the patient, the charitable man, who had come on Earth to teach by his example the virtues, the practice of which they wished to inculcate upon the Initiates into his mysteries, which were those of the eternal Light. They made him therefore act in this sense, an, preach and command the austere practices of the Essenians, which resembled much those of the Brahmins and the devotees of the Indies. He had his disciples, like the Sommona-Kodon of the Siamese, a God also born of a virgin by the action of the Sun; and the number of his Apostles described the great duodecimal division, which is found in all the religions, of which the Sun is the hero; only his legend was more marvellous than amusing, and is showing there a little the ear of the credulous and ignorant Jew. As the author of the sacred fable made him be born amongst the Hebrews, he had to subject him and his mother to the religious rites of that people. Like all Jewish children he had to be circumcised on the eighth day: his mother was obliged, like other Jewish women, to present herself at the Temple, in order to be there purified. One feels, that all this is a necessary sequence of the first idea, or of that, which caused him to be born to preach and to die, in order to resuscitate afterwards: because there cannot be a resurrection without a previous death. Since they had made of it, a man, they had to make him pass through all the stages of adolescence and of youth, and he seemed to advance rapidly in knowledge and understanding to such perfection, that at the age of twelve years he astonished all the Doctors. The morals, which they wished to inculcate, were put in lessons in his sermons, or in example in his actions. They imagined miracles with which to support it, and fanatics were employed, who alleged to have been witnesses: for, who is not capable of {p.242} making miracles anywhere, where willing minds are found ready to believe them? Did they not see them, or believe to have seen them at the tomb of the blessed Paris in so enlightened an age as ours, and in the midst of a population, which could furnish more than one critic, but infinitely more enthusiasts and rogues? All leaders of religion have the reputation of having made miracles: "Fo," amongst the Chinese made miracles and forty thousand disciples publish everywhere, that they did see them. Odin, amongst the Scandinavians has made them also; he resuscitated dead persons, he also descended into Hell, and he gave to new-born infants a species of baptism. Miracles are the great resort of all religions: nothing is so stoutly believed, as that which is incredible. Bishop Sinesius has said—and he knew something about it—that the people wanted miracles at any price, and that it was impossible to conduct it otherwise. The whole life of Christ was therefore composed in this sense. Those who have "fabricated" it, have added thereto fictitious events, not only at known places, as all the ancient poets have done in the fables of Hercules, Bacchus, Osiris, &c., but also at an epoch with well known names, such as the age of Augustus, of Tiberius, of Pontius Pilate, &c.; which does not prove the real existence of Christ, but only that the sacerdotal fiction is posterior to that epoch; and of this we have no doubt. There have been made even several of them, because they count about sixty Gospels or lives of Christ, and so many stories have been told about him, that immense volumes could scarcely contain then, according to the expression used by one of the authors of these legends. The genius of the mystagogues has launched forth into a vast career, but all have agreed on two fundamental points: on the incarnation, which we have explained, and on the death and the resurrection, which we are going to prove as having only reference to the Sun, and that it is merely the repetition of a tragic event, described in {p.243} all the mysteries, in all the songs, and in all the legends of the worshippers of the Sun, under a great many different names.

Let us well bear in mind here, what we have proved in another place, that Christ has all the characteristics of the God Sun in his birth, or in his incarnation in the womb of a virgin, and that this birth arrives just at the same moment, when the ancients celebrated that of the Sun or of Mithras, and that it happens beneath the ascendant of a constellation, which, in the sphere of the Magi, carries a babe called Jesus. The actual question now is, to show, that he has also the characteristics of the God Sun in his resurrection, either on account of the epoch, at which this event is presumed to have happened, or on account of the form under which Christ shows himself in his triumph.

In concluding our explanation of the pretended fall of man and of the fable, in which the Serpent introduces the Evil into the World, we observed, that this evil was of a nature; which could only be repaired by the Sun of spring, and that it could be effected by it only. The Redemption of Christ, if he is the God Sun, must necessarily take place at that epoch.

Now it is precisely at the vernal equinox, that, Christ triumphs, and that he redeems the misfortunes of mankind in the sacerdotal fable of the Christians, called the life of Christ. Just at that annual epoch those festivities take place, the object of which is the celebration of this great event, because the Easter of the Christians, like that of the Jews is necessarily fixed at the full moon of the vernal equinox, to-wit: at that moment of the year when the Sun conquers and overcomes that famous passage which separates the dominion of the God of Light, from that of the Prince of Darkness, and where in our climes that Luminary reappears, which gives light and life to all Nature. The Jews and the Christians call it the feast of the Passover, because at that time the God Sun or {p.244} the Lord of Nature passes towards, or approaches us, in order to shower over us his blessings, of which the Serpent of darkness and of autumn had deprived us during all winter. This is the handsome Apollo in the fullness of all vigour of youth, who triumphs over the Serpent Python. This is the feast of the Lord, because this title of respect was given to the Sun because Adonis and Adonai styled this Luminary, Lord of the World, in the oriental fable of Adonis, the God Sun, who, like Christ came out victorious from the tomb, after his death had been lamented. In the consecration of the seven days of the week to the seven planets, the day of the Sun is called the day of the Lord. It precedes Monday or the day of the Moon, and follows Saturday or the day of Saturn, two planets, which occupy the extremes of the musical scale, of which the Sun is the centre and forms the quart. Therefore the title of "Lord" is under all circumstances a very proper one for the Sun.

This feast of the Pass-over of the Lord was originally fixed on the 25th of March, to-wit: three months, day for day, after the feast of his birth, which is also that of the nativity of the Sun. It was then, that this Luminary, while recovering its creative power and all its fecundating activity, was presumed to renovate Nature, to re-establish a new order of things, to create so to say a new Universe on the wreck of the old World, and to make mankind enter through the mediation of the equinoctial Lamb, the realm of Light and blessedness, which its presence brought back.

All these mystical ideas are to be found compiled in this passage of "Cedrenus." "The first day of the first month," says this historian, "is the first of the month Nisan; it corresponds to the 25th of March of the Romans, and the 'Phamenot' of the Egyptians. On that day Gabriel saluted Mary, in order to make her conceive the 'Saviour.' I observe, that it is the same month Phamenot, that Osiris gave fecundity to the Moon, according to the Egyptian theology." "On {p.245} the very same day," adds Cedrenus, "our God, Saviour, after the termination of his career, arose from the dead; that is, what our forefathers called the Passover, or the passage of the Lord. It is on the same day, that our ancient theologians have fixed also his return, or his second advent, as the new Era had to count from that epoch, because on the same day the Universe had commenced." All this agrees very well with the last chapter of the Apocalypse, which makes the throne of the equinoctial Lamb the starting point of the new Era, which shall regulate the destinies of the World of Light, and of the friends of Ormuzd.

The same Cedrenus makes Christ die on the 23d of March and resuscitate on the 25th, from which, says he, originates the custom of the Church, to celebrate Easter on The 25th of March, to-wit: on the 8th day before the Calends of April, or three months after the eighth of the Calends of January, at which epoch happened the nativity of the Sun. This eighth of the Calends, whether in January or in April, was the same day, on which the ancient Romans had fixed the arrival of the Sun at the winter solstice and at the vernal equinox. If the eighth of the Calends of January was a holiday in the religion of the worshippers of the Sun, as we have shown above, the eighth of the Calends of April or the 25th of March was one equally so with them. The great mysteries were then celebrated, which symbolized the triumph of the Sun at that epoch every year over the long nights of winter.

In the sacred legends that Luminary was personified: they lamented its supposed death for several days, and they celebrated in songs its resurrection on the 25th of March, or on the eighth of the Calends of April. Of this we are informed by Macrobius, the same Macrobius, who has told us, that at the winter solstice, or on the eighth day before the Calends of January, this same God Sun was represented under the form of a new-born infant, and on that of spring under the emblem {p.246} of a strong vigorous young man. He adds, that these feasts of the Passion, or of the death and resurrection of the God Day, which had been fixed at the equinox of spring, were to be found in all sects of the religion of the Sun. With the Egyptians, it was the death and resurrection of Osiris, with the Phoenicians it was the death and resurrection of Adonis, and with the Phrygians it represented the tragical adventures of Atys, &c., therefore the God Sun experiences in all religions the same misfortunes as Christ, that like him he triumphs over death, and that this happens just at the same epochs of its annual revolution. It is on those, who persist, to make of Christ another being than the Sun, that the duty devolves, to give us their reasons for such a singular coincidence. As far as we are concerned, who do not believe in these sports of the hazard, we shall simply observe, that the Passion and the Resurrection of Christ, celebrated at Easter, partake of the mysteries of the ancient solar religion or of the worship of universal Nature.

It is chiefly in the religion of Mithras or the God Sun, worshipped under that name by the Magi, that we find mostly those features of analogy with the death and resurrection of Christ and with the mysteries of the Christians. Mithras, who was also born on the 25th December like Christ, died as he did; and he had his sepulchre, over which his disciples came to shed tears. During the night the priests carried his image to a tomb, expressly prepared for him; he was laid out on a litter, like the Phoenician Adonis. These funeral ceremonies, like those on good Friday, were accompanied with funeral dirges and the groans of his priests; after having spent some time with these expressions of feigned grief; after having lighted the sacred flambeau or their Paschal candle and anointed the image with Chrism or perfumes, one of them came forward and pronounced with the gravest mien these words: "Be of good cheer, sacred band of Initiates (initiés) {p.247} your God has risen from the dead; his pains and his sufferings shall be your salvation." Why, exclaims the Christian writer, from whom we have all these details—why do you exhort these unhappy people to rejoice? Why do you deceive them with false promises? The death of your God is known: but there is no proof of his new life. There is no oracle, which warrants his resurrection; he did not show himself to the people after his death, in order that they might believe in his Divinity. It is an idol, which you bury; it is an idol over which you shed tears; it is an idol, which you are drawing from the tomb; and after your sorrows, you are now rejoicing. It is yourself, who deliver your God, &c. I ask you, continued Firmicus, who has seen your God with ox-horns, whose death afflicts you so much? And I shall ask Firmicus and his credulous Christians: and you, who are so much afflicted about the death of the Lamb, slaughtered in order to wash out with his blood the sins of she World, who has seen your God in the forms of a Lamb, of which you celebrate the triumph and the resurrection?

Do you ignore, that two thousand years before the Christian era, to which epoch the religion of the Persians and the Mithraic worship, or the Bull of Mithras is traced,—the Sun made the transit of the equinox under the sign of the Bull, and that it is merely through the effect of the precession of the equinoxes, that this passage in our days is under the sign of the Lamb; that there is nothing changed but the celestial forms and the name? That the worship is absolutely the same? And it would really seem, in this instance, as if Firmicus, in his onset on the ancient religions, had set his heart on it, to collect all the traits of analogy, which their mysteries had with those of the Christians. He clings chiefly to the Mithraic Initiation, of which he draws a pretty uniform parallel with that of Christ, and to which it has so much resemblance, merely because it is one and the same sect. It is true, he ex- {p.248} plains all this conformity, which exists between these two religions, by asserting, as Tertullian and St. Justin did, that a long time before there were Christians in existence, the Devil had taken pleasure to have their future mysteries and ceremonies copied by his worshippers. This may be an excellent reason for certain Christians, such as there are plenty in our days, but an extremely paltry one for men of common sense. As far as we are concerned, we, who do not believe in the Devil, and who are not, like them, in his secrets, we shall simply observe, that the religion of Christ, founded like all the others on the worship of the Sun, has preserved the same dogmas, the same practices, the same mysteries or very nearly so; that everything has been in common; because the God was the same; that there were only the accessories, which could differ, but that the basis was absolutely the same. The oldest apologists of the Christian religion agree, that the Mithraic religion had its sacraments, its baptism, its penitence, its Eucharist and its consecration by, mystical words; that the catechumens of that religion had preparatory trials, more rigorous than those of the Christians; that the Initiates or the faithful marked their foreheads with a sacred sign; that they admitted also the dogma of the resurrection; that they were presented with the crown, which ornamented the forehead of the martyrs; that their sovereign Pontiff was not allowed to marry several times; that they had their virgins and their laws of continence; finally, that they had everything, which has since been practiced by the Christians. Of course, Tertullian calls again the Devil to his assistance, in order to explain away so complete a resemblance. But as there is not the slightest difficulty, without the intervention of the Devil, to perceive, that whenever two religions resemble each other so completely, the oldest must be the mother and the youngest the daughter, we shall conclude, that since the worship of Mithras is infinitely older than that of Christ. and its ceremonies a great deal anterior to those of the {p.249} Christians, that therefore the Christians are incontestably either sectarians or plagiarists of the religion of the Magi.

I shall add with the learned "Hyde," that concerning the Angels, the theory of the Persians was more complete, than that of the Jews and of the Christians; that they acknowledged the distinction of the Angels into Angels of Light and Angels of Darkness; that they knew the narratives of their battles, and the names of the Angels, which have been admitted into our religion; that they baptised their children and gave them a name; that they had the fiction of Paradise and of Hell, which is likewise found with the Greeks and the Romans, and with several other nations; that they possessed a hierarchical order, and the whole ecclesiastical constitution of the Christians, which, according to Hyde, dates back with them more than three thousand years. But I shall not say with him, that we should see in this resemblance the work of Providence, which has willed, that the Persians should do in anticipation, what the Christians should do at some future day. If Hyde, (who was born on an island where superstition is almost always to be found alongside of philosophy, forming with it a monstrous alliance)—was not deterred through fear of shocking the prejudices of his time and of his country, to disguise in this way the opinion, which such a striking resemblance must necessarily awaken in him,—then we must confess, that wisdom is not always common sense, and is by no means its equal. I shall therefore agree with Hyde, that the two religions are similar in almost all points; but I shall come to the conclusion, that they form only one, or at all events, that they are only two sects of the ancient religion of the Orientals, worshippers of the Sun, and that their institutions, as well, their principal dogmas had—at least as far as their basis is concerned, one common origin. It is still the Sun, which in the God of their religion, may he be called Christ or Mithras, Osiris or Bacchus, Adonis or Atys, &c. Let us now pass to {p.250} the forms, which characterize the God Sun of the Christians in his triumph.

These forms are very naturally taken from the celestial sign, thro' which the Star of Day passed at the time, when it restored to our hemisphere the long days and heat. At the epoch, when Christianism came to be known in the West, and more than fifteen centuries before, this sign was the Ram, which the Persians in their cosmogony call the Lamb, as we have shown before. This was the sign of the exaltation of the Sun in the system of the astrologers, and the ancient Sabismus had fixed there its grandest feast. It was therefore the Sun's return to the celestial Lamb, which annually regenerated Nature. This then is the form, which this majestic Luminary, this beneficent God, this saviour of mankind, took in its triumph. And this is,—to speak in mystical style, "the Lamb, which redeemeth the sins of the World."

The same as Ahriman, or the ruler of darkness. had assumed the forms of the constellation, which in autumn brought back the long nights and winter, so also had the God of Light, his conqueror, to take in spring the forms of the celestial sign, under which his triumph was accomplished. This is the wholly natural consequence, which follows from the principles, which we have adopted in the explanation of the fable about the introduction of the Evil by the Serpent. We know besides, that it was peculiar to the genius of the worshippers of the Sun, to paint that Luminary under the forms and with the attributes of the celestial signs, with which it was in conjunction each month: this was the origin of the various metamorphoses of Jupiter with the Greeks, and those of Vishnu with the East Indians. For instance, they painted a young man leading a ram, or who carried a ram on his shoulders, or who had his front armed with the horns of a ram. Jupiter Ammon was represented under this last form. Christ also, took the name and the forms of a lamb, and this animal was the sym- {p.251} bolical expression, under which he was designated. People did not say the Sun of the Lamb, but simply the Lamb, as the Sun of the Lion, or Hercules, was frequently called the Lion. These are merely the various expressions of the same idea, and a varied usage of the same celestial animal in the pictures made of the Sun of Spring.

This denomination of the Lamb, which was given in preference to Christ or the God of Light in his equinoctial triumph, is to be found every where in the sacred books of the Christians, but especially so in their book of Initiation, known by the name of the Apocalypse. The faithful or those, who had been initiated are there qualified as disciples of the Lamb. The slaughtered Lamb is there represented in the midst of four animals, which are also found in the constellations, and which are placed at the four cardinal points of the sphere. It is before the Lamb, that the Genii of the twenty-four hours, designated under the emblem of old men, prostrate themselves. It is the slaughtered Lamb, according to the phrase, which is worthy to receive all power, divinity, wisdom, strength, honour, glory and benediction; it is the Lamb, which opens the book of fate, designated under the emblem of a book, closed with seven seals.

All the nations of the Universe are placing themselves before the throne and before the Lamb. They are dressed in white; they have palms in their hands, and sing with a loud voice: Glory to our God, who is sitting on the throne! It will be remembered that the celestial Lamb or the Ra n is the sign of the exaltation of the God Sun, and this victorious luminary seems to be carried on it in its triumph. The Lamb is surrounded by the duodecimal court or retinue, of which it is the leader in the celestial signs. It appears to be standing on the mountain, and the twelve tribes surround it, and are appointed to follow it, wherever it goes.

{p.252} The conquerors of the Dragon are to be seen there, singing the canticle of the Lamb. It would be superfluous to multiply here the passages, in. which this mysterious name is repeated. Everywhere we see, that the God of Light under the name of the Lamb, was the great Divinity, which was the great object of devotion in the Initiations of the Christians. The mysteries of Christ are therefore merely the mysteries of the God Sun in its equinoctial triumph, when it assumes the forms of the first sign, or those of the celestial Lamb: consequently the figure of the Lamb was the emblem or the seal, with which in those times the Neophytes of this sect were marked. It was there "tessera," and the symbolical attribute, by which the brethren of this religious fraternity or freemasonry made themselves known to each other. The Christians of that time, made their children wear around their necks the symbolical image of the Lamb. Everybody knows the famous "Agnus Dei."

The oldest representation of the God of the Christians was a figure of a Lamb, to which sometimes a vase was added, into which his blood flowed, and at other times couched at the foot of a cross. This custom subsisted up to the year 680, and until the pontificate of Agathon, during the reign of Constantine Pogonat. By the sixth synod of Constantinople, (cannon 82) it was ordained, that instead of the ancient symbol, which had been the Lamb, the figure of a man fastened to a cross should be represented; all this was confirmed by Pope Adrian I. This symbol may still be seen on the tabernacle or on the little shrine, in which our priests shut up the Sun. of gold or of silver, consisting of the circular image of their God, as also in front of their altars. The Lamb is there frequently represented in a couching position, sometimes on a cross, and at other times on the book of Fate, closed with seven seals. This number seven is that of the seven spheres, of which the Sun is the Soul, and the movement or revolution of {p.253} which is counted from the point of Aries, or the equinoctial Lamb.

This is that Lamb, which the Christians say, had been immolated since the origin of the World. "Agnus occisus ab origine mundi." It furnishes matter of an antithesis to an author of the prose of Easter, "victimae paschali" &c., "Agnus redemit oeves," &c. All the hymns of that festivity, which correspond to the "hilaries" of the ancient worshippers of the Sun, festivals, which were celebrated then at the same epoch, give us a description of the victory of the Lamb over the Prince of darkness. The candle, known by the name of the Paschal candle, was lighted, in order to represent the triumph of Light. The priests are dressed in white, a colour peculiar to Ormuzd or to the God of Light. The new fire is consecrated, also the lustral or holy water; everything is renovated in the temples, as in Nature. The ancient Romans did the same thing in the month of March, and substituted new laurels in the houses of their "fiamines," (archpriests) and in the places dedicated to hold their meetings. Thus the Persians in their feasts of Neuruz, or of the entry of the Sun into the sign of the Lamb of spring, celebrate in songs the renovation of all things, and the new day, of the new month, of the new year, of the new time, which shall renew all, which is the offspring of time. They have also their feast of the cross a few days before; it is followed a few days after by that of victory.

It was at that epoch, that their ancient Perseus, a Genius placed at the equinoctial point, was presumed of having drawn from Heaven the eternal fire, and consecrated it in their Pyras, where it was kept up by the Magi; the same fire, which the Vestals preserved at Rome, and from which was drawn every year in spring, that which they burned in the temples. The same ceremony was practiced in Egypt, as may be seen in an ancient monument of the Egyptian religion. A {p.254} wood-pile is there remarked, being formed of three piles of wood of ten pieces each, a number equal to that of the "decans,"² and of the divisions of the signs from ten degrees to ten degrees. There are therefore thirty pieces of wood, as many degrees as are counted to the sign. Over each of these three piles is couched a Lamb or Ram, and above it there is an immense image of the Sun, the rays of which are prolonged down to the earth. The priests touch these rays wit the tip of the finger, and draw from it the sacred fire, which is to kindle the funeral pile of the Lamb, and to inflame the Universe. This picture makes us remember the equinoctial feast of spring, celebrated in Egypt under Aries or under the Lamb, commemorative of the fire of Heaven, typifying the conflagration of the World. In that feast everything was marked red or of the colour of fire, as in the Pass-over of the Jews or in their feast of the Lamb. This resurrection of the sacred eternal fire, which is boiling in the Sun, and which every year in spring restores Nature to life in our hemisphere, was the true and genuine resurrection of the Sun Christ. It is with a view of rendering practically this idea, that the bishop of Jerusalem shuts himself up every year in a little vault, called the sepulchre of Christ. He is provided with some packages of small candles; with a steel he strikes fire and lights them; at the same time a burst of light takes place, similar to our pyrotechnical fires at the Opera, in order to made the people believe, that the sacred fire had fallen from Heaven to the Earth. After that, the bishop comes out from the vault, exclaiming: The Heavenly fire has descended and the sacred candle has been lighted. The credulous people flock there in crowds, in order to buy these candles, because the people everywhere are the dupes of the priests.

The name of the Lamb was given to Christ, and he was in {p.255} ancient times represented under that emblem only, because Christ is the Sun, and because the triumph of the Sun happens every year under the celestial sign of the Lamb, or under the sign, which was at that time the first of the twelve, and in which the vernal equinox took place. The Trojans had the white Lamb consecrated for a victim to the Sun, and their country was famous on account of the mysteries of Atys, in which the equinoctial Lamb played a great figure.

Like the Christians, who suppose that their God Sun Christ had been fastened to a wooden cross, so have the Phrygians, being worshippers of the Sun under the name of Atys, represented him in his passion by a young man tied to a tree, which was cut down with great ceremony. At the foot of the tree, there was a Lamb or the equinoctial Ram of Spring.

These mysteries of Atys lasted three days. These days were days of mourning, followed immediately by the feast of the Hilaries, or days of rejoicing, on which, as we have observed elsewhere, the happy epoch was celebrated, when the Sun Atys reassumed its dominion over the long nights.

This festival was that of the 25th March, or of the eighth day before the Calends of April, in other words, it fell on the same day, when Easter and the triumph of Christ was originally solemnized, and when Hallelujah, a real glee of the Hilaries, and Haec dies &c. was sung. This is the day made by our Lord; let it be for us a day of rejoicing and cheerfulness. The famous prose: O filii et filiae, &c. was also sung. The only difference in these two festivals, was the name of the hero of the tragedy, who in both fables is found to be the same God. Hence it was in Phrygia, where the famous book of the Initiation into the mysteries of the Lamb, called the Apocalypse, had its origin. The Emperor Julian investigated the reasons, why the equinox of Spring was chosen for that solemnity, and he tells us, that it was on account of the Sun passing over the line, which separated it from our climes, and {p.256} because it is prolonging the duration of the days in our hemisphere, which happens, he adds, when the King Sun passes under the sign of the Ram or the Lamb. At his approach, we celebrate in the mysteries the presence of the God Saviour and Redeemer.

The reason why the Ram or the Lamb is playing now with the Christians so important a figure, is because it fills the part, which in ancient times was occupied by the Bull in the mysteries of Bacchus and Mithras. Osiris and Bacchus were both represented with the forms of the ancient equinoctial Bull, and died and resuscitated like Christ: the mysteries of their passion were represented in their sanctuaries, as were those of Atys and of Christ, with the Phrygians and with the Christians.

The fathers of the Church and the writers of the Christian sect speak frequently of these feasts, celebrated in honour of Osiris, who died and arose from the dead, and they draw a parallel with the adventures of their God. Athanasius, Augustine, Theophilus, Athenagoras, Minutius Felix, Lactantius, Firmicus, as also the ancient authors, who have spoken of Osiris or of the God Sun, worshipped under that name in Egypt, all agree in the description of the universal mourning of the Egyptians at that festival, when the commemoration of that death took place, the same as we do with the Sun Christ every good Friday. They describe the ceremonies, which were practised at his sepulchre, the tears, which were there shed during several days, and the festivities and rejoicings, which followed after that mourning, at the moment when his resurrection was announced. He had descended into the lower regions or Hell, and afterwards came out of it again, in order to make his conjunction with Horus, the God of Spring, and to triumph over the Prince of Darkness, or Typhon his enemy, who had put him to death. These mysteries, in which the spectacle of his passion was given, were called the {p.257} mysteries of the night. These ceremonies had the same object in view, as those of the worship of Atys, according to Macrobius, and had reference to the Sun, the conqueror of darkness, which was represented by the Serpent, of which Typhon took the forms in autumn, during the passage of that Luminary under the Scorpion.

The same may be said about Bacchus, who, as all the Ancients agree, was the same as the Egyptian Osiris and as the God Sun, the infantile image of which as exhibited for the adoration of the people during the winter solstice. Bacchus was put to death, descended into hell and resuscitated, and the mysteries of his passion were celebrated every year; those feasts were called: "Titanic" and feasts of the "perfect" night. It was supposed, that this body had been cut into pieces by the Giants, but that his mother Celes reunited his members, and that he reappeared young and strong. In order to represent his passion, a bull was killed, the flesh of which was eaten in a raw state, because Bacchus or the God Sun, painted with the forms of the Bull, had been torn to pieces by the Titans. This was in no way the representation of the slaughtered Lamb, it was that of the Ox torn into pieces, which was given in those mysteries. In Mingrelia it was a roasted lamb which the Prince tears into pieces with his own hands, and which he distributes among his courtiers at the feast of Easter.

Julius Firmicus, from whom we have the Cretan legend on the life and death of Bacchus, and who persists in making a man of him, the same as he did with Christ, acknowledges however, that the Heathens explained these fictions through Nature; and that they regarded these tales as so many solar fables. It is also true, that he objects to all these reasons, as there will be also many people, who will not admit our explanations, either through ignorance, or being inclined, to slander what they do not comprehend, as all those Fathers of {p.258} the Church used to do in their criticisms on Paganism. Firmicus goes even so-far as to defend the Sun, which seemed to him to have been outraged by these fictions, and he makes it hold an allocution, in which the God of Day complains of these attempts to dishonour him by these impertinent fables, by which he is sometimes drowned in the Nile under the names of Osiris and Horus, at other times mutilated under those of Atys and Adonis, or boiled in a caldron or roasted on a spit like Bacchus; he might also have added: by which at another time he is crucified under the name of Christ. At all events according to Firmicus, it would seem pretty evident that the tradition has been preserved with the Heathens, that all these tragical adventures were merely mystical fictions on the Sun. This is what we prove even now by our explanations of the fable of Christ, put to death and resuscitated at the vernal equinox.

They gave to Bacchus, the same as to Christ, the title of "Saviour," also to Jupiter or to the God with horns of a ram, who had his statue in the temple of the Virgin, Minerva Polias, at Athens.

Besides the idea of a God, who had come down on Earth in order to save mankind, is neither new nor peculiar to the Christians. The Ancients believed, that the supreme God had sent at various epochs his sons or his grandsons, in order to occupy themselves with the happiness of mankind. In this number, they placed Hercules and Bacchus, in other words, the God Sun, whom they praised in songs under these different denominations.

The same as Christ, so did Bacchus perform miracles: he has healed the sick and has predicted the future. Since his childhood he was threatened with the loss of his life, just like Christ, whom Herod wanted to put to death. The miracle of the three pitchers, which were filled again with wine in his temple, certainly equals that of the wedding at Cana. On {p.259} the 6th of January the commemorative festival of this hero of the Christian religion takes place: and at the "nones" of the same month a similar miracle was enacted at the island of Andros. Every year was to be seen there running a spring, the liquor of which tasted like wine. It would seem that the author of the legend of Christ had made a collection of various marvellous fictions, which were current among the worshippers of the Sun under different names. Bacchus was called, as Christ, God, Son of God, and his Spirit, which united with matter or with the body. Like Christ, Bacchus has established Initiations or Mysteries, in which the famous Serpent, which has since played such a conspicuous figure in the fable of the Lamb, was put in scene, the same as the apples of the Hesperides. The Initiations were an engagement to virtue. Its disciples expected also his second advent; they hoped that he would assume at some future day the government of the universe, and that he would restore to man his primary felicity. They were often persecuted, like the wore shippers of Christ, and as those of Serapis, or as the worshippers of the Sun, adored under those two names. To those who held meetings in order to celebrate these mysteries, many crimes were imputed, the same as they were to the first Christians, and in general to all, who celebrate secret and new mysteries. In certain legends they gave him Ceres, or the celestial Virgin, as mother. In more ancient legends, it was the daughter of Ceres, or Proserpine, who had conceived him in her amours with the supreme God, metamorphosed into a Serpent. This Serpent is the famous Serpent of Æsculapius, which healed all kinds of sickness, like that, which Moses brought up in the desert, and to which Christ compares himself. A Bacchus, with bull's horns was born thereof, because in reality, each time when the Sun made its conjunction with this Serpent of autumn, the Bull of Spring was then in the ascendant, giving thus its forms to Bacchus, and carrying his {p.260} nurses the Hyades. In the centuries which followed, he had to take the forms (of the Lamb, and it was then, when Ceres, or the celestial Virgin, became his other, in this sense, that she presided at his birth; because, as already stated, he was represented under the emblem of a new-born infant at the winter solstice, in order to represent a kind of infancy of the God Sun or Day, worshipped under the name of Bacchus in Greece, in Thracia, in Asia Minor, in India and Arabia; under that of Osiris in Egypt, of Mithras in Persia and of Adonis in Phoenicia; because Adonis is the same as Osiris and Bacchus, as acknowledged by ancient authors. But under this latter name, his legend differs from that of Osiris and Bacchus; it is less pompous. It is not the history of a conqueror nor of a king; it is simply that of a young man of matchless beauty, such as the Sun was portrayed at spring time. The Goddess, who presides over the generation of beings fell desperately in love with him. He is snatched away by death; an enormous wild boar, in the hunting season, wounds him at the very source of fecundity. The unfortunate lover of Venus dies; he descends to the lower regions or to Hell. They mourn for him on Earth. He visits the Goddess of the lower regions, the mother of Bacchus, and is kept there by her for six months. But at the end of six months he is again restored to life and to his love who enjoys his presence for other six months, only to lose him and find him afterwards again. The same mourning and the same rejoicings succeeded each other and were renewed each year. All the authors, who have mentioned this sacred fable, have agreed to see in Adonis the Sun; in his death, its departure from our climes; in his stay in the lower regions the six months which it spends in the lower hemisphere, abode of the long nights; in his return to light, its transit to the upper hemisphere, where it remains also six months, while the earth is smiling and adorns herself with all the graces which vegetation and the Goddess, presiding over the generation of all beings, can bestow.

{p.261} This is the explanation given to this fable by Macrobius, as he understood it, and it wants only to be completed by astronomical positions, which we have given in our larger work at the article of Adonis and Venus. Besides, this philosopher perceived very well, that this fiction, like that of Osiris and Atys, to which he assimilates it, has no other object but the Sun and its progressive course in the zodiac, compared with the state of the Earth in the two great epochs of the movement of this Luminary, be it with that, which brings it nearer to our climes, or with that, when it withdraws from it. This annual phenomenon was the subject of mournful ditties and of joyful songs in succession, and of religious ceremonies, in which the death of the God Sun, Adonis was deplored, and afterwards his return to life or his resurrection was hailed with joyful hymns. A magnificent couch was dressed up for him alongside the Goddess of generation and of spring, of the mother of Love and of the Graces. Baskets of flowers, of perfumes, of pastry, of fruits were prepared as offerings, in other words, the first