CHAPTER VIII.

MERCURY.

[Sidenote: Birth of Mercury.]

As already repeatedly stated in the course of this work, Jupiter was

never a strictly faithful spouse, and, in spite of his wife's

remonstrances, could not refrain from indulging his caprice for every

pretty face he met along his way. It is thus, therefore, that he

yielded to the charms of Maia, goddess of the plains, and spent some

blissful hours in her society. This divine couple's happiness

culminated when they first beheld their little son, Mercury (Hermes,

Psychopompus, Oneicopompus), who was born in a grotto on Mount

Cyllene, in Arcadia,--

"Mercury, whom Maia bore,

Sweet Maia, on Cyllene's hoary top."

Virgil (Cowper's tr.).

This infant god was quite unlike mortal children, as will readily be

perceived by the numerous pranks he played immediately after his

birth. First he sprang from his mother's knee, grasped a tortoise

shell lying on the ground, bored holes in its sides, stretched strings

across its concavity, and, sweeping his hands over them, produced

strains of sweetest music, thus inventing the first lyre.

"So there it lay, through wet and dry,

As empty as the last new sonnet,

Till by and by came Mercury,

And, having mused upon it,

'Why here,' cried he, 'the thing of things

In shape, material, and dimension!

Give it but strings, and, lo, it sings,

A wonderful invention.'"

Lowell.

[Sidenote: Mercury's theft.]

Being very hungry toward evening, young Mercury escaped from his

sleeping mother, and sallied out in search of food. He had not gone

very far, before he came to a wide meadow, where Apollo's herds were

at pasture. The oxen were fat and sleek; and the mischievous little

god, after satisfying himself that they were young, and therefore

promised to be tender and juicy, drove fifty of them off to a secluded

spot, taking good care to envelop their feet in leafy branches, so

they would leave no traces. Then, his hiding place being reached in

safety, Mercury coolly killed two of the oxen, which he proceeded to

eat.

Apollo soon missed his cattle, and began to search for some clew to

their hiding place or to the thief. He could, however, discover

nothing but some broken twigs and scattered leaves. Suddenly he

remembered that the babe whose birth had been announced early that

morning in high Olympus had been appointed god of thieves. He

therefore lost no more time in useless search and conjecture, but

strode off to Mount Cyllene, where he found Mercury peacefully

sleeping in his cradle. With a rude shake, the sun god roused him from

his slumbers, and bade him restore the stolen cattle. Mercury

pretended innocence, until Apollo, exasperated, dragged him off to

Olympus, where he was convicted of the theft, and condemned to restore

the stolen property. Mercury yielded to the decree, produced the

remaining oxen, and, in exchange for the two missing, gave Apollo the

lyre he had just fashioned.

[Illustration: FLYING MERCURY.--Bologna. (National Museum, Florence.)]

This, like most other myths, admits of a natural explanation. Apollo

(the Sun) was supposed by the ancients to possess great herds of

cattle and sheep,--the clouds; and Mercury, the personification of the

wind, born in the night, after a few hours' existence waxes

sufficiently strong to drive away the clouds and conceal them, leaving

no trace of his passage except a few broken branches and scattered

leaves.

[Sidenote: Mercury's wand, cap, and shoes.]

The gift of the lyre pleased Apollo so well, that he in return wished

to make a present to Mercury, and gave him a magic wand, called

Caduceus, which had the power of reconciling all conflicting elements.

Mercury, anxious to test it, thrust it between two quarreling snakes,

who immediately wound themselves in amity around it. This so pleased

him, that he bade them remain there forever, and used the wand on all

occasions.

"A snake-encircl'd wand;

By classic authors term'd Caduceus

And highly fam'd for several uses."

Goldsmith.

Mercury was in due time appointed messenger of the gods, who, to make

him fleet of foot, presented him with winged sandals, the Talaria,

which endowed him with marvelous rapidity of motion. As these sandals

did not seem quite sufficient, however, the gods added the winged cap,

Petasus, to the winged shoes.

"Foot-feather'd Mercury appear'd sublime

Beyond the tall tree tops; and in less time

Than shoots the slanted hail-storm, down he dropt

Towards the ground; but rested not, nor stopt

One moment from his home; only the sward

He with his wand light touch'd, and heavenward

Swifter than sight was gone."

Keats.

Mercury was not only the messenger of the gods, but was also appointed

god of eloquence, commerce, rain, wind, and the special patron of

travelers, shepherds, cheats, and thieves.

[Sidenote: Story of Io.]

Jupiter often intrusted to Mercury messages of a delicate nature, and

always found him an invaluable ally; but the faithful messenger was

never so much needed or so deeply appreciated as during Jupiter's

courtship of Io, the peerless daughter of the river god Inachus.

To avoid Juno's recriminations, Jupiter had carried on this affair

with even more than his usual secrecy, visiting his beloved only when

quite certain that his wife was asleep, and taking the further

precaution of spreading a cloud over the spot where he generally met

her, to shield her from all chance of being seen from Olympus.

One fine afternoon, all conditions being favorable, Jupiter hastened

down to earth to see Io, and began to stroll with her up and down the

river edge. They heeded not the noonday heat, for the cloud over their

heads screened them from the sun's too ardent rays.

From some cause Juno's slumbers were less protracted than usual, and

she soon arose from her couch to look about her realm, the atmosphere,

and convince herself that all was well. Her attention was soon

attracted by an opaque, immovable cloud near the earth,--a cloud which

had no business there, for had she not bidden them all lie still on

the blue until she awoke? Her suspicions being aroused by the presence

of this cloud, she sought her husband in Olympus, and, not finding

him, flew down to earth, brushing the cloud aside in her haste.

Jupiter, thus warned of her coming, had but time to change the maiden

beside him into a heifer, ere his wife alighted and inquired what he

was doing there. Carelessly the god pointed to the heifer, and

declared he had been whiling away the time by creating it; but the

explanation failed to satisfy Juno, who, seeing no other living

creature near, suspected that her spouse had been engaged in a

clandestine flirtation, and had screened its fair object from her

wrath only by a sudden transformation.

Dissimulating these suspicions with care, Juno begged her husband to

give her his new creation, which request he could not refuse, but

granted most reluctantly, thus adding further confirmation to her

jealous fears. The Queen of Heaven then departed, taking Io with her,

and placed her under the surveillance of Argus, one of her servants,

who possessed myriad eyes, but one half of which he closed at a time.

"The eyes of Argus, sentinel of Heaven:

Those thousand eyes that watch alternate kept,

Nor all o'er all his body waked or slept."

Statius (Elton's tr.).

[Sidenote: Argus' watch.]

She bade him watch the heifer closely, and report anything unusual in

its actions. One day, therefore, as he was watching his charge pasture

by the river, Argus heard her relate to her father, Inachus, the story

of her transformation, and immediately imparted his discovery to Juno,

who, advising still closer watchfulness, sent him back to his post.

Jupiter, in the mean while, was in despair; for days had passed

without his being able to exchange a word with Io, or deliver her from

her imprisonment. Finally he called Mercury to his aid, and bade him

devise some plan to rescue her. Armed with a handful of poppies,

Mercury approached Argus, and offered to while away the time by

telling him tales.

As Mercury was the prince of story-tellers, this offer was not to be

despised, and Argus joyfully accepted; but instead of exerting himself

to be entertaining, Mercury droned out such lengthy, uninteresting

stories, that Argus soon closed half his eyes in profound sleep. Still

talking in the same monotonous way, Mercury softly shook the poppies

over the giant's head, until one by one the remaining eyelids closed,

and Argus was wrapped in complete slumber.

Then Mercury seized the giant's sword, and with one well-directed blow

severed his head from the huge trunk. Only one half of the task was

successfully accomplished; and while Mercury was driving the heifer

away, Juno discovered his attempt, and promptly sent an enormous

gadfly to torment the poor beast, who, goaded to madness by its cruel

stings, fled wildly from one country to another, forded streams, and

finally plunged into the sea, since called Ionian. After swimming

across it, she took refuge in Egypt, where Jupiter restored her to all

her girlish loveliness, and where her son Epaphus was born, to be the

first king and the founder of Memphis.

"In coming time that hollow of the sea

Shall bear the name Ionian, and present

A monument of Io's passage through,

Unto all mortals."

E. B. Browning.

Juno mourned the loss of her faithful Argus most bitterly, and,

gathering up his myriad eyes, scattered them over the tail of her

favorite bird, the peacock, to have some memento of her faithful

servant ever near her.

"From Argus slain a painted peacock grew,

Fluttering his feathers stain'd with various hue."

Moschus.

This story also is an allegory. Io personifies the moon, restlessly

wandering from place to place; Argus, the heavens, whose starry eyes

keep ceaseless watch over the moon's every movement; Mercury is the

rain, whose advent blots out the stars one by one, thus killing Argus,

who else was never known to close all his eyes at once.

[Sidenote: Mercury's offices and worship.]

To Mercury was intrusted the charge of conducting the souls of the

departed to Hades, and when occupied in this way he bore the name of

Psychopompus, while, when addressed as conductor of Dreams, he was

Oneicopompus.

"Gently as a kiss came Death to sever

From spirit flesh, and to the realm of gloom

The pallid shades with fearless brow descended

To Hades, by the winged god attended."

Boyesen.

He was one of the twelve principal gods of Olympus, and was widely

worshiped. Temples, altars, and shrines were dedicated to his service

throughout the ancient countries. His statues were considered sacred

boundary marks, and their removal punished by death. Solemn annual

festivals were held in Rome in Mercury's honor in the month of May,

and from him received their name of Mercuralia.

Myths of Greece and Rome Narrated with Special Reference to Literature and Art · 第 8 / 31 章