In the regions where astronomy first began as a science, Argo not only stood on an even keel but almost on the horizon when due south; and the features of resemblance to a ship, which I have endeavoured to portray in [fig. 39], must have seemed much more striking there (and then) than now.
The fore-part of the ship, or rather that region of the heavens where the fore-part should be, is occupied by great masses of the Milky Way in one of its brightest and most remarkable portions. I have sometimes fancied that in some of the old Zodiac temples of star-worshippers the constellation Argo was depicted as a mighty ship, gemmed with stars, and heavily laden in its fore-part with great masses of gilded cloud to represent the Milky Way, and that from such representations of the constellation came the tradition of the ship Argo and its cargo of golden fleece. Many parts of the story of Jason and his companions seem to relate to objects depicted in the old constellation-domes,—as those relating to the Dragon, to Hercules, Castor and Pollux, the Centaur, etc. There is also a curious reference, in the tradition, to the stern of the ship, which is much like what we can imagine as resulting from an attempt to explain the appearance of this part only, in the set of constellation figures. We read that the entrance to the Euxine Sea was fabled to be closed up by certain rocks called Symplegades (the Clashers), which floated on the water, and when anything attempted to pass through came together with such velocity that not even birds could escape. Phineas advised them to let a bird fly through, and if the bird passed safely, to venture the passage. It passed with only the loss of its tail; and the Argo, favoured by Juno, and impelled by the utmost efforts of its heroic crew, passed also, though so narrowly that the meeting rocks carried away part of her stern-works, which remained fixed there thenceforward.
For my own part, I think we may not only regard the story of the ship Argo as in reality a version, though much modified, of the account of Noah's deluge, but consider the series of constellations, Aquarius, Cetus, Eridanus, Argo, Corvus, Centaurus, Ara, and Sagittarius, as typifying the same narrative. It is somewhat curious that if we place these constellations in their original position,—that is, as they were before the changes which the earth's great gyration has introduced during the last four thousand years or so,—we find the following coincidences with the account of the deluge. First comes Aquarius (whose beginning would correspond with the sun's position on or about the seventeenth day of the second month of the old Pleiades year) pouring water. His range on the ecliptic (or the space he occupies in the annual range represented in the zodiac temple) is about forty days. Then came the watery constellations Eridanus, the river, and Cetus, the sea monster, having, with the ship Argo, a range of about 150 days of the annual circuit. About forty days later in the circuit we find Corvus, the raven, whose feet rest on Hydra, the great celestial sea-serpent, as though no dry land could be found by the bird. A dove also, if we accept the interpretation above given of the Argo narrative, may have been represented in this part of the star temple. Next we have the Centaur, originally we know represented as a man only, offering an animal as sacrifice on the altar Ara. There is a cloud of stars rising from the altar: we may recall Manilius's account of the constellation,—
"Ara, ferens thuris, stellis imitantibus, ignem."[16]
In this cloud is the Bow of Sagittarius, the bow being originally alone shown, as it is indeed the only figure which can be imagined among the stars of this region. So that these constellation figures seem to typify Noah offering sacrifice on the Altar, and the Bow of Promise set in the cloud above the altar. It is curious, too, that while the time of Noah's leaving the ark was a year and ten days from the beginning of the rains, the constellation Sagittarius overlaps the conjoined watery signs Capricornus and Aquarius (running south of them) by about so much as would correspond to ten days of the annual circuit of the heavens.
The objections to the view of matters above indicated are, first, that the constellations referred to seem to have been formed because of real resemblance between the star-groups and the figures associated with them; and, secondly, that the Zodiac temples were probably erected by star-worshippers, and would scarcely have been employed to typify such a narrative as that of the Deluge. The theory that the narrative itself was an attempt to interpret pictures represented on a Zodiac temple will, of course, be objectionable to many readers; though they may not be unwilling to believe that the fable of the Argonautic expedition had its origin in some such way.
It will have been noticed that in the figures which I have given of the Great Bear, Lion, and Ship, I have not altogether adhered to my idea of simply connecting the stars of a group by lines. To say the truth, although a rough notion of a bear, lion, or ship may thus be given, the figure so presented is not altogether satisfactory to the mind. In any case, as for instance even in the Scorpion (of all these figures the best marked), the line-figure is very imperfect. But in some cases it does suggest the idea of an animal or figure, or a part of either, much in the same way that the idea of a human figure can be suggested by a few lines forming a skeleton figure, such as our old friend Tommy Traddles used to draw. Now the Lion, Bear, and Ship are not well suited for this sort of delineation, as anyone will find who tries to suggest the idea of a bear, lion, or ship (of the old-fashioned heavily-sterned sort) by means of a few lines.
In order, however, to show that in some cases a skeleton figure can be formed by joining the stars of a constellation, and that the figure thus formed represents (of course in an utterly inartistic sort of way) the object associated with those stars, I will now take one or two instances in which such resemblance suggested itself to me without being specially sought for. I might add to the Crown, Dolphin, and Scorpion, the Chair of Cassiopeia, the figure of Orion, and the constellation of the Cup; I omit these, however, not because they are unfit for my purpose, but because they so obviously illustrate my argument. No one, with the least power of imagination, can fail to see how a chair, a belted giant, and a cup, are pictured, as it were, in these constellations. I will take others where the resemblance is less obvious.