and involved statements, ay, and wasted ingenuity, and solemn trifling, and quips and quirks, of all kinds! Yes-by Jove! and there are gold pieces there, and imprudence and luxury and debauchery-oh! I see them all, though you are trying to hide them! And your lies, and pomposity, and thinking yourself better than everybody else-away with all that, I say! Why if you bring all that aboard, a fifty oared galley wouldn't hold you! Philosopher.-Well, I'll leave it all behind then, if I must. Men.-But make him take his beard off too-Master Mercury; it's heavy and bushy, as you see there's five pound weight of hair there, at the very least. Merc.-You're right. Take it off, sir! Phil.-But who is there who can shave me? Merc.-Menippus there will chop it off with the boat-hatchet-he can have the gunwale for a chopping-block. Men.-Nay, Mercury, lend us a saw-it will be more fun. Merc.-Oh, the hatchet will do! So that's well; now you've got rid of your goatishness, you look something more like a man. Men.-Shall I crop a bit off his eyebrows as well? Merc.-By all means; he has stuck them up on his forehead, to make him look grander, I suppose. What's the matter now? You're crying, you rascal, are you-afraid of death? Make haste on board, will you? Men. -He's got something now under his arm. Merc. -What is it, Menippus ? Men.-Flattery it is, Mercury-and a very profitable article he found it while he was alive. Phil. (in a fury).—And you, Menippus leave your lawless tongue behind you, and your cursed independence, and mocking laugh; you're the only one of the party who dare laugh. Merc.-(laughing).-No, no, Menippus-they're very light, and take little room; besides, they are good things on a voyage. But you, Mr. Orator there, throw away your rhetorical flourishes, and antitheses, and parallelisms, and barbarisms, and all that heavy wordy gear of yours. Orator.-There, then-there they go! Merc.-All right. Now then, slip the moorings. Haul that plank aboard-up anchor and make sail. Mind your helm, master! And a good voyage to us! What are you howling about, you fools? You, Philosopher, specially? Now that you've had your beard cropped. Phil.-Because, dear Mercury, I always thought the soul had been immortal. Men. He's lying! It's something else that troubles him, most likely. Merc.-What's that. Men. That he shall have no more ex. pensive suppers, nor after spending all the night in debauchery, profess to lecture to the young men on moral philosophy in the morning, and take pay for it. That's what vexes him. Phil.-And you, Menippus-are you not sorry to die? Men.-How should I be, when I hastened to death without any call to it? But, while we are talking, don't you hear a noise as of some people shouting on the earth? Merc.-Yes, I do-and from more than one quarter. There's a public rejoicing yonder for the death of Lampichus; and the women have seized his wife, and the boys are stoning his children; and in Sicyon they are all praising Diophantus the orator for his funeral oration upon Crato here. Yes -and there is Damasias' mother wailing for him amongst her women. But there's not a soul weeping for you, Menippus-You're lying all alone. Men.-Not at all-You'll hear the dogs howling over me presently, and the ravens mournfully flapping their wings, when they gather to my funeral. Merc.-Stoutly said. But here we are at the landing-place. March off, all of you, to the judgment seat straight; I and the ferryman must go and fetch a fresh batch. Men.-A pleasant trip to you, Mercury. So we'll be moving on. Come, what are you all dawdling for? You've got to be judged, you know; and the punishments, they tell me are frightful-wheels, and stones, and vultures. Every man's life will be strictly inquired into, I can tell you. [The Cynic Menippus introduced to us in this amusing dialogue,-" a dog of the real old breed," as Lucian calls him, "always ready to bark and bite"-is a great favorite with the author, and reappears very fre quently in these imaginary conversations. He was a disciple of Diogenes, and had been a usurer in earlier life, but having lost his wealth by the roguery of others, at last committed suicide. The banter with which he treats Charon in the little dialogue which follows is very humorous.] an obolus? Men.-I know nothing about anybody else; I know I haven't. Cha. (catching hold of him).—I'll strangle you, you villain! I will by Pluto! if you don't pay. Men. And I'll break your head with my staff. Cha.-Do you suppose you are to have such a long trip for nothing? Men.-Let Mercury pay for me, then; it was he who put me on board. Mercury. A very profitable job for me, by Jove! if I'm to pay for all the dead people. Cha. (to Men.)-I shan't let you go. Men. You can haul your boat ashore, then, for that matter, and wait as long as you please; but I don't see how you can take from me what I don't possess. it? Cha.-Didn't you know you had to pay Men. I knew well enough; but I tell you I hadn't got it. Is a man not to die because he has no money? Cha.-Are you to be the only man, then, who can boast that he has crossed the Styx gratis? Men.-Gratis? Not at all, my good friend, when I baled the boat, and helped you with the oar, and was the only man on board who didn't howl. Cha. That has nothing to do with the passage-money; you must pay your obolus. It's against all our rules to do otherwise. Men.-Then take me back to life again. Cha.-Yes, a fine proposal-that I may get a whipping from Eacus for it. Men. Then don't bother. Cha.-Show me what you've got in your scrip there. Men.-Lentils, if you please, and a bit of supper for Hecate. Cha. (turning to Mercury in despair).— Where on earth did you bring this dog of a cynic from, Mercury ?-chattering, as he did, all the way across, cutting his jokes and laughing at the other passengers, and sing ing while they were all bemoaning them. selves. Merc.-Didn't you know, Charon, who your passenger was? A most independent fellow, who cares for nobody. That's Me nippus. Cha. (shaking his fist at him as he mover off)-Well, let me only catch you again! Men. (looking back and laughing).—Ay if you catch me; but 'tis hardly likely, my good friend, that you'll have me for a pas senger twice. MERCURY AND CHARON SQUARING ACCOunts. Mercury. Let us have a reckoning, if you please, Mr. Ferryman, of how much you owe me up to this present date, that we mayn't have a squabble hereafter about the items. Charon. By all means, Mercury-noth ing like being correct in such matters; it saves a world of unpleasantness. Merc.-I supplied an anchor to your or der—twenty-five drachmæ. Cha.-That's very dear. Merc.-I vow to Pluto I gave five for it. And a row-lock thong-two obols. Cha.—Well, put down five drachmæ, and two obols. Merc.-And a needle to mend the sail. Five obols I paid for that. Cha.-Well, put that much down too. Merc.-Then, there's the wax for caulking the seams of the boat that were open, and nails, and a rope to make halyards of,― two drachmæ altogether. Cha.-Ay; you bought those worth the money. Merc.-That's all, if I've not forgotten something in my account. And now, when do you propose to pay me? Cha.-It's out of my power, Mercury, at this moment; but if a pestilence or a war should send people down here in considerable numbers, you can make a good thing of it then by a little cheating in the passage money. Merc. So I may go to sleep at present, and put up prayers for all kinds of horrible things to happen, that I may get my dues thereby? Cha.-I've no other way of paying you, Mercury, indeed. At present, as you see, very few come our way. It's a time of peace, you know. Merc.-Well, so much the better, even if I have to wait for my money a while. But those men in the good old times--ah! you remember, Charon, what fine fellows used to heaven of the things of earth. And they told come here,-good warriors all, covered with one another of what had happened by the blood and wounds, most of them! Now, way, some weeping and sorrowing at the re'tis either somebody who has been poisoned membrance of the things which they had by his son or his wife, or with his limbs and endured and seen in their journey beneath carcass bloated by gluttony, pale spirit- the earth (now the journey lasted a thousand less wretches all of them, not a whit like years), while others were describing heaventhe others. Most of them come here owly blessings and visions of inconceivable ing to their attempts to overreach each beauty."-J. other in money matters, it seems to me. Cha.-Why, money is certainly a very desirable thing. Merc.-Then don't think me unreasonable, if you please, if I look sharp after your little debt to me. THE STORY OF ER. And for all evil deeds each soul suffered a ten-fold punishment, and for its good deeds it received a ten-fold reward. And Er heard one of the spirits ask another, where Ardiæus the Great was? (He had been a tyrant of some city in Pamphylia a thousand years before Er lived, and had murdered his aged father and brother, and committed many other crimes.) "The answer was: 'He comes not hither, and will never come!' 'And indeed,' he ER, the Pamphylian, a brave man, was said, 'this was one of the terrible sights slain in battle, and ten days afterwards his which was witnessed by us. For we were body, which, unlike all the other dead, was approaching the mouth of the cave, and havstill uncorrupted, was brought home to being seen all, were about to reascend, when of buried; but on the funeral pyre he returned to life, and told all he had seen in the other world. When his soul left his body (he said) he journeyed, in company with many other spirits until he came to a certain place where there were two openings in the earth and two in the heaven, and between judges were seated, "Who bade the just, after they had judged them, ascend by the heavenly way on the right hand, having the signs of the judgment bound on their foreheads; and in like manner the unjust were commanded by them to descend by the lower way on the left hand; these also had the symbols of their deeds fastened on their backs. He drew near, and they told him that he was to be the messenger of the other world to men, and they bade him hear and see all that was to be heard and seen in that place. Then he beheld and saw on one side the souls departing at either chasm of heaven and earth when sentence had been given on them; and at the two other openings other souls, some ascending out of the earth dusty and worn with travel, some descending out of heaven clean and bright, and always on their arrival, they seemed as if they had come from a long journey, and they went out into the meadow with joy, and there encamped as at a festival, and those who knew one another embraced and conversed, the souls which came from earth curiously inquiring about the things of heaven, and the souls which came from a sudden Ardiæus appeared and several others, most of whom were tyrants; and there were also besides the tyrants, private indi viduals who had been great criminals; they were just at the mouth, being, as they fancied, about to return to the upper world, but the opening, instead of receiving them, gave a roar, as was the case when any incurable or unpunished sinner tried to ascend; and then wild men of fiery aspect, who knew the meaning of the sound, came up and seized and carried off several of them, and Ardiæus and others they bound head and foot and hand, and threw them down and flayed them with scourges, and dragged them along the road at the side, carding them on thorns like wool, and declaring to the pilgrims as they passed what were their crimes, and that they were being taken away to be cast into hell. And of all the terrors of the place, there was no terror like this of hearing the voice; and when there was silence, they ascended with joy.' These were the penalties and retributions, and there were blessings as great." -J. Er and his spirit companions tarried seven days in this meadow, and then set out again on their journey; and on the fourth day they came to a place where a pillar of light like a rainbow, but far brighter, stretched across heaven and earth, and in another day's jour ney they reached it, and found that this light bound together the circle of the heavens, as a chain undergirds a ship; and to either end of this pillar was fastened the distaff of Necessity, having a shaft of adamant and a wheel with eight vast circles of divers colors, fitted into one another, and narrowing toward the centre. And in these circles eight stars were fixed; and as the spindle moved round, they moved with it-each slowly or swiftly according to its proper motion. And on each circle a siren stood, singing in one note, and thus from the eight stars arose one great harmony of sound. And round about these circles at equal distances were three thrones, and on these thrones were seated the three daughters of Necessity, clothed in white robes, with garlands on their heads. And they also sang as they turned the circles of the spindle. Lachesis singing of past time, Clotho of the present, and Atropos of time that shall be. The spirits, as they arrived, were led to Lachesis in order by a Prophet, who took from her knees lots and samples of lives, and mounting a rostrum, spoke as follows: "Thus saith Lachesis, daughter of Necessity. Mortal souls, behold a new cycle of mortal life! Your genius will not choose you, but you will choose your genius; and let him who draws the first lot have the first choice of life, which shall be his destiny. Virtue is free, and according as a man honors or dishonors her he will enjoy her more or less; the chooser is responsible, heaven is justified." When he had thus spoken he cast the lots among them, and each took up the lot which fell near him, all but Er himself, who was not allowed. And these lives were of every kind, both of men and animals, and were variously composed-beauty, and wealth, and poverty, and strength, and nobility all mingled together. But no definite character was yet attached to any; for the future nature of each soul depended on the life it might choose. And on the choice (so said the Prophet who had arranged the lots) each man's happiness depended, and to choose aright he should know all that follows from the possession of power and talent; and should choose the mean, and avoid both extremes so far as he may, not in this life only but in that which is to come. "Even the last comer, if he choose discreetly and will live carefully, shall find there is reserved for him a life neither unhappy nor undesirable. Let not the first be careless in his choice, neither let the last despair." It was a sad yet laughable sight (said Er) to see the manner in which the souls made their choice For the first chose the great | est despotism he could find, not observing that it was ordained in his lot that he should devour his own children; and when he found this out, he lamented and beat his breast, accusing the gods, and chance, and everything rather than himself. And their former experience of life influenced many in their choice: thus the soul of Orpheus chose the life of a swan, because he hated to be born again of woman (for women had before torn him in pieces); and Ajax chose the life of a lion, and Agamemnon that of an eagle, because men had done them wrong; and Thersites, the buffoon of the Iliad, took the appropriate form of an ape. Last of all came Ulysses, weary of his former toils and wanderings; and, after searching about for a while, he chose a quiet and obscure life, that was lying neglected in a corner, for all the others had passed it by. "Now when all the souls had chosen, their lives in the order of the lots, they advanced in their turn to Lachesis, who dispatched with each of them the Destiny he had selected, to guard his life and satisfy his choice. This Destiny first led the soul to Clotho in such a way as to pass beneath her hand and the whirling motion of the distaff, and thus ratified the fate which each had chosen in the order of precedence. After touching her, the same Destiny led the soul next to the spinning of Atropos, and thus rendered the doom of Clotho irreversible. From thence the souls passed straight forward under the throne of Necessity. When the rest had passed through it, Er himself also passed through; and they all travelled into the plane of Forgetfulness, through dreadful suffocating heat, the ground being destitute of trees and of all vegetation. the evening came on, they took up their quarters by the bank of the river of Indifference, whose water cannot be held in any vessel. All persons are compelled to drink a certain quantity of the water; but those who are not preserved by prudence drink more than the quantity: and each, as he drinks, forgets everything. When they had gone to rest, and it was now midnight, there was a clap of thunder and an earthquake; and in a moment the souls were carried up to their birth, this way and that like shooting stars. Er himself was prevented from drinking any of the water; but how, and by what road he reached his body, he knew not only he knew that he suddenly opened his eyes at dawn, and found himself laid out upon the funeral pyre. PLATO. As |