These annals I look upon in three different lights as invaluable documents—firstly, as they prove the existence of those edifices at the date above assigned; secondly, as they show that they were distinct things from the belfries—whether cloicteach or erdam—which shared their disaster; and, thirdly, because that, even admitting of O’Connor’s mistranslation, it gives us an insight into their character more fortuitous than he had anticipated. Celestial indexes![67] Could any one be so silly as for a moment to suppose that this was a mere allusion to the circumstance of their height? No; it was no such casual epithet, or witty effort of hyperbole; but it was, what Sallust has so truly said of the Syrtes, “nomen ex re inditum.”

The identity between this island and the “Insula Hyperboreorum” of Hecatæus being to be completely established in an ensuing chapter,—the bungling of natives and the claims of externs notwithstanding,—I shall not hesitate to assume as proved, that ours was the “island” described.

Allow me then to draw your attention to an extract from Diodorus’s report thereof:—“They affirm also,” says he, “that the moon is so seen from this island, that it appears not so distant from the earth, and seems to present on its disk certain projections like the mountains of our world. Likewise that the God Apollo in person visits this island once in nineteen years, in which the stars complete their revolutions, and return into their old positions; and hence this cycle of nineteen years is called, by the Greeks, the great year.”

Who is it that collates this description with the “celestial indexes”[68] above produced, that is not, at once, struck with the felicity of the coincidence? On earth, what could celestial indexes mean but such as were appropriated to the contemplation of the heavenly bodies?—just as the name of “Zoroaster”—which, in the Persian language, signifies “cœlorum observator,” that is, star-gazer, or observer of the heavens—was given to Zerdust, the great patriarch of the Magi, from his eminence and delight in astronomical pursuits.

Now, “the moon being so seen from this island that it appears not so distant from the earth,” is so obvious a reference to the study of astronomy that it would be almost an insult to go about to prove it; but when it is said that “it presents on its disk certain projections like the mountains of our world,” it not only puts that question beyond the possibility of dispute, but argues furthermore a proficiency in that department, which it is the fashion now-a-days to attribute only to modern discoveries.

But have we any evidence of having ever had amongst us, in those “olden times,” men who by their talents could support this character? Hear what Strabo says of Abaris, whom “Hecatæus and others mention” as having been sent by his fraternity from the “island of the Hyperboreans” to Delos, in Greece, in the capacity of a sacred ambassador, where he was equally admired for his knowledge, politeness, justice, and integrity. “He came,” says Strabo, “to Athens, not clad in skins like a Scythian, but with a bow in his hand, a quiver hanging on his shoulders, a plaid wrapt about his body, a gilded belt encircling his loins, and trousers reaching from the waist down to the soles of his feet. He was easy in his address, agreeable in his conversation, active in his despatch, and secret in his management of great affairs; quick in judging of present occurrences, and ready to take his part in any sudden emergency; provident withal in guarding against futurity; diligent in the quest of wisdom; fond of friendship; trusting very little to fortune, yet having the entire confidence of others, and trusted with everything for his prudence. He spake Greek with a fluency, that you would have thought he had been bred up in the Lyceum, and conversed all his life with the Academy of Athens.”[69]

This embassy is ascertained to have taken place B.C. 600; and from what shall be elsewhere said of the “island of the Hyperboreans”—coupled with the circumstance of the orator Himerius having called this individual a Scythian, which Strabo would seem to have insinuated also—we can be at no loss in tracing him to his proper home.

“Far westward lies an isle of ancient fame,
By nature blessed, and Scotia is her name;
An island rich—exhaustless in her store
Of veiny silver and of golden ore;
Her verdant fields with milk and honey flow,
Her woolly fleeces vie with virgin snow,
Her waving furrows float with verdant corn,
And Arms and Arts her envied sons adorn.”

Such is the description of Ireland given by Donatus, bishop of Etruria, in 802; and I have selected it among a thousand other authorities of similar import, to show that Scotia or Scythia was one, and the last, of the ancient names of this country;[70] while the name of “Hyperborean” was the distinctive character assigned thereto, not only as descriptive of its locality towards the north, but as worshipping the wind Boreas.

Did I not apprehend it might be considered irrelevant to the scope of this work, I could easily prove that the amity, said by Hecatæus to have been cemented on the occasion of the visit above alluded to, was not that of a mere return of courteous civilities for a casual intercourse, but one of a far more tender and familiar nature, viz. the recognition on both sides of their mutual descent from one common origin: the same people who had settled in this country, and imported the mysteries of their magic priesthood, being akin to the first settlers on the coasts of Greece, which they impregnated with similar initiation. I am anticipated, of course, to have meant the Pelasgi, who, under another name, belonged to the same hive as the Indo-Scythæ, or Chaldean Magi, or Tuath-de-danaan,—as the head tribe thereof were called,—who, having effected an establishment on this happy isle, aloof from the intrusion of external invasion or internal butcheries, were allowed to cultivate the study of their favourite rites, the fame and eminence of which had obtained for its theatre, of all nations, the designation of “sacred.” But I fear it would be encroaching upon the patience of my readers, and besides anticipating, in point of order, what may by and by follow.