similar to that of which the Rig-veda is the most ancient monument.
It cannot, of course, be expected that I should here enumerate all
these names. I will, however, select out of their multitude, some of
a nature suited to cause these analogies to be understood.
The God of Heaven (or of the sky) is called by the Greeks Zeus
Pater ; and let us here notice that the pronunciation of Z resembles
very much that of D, inasmuch as the word Zeus becomes in the genitive
Dios. The Latins termed the saifie god Dies-piter or Jupiter.
How, in the Veda, the God of Heaven-is called Dyaushpitar. The
Greeks designated the sky as Ouranos, and invoked it as a supreme
god. And, it must again be noted that, in their tongue, the V does
not exist, but is always rendered by OH. In the Veda, on the other
hand, it is termed Varouna. The Barth always receives — among
the Greeks, the Latins, and the Germans,—the epithet of “ mother
and likewise under this surname is it invoked in the Vedic hymns.
But these are, after all, only similitudes of names: some complete
myths connect amongsc each other all the Germanic populations.
These myths, too, have become invested, amid each one of the latter,
with a physiognomy slightly distinct; because every thing in
mythos is shifting and changeable: and, even among the same people,
myths modify and transform themselves according to- times and
according to places; but, a basis,—a substratum, of ideas in common
remains; and it is this residue which permits us to grasp the original
relationship of beliefs. Well,—wre might cite a host of these fables
that have run over the whole of Europe, but ever, preserving the
same traits. I -will give qne of them, just by way of specimen: —
Grecian antiquity has recorded various legends concerning a marvellous
artisan yclept AaiSaXog (the “ inventive”) who occasionally
becomes confounded with the God of fire, personification of lightning
(and the thunderbolt), Mephaestos; whom we call, after the Latins,
Vulcan. The Aryas (proper name of those Arians who composed the
Sanscrit Vedas) also adored, as a blacksmith-god, the personified
thunderbolt. They termed him Twachtrei; and the physiognomy of
this personage possesses the greatest analogies with that of Vulcan.
Twachtrei is called the “ author of all worksbecause fire is the
grand agent of human industry; and he is Ignipotens, as says Virgil
speaking of Vulcan. And, in the same manner that this divinity had
forged the thunderbolt of Jupiter, and executed the cup out of which
immortals quaffed ambrosia, Twachter’ had forged the thunderbolt
of Indra, god of the sky (or Heaven) in the Vedic pantheon; and
was the maker of that divine cup whence was poured out the soma,
—which was, at one and the same time, ambrosia and the libation.
Twachter’ has for assistants, or for rivals, the Ribhavas,15— other
divine artists, who play a considerable part in the songs of the Veda
and in Ilindostanic history; wherein one recognizes numberless
traits common to the Hellenic legend of the Cyclopians, the Cabiri,
the Telchines, and in particular to that of Daedalus. How, these same
legends are picked up here and there from different points of Europe,
in localities the most distant, and between which no interchange of
ideas could anciently have occurred. The celebrated blacksmith
“ Wieland,” or Velant, so famous in the traditions of northern Germany,—
who, in Scandinavia, is termed Volund—is a compound of
Vulcan and Daedalus, no less than another heir to the Vedic traditions
about Twachter’.
The adventure so classically-renowned of the Cretan hero, and of
his son Icarus, reproduces itself, with but trifling variations, in that
of Volund. He is also shut up within the labyrinth; but Scandinavian
tradition no longer places in Crete (Candia) this marvellous
edifice. It is on an island named “ Savarstadr.” The Greek fable
gives to Daedalus wings, in order that he may escape from his
prison. In the story of the people of the north, it is a shirt of
feathers with which he clothes himself. His brother Eigil, here
substituted for Icarus, wishes to try the power of this feathery dress;
and perishes like the son of Daedalus—victim of his rashness.
A scholiast teaches us, that the celebrated Greek voyager Pytheas
had found at the islands of AEolus, now the Lipari-isles, the singular
custom of exposing, near the volcano (Stromboli) in which it was
believed that Vulcan made his residence, the iron that one desired
to see fashioned into some weapon or instrument. The rough metal
was left during the night thus disposed, and upon returning on the
morrow, the sword, or other implement, was found newly manufactured.
An usage of this kind, founded upon a similar credence, is
spread through a number of Germanic countries. It is no longer
Vulcan, but Wieland, a cripple like him moreover, who becomes the
mysterious blacksmith. In Berkshire (England) they used formerly
to show, near a place called White-Horse hill, a stone, whereupon,
according to the popular notion, it was enough to deposit a horseshoe
with a piece of silver, and to tie near it the animal to be shod ;
and, on coming back, the operation was found done. The marvellous
farrier Wayland-Smith, as he was called, had paid himself with
the silver money; and the shodden brute was ready to be led away.
In many cantons of Germany, analogous stories used to be told: only,
15 On this point consult the learned work of M. F. Nev e , entitled Essai sur le myths det
Ribhavas, Paris, 1847.