ment."

To any one who fully feels and understands what is meant to be conveyed
by this incantation--and a great deal is expressed by passionate singing
and a deep thrilling intonation which the text does not give--my
translation will appear to be quite accurate. But, in any case, no
scholar or poet can deny that there is in it a strange depth of classic
feeling, or of old Roman romance, not strained at second-hand through
books, but evidently drawn from rude antiquity, which is as fresh in its
ring as it is marvellous.

It may be observed as exquisitely curious that in this incantation the
peasant who wishes to become a skilled performer on the flageolet _buries
it for three days in the ground_, invoking Orpheus by what the spirit
suffered in losing Eurydice, and subsequently distinctly declaring that
he won or conjured his great musical power from Hades, which means that
by the penance and loss, and his braving the terrors of the Inferno, he
gained _skill_. This is a mighty element of the myth in all its forms,
in all ages, in every country. The burying the instrument for three days
probably typifies the three days during which Orpheus was in hell.

It may be observed that Eurydice has become _Auradice_ in the
incantation, in which there is probably an intimation of _Aura_, a light
wind or zephyr. Air is so naturally associated with music. This, by a
very singular coincidence, yet certainly due to mere chance, recalls the
invocation to the Spirit of the Air, given by Bulwer in "The Last Days of
Pompeii":

"Spectre of the viewless air,
Hear the blind Thessalian's prayer,
By Erichtho's art that shed
Dews of life when life was fled,
By lone Ithaca's wise king,
Who could wake the crystal spring
To the voice of prophecy
_By the lost Eurydice_!
Summoned from the shadowy throng,
At the muse-son's magic song:
Come, wild Demon of the Air,
Answer to thy votary's prayer."

It is indeed very remarkable that in the call to the God of Music, who is
in certain wise a spirit of the air, as in that to the Spirit of the Air
himself, both are invoked:

"By the lost Eurydice!"

If it could be shown that Bulwer owed this poem and allusion to any
ancient work or tradition, I should be tempted to believe that the
popular invocation was derived from some source in common with the
latter. There is indeed a quaint naive drollery in the word
_Aura_dice--"Air-tell!" or "Air-