Jesus said, "If those who lead you say to you, 'See, the kingdom is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the kingdom is inside of you, and it is outside of you. When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will realize that it is you who are the sons of the living father. But if you will not know yourselves, you dwell in poverty and it is you who are that poverty."
This is the only statement I have ever seen that makes it clear that there were those in Pagan belief who deemed the Kingdom of Heaven was not only in the sky, or in the stars, or in the underworld, but was also in the sea. Given this understanding the figure of the Mermaid takes on many more shades of meaning. She was the angel of the water realm, the Oceanic valkyrie come to the shore, or the wreck, to take the dead and dying to their place in the afterlife. She was a promise of rebirth. She was perhaps the Peri, or Houri, of an under the Sea paradise as well.

I think such literal interpretation (to think that we go to the oceanic underworld upon death) of religious symbolism was mainly a mistake of the layman, and perhaps a comfort to simple folk, such as sailors. I think the symbolism of the mermaid suggested an under water heaven, but that this was not what was really intended to be understood from her. Much as an egg may symbolize the pre-cosmic bang universe, without meaning the universe hatched from an egg literally.

That the Celts believed in an oceanic underworld, or after life is suggested in the Lebor Gabala Erenn, when the bard Amergin refers to "the cattle of Tethra" which in the Tochmarch Emire, Cuchulain explains "the cattle of Tethra" as a kenning for fish, and the sea as the plain of Tethra. In Immacallam in Dá Thúarad, the poet , Nede, reffers to "the mighty men of Tethra." To me this seems to say that the fish and the mighty warriors are one and the same, the worthy dead, as are forever feasting in Odin's hall.
http://www.maryjones.us/jce/tethra.html

Obvious symbols for the soul are small, light, elusive creatures such as the wren, the mouse or bat, and likely we can include the fish now. So we see the fish is not only the Virgin Mother Goddess (virgin because fish are seemingly asexual), but also the soul she births into life.

The most famous literary version of Melusine tales, that of Jean d'Arras, compiled about 1382 - 1394 was worked into a collection of "spinning yarns" as told by ladies at their spinning.

The tale was translated into the English language c. 1500, and often printed in both the 15th century and the 16th century. (There is also a prose version called the Chronique de la princesse.)

It tells how Elynas, the King of Albany (a poetical euphemism for Scotland) went hunting one day and came across a beautiful lady in the forest. She was Pressyne, mother of Melusine. He persuaded her to marry him but she agreed, only on the promise — for there is often a hard and fatal condition attached to any pairing of fay and mortal — that he must not enter her chamber when she birthed or bathed her children. She gave birth to triplets. When he violated this taboo, Pressyne left the kingdom, together with her three daughters, and traveled to the lost Isle of Avalon.

The three girls — Melusine, Melior, and Palatyne — grew up in Avalon. On their fifteenth birthday, Melusine, the eldest, asked why they had been taken to Avalon. Upon hearing of their father's broken promise, Melusine sought revenge. She and her sisters captured Elynas and locked him, with his riches, in a mountain. Pressyne became enraged when she learned what the girls had done, and punished them for their disrespect to their father. Melusine was condemned to take the form of a serpent from the waist down every Saturday.

Raymond of Poitou came across Melusine in a forest in France, and proposed marriage. Just as her mother had done, she laid a condition, that he must never enter her chamber on a Saturday. He broke the promise and saw her in the form of a part-woman part-serpent. She forgave him. Only when, during a disagreement with her, he called her a "serpent" in front of his court, did she assume the form of a dragon, provide him with two magic rings and fly off, never to return.

In "The Wandering Unicorn" by Manuel Mujica Láinez, Melusine tells her tale of several centuries of existance from her original curse to the time of the crusades.[1]

Jason Isaacs as James Hook -

Ariel, the "little mermaid" in the Disney® film, is much more than a fairy tale for little girls. Rather, she is a powerful metaphor for the plight of the "Sacred Feminine" over the last several thousand years of western civilization. Since Mary Magdalene, the "Lost Bride" in the Christian story, is a "carrier" of the Sacred Feminine, (in fact, a composite of Aphrodite, Athene, and Demeter, not to mention similarities with Isis, Inanna and Astarte--and the Holy Sophia!), this discussion is relevant especially to her. She was to have been the Lady of the Age of Pisces as Christ was its Lord, forming together the sacred mandala of "hieros gamos" for the Age of the Fishes.

What happened to this "Goddess" of the ancient world--she who was "Queen of Heaven and Earth"? She has been systematically devalued and made diminutive, relegated into the watery depths of our unconscious (like Ariel, the seventh of seven sisters), controlled and patronized by the "benevolent" patriarchy (Ariel's father, King Triton, in the Disney movie). Ariel's face is dark, like that of the Bride in the Song of Songs (1:5), "swarthy" from her labor in her brothers' vineyards. And she has long wavy red hair, a commonly held attribute of Mary Magdalene.

And what is the dream and desire of Ariel, the littlest mermaid? Why, to walk upon the green earth, out in the sunlight. It is interesting to note that in the Disney film, it is not Ariel who needs to be saved, but rather it is the "handsome Prince" who is in deep trouble, shipwrecked and dying (the condition of the partriarchy at the dawn of Aquarius??) it is Ariel who is HIS redeemer, not the other way around!

In her cave under the ocean, Ariel collects artifacts from Spanish galleons shipwrecked at sea. She examines the commonplace items used by humans and wonders what they are for and what it would be like to be human. Among her treasures is a painting by Georges de la Tour called "Magdalen with the Smoking Flame." Mary is gazing at a candle burning on the table beside her. In the film, Ariel tries to pluck the flame out of the picture.

Of all the possible pictures available from art galleries around the world, it is incredibly significant that the directors of the Disney® film chose to place Mary Magdalene at the bottom of the sea, for it is SHE who represents the lost Bride and the archetype of the "Sacred Feminine" as partner in Christian mythology. She also represents the Church as Bride and was recognized as the model for "ekklesia" by the early Christian fathers -- the "beloved community" redeemed by Christ. In this connection, it is almost uncanny that the little mermaid is called Ariel, for Ariel is a synonym for Jerusalem, the Holy City besieged (see Isaiah 29:1-8). Either the use of these symbols was deliberate on the part of the directors of the film, or it rose spontaneously from the depths of their unconscious and was intuited to be appropriate!

And what is the condition of young Ariel? She, too, is besieged. She is chided and teased about her wish to be human. Her kindly father and the sea witch even conspire to prevent her from being joined with her beloved. Her voice is stolen and she is unable to speak her truth. In a similar way, Magdalene's voice was "stolen" when she was called prostitute (without any scriptural justification whatsoever!). Her story was desecrated, her robes and mantle of honor, like those of the Bride in the Canticle, were stripped from her by the "guardians of the walls" (5:7).

In the film, the little mermaid does not carry a book and a mirror by accident. These are icons readily identified in Medieval art. The mirror is not just a symbol for feminine vanity but represents the role of the material world (Mater, mother, matter) to manifest the Divine in "the flesh," as the moon mirrors the sun. The "Sophia" is called the "immaculate mirror" of Divine energy. The book represents all natural and spiritual law -- science and revelation -- and the Wisdom of seeking to know God's precepts. In Medieval times the adage "Nothing is without meaning" applied to every icon in every painting. I would love to ask the Disney® film director if these icons were used by holy accident -- or by design.

An interesting aside is that the Merovingian bloodline, identified as the "vine of Mary" in the heresy of the Holy Grail, is said to have had a mermaid as a progenitoress and to be descended from a king "Merovee" who was half man, half fish. Mermaids are prominent among the medieval watermarks related to the heresy of the bloodline, and some are rendered with the fleur-de-lis of the Merovingians entwined around their double tails. The connection of Mary Magdalene with the mermaid and the "Queen of the Sea" is very old.

What is the ultimate desire of the "devalued" Feminine archetype personified by "Ariel"? Of course, it is to be reunited with the "Divine Masculine" in sacred partnership -- not sublimated to his interests as her savior and mentor, but as his partner, his Beloved and his equal -- something women are barely able to imagine after centuries of being the "little sister," one of the poignant epithets of the Bride in the Song of Songs! (8:8)

Carl Jung speaks of the condition of the patriarchy at the end of the age when its energy has been spent and it is no longer able to uphold the "establishment" it has built over the millennia. The "masculine" suffers burnout. Jung calls it the "enantiodromia." At some point, the feminine rises and returns to lend her strength and for a period the two are reconciled and unite to forge a new cultural "thrust" for the next age. It is time now for the "sacred feminine" to reemerge to play her role in the waning hours of the Age of Pisces, for her "prince" can't be whole without her!

How interesting that the image of the little mermaid, with the MM's of Mary Magdalene formed at the ends of her two tails and in her crown, is posted at streetcorners worldwide in the form of the Starbucks® logo! She is the "siren" calling to us from our unconscious, hoping that we will hear her voice! She is intent on finding her way into our conscious lives as she rises to join her Beloved!

Ave Millennium -- MM!
by Margaret Starbird
© 1999

The name also conveniently brings up the idea of stardom and big bucks—both very appealing to the typical American consumer. On a more cynical note, Starbuck happens to be the name of the charismatic con man in "The Rainmaker"—a connection that makes one wonder, given that Starbucks originated in rainy Seattle. My more sinister reading—a more interesting one that connects the siren logo back to Mary—is to trace the name further back to the story of the Essex, the whaling ship on which Melville's Pequod was based. At the beginning of Nathaniel Philbrick's In the Heart of the Sea: the Epic True Story that Inspired Moby Dick, one finds these curious facts: "English Nantucketers resisted all attempts to establish a church on the island, partly because a woman by the name of Mary Coffin Starbuck forbade it. It was said that nothing of consequence was done on Nantucket without Mary's approval. Mary Coffin and Nathaniel Starbuck had been the first English couple to be married on the island . . ." That is, Mary was the first to "mate"; her last name is associated with death and also sounds like "coffee"; and her first name associates her directly with the sea and Mary Magdalene. (It's enough to make you think you're hearing the theme from X-Files.)

No wonder Starbucks has been so successful, and no wonder they have so many outlets in Barnes and Noble stores, which sell books—a source of wisdom. You may be reading this article while sipping a cup of Starbucks latte. The mermaid/siren may be a vestige of ancient myth and folklore, but its lure is as pervasive and as powerful as ever.

This simultaneous attraction to and fear of female sexuality as the underlying logic behind the mermaid is actually confirmed by other mythological half-humans. The male counterpart to the mermaid, the triton, lacks the mermaid's mystery and seductiveness; he is actually a sort of aquatic satyr (a kind of male nymphomaniac). Other prominent half-man and half-animal figures, including the Minotaur (with a bull's head) and the centaur (with a horse's body and so also its genitalia) all exaggerate masculine phallic power while the mermaid represents and amplifies what men fundamentally lack. It is only the holiest of masculine figures like Christ who are both born of the figurative mermaid and maintain a direct symbolic connection to their aquatic origins. (Even the Buddha shows such a connection, since he is the son of Maya, who is associated with the moon. Many representations of the Buddha include webbed fingers as one of his divine markings.)

The truth one learns from the mermaid/siren is that patriarchy, especially the Judeo-Christian variety, is a relative latecomer in human history. The new religions could not, and can not, ever overwrite the undercurrents of the more ancient traditions that preceded them, regardless of how concerted their efforts to do so.

And so the Starbucks logo is a brilliant piece of design, which, oddly enough, resonates with much of what I've discussed above. The original logo made quite explicit that Starbucks was using the lure of female sexuality to draw the customer to their coffee, but now you can see that the coffee is linked to the double lure of ultimate wisdom and the pleasures of the flesh. The name of the company, about which there is relatively little deep inquiry, actually makes the connection even more interesting. Apparently, the owners of Starbucks originally wanted to call their company "Moby's Coffee," referring to Moby Dick, the great white whale in Herman Melville's classic novel (which is read as a Christian allegory, the whale representing Christ). But bringing up the image of a giant whale was deemed potentially unattractive for coffee drinkers. And so a new logo was designed, but the name "Starbucks" maintains the connection to Moby Dick—Starbuck is the name of the coffee-drinking first mate from Nantucket, the only man who challenges the mad Ahab.

The word "mermaid" is usually read as "sea maid," but it is more properly glossed as "sea maiden" or "virgin of the sea." This is because of the many connections between the mermaid and the ancient Goddess, whose origin and power are associated with the sea. But if one happens to know French, the first syllable, "mer," takes on another significance, which is not merely an accident of etymology: mer is "sea," and it sounds much like mêre or "mother." Without going into the Indo-European origins for words that sound like "mare" or the prefix "mer" (ranging from the mother horse to the "mer" in "merry"), let it suffice to say that one of the underlying deep meanings of "mermaid" is "virgin mother," directly linking the term and the figure it names with the Virgin Mary.

There are three other bits of information worth bringing together here, all mentioned in The Woman's Dictionary, though gleaned from various sources ranging from the Oxford English Dictionary to Joseph Campbell's multivolume The Masks of God series. First, the mermaid and siren were terms and symbols that referred to prostitutes in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Second, "The ancients insisted that women's sexual secretions smelled like fish, which is why the sign of the yoni came to be called vesica piscis. One of the Hindu titles of the Great Goddess was 'a virgin named Fishy Smell, whose real name was Truth'" (quoting from Joseph Campbell). And third, "Medieval books of alchemy described the mermaid as the Siren of the Philosophers, crowned and lactating the milk of enlightenment," something also attributed to the Virgin Mary (there are Medieval paintings in which St. Sebastian is suckling from Mary's breast to drink this divine milk).

Every culture has its mermaid figures, but those from Western traditions are especially relevant to my discussion here: the Celtic selkie, the morgens of Brittany, the German nixie, the Norwegian havfrau, the veen of Finland, the tritonids and nereids of Greece, the vedava of Eastern Europe. (The mermaids and water spirits of East Asia and Africa follow similar universal themes but play somewhat different roles in their cultures, in part due to differing attitudes toward sexuality.)

Scarlett deMason notes that the mermaid's "abundant, flowing hair, symbolizing an abundant love potential, was also an attribute of Venus in her role as fertility goddess. Her comb . . . carried sexual connotations for the Greeks, as their words for comb, kteis and pecten, also signified the female vulva. Thus the mermaid is the surviving aspect of the old goddesses . . . ." Regardless of where we begin our interpretation of the mermaid, or which analytic path we take, we are brought back, again and again, to the ancient Great Goddess, the archetype behind the figure of Mary, who in Christian culture is usually split into the virginal Madonna and the holy prostitute. The mermaid ultimately signifies the fundamental mystery of female sexuality, particularly for men who, because they cannot comprehend it, are simultaneously drawn to it and terrified by it. That is why the mermaid becomes so easily conflated with the siren and her irresistible call that leads men to their doom.

In contrast to Ariel, and yet reflective of the same underlying ideology, is the siren/mermaid featured in the recent horror film, She Creature. This mermaid, who can periodically become a legged woman, turns out to be the great Queen Mother of all mermaids. She seduces men and literally eats them, and her sexual power also influences the sexuality of other women. (The film does an excellent job of establishing "traditional" mermaid lore, but disintegrates into an imitation of Aliens by its conclusion, making an interesting connection even with its narrative shortcomings.)

The mercreature has appeared prominently in popular films (like Splash, which gives us another sanitized mermaid who saves a drowning man and leaves the sea for him), in television shows (Alyssa Milano recently turned into a mermaid in an episode of Charmed), commercials (most notably a European Levis commercial, too racy to show in the U.S.), and in music videos (including one by Madonna). In its siren form, it also appears in the film Dagon, a mediocre and yet interesting interpretation of H.P. Lovecraft's mythos. Dagon is a bit tedious in its depiction of the weird fishing village literally devolving back into the sea, but its mermaid presents a prime example of how the old mythos can be reconstituted even without systematically intending to do so.

The mermaid in Dagon appears in the dreams of the hapless protagonist, a young man destined to become her husband. She "calls" to him through a psychic connection, using her siren-like power; and when they finally meet, we discover that she is both the daughter of the Cthuluvian fish god and a sort of high priestess in the ancient religion that has destroyed and replaced the local Catholicism. She tries to seduce the protagonist, but as their passionate embrace begins, he discovers her split fish tail and runs away in disgust and horror.

The mermaid's ultimate purpose is to mate with the protagonist and spawn a new race. When he realizes he cannot resist her, upon learning that she is his own sister, the protagonist tries to kill himself with purifying fire. But that, too, fails, and in the final scene, we see the two of them swimming deep in the ocean, approaching a black pit at the center of a symbol that is both the Eye of God and the vesica piscis. The mermaid's split tail swishes gracefully behind her as they approach the Abyss.

Dagon and She Creature both emphasize the mermaid's irresistibility, her perverse sexuality, and her danger to both the man's body and soul. The major symbolic difference between the two films is that while She Creature concludes by privileging and demonizing female sexuality, linking that theme to men's doom, Dagon also uses the mermaid's sexuality to finally bring the man back to his "true" nature. Unfortunately, neither film is truly in control of its underlying theme; both of them construct their mermaid symbols without thinking through their ultimate meanings. (Dagon's mermaid is uncannily similar to the Starbucks siren, but that is probably just coincidence.)

The full article is here(you must copy and paste as well as unscramble it):
http://www. endicott-studio.com/jMA03Summer/theMermaid.html

Now that I've laid out this complex set of connections, let me return to the figure of the mermaid, which is at the center of these associations.

The most well-known mermaid in contemporary American culture is, of course, Ariel, the sanitized and disempowered representation who serves a heterosexual marriage plot typical of Disney films. Ariel is not only nice, she is, in many ways, an inversion of the mythic mermaid. She sacrifices her beautiful voice to gain the temporary legs that will allow her to woo her terrestrial love, Eric. While the traditional mermaids are said to seduce sailors with the sound of their beautiful singing, luring them into shipwreck and death in order to consume their souls (because they, themselves lack a soul), Ariel does exactly the reverse. She saves Eric from a shipwreck, and when she marries him to become a terrestrial princess, she figuratively becomes his soulmate. It's as if Disney set out systematically to obliterate the traditional mermaid mythos. There is nothing inherently attractive about Eric (except his appearance, in contrast to the purposely distorted images of his fellow sailors). For Ariel, he represents the epitome of things human, to which she has an irrational attraction.

In the wake of Ariel's romantic happy ending, we are left with the image of King Triton—a Neptune/Poseidon/Oannes figure—exchanging himself as hostage for his daughter (in an interesting reversal of what happens between father and daughter in "Beauty and the Beast"); and an inverted image of the great, nurturing Sea-mother as represented in Ursula, the Sea-witch. Oannes, the primal godlike fish-man is disempowered; the Great Goddess, associated with the sea, is turned into an evil witch. These inversions and disempowerments are actually parallel to how religions build on top of earlier ones—Christianity did precisely the same thing to earlier mythic traditions.

The full article is here(you must copy and paste as well as unscramble it):
http://www. endicott-studio.com/jMA03Summer/theMermaid.html

Sheila-na-gig is a general reference to female figures that prominently display their genitalia to signify the power of female sexuality and fertility. These images are also quite prominent in the decoration of sacred sites in general and are thought to be a legacy of the older Goddess religions whose holy sites were usually taken over by later religions. The shape of the genitalia in these squatting figures is also symbolic of the vesica piscis, the "vessel of the fish," which is also associated with Christ. The well-known Christian "fish" symbol (seen prominently on the backs of many cars these days) is the ICHTHYS, referring to the Greek acronym for "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior."

We tend to associate the equation of Christ and fish with the miracle of the loaves and fishes, or the fact that some of the disciples were fishermen (Christ as the fisherman of souls), but the symbol has an older origin connected with a more ancient myth. The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects notes that "Ichthys was the name of a son of the ancient Sea-goddess, Atargatis, also known as Tirgata, Aphrodite, Derceto, Salacia, Pelagia, or Delphine, whose name meant both 'womb' and 'dolphin'; all appeared in mermaid form. In a way, however, Jesus could be called the same Ichthys as the son of Sea-mother Mari, whose blue robe, pearle necklace, and much-varied name referred to the world's oceans: Maria, Marina, Marian, Mariamne, Myrrhine, Myrrha, Mari-Yamm, Mari-El, and Stella Maris, the Star of the Sea."

The full article is here(you must copy and paste as well as unscramble it):
http://www. endicott-studio.com/jMA03Summer/theMermaid.html

Gospel of Thomas

Jesus said, "If those who lead you say to you, 'See, the kingdom is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the kingdom is inside of you, and it is outside of you. When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will realize that it is you who are the sons of the living father. But if you will not know yourselves, you dwell in poverty and it is you who are that poverty."

This is the only statement I have ever seen that makes it clear that there were those in Pagan belief who deemed the Kingdom of Heaven was not only in the sky, or in the stars, or in the underworld, but was also in the sea. Given this understanding the figure of the Mermaid takes on many more shades of meaning. She was the angel of the water realm, the Oceanic valkyrie come to the shore, or the wreck, to take the dead and dying to their place in the afterlife. She was a promise of rebirth. She was perhaps the Peri, or Houri, of and under the Sea paradise as well.

I think such literal interpretation of religious symbolism was mainly a mistake of the layman, and perhaps a comfort to simple folk, such as sailors. I think the symbolism of the mermaid suggested an under water heaven, but that this was not what was really intended to be understood from her. Much as an egg may symbolize the pre-cosmic bang universe, without meaning the universe hatched from an egg literally.

I ran into a wonderful article today that draws together much of the understanding I had already gleaned, but hadn't had time to organize into an article. I'm going to post it in small bites so as not to overwhelm the busy and distracted, but the whole article is at this site:

http://www.endicott-studio.com/jMA03Summer/theMermaid.html

Part I
Recently, as I was waiting in line at the local Starbucks, I overheard two customers arguing about the Starbucks' logo. Is it a siren or a mermaid? The current logo doesn't give enough visual information, as one customer pointed out, but the original logo was a creature with the upper half of a woman and a split fish tail - a mermaid by his reckoning. The other customer pointed out that Starbucks refers to the image as a siren. Could they be wrong about their own corporate logo? The argument was lively enough to perk the interest of other customers, and soon various bits of interesting information came up, including reference to an online debate about the nature of mermaid sexuality and, specifically, regarding the reproductive organs of Disney's Ariel. I, myself, did not join in this debate but merely kept within earshot, considering the price of a latte well worth this synchronistic field research.

As some readers may know, Starbucks had to change their corporate logo because some consumers found the suggestive split tail of their topless siren too lurid and sexually suggestive. A simplified logo was introduced, hiding the siren's breasts under waves of hair, and that in turn was cropped and enlarged so the split in the siren's tail would no longer show. The only indication now that the female icon is a sea creature is in the wavy lines, which originally were part of the representation of the two tails. And yes, although the image is that of a split-tailed sea creature, it is a siren. More specifically, it is a double-tailed siren, a baubo siren, which The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects points out, is "a cross between a mermaid and a sheila-na-gig" and is found as a decorative motif in many European churches and cathedrals. "Her suggestive pose, like that of the sheila-na-gig, referred to female sexual mysteries in particular."

More later

In lakeside leafy groves a friar
Escaped the world; out there he passed
His summer days in constant prayer,
Deep studies and eternal fast.
Already with a humble shovel
The elder dug himself a grave;
And calling saints to bless his hovel,
Death, nothing other, did he crave.

So once upon a falling night he
Bowed down beside his droopy shack
And meekly prayed to the Almighty.
The grove was turning slowly black;
Above the lake a mist was lifting;
Through milky clouds across the sky
The ruddy moon was softly drifting,
When water drew the friar's eye...

He looks there, puzzled, full of trouble,
A fear he cannot quite explain,
And sees: the waves begin to bubble
And suddenly grow calm again.
Then -- white as first snow in the highlands,
Light-footed as nocturnal shade,
There comes ashore and sits in silence
Upon the bank a naked maid.

She eyes the monk and brushes gently
Her hair and water off her arms.
He shakes with fear and looks intently
At her and at her lovely charms.
With eager hands she waves and beckons,
Nods quickly, smiling from afar,
Then -- shoots within two flashing seconds
Into still water like a star.

The glum old man slept not an instant
All night, all day not once he prayed:
Before his eyes still hung and glistened
The wondrous girl's persistent shade...
The grove puts on the gown of nightfall;
The moon walks on the cloudy floor;
And there's the maiden, pale, delightful,
Reclining on the spellbound shore.

She looks at him, her hair she brushes,
Nods, sends him kisses drolly wild,
Plays with the waves -- caresses, splashes, --
Now laughs, now whimpers like a child,
Moans tenderly, calls louder, louder...
"Come, monk, come, monk! To me, to me!.."
Then -- vanishes in limpid water...
And all is silent instantly...

On the third day the ardent hermit
Was sitting by the shore, in love,
Awaiting the enticing mermaid,
As shade was lying on the grove...
Dark ceded to the sun's emergence;
By then the monk had disappeared,
No one knew where, and only urchins,
While swimming, saw a hoary beard.

The image of the Mermaid, the sea-swelling half-woman, half-fish, has been an endearing and popular one; each age had invested this enchanting creature with new shades of meaning and new elements in her myth.

Although her male counterpart, the merman, had his place also in the collective consciousness, the female of the species with her special feminine symbolism, is far more often represented; it almost seems as though the male version fundamentally exists because he logically must in order to facilitate continuation of their race. However, despite this, the first representation of the half-human, half-fish hybrid was a male; the sea-god Oannes, the 'great fish of the ocean', who was also the sun-god, rising out of the sea each day and disappearing back under the waves each night.

Oannes was worshipped by the Babylonians around 5000BCE. Early images of Oannes show him as a man wrapped in a fish cloak, but later the image evolved into the half-man, half-fish form in which he became more widely known. A civilizing force for the good, and light and life to his people, Oannes represented the positive values connected with the sea.

Oannes' goddess counterpoint was Atargatis (or, Atergatis, or in Greece, Derketo) a Semetic moon goddess who became the first official mermaid, being depicted with a fish's tail; fish were sacred to her. She and Oannes were said to be the parents of the legendary Semiramis, an historical queen of Babylon. Atargartis was an important fertility goddess, also representing the darker, night forces of love and their potentially destructive power. As Dea Syria, her cult reached as far as Britain; the migration of the ubiquitous mermaid had begun.

Later this goddess became identified with Aphrodite, who was born from the sea, and retained close connections with it, but in fully human form again; her fish attributes were transferred to her escorts the Tritons, and more rarely, the female Tritonids. Aphrodite was also a fertility goddess, and goddess of fair sailing, her companion the sacred dolphin. Many of the symbols associated with Aphrodite, subsequently the Roman Venus, have been retained in the mermaid myth. Her mirror, later a symbol of her vanity, originally represented the planet Venus in astrological tradition.

Her abundant, flowing hair, symbolizing an abundant love potential, was also an attribute of Venus in her role as fertility goddess. Her comb, necessary to keep all that hair in order, carried sexual connotations for the Greeks, as their words for comb, kteis and pecten, also signified the female vulva. Thus the mermaid is the surviving aspect of the old goddesses, particularly as the link between passion and destruction.

How did one goddess then become a multitude, a whole race of sea-people? The Greeks were a great sea faring people and obviously aware of the abundance of all life in the oceans. The incestuous union of brother and sister Oceanus and Tethys bore eloquent testimony to the legendary fertility of the sea; they produced 300 sea-nymphs called Oceanids, along with much other issue. Among these were Metis, mother of Athene by Zeus; Euromyne, who was represented as a mermaid in a statue at Phigalia; and Doris, who became the wife of another sea-god, Nereus. These two then produced 50 more sea-nymphs known as Nereids. Among these were Thetis, mother of Achilleus, and Amphitrite, who became the wife of the later sea-god Poseidon, and bore the race of Tritons, already mentioned in connection with Venus.

Nereids had become synonymous with mermaids by the time of Pliny (80 CE) and the Tritons the originators of the mermen. The original sea-gods were Wise Old Men of the Sea in keeping with the tradition begun by Oannes, but the Tritons were a lustful and rapacious lot, fond of assaulting unwary sea-nymphs and human women alike, doubtless as a result of their association with Venus.

The Nereids on the other hand were protective of sailors, and reserved their beautiful singing voices to entertain their father, unlike the dangerous Sirens who ensnared sailors with their enchanting voices and lured them to watery deaths. The Sirens were originally bird-women related to the Egyptian Ra, or soul birds, demons of death sent to catch souls. But the Sirens eventually became synonymous with mermaids; thus the mermaids acquired their unpleasant reputation for drowning sailors. This evil aspect can also be traced to a certain degree as stemming from Greek sea-monster propaganda, promoting a fearful image of the sea to discourage commercial rivals in shipping and colonization.

Whilst the Sirens tempted Odysseus with supreme knowledge, a god-like attribute, later the emphasis shifted to worldly temptation. Thus the mermaid/siren symbol was used by the Mediaeval Church as embodying the lure of fleshy pleasures to be shunned by the God-fearing. The mermaid became a victim of the repressive sexual attitudes of the Christian Church. Mermaid carvings figured prominently in church decorations in the Middle Ages, to symbolically serve as a vivid reminder of the fatal temptations of the flesh. These rapacious soul-eaters (the legacy of the bird-sirens) were of course not considered to have souls of their own. Thus the legends of the more highly-principled mermaids, anxious to acquire souls, arose.

Apparently one method for a mermaid to gain a soul was to marry a human being; the best known form of this legend is Hans Christian Anderson's 'Little Mermaid', recently popularized once again, and sanitized of the darker aspects of the legend, by the Disney Studios. But similar legends abound in the folklore of many countries. Celtic mythology included the sanctified Liban, a young woman drowned and transformed into a mermaid, who after 500 years enlisted the aid of the Irish St. Comgall to save her soul; also the Mermaid of Iona who wept many bitter tears over her inability to leave her ocean home to gain her promised soul. St. Patrick allegedly had a custom of transforming pagan women into mermaids, adding to the marine population in Ireland.

France has the legends of Melusine and Undine, both water-spirits who married noblemen. These mixed marriages in legend almost invariably fail miserably, with the unhappy mermaid ultimately unable to abandon her ocean element.

In Germany on the Rhine River they had their Lorelei or Nix, a beautiful blonde siren who sat on a cliff luring boatmen to their deaths with her songs, in traditional style.

There are the 'morgens' of Brittany, seemingly descendants of Morgan Le Fay, the sorceress of Arthurian legend. These creature lure all who come too near, down to their gold and crystal underwater palaces.

In Norway the 'havfrau' portends imminent disaster if sighted sitting on the surface of the water combing her long golden hair with a golden comb.

The Japanese have their mermaids known as Ningyo. In fact the mermaid archetype is so widespread among cultures that one may conclude it is very ancient, and fulfills a particular need in the human collective consciousness. The mermaid in our culture is the most persistent and pervasive symbol of the old Goddess energy that represents women, particularly the mysterious, life-generating element. The Christian Church, in promoting the ideas that mermaids

a) were dangerous temptresses and

b) had no souls of their own,

was actually stating deeply-held beliefs about all women, much as in the case of the witchcraze, when harmless old women were put to death by burning or hanging for practicing traditional herb-lore; this being the province of women it was destroyed by the Church in support of male domination.

This beautiful, helpful and compellingly attractive goddess-mermaid has been stripped of all her spiritual qualities; hence the stories involving the mermaid's soul could never end happily. They emphasized the supposed faithlessness and inconstancy of women, the danger of their attraction, and the unlikelihood of their gaining humanity.

In Elizabethan times the mermaid was used as a symbol of prostitution, and thus popularly applied to Mary Queen of Scots, as Queen Elizabeth's hated rival. Shakespeare, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, included these lines supposedly referring to Mary, five years after her execution:

'Thou rememberest

Since once I sat upon a promontory,

And heard a mermaid on a Dolphin's back

Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,

That the rude sea grew civil at her song;

And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,

To hear the sea-maid's music.'

The 'mermaid', 'sea-maid' meaning Mary; a dolphins back', she married the Dauphin of France; 'the rude sea', the Scotch rebels; 'certain stars' referring to the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland and the Duke of Norfolk; 'shot madly from their spheres', revolted from Queen Elizabeth, enchanted by Mary's feminine qualities.

These lines may been disguised flattery; but it seems unlikely since Mary was dead, and also due to the prostitution symbolism of the mermaid at the time. More likely it was directed at Elizabeth, Shakespeare's patroness, in the sense of censuring the behaviour of her rebel nobles. The mermaid was a popular poetic and allegorical symbol in Elizabethan theatre.

In our own times the mermaid-symbol has been completely trivialized; stripped of her power to frighten or impress, all deeper meanings forgotten. Although just a cute toy for little girls, the persistence of this creature, despite her biological unlikelihood, is interesting. My personal favourite theory is based on Desmond Morris' suggestion in 'The Naked Ape', that possibly the human species spent some time living in the ocean at the time of the separation from our closest relatives, the great apes. This could explain some of the obvious differences between human beings and other apes, i.e. relative hairlessness, upright stance (both for streamlining) freeing the hands for manipulation, protruding noses, and the fact that the human, alone among the great apes, actually enjoys immersing in water and seeks it out for pleasure. Could the mermaid also be a symbol of our affinity with the sea, gained in this way?



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This article was originally located at: http://www.newage.com.au/panthology/mermaid.html. It is now a broken link. I found the article a few years ago & printed it out. I retyped it to place here since it fits nicely and I haven't had the time to write my own.

1. "Triquetra (IPA: /tɹaɪ'kwεtɹə/) is a word derived from the Latin tri- ("three") and quetrus ("cornered"). Its original meaning was simply "triangle" and it has been used to refer to various three-cornered shapes. Nowadays, it has come to refer exclusively to a certain more complicated shape formed of three vesicae piscis, sometimes with an added circle in or around it."

2. "The Triquetra symbol right is actually composed of three Vesica Piscii, the holy symbol of the Pythagorean Christos. It is composed of three ‘almond-shaped’ icthyi, each with a height to width ratio of 1.73205, which is the square root of three. This ratio gave rise to the Divine number 153 (the complete mathematical ratio being 265:153, the ratio of whole numbers under 1000, which approximated the square root of 3.) 153 is the number of fish Jesus caught in the Gospel of John 21:11. When one considers that there are three Vesica Piscii in the Triquetra, the following calculation has surprising results:
153 x 3 = 459
4 + 5 + 9 = 18
1 + 8 = 9 "

3. "The Vesica piscis has been the subject of mystical speculation at several periods of history, perhaps first among the Pythagoreans, who considered it a holy figure. The mathematical ratio of its width (measured to the endpoints of the "body", not including the "tail") to its height was reportedly believed by them to be 265:153. This ratio, equal to 1.73203, was thought of as a holy number, called the measure of the fish. The geometric ratio of these dimensions is actually the square root of 3, or 1.73205... (since if you draw straight lines connecting the centers of the two circles with each other, and with the two points where the circles intersect, then you get two equilateral triangles joined along an edge, as shown in light red in the diagram). The fraction 265:153 is a ratio of whole numbers under 1000 which approximates the square root of 3 (though 362:209 and 989:571 are actually closer approximations). The number 153 appears in the Gospel of John as the exact number of fish Jesus caused to be caught in a miraculous catch of fish, which is thought by some to be a coded reference to Pythagorean beliefs."


4. Ichthys was the offspring son of the ancient sea goddess Atargatis, and was known in various mythic systems as Tirgata, Aphrodite, Pelagia or Delphine. The word also meant "womb" and "dolphin" in some tongues, and representations of this appeared in the depiction of mermaids. The fish is also a central element in other stories, including the Goddess of Ephesus (who has a fish amulet covering her genital region), as well as the tale of the fish that swallowed the penis of Osiris, and was also considered a symbol of the vulva of Isis.
Along with being a generative and reproductive spirit in mythology, the fish also has been identified in certain cultures with reincarnation and the life force. Sir James George Frazer noted in his work, "Adonis, Attis, Osiris: Studies in the History of Oriental Religion" (Part Four of his larger work, "The Golden Bough") that among one group in India, the fish was believed to house a deceased soul, and that as part of a fertility ritual specific fish is eaten in the belief that it will be reincarnated in a newborn child.
Possibly before Christianity, the fish symbol was known as "the Great Mother," a pointed oval sign, the "vesica piscis" or Vessel of the Fish. Also, in ancient Greek, "fish" and "womb" were denoted by the same word ("delphos"). Its link to fertility, birth, feminine sexuality and the natural force of women was acknowledged also by the Celts, as well as pagan cultures throughout northern Europe. Eleanor Gaddon traces a "Cult of the Fish Mother" as far back as the hunting and fishing people of the Danube River Basin in the sixth millennium B.C.E. Over fifty shrines have been found throughout the region which depict a fishlike deity, a female creature who "incorporates aspects of an egg, a fish and a woman which could have been a primeval creator or a mythical ancestress..." The "Great Goddess" was portrayed elsewhere with pendulous breasts, accentuated buttocks and a conspicuous vaginal orifice, the upright "vesica piscis" which Christians later adopted and rotated 90-degrees to serve as their symbol.
There are several hypotheses as to why the fish was chosen. The most probable is that it is a reference to the scripture in which Jesus miraculuously feeds 5000 people with fish and bread (Matthew 14:15-21, Luke 9:12-17, and John 6:4-13). The ichthys also may relate to Jesus as a "fisher of men," or an acronym of the Greek letters ΙΧΘΥΣ (Iota Chi Theta Ypsilon Sigma) to the statement of Christian faith "Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς Θεοῦ Υἱὸς Σωτήρ" (Iēsous Christos Theou Hyios Soter: "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior").
Though there is no direct evidence, the ichthys may simply be an adaptation of the mystic/mathematical symbol known as the Vesica Piscis. The length-height ratio of the vesica piscis, as expressed by the mystic and mathematician Pythagoras, is 153:265, a mystical number known as "the measure of the fish." In the biblical story in which Jesus aids his disciples to catch fish, Jesus catches exactly 153 fish.
The name ichthys was also associated with Adonis, the central character in one of the 1st-century mystery religions (specifically, the version used in Syria). Like many other mystery religions, the religion of Adonis adopted certain mystic aspects of Greek philosophy, which may have included the Vesica Piscis of Pythagoras.
In astrology, an astrological age is determined by the constellation in which the Sun appears during the vernal equinox. Since each sign on the zodiac belt shifts an average of one degree in 70 years, while 360/12 = 30, each astrological age lasts 70 x 30 = 2,100 years. The astrological age of Pisces coincided with the birth of Jesus Christ — approximately 2,000 years ago.
Babylonian mythology tells of two fishes that pushed ashore a giant egg, from which emerged the fertility corn-goddess Atargatis and her lover-son Ichthys, who dies and is reborn annually. The myth of Ichthys and the sign Pisces later became connected with Christianity. Directly across the zodiac from Pisces lies the sign of Virgo, symbolizing the virgin grain goddess of ancient Greece and also connected with the Virgin Mary of Christian mythology, whose birthday is liturgically celebrated on September 8, when the sun crosses the midpoint of the sign Virgo.

5. "The fish symbol was often drawn by overlapping two very thin crescent moons. One represented the crescent shortly before the new moon; the other shortly after, when the moon is just visible. The Moon is the heavenly body that has long been associated with the Goddess, just as the sun is a symbol of the God. The link between the Goddess and fish was found in various areas of the ancient world: for instance, in China, Great Mother Kwan-yin often portrayed in the shape of a fish; in India, the Goddess Kali was called the "fish-eyed one"; in Egypt, Isis was called the Great Fish of the Abyss; in Greece the Greek word "delphos" meant both fish and womb (the word is derived from the location of the ancient Oracle at Delphi who worshipped the original fish goddess, Themis. The later fish Goddess, Aphrodite Salacia, was worshipped by her followers on her sacred day, Friday. They ate fish and engaging in orgies. In later centuries, the Christian church adsorbed this tradition by requiring the faithful to eat fish on Friday.) In ancient Rome Friday is called "dies veneris", or Day of Venus, the Pagan Goddess of Love; in Scandinavia, the Great Goddess was named Freya; fish were eaten in her honour; in the Middle East, the Great Goddess of Ephesus was portrayed as a woman with a fish amulet over her genitals."

6. "In the recitation of the Rosary, corresponding to the recitation of three beads, the prayer of the Ave Maria is repeated 153 times."
There is way to much on the number 153 to sumarize here but this link (6) can tell you more if you are interested. 153 is also used in the construction of the Great Pyramid (pyre - amid, being fire within).

I think it is safe to say the three fish is a uniquely feminine form of the trinity. Related as it is to the dying and resurecting Gods, and their mothers or lovers, we see also the implication of both reincarnation and spiritual rebirth, the immortality of spirit, and spiritual evolution. When it also includes a circle we have a slightly different meaning in that the circle represents the void from which the three are springing into life. The three that come from the one are God the daughter, God the traveler into time and space, and the soulmate... perhaps.



1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triquetra
2. http://makeashorterlink.com/?A14F22EAC
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vesica_piscis
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichthys
5. http://www.sociumas.lt/Eng/Nr15/simboliai.asp
6. http://www.oricom.ca/sdesr/nu153.htm

In the fairy tale I posted earlier today are easily seen the markers of the worship of Artemis. She was worshipped as a ‘mother bear’, her heavenly seat being the constellation of Ursa Major. Her priestesses were addressed with the title Melissa, which means “bee”, and her community was the "hive”. Many sources identify the lion as one of her oldest animal totems. Homer (Il. 485) called Artemis a "lion unto women" because she can bring them sudden and painless death. And finally the goddess is depicted as fishtailed at Ascalon, Phigalia, Crabos, Aegina, Cephallenia, and elsewhere.

If these associations don’t convince, recall that the Princess of the story abhored men, which can likewise be said of most men for Artemis, the sworn maiden goddess, as well.

The understanding here pertains to spiritual evolution, because the four forms of the goddess match the four seasons of both human life, and what those season represent. Lions were thought to be born dead, and given life when their parent licked them. Thus they are symbolic of spiritual rebirth. Bears were thought to give shape to their young by licking them (the young being thought to be born shapless lumps), thus they represent the formation of the reborn self of the initiate; the youth of the initiate. The bee's springtime emergence from the hive is a representation of the soul’s emergence from the tomb; and many early people believed that human souls assumed the forms of bees in order to escape their own corpses through their skin. This associates the bee with the end of life, and the very beginning of it. Furthermore bees were believed to be parthenogenetic (formed from nonsexual activity), and so became symbols of chastity, and virginity. Since bees supposedly had thousands of "virgin births" and since honey was used as a preservative, we can see that the implied symbolism is spiritual in nature and pertains to survival of the soul beyond the grave. The mermaid is another chaste goddess form. With a fish tail she can’t help but be chaste. She is the ruler of the underworld, represented by the ocean, the ‘watery abyss’, and as such is ruler of the dead. This is understood to be the rest period of winter, the ritual ‘death’ of the initiate to worldly pleasure, and that time in the cycle of living when our experiences are reviewed and a new model of life is constructed, building on the wisdom of the past experiences. Then as a bee, the Prince is rescued from death and claims his kingdom.

When he is returned to the living he must face a rival: The Red Knight, who is the Prince’s tannest, his unworthy self, or human self. He is Actaeon, or Orion. The Red Knight is soon proven unworthy and hung, recalling that Artemis is also a tree goddess, who once received sacrifices of dolls hung in her sacred groves.

I find all this fascinating because Western society lost so much pagan lore during the Christian era, but with a little insight and research I, and people like me, are finding clues, like this story, hidden away and managing to have survived. In this story I find more reason to believe Robert Graves was correct in assigning the love chase, and its ritual transformations, to Artemis.

Long, long ago, there lived a king who ruled over a country by the sea. When he had been married about a year, some of his subjects, inhabiting a distant group of islands, revolted against his laws, and it became needful for him to leave his wife and go in person to settle their disputes. The queen feared that some ill would come of it, and implored him to stay at home, but he told her that nobody could do his work for him, and the next morning the sails were spread, and the king started on his voyage.

The vessel had not gone very far when she ran upon a rock, and stuck so fast in a cleft that the strength of the whole crew could not get her off again. To make matters worse, the wind was rising too, and it was quite plain that in a few hours the ship would be dashed to pieces and everybody would be drowned, when suddenly the form of a mermaid was seen dancing on the waves which threatened every moment to overwhelm them.

'There is only one way to free yourselves,' she said to the king, bobbing up and down in the water as she spoke, 'and that is to give me your solemn word that you will deliver to me the first child that is born to you.'

The king hesitated at this proposal. He hoped that some day he might have children in his home, and the thought that he must yield up the heir to his crown was very bitter to him; but just then a huge wave broke with great force on the ship's side, and his men fell on their knees and entreated him to save them.

So he promised, and this time a wave lifted the vessel clean off the rocks, and she was in the open sea once more.

The affairs of the islands took longer to settle than the king had expected, and some months passed away before he returned to his palace. In his absence a son had been born to him, and so great was his joy that he quite forgot the mermaid and the price he had paid for the safety of his ship. But as the years went on, and the baby grew into a fine big boy, the remembrance of it came back, and one day he told the queen the whole story. From that moment the happiness of both their lives was ruined. Every night they went to bed wondering if they should find his room empty in the morning, and every day they kept him by their sides, expecting him to be snatched away before their very eyes.

At last the king felt that this state of things could not continue, and he said to his wife:

'After all, the most foolish thing in the world one can do is to keep the boy here in exactly the place in which the mermaid will seek him. Let us give him food and send him on his travels, and perhaps, if the mermaid ever blocs come to seek him, she may be content with some other child.' And the queen agreed that his plan seemed the wisest.

So the boy was called, and his father told him the story of the voyage, as he had told his mother before him. The prince listened eagerly, and was delighted to think that he was to go away all by himself to see the world, and was not in the least frightened; for though he was now sixteen, he had scarcely been
allowed to walk alone beyond the palace gardens. He began busily to make his preparations, and took off his smart velvet coat, putting on instead one of green cloth, while he refused a beautiful bag which the queen offered him to hold his food, and slung a leather knapsack over his shoulders instead, just as he
had seen other travellers do. Then he bade farewell to his parents and went his way.

All through the day he walked, watching with interest the strange birds and animals that darted across his path in the forest or peeped at him from behind a bush. But as evening drew on hebecame tired, and looked about as he walked for some place where he could sleep. At length he reached a soft mossy bank under a tree, and was just about to stretch himself out on it, when a fearful roar made him start and tremble all over. In another moment something passed swiftly through the air and a lion stood before him.

'What are you doing here?' asked the lion, his eyes glaring fiercely at the boy.

'I am flying from the mermaid,' the prince answered, in a quaking voice.

'Give me some food then,' said the lion, 'it is past my supper time, and I am very hungry.'

The boy was so thankful that the lion did not want to eat him, that he gladly picked up his knapsack which lay on the ground, and held out some bread and a flask of wine.

'I feel better now,' said the lion when he had done, 'so now I shall go to sleep on this nice soft moss, and if you like you can lie down beside me.' So the boy and the lion slept soundly side by side, till the sun rose.

'I must be off now,' remarked the lion, shaking the boy as he spoke; 'but cut off the tip of my ear, and keep it carefully, and if you are in any danger just wish yourself a lion and you will become one on the spot. One good turn deserves another, you know.'

The prince thanked him for his kindness, and did as he was bid, and the two then bade each other farewell.

'I wonder how it feels to be a lion,' thought the boy, after he had gone a little way; and he took out the tip of the ear from the breast of his jacket and wished with all his might. In an instant his head had swollen to several times its usual size, and his neck seemed very hot and heavy; and, somehow, his hands became paws, and his skin grew hairy and yellow. But what pleased him most was his long tail with a tuft at the end, which he lashed and switched proudly. 'I like being a lion very much,' he said to himself, and trotted gaily along the road.

After a while, however, he got tired of walking in this unaccustomed way--it made his back ache and his front paws felt sore. So he wished himself a boy again, and in the twinkling of an eye his tail disappeared and his head shrank, and the long thick mane became short and curly. Then he looked out for a
sleeping place, and found some dry ferns, which he gathered and heaped up.

But before he had time to close his eyes there was a great noise in the trees near by, as if a big heavy body was crashing through them. The boy rose and turned his head, and saw a huge black bear coming towards him.

'What are you doing here?' cried the bear.

'I am running away from the mermaid,' answered the boy; but the bear took no interest in the mermaid, and only said: 'I am hungry; give me something to eat.'

The knapsack was lying on the ground among the fern, but the prince picked it up, and, unfastening the strap, took out his second flask of wine and another loaf of bread. 'We will have
supper together,' he remarked politely; but the bear, who had never been taught manners, made no reply, and ate as fast as he could. When he had quite finished, he got up and stretched himself.

'You have got a comfortable-looking bed there,' he observed. 'I really think that, bad sleeper as I am, I might have a good night on it. I can manage to squeeze you in,' he added; 'you don't take up a great deal of room.' The boy was rather indignant at the bear's cool way of talking; but as he was too tired to gather more fern, they lay down side by side, and never stirred till sunrise next morning.

'I must go now,' said the bear, pulling the sleepy prince on to his feet; 'but first you shall cut off the tip of my ear, and when you are in any danger just wish yourself a bear and you will
become one. One good turn deserves another, you know.' And the boy did as he was bid, and he and the bear bade each other farewell.

'I wonder how it feels to be a bear,' thought he to himself when he had walked a little way; and he took out the tip from the breast of his coat and wished hard that he might become a bear. The next moment his body stretched out and thick black fur covered him all over. As before, his hands were changed into
paws, but when he tried to switch his tail he found to his disgust that it would not go any distance. 'Why it is hardly worth calling a tail!' said he. For the rest of the day he remained a bear and continued his journey, but as evening came on the bear-skin, which had been so useful when plunging through brambles in the forest, felt rather heavy, and he wished himself a boy again. He was too much exhausted to take the trouble of cutting any fern or seeking for moss, but just threw himself down
under a tree, when exactly above his head he heard a great buzzing as a bumble-bee alighted on a honeysuckle branch. 'What are you doing here?' asked the bee in a cross voice; 'at your age
you ought to be safe at home.'

'I am running away from the mermaid,' replied the boy; but the bee, like the lion and the bear, was one of those people who never listen to the answers to their questions, and only said: 'I am hungry. Give me something to eat.'

The boy took his last loaf and flask out of his knapsack and laid them on the ground, and they had supper together. 'Well, now I am going to sleep,' observed the bee when the last crumb was gone, 'but as you are not very big I can make room for you beside me,' and he curled up his wings, and tucked in his legs, and he and the prince both slept soundly till morning. Then the bee got up and carefully brushed every scrap of dust off his velvet coat and buzzed loudly in the boy's ear to waken him.

'Take a single hair from one of my wings,' said he, 'and if you are in danger just wish yourself a bee and you will become one. One good turn deserves another, so farewell, and thank you for your supper.' And the bee departed after the boy had pulled out the hair and wrapped it carefully in a leaf.

'It must feel quite different to be a bee from what it does to be a lion or bear,' thought the boy to himself when he had walked for an hour or two. 'I dare say I should get on a great deal faster,' so he pulled out his hair and wished himself a bee.

In a moment the strangest thing happened to him. All his limbs seemed to draw together, and his body to become very short and round; his head grew quite tiny, and instead of his white skin he was covered with the richest, softest velvet. Better than all, he had two lovely gauze wings which carried him the whole day without getting tired.

Late in the afternoon the boy fancied he saw a vast heap of stones a long way off, and he flew straight towards it. But when he reached the gates he saw that it was really a great town, so he wished himself back in his own shape and entered the city.

He found the palace doors wide open and went boldly into a sort of hall which was full of people, and where men and maids were gossiping together. He joined their talk and soon learned from them that the king had only one daughter who had such a hatred to men that she would never suffer one to enter her presence. Her father was in despair, and had had pictures painted of the handsomest princes of all the courts in the world, in the hope that she might fall in love with one of them; but it was no use; the princess would not even allow the pictures to be brought into her room.

'It is late,' remarked one of the women at last; 'I must go to my mistress.' And, turning to one of the lackeys, she bade him find a bed for the youth.

'It is not necessary,' answered the prince, 'this bench is good enough for me. I am used to nothing better.' And when the hall was empty he lay down for a few minutes. But as soon as everything was quiet in the palace he took out the hair and wished himself a bee, and in this shape he flew upstairs, past
the guards, and through the keyhole into the princess's chamber. Then he turned himself into a man again.

At this dreadful sight the princess, who was broad awake, began to scream loudly. 'A man! a man!' cried she; but when the guards rushed in there was only a bumble-bee buzzing about the room. They looked under the bed, and behind the curtains, and into the cupboards, then came to the conclusion that the princess had had a bad dream, and bowed themselves out. The door had scarcely closed on them than the bee disappeared, and a handsome youth stood in his place.

'I knew a man was hidden somewhere,' cried the princess, and screamed more loudly than before. Her shrieks brought back the guards, but though they looked in all kinds of impossible places no man was to be seen, and so they told the princess.

'He was here a moment ago--I saw him with my own eyes,' and the guards dared not contradict her, though they shook their heads and whispered to each other that the princess had gone mad on this subject, and saw a man in every table and chair. And they made up their minds that--let her scream as loudly as she might--they would take no notice.

Now the princess saw clearly what they were thinking, and that in future her guards would give her no help, and would perhaps, besides, tell some stories about her to the king, who would shut her up in a lonely tower and prevent her walking in the gardens among her birds and flowers. So when, for the third time, she beheld the prince standing before her, she did not scream but sat up in bed gazing at him in silent terror.

'Do not be afraid,' he said, 'I shall not hurt you'; and he began to praise her gardens, of which he had heard the servants speak, and the birds and flowers which she loved, till the princess's anger softened, and she answered him with gentle words. Indeed, they soon became so friendly that she vowed she would marry no one else, and confided to him that in three days her father would be off to the wars, leaving his sword in her room. If any man could find it and bring it to him he would receive her hand as a
reward. At this point a cock crew, and the youth jumped up hastily saying: 'Of course I shall ride with the king to the war, and if I do not return, take your violin every evening to the
seashore and play on it, so that the very sea-kobolds who live at the bottom of the ocean may hear it and come to you.'

Just as the princess had foretold, in three days the king set out for the war with a large following, and among them was the young prince, who had presented himself at court as a young noble in search of adventures. They had left the city many miles behind them, when the king suddenly discovered that he had forgotten his sword, and though all his attendants instantly offered theirs, he declared that he could fight with none but his own.

'The first man who brings it to me from my daughter's room,' cried he, 'shall not only have her to wife, but after my death shall reign in my stead.'

At this the Red Knight, the young prince, and several more turned their horses to ride as fast as the wind back to the palace. But suddenly a better plan entered the prince's head, and, letting the others pass him, he took his precious parcel from his breast and wished himself a lion. Then on he bounded, uttering such dreadful roars that the horses were frightened and grew unmanageable, and he easily outstripped them, and soon reached the gates of the palace. Here he hastily changed himself into a
bee, and flew straight into the princess's room, where he became a man again. She showed him where the sword hung concealed behind a curtain, and he took it down, saying as he did so: 'Be sure not to forget what you have promised to do.'

The princess made no reply, but smiled sweetly, and slipping a golden ring from her finger she broke it in two and held half out silently to the prince, while the other half she put in her own pocket. He kissed it, and ran down the stairs bearing the sword with him. Some way off he met the Red Knight and the rest, and the Red Knight at first tried to take the sword from him by force. But as the youth proved too strong for him, he gave it up, and resolved to wait for a better opportunity.

This soon came, for the day was hot and the prince was thirsty. Perceiving a little stream that ran into the sea, he turned aside, and, unbuckling the sword, flung himself on the ground for a long drink. Unluckily, the mermaid happened at that moment to be floating on the water not very far off, and knew he was the boy who had been given her before he was born. So she floated gently in to where he was lying, she seized him by the arm, and the waves closed over them both. Hardly had they disappeared, when the Red Knight stole cautiously up, and could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the king's sword on the bank. He wondered what had become of the youth, who an hour before had guarded his treasure so fiercely; but, after all, that was no affair of his! So, fastening the sword to his belt, he carried it to the king.

The war was soon over, and the king returned to his people, who welcomed him with shouts of joy. But when the princess from her window saw that her betrothed was not among the attendants riding behind her father, her heart sank, for she knew that some evil must have befallen him. And she feared the Red Knight. She had long ago learned how clever and how wicked he was, and something whispered to her that it was he who would gain the credit of having carried back the sword, and would claim her as his bride,
though he had never even entered her chamber. And she could do nothing; for although the king loved her, he never let her stand in the way of his plans.

The poor princess was only too right, and everything came to pass exactly as she had foreseen it. The king told her that the Red Knight had won her fairly, and that the wedding would take place next day, and there would be a great feast after it.

In those days feasts were much longer and more splendid than they are now; and it was growing dark when the princess, tired out with all she had gone through, stole up to her own room for a little quiet. But the moon was shining so brightly over the sea that it seemed to draw her towards it, and taking her violin
under her arm, she crept down to the shore.

'Listen! listen! said the mermaid to the prince, who was lying stretched on a bed of seaweeds at the bottom of the sea. 'Listen! that is your old love playing, for mermaids know everything that happens upon earth.'

'I hear nothing,' answered the youth, who did not look happy. 'Take me up higher, where the sounds can reach me.'

So the mermaid took him on her shoulders and bore him up midway to the surface. 'Can you hear now?' she asked.

'No,' answered the prince, 'I hear nothing but the water rushing; I must go higher still.'

Then the mermaid carried him to the very top. 'You must surely be able to hear now?' said she.

'Nothing but the water,' repeated the youth. So she took him right to the land.

'At any rate you can hear now?' she said again.

'The water is still rushing in my ears,' answered he; ' but wait a little, that will soon pass off.' And as he spoke he put his hand into his breast, and seizing the hair wished himself a bee,
and flew straight into the pocket of the princess. The mermaid looked in vain for him, and coated all night upon the sea; but he never came back, and never more did he gladden her eyes. But the princess felt that something strange was about her, though she knew not what, and returned quickly to the palace, where the young man at once resumed his own shape. Oh, what joy filled her heart at the sight of him! But there was no time to be lost, and she led him right into the hall, where the king and his nobles were still sitting at the feast. 'Here is a man who boasts that he can do wonderful tricks,' said she, ' better even than the Red Knight's! That cannot be true, of course, but it might be well to give this impostor a lesson. He pretends, for instance, that he can turn himself into a lion; but that I do not believe. I know that you have studied the art of magic,' she went on, turning to the Red Knight, 'so suppose you just show him how it is done, and bring shame upon him.'

Now the Red Knight had never opened a book of magic in his life; but he was accustomed to think that he could do everything better than other people without any teaching at all. So he turned and twisted himself about, and bellowed and made faces; but he did not become a lion for all that.

'Well, perhaps it is very difficult to change into a lion. Make yourself a bear,' said the princess. But the Red Knight found it no easier to become a bear than a lion.

'Try a bee,' suggested she. 'I have always read that anyone who can do magic at all can do that.' And the old knight buzzed and hummed, but he remained a man and not a bee.

'Now it is your turn,' said the princess to the youth. 'Let us see if you can change yourself into a lion.' And in a moment such a fierce creature stood before them, that all the guests rushed out of the hall, treading each other underfoot in their fright. The lion sprang at the Red Knight, and would have torn him in pieces had not the princess held him back, and bidden him to change himself into a man again. And in a second a man took the place of the lion.

'Now become a bear,' said she; and a bear advanced panting and stretching out his arms to the Red Knight, who shrank behind the princess.

By this time some of the guests had regained their courage, and returned as far as the door, thinking that if it was safe for the princess perhaps it was safe for them. The king, who was braver than they, and felt it needful to set them a good example besides, had never left his seat, and when at a new command of the princess the bear once more turned into a man, he was silent from astonishment, and a suspicion of the truth began to dawn on him. 'Was it he who fetched the sword?' asked the king.

'Yes, it was,' answered the princess; and she told him the whole story, and how she had broken her gold ring and given him half of it. And the prince took out his half of the ring, and the princess took out hers, and they fitted exactly. Next day the Red Knight was hanged, as he richly deserved, and there was a new marriage feast for the prince and princess.

[Lapplandische Mahrchen.]

Shall I part my hair? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk along the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaweed on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with sea-weed of red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Since I once sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song.
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music.
And the imperial votaress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

- William Shakespeare

Little John Bottlejohn lived on the hill,
and a blithe little man was he.
And he won the heart of a pretty mermaid
Who lived in the deep blue sea.
And every evening she used to sit
And sing by the rocks of the sea,
"Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn,
Won't you come out to me?"
Little John Bottlejohn heard her song,
And he opened his little door,
And he hopped and he skipped,
and he skipped and he hopped,
Until he came down to the shore.
And there on the rocks sat the little mermaid,
And still she was singing so free,
"Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn,
Won't you come out to me?"
Little John Bottlejohn made a bow,
And the mermaid, she made one too;
And she said, "Oh! I never saw anyone half
So perfectly sweet as you!
In my lovely home 'neath the ocean foam,
How happy we both might be!
Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn,
Won't you come down with me?"
Little John Bottlejohn said, "Oh yes!
I'll willingly go with you,
And I never shall quail at the sight of your tail,
For perhaps I may grow one, too."
So he took her hand, and he left the land,
And plunged in the foaming main.
And little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn,
Never was seen again.
- LAURA E. RICHARDS

When Sam goes back in memory,
It is to where the sea
Breaks on the shingle, emerald-green,
In white foam, endlessly;
He says--with small brown eyes on mine-
"I used to keep awake,
And lean from my window in the moon,
Watching those billows break.
And half a million tiny hands,
And eyes, like sparks of frost,
Would dance and come tumbling into the moon,
On every breaker tossed.
And all across from star to star,
I've seen the watery sea,
With not a single ship in sight,
Just ocean there, and me;
And heard my father snore. And once,
As sure as I'm alive,
Out of those wallowing, moon-flecked waves
I saw a mermaid dive;
Head and shoulders above the wave,
Plain as I now see you,
Combing her hair, now back, now front,
Her two eyes peeping through;
Calling me, (Sam!--quietlike--(Sam! . .
But me . . . I never went,
Making believe I kind of thought
'Twas some one else she meant ...
Wonderful lovely there she sat,
Singing the night away,
All in the solitudinous sea
Of that there lonely bay.
"P'raps," and he'd smooth his hairless mouth,
"P'raps, if 'twere now, my son,
P'raps, if I heard a voice say, 'Sam!'...
Morning would find me gone."
- WALTER DE LA MARE