<h1 id="id01086" style="margin-top: 5em">CHAPTER XXXII</h1>
<h5 id="id01087">THE INFERNAL REGIONS—THE SIBYL</h5>
<h5 id="id01088">THE INFERNAL REGIONS</h5>
<p id="id01089" style="margin-top: 2em">As at the commencement of our series we have given the pagan
account of the creation of the world, so as we approach its
conclusion we present a view of the regions of the dead, depicted
by one of their most enlightened poets, who drew his doctrines
from their most esteemed philosophers. The region where Virgil
locates the entrance to this abode is perhaps the most strikingly
adapted to excite ideas of the terrific and preternatural of any
on the face of the earth. It is the volcanic region near Vesuvius,
where the whole country is cleft with chasms, from which
sulphurous flames arise, while the ground is shaken with pent-up
vapors, and mysterious sounds issue from the bowels of the earth.
The lake Avernus is supposed to fill the crater of an extinct
volcano. It is circular, half a mile wide, and very deep,
surrounded by high banks, which in Virgil's time were covered with
a gloomy forest. Mephitic vapors rise from its waters, so that no
life is found on its banks, and no birds fly over it. Here,
according to the poet, was the cave which afforded access to the
infernal regions, and here Aeneas offered sacrifices to the
infernal deities, Proserpine, Hecate, and the Furies. Then a
roaring was heard in the earth, the woods on the hill-tops were
shaken, and the howling of dogs announced the approach of the
deities. "Now," said the Sibyl, "summon up your courage, for you
will need it." She descended into the cave, and Aeneas followed.
Before the threshold of hell they passed through a group of beings
who are enumerated as Griefs and avenging Cares, pale Diseases and
melancholy Age, Fear and Hunger that tempt to crime, Toil,
Poverty, and Death,—forms horrible to view. The Furies spread
their couches there, and Discord, whose hair was of vipers tied up
with a bloody fillet. Here also were the monsters, Briareus, with
his hundred arms, Hydras hissing, and Chimaeras breathing fire.
Aeneas shuddered at the sight, drew his sword and would have
struck, but the Sibyl restrained him. They then came to the black
river Cocytus, where they found the ferryman, Charon, old and
squalid, but strong and vigorous, who was receiving passengers of
all kinds into his boat, magnanimous heroes, boys and unmarried
girls, as numerous as the leaves that fall at autumn, or the
flocks that fly southward at the approach of winter. They stood
pressing for a passage and longing to touch the opposite shore.
But the stern ferryman took in only such as he chose, driving the
rest back. Aeneas, wondering at the sight, asked the Sibyl, "Why
this discrimination?" She answered, "Those who are taken on board
the bark are the souls of those who have received due burial
rites; the host of others who have remained unburied are not
permitted to pass the flood, but wander a hundred years, and flit
to and fro about the shore, till at last they are taken over."
Aeneas grieved at recollecting some of his own companions who had
perished in the storm. At that moment he beheld Palinurus, his
pilot, who fell overboard and was drowned. He addressed him and
asked him the cause of his misfortune. Palinurus replied that the
rudder was carried away, and he, clinging to it, was swept away
with it. He besought Aeneas most urgently to extend to him his
hand and take him in company to the opposite shore. But the Sibyl
rebuked him for the wish thus to transgress the laws of Pluto; but
consoled him by informing him that the people of the shore where
his body had been wafted by the waves should be stirred up by
prodigies to give it due burial, and that the promontory should
bear the name of Cape Palinurus, which it does to this day.
Leaving Palinurus consoled by these words, they approached the
boat. Charon, fixing his eyes sternly upon the advancing warrior,
demanded by what right he, living and armed, approached that
shore. To which the Sibyl replied that they would commit no
violence, that Aeneas's only object was to see his father, and
finally exhibited the golden branch, at sight of which Charon's
wrath relaxed, and he made haste to turn his bark to the shore,
and receive them on board. The boat, adapted only to the light
freight of bodiless spirits, groaned under the weight of the hero.
They were soon conveyed to the opposite shore. There they were
encountered by the three-headed dog, Cerberus, with his necks
bristling with snakes. He barked with all his three throats till
the Sibyl threw him a medicated cake which he eagerly devoured,
and then stretched himself out in his den and fell asleep. Aeneas
and the Sibyl sprang to land. The first sound that struck their
ears was the wailing of young children, who had died on the
threshold of life, and near to these were they who had perished
under false charges. Minos presides over them as judge, and
examines the deeds of each. The next class was of those who had
died by their own hand, hating life and seeking refuge in death. O
how willingly would they now endure poverty, labor, and any other
infliction, if they might but return to life! Next were situated
the regions of sadness, divided off into retired paths, leading
through groves of myrtle. Here roamed those who had fallen victims
to unrequited love, not freed from pain even by death itself.
Among these, Aeneas thought he descried the form of Dido, with a
wound still recent. In the dim light he was for a moment
uncertain, but approaching, perceived it was indeed herself. Tears
fell from his eyes, and he addressed her in the accents of love.
"Unhappy Dido! was then the rumor true that you had perished? and
was I, alas! the cause? I call the gods to witness that my
departure from you was reluctant, and in obedience to the commands
of Jove; nor could I believe that my absence would cost you so
dear. Stop, I beseech you, and refuse me not a last farewell." She
stood for a moment with averted countenance, and eyes fixed on the
ground, and then silently passed on, as insensible to his
pleadings as a rock. Aeneas followed for some distance; then, with
a heavy heart, rejoined his companion and resumed his route.</p>
<p id="id01090">They next entered the fields where roam the heroes who have fallen
in battle. Here they saw many shades of Grecian and Trojan
warriors. The Trojans thronged around him, and could not be
satisfied with the sight. They asked the cause of his coming, and
plied him with innumerable questions. But the Greeks, at the sight
of his armor glittering through the murky atmosphere, recognized
the hero, and filled with terror turned their backs and fled, as
they used to do on the plains of Troy.</p>
<p id="id01091">Aeneas would have lingered long with his Trojan friends, but the
Sibyl hurried him away. They next came to a place where the road
divided, the one leading to Elysium, the other to the regions of
the condemned. Aeneas beheld on one side the walls of a mighty
city, around which Phlegethon rolled its fiery waters. Before him
was the gate of adamant that neither gods nor men can break
through. An iron tower stood by the gate, on which Tisiphone, the
avenging Fury, kept guard. From the city were heard groans, and
the sound of the scourge, the creaking of iron, and the clanking
of chains. Aeneas, horror-struck, inquired of his guide what
crimes were those whose punishments produced the sounds he heard?
The Sibyl answered, "Here is the judgment hall of Rhadamanthus,
who brings to light crimes done in life, which the perpetrator
vainly thought impenetrably hid. Tisiphone applies her whip of
scorpions, and delivers the offender over to her sister Furies."
At this moment with horrid clang the brazen gates unfolded, and
Aeneas saw within a Hydra with fifty heads guarding the entrance.
The Sibyl told him that the gulf of Tartarus descended deep, so
that its recesses were as far beneath their feet as heaven was
high above their heads. In the bottom of this pit, the Titan race,
who warred against the gods, lie prostrate; Salmoneus, also, who
presumed to vie with Jupiter, and built a bridge of brass over
which he drove his chariot that the sound might resemble thunder,
launching flaming brands at his people in imitation of lightning,
till Jupiter struck him with a real thunderbolt, and taught him
the difference between mortal weapons and divine. Here, also, is
Tityus, the giant, whose form is so immense that as he lies he
stretches over nine acres, while a vulture preys upon his liver,
which as fast as it is devoured grows again, so that his
punishment will have no end.</p>
<p id="id01092">Aeneas saw groups seated at tables loaded with dainties, while
near by stood a Fury who snatched away the viands from their lips
as fast as they prepared to taste them. Others beheld suspended
over their heads huge rocks, threatening to fall, keeping them in
a state of constant alarm. These were they who had hated their
brothers, or struck their parents, or defrauded the friends who
trusted them, or who, having grown rich, kept their money to
themselves, and gave no share to others; the last being the most
numerous class. Here also were those who had violated the marriage
vow, or fought in a bad cause, or failed in fidelity to their
employers. Here was one who had sold his country for gold, another
who perverted the laws, making them say one thing to-day and
another to-morrow.</p>
<p id="id01093">Ixion was there, fastened to the circumference of a wheel
ceaselessly revolving; and Sisyphus, whose task was to roll a huge
stone up to a hill-top, but when the steep was well-nigh gained,
the rock, repulsed by some sudden force, rushed again headlong
down to the plain. Again he toiled at it, while the sweat bathed
all his weary limbs, but all to no effect. There was Tantalus, who
stood in a pool, his chin level with the water, yet he was parched
with thirst, and found nothing to assuage it; for when he bowed
his hoary head, eager to quaff, the water fled away, leaving the
ground at his feet all dry. Tall trees laden with fruit stooped
their heads to him, pears, pomegranates, apples, and luscious
figs; but when with a sudden grasp he tried to seize them winds
whirled them high above his reach.</p>
<p id="id01094">The Sibyl now warned Aeneas that it was time to turn from these
melancholy regions and seek the city of the blessed. They passed
through a middle tract of darkness, and came upon the Elysian
fields, the groves where the happy reside. They breathed a freer
air, and saw all objects clothed in a purple light. The region has
a sun and stars of its own. The inhabitants were enjoying
themselves in various ways, some in sports on the grassy turf, in
games of strength or skill. others dancing or singing. Orpheus
struck the chords of his lyre, and called forth ravishing sounds.
Here Aeneas saw the founders of the Trojan state, magnanimous
heroes who lived in happier times. He gazed with admiration on the
war chariots and glittering arms now reposing in disuse. Spears
stood fixed in the ground, and the horses, unharnessed, roamed
over the plain. The same pride in splendid armor and generous
steeds which the old heroes felt in life, accompanied them here.
He saw another group feasting and listening to the strains of
music. They were in a laurel grove, whence the great river Po has
its origin, and flows out among men. Here dwelt those who fell by
wounds received in their country's cause, holy priests also, and
poets who have uttered thoughts worthy of Apollo, and others who
have contributed to cheer and adorn life by their discoveries in
the useful arts, and have made their memory blessed by rendering
service to mankind. They wore snow-white fillets about their
brows. The Sibyl addressed a group of these, and inquired where
Anchises was to be found. They were directed where to seek him,
and soon found him in a verdant valley, where he was contemplating
the ranks of his posterity, their destinies and worthy deeds to be
achieved in coming times. When he recognized Aeneas approaching,
he stretched out both hands to him, while tears flowed freely.
"Have you come at last," said he, "long expected, and do I behold
you after such perils past? O my son, how have I trembled for you
as I have watched your career!" To which Aeneas replied, "O
father! your image was always before me to guide and guard me."
Then he endeavored to enfold his father in his embrace, but his
arms enclosed only an unsubstantial image.</p>
<p id="id01095">Aeneas perceived before him a spacious valley, with trees gently
waving to the wind, a tranquil landscape, through which the river
Lethe flowed. Along the banks of the stream wandered a countless
multitude, numerous as insects in the summer air. Aeneas, with
surprise, inquired who were these. Anchises answered, "They are
souls to which bodies are to be given in due time. Meanwhile they
dwell on Lethe's bank, and drink oblivion of their former lives."
"O father!" said Aeneas, "is it possible that any can be so in
love with life as to wish to leave these tranquil seats for the
upper world?" Anchises replied by explaining the plan of creation.
The Creator, he told him, originally made the material of which
souls are composed of the four elements, fire, air, earth, and
water, all which when united took the form of the most excellent
part, fire, and became FLAME. This material was scattered like
seed among the heavenly bodies, the sun, moon, and stars. Of this
seed the inferior gods created man and all other animals, mingling
it with various proportions of earth, by which its purity was
alloyed and reduced. Thus, the more earth predominates in the
composition the less pure is the individual; and we see men and
women with their full-grown bodies have not the purity of
childhood. So in proportion to the time which the union of body
and soul has lasted is the impurity contracted by the spiritual
part. This impurity must be purged away after death, which is done
by ventilating the souls in the current of winds, or merging them
in water, or burning out their impurities by fire. Some few, of
whom Anchises intimates that he is one, are admitted at once to
Elysium, there to remain. But the rest, after the impurities of
earth are purged away, are sent back to life endowed with new
bodies, having had the remembrance of their former lives
effectually washed away by the waters of Lethe. Some, however,
there still are, so thoroughly corrupted, that they are not fit to
be intrusted with human bodies, and these are made into brute
animals, lions, tigers, cats, dogs, monkeys, etc. This is what the
ancients called Metempsychosis, or the transmigration of souls; a
doctrine which is still held by the natives of India, who scruple
to destroy the life even of the most insignificant animal, not
knowing but it may be one of their relations in an altered form.</p>
<p id="id01096">Anchises, having explained so much, proceeded to point out to
Aeneas individuals of his race, who were hereafter to be born, and
to relate to him the exploits they should perform in the world.
After this he reverted to the present, and told his son of the
events that remained to him to be accomplished before the complete
establishment of himself and his followers in Italy. Wars were to
be waged, battles fought, a bride to be won, and in the result a
Trojan state founded, from which should rise the Roman power, to
be in time the sovereign of the world.</p>
<p id="id01097">Aeneas and the Sibyl then took leave of Anchises, and returned by
some short cut, which the poet does not explain, to the upper
world.</p>
<h5 id="id01098">ELYSIUM</h5>
<p id="id01099">Virgil, we have seen, places his Elysium under the earth, and
assigns it for a residence to the spirits of the blessed. But in
Homer Elysium forms no part of the realms of the dead. He places
it on the west of the earth, near Ocean, and describes it as a
happy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor rain, and
always fanned by the delightful breezes of Zephyrus. Hither
favored heroes pass without dying and live happy under the rule of
Rhadamanthus. The Elysium of Hesiod and Pindar is in the Isles of
the Blessed, or Fortunate Islands, in the Western Ocean. From
these sprang the legend of the happy island Atlantis. This
blissful region may have been wholly imaginary, but possibly may
have sprung from the reports of some storm-driven mariners who had
caught a glimpse of the coast of America.</p>
<p id="id01100">J. R. Lowell, in one of his shorter poems, claims for the present
age some of the privileges of that happy realm. Addressing the
Past, he says:</p>
<p id="id01101"> "Whatever of true life there was in thee,<br/>
Leaps in our age's veins.<br/></p>
<p id="id01102"> Here, 'mid the bleak waves of our strife and care,<br/>
Float the green 'Fortunate Isles,'<br/>
Where all thy hero-spirits dwell and share<br/>
Our martyrdoms and toils.<br/>
The present moves attended<br/>
With all of brave and excellent and fair<br/>
That made the old time splendid."<br/></p>
<p id="id01103">Milton also alludes to the same fable in "Paradise Lost," Book<br/>
III, 1. 568:<br/></p>
<p id="id01104"> "Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old,<br/>
Fortunate fields and groves and flowery vales,<br/>
Thrice happy isles."<br/></p>
<p id="id01105">And in Book II. he characterizes the rivers of Erebus according to
the meaning of their names in the Greek language:</p>
<p id="id01106"> "Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate,<br/>
Sad Acheron of sorrow black and deep;<br/>
Cocytus named of lamentation loud<br/>
Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon<br/>
Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.<br/>
Far off from these a slow and silent stream,<br/>
Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls<br/>
Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks<br/>
Forthwith his former state and being forgets,<br/>
Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain."<br/></p>
<h5 id="id01107">THE SIBYL</h5>
<p id="id01108">As Aeneas and the Sibyl pursued their way back to earth, he said
to her, "Whether thou be a goddess or a mortal beloved of the
gods, by me thou shalt always be held in reverence. When I reach
the upper air I will cause a temple to be built to thy honor, and
will myself bring offerings." "I am no goddess," said the Sibyl;
"I have no claim to sacrifice or offering. I am mortal; yet if I
could have accepted the love of Apollo I might have been immortal.
He promised me the fulfilment of my wish, if I would consent to be
his. I took a handful of sand, and holding it forth, said, 'Grant
me to see as many birthdays as there are sand grains in my hand.'
Unluckily I forgot to ask for enduring youth. This also he would
have granted, could I have accepted his love, but offended at my
refusal, he allowed me to grow old. My youth and youthful strength
fled long ago. I have lived seven hundred years, and to equal the
number of the sand grains I have still to see three hundred
springs and three hundred harvests. My body shrinks up as years
increase, and in time, I shall be lost to sight, but my voice will
remain, and future ages will respect my sayings."</p>
<p id="id01109">These concluding words of the Sibyl alluded to her prophetic
power. In her cave she was accustomed to inscribe on leaves
gathered from the trees the names and fates of individuals. The
leaves thus inscribed were arranged in order within the cave, and
might be consulted by her votaries. But if perchance at the
opening of the door the wind rushed in and dispersed the leaves
the Sibyl gave no aid to restoring them again, and the oracle was
irreparably lost.</p>
<p id="id01110">The following legend of the Sibyl is fixed at a later date. In the
reign of one of the Tarquins there appeared before the king a
woman who offered him nine books for sale. The king refused to
purchase them, whereupon the woman went away and burned three of
the books, and returning offered the remaining books for the same
price she had asked for the nine. The king again rejected them;
but when the woman, after burning three books more, returned and
asked for the three remaining the same price which she had before
asked for the nine, his curiosity was excited, and he purchased
the books. They were found to contain the destinies of the Roman
state. They were kept in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus,
preserved in a stone chest, and allowed to be inspected only by
especial officers appointed for that duty, who, on great
occasions, consulted them and interpreted their oracles to the
people.</p>
<p id="id01111">There were various Sibyls; but the Cumaean Sibyl, of whom Ovid and
Virgil write, is the most celebrated of them. Ovid's story of her
life protracted to one thousand years may be intended to represent
the various Sibyls as being only reappearances of one and the same
individual.</p>
<p id="id01112">Young, in the "Night Thoughts," alludes to the Sibyl. Speaking of<br/>
Worldly Wisdom, he says:<br/></p>
<p id="id01113"> "If future fate she plans 'tis all in leaves,<br/>
Like Sibyl, unsubstantial, fleeting bliss;<br/>
At the first blast it vanishes in air.<br/></p>
<p id="id01114"> As worldly schemes resemble Sibyl's leaves,<br/>
The good man's days to Sibyl's books compare,<br/>
The price still rising as in number less."<br/></p>
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