chapter viii

, Part Ill, page 216, _ante_) the legends of the Central American race, the Quiches, preserved in the "Popul Vuh," their sacred book, in which they describe the Age of Darkness and cold. I quote again, from the same work, a graphic and wonderful picture of the return of the sun

"They determined to leave Tulan, and the greater part of them, under the guardianship and direction of Tohil, set out to see where they would take up their abode. They continued on their way amid the most extreme hardships for the want of food; sustaining themselves at one time upon the mere smell of their staves, and by imagining they were eating, when in verity and truth they ate nothing. Their heart, indeed, it is again and again said, was almost broken by affliction. Poor wanderers! they had a cruel way to go, many forests to pierce, many stern mountains to overpass, and a long passage to make through the sea, along _the shingle and pebbles and drifted sand_--the sea being, however, parted for their passage. At last they came to a mountain, that they named Hacavitz, after one of their gods, and here they rested--for here they were by some means given to understand that _they should see the sun_. Then, indeed, was filled with an exceeding joy the heart of Balam-Quitzé, of Balam-Agab of Mahucutah, and of Iqui-Balam. It seemed to them that even the face of the morning star caught a new and more resplendent brightness.

"They shook their incense-pans and danced for very gladness: sweet were their tears in dancing, very hot

[1. Poor, "Sanskrit and Kindred Literatures," p. 883.]

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their incense--their precious incense. _At last the sun commenced to advance_; the animals small and great were full of delight; they raised themselves to the surface of the water; they fluttered in the ravines; they gathered at the edge of the mountains, turning their beads together toward that part from which the sun came. And the lion and the tiger roared. And the first bird that sang was that called the Queletzu. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight; the eagle and the kite beat their wings, and every bird both great and small. _The men prostrated themselves on the ground_, for their hearts were full to the brim."[1]

How graphic is all this picture! How life-like! Here we have the starving and wandering nations, as described in the preceding chapter, moving in the continual twilight; at last the clouds grow brighter, the sun appears: all nature rejoices in the unwonted sight, and mankind fling themselves upon their faces like "the rude and savage man of Ind, kissing the base ground with obedient breast," at the first coming of the glorious day.

But the clouds still are mighty; rains and storms and fogs battle with the warmth and light. The "Popul Vuh" continues:

"And the sun and the moon and the stars were now all established"; that is, they now become visible, moving in their orbits. "Yet was not the sun then in the beginning the same as now; his _heat wanted force_, and he was _but as a reflection in a mirror_; verily, say the historians, not at all the same sun as that of to-day. Nevertheless, he _dried up and warmed the surface of the earth, and answered many good ends_."

Could all this have been invented? This people could not themselves have explained the meaning of their myth, and yet it dove-tails into every fact revealed by our latest science as to the Drift Age.

[1. Bancroft's "Native Races," vol. iii, p. 46.]

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And then, the "Popul Vuh" tells us, the sun petrified their gods: in other words, the worship of lions, tigers, and snakes, represented by stone idols, gave way before the worship of the great luminary whose steadily increasing beams were filling the world with joy and light.

And then the people sang a hymn, "the song called 'Kamucu,'" one of the oldest of human compositions, in memory of the millions who had perished in the mighty cataclysm:

"We _see;_" they sang, "alas, we ruined ourselves in Tulan; _there lost we many of our kith and kin;_ they still remain there! left behind! We, indeed, _have seen the sun_, but they--now that his golden light begins to appear, where are they?"

That is to say, we rejoice, but the mighty dead will never rejoice more.

And shortly after Balam-Quitzé, Balam-Agab, Mahucutah, and Iqui-Balam, the hero-leaders of the race, died and were buried.

This battle between the sun and the comet graduated, as I have shown, into a contest between light and darkness; and, by a natural transition, this became in time the unending struggle between the forces of good and the powers of evil--between God and Satan; and the imagery associated with it has,--strange to say,--continued down into our own literature.

That great scholar and mighty poet, John Milton, had the legends of the Greeks and Romans and the unwritten traditions of all peoples in his mind, when he described, in the sixth book of "Paradise Lost," the tremendous conflict between the angels of God and the followers of the Fallen One, the Apostate, the great serpent, the dragon, Lucifer, the bright-shining, the star of the morning, coming, like the comet, from the north.

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Milton did not intend such a comparison; but he could not tell the story without his over-full mind recurring to the imagery of the past. Hence we read the following description of the comet; of that--

"Thunder-cloud of nations, Wrecking earth and darkening heaven."

Milton tells us that when God's troops went forth to the battle--

"At last, Far in the horizon, _to the north_, appeared From skirt to skirt, a _fiery region stretched_, In battailous aspect, and nearer view Bristled with upright beams innumerable Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged and shields Various, with boastful arguments portrayed, The banded powers of Satan, hasting on With furious expedition. . . . High in the midst, exalted as a god, The apostate, in _his sun-bright chariot_, sat, Idol of majesty divine, inclosed With _flaming cherubim_ and golden shields."

The comet represents the uprising of a rebellious power against the supreme and orderly dominion of God. The angel Abdiel says to Satan:

"Fool! not to think how vain Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; Who out of smallest things could without end Have raised incessant armies to defeat Thy folly; or, with solitary hand, Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, Unaided, could have finished thee, and whelmed Thy legions under darkness."

The battle begins:

"Now storming fury rose, And clamor such as heard in heav'n till now Was never; arms on armor clashing brayed {p. 248} Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise Of conflict; overhead the dismal _hiss_ Of fiery darts in _flaming volleys flew_, And, flying, vaulted either host with fire. . . . Army 'gainst army, numberless to raise _Dreadful combustion_ warring and disturb Though not destroy, their happy native seat. . . . Sometimes on firm ground A standing fight, then _soaring on main wing_ Tormented all the air, _all air seemed then_ Conflicting fire."

Michael, the archangel, denounces Satan as an unknown being a stranger:

"Author of evil, _unknown till thy revolt_, _Unnamed_ in heaven . . . how hast thou disturbed Heav'n's blessed peace, and into nature brought Misery, uncreated till the crime Of thy rebellion! . . . But think not here To trouble holy rest; heav'n casts thee out From all her confines: heav'n, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war. Hence then, and evil go with thee along, Thy offspring, to the place of evil, bell, Thou and thy wicked crew! "

But the comet (Satan) replies that it desires liberty to go where it pleases; it refuses to submit its destructive and erratic course to the domination of the Supreme Good; it proposes--

"Here, however, to dwell free If not to reign."

The result, of the first day's struggle is a drawn battle.

The evil angels meet in a night conference, and prepare gunpowder and cannon, with which to overthrow God's armies!

"Hollow engines, long and round, Thick rammed, at th' other bore with touch of fire {p. 249} Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth From far, with thund'ring noise, among our foes Such implements of mischief, as shall dash To pieces, and overwhelm whatever stands Adverse."

Thus armed, the evil ones renew the fight. They fire their cannon:

"For sudden all at once their reeds Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, But soon obscured with clouds, all heav'n appeared, From these deep-throated engines belched, whose roar Emboweled with outrageous noise the air, And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul Their devilish glut, chained thunder-bolts and hail Of iron globes."

The angels of God were at first overwhelmed by this shower of missiles and cast down; but they soon rallied:

"From their foundations, loos'ning to and fro, They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and by their shaggy tops Uplifted bore them in their hands."

The rebels seized the hills also:

So hills amid the air encountered hills, Hurled to and fro with jaculation. dire.

. . . . And now all heaven Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread,"

had not the Almighty sent out his Son, the Messiah, to help his sorely struggling angels. The evil ones are overthrown, overwhelmed, driven to the edge of heaven:

"The monstrous sight Struck them with horror backward, but far worse Urged them behind; headlong themselves they threw Down from the verge of heav'n; eternal wrath Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. . . .{p. 250} Nine days they fell: _confounded Chaos roared_ And felt tenfold confusion in their fall Through his wide anarchy, so huge a rout Encumbered him with ruin."

Thus down into our own times and literature has penetrated a vivid picture of this world-old battle. We see, as in the legends, the temporary triumph of the dragon; we see the imperiled sun obscured; we see the flying rocks filling the appalled air and covering all things with ruin; we see the dragon at last slain, and falling clown to hell and chaos; while the sun returns, and God and order reign once more supreme.

And thus, again, Milton paints the chaos that precedes restoration:

On heav'nly ground they stood; and from the shores They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss, Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, Up from the bottom, turned by furious winds And surging waves, as mountains to assault Heav'n's height, and with the center mix the poles."

But order, peace, love, and goodness follow this dark, wild age of cold and wet and chaos:--the Night is slain, and the sun of God's mercy shines once more on its appointed track in the heavens.

But never again, they feel, shall the world go back to the completely glorious conditions of the Tertiary Age, the golden age of the Eden-land. The comet has "brought death into the world, and all our woe." Mankind has sustained its great, its irreparable "Fall."

This is the event that lies, with mighty meanings, at the base of all our theologies.

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