Читать книгу The Fundamental Principles of Old and New World Civilizations - Zelia Nuttall - Страница 5

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One evening, in February, 1898, I left my desk and, stepping to the window, looked out at Polaris and the circumpolar region of the sky, with a newly awakened and eager interest.

For thirteen years I had been studying and collecting material with the hope of obtaining some understanding of the calendar, religion and cosmogony of the ancient Mexicans, but had hitherto purposely refrained from formulating or expressing any conclusions on the latter subjects having felt unable to extract a clear and satisfactory understanding of the native beliefs from the chaotic mass of accumulated data under which they lay like the ruin of an ancient temple. Though frequently discouraged, I had, however, never ceased to pursue my research and to note carefully the slightest indication or suggestion which might prove of ultimate value. Becoming utterly absorbed in the collection of such notes, I found no time to publish anything during the past four years, though realizing, with regret, that those interested in my work might be disappointed at my delay in issuing the papers announced, in 1894, as speedily forthcoming. Slowly but steadily, however, I was gaining ground. Various excursions along new lines of research increased my experience and, in crossing and re-crossing the field of ancient Mexico, I frequently had occasion to observe certain familiar landmarks, from a new point of view, and illuminated by rays of fresh light proceeding from recently acquired sources. It was remarkable how often facts, which had seemed so hopelessly complicated, finally appeared to be quite simple and comprehensible. This was noticeably the case with the Aztec deities which, for years, had seemed to me as numberless. After closely studying their respective symbols, attributes and names, during several consecutive months, and subjecting them to a final minute analysis, I found that their number dwindled in a remarkable way and also verified the truth of the statement made by the anonymous author of the Biblioteca Nazionale manuscript which I was editing, that [pg 008] the Mexicans painted one and the same god under a different aspect “with different colours,” according to the various names they gave him in each instance.

It was particularly interesting to find that, in assuming that certain names designated different native deities, the early Spanish writers had committed a mistake as great as though someone, reading the litany of the Virgin in a Catholic prayer-book, for the first time, inferred that it was a series of invocations addressed to distinct divinities, amongst whom figured the “morning star,” a “mirror of justice,” and a “mystical rose,” etc. An examination of the texts of several native prayers preserved, established that the Mexicans addressed their prayers to a supreme Creator and ruler, whom they termed “invisible, incomprehensible and impalpable,” and revered as “the father and mother of all.” Some of their so-called idols were, after all, either attempts to represent in objective form, the attributes of the divine power, the forces of nature, the elements, etc., or rebus figures. As these “gods” or “idols” are enumerated farther on and are exhaustively treated in my commentary of the Biblioteca Nazionale manuscript, now in press, it suffices for my present purpose merely to mention here that the most mysterious figure of Mexican cosmogony, Tezcatlipoca, whose symbolical name literally means “shining mirror,” proved to be identical with Mictlantecuhtli, the lord of the underworld, whose title may also be interpreted as “the ruler or regent of the North,” since Mictlampa is the name of this cardinal point.

The Codex Fuenleal (Anales del Museo Nacional, Mexico, tomo ii, p. 88) preserves an important myth relating how Tezcatlipoca, after having been the sun, was cast down from this supreme position by Huitzilopochtli, “descended to the water,” but had arisen again in the shape of an ocelot, and transformed himself into the constellation of Ursa Major.

According to Sahagun the native name of this star-group was Citlal-Colotl or “star scorpion.” Reference to Nahuatl dictionaries revealed that this insect had doubtlessly been named colotl on account of its habit of recurving its tail when enraged.

The Nahuatl verb coloa means, to bend over or twist something, the adjective coltic is applied to something bent over or recurved. The noun colotli, which is almost identical with colotl, means “the cross-beams, the mounting, branch or handle of a cross” (“armadura de manga de cruz.” See Molina's dictionary).

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The above facts show that the idea underlying the name for Ursa Major is primarily that of “something bent over or recurved.” It is obvious that the form of the constellation answers to this description. It is, moreover, extremely significant to find, in the Maya language also, a certain resemblance between the words for scorpion and for a cross. This, in Maya, is zin-che and that for a scorpion is zin-au. The above data justify the induction that the native conception of a cross was connected with the idea of its arms being bent over or recurved, as in the Mexican calendar-swastika.

It is important to find the scorpion figured as one of several symbols of Mictlantecuhtli, the lord of the North, in his sculptured effigy preserved at the National Museum of Mexico (fig. 19).

It is more significant that the verb coloa, besides meaning “to bend over or twist something,” also expressed the action “of describing or performing a circle by walking around something.” Now this is precisely what Tezcatlipoca (the Ursa Major) is represented as doing on page 77 of the B.N. manuscript, since he figures there, surrounded by a circle of footsteps. I could but note that this fact showed that the name of Colotl, applied to the constellation, was not incompatible with its identification with Tezcatlipoca. Once my attention had been drawn to the action of walking, performed by this god, I naturally considered, with fresh interest, the peculiar fact that he is usually represented with one foot only. The circumstances under which he had been deprived of this member are set forth in several of the Codices wherein we see that, after he “descended to the water,” he had an encounter with an alligator, who had viciously bitten off his foot and carried it away. (See Féjérvary Codex, pp. 3 and 74. Vatican, II, p. 74.) Pictures representing Tezcatlipoca, after this event, display the broken end of the tibia exposed and the transverse section of the bone forming a ring, usually painted either white or red. Special pains seem to have been taken to accentuate the hollowness of the bone ring, since its centre is usually painted blue, the symbolical color of air, and conventionalized puffs of breath or air are shown as issuing from it (fig. 1). In some cases, as on the sculptured monolith called “the Stone of Tizoc,” these symbols of breath, issuing from the broken tibia, are figured in such a way that modern writers, ignoring what they were meant to represent, were led to identify them as some animal's tail attached to the foot of the deity. The hollow circle and puffs of air, constantly associated [pg 010] with the god, frequently figure as his ear ornament when his broken tibia is concealed (fig. 2, no. 3). Besides certain fanciful interpretations which have been given to this symbol, it has been explained as being a hieroglyph conveying the name Tezcatlipoca, and consisting of an obsidian mirror=tezcatl, and smoke=poctli. A possible objection to this assertion might be that in Mexican pictography, the mirror is invariably represented as jet-black, in a white or red frame. In the Codex Telleriano Remensis, a combination of symbols (of water, fire and a serpent) are figured as issuing from the base of the bone (fig. 1, nos. 5, 6). Having taken particular pains to collect all representations of the footless god, I was specially interested in one (Féjérvary, p. 1) in which he is figured as standing on the cross-shaped symbol ollin, the accepted meaning of which is Four Movements. The most remarkable and puzzling picture I found, however, is that (fig. 1, no. 2) in which the jaws of a tecpatl, the symbol of the North, are represented as holding one of Tezcatlipoca's ankles in a tight grip and practically fastening him thus to the centre of a diagonal cross. In this and other pictures (Codex Féjérvary, 41, 43 and 96) it is obvious that the artists had endeavored to convey the idea of a person permanently attached to one spot by one foot. The only form of locomotion possible to him would be to describe a circle by hobbling on one foot around the other, which would serve as an axis or pivot. The association of this peculiarity with the symbols of the North impressed me deeply and involuntarily caused [pg 011] me to think of a title bestowed in the Codex Fuenleal upon the supreme divinity, namely, “The Wheel of the Winds;” as well as of an expression employed by Tezozomoc (Cronica, p. 574). Referring to the constellations revered by the natives, he mentions “the North and its wheel.”

Figure 1

Realizing that some definite and important meaning must underlie the remarkable representations of Tezcatlipoca, I resorted to all possible means to gain an understanding of them. Referring to Nahuatl dictionaries, I found a variety of synonymous names for a person who limped or was lame or maimed. Amongst them was Popoztequi from poztequi, the verb, “to break a leg.” Other names were xopuztequi, xotemol and Icxipuztequi (icxitl=foot). The latter name happened to be familiar to me, for the commentator of the Vatican Codex, Padre Rios, gives it as the name of a god and translates it as “the lame devil.” He records it immediately after Mictlantecuhtli, the lord of the North, and designates it as the name of one of the four principal and primitive gods of the Mexicans.

The commentator of the Telleriano-Remensis Codex, moreover, records that these four gods were “said to have been stars and had fallen from the heavens. At the present time there are stars in the firmament named after them” (Kingsborough, vol. v, pp. 132 and 162).

Other synonymous terms for lame persons were icxinecuiltic and xonecuiltic. Tzimpuztequi, on the other hand, besides meaning lame, also signified something crooked, bent or incurvated. The second name furnished me with an important clue, for Sahagun distinctly records that the native name for the constellation Ursa Minor was Xonecuilli and that it was figured as an S (Historia, 1. vii, cap. 3). Besides, the Academia MS. of his monumental work contains the native drawing of this star-group reproduced as fig. 16, no. 1. He also states that S-shaped loaves of bread named xonecuilli were made at a certain festival in honor of this constellation, while the B.N. MS. records that a peculiar recurved weapon, figured in the hands of deities, was named xonequitl (fig. 16, nos. 2 and 3).

The above data furnished me with indisputable evidence of the existence, in ancient Mexico, of a species of star cult connected with the circumpolar constellations and with Tezcatlipoca, the lord of the North, the central figure of the native cosmogony. It was puzzling to find this god connected not only with the Ursa Major but also with Ursa Minor, but an indication suggesting a possible [pg 012] explanation or reconciliation of these apparent inconsistencies is furnished by the descriptions of the strange ritual performance, which was annually repeated at the festival Tlacaxipehualiztli and was evidently the dramatization of a sacred myth.

As an illustration and a description of this rite are contained in the B.N. MS. and the subject is fully treated in my commentary, I shall but allude here to its salient features. It represented a mortal combat between a prisoner, attached by a short piece of cord to the centre of a large circular stone, and five warriors, who fought him singly. The fifth, who was masked as an ocelot and always obtained victory in the unequal contest, fought with his left hand, being “left-handed,” a peculiarity ascribed to Huitzilopochtli. It was he who subsequently wore the skin of the flayed victim, an action which obviously symbolized a metamorphosis. One point is obvious: this drama exhibits the victor as a warrior who was able to circumscribe the stone freely and was masked as an ocelot—Tezcatlipoca—the Ursa Major, but was endowed, at the same time, with the left-handedness identified with Huitzilopochtli. This mythical personage vanquishes and actually wears the skin of the man attached to the stone; becomes his embodiment, in point of fact, and obtains the supremacy for which he had fought so desperately. In the light shed by the Codex Fuenleal, before cited, it was easy to see that the entire performance dramatized the mythical combat between Tezcatlipoca and Huitzilopochtli for the position of the ruling power, in the heavens—the sun. At the same time it was decidedly puzzling to find celestial supremacy personified by a man, firmly fastened to one spot, the centre of a stone circle. It was impossible not to perceive the identity of thought underlying the representation of this prisoner and the pictures of Tezcatlipoca, the one-footed or lame god—Xonecuilli the Ursa Minor. It was moreover of extreme interest to note the existence of traditional records, preserved in the native myths, of changes in the relative positions of celestial bodies and of the Ursa Major in particular.

Whilst dwelling upon the striking analogy existing between the representations of Tezcatlipoca held fast by the symbol of the North and the prisoner attached to what is described either as “a temalacatl, stone whorl” or “an image of the sun,” my gaze fell on a small model of the calendar-stone of Mexico, hanging above my desk, and rested on the symbol Ollin in its centre. The learned [pg 013] director of the National Museum of Mexico, Señor Troncoso (Anales del Museo Nacional, vol. ii), had expressed his view that this symbol was an actual figurative representation of the annual apparent movements of the sun, and recorded its positions at the solstitial and equinoctial periods. I had, moreover, submitted a drawing of this same figure to the eminent English astronomer, Prof. Norman Lockyer, and he had corroborated this view and established its correctness. On the other hand, I had long noted that the Ollin was usually figured with an eye, the symbol for star, in its centre (fig. 2, nos. 1, 3), and had also paid particular attention to the fact that the Mexicans had conceived the ideas of two suns, a young day sun and an ancient night or black sun. In the B. N. MS., on the mantas worn at their respective festivals, the day sun is depicted in a somewhat fanciful manner, in blue and red on a white field. The black sun is, however, represented in classical style, so to speak, as on the sculptured calendar-stone, with four larger and four smaller V-shaped rays issuing from it. In this connection it is well to recall here that the Mexicans had no specific name for the sun, beyond Tonatiuh, which merely means “that which sheds light” and could equally apply to the stars. In the picture-writings the image of the sun was employed to convey the word Teotl. But we find that this word, assumed to be equivalent to their “Dios” by the Spaniards, was also a reverential title bestowed upon chieftains and superiors and was constantly employed in the composition of words to signify something divine, supremely beautiful, etc. Whilst I was pondering on the possibility that the symbol Ollin might have represented the movements of the luminaries of night as well as the orb of day, my attention became fixed upon the four numerals in each of the ends of the [pg 014] symbol and I was struck by a certain resemblance between their positions and those of the four stars which form the body of the bear in the constellation of Ursa Major. It was then that it occurred to me, as mentioned in the opening sentence of this introduction, to look at the familiar constellations, with a view to verifying the resemblance noted above. As my gaze sought “the pointers” in Ursa Major, and then mechanically turned to Polaris, I thought of some passages I had recently re-read, in Professor Lockyer's Dawn of Astronomy, realizing that his observations, dealing with the latitude 26° (taking Thebes as representing Egypt), could equally apply to Mexico as this country stretches from latitude 15° to 31°.

Figure 2

“The moment primitive man began to observe anything, he must have taken note of the stars, and as soon as he began to talk about them he must have started by defining, in some way or other, the particular star he meant. … Observers would first consider the brightest stars and separate them from the dimmer ones; they would then discuss the stars which never set (the circumpolar constellations) and separate them from those which did rise and set. Then they would naturally, in a northern clime, choose out the constellation of the Great Bear or Orion, and for small groups, the Pleiades (op. cit. p. 132). … A few years' observation would have appeared to demonstrate the absolute changelessness of the places of the rising and setting of the same stars. It is true that this result would have been found to be erroneous when a long period of time had elapsed and when observation became more accurate, but for hundreds of years the stars would certainly appear to represent fixity, while the movements of the sun, moon and planets would seem to be bound by no law … would appear erratic, so long as the order of their movements was not known.”

The reflection that Ursa Major was probably the first constellation which made any deep impression upon the mind of prehistoric man in America, as elsewhere, lent an additional interest to the star-group, as I concentrated my mind upon its form and endeavored to imagine it in four equidistant positions, corresponding to the numerals in the symbol Ollin of the calendar-stone of Mexico (fig. 2, no. 2).

I succeeded in obtaining, in succession, mental images of the constellation in four opposite positions. This effort led to an unforeseen result which surprised me. In a flash of mental vision I perceived a quadrupled image of the entire constellation, standing [pg 015] out in scintillating brilliancy from the intense darkness of the wintry sky (fig. 3, no. 3). At the same moment I saw that it bore the semblance of a symmetrical swastika of giant proportions. This fact, so unexpectedly realized, gave rise to such an absorbing train of new ideas and interpretations of the data I had accumulated, that I left my window, on that memorable night, with a growing perception of the deep and powerful influence the prolonged observation of Polaris and the circumpolar constellations would naturally have exerted upon the mind of primitive man. Deeply impressed with the striking resemblance between the composite image of Polaris, Ursa Major, and certain forms of the swastika, I started on a fresh line of investigation, and devoted myself to the study of primitive astronomy and its influence upon the intellectual development of mankind in general and the American races in particular. After having worked, during thirteen years, without any preconceived ideas about the ancient Mexican civilization and without formulating any general conclusion concerning it, I saw all the knowledge I had slowly acquired fall into rank and file and organize itself into a simple and harmonious whole.

Figure 3

Realizing this I perceived how, with the origin of the swastika, I had found the origin of the set of primeval ideas which had governed the human race from its infancy and which, in Mexican and Central American civilizations, ultimately developed into their ingenious system of government and social organization.

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Plate I. Chart of the Polar Constellations. I: Just After Sunset. II: Midnight. III: Just Before Sunrise.

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Plate II. Various Forms of the Swastika.

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Figure 4

The sequel to the above episode was that, with the aid of my movable star-chart, I made the following notes of the apparent positions of the circumpolar constellations at the times of sunrise, midnight and sunset, choosing the periods of the solstices and equinoxes in order to obtain an exact division of the year (pl. i). Whilst studying these I realized that the midnight position was the only stable one, since the actual visibility of the constellations before dawn and after dusk would be subject to considerable variation, according to seasons, latitudes and atmospherical conditions. Having noted these positions, I next combined them separately, obtaining the remarkable results given in fig. 4. The combined midnight positions of the Ursa Major or Minor, at the four divisions of the year, yielded symmetrical swastikas, the forms of which were identical with the different types of swastika or cross-symbols (the normal, ogee and volute, etc.), which have come down to us from remote antiquity and are reproduced here for comparison (pl. ii, a-f). Reflection showed me that such composite pictures of the Ursa constellations constituted an exact record of their annual rotation, and afforded a perfect sign for the period of a year. I moreover perceived how the association of rotatory motion with the advance of time, and its division into fixed periods or cycles, would be the natural outcome of the recognition of the annual rotation of the star-groups.

The Calendar-Swastika, or cross of ancient Mexico (pl. ii, g) constitutes an absolute proof of the native association of the cross-symbol with the ideas of rotatory motion and the progress of [pg 019] time, and furnishes an indication that, in an analogous manner, the swastika may have been primarily and generally employed by primitive races, as a sign for a year or cycle. A close scrutiny of the respective forms of the crosses yielded by Ursæ Major and Minor shows that the normal swastika and suavastika may be explained as the separate representations of the two constellations—the angular break in the outline of Ursa Major suggesting the direction of the bend to the right of the arms of the normal swastika, whilst the form of Ursa Minor obviously suggests the bend to the left which is characteristic of the suavastika.

Figure 5

My growing conviction that the Bear constellations had furnished the archetype of the different forms of swastika and cross-symbols, found subsequent support when I referred to the map showing the geographical distribution of the ancient symbol published by Prof. Thomas Wilson in his valuable and comprehensive monograph on the subject,1 to which I am indebted for much information [pg 020] and several illustrations (pl. ii, a-f, etc.). The map, reproduced here (fig. 5), proves that, with two exceptions, which can be attributed to a migration southward, the employment of the swastika has been confined to the northern hemisphere, i.e., precisely to that portion of our globe from which the circumpolar constellations are visible.

Figure 6. Star-Map, Representing The Precessional Movement Of The Celestial Pole From The Year 4000 B.C. To The Year 2000 A.D. (From Piazzi Smyth.)

The interesting possibility of being able to determine, approximately, the date in the world's history when the swastika began to be employed as a symbol, next occurred to me. Piazzi Smyth's star-map, discussed and reproduced in Professor Lockyer's work already cited (fig. 6), illustrates the changes of direction of the [pg 021] earth's axis in space, which gives rise to what is called the precession of the equinoxes and has a cycle of something like 25,000 or 26,000 years. Reference to this star-map (fig. 6) proved that the observations, leading to the adoption of the swastika as a symbol, could not possibly have been made until after Ursa Major had become circumpolar, about 4,000 B.C. At that period, when Draconis was the pole-star, the circle described about it by Ursa Major was considerably closer than it is at present. The accompanying illustrations (fig. 7), subject to correction, demonstrate the relative distance of the constellation about 2,770 B.C., 1,800 B.C., and 2,000 A.D., and show how much more strikingly impressive the polar region of the heavens was in remote antiquity.

Figure 7.

Let us now briefly review some of the ideas which would naturally suggest themselves to the mind of the primitive observer, after he had recognized the apparent immovability of the polar-star, concentrated his attention upon this feature, and contrasted it with the varying motions of all other celestial bodies in general and with the rotation of the circumpolar star-groups in particular.

This recognition would lead to his gradually learning to utilize Polaris as a means of ascertaining direction. His appreciation of valuable guidance rendered in perilous wanderings would develop feelings of trust, dependence and gratitude towards the one changeless star which permanently rendered valuable services and under whose guidance difficult and essential nocturnal expeditions could be safely undertaken. Superiority and, eventually, extensive supernatural power would more and more be attributed to it, as knowledge was gained of the laws of motion from which it alone seemed to be exempt. This exemption would cause it to be viewed as superior to all other heavenly bodies and even to the sun, and it is easy [pg 022] to see how this idea, becoming predominant, might cause the cult of the pole-star to disestablish an organized sun-cult amongst some tribes. Historical evidence, to which I shall revert more fully proves, indeed, that a native American ruler and reformer actually employed the following reasoning in order to convert his council and people from the worship of the sun to that of a superior divinity which could have been no other but Polaris: “It is not possible that the sun should be the God who created all things, for if so he would sometimes rest and light up the whole world from one spot. Thus it cannot be otherwise but that there is someone who directs him and this truly is the true Creator.”

These words shed a whole flood of light upon primitive religious ideas at an early stage of development. They prove that the association of repose and immovability with the supreme power signified a radical change of thought, based upon prolonged astronomical observation, and indicated intellectual advancement. Attempts to render the new idea objective, to express it and impress it upon the multitude, would naturally end in the production of images of the supernatural power, representing or typifying immovability, changelessness, strength combined with absolute repose.

It is thus rendered evident what a deep significance may be embodied in the rudest images of supernatural beings in attitudes of repose, since a prolonged course of astronomical observation and reasoning may have preceded their production.

Simultaneously with the recognition of Polaris as an immutable centre of axial energy, the rotatory movement of Ursa Major must have excited interest and observation. It was inevitable that star-gazers should gradually recognize a constant agreement between certain positions of Ursa Major and Cassiopeia after dusk for instance, and the annual recurrence of rain, verdure and bountiful food-supplies.

The members of a tribe who, more observant than others, had learned to associate certain positions of these constellations with the seasons and, as a consequence, were able to decide when expeditions to distant localities, in quest of game or fruit, might be successfully undertaken, would naturally assume leadership and command obedience and respect.

The sense of responsibility, superiority and, possibly, rivalry would act upon such individuals as a powerful incentive to further [pg 023] observation and thought and it is evident that, as their mental faculties expanded and one generation transmitted its store of accumulated knowledge to the next, a regular caste of astronomer-leaders would develop, with a tendency to conceal the secrets of their power from the ignorant majority. A broken line, carved on a rock by one of these primitive observers, would have constituted a valuable secret note of the position of Ursa Major on a memorable occasion and would be looked upon as a mystic or magical sign by the uninitiated. A series of such inscriptions might represent the store of astronomical knowledge accumulated by several generations of observers, and it is interesting to recognize that such astronomical records as these were probably the first which men were impelled to perpetuate in a lasting form; since it was absolutely necessary that they should be permanently available for reference at prolonged intervals of time. What is more, the mere fact of being obliged to refer to these inscriptions would cause the astronomers to reside permanently in one locality. The habit of consulting the prophet or oracle before undertaking important steps, involving the welfare of the tribe, would gradually cause the rocks or cavern in which he resided to be invested with a certain sacredness.

It is thus evident that the first men, who rudely scratched the outline of Ursa Major or Minor on a rock, took what was probably one of the most momentous steps in the history of the human race, and it is easy to see how a variety of combinations of circumstances would have led many men, in widely-separated localities and at different periods of the world's history, to perform precisely the same action. In some cases, under favorable surroundings, the rudimentary attempt would mark the starting point for a long line of patient observation and study, which would inevitably lead to the creation of centres of intellectual growth, to the association of the different positions of the constellation with the seasons and culminate in the habitual employment of a swastika as the sign for a year, or cycle of time.2

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The idea of rotation, associated with calendar signs and periods, finds its most striking and convincing exemplification in the following description of the ancient Mexican game “of those who fly,” translated from Clavigero (op. et ed. cit. p. 236). This performance, which furnished a diversion to the Spaniards after the Conquest, had evidently been, originally, connected with religious ideas. “The Indians selected a tall, stout and straight tree, and, lopping off its branches, planted it firmly in the centre of the great square” (which was always situated in the centre of the city and had four roads leading to it from the four quarters). “On the summit they placed a large cylinder of wood, the shape of which was compared by the Spaniards to that of a mortar. Four strong ropes hung from this and supported a square frame composed of four wooden beams. Four other ropes were fastened by one end to the pole itself and wound around it thirteen times. Their loose ends were passed through holes in the middle of each beam and hung from these. Four Indians, masked as eagles or other birds, ascended the pole singly, by means of certain loops of cord, and mounting on the cylinder they performed in this perilous position a few dance-like movements. Each man then attached himself to the loose end of one of the hanging ropes, and then, with a violent jerk and at the same moment, the four men cast themselves into space from their positions on the beams. This simultaneous movement caused the frame and cylinder to revolve and uncoil the ropes to which the men were fastened and these descended to the ground after performing a series of widening circles in the air. Meanwhile a fifth individual, who had mounted the wooden cylinder [pg 025] after the others, stood on this as it revolved, beating a small drum with one hand, whilst he held a banner aloft with the other.” Whilst it is obvious that this peculiar and dangerous performance clearly symbolized axial rotation, typified by the revolving pivot and the four men in aërial motion, its full meaning and intention are only made clear by the following explanation recorded by Clavigero. “The essential point in this game was to calculate so exactly the height of the pole and the length of the ropes, that the men should describe precisely thirteen circles each before reaching the ground, so as to represent the cycle (of 4×13=)52 years.”

This passage constitutes absolute proof that the Mexican Calendar system was intimately associated with axial rotation and ideas such as could only have been derived from observation of Polaris and of the circumpolar constellations. The game itself was a beautiful and well-conceived illustration of the flight of time, typified by the aërial circles performed by the men masked as birds, and of its methodical division into fixed periods.

Leaving the subject of the calendar for the present we must revert to my tables recording the apparent annual and nocturnal axial rotation of the circumpolar constellations.

Whilst studying these the reflection naturally arose, that the people who observed Ursa Major must have paid equal attention to Cassiopeia and noticed that these constellations ever occupied opposite positions to each other as they circled around the pole. Dwelling on the fact that in ancient Mexico Ursa Major was associated with an ocelot, I remembered the many representations in which an ocelot is represented as confronting an eagle, usually in mortal combat. Mexican war-chiefs were classed into two equally honorable grades, designated as the “ocelots and the quauhtlis, i.e., eagles.” The constellation of Cassiopeia presents to me, a marked resemblance to the image of a bird with outspread wings, whose head is turned toward Polaris. The fact that when this star-group seems to be above, Ursa Major seems to be below, and vice versa, would obviously suggest the idea of an eternal combat between two adversaries who alternately succumbed and resuscitated. It was interesting on reasoning further, to note that once the above idea had taken root it must have been impossible not to associate in course of time, the quadruped and the bird with the elements to which they seemed to pertain, and gradually to conceive the idea of an everlasting antagonism between the powers of [pg 026] the sky and of the earth, or light and darkness, and other opposites which suggested themselves naturally, or were artificially created, by the fertile mind of man. In this connection it should be observed that the mythical adversary of Tezcatlipoca, the ocelot, designated as Ursa Major, is Huitzilopochtli, whose idol, in the Great Temple of Mexico, represented him masked as a hummingbird (see Atlas Duran). The special reason why this bird became associated with the god is explained by the following passage in Gomara (Histoire générale des Indes. Paris, 1584, chap. 96, p. 190): “This bird died, or rather fell asleep in the month of October and remained attached by its feet to a twig. It awakened again in April when the flowers blossomed. For this reason, in the language of the country it is named Huitzitzilin, the resuscitated.” We therefore see that whilst it is stated in the myth that the ocelot arose again after having been cast down from the sky by Huitzilopochtli, the very name of the latter betokened that the bird-god had also only just “resuscitated” from a presumably similar defeat.