A Guide to Mythology

by Helen A. Clarke

(Greek)

Once upon a time, when the giants had all been imprisoned by Zeus under Mount Ætna, Pluto, the ruler over the lower regions, or Hades, became very much alarmed lest the shock of their fall might expose his kingdom to the light of day. Under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot, drawn by black horses, and made a journey of inspection to satisfy himself of the extent of the damage. While he was thus engaged, he was espied by the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite (Venus), who was sitting on Mount Eryx, playing with her little boy Eros (Cupid).

He is one of the children in mythology who never grows up and never grows any wiser. He carries about with him always a bow and a quiver full of arrows, which he shoots right into the hearts of people and fills them with a love so overwhelming for some one they have seen that they will even carry that person off against his or her will, as this present story shows. As soon as Aphrodite saw Pluto, she exclaimed: “My son, take thy darts which subdue all, even Zeus himself, and send one into the breast of yonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of Tartarus. Dost thou not see that even in heaven some despise our power? Athēne and Artemis defy us; and there is that daughter of Demeter, who threatens to follow their example. Now, if thou regardest thine own interest or mine, join these two in one.” The boy selected his sharpest and truest arrow, and sped it right to the heart of Pluto.

Now in the vale of Enna is a lake embowered in woods, where Spring reigns perpetual. Here Persephone (Roman, Proserpina) was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and violets, when the god Pluto saw her. He immediately loved her, and, without waiting to find out whether she returned his love or not, he caught her up and carried her off. She screamed for help to her mother and her companions, but Pluto urged on his steeds and outdistanced pursuit. When he reached the river Cyane, it opposed his passage; whereupon he struck the bank with his trident, and the earth opened and gave him a passage to Tartarus.

Then Demeter, overwhelmed with grief, sought her daughter through the whole world. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus, when he led out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the search. At length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and remained nine days and nine nights, in the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. It was where the city of Eleusis now stands, near the home of an old man named Celeus. His little girl, pitying the old woman, said to her: “Mother”—and the name was sweet to the ears of Demeter—“why sittest thou here alone upon the rocks?” The old man begged her to come into his cottage. She declined. He urged her. “Go in peace,” she replied, “and be happy in thy daughter; I have lost mine.” But their compassion finally prevailed. Demeter rose from the stone and went with them. As they walked, Celeus said that his only son lay sick of a fever. The goddess stooped and gathered some poppies. Then, entering the cottage where all was in distress—for the boy, Triptolemus, seemed past recovery—she restored the child to life and health with a kiss. In grateful happiness the family spread the table, and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While they ate, Demeter mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When night came, she arose and, taking the sleeping boy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. His mother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang forward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. Then Demeter assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all around. While they were overcome with astonishment, she said: “Mother, thou hast been cruel in thy fondness; for I would have made thy son immortal. Nevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the use of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the soil.” So saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and, mounting her chariot, rode away.

Demeter continued her search for her daughter, until at last she returned to Sicily, whence she had at first set out, and stood by the banks of the river Cyane. The river nymph would have told the goddess all she had witnessed, but dared not for fear of Pluto; so she ventured merely to take up the girdle which Persephone had dropped in her flight, and float it to the feet of her mother. Demeter, seeing this, laid her curse upon the innocent earth in which her daughter had disappeared. Then succeeded drought and famine, flood and plague, until at last the fountain Arethusa made intercession for the land. For she had observed that it had opened all unwillingly to the might of Pluto, and she had also, in her flight from Alpheus through the lower regions of the earth, beheld the missing Persephone. She reported that the daughter of Demeter seemed sad, but no longer showed alarm in her countenance. Her look was such as became a queen—the queen of Erebus, the powerful bride of the monarch of the realm of the dead.

When Demeter heard this she stood a while like one stupefied; then she implored Zeus to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter. Zeus consented on condition that Persephone should not, during her stay in the lower world, have taken any food; otherwise, the Fates forbade her release. Accordingly, Hermes was sent, accompanied by Spring, to demand Persephone of Pluto. The wily monarch consented; but, alas! the maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her, and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. A compromise, however, was effected by which she was to pass half the time with her mother and the rest with the lord of Hades—so the flowers bloom upon the earth for half the year, and for the other half are buried underground, out of sight.

Demeter, pacified with this arrangement, restored the earth to her favor. She remembered, also, about Celeus and his family, and her promise to his infant son, Triptolemus. She taught the boy the use of the plough and how to sow the seed. She took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons, through all the countries of the earth; and under her guidance he imparted to mankind valuable grains, and the knowledge of agriculture. After his return, Triptolemus built a temple to Demeter in Eleusis, and established the worship of the goddess under the name of the Eleusinian mysteries, which, in the splendor and solemnity of their observance, surpassed all other religious celebrations among the Greeks.

Myths in which children figure are so numerous that it will be possible to give but a few of the most important ones. There are sun and moon children, and star children, and children of the wind; strong children and clever children and tricksy children, and even children who are worshipped as ancestors. A charming tale of the Zuni Indians tells how they came to worship children. Once some mothers were crossing a river with their children. By some magical means the children were changed into such ugly and mischievous shapes that many of the mothers, in their fright, let them fall into the water. Some of them held fast to their children, and these were restored to their natural shapes on the other side of the river, but those who had lost their children grieved deeply, and nothing could comfort them. Thereupon, two little twin brothers, who were called Sons of the Sun, went downward beneath the waters of a lake to the dwelling of the children, who as soon as they saw the twins inquired lovingly how it fared with their mothers. Their visitors told them of the grief and sorrow of their parents, whereupon the children said: “Tell our mothers we are not dead, but live and sing in this beautiful place, which is the home for them when they sleep. One day they will wake here and be happy always. And we are here to intercede with the Sun, our father, that he may give to our people rain and the fruits of the earth, and all that is good for them.” Ever since these children have been worshipped as ancestral gods.

We have already had a little story in which the stars appear as the children of the sun and moon. In another one, of the Indians of British Columbia, the dark spots which we see on the moon are supposed to be a child and her little basket. According to this legend, one night a child of the chief class awoke and cried for water. Its cries were very affecting—“Mother, give me a drink!”—but the mother heeded not. The Moon was touched, and came down, entered the house, and approached the child, saying: “Here is water from heaven; drink.” The child eagerly took hold of the jar and drank the water, and was then enticed to go away with its benefactor, the Moon. They took an underground passage until they got quite clear of the village, and then ascended to heaven. And still we see in the moon the figure of that very child, carrying the little round basket it had in its hand when it went to sleep.