The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales | Page 8

Richard Garnett
Pluto of the dark. He called to mind and expounded
ancient oracles heretofore unintelligible: he had himself been told, and
had disbelieved, that the happiest day of his own life would be that on
which he should feel himself divested of immortality. Of the younger
gods and their doings he knew but little; he inquired with interest
whether Bacchus had returned in safety from his Indian expedition, and
whether Proserpine had a family of divine imps.
Much more, nevertheless, had Elenko to teach Prometheus than she
could learn from him. How trivial seemed the history of the gods to
what he now heard of the history of men! Were these indeed the beings
he had known "like ants in the sunless recesses of caves, dwelling
deep-burrowing in the earth, ignorant of the signs of the seasons," to
whom he had given fire and whom he had taught memory and number,
for whom he had "brought the horse under the chariot, and invented the
sea-beaten, flaxen-winged chariot of the sailor?" And now, how poorly
showed the gods beside this once wretched brood! What Deity could
die for Olympus, as Leonidas had for Greece? Which of them could,
like Iphigenia, dwell for years beside the melancholy sea, keeping a
true heart for an absent brother? Which of them could raise his fellows
nearer to the source of all Deity, as Socrates and Plato had raised men?
Who could portray himself as Phidias had portrayed Athene? Could the
Muses speak with their own voices as they had spoken by Sappho's? He
was especially pleased to see his own moral superiority to Zeus so
eloquently enforced by AEschylus, and delighted in criticising the
sentiments which the other poets had put into the mouths of the gods.
Homer, he thought, must have been in Olympus often, and
Aristophanes not seldom. When he read in the Cyclops of Euripides,

"Stranger, I laugh to scorn Zeus's thunderbolts," he grew for a moment
thoughtful. "Am I," he questioned, "ending where Polyphemus began?"
But when he read a little further on:
The wise man's only Jupiter is this, To eat and drink during his little
day, And give himself no care--
"No," he said, "the Zeus that nailed me to the rock is better than this
Zeus. But well for man to be rid of both, if he does not put another in
their place; or, in dropping his idolatry, has not flung away his religion.
Heaven has not departed with Zeus." And, taking his lyre, he sang:
What floods of lavish splendour The lofty sun doth pour! What else can
Heaven render? What room hath she for more?
Yet shall his course be shortly done, And after his declining The skies
that held a single Sun With thousands shall be shining.

V
It was not long ere the gods began to find their way to Prometheus's
earthly paradise, and who came once came again. The first was
Epimetheus, who had probably suffered least of all from the general
upset, having in truth little to lose since his ill-starred union with
Pandora. He had indeed reason for thankfulness in his practical divorce
from his spouse, who had settled in Caucasia, and gave Greek lessons
to the Princess Miriam. Would Prometheus lend him half a talent? a
quarter? a tenth? a hundredth? Thanks, thanks. Prometheus might rely
upon it that his residence should not be divulged on any account.
Notwithstanding which assurance, the cottage was visited next day by
eleven gods and demigods, mostly Titans. Elenko found it trying, and
was really alarmed when by and by the Furies, having made over their
functions to the Devil, strolled up to take the air, and dropped in for a
chat, bringing Cerberus. But they behaved exceedingly well, and took
back a message from Elenko to Eurydice. Ere long she was on most
intimate terms with all the dethroned divinities, celestial, infernal, and

marine.
Beautiful and blessed beyond most things is youthful enthusiasm,
looking up to something it feels or deems above itself. Beautiful, too,
as autumn sunshine is maturity looking down with gentleness on the
ideal it has surpassed, and reverencing it still for old ideas and
associations. The thought of beholding a Deity would once have
thrilled Elenko with rapture, if this had not been checked by awe at her
own presumption. The idea that a Deity, other than some disgraced
offender like Prometheus, could be the object of her compassion, would
never have entered her mind. And now she pitied the whole Olympian
cohort most sincerely, not so much for having fallen as for having
deserved to fall. She could not conceal from herself how grievously
they were one and all behind the age. It was impossible to make Zeus
comprehend how an idea could be a match for a
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