INTRODUCTION.—The fable of Orpheus, though trite and common, has never
been well interpreted, and seems to hold out a picture of universal
philosophy; for to this sense may be easily transferred what is said
of his being a wonderful and perfectly divine person, skilled in all
kinds of harmony, subduing and drawing all things after him by sweet
and gentle methods and modulations. For the labors of Orpheus exceed
the labors of Hercules, both in power and dignity, as the works of
knowledge exceed the works of strength.
FABLE.—Orpheus having his beloved wife snatched from him by sudden
death, resolved upon descending to the infernal regions, to try if, by
the power of his harp, he could reobtain her. And, in effect, he so
appeased and soothed the infernal powers by the melody and sweetness
of his harp and voice, that they indulged him the liberty of taking
her back, on condition that she should follow him behind, and he not
turn to look upon her till they came into open day; but he, through
the impatience of his care and affection, and thinking himself almost
past danger, at length looked behind him, whereby the condition was
violated, and she again precipitated to Pluto’s regions. From this
time Orpheus grew pensive and sad, a hater of the sex, and went into
solitude, where, by the same sweetness of his harp and voice, he first
drew the wild beasts of all sorts about him; so that, forgetting their
natures, they were neither actuated by revenge, cruelty, lust, hunger,
or the desire of prey, but stood gazing about him, in a tame and gentle
manner, listening attentively to his music. Nay, so great was the power
and efficacy of his harmony, that it even caused the trees and stones
to remove, and place themselves in a regular manner about him. When
he had for a time, and with great admiration, continued to do this,
at length the Thracian women, raised by the instigation of Bacchus,
first blew a deep and hoarse-sounding horn, in such an outrageous
manner, that it quite drowned the music of Orpheus. And thus the power
which, as the link of their society, held all things in order, being
dissolved, disturbance reigned anew; each creature returned to its own
nature, and pursued and preyed upon its fellow, as before. The rocks
and woods also started back to their former places; and even Orpheus
himself was at last torn to pieces by these female furies, and his
limbs scattered all over the desert. But, in sorrow and revenge for his
death, the River Helicon, sacred to the Muses, hid its waters under
ground, and rose again in other places.
EXPLANATION.—The fable receives this explanation. The music of Orpheus
is of two kinds; one that appeases the infernal powers, and the other
that draws together the wild beasts and trees. The former properly
relates to natural, and the latter to moral philosophy, or civil
society. The reinstatement and restoration of corruptible things is
the noblest work of natural philosophy; and, in a less degree, the
preservation of bodies in their own state, or a prevention of their
dissolution and corruption. And if this be possible, it can certainly
be effected no other way than by proper and exquisite attemperations of
nature; as it were by the harmony and fine touching of the harp. But
as this is a thing of exceeding great difficulty, the end is seldom
obtained; and that, probably, for no reason more than a curious and
unseasonable impatience and solicitude.
And, therefore, philosophy, being almost unequal to the task, has cause
to grow sad, and hence betakes itself to human affairs, insinuating
into men’s minds the love of virtue, equity, and peace, by means of
eloquence and persuasion; thus forming men into societies; bringing
them under laws and regulations; and making them forget their unbridled
passions and affections, so long as they hearken to precepts and submit
to discipline. And thus they soon after build themselves habitations,
form cities, cultivate lands, plant orchards, gardens, &c. So that they
may not improperly be said to remove and call the trees and stones
together.
And this regard to civil affairs is justly and regularly placed after
diligent trial made for restoring the mortal body; the attempt being
frustrated in the end—because the unavoidable necessity of death, thus
evidently laid before mankind, animates them to seek a kind of eternity
by works of perpetuity, character, and fame.
It is also prudently added, that Orpheus was afterwards averse to women
and wedlock, because the indulgence of the married state, and the
natural affections which men have for their children, often prevent
them from entering upon any grand, noble, or meritorious enterprise for
the public good; as thinking it sufficient to obtain immortality by
their descendants, without endeavoring at great actions.
And even the works of knowledge, though the most excellent among human
things, have their periods; for after kingdoms and commonwealths have
flourished for a time, disturbances, seditions, and wars, often arise,
in the din whereof, first the laws are silent, and not heard; and then
men return to their own depraved natures—whence cultivated lands and
cities soon become desolate and waste. And if this disorder continues,
learning and philosophy is infallibly torn to pieces; so that only
some scattered fragments thereof can afterwards be found up and down,
in a few places, like planks after a shipwreck. And barbarous times
succeeding, the River Helicon dips under-ground; that is, letters are
buried, till things having undergone their due course of changes,
learning rises again, and shows its head, though seldom in the same
place, but in some other nation.[629]