21 ([return])
[ The weapon is often mentioned in Mr. MacPherson’s paraphrases; but the Irish ballad, which gives a spirited account of the debate between the champion and the armourer, is nowhere introduced.]
From this it will appear that there were originals enough in the mythology of the Goths, as well as Celts, to furnish the modern attributes ascribed to Satan in later times, when the object of painter or poet was to display him in his true form and with all his terrors. Even the genius of Guido and of Tasso have been unable to surmount this prejudice, the more rooted, perhaps, that the wicked are described as goats in Scripture, and that the devil is called the old dragon. In Raffael’s famous painting of the archangel Michael binding Satan, the dignity, power, and angelic character expressed by the seraph form an extraordinary contrast to the poor conception of a being who ought not, even in that lowest degradation, to have seemed so unworthy an antagonist. Neither has Tasso been more happy, where he represents the divan of darkness in the enchanted forest as presided over by a monarch having a huge tail, hoofs, and all the usual accompaniments of popular diablerie. The genius of Milton alone could discard all these vulgar puerilities, and assign to the author of evil the terrible dignity of one who should seem not “less than archangel ruined.” This species of degradation is yet grosser when we take into consideration the changes which popular opinions have wrought respecting the taste, habits, powers, modes of tempting, and habits of tormenting, which are such as might rather be ascribed to some stupid superannuated and doting ogre of a fairy tale, than to the powerful-minded demon who fell through pride and rebellion, not through folly or incapacity.
Having, however, adopted our present ideas of the devil as they are expressed by his nearest acquaintances, the witches, from the accounts of satyrs, which seem to have been articles of faith both among the Celtic and Gothic tribes, we must next notice another fruitful fountain of demonological fancies. But as this source of the mythology of the Middle Ages must necessarily comprehend some account of the fairy folk, to whom much of it must be referred, it is necessary to make a pause before we enter upon the mystic and marvellous connexion supposed to exist between the impenitent kingdom of Satan and those merry dancers by moonlight.
LETTER IV.
The Fairy Superstition is derived from different sources—The
Classical Worship of the Silvans, or Rural Deities, proved by Roman
Altars discovered—The Gothic Duergar, or Dwarfs—Supposed to be
derived from the Northern Laps, or Fins—“The
Niebelungen-Lied”—King Laurin’s Adventure—Celtic Fairies of a
gayer character, yet their pleasures empty and illusory—Addicted to
carry off Human Beings, both Infants and Adults—Adventures of a
Butler in Ireland—The Elves supposed to pay a Tax to Hell—The
Irish, Welsh, Highlanders, and Manxmen held the same belief—It was
rather rendered more gloomy by the Northern Traditions—Merlin and
Arthur carried off by the Fairies—Also Thomas of Erceldoune—His
Amour with the Queen of Elfland—His re-appearance in latter
times—Another account from Reginald Scot—Conjectures on the
derivation of the word Fairy.
We may premise by observing, that the classics had not forgotten to enrol in their mythology a certain species of subordinate deities, resembling the modern elves in their habits. Good old Mr. Gibb, of the Advocates’ Library (whom all lawyers whose youth he assisted in their studies, by his knowledge of that noble collection, are bound to name with gratitude), used to point out, amongst the ancient altars under his charge, one which is consecrated, Diis campestribus, and usually added, with a wink, “The fairies, ye ken."[22] This relic of antiquity was discovered near Roxburgh Castle, and a vicinity more delightfully appropriate to the abode of the silvan deities can hardly be found.