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“Ταχα δε και προηγουμενως τοις Ελλησιν εδοθη τοτε, (scil. η φιλοσοφια) πριν η τον Κυριον καλεσαι και τους Ελληνας: επαιδαγωγει γαρ και αυτη το Ελληνικον, ως ο νομος τους Εβραιους, εις Χριστον. Προπαρασκευαζει τοινυν η φιλοσοφια, προοδοποιουσα τον υπο Χριστου τελειουμενον.” Clem. Strom., lib. i. c. 5.

“PHILOSOPHI AUTEM QUI VOCANTUR, SI QUA FORTE VERA ET FIDEI NOSTRÆ ACCOMMODATA EIXERUNT, MAXIME PLATONIOI, NON SOLUM FORMIDANDA NON SUNT, SED AB EIS ETIAM, TANQUAM INJUSTIS POSSESSORIBUS, IN USUM NOSTRUM VINDICANDA.” Aug. De Doc Chr., lib. ii. ch. 1.

PLATO.

I. THE DEMON OF SOCRATES.

“The reason of this is what you have often heard me speak of, the God or spirit,—a certain voice which has come to me from a child.” Apolog. Soc,

From age to age descends the honied store
Of that old man who dwelt Hymettus nigh ,
Himself the rock of sweet philosophy,
Though nothing he hath left of letter'd lore.
I ask not what that unseen monitor
Which check'd him when of evil aught was by,
Yet left him free to suffer and to die;—
Whether some phrase mysterious, and no more
Than Heaven's protection and its peace serene,
Or allegoric parable,—or nought
But conscience thus embodied in his thought,—
Or haply some good angel-friend unseen,
Or more:—but I would ask not, for to thee
It speaks, my soul, a dread reality.

—“dulcique senex vicinus Hymetto.” Juv. xiii,

II. SOCRATES ON JUDGMENT AFTER DEATH.

“Such appears to me, O Callicles, the case with the soul; all things in it become manifest as soon as it is stripped of the body, its natural disposition, and the affections it has contracted by the pursuit of any object during life. When therefore they come into the judge's presence he attentively examines each soul; and oftentimes meeting with the soul of some great man, he finds it covered with sores and wounds from perjuries and injustice, such as the conduct of each has impressed on his own soul, corrupted by falsehood and pride, and from having lived without truth.... On beholding which he forthwith dismisses it to a place of suffering suited for it.” “Now I, Callicles, for my part, am persuaded by these accounts, and keep watch over myself, that I may manifest to the judge a soul as healthful as possible: and therefore bidding adieu to the honours of the world, and looking to truth, I will endeavour to be as good as I can while I live, and to continue so when I come to die. And all other men I exhort so to be as far as in me lies.... Now all these things perhaps appear to you to be as an old wife's tale, and you despise such stories. And indeed we might well do so, if by our enquiries we were able to discover any thing better and more true.” Gorgias.

O worthy e'en a martyr's death to die
Who thus could live and look beyond the tomb,
A heathen world by dying to illume,
And after death to leave along the sky
Of Grecian sages such a galaxy,
That they continue to the day of doom,
Lighting the horrors of that pagan gloom!

But if Truth's shadow so could charm thine eye,
What words thine adoration would express
Couldst thou but on the Man of Sorrows gaze!
How would that sight have lit and cheer'd thy ways!
For all-divinely didst thou speak e'en then
Of Truth, that had “no form nor comeliness,”
In tortures and in death from hands of men

De Rep., b. ii.

III. SOCRATES REFUSING TO ESCAPE FROM PRISON.

“If thou injurest us,” I think I hear the Laws saying to me, “if thou injurest us, we shall be angry with thee during life, and after death our sisters, the Laws which are in the unseen world, will not receive thee kindly, knowing that thou hast done what in thee lay to destroy us. Therefore be not persuaded by Crito, but by us.”

“Now such, my dear friend Crito, are the things which I seem to hear, as they who act the Corybantes imagine that they hear musical pipes; and as for myself the din of these things is so loud in mine ears, as to render me incapable of hearing any thing else beside.”

Crito.

Sleeping and waking didst thou seem to hear
The melodies of that angelic chime,
Which ever sound beyond the sea of time,
So pure Philosophy had charm'd thine ear,
And deaden'd to the noise of this low sphere;
Nothing to hear but the sweet sound sublime
Of heavenly Laws, which from the ethereal clime
Go forth in Laws that upon earth appear!
For in the breast of God they have their birth,
And though so soil'd in contact with our earth,
Yet are they His own ministers below,
And have celestial voices: which to know
Were better, youthful spirits to o'er-rule,
Than all the harmonies of Plato's school.

IV. THE LAST WORDS OF SOCRATES.

“And now the parts about his heart were becoming cold, when uncovering himself, for he had a mantle thrown over him, he spake these words, which were the last that he uttered, ‘O Crito,’ said he, ‘we owe a cock to Esculapius. Now repay this, and see you neglect it not.’” Phædon.

Thus Death spake out as from a sacred shrine,
Or from an haven where all sorrows cease.
With life he bore as with a long disease,
Resign'd to meet its ills with look benign,
And arguing, with presentiment divine,
That there may be in death a sure release,
To those who strive the Great Unseen to please
In ways of truth and godly discipline.
When now the poisonous draught 'gan to prevail
Upon his vitals, and to seize his breath
Mysteriously, as from an oracle,
Yet confidently he spake of Health in Death,
That hope's long cherish'd promise doth not fail,
But with the great Physician All is Well.

V. EGYPT.

“Pythagoras, the son of Mnesarchus, appears to have entertained thoughts concerning the One God worthy of his sojourn in Egypt.” Just. Mart. Cohort. ad Græc. 19.

First from the Orient came the golden light
Of the world's early morn, but from our eyes
Lost in the Egyptian shrines Tradition lies,
In priestly hieroglyphic hid from sight,
'Mid the dark pyramids: thence like thick night
Emerging, throng'd with ghastly deities,
Foul Superstition fill'd the Grecian skies.
Yet like the sun on some cloud-mantled height
Tinging the shadows, still Tradition's lore
On priest or sage a stream of light might pour
With fable not unblended, like a glass
Reflecting man's deep self; and thence to pass
To shrine or porch or grove,—Socratic lore,
Or mystic school of good Pythagoras.

VI. MYTHOLOGY.

“What can we suppose to be the cause of this, but that there is some perverse power, an enemy to truth, whose delight is in the errors of mankind, whose continual work it is, by pouring forth darkness, to blind the minds of men, that they may not behold the light, nor look up to heaven.” Lactan. Instit, lib. i. De fals. Sap. c. 1.

For since the knowledge of the One Supreme
Was the sole fountain which refresh'd mankind,
And purified and fill'd the inner mind,
To foul the source of that soul-cleansing stream
Did evil spirits labour,—made the theme
Of God and heaven amid the multitude
(Which ever blends with ill essential good)
A worship soul-corrupting; poet's dream,
Or language veil'd in priestly mysteries,
They turn'd to fond idolatry and lies;
On sacrificial victims laid the rod
Of their enchantments, made them deities,
Isis or Apis. Trembling at their nod,
Men worshipp'd some old emblem for a God.

VII. THE GRECIAN JUPITER.

“The philosophers made two Jupiters, one the natural, the other the fabulous.” Lactan., Instit. lib. iii De fals. Rel c. 11.

“The later Platonists consider Jupiter to be the soul as it were of this world.” Aug De Cons Evan, lib i. 35.

In the vast world, around, beneath, above,
Reflected as in a mysterious glass
They dimly saw a mighty spirit pass,—
Amid the clouds of sin and woe which move
O'er man's fast-waning race—and called it Jove:
Therein embodying both good and ill
In a fond image of the Invisible;
A shade and soul of Power, but not of Love.
And this they mirror'd as the God of Heaven,
To whom a new and iron reign was given,
After the realm of Saturn once all gold,
The God of man in Paradise of old.
But Jove spoke man as fallen, not restor'd,
The soul of a disorder'd universe,
On whom as frail Creation's feeble lord
The shadow rests of a primeval curse.

VIII. PLATONISM.

“They found in the knowledge of God the first Cause of the universe, the Light of Truth, the Fountain of Blessedness. They who thus think of God, whether Platonists or other Gentile philosophers, they think with us.” Aug De Civ. Dei, lib. viii. cap 10: and cap 6. and 7.

That God Himself is the essential Light,
Which is not subject to corporeal change,
The Fountain of all life, beyond the range
Of these our senses, and material sight;
That One Chief Good, supreme and infinite,
Wherein the soul, from bonds terrestrial free,
May drink of bliss and immortality,
And disembodied find serene delight;—
That he who seeks that pure Intelligence
Must walls of this our universe transcend,
Made like to God;—and ever heavenward tend
Beyond the reach of outward elements;
That true philosophy thus wean'd from sense
Is but the love of God, our being's end.

IX. THE PLATONISTS.

“That the Word was God, I read in those Platonic books, but that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, I read not there.” Aug. Confess., lib. vii. cap. 9.

Divine philosophy, that could afford
Such light to wandering men, and with its lore
Lead upward! yet in all their wisdom's store
Eye saw not, heart conceiv'd not, nor ear heard
Humiliations of the Incarnate Word,
Hid from the wise, reveal'd unto the poor;
Therefore they nothing knew of Christ the Door,
The Way, the Truth, the Life; a dying Lord
They knew not, Who descending from above
Emptied Himself in His eternal love,
That He might to Him gather those that mourn,
The “Man of Sorrows.” Like the moon, heavenborn
Their light, but dim and powerless; on them springs
No Sun of Righteousness with healing wings.

X. THE STOICS.

“Christian erudition subjects the mind to the government of God, and the passions to the control of the mind, that they may be converted to the uses of righteousness. The Stoics are wont to blame even pity.” Aug de Civ. Dei. lib. ix. c. 5.

If Plato too ethereal and refin'd,
So Zeno and the Porch were too severe,
Rooting out all affections, hope and fear,
Love, pity, hate; the body and the mind
Asunder rend, which God had once combin'd,
And sanctified in Him Who draws us near.
He came in our own flesh, and this our sphere
Of feelings and affections hath assign'd
To have a place in Christian righteousness;
Pity hath turn'd to love, anger to zeal,
On hopes and fears, which human souls possess,
By recompence eternal sets the seal,
The perfect man restoring from the dust
In the last Resurrection of the Just.

XI. THE PYTHAGOREANS.

“Of the hearers of Pythagoras some were content with his mere authority and the master's word; others were in secret instructed in such things as were not suitable to be disclosed to common ears, before they were purified by obedience.” Origen Cont. Cels, lib. i.

The Samian sage of ancient Italy
On contemplation dwelt and life divine,
And such his wisdom veil'd in mystic sign;
Yet till the God illumin'd and set free
Obedience was his door, and Faith the key,
While Silence kept the path of discipline,
Taught disputatious questions to decline,
Bright speculation, baseless theory;
Till strengthen'd by long duty, Self-control
Had purified the mirror of the soul.
But who hath such authority of rule
Save He Who is the Truth, the Word of God;
And he to whom He giveth Aaron's rod?
Such is the type of His diviner school .

See also Clement Alex. Strom ii. 11; and Theodoret, Serm. i. de Fide.

XII.

“Ibant obscuri solâ sub nocte per umbras
Perque domos Ditis vacuas et inania regna.
Quale per incertam Lunam sub luce malignâ
Est iter in sylvis; ubi cœlum condidit umbrâ
Jupiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem.”
Æn. vi.

They seem to walk 'mid the surrounding mass
In light of goodness, virtue's benison,
Gazing upon all nature as a glass
Of things in Heaven; but unto us, alas!
In nightly groves obscure they wander on;
Good Socrates, sweet Plato, Xenophon,
And Plato's other sire, Pythagoras ,
With virtue-loving sage, Stagira's son.
In their imagin'd realms beyond the tomb
They see but shadows mingling with the gloom,
Which meteor lights may fitfully illume,
Serene yet all uncertain, fair but cold,
Nothing distinct, all vague and manifold;
Yet still they strove the better part to hold.

“Plato dicitur post mortem Socratis magistri sui, quem singulariter dilexerat, a Pythagoreis etiam multa didicisse.” Aug. Con Acad., lib. iii. 37.

XIII. THE CHANGE.

“Largior hic campos æther et lumine vestit
Purpureo; solemque suum, sua sidera norunt.”
Æn. vi.

'Tis no more wandering in a gloom profound ,
For our own Sun, our stars to us are known,
The suffering Saints who their bright goal have won.
To us an ampler far horizon's bound,
And our own purple light hath o'er us shone,
Investing all things; while our own true Sun,
And constellations which our path surround
Lead on the way with light and glory crown'd.
With Socrates and Plato have we been,
But issue in a temple full within
With light, poetic strains, and melody.
Where aged rustics understand, and see,
Yea, they in His own beauty see their King,
And little children of His glories sing.

“The great doctrines of a future state, the danger of a course of wickedness, and the efficacy of repentance, are not only confirmed in the Gospel, but are taught, especially the last is, with a degree of light, to which that of nature is but darkness.” Butler, Anal. pt. ii. ch 1.

XIV. POETS ADMITTED TO THE CITY OF GOD.

“Quique pii vates, et Phæbo digna locuti;—
Omnibus his niveâ cinguntur tempora vittâ.”
Æn vi.

But He—Who all things which to us belong
Hath ta'en unto Himself, and with the coal
From off His altar touch'd the human soul—
Hath sanctified and bless'd the Poet's song,
To set forth wisdom and make virtue strong;
By all that is upon the Prophet's roll,
And David, mightier with the poet's scroll
Than with the kingly sceptre, to prolong
A kingdom in men's hearts. But the true Seer
At the sole well of life must drink most deep,
By prayer and deeds of alms and life severe;
Or nature's inbred taint those streams will steep,
Conveying their own love, and hate, and fear;
And over his own issues he shall weep.

XV. PLATO'S MUSIC OF THE SOUL.

“Exiit ad cœlum ramis felicibus arbos,
Miraturque novas frondes et non sua poma.”
Georg. ii.

Such may instil, as Plato's self design'd,
Love of eternal beauty, which is Truth,
And harmonies that speak of endless youth;
With that celestial music which may wind
Like amarynthine gales into the mind,
Like airs from odorous places breathing health ;—
Insensibly conveying, and by stealth,
E'en from their tender years, the love resign'd
Of Justice, Courage, Temperance; till these,
As beauteous statues in a temple stand,
Shall all the heart possess. Those melodies,
Which Plato dream'd of, like a purple band
Of clouds, part off and shew a stable strand,
The love of God and Christian charities .

“Οποθεν αν αυτοις απο των καλων εργων η προς οψιν η προς ακοην τι προσβαλη, ωσπερ, αυρα φερουσα απο χρηστων τοπων υγιειαν, και ευθυς εκ παιδων λανθανη εις ομοιοτητα τε και φιλιαν και ξυμφωνιαν τω καλω λογω αγουσα.” Plato, De Rep. lib. iii.

See Augustin De Civ. Dei, lib. xvii. cap. 41. “Harmonia musica .. bene ordinatæ civitatis insinuat unitatem.”

XVI. PLATO EXPELLING POETS.

[_]

From De Republica, lib. x.

“Ah, did but Homer so belov'd from youth,—
Did poetry that charm'd us, only move
To virtue and build up immortal Truth,
Hymning the heroic dead and Gods above!—
No, we must pluck her love from the fond heart,
And grieving bid her beauteous form depart.

“Though Heaven-descended, mingling with mankind,
With charm of numbers and melodious song,
She is too fair for the untutor'd mind,
Strength'ning the Passions in themselves too strong;
A pleasing poison, soul-enfeebling joy;—
Destroy we that which else will us destroy.

“For 'tis not wont with poets to convey
Into men's souls true Wisdom's light austere,
But by their imitations to pourtray
Shadows of good, to please the eye and ear,
Bidding men weep, joy, sorrow; and enroll
Unworthy gods and heroes in the soul.

“For great, my friend, beyond all seeming great
The struggle and the hazard to be good,
That not for honours, wealth, or high estate,
Nor poetry, if she hath hind'ring stood,
'Twere well to lose the meed of righteousness,
Or virtue which the inner soul doth bless.”

XVII. ON A FUTURE STATE.

[_]

Ibid. continued.

“Something of its rewards and heritage
And prizes laid before it have I told;
Yet nothing can be great on this short stage,
So brief the period ere the young are old;
But what if souls of men can never die,
And this be part of immortality?

“For Vice doth not the soul annihilate,
Though she corrupts it till the body dies,
And death can be to it but change of state,
('Twere well if death could end its miseries!)
But if its own corruption doth not slay
The substance which it preys on, nothing may.

“As in the eye or body its disease,
Canker on corn and rust on iron fed,
In flesh putridity, decay in trees,
Destroys the life of that where 'tis inbred,
So not wounds, death, or aught of outward ill,
Nothing but Vice itself the soul can kill.

“Think, then, friend Glaucus,—though I have but shewn
That righteousness were to the human soul
Its own exceeding guerdon, though alone;
And it were well to live in her control
Though Gyges'ring could shelter us from harm,
Or helm of Hades were our saving charm.

“Think, when the soul of man shall cast aside
The incrustations, sea-weed, shell, and slime,
That now her form deface, her lustre hide;
And from the Ocean of our nether time
Shall free herself, shake her fresh wing, and shine
Cognate to the immortal and divine.

“What though 'neath penury, disease, or shame,
Here Virtue be unknown, scorn'd, and belied;
Yea, 'neath a cloud of obloquy and blame
May seem awhile of men and gods denied;
Yet in the end e'en men themselves shall own,
And to the God throughout 'tis surely known.

“It cannot be but she the palm must bear;
For bad men are like they that in the race
Haste for awhile, then fail and disappear,
Uncrown'd and hang the head; while in their place
The better persevere and gain the crown;
Shadows must flee away, truth stand alone.

“Therefore though Goodness shine below, at length
Herself her own reward in human eyes,
Yet this is nought comparèd with the strength
And greatness of the things beyond the skies.
But in a tale of Hades let me tell
Of thoughts which are themselves unspeakable.

“Herus, a warrior of Pamphylian race,
Upon a battle-field unburied lay;
After ten suns when men now sought the place,
Corruption there had made the slain her prey,
Yet touch'd him not; his body still entire
Borne home was laid upon the funeral pyre.

“Then he, though twelve days dead, to life awoke,
And spoke of places where his soul had been;—
That when forth from the body first it broke
With many others, to a place serene
It came, where spirits met, a dread retreat,
Where two from earth, from Heaven two openings meet.

“And there sat Judges, in that middle space,
Judging the souls; and to the Just was given,
Bearing their deeds adjudg'd before their face,
On the right-hand thence to ascend to Heaven;
The wicked on the left were sent below,
And bore upon their backs their deeds of woe.

100

“When Herus to those Judges now drew near,
They bad him to this earth again repair,
To mortal men a solemn messenger,
Warning them of the things he witness'd there;
For awful sights he saw where spirits dwell,
Too vast and manifold for tongue to tell;—

“Unheard of punishments for varied crime,
Ten or a hundred or a thousand-fold,
For rapine, treason, murders of past time;
'Mongst which impieties, late or of old,
Against the gods or parents foremost stood,
And Self-destruction, stain'd with its own blood.

“And then he heard another Soul enquire
Where the great Ardiæus might be seen,
He who his brother slew and aged sire;
A tyrant in Pamphylia he had been,
For crimes and mighty deeds renown'd of yore,
Who reign'd on earth a thousand years before.

“‘Great Ardiæus cannot hither come,’
Was answer'd;—then appear'd a fearful sight,
They on a sudden in the gulf of doom,
'Mid tyrants and great criminals of might,
Saw Ardiæus; as they sought to rise
With a terrific moan of miseries

101

“The Gulf arose and hinder'd them; and then
Incurably they sunk; and forth there came
Burning with lurid fire what seem'd like men,
Who seizing him with partners of his shame
Bound them together, hands, and feet, and head,
And dragg'd them down to Tartarus most dread.

“Then corresponding to those penal pains
Rewards in multiform varieties,
Majestic calm delights and endless gains.
And first a middle place of rest and ease,
A meadow lit up with a radiant gloom
Whereto innumerable spirits come;—

“After long travail thither they repair,
Their trials over and awhile repose;
Meetings and greetings sweet of friends were there,
And much recountings of past joys and woes,
And questionings for those they left behind,
And sad and sweet memorials brought to mind.

“There unto each an interval was given
In that fair meadow for a Seven-day's space;
On the Eighth day the good arose toward Heaven;
Thence after one day's journey reach'd a place
Empyreal, whence from earth extending bright
They saw a pillar of ethereal light,

102

“Like Iris, but more clear and pure it burn'd;
It was the vast world's circumambient bond;
Thence chains from high descending they discern'd
Amid that light, within, above, beyond;
O'er which sat Destiny, in whose vast woof
Their circuits are, of adamantine proof.

“Each on its circling sphere, Eight Sirens move,
With notes whose Octave forms Heaven's harmony,
And thron'd at equal intervals above
Of Destiny there sat the daughters three,
Lachesis, Clotho, Atropos,—all crown'd
With golden crowns, with white robes flowing round.

“Those, the three Fates, unto the Sirens' chime
The Past, the Present, and the Future sing,—
The evolutions of eternal time,—
Of birth, life, death; while one doth loudly ring,
‘Go forth, ye Souls, choose your immortal state,
For you Fate chooses not, but ye your Fate.’

“Thus while each takes his earthly destiny
From lap of Lachesis, 'tis sung in Heaven,
That virtue her own mistress is and free,
Whatever mortal lot the God hath given:
As more or less of holiness men choose,
More of eternal good they gain or lose.

103

“In this, friend Glaucus, then, in this must dwell
All of man's danger; let us care to know
No other science but of living well,
Our whole, sole being upon this bestow,—
How we to life's true knowledge may arrive,
And living better, better know to live.

“Unto all other things to bid adieu,
Or ask them what they bring for the soul's health,
Look on and eye them well with this in view,—
Glory, disgrace, strength, weakness, want or wealth,
Empire or private state, high or low birth,
To question and in this scale weigh their worth.

“Be then by me persuaded, deem the soul
Immortal, and for ever capable
Through all its being and beyond control
Of unknown joy and sorrow, good or ill;
So may we to the gods live friends below,
Hereafter gain such crowns as they bestow.”

Bp. Butler, Anal., pt. i. ch. ii. “Gentile writers, both moralists and poets, speak of the future punishment of the wicked, both as to the duration and the degree of it, in a like manner of expression and of description, as the Scripture does.” &c.—See the whole passage.

104

XVIII. ON CONSCIENCE.

[_]

FROM DE REP., LIB. I.

“For know, O Socrates, as time draws near,
When man by nature must expect to die,
There comes into his soul an anxious fear
Unknown before, which will not be put by;
And tales of Hades which were once a jest
With terrible forebodings haunt his breast.

“Lest it be true that wrongful deeds done here
Must there encounter after-recompence;
And haply to that state as he draws near,
Or old age deadens the external sense,
He sees more clearly somewhat of the dead;—
His soul, howe'er it be, is full of dread.

“Anxious he thinks, if any he hath harm'd;
Should many guilty deeds his past life fill,
Like children, oft from sleep he starts alarm'd,
In expectation lives of coming ill:
But if from evil free his course hath been,
Hope to him comes, Eld's pleasing nurse serene,

105

“As Pindar sings full well, when man his days
With justice and with holiness hath past,
Hope, cheerful friend, Hope, that as steersman sways
Man's wave-toss'd heart, Hope, solace sweet, at last
Comes, best of help-mates, with old age to dwell :
O Socrates, 'tis said how wondrous well!”

The picture is reversed by a modern infidel: “I must reluctantly observe, that two causes, the abbreviation of time and the failure of hope, will always tinge with a browner shade the evening of life.”—Last words of Gibbon, in “Memoirs” of his own life.

106

ARISTOTLE.

THE HYMN TO VIRTUE.

“O sought with many toils and strife
By those of mortal race,
Virtue, thou noblest prize of life,
Whose love in us finds such deep place;
Thy beauteous form, O Maid, to gain,
'Twere deem'd in Greece an envied lot to die;
And fiery toils unwearied to sustain;
For fruit which thou dost bear is Immortality.

“Better than gold, ancestral ties,
Or sleep's soft-vision'd eye;
For whom the Jove-born Hercules,
And Leda's sons in labours vie;
Pursuing while it seem'd to flee
The power that is with thee, of suffering bred;
Achilles too in longings after thee,
And Ajax sought for thee the chambers of the dead.

“Atarnæ's nursling, great and good,
For thy dear beauty's sake,
Hath turn'd our sun to widowhood,
Such mourning doth his dying make:

107

Him shall the immortals praise and love,
The Muses, daughters of Mnemosyne,
For honour paid to hospitable Jove,
And Friendship's guerdon built on stedfast constancy.”

ON THE FOREGOING, AS ILLUSTRATED BY THE ETHICS.

So spake the Stagyrite,—mysterious Hymn,
Breathing deep pregnant thought! yet oh, how dim
And powerless, to embody the full soul
Of one that yearn'd for that supernal goal,
Where man may find a resting-place with God!
Clear as with pointing hand or guiding rod
Did Virtue thither shew that middle road;
Yet well he knew of that serene abode,
That neither Jove-born Hercules, nor those
The sons of Leda, who endur'd such woes,—
Nor Peleus' son nor Ajax, who in quest
Of thee to Hades went in his unrest,—
Nor that Atarnæ's offspring, whom he mourn'd,—
Full well he knew those chiefs by fame adorn'd,
Knew not that glorious essence which he sought.
The substance empyrèal of his thought
Was too transcendent, of too heavenly mould
To have been grasp'd by them whose prowess bold

108

With feats of arm'd achievements fills the earth,
Oft multiplying ills and nothing worth.
But yet such names, by suffering glorified,
As emblems serv'd and shadowy types, allied
To that pure archetype which fill'd his thought,
Amid the things of men that come to nought:—
Which after mortal labour gives repose,
Whose shadow haunts our being till its close,
A crown invisible that mocks our toil,
Yet beckons us to follow: in the coil
Of labours difficult still seems to flee,
And beckons on to immortality ,
Still promises yet gives not, flies from view,
And turns in death that promise to renew.

Εφ' οσον ενδεχεται απαθανατιζειν, και απαντα ποιειν προς το ζην κατα το κρατιστον των εν αυτω. Ethics, lib. x cap. 7.

109

PYTHAGORAS.

THE GOLDEN VERSES.

“First worship Gods above ordain'd by law;
Respect thine oath; next Heroes hold in awe;
And pay due reverence to the Dead below;
Honour to Parents, love to kindred shew;
Of others for thy friend the best man choose;
Yield to mild words, nor kindly deeds refuse;
For a slight fault hold not thy friend at bay,
Long as thou canst,—and can dwells next to may.
These things observ'd in constant mastery keep
Thy belly, and thy lust, thy wrath, thy sleep.
Nought base do with another, nor alone,
To thyself most of all be reverence shewn.
In deed and word keep justice still in view;
Nor without Reason any end pursue.
Remember we are destin'd all to die,
That riches come to one, another fly.

110

But in Divine-sent ills which mortals bear
Resist not, but with meekness take thy share;
Much may be remedied, and of such woes
On good men seldom much the God bestows.
Many are the reports which range abroad,
Be not by these o'er-awed to quit the road
Of self-restraint; if Falsehood should assail,
Bear it with meekness; hold this without fail,
That none by word or deed thy purpose wrest
To do or say but what appeareth best.
Think before action, lest it come to nought;
Fools only act and speak without a thought.
Do nothing which may leave a grief behind;
Know what thou doest, and, if ignorant, find
Instruction; so thy life shall please thy soul.

“Nor of thy body's health neglect control,
Keep to the mean, in food, drink, exercise,—
That mean from which no after-pains arise:
Let not thy food be delicate, but plain.
Avoid what may to envy cause a pain.
Thrift marks a weak, expense a vulgar mind;
In all things it is best the mean to find.

“Always with fore-thought look unto the end;
Nor with sweet slumber let thine eyelids blend
Ere each of thy day's works thou thrice review,—
Where have I err'd? what done? what fail'd to do?
As each successive action comes to sight
Mourn o'er the ill, and in the good delight.

111

“Labour in these, these meditate, and love,
To Virtue they as steps divine will prove,
Through him who in man's soul hath made thus rife
A fount quaternion of immortal life.
In every action first ask aid of Heaven,
Then do thy work. Thus to the soul is given
To know of gods and men the eternal laws,
The course they hold and the restraining cause.
To know the nature which doth each contain,
That nought should 'scape thee, nor thy hopes be vain.
Mark what self-chosen evils mortals bear,
Nor see nor hear the good that lies so near.
Few from these ills the refuge know to find,
Such destiny o'er-clouds the human mind.
As on a wheel, from care to care, through life
Men pass, and heap up woes, and seek for strife;—
Strife, their own birth-companion, ever nigh;—
They have no need to seek it but to fly!

“O Father Jove, release us from these woes,
Or shew to each what demon with him goes.
But be thou hopeful, man's race is Divine,
His nature all things sacred would design,
Divinely-born. Let self these Rules control,
They shall from evil save and heal thy soul.

From interdicted meats, as rites ordain,
And for deliverance of thy soul, refrain.

112

Let Wisdom o'er thine actions still preside,
As charioteer ; so thou, as she shall guide,
To the free skies mayst from the body soar,
As an immortal God, and man no more.”

“The Passions, which arise in the soul from the influence of the body, must be kept under by Reason as by a scourge; lest by relaxing the reins to pleasure we neglect the mind, which thus is dragged and borne away like a charioteer by headstrong horses that obey not the rein. Rather should we remember the saying of Pythagoras, who, when he observed one of his acquaintance too much strengthening the flesh by exercise and food; ‘will you not,’ said he, ‘cease from thus rendering your prison-house more severe to yourself?’”—S. Basil, De leg. lib. Gen.