<[52]bearing and
majestic appearance, tall, matronly, and dignified, with beautiful golden
hair, which falls in rippling curls over her stately shoulders, the
yellow locks being emblematical of the ripened ears of corn. Sometimes
she appears seated in a chariot drawn by winged dragons, at others she
stands erect, her figure drawn up to its full height, and always fully
draped; she bears a sheaf of wheat-ears in one hand and a lighted torch
in the other. The wheat-ears are not unfrequently replaced by a bunch of
poppies, with which her brows are also garlanded, though sometimes she
merely wears a simple riband in her hair.

Demeter, as the wife of Zeus, became the mother of Persephone
(Proserpine), to whom she was so tenderly attached that her whole life
was bound up in her, and she knew no happiness except in her society. One
day, however, whilst Persephone was gathering flowers in a meadow,
attended by the ocean-nymphs, she saw to her surprise a beautiful
narcissus, from the stem of which sprang forth a hundred blossoms.
Drawing near to examine this lovely flower, whose exquisite scent
perfumed the air, she stooped down to gather it, suspecting no evil, when
a yawning abyss opened at her feet, and Aïdes, the grim ruler of the
lower world, appeared from its depths, seated in his dazzling chariot
drawn by four black horses. Regardless of her tears and the shrieks of
her female attendants, Aïdes seized the terrified maiden, and bore her
away to the gloomy realms over which he reigned in melancholy grandeur.
Helios, the all-seeing sun-god, and Hecate, a mysterious and very ancient
divinity, alone heard her cries for aid, but were powerless to help her.
When Demeter became conscious of her loss her grief was intense, and she
refused to be comforted. She knew not where to seek for her child, but
feeling that repose and inaction were impossible, she set out on her
weary search, taking with her two torches which she lighted in the flames
of Mount Etna to guide her on her way. For nine long days and nights she
wandered on, inquiring of every one she met for tidings of her child.
[53]But
all was in vain! Neither gods nor men could give her the comfort which
her soul so hungered for. At last, on the tenth day, the disconsolate
mother met Hecate, who informed her that she had heard her daughter’s
cries, but knew not who it was that had borne her away. By Hecate’s
advice Demeter consulted Helios, whose all-seeing eye nothing escapes,
and from him she learnt that it was Zeus himself who had permitted Aïdes
to seize Persephone, and transport her to the lower world in order that
she might become his wife. Indignant with Zeus for having given his
sanction to the abduction of his daughter, and filled with the bitterest
sorrow, she abandoned her home in Olympus, and refused all heavenly food.
Disguising herself as an old woman, she descended upon earth, and
commenced a weary pilgrimage among mankind. One evening she arrived at a
place called Eleusis, in Attica, and sat down to rest herself near a well
beneath the shade of an olive-tree. The youthful daughters of Celeus, the
king of the country, came with their pails of brass to draw water from
this well, and seeing that the tired wayfarer appeared faint and
dispirited, they spoke kindly to her, asking who she was, and whence she
came. Demeter replied that she had made her escape from pirates, who had
captured her, and added that she would feel grateful for a home with any
worthy family, whom she would be willing to serve in a menial capacity.
The princesses, on hearing this, begged Demeter to have a moment’s
patience while they returned home and consulted their mother, Metaneira.
They soon brought the joyful intelligence that she was desirous of
securing her services as nurse to her infant son Demophoon, or
Triptolemus. When Demeter arrived at the house a radiant light suddenly
illumined her, which circumstance so overawed Metaneira that she treated
the unknown stranger with the greatest respect, and hospitably offered
her food and drink. But Demeter, still grief-worn and dejected, refused
her friendly offers, and held herself apart from the social board. At
length, however, the maid-servant Iambe succeeded, by means [54]of playful jests
and merriment, in somewhat dispelling the grief of the sorrowing mother,
causing her at times to smile in spite of herself, and even inducing her
to partake of a mixture of barley-meal, mint, and water, which was
prepared according to the directions of the goddess herself. Time passed
on, and the young child throve amazingly under the care of his kind and
judicious nurse, who, however, gave him no food, but anointed him daily
with ambrosia, and every night laid him secretly in the fire in order to
render him immortal and exempt from old age. But, unfortunately, this
benevolent design on the part of Demeter was frustrated by Metaneira
herself, whose curiosity, one night, impelled her to watch the
proceedings of the mysterious being who nursed her child. When to her
horror she beheld her son placed in the flames, she shrieked aloud.
Demeter, incensed at this untimely interruption, instantly withdrew the
child, and throwing him on the ground, revealed herself in her true
character. The bent and aged form had vanished, and in its place there
stood a bright and beauteous being, whose golden locks streamed over her
shoulders in richest luxuriance, her whole aspect bespeaking dignity and
majesty. She told the awe-struck Metaneira that she was the goddess
Demeter, and had intended to make her son immortal, but that her fatal
curiosity had rendered this impossible, adding, however, that the child,
having slept in her arms, and been nursed on her lap, should ever command
the respect and esteem of mankind. She then desired that a temple and
altar should be erected to her on a neighbouring hill by the people of
Eleusis, promising that she herself would direct them how to perform the
sacred rites and ceremonies, which should be observed in her honour. With
these words she took her departure never to return.

Obedient to her commands, Celeus called together a meeting of his
people, and built the temple on the spot which the goddess had indicated.
It was soon completed, and Demeter took up her abode in it, but her heart
was still sad for the loss of her daughter, and the whole world felt the
influence of her grief and dejection. This was [55]indeed a terrible year
for mankind. Demeter no longer smiled on the earth she was wont to bless,
and though the husbandman sowed the grain, and the groaning oxen ploughed
the fields, no harvest rewarded their labour. All was barren, dreary
desolation. The world was threatened with famine, and the gods with the
loss of their accustomed honours and sacrifices; it became evident,
therefore, to Zeus himself that some measures must be adopted to appease
the anger of the goddess. He accordingly despatched Iris and many of the
other gods and goddesses to implore Demeter to return to Olympus; but all
their prayers were fruitless. The incensed goddess swore that until her
daughter was restored to her she would not allow the grain to spring
forth from the earth. At length Zeus sent Hermes, his faithful messenger,
to the lower world with a petition to Aïdes, urgently entreating him to
restore Persephone to the arms of her disconsolate mother. When he
arrived in the gloomy realms of Aïdes, Hermes found him seated on a
throne with the beautiful Persephone beside him, sorrowfully bewailing
her unhappy fate. On learning his errand, Aïdes consented to resign
Persephone, who joyfully prepared to follow the messenger of the gods to
the abode of life and light. Before taking leave of her husband, he
presented to her a few seeds of pomegranate, which in her excitement she
thoughtlessly swallowed, and this simple act, as the sequel will show,
materially affected her whole future life. The meeting between mother and
child was one of unmixed rapture, and for the moment all the past was
forgotten. The loving mother’s happiness would now have been complete had
not Aïdes asserted his rights. These were, that if any immortal had
tasted food in his realms they were bound to remain there for ever. Of
course the ruler of the lower world had to prove this assertion. This,
however, he found no difficulty in doing, as Ascalaphus, the son of
Acheron and Orphne, was his witness to the fact.^[25] Zeus, pitying the disappointment of
Demeter at finding [56]her hopes thus blighted, succeeded in
effecting a compromise by inducing his brother Aïdes to allow Persephone
to spend six months of the year with the gods above, whilst during the
other six she was to be the joyless companion of her grim lord below.
Accompanied by her daughter, the beautiful Persephone, Demeter now
resumed her long-abandoned dwelling in Olympus; the sympathetic earth
responded gaily to her bright smiles, the corn at once sprang forth from
the ground in fullest plenty, the trees, which late were sered and bare,
now donned their brightest emerald robes, and the flowers, so long
imprisoned in the hard, dry soil, filled the whole air with their
fragrant perfume. Thus ends this charming story, which was a favourite
theme with all the classic authors.

It is very possible that the poets who first created this graceful
myth merely intended it as an allegory to illustrate the change of
seasons; in the course of time, however, a literal meaning became
attached to this and similar poetical fancies, and thus the people of
Greece came to regard as an article of religious belief what, in the
first instance, was nothing more than a poetic simile.

In the temple erected to Demeter at Eleusis, the famous Eleusinian
Mysteries were instituted by the goddess herself. It is exceedingly
difficult, as in the case of all secret societies, to discover anything
with certainty concerning these sacred rites. The most plausible
supposition is that the doctrines taught by the priests to the favoured
few whom they initiated, were religious truths which were deemed unfit
for the uninstructed mind of the multitude. For instance, it is supposed
that the myth of Demeter and Persephone was explained by the teachers of
the Mysteries to signify the temporary loss which mother earth sustains
every year when the icy breath of winter robs her of her flowers and
fruits and grain.

It is believed that in later times a still deeper meaning was conveyed
by this beautiful myth, viz., the doctrine of the immortality of the
soul. The grain, which, as it were, remains dead for a time in the dark
earth, only [57]to rise one day dressed in a newer and
lovelier garb, was supposed to symbolize the soul, which, after death,
frees itself from corruption, to live again under a better and purer
form.

When Demeter instituted the Eleusinian Mysteries, Celeus and his
family were the first to be initiated, Celeus himself being appointed
high-priest. His son Triptolemus and his daughters, who acted as
priestesses, assisted him in the duties of his sacred office. The
Mysteries were celebrated by the Athenians every five years, and were,
for a long time, their exclusive privilege. They took place by
torchlight, and were conducted with the greatest solemnity.

In order to spread abroad the blessings which agriculture confers,
Demeter presented Triptolemus with her chariot drawn by winged dragons,
and, giving him some grains of corn, desired him to journey through the
world, teaching mankind the arts of agriculture and husbandry.

Demeter exercised great severity towards those who incurred her
displeasure. We find examples of this in the stories of Stellio and
Eresicthon. Stellio was a youth who ridiculed the goddess for the
eagerness with which she was eating a bowl of porridge, when weary and
faint in the vain search for her daughter. Resolved that he should never
again have an opportunity of thus offending, she angrily threw into his
face the remainder of the food, and changed him into a spotted
lizard.

Eresicthon, son of Triopas, had drawn upon himself the anger of
Demeter by cutting down her sacred groves, for which she punished him
with a constant and insatiable hunger. He sold all his possessions in
order to satisfy his cravings, and was forced at last to devour his own
limbs. His daughter Metra, who was devotedly attached to him, possessed
the power of transforming herself into a variety of different animals. By
this means she contrived to support her father, who sold her again and
again each time she assumed a different form, and thus he dragged on a
pitiful existence. [58]

CERES.

The Roman Ceres is actually the Greek Demeter under another name, her
attributes, worship, festivals, &c., being precisely identical.

The Romans were indebted to Sicily for this divinity, her worship
having been introduced by the Greek colonists who settled there.

The Cerealia, or festivals in honour of Ceres, commenced on the 12th
of April, and lasted several days.