Scorpio, on some Egyptian zodiacs, is a serpent-in others Typhon, depictured as the devil now is, with a serpent's tail and breathing flames.

In Montfaucon there are many representations of the Hesperian tree, with a serpent twined round it, and a male and female on the opposite sides.

So much for illustration of the Mosaic theory of the fall. The Hesperian gardens, in fact, were the pagan Paradise-the golden apples the fruit of the tree of life-and the dragon, or seraph, the angel who guarded the way of it. Sometimes, indeed, a chimæra, resembling the Jewish cherubim, was substituted for the seraph or fiery serpent. At others, the golden apples were converted into a golden fleece, and the bulls (the cherubim of the Hebrews), with fiery breath, were the guardians. Griffins (a mixed monster, also resembling the cherub,) are, in a different hieroglyphical version of the same story, guarding the "treasures of the everlasting hills" promised to Joseph. Throughout it is the same Mosaic story, only differently coloured by the picturing vehicle.

It can scarcely be doubted that Jacob, in his blessing on the twelve tribes, alluded to the figures of some Chaldean or Egyptian zodiac. Without we admit this, we must infer that the patriarch uttered complete nonsense. If, as is not disputed, the twelve tribes were signalized by the twelve signs of the zodiac on their standards, they must have adopted them from the circumstances of Jacob's prophecy. In blessing the twelve tribes which were to fill the world, it is not only not wonderful that the old patriarch should refer to the twelve signs, but they clearly furnished the most obvious illustration, and the most lasting memorial. Common sense, therefore, is in favour of an argument which has been exclusively referred to Sir William Drummond, but which belongs to Kircher.

The scriptural allusions to Taurus are the following: "His glory (Joseph's) is like the firstlings of the bullock;" see blessing of Moses. Ephraim is as a heifer;" Hosea." And unto Enoch (behemoth, or the ox) thou has given one part to dwell wherein are a thousand hills;" Esdras.-Jacob's blessing on Joseph (according to the reading of Hebraists), is as follows: "Joseph is a fruitful bull by a well, whose children run over the neck. The archers have sorely grieved him, and shot at and hated him, but his bow abode in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the Mighty One of Jacob; from thence is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel." Now, I maintain, that all this is nothing but a correct translation of the antediluvian prophecy, pictorially represented in the figures which accompany Taurus, as extant on the planisphere and zodaic of Dendereh. Let us arrange them in the order in which they presented themselves to the eyes of Jacob, the inspired interpreter

of an imagery not improbably invented by his great antediluvian ancestor Seth, the Thoth of Egypt.

A bull, and near it an eye in a circle (ain means an eye or well). A representation of the seven Atlantida, or Hesperida, on the neck of Taurus. Another representation of a bull recumbent, and shot at by an archer. Two more characters expressive of the same violence. A bull beheaded. A chimerical figure of the head and thigh of Taurus held chained by Typhon, while another personage transfixes it with an arrow. To this the allusion of the Brethren, or Gemini, the next sign, also applies. "Cursed be their wrath, for it was cruel, for in their anger they slew a man, and in their self-will they houghed an ox." In fact," violence" characterizes the whole of these two starry habitations. Next we have the Bowman rising from the decapitated Taurus, and destroying the power of Evil as Scorpio. The strange metaphor, the "arms of the hands," is doubtless taken from the front limbs of the Chimæra, representing Sagittarius having human hands. Next to Taurus is the Shepherd, with his pastoral staff, the Shiloh elsewhere noticed, and directly beneath Agathodamon on a square stone.

Symbolic mementos of man's predicted restoration, and the means to be employed for effecting it, are equally common as those which record his fall. But as these will more naturally occur during the consideration of other portions of the zodaic, I shall confine myself at present to such only as relate to Taurus.

Apis was drowned at particular periods, as a symbol of the flood-as a symbol of the anticipated hope of the ancient world, he was buried in a sarcophagus-and on the fourth day a new Apis was led forth to the people, as a pledge of the resurrection. It was by a violent death of the chief god (such was the dogma of the earliest priests), that man was to be restored. A bull was torn to pieces at the Bacchanalian orgies. Apis was cut in pieces, as was Osiris, whom he represented, before he was deposited in his three days' sepulchre. The thigh was set apart as something mystical and sacred. A vast number of evidences of this are to be found in the sculptures of Belzoni's tomb. As for the head, the curse of evil was laid upon it in Egypt, as it is now in India. On the zodiac of Esneh the head and thigh of Apis are on the point of being pierced by a figure with an arrow. At Dendereh, a bull is represented shot at by an archer. In the centre of the planisphere of the latter place is the thigh of Apis, and Typhon standing beside it with a sacrificial knife *. The archer at Dendereh is a Centaur, and thence, perhaps, the name, which means to pierce a bull. It is, indeed, a remarkable fact, that the original Sagittarius is a winged and crowned figure

*Among the Mythratic sculptures is a head of Taurus hung on a tree, with a quiver of arrows suspended beside it

having a bow, and with the face of a man and lion (precisely the conquering Messiah of the Apocalypse). This was the goldenhaired Chrysaor of the mythologists, and the golden-winged divine love of Aristophanes. The half human figure in question is represented as rising from the decapitated body of Apis, and beyond a doubt was a symbol of the resurrection of Horus, the second person of the Egyptian trinity, who is called by ancient writers the Mediator, who generally grasps a fac simile of the Christian cross, and who is represented sometimes nursed upon the lap of Virgo, and at another piercing Typhon, or the great dragon, with his finally-extirpating arrows. It is not, therefore, unlikely that, as the terminating scene of the mysteries, Horus, or Chrysaor, was represented rising in glory from the sarcophagus in which the severed fragments of Apis had been deposited.

Anon a tremulous flash

Detects a sable interposing veil *,

Which severs that monotonous grim room :
And broidered images of gods are seen
Fluttering across it, as the light augments
In ever-varying lines, and fleeting hues.
It parts, it rolls away. The illumined flood
Which follows, palsies each inebriate sense.
Before a tabernacle strewed with gems
A sculptured coffer lay. Twice rose the cry
Of Eleu, Eleulu! and, at the last,

The alabaster lid was rolled aside.

Then, from the depth of its mysterious womb
A vision rose amidst the curling smoke,
Of white-wreathed incense and odorous myrrh ;
A regal visage, diademed with rays,

And shining like the sun †, engendering day
In the dark bosom of rock-canopied night.

E. C.

FRAGMENTS.

No. I.

The west is clad in thousand dyes;
The busy hum of day declines;
Peering in beauty from the skies,

The silver star of evening shines.

*From mystor, a veil, comes mystery. See Fragments of Linus in the New Times.

+ It is supposed that an image of Sol inferus was the final exhibition of the mysteries.

The air is cool, and round my brow
The evening breezes softly play,
As up this shaded pathway now
I wind my solitary way.

In such a scene, at such an hour,

The wounded heart may seek repose; And feel sweet Nature's balmy power Steal softly o'er his cherish'd woes.

In such a scene, at such a time,

The sage may roam, from labour free; Till, settling slow, his thoughts sublime Subside in still vacuity.

And I have thought-'twere sweet to rove
For ever in a scene like this,
The calm around, the calm above,
My only, my sufficient bliss.

No. II.

- φρένα τερπόμενον φόρμιγγι λιγείη. IL. ix.

AWAKE, my pensive muse, and raise
A low, a deep, and solemn song,
A record of departed days,

And joys long lost, and cherish'd long.

Oh! when shall fear and strife be o'er,
And torn affection cease to smart ;
And peace and love return once more
To cheer a sad and vacant heart?

The lamp of hope is quench'd in night,
And dim is friendship's soul-bright eye,
And cold the hearth of home delight,
And mute the voice of poesy.

I seek for comfort all in vain,
I fly to shadows for relief,

And call old fancies back again,

And breathe on pleasure's wither'd leaf.

It may not be my lot of ill

Was dealt me by a mightier hand;

The woe, that came not at my will,

Will not depart at my command!

}

No. III.

O'er the landscape as we stray,
All is fair, or calm, or gay;

Flow'r-bright meadows, glassy brooks,
Giving back the sun's kind looks:
Hamlets, from whose chimneys red
Wreaths of morning smoke are spread;
Dells, where QUIET musing walks,
Or with ECHO only talks ;

Hillocks green, with tufted crests,
Over which the white sun rests,
Half mingled with a folding cloud-

*

While the song-birds on the spray
Are tuning loud their carols gay;
While through air the butterfly,
Like a wing'd flow'ret, glances by ;
Swallows skim across the land,

Like rolling ball from school-boy's hand :
All is fair, or calm, or gay,

This is Nature's holiday.

No. IV.

FRAGMENT OF A POETICAL ROMANCE.

The sky has lost the beams of day,
The cold night-breezes o'er me play;
Softly and still the round white moon
Looks on me from her tranquil noon;
Alone beneath her gentle reign

I sit, and weave my varying strain :
Pensive I sit; for they are far

Who should have cheer'd these efforts on

Their memory's but as a star

That lights us when the sun is gone.

I love thee, Moon! in thy soft eye

I read a tale of days gone by;

So sweet, so solemn, didst thou shine,

When one whose heart was mix'd with mine

Before these eyes first came :

And years have past, and fortunes chang'd
And hearts that loved are now estrang'd,
But thou art still the same!

G.