The Metamorphosis, or Golden Ass, and Philosophical Works, of Apuleius

a i. e. Greeks who philosophized in the highest perfection ; for such men are called by Plato, in the Thesetetus, Coryphsean philosophers. But the Greeks I allude to are, Plotinus, Porphyry, Iamblichus, Syrianus, Proclus, Damascius, and Olympiodorus, whose invaluable writings, though but little known, and even despised, in this country, appear to be much esteemed on the continent. Hence, the celebrated Boissonade, professor of Greek in the University of Paris, and Victor Cousin, professor of philosophy in the same seminary, have recently published some works of Proclus, which before were only to be found in manuscript ; and the learned Creuzer, of Heidelberg, has published from manuscripts the Commentaries of Proclus and Olympiodorus on the First Alcibiades of Plato. Professor Morgenstern, also, of Dorpat in Livonia, and who is one of

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I N T HO D U CTI Ο N .

of the disciples of Plato, yet he will always maintain a very distinguished rank among those who

the counsellors of the Russian empire, has published elucidations of the Republic and other Dialogues of Plato. All these eminent men have done me the honour to speak in the handsomest manner of my Platonic literary labours.

The publication and elucidation of all the works that remain of the above-mentioned incomparable Greeks, will form a new and most important era in philosophy ; and will contribute, more than any thing else, to prevent the circulation of the stupid and false accounts of the heathen theology and mythology, and of many other fungous and frivolous productions, under which the European press in general, and particularly that of England, at present groans.

The celebrated Franciscus Patricius was so fully convinced of the inestimable value of the writings of these men, that, in the preface to his Latin translation of the Theological Elements of Proclus*, a book at present uncommonly rare, and printed at Ferraria, 1583, he says, “ Extant tamen in hoc Platonic® philosophise genere etiarn Hermise, qui fuit Amtnonii pater, com mentaria elegantissima in Phaedrumt, necnon Olympiodori, cujusdam long& doctissimi, excerpta qusedam ex ejus Commentariis in Phsedonem ac Philebum, et integra in Gorgiam. Sed omnium eminentissim®, Damascii Qu®stiones de principi is rerum sunt. Qu® omnia si publice viserentur, ardentissimos divin® sapienti® amores excitarent, in iis pectoribus, qu® non argutandi causa, sed modo hoc unum, ut sapiant philosophi® operam navant. Qu®, si aliquando viri alicujus vere viri, opere quamvis labo-

The very learned Creuzer has recently given a new and most excellent edition of the original Greek of this work, franco!. 1822. 8vo.

f These Commentaries, or rather Scholia, were published by Frederic Ast, in 8vo. Lipsiae, 1810.

have delivered to us the more accessible parts of that philosophy with consummate eloquence, and an inimitable splendour of diction.

rioso, glorioso tamen in lucem prodeant, apparebit tandem, quanta sapientise pars tenebris obruta jaceat, dum usitatam hanc in scholis solam sequimur, et amamus sapientiam.” i. e. “ There are also extant, in this kind of Platonic philosophy, the most elegant Commentaries of Hermias, the father of xVmmonius, on the Phsedrus, and likewise certain excerpta from the Commentaries of the very learned Olympiodorus on the Phsedo and Philebus, and his entire Scholia* on the Gorgias of Plato. But, among all these, the Inquiries of Damascius concerning the principles of things , are the most eminent. All which, if they were published, would excite the most ardent love of divine wisdom in the breast of those who apply themselves to philosophy, not for the sake of disputing, but for this one thing alone, that they may become wise. And if at any time these should proceed into light, through the laborious, but yet glorious efforts of some one, who will be a man in reality, it will at length be seen how great a part of wisdom lies buried in darkness, while we alone pursue and love this [modern] wisdom to which we are accustomed, and which is taught in the schools.”

For information respecting two of the above-mentioned publications, I refer the reader to my notice of Professor Cousin’s edition of the two first books of Proclus on the Parmenides, in No. 48 of the Classical Journal, and to my observations in Nos. 49 and 50 of the same Journal, on Cousin’s and Creuzer’s edition of Proclus on the First Alcibiades of Plato. And, in the

Patricius calls these Commentaries ; but they are merely Scholia , made most probably by some disciple of Olympiodorus, from the Commentaries of that philosopher on the Gorgias.

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Of his life b, scarcely any thing more of importance is known, than the particulars respecting himself which may be collected from his works, and these are as follow: He lived in the second century, about the time of Antoninus Pius, and was a native of Madaura, a Roman colony in Africa, and hence, in his Apology, he calls himself a semi-Gaetulian and a semi-Numidian, because the place of his birth was situated on the very coniines of Numidia and Gaetulia. His family was of considerable rank; for his father, whose name was Theseus, had exercised at Madaura the office of duumvir, which was the first dignity of a colony ; and his mother, whose name was Salvia, was originally of Thessaly, and descended from the family of Plutarch. He appears to have been well instructed in all the liberal disciplines of the Greeks, to have been graceful in his person, and to have abounded in wit and learning. Hence, speaking of his literary attainments, he says, in his Florida0, “ The first

last place, I refer the Platonic reader to my translation of the works of Plato, in the notes on which he will find very copious extracts from all the writings which Patricius has above so justly celebrated.

b In this sketch of the life of Apuleius, I have availed myself of all the most interesting particulars collected by Bayle, in his excellent Dictionary.

c “ Prima cratera litteratoris ruditatem eximit; secunda grammatici doctrina instruit ; tertia rhetoris elocjuentia armat.

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cup of knowledge which we receive from our preceptors removes entire ignorance ; the second furnishes us with grammatical learning ; the third arms us with the eloquence of the rhetorician. Thus far many drink. * But I drank of other cups besides these at Athens ; of poetry, the fabulous ; of geometry, the limpid ; of music, the sweet ; oi dialectic, the rough and unpleasant ; and of universal philosophy, the never-satiating and nectar eo us cup.”

He studied first at Carthage, then at Athens, and afterwards at Rome, where he acquired the Latin tongue without any assistance, as he himself informs us at the beginning of his Metamorphosis. An ardent desire of becoming acquainted with all the arcana of philosophy, and ail the mysteries of religion, induced him to make several voyages, and enter himself into several religious fraternities. He spent nearly the whole of his estate in travelling; so that, having returned to Rome, and being desirous of dedicating himself to the service of Osiris, he wanted money to defray the expense of the ceremonies of his reception. Hence he was under the necessity of

Hactenus a plerisque potatur. Ego et alias crateras Athenis bibi; poeticse commentam, geometrise limpidam, musicse dulcem, dialectics austemlam, enimvero universse philosophise inexplebilem, scilicet nectaream.”

X

parting with his clothes to make up the requisite sum. After this he procured the means of subsistence by pleading ; and, through his eloquence and skill, was not in want of causes, some of which were of great importance. He restored his fallen fortune, however, much more by a lucky marriage than by forensic harangues. A widow, whose name was Pudentilla, neither young nor fair, but who stood in need of a husband, and had a good estate, thought Apuleius adapted to her purpose. The accuser of Apuleius, as we learn from the Apology, affirmed she was sixty years of age ; but his design in asserting this was to prove, that the passion she had conceived for the accused was not natural, but the effect of magic. Apuleius made it appear, that she was not much above forty years of age, and that if she had passed fourteen of those years in a state of widowhood, it was not from any aversion to matrimony, but from the opposition of her father-in-law to it ; and that at length celibacy had so far impaired her health, that the physicians and midwives were of opinion, that the best remedy for the diseases which were the consequence of it was wedlock. The argument employed by Apuleius on this occasion was, that a lady so advised, and who had no time to lose, if she desired to make the best use of her teeming years, wanted

XI

not to be constrained by magic art to make choice of a spouse d. This rich widow Apuleius cheerfully married, at a country house near Oea, a maritime town of Africa. This marriage involved him in a troublesome lawsuit ; the relations of this lady’s two sons pretending that he had employed magic to possess himself of her money and her heart. Hence they acpused him of being a wizard, before Claudius Maximus, the proconsul of Africa. From this charge he defended himself with great ability and vigour, as is evident from the Apology, that is still extant, which he delivered before his judges.

He was also extremely laborious, and wrote many books, some in verse, and others in prose ; of which but a small part has escaped the ravages of time. Hence, in his Apology, in answer to his adversary, on the subject of eloquence, he says :

d “ Eo scrupulo liberata, cum a principibus viris in matrimonium peteretur; decrevit sibi diutius in viduitate non permanendum. Quippe ut solitudinis tsedium perpeti posset, tamen segritudinem corporis ferre non poterat. Mulier sancte pudica, tot annis viduitatis sine culpa, sine fabula, absuetudine conjugis torpens, et dilitino situ viscerum saucia, vitiatis intends uteri, saepe ad extremum vitae discrimen doloribus obortis exanimabatur. Medici cum obstetricibus consentiebant, penuria matrimonii morbum qusesitum. Malum indies augeri, segritudinem ingravescere : dum setatis aliquid supersit, nuptiis valetudinem medicandam.” Apolog. p. 318.

I NTRODUCTION.

“ As to elocjuence, if ever I had any, it ought not to appear to be either wonderful or odious, if, having from my youth to this time strenuously applied myself to the study of literature, spurning all other pleasures, with greater labour, perhaps, than was ever employed by any other man, by day and by night, I have endeavoured to obtain it, with the contempt and loss of my health c.” He delighted in making public speeches, in which he gained the applause of ail his auditors. When they heard him at Oea, the audience unanimously exclaimed, that he ought to be honoured with the freedom of the city f. The people of Carthage, on hearing him harangue, erected a statue of him, as a testimony of their esteem of his talents ; and he was honoured in the same way by other cities2. It is said by Sidonius Apollinaris, that his wife held the candle to him while he studied11; “ but this/ says Bayle, “ must not, I think, be

e “ De eloquentia vero, si qua mihi fuisset, neque mirum neque invidiosum deberet videri, si ab ineunte aevo unis studiis jiterarum ex summis viribus deditus, omnibus aliis spretis voluptatibus, ad hoc aevi, baud sciam anne super omneis homines impenso labore, diuque noctuque, cum despectu et dispendio bonae valetudinis, earn quaesissem.” Apolog. p. 276.

h “ Legentibus meditantibusque candelas et candelabra tenuerunt.” Sidon. Apollin. Epist. X. 1. 2.

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taken literally, it is rather a figure of Gallic eloquence.”

It has been above observed, that he wrote many books. Indeed, it may be said, as Bayle remarks, that he was an universal genius, as there are but few subjects which he has not handled. Hence, he translated the Phcedo of Plato, and the Arithmetic of Nicomachus . He wrote a treatise De Republica, another De Numeris , and another De Musica. His Table- Questions are quoted, and also his Letters to Cerellia, his Proverbs, his Her - magoras, and his Ludicra . This last work he mentions himself : <£ They read,” says he, “ in my Ludicra, a short epistle in verse, concerning a powder for the teeth1.”

The works of Apuleius which have escaped the ravages of time are, his Metamorphosis, or, as it is generally called, the Golden Ass, in eleven books ; his treatises of Natural and Moral Philosophy; of the Categoric Syllogism ; and of the

“ Legerunt έ Ludicris meis epistolium de dentificio versibus scriptural.” Apolog. p. 276. The following works also, which Bayle has omitted to notice, and which are not now extant, are cited as the productions of Apuleius, viz. Epigrammata multa, Amatoria, Gryphi, de Arboribus, Medicinalium Qusestionum, Naturalium Queestionum, Carmen in Orfitum, de Piscibus, Dissertatio de dEsculapio, Epitome Historiarum, Hymnus et Dialogus in iEscuiapium, and Oratio pro statua sibi Oese locanda.

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1 NT110DUCTI0N.

God of Socrates , a translation of all which is now presented to the public. And besides this there are extant, his Apology , his Florida , and his treatise I)e Mundo, which is nothing more than a translation from the Greek of a treatise with the same title which is generally ascribed to Aristotle1". The Latin translation also of the Asclepian Dialogue of Hermes Trismegistus, is attributed to Apuleius ; and though it is entirely destitute of that splendour of diction which so eminently distinguishes the writings of our author, yet it is not improbable that it is one of his productions ; since a translator, if he is faithful, will not only give the matter, but the manner also of his original.

With respect to the treatises translated in these volumes, the Metamorphosis is the most celebrated of all the works of Apuleius. A great part of this fable may be said to be a paraphrase of the Ass of Lucian, which was originally derived

I

from a work of Lucius Patrensis, who wrote in Greek, and was of Patrse, a city of Achaia. The most important parts however of the Metamorphosis, viz. the fable of Cupid and Psyche, and the eleventh book, in which Apuleius gives an account of his being initiated in the mysteries

k This treatise I have translated in vol. ix. of my translation of Aristotle’s works.

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of Isis and Osiris, are not derived from any sources with which we are at present acquainted1.

I call these the most important parts, because in the former, as it appears to me, the very ancient dogma of the pre-existence of the human soul, its lapse from the intelligible world to the earth, and its return from thence to its pristine state of felicity, are most accurately and beautifully adumbrated111. This I have endeavoured to prove in the notes which accompany the translation of this fable. And as to the eleventh book, though the whole of the Metamorphosis is replete with elegance and erudition, yet this book excels all the rest, in consequence of containing many important historical particulars, and many which are derived from the arcana of Egyptian philosophy and religion. What he says about his initiation into the mysteries in particular, is . uncommonly interesting and novel.

Dr. Warburton formed an opinion of the design of the Metamorphosis, which, in one part of it

' Unless Apuleius borrowed the fable of Cupid and Psyche from Aristophantes Atheneeus, of whom Fulgentius, in book ii. of his Mythologicon, says : “ Aristophantes Atheneeus in libris qui Dyserestia nuncupantur, hanc fabulam enormi verborum circuitu discere cupientibus prodit.” No mention is made of this Aristophantes Athenseus by either Fabricius or Bayle.

Fulgentius interprets this fable differently, and in my opinion very erroneously. See his Mytholog. lib. ii.

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1 NiTRODUCTION.

at least, appears to me to be singularly ridiculous and absurd ; viz. that the author’s main purpose was to commend Pagan religion as the only cure for all vice whatsoever" ; and to ridicule the Christian religion. There may be some truth in the former part of this assertion ; but it is wholly incredible, that at a period when the Christian religion was openly derided and execrated by all the Heathens, Apuleius should have written a work one part of the intention of which was to ridicule latently that which, without any concealment, and with the sanction of the existing government, was generally despised0. One passage indeed occurs in which he speaks contemptuously of the Christians ; but then his meaning is so far from being latent, that it must be obvious to every one. The passage I allude to is the following in book the ninth, in which Apuleius, speaking of the nefarious wife of a baker, says of her : “ Then despising and trampling on the divine powers, instead of the true religion, counterfeiting a nefarious opinion of God, whom she asserted to

° Of this opinion of Dr. Warburton, the chancellor Mosheini observes : “ De Consilio vero Fabulie de Asino, quod commentationem Mysteriorum, et Christian® religionis contemptionem vir doctissimus esse conjicit, dubitare mihi liceat, quum nihil afferi videam ex ea, quod difficulter in aliam partem accipi possit.” Divine Legation, vol. i. p. 365.

XVII

be the only deity p; devising also vain observances, and deceiving all men, and likewise her miserable husband, she enslaved her body to morning draughts of pure wine, and to continual adultery9.” In the tenth book also, he denominates a most execrable character cruciarius , which according to Plautus signifies discipulus crucis , a disciple of the cross ; and perhaps in thus denominating this murderer, he intended to signify that he was a Christian ; but there are no other parts of this work in which there is a shadow of probability that Apuleius had the Christian religion in view ; except it should be said that he alludes to it, when in the eleventh book he calls the heathen the most pure , magnificent , and eternal religion .

"What then was the real design of Apuleius

in composing this work? Shall we say, with Macrobius, that Apuleius sometimes diverted

himself with the tales of lover, and that this is

p viz. She asserted that there was one supreme God, the maker of the world; but denied the existence of other Gods, who according to the heathen theology proceed from, and are eternally rooted in the first God.

q Tunc spretis atque calcatis divinis numinibus, in vicem certse religionis mentita sacrilega prsesumptione Dei, quern prsedicaret unicum, confictis observationibus vanis, fallens omnes homines, &c.

XV111 INTRODUCTION.

a kind of fable which professes only to please the ear, and which wisdom banishes from her temple to the cradles of nurses ? This, however, is by no means consistent with that dignity and elevation of mind which are essential to the character of a Platonic philosopher. Is it not therefore most probable that the intention of the author in this work was to show that the man who gives himself to a voluptuous life, becomes a beast, and that it is only by becoming virtuous and religious, that he can divest himself of the brutal nature, and be again a man ? For this is the rose by eating which Apuleius was restored to the human, and cast off the brutal form ; and, like the moly of Hermes, preserved him in future from the dire enchantments of Circe, the Goddess of Sense8. This, as it appears to me, is the only design by which our author can be justified in composing the pleasing tales with which this work is replete. Indeed, unless this is admitted to have been the design of Apuleius, he cannot in certain passages be defended from the charge of lewdness ; but on the supposition that these tales were devised to show the folly and danger of lasciviousness, and that the man who indulges in it brutalizes his nature, the detail

s See my explanation of the Wanderings of Ulysses, in the notes accompanying the translation of Porphyry de Antro Nympharum, in my Proclus on Euclid.

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of those circumstances through which he became an ass, are not to be considered in the light of a lascivious description, because they were not written with a libidinous intention ; for every work is characterized by its ultimate design1.

1 Not only Apuleius, but Plato also, will be accused of obscenity by those who overlook the intention of the ancient philosophers in some of their writings, and who measure the masculine vigour of the minds of these heroes by the effeminacy of their own. Hence, one Nicholson, in p. 44 of his Conference with a Deist, says, “ A man finds in the Pheedrus of Plato, so much of the ΐξων and εξωμενος, with such odd allusions to that execrable vice, that one had need of very virtuous thoughts, and a very charitable mind, to allegorize all the strange metaphors of that discourse into a chaste meaning.” And Sydenham omitted to publish his translation of the speech of Alcibiades in the Banquet of Plato, because he conceived “ some part of it to be so grossly indecent that it might offend the virtuous and encourage the vicious.” In defence, therefore, of both these writings, I shall only repeat what I have said in the Introductions to my translations of them, “ that though there are frequent allusions in the Pheedrus to that unnatural vice which was so fashionable among the Greeks, yet the reader will find it severely censured in the course of that dialogue by the divine philosopher. There can be no reason to fear, therefore, that the ears of the modest will be shocked by such allusions, since they are inserted with no other view than that they may be exploded as they deserve.” And with respect to the speech of Alcibiades, it is one of the most essential parts of the Banquet, because the intention of Plato in it was to exemplify in the character of Socrates, as one who had been initiated in the mysteries of love, that perfection of virtue which such an initiation is capable of effecting. Hence, as it is demonstrated in the notes, the apparent indecency in this speech is introduced conformably to the machinery of the mys-

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Hence, what Iamblichusu says respecting the consecration of the phalli among the ancients in the spring, and the obscene language which was then employed, may be said in defence of these passages in the Metamorphosis: viz. “ The powers of the human passions that are in us, when they are entirely restrained, become more vehement; but when they are called forth into energy, gradually and commensurately, they rejoice in being moderately gratified, are satisfied ; and from hence, becoming purified, they are rendered tractable, and are vanquished without violence. On this account, in comedy and tragedy, by surveying the passions of others, we stop our own passions, cause them to be more moderate,

and are purified from them. In sacred ceremonies,

likewise, by certain spectacles and auditions of things base, we become liberated from the injury which happens from the works effected by them. Things of this kind, therefore, are introduced for the sake of our soul, and of the diminution of the evils which adhere to it through generation, and of a solution and liberation from its bonds. On

teries, with no other view than to purify the reader from every thing indecent, and to liberate him, in short, from vulgar love, by exciting the amatory eye of intellect to the vision of objects ineffably beautiful and truly divine.”

translation of that work.

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this account, also, they are very properly called by Heraclitus remedies , as healing things of a dreadful nature, and saving souls from the calamities with which the realms of generation are replete.” Notwithstanding, however, there is no real lasciviousness in these passages, yet as the generality of readers in the present age would, on the perusal of them, fancy that there is, they are not published in the following translation of this work.

With respect to the treatises of Natural and Moral Philosophy, they may be considered as a good epitome of the physiology and ethics of Plato; certain parts of those sciences being excepted, the depths of which Apuleius had not fathomed, in consequence, as I before observed, of the more abstruse dogmas of Plato not havingbeen developed at the time in which he lived. And his treatise on the Categoric Syllogism is a useful introduction to the logic of Aristotle. The treatise on the God of Socrates is on the whole an admirable work, and contains some things of a most interesting and remarkable nature, as I have shown in the notes which accompany the translation of it.

In translating these treatises, I have endeavoured to be as faithful as possible, and to give

the manner as well as the matter of the author ;

since a translation in which both these are not

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1 NT R. ODUC T ION.

generally united, must necessarily, as I have already observed, be essentially defective. I have also availed myself of the best editions of the works of Apuleius, and among these, of the Delphin edition, which I think is excellent on the whole, though the editor frequently in his interpretation substitutes other words for those of the original when this is not necessary. There is an ancient translation into English of the Metamorphosis by one Adlington, the first editions of which were printed in 1566 and 1571, and the last edition in 1639; and there are other intermediate editions ; but as he every where omits the most difficult, and the most elegant passages, his work is rather a rude outline or compendium than an accurate translation. Bayle does not appear to have been acquainted with this work of Adlington; but of the French versions he observes as follows : “ I have never met with any modern French translation of the Golden Ass. If I am not mistaken, John Louveau is the author of the first old translation. La Croix du Maine mentions it, without setting down the year in which it appeared. He only says that it was printed at Lyons. It was reprinted at Paris by Claudius Micard, in 1584. One I. de Montlyard published a translation of the same book, with a commentary. One of the two editions which I have seen, was according to

the copy printed at Paris, by Samuel Thiboust, 1623. The preface is long, and contains a criticism on several errors of John Louveau.

“ I find that La Croix du Maine, and du Verdier Vau-Privas, have mentioned a translation, which may very well be older than that of John Louveau. They say that George de la Bouthiere, or de la Boutier, a native of Autun, rendered the Metamorphosis or Golden Ass of Apuleius into French. The one says, that this version was printed at Lyons, by John de Tournes and William Gazeau, in the year 1553: the other, that it was printed by John de Tournes, in 1516. There is an error of the press in the last date ; and it is evident, that to put the figures in their right places, it ought to be 1556. Now, as the same author has said, that the translation by John Louveau was printed in the year 1558, there is reason to suppose that it was later than that of George de la Bouthiere.

“ Since the first edition of this Dictionary, part of a translation of the Golden Ass has appeared at Paris. The Journal de Scavans of the 9th of January, 1696, mentions it. Mons. the Baron des Coutures published with notes, in 1698, his French version of the treatise de Deo SocratisV’

I have not consulted any of these translations, because I have no knowledge of the French tongue.

XXIV

I shall conclude with observing, that I trust the readers of this work will candidly peruse it, as one labour more, among many of no common magnitude, of a man who has spent the far greater part of his life in endeavouring to obtain himself a knowledge of the philosophy of Plato, and to elucidate and promulgate it for the benefit of others : who also, in accomplishing this, has had to encounter the hiss of Envy, and the bite of Detraction, the laugh of Folly, and the sneer of Contempt, unmerited unkindness, and unfeeling neglect, together with domestic ills of an overwhelming nature, and of the rarest occurrence. In short, the present translation is the work of a man whose life has been most eventful and singularly disastrous, a few splendid circumstances excepted, which have illuminated and enlivened the oppressive gloom of Adversity like “ a sun-beam in a winter’s day,” and which, whenever he may deem it expedient to give the detail of his literary career to the public, he will most gladly and gratefully record.

BOOK THE FIRST.

I n the following Milesian a narration, I will insert various fables, and charm your benevolent ears with an elegant and pleasing murmur ; if you will not disdain to look into this Egyptian papyrus, written with the delightful subtilty of a Nilotic reed ; and containing an admirable account of men changed into different forms, and, by certain vicissitudes, again restored to themselves. But who I am, I shall briefly thus unfold :

The Attic Hvmettusb, the Corinthian Isthmus, and the Spartan Tsenamsc, happy soils, and which, in more felicitous books, were believed to be eternal, are the ancient originals of my race. There, I mean in Athens, I learnt the first rudiments of Grecian literature. Soon after, as a stranger, 1 came to Rome, and applied myself to the study of the Roman tongue, which, with great labour, I attained to the knowledge of, without the

a The Milesians were a people of Ionia, abounding in merriment and luxury. Hence a Milesian narration signifies a narration facetious and jocose.

0 A mountain of Attica, famous for marble and honey, and especially the latter.

c Cape Metapan, a promontory of Peloponnesus. It divides the gulf of Messenia from that of Laconia, now the gulf of Coron and Colochino, at the foot of the mountain of the Mainots, the most southern part of the Morea.

B

T1IE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

assistance of a preceptor. Behold, then, I solicit pardon, if I should offend the reader by the rude utterance of a foreign language. Indeed, this first attempt of mine to write in the Latin tongue, corresponds to the desultory matter of which we have undertaken to treat. We will begin, therefore, to narrate a Grecian fable : reader, attend, and you will be delighted.

I wrent to Thessaly on business : for in that place the foundations of our origin on the maternal side wrere laid by the illustrious Plutarch, and afterwards by his nephew, Sextus d, the philosopher, and thus became the source of renown to us. After, therefore, I had passed over the lofty mountains, the slippery valleys, the dewy turf, and the glebous plains, being very weary with riding ; for I rode on a Thessalian white horse, who w7as also very much fatigued ; in order that I might shake off my sedentary lassitude by the refreshment of walking, I leaped from my horse, diligently wiped the sweat from his forehead, stroked his ears, drew the reins over his head, and wralked him gently, so that the usual and natural aid afforded by the discharge of urine might relieve the inconvenience of weariness. And wrhile he wras delighted with his ambulatory breakfast, and in a prone position passed over the meadows with his mouth inclined towards his side, I joined myself to two companions, who were riding a little before me. And while I listened to their conversation, the one, laughing, said to the other, Desist, and do not enter into any further detail of such absurd and incredible fictions. On hearing this, as I was thirsty after novelty, I said, Make me a partaker of your narration ; not that I am inquisitive, but one who washes to know either all, or certainly most things ; and, by so doing, the delightful pleasantness of tales will, at the same time, smooth the asperity of the hill wThich we are ascending.

d This Sextus, who was the grandson of Plutarch, was also the preceptor of the emperor Antoninus Pius.

GOLDEN" ASS, QY AFULEIUS.

But he that laughed before at his companion, said, “ That false narration of yours is as true, as if some one should assert, that by magical incantation rapid rivers might be made to run back to their source, the sea be congealed, the winds blow without spirit, the sun be stopped in his course, the moon drop her foam, the stars be plucked from their spheres, the day be taken away, and the night be held back6. On hearing this, I said, Do not you, who began the narration, repent of having done so, or be weary of telling what remains to be told ! And turning to the other ; But you, said I, whose ears are gross, and whose mind is obstinate, refuse your assent to things which, perhaps, are truly narrated. For, indeed, you are not aware, that, through depraved opinions those things are thought to be false, which either appear novel to the hearing, or rare to the sight, or arduous from being beyond the reach of thought ; but which, if you a little more accurately explored, you would not only find to be evident, but would perceive may be easily accomplished.”

At length in the evening, while 1 was endeavouring, in the company of certain voracious guests, to bite a larger piece of a cake consisting of barley flour and cheese, I was nearly choked, through the softness of the glutinous food sticking in my jaws, and impeding the egress of my breath. Nevertheless, lately at Athens, before the porch called Facile f, I beheld with both my eyes a juggler, who swallowed a two-handed horseman’s sword that had a very sharp edge, and afterwards, for a small sum of money, buried in his lowest viscera a hunting spear, and so as to have that part of it downward which threatens destruction. And lo ! the iron head of

e See a very curious account of the magic of the ancients, from a rare Greek manuscript of Psellus, in p. 220 of my translation of Iamblichus on the Mysteries.

f i. e. Various. This porch was adorned with various pictures, the works of Polygnotus and Mycon. Among others, the Marathonian battle was to be seen painted in this porch.

the spear having passed through the groin, and being forced out again through the hinder part of the head, an effeminately beautiful boy was seen dancing on the other extremity of the spear. This boy, in dancing, turned and twisted himself as if he had been without nerves and bones, to the admiration of all that were present ; so that you would have said it was the noble serpent, which adheres with slippery embraces to the half-amputated branches of the knotted staff of the medical god.

But I entreat you, said I to him who began the tale, to continue it. I alone will give credit to your narration, and will treat you with a dinner at the first inn at which we arrive. This shall be your reward. To which he replied, “ I take in good part what you promise, and will proceed with my narration. But prior to this, I will swear to you by this sun, the all-seeing God, that what I shall relate is true. Nor will you any longer doubt that it is so, if you go to the next city, which is Hypatag ; for there the things which were openly transacted, are every where divulged. But that you may first knowr who I am, from what race I am descended, and in quest of what gain I am now going, hear. I am of AEgina, and am travelling through Thessaly, yEtolia, and Boeotia, for the purpose of procuring honey, cheese, and other articles of traffic of the like kind. Having found, therefore, that in Hypata, which is the principal city of all Thessaly, new cheese of an excellent flavour was to be sold for a very reasonable price, I hastily betook myself to that place, in order to buy the whole of it. As it· often happens, however, I came in an evil hour, and was frustrated of my hopes of gain. For one Lupus, a great purveyor, had bought all of it the day before.

" Being weary, therefore, through an inefficacious celerity, I then went, the evening commencing, to the public baths. When, lo ! I beheld my companion Socrates,

£ Λ city of Thessaly, situated near the river Spercfiius.

sitting on the ground, half covered with a torn and coarse mantle, and who appeared to be almost another person, he was so deformed by paleness and miserable leanness ; for he resembled one of those who, being reduced to the extremity of distress, are compelled to beg in the streets. Hence, though he had been my guest, and was well known to me, yet I approached him with a dubious mind. Alas ! my Socrates, I said, what is the meaning of this ? What a figure ! What crime have you committed ? Great lamentation and weeping are made for you at home. Tutors are given to your children by a decree of the provincial magistrate. Your wife, having performed the duties which are due to the dead, and being deformed by grief and longcontinued sorrow, so that she had almost lost her sight through excessive weeping, has been compelled by her parents to exhilarate herself by the joys of a new marriage. But here you present yourself to the view the resemblance of some wicked ghost, to our great disgrace.

“ To this he replied, O Aristomenes, you are ignorant of the slippery turnings and windings, the unstable incursions, and the reciprocal vicissitudes of Fortune. And immediately after he had thus spoken, he covered his face, which had been for some time red through shame, with his ragged and coarse mantle, so that the rest of his body, from his navel downward, was rendered naked. But I, not enduring to behold such a miserable spectacle of infelicity, extended my hand to him, that I might help him to rise from the ground. He, however, with his head covered as it was, said. Suffer, O suffer Fortune still longer to enjoy the trophy which she has suspended. I have acted in such a way that this must follow. And at the same time I put off one of my two old garments, and speedily — clothed, shall I say, or covered him ? Immediately after, I brought him to a bath, anointed, and wiped him, and laboriously rubbed off the enormous filth with which he was defiled. Having also well attended to him, and being weary myself, I supported him, who

G

was fatigued, with great difficulty, and brought him to my inn ; where I refreshed him with a bed, satisfied him with food, mitigated his sorrows with wine, and soothed him by fabulous narrations. And now our conversation and jests tended to hilarity, and we were not only facetious, but noisy ; when he, painfully and profoundly sighing, and striking his forehead with bis indignant right hand, exclaimed as follows.

“ Miserable creature that I am! said lie; who, while I was intent on gratifying myself with the sufficiently celebrated spectacle of gladiators, have fallen into these calamities. For, as you wTell know, when I w7ent to Macedonia for the sake of gain, and was there detained for the space of ten months ; on my return from thence, enriched by merchandise, and a little before I came to Larissa'1, in order to see the above-mentioned spectacle,

I wTas attacked by a band of most desperate robbers, in a certain devious and winding valley : from whom, however, after having been plundered by them of all my property, I at length escaped. And being through this reduced to extreme distress, I betook myself to a certain woman that sold wine, whose name wras Meroe, and who, though old, was very pleasant and agreeable : and to her 1 unfolded the causes of my long peregrination, of my anxiety to return home, and of my being plundered of my property on that day.

“ And while I, miserable man, narrated such particulars as I remembered, she, beginning to treat me very humanely, supplied me with an agreeable and gratuitous supper, and afterwards received me to her bed, through the instigation of lust. At the same time also, that I, unhappy man, lay wTith her, I contracted a lasting pestilence [viz. a most baneful love] from only being once connected with her : and even gave her those ragged garments wffiich the humane robbers had left me to

h A city of Thessaly, situated near the river Peneus, and the country cf Achilles. Hence he was called Larissacus.

cover my nakedness. I likewise presented her with the little gain which I obtained by making the short garments of soldiers while I was yet in a good condition of body ; and thus at length this good wife, and ill fortune, reduced me to that state in which you just now saw me.

“ You indeed, said I, deserve to suffer the most severe of ills, if yet there is any thing more extreme than that which is last, who have preferred venereal pleasure, and a wrinkled harlot, to your own house and children. But he, raising the finger next to the thumb to his mouth, and being struck with astonishment, Be silent, said he, be silent; and looking round to see whether he might speak with safety. Cease, said he, to revile a divine woman, lest you injure yourself by an intemperate tongue. Why so ? said I. What kind of woman is this powerful and royal tavern-keeper? He replied. She is a divine sorceress, and is able to draw down the heavens, to elevate the earth, to restrain fountains, to dissolve mountains, to place on high the shades of the dead, to thrust down the gods, extinguish the stars, and illuminate Tartarus itself.

“ I beseech you, said I, take away this tragic tapestry, roll up the theatric curtain, and speak in familiar language. Do you wish, said he, to hear one or two, or many of her deeds ? For she is capable not only of making her fellowcitizens to love her to their own destruction, but the Indians also, the inhabitants of both the Ethiopias1, and even the Antichthones k themselves, are only the leaves, as it were, of her art, and trifling examples of her skill.

Hear, however, what she accomplished in the presence of many spectators. She changed by one word

1 i. e. The eastern and the western, separated from each other by the river Nile, which the ancients (as we are informed by Strabo, Geograph, lib. ii.) considered as the boundary of Asia and Africa.

k So called, from inhabiting την εναντίαν χβονα , i. e. earth contrary to that on which we dwell. Hence they are either the same with the Antipodes, or, at least, are those who dwell in the inferior hemisphere which is contrary to ours.

only her lover into a beaver, who had by force debauched another woman ; because that beast, fearing lest it should be taken, frees itself from the hunter that pursues it, by the abscission of its testicles ; in order that the same thing might happen to her lover, in consequence of his having been connected with another female. She likewise changed into a frog an innkeeper, who was her neighbour, and of whom she was on that account envious ; and now that old man, swimming in a tub of his own wine, and merged in the dregs of it, calls on his ancient guests with a hoarse and courteously croaking voice.

“ She likewise changed one of the advocates of the court, because he had declaimed against her, into a ram ; and now that ram pleads causes. The same sorceress also condemned to perpetual pregnancy the wife of her lover, who was now parturient, by closing her womb, and retarding the egress of the infant, because she had reviled her somewhat severely. And, according to the computation of all men, the belly of the miserable woman has been distended for the space of eight years, as if she was about to be delivered of an elephant. As this [unfortunate] woman, however, and many others, had been frequently injured by her arts, the public indignation was excited against her ; and it was decreed, that on the following day she should be severely punished, by being stoned to death. But she frustrated this design by the power of her enchantments. And as Medea, having obtained by entreaty from Creon the space of one day, [prior to her, departure] burnt the whole of his palace, and also his daughter, together with the old man, with coronal flames [or flames at the top of the head] 1 ; thus, likewise, this sorceress, having performed certain

1 When Jason, having repudiated Medea, intended to have led away his wife Glauca, or, according to some authors, Creusa, the daughter of Creon, king of Corinth, Medea having obtained from Creon the space of one day, in order that she might prepare, as she said, for her departure, burnt the palace, together with Creon and the bride. See Seneca, in his Medea; Diodorus, Plinv, and Ilyginus.

deadly imprecations in a ditch, as she herself lately told me, enclosed all the inhabitants of the town in their own houses, by so great a power of incantations, that, for the space of two whole days, neither the bars of the doors could be broken, nor the gates be opened, nor the walls themselves be dug through ; till, by mutual consent, the people unanimously exclaimed, and swore in the most sacred manner, that they would not offer any violence to her, and would afford her salutary assistance, if any persons should attempt to injure her. Being, therefore, after this manner appeased, she liberated the whole city.

u At midnight, however, she conveyed the author of this conspiracy, with all his house, viz. with the walls, the ground, and the foundation, closed as it was, into another city, distant from thence a hundred miles, and situated on the summit of a lofty mountain, in consequence of which it was deprived of water. Because, likewise, the houses of the inhabitants were built so near to each other, that they did not afford any room to this new comer, she threw the house before the gate of the city, and departed. You narrate, said Ϊ, stupendous things, my Socrates, and such as are no less cruel than wonderful. And, in the last place, you have excited in me no small solicitude, or rather fear, (for you have thrown at me not a little sharp stone, but a spear,) lest that old woman, employing in a similar manner the assistance of some daemon, should know the whole of our present conversation. Let us, therefore, quickly betake ourselves to rest, and when we have lightened our lassitude by the refieshment of sleep, fly from hence as far as we can before the dawn of day.

While I was yet persuading the good man Socrates thus to act, he, being oppressed with unusual intoxication and lassitude, snored loudly. But I, after I had closed the door, secured it with bars, and placed my bed against the hinges of it, betook myself to rest. And at first, indeed, I remained for a short time awake through fear ; but. afterwards I closed my eyes a little about midnight.

“ I was scarcely, however, asleep, when the doors were suddenly opened with a force too great to induce any one to believe that this was effected by thieves ; and, besides this, the doors were hurled to the ground, the hinges being entirely broken and torn off. The bed, too, which was very short, deprived of one foot, and rotten, was thrown down with great violence ; and, falling so as to be reversed, covered and concealed me, who was rolled in it, and shaken off the bedstead to the ground. Then I perceived that certain affections of the mind were naturally excited by contrary causes. For as tears frequently proceed from joy ; thus, also, in that extreme fear, I could not refrain from laughing, on perceiving myself, from being Aristomenes, made a tortoise. And, while prostrate on the floor, and looking obliquely, I wait for the issue of this affair, being protected by the situation of the bed, I saw two women, of an advanced age, one of whom carried a lighted lamp, but the other a sponge, and a drawn sword. With these accoutrements they surrounded Socrates, who slept profoundly.

“ Then she who carried the sword said, This, O sister Panthia, is my dearly beloved Endymion, my Ganymede, who, both by day and by night, has made sport of my youth. This is he, who, despising my love, not only defames me by reproachful language, but also betakes himself to flight. But I, indeed, am deserted by the craft of this Ulysses, and, like another Calypso, am left to lament an eternal widowhood. Extending, likewise, her right hand, and» showing me to her Panthia; But this, said she, is his good counsellor Aristomenes, who was the author of this his flight, and now, near to death, lies prostrate on the ground with the bed upon him, and who likewise sees all these transactions, and thinks that he shall not be punished for the disgraceful things which he has said of me. I will take care, however, that he shall repent, though late, or rather presently, or even now, of his former defamation, and his present curiosity. On hearing this, I, miserable man, felt all

my members in a cold sweat, and my bowels began to shake with fear ; so that the bed also being agitated and restless, leaped up and down on my back through my palpitation.

c* But O sister, said the good Panthia, shall we first dilacerate this man after the manner of the Bacchse11*, or, binding his limbs, shall we amputate his genital parts? To this Meroe replied; for I then perceived that her name accorded in reality with the narrations of Socrates: Bather let him live, in order that he may cover with a little earth the body of this miserable creature [Socrates.] And immediately after, having moved the head of Socrates to the other side, she plunged the whole of the sword into his body up to the hilt, through the left part of the neck, and diligently received the emission of the blood in a small vessel placed under it, so that no drop of it might ever be perceived. These things I beheld with my own eyes. The good Meroe, however, inserting her right hand through the wound, as far as to the most inward parts of the body, and exploring them ; lest (as I think) she should at all deviate from the rites pertaining to a victim ; drew out the heart of my unhappy companion ; while he in the interim, his windpipe being cut by the force of the sword, emitted through the wound a voice, or rather a stridulous uncertain sound, and, with the bubbles of blood, poured forth his soul. But Panthia stopped the whole orifice of the wound with a sponge, and said, Beware, O sponge, born in the sea, that you do not pass through a river. Having thus said, and lifted my bed from the ground, they entirely drenched me with the moisture of the most filthy urine.

“ Afterwards, they had scarcely passed over the threshold, wdien the doors rose again entire to their pristine state ; the hinges settled in their receptacles ; the bars

m i. e. As the Baccbas formerly dilacerated Pantheus and Orpheus. See Ovid. Met am. lib. iii. and xi.

returned to the sides of the doors ; and the bolts to their cavities in the posts. But I, in the state in which I still was, prostrate on the ground, dismayed, naked, cold, and drenched in urine, like an infant that has recently emerged from the womb of its mother, and, besides this, half dead, or even surviving myself, and born again after my death, or rather a candidate for the cross, to which I was now destined ; said. What will become of me, when, in the morning, this my companion shall be found with his throat cut? To whom shall I appear to say what is probable, though I should speak the truth? For they will say, you ought at least to have called for assistance, if you, though so large a man, could not resist a woman. What ! was the throat of a man cut before your eyes, and yet you were silent? Why were you not slain at the same time? Why did outrageous cruelty spare you, who witnessed the murder, and suffer you to remain an indicator of the deed ? Because, therefore, you have escaped death, now return to it. These things I frequently revolved with myself, and the night verged towards day.

“ It appeared, therefore, to me to be best, to leave the inn privately before daylight, and to pursue my way, though with trembling steps. I take my bundle, put the key in the door, and draw back the bolts. But those good and faithful doors, which had been spontaneously opened during the night, were then scarcely, and with great labour, unfolded, by the frequent insertion of the key. And I then said, Soho, porter ! where are you? Open the door of the inn, as I wish to depart before the break of day. But the porter, who was lying on the ground behind the gate of the inn, and was even then half asleep, said, What are you, who would begin your journey at this hour of the night, ignorant that the roads are infested by robbers ? For, though you may wish to die, through the consciousness of some crime which you have committed, yet we have not the head of a gourd, that we shall die for you. Then said I, It

GOLDEN ASS, Ol· APULEIUS— BOOK I. 13

is nearly day ; and, besides, what can robbers take away from a traveller who is extremely poor ? Are you ignorant. O stupid man, that he who is naked cannot be plundered, even by ten athletoe ? To which the porter, weary, and half asleep, and turning himself on the other side, replied. How do I know, whether you have not killed your companion with whom you came hither yesterday in the evening, and that now you commit your safety to flio'ht ? For I remember, at that time, [«. e. at midnight] I saw Tartarus, which is at the extremity of the universe, and in it the dog Cerberus ready to devour

“ And I recollected, indeed, that the good Meroe did not spare my throat through pity, but cruelly reserved me for the cross. Returning, therefore, to my bedchamber, I deliberated with myself about a speedy kind of death ; but since fortune had supplied me with no other deadly weapon than my bed alone, I said, now, O bed, most dear to my soul, who hast endured with me so many sorrows, [this night] and who art conscious, and a witness of what has been transacted in the course of it, and whom alone, when I am accused, I can adduce in proof of my innocence, supply me, who am hastening to the realms beneath, with a salutary instrument of death. Having said this, I began to undo the rope with which the bed was corded, and having tied one end of it to a small beam which was under the window, and with the other made a sliding knot, I stood upon the bed, elevated to destruction, and put my head into the halter; but while with one foot I kicked away the prop by which I was supported, so that the rope, being strained about my throat, might, by the pressure of the weight, stop my breath ; the rope, which was both rotten and old, suddenly broke ; and I, violently descending from on high, fell upon Socrates, (for he lay near me) and, together with him, I was rolled on the ground.

“ And, lo ! at that very instant the porter rushed into the bedchamber, crying, with a loud voice, Where are

ΓΗ Κ METAMORPHOSIS, OR

you, that made such haste at midnight, and now lie snoring, rolled in the bed-clothes? At these words, Socrates rose first, whether awakened by my falling, or by the discordant vociferation of the porter, I know not ; and said, It is not without reason that all these hostlers are execrated. For this impertinently curious fellow', by his unseasonable intrusion, with an intention, I have no doubt, of stealing something, has roused me, though very weary, from a profound sleep, by his outrageous noise. [On hearing him say this,] I rose up, cheerful and glad ; and replete with unhoped for joy, I said. Behold, O most faithful porter, my companion, my father, and my brother, whom you, being intoxicated, falsely accused me of having; slain. And immediately after I embraced Socrates, and kissed him for joy; but he, being filled with the scent of the most filthy liquor with which those witches had infected me, vehemently spurned me from him. Take yourself from hence, said he, for you stink like the bottom of a privy; and he began mildly to inquire the cause of this fetid smell. But I, miserable man, having immediately devised an absurd tale, turned his attention to something else, and, taking him by the right hand, said. Let us go, and enjoy the pleasure of a morning walk. So I took my bundle, and having paid the innkeeper for our night’s lodging, wre departed.

We had not proceeded far, before every thing wTas refulgent through the rising of the sun ; and I curiously and diligently observed the neck of my companion, in that part in which I had seen the sw7ord plunged, and said to myself, O foolish man, you certainly have had a most absurd dream, because you have been overwhelmed with intoxication through wine. Behold, Socrates is entire, sound, and safe. W here is the wround? where the sponge ? and, in the last place, where is the scar, so deep, and so recent? Addressing myself also to him, I said, Skilful physicians are justly of opinion, that horrible and troublesome dreams are the consequence of

golden ass, of APULLIUS. — BOOK I.

the body being distended with food and wine ; for, because I drank too much wine yesterday evening, the rough night exhibited to me dire and truculent images, so that I still fancy myself to be sprinkled and defiled with human gore. To which he laughing replied. You are not sprinkled with gore, but with urine ; nevertheless my throat appeared to me also, in my sleep, to be cut : for I felt a pain? in my neck, and thought that my heart was plucked out : and even now my spirit fails me, my knees tremble, I stagger, and wish for some food to refresh my spirits. Behold, said I, a breakfast is ready prepared for you. And having said this, I took the scrip from my shoulders, and placed it on the ground, and hastily extended to him some cheese with bread. I also said, We will sit down near that plane tree ; which having done, I also took some bread and cheese from the same ssrip. And beholding him somewhat more intently, as he was greedily eating, I saw him become of a pale yellow colour. At length also his natural colour was so disturbed, that on imaging to myself, through fear, those nocturnal furies, the piece of bread which I had first taken, though it was very small, stuck in the middle of my throat, so that it could neither pass downward, nor return upward. For the frequency of our going together caused an accumulation of my fear ; for who would believe that one of two companions could be slain, without the fault of the other ?

“ He, however, after he had devoured a sufficient quantity of food, began to be impatiently thirsty, for he had greedily eaten a great part of a most excellent cheese ; and not far from the roots of the plane tree, a gentle river sluggishly flowed, after the manner of a stagnant marsh, and which in its colour emulated silver or glass. Lo ! said I, satiate yourself with the milk-white liquor of this fountain. He rose, and, being covered with his short cloke, inclined himself on his knees towards the more equable part of the bank, attempting, with great avidity, to drink the water. But he had scarcely touched the

J

topmost dew of it with the surface of his lips, when the wound of his throat opened into a deep cavity, and the sponge suddenly rolled out of it, accompanied by a small quantity of blood. Lastly, his body, being without life, had nearly fallen into the river ; but I, laying hold of one of his feet, drew it with great difficulty and labour to the upper part of the bank. And after I had lamented my unfortunate companion, ιψ much as the time would permit, I buried him in the sandy soil, which is eternally in the vicinity of the river. I also, trembling, and exceedingly fearing for myself, fled through various and inaccessible deserts ; and, as if guilty of homicide, having left my country and my home, and embraced a voluntary exile, 1 now dwell in Etolia, having there asrain entered into the connubial state. Thus far Aristornenes.

That companion, however, of his, who from the first rejected his narration with an obstinate incredulity, said, There is nothing more fabulous than this tale, and nothing more absurd than this he. And, directing his discourse to me : But you, said he, who are a man of a cultivated mind, as the form of your body and your dress indicate, do vou believe in this fable? To this I replied, I do not think there is any thing which may not be effected ; but all things happen to mortals according to the decrees of Fate. For many things usually happen to me and to you, and to all men, of an admirable nature, and almost incredible ; which, nevertheless, if narrated to an ignorant person, would lose their credibility. But 1, by Hercules, believe in what Aristomenes has said, and give him the greatest thanks, for having excited our attention by the pleasantness of a delightful tale ; and enabled me to accomplish a rough and long journey without weariness and labour. With which kindness 1 think that my horse also is much gratified, since I have been carried without fatigue even to the gate of the city, not on his back, but by my ears. And thus terminated our conversation and our journey; for

both my companions turned to the next villages on the left hand.

But I entered into the first inn which I perceived, and inquired of an old woman who kept a tavern, whether this was the city Hypata ; and she gave me to understand, by a nod, that it was. Do you know, I said, a certain person of the name of Milo, who is one of the principal men of the city ? At this question she laughed, and said, Milo is deservedly considered to be one of the first men who dwells out of the whole city, and out of the pomcerium. Jesting apart, I said, tell me, I beseech you, most excellent mother, what kind of man he is, and where he lives ? Do you see, said she, those last windows which outwardly look to the city, and that gate on the other side, which fronts the next street? There Milo dwells, who abounds in money, and is very opulent; but is extremely avaricious, and shamefully sordid. In short, he frequently employs himself in usury on a very large scale, receiving for this purpose pledges of gold and silver ; shut up in a little house, and always dwelling on his tarnished money, with a wife who partakes of his misery. Nor does he keep any one besides in his house, except one female servant ; and is always, when he walks abroad, habited like a mendicant.

To this I laughing replied. My Demeas has kindly and providently consulted for me, who has recommended me, in travelling to a foreign country, to such a man, with whom, while I stay, I shall have no occasion to fear clouds of smoke, or the smell of the kitchen. Having thus said, I proceeded a little farther, came to the gate, and knocked at the doors, which were strongly barred, at the same time calling to some one to open them. At length, a certain girl came forth, and said. Ho ! you who knock at our doors so violently, what is the kind of pledge on which you want to borrow money? Are you alone ignorant that we admit of no pawn, except it is either gold or silver? Predict better things, I said, and rather inform me, whether I shall find your master at

home ? He is, indeed, she replied ; hut what is the cause of this question ? I have brought a letter, I said, written to him by the Corinthian Demeas. . Wait for me, she said, in this very place, while I deliver your message to him. And immediately on saying this, having again fastened the doors, she went into the house. Returning from thence shortly after, and having opened the doors, she said, My master requests you to come in. I accordingly entered, and found him sitting on a very little bed, and just then beginning his supper. His wife sat at his feet, and before an empty table ; which showing to me, she said, Behold your entertainment. It is well, I said, and immediately I delivered [to Milo] the epistle of Demeas, which having hastily read, he said, I love my friend Demeas, who has procured for me such an illustrious guest. And having said this, he ordered his wife to depart, and desired me to sit in her place. Taking hold of my garment likewise, and drawing me, who was reluctant through modesty, Sit there, said he ; for through fear of robbers, we dare not procure for ourselves any seats, nor even as much furniture as is sufficient for domestic purposes. 1 did what he ordered me to do.

He then said, I may rightly conjecture, from the excellent form of your body, and from this virgin modesty, that you are sprung from an illustrious race. But my friend Demeas also asserts the same thing in his letter. I beseech you, therefore, not to despise the poverty of our little house. For, behold that little bedchamber contiguous to this room, and which is a decent receptacle, will be for your use. Do not therefore unwillingly take up your abode with us. For you will render our house more ample by deigning to dwell in it : and will, besides, procure for yourself no small renown, if, being content with a little house, you emulate the virtues of Theseus, the namesake of your father, who did not disdain the slender and poor cottage of the old woman Hecale. Then calling his maid-servant, he said, Fotis, take the baggage

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. —

of our guest, and faithfully place it in that bedchamber, and at the same time, bring quickly from the cellar oil to anoint him, a towel to wipe him, and other things useful for the same purpose, and conduct my guest to the neighbouring baths ; for he is weary through a journey sufficiently difficult and long. When I had heard these things, considering with myself the mode of living and the frugality of Milo, and wishing to conciliate myself to him in a still greater degree, I said, I am not at all in want of things of this kind, because I carry them with me in all my peregrinations. And as to the baths, I can easily inquire where they are. Do you, Fotis, take this money.» and procure for me hay and barley for my horse, who has so well conveyed me hither : for this is my principal concern.

When this was done, and my things were brought into that bedchamber, I proceeded towards the baths, but first went to the market in order to procure something for supper. There I saw a great quantity of fish to be sold, and having asked what was the price of them, and refused to give a hundred pieces of money, at which the fishmonger valued them, I bought them for twenty pence, immediately on departing from thence, Pytheas followed me, who had been a school-fellow of mine at Athens, who having at length recognised me, stopped me in a friendly manner, and having embraced and gently kissed me, said, O my Lucius, it is certainly a long time since I have seen you, as we have not met before since we left our master. But what is the cause of this your peregrination ? You will know, I said, to morrow. What, however, is the meaning of this ? I rejoice that you have obtained your wash. For Ϊ perceive the lictors and the fasces, and that your dress is such as perfectly becomes a magistrate. To this be replied, I am a prefect of the market and an edile, and if you wish to buy any food, I will take care that you shall have it at a reasonable price. But I signified to him that I could not avail myself of his kindness,

because I had already provided myself with a sufficient quantity of fish for supper.

But Pytheas beholding my basket, and shaking the fishes, in order that they might be more easily seen, said. What did you give for this refuse l I replied, I could scarcely obtain them from the fishmonger for twenty pence. Which when he had heard, taking hold of me by the right hand, he brought me back again to the market, and said. From which of these men did you buy this rubbish? 1 pointed out to him a little old man sitting in a corner, whom immediately rebuking in a most severe tone of voice, in consequence of his authority as an edile, Do you neither spare, said he, our friends, nor any strangers, that you sell trifling fish for so great a price, and thus have reduced this city, which is the flower of all Thessaly, to the form of a desert, and an inaccessible rock, through the dearness of provisions? But this conduct shall not remain unpunished. For I will now make you know how worthless men ought to be restrained by an edile. And having thrown my basket to the ground, he ordered one of his attendants to stand on the fishes, and trample them under his feet. With which severity of discipline my Pytheas being satisfied, and having persuaded me to depart, he said, I have sufficiently punished, O Lucius, this old man, by causing him to suffer so great a disgrace.

This being done, I betake myself to the baths, astonished and perfectly confounded ; perceiving myself to be at one and the same time deprived of my money and my supper, through the officiousness of my school-fellow. Having likewise washed myself, I returned to the house of Milo, and afterwards to my bedchamber. And lo ! the maid-servant Fotis said, Your host invites you to supper. But I, who already knew the parsimony of Milo, gently excused myself by saying, that I thought the fatigue of the journey was not to be removed by food, but by sleep. Milo however, on receiving this message, came himself to me, took hold of my hand, and kindly endeavoured to lead

me to supper. And while I delay and modestly resist, he said, You shall not depart from hence till you follow me- Accompanying likewise what he said with an oath, he drew me, who unwillingly complied with his pertinacity, to his bed. And when I was seated, he said. How is our friend Demeas ? Are his affairs prosperous ? Tell me likewise all that you know respecting his wife, children, and servants. He also more accurately inquired of me the causes of my journey, which after I had carefully narrated, he then asked me most particularly concerning my country, and the leading men in it ; and in the last place, he inquired about the prefect of it. But perceiving that I was weary from the molestation of so rough a journey, and also from the length of my narration, that my words were cut short in the midst through sleep ; and that lassitude occasioned me to speak indistinctly and to stutter, he at length permitted me to go to rest. I escaped, therefore, from the loquacious and hungry supper of the sordid old man, burdened with sleep, and not with dainties, having supped on tales alone. And returning to my bedchamber, I delivered myself to the wished-for rest.

BOOK THE SECOND.

Soon as, the night being dispersed, a new snna had made the day, emerging at the same time from sleep and my bed, being likewise anxious and above measure desirous of knowing what is rare and admirable, and recollecting that I was in the midst of Thessaly, where the genuine incantations of the magical art are reported to have originated by the unanimous consent of the whole earth; I diligently considered the several particulars of that narration of my excellent companion Aristomenes, which was occasioned by the proxirpity of this city Ilypata to Thessaly; though I was otherwise in suspense from the desire of seeing something wonderful, and my diligence in the investigation of it. Nor was there any thing in that city, which when I beheld, I could believe to be that which it really was. But I was induced to think, that every thing was transmuted into another form by magical incantation, so that the stones which I met with were hardened into that shape from men ; the birds which I heard singing, had once been in the human form, but were now invested with feathers, and that this was also the case with the trees which were clothed with leaves, and surrounded the pomcerium or precinct of the town ; and with the fountains of water, which devolved their streams from the liquefied bodies of men. I now likewise

a i. e. The rising sun.

expected to find that the statues and images would walk ; that the walls would speak ; that sheep and that kind of cattle would prophesy ; and that an oracle would suddenly be given from heaven itself, and the orb of the sun. Being thus astonished, or rather stupified with tormenting desire, finding no beginning, or even trace of the objects of my wish, I rapidly investigated every particular. Nevertheless, while, like one intoxicated, I wander through the whole town from one gate to another, I suddenly, and without knowing where Ϊ was, came to the market in which delicate provisions were sold.

There, as I was walking quickly, i overtook a certain woman who was surrounded with a great number of servants. Her ear-ring's and her garments were adorned with gold, in the former of which it was wreathed, and was woven in the latter, which demonstrated her to be a woman of the first rank. By her side there stood a very old man, who as soon as he saw me said. This, by Hercules, is Lucius, and at the same time he kissed me. Immediately after, he whispered in the ear of the woman something which I did not hear. Will you not, said he, approach and salute your parent?0 I dare not, I replied, salute a woman who is unknown to me. And immediately blushing, I stood still with my head inclined to the other side. But she, fixing her eyes upon me, said. Behold the generous offspring of his most chaste mother Salvia; and the other parts of his body, also, admirably and exactly correspond to each other. For his stature is graceful, his slenderness is succulent, his ruddiness is moderate, his hair is yellow and without affectation, his eyes are azure, but quick, and the sight of them is sharp and vigorous like that of an eagle; in short, he is every where comely, and his gait is decorous and artless.

She also added, I have nursed you, O Lucius, with

b Parent here is a term of love and veneration, but is not indicative of alliance.

THE METAMORPHOSIS, Oft

these my hands. And why should I not ? For I not only participated with your mother of the same blood, but also of the same education ; since we both originated from the lineage of Plutarch, have both of us sucked the milk of the same nurse, and have grown up together in the bonds of consanguinity ; and there is no difference between us, except that which arises from dignity. For the marriage of your mother was illustrious, but mine was obscure. I am that Byrrhsena, whose name you may perhaps recollect, because it was frequently celebrated among those by whom you were educated. Betake yourself therefore confidently to our place of abode, or rather to your own proper house. To this I replied, my bashfulness having been dissipated by the time which she consumed in speaking, Far be it from me, O mother, that I should desert my host Milo, without any just cause of complaint. But I will sedulously take care to do whatever can be done by me without violating the rites of hospitality. And as often as I have occasion to come this way, I will call upon you.

While wTe were engaged in this friendly altercation, [consisting of refusal on my part, and invitation on hers,] after we had proceeded a little farther, we came to the house of Byrrhsena. The court-yard was most beautiful, which supported statues of the goddess of Victory, raised on pillars, which were quadripartite in the several angles: [i. e. were extended into four parts.] The wings of the statues being stretched on each side without any motion of the rolling sphere, and decorating the unstable step of the dewy feet, made the images seem as if they were not fixed, but were really flying. Behold, too, Parian marble fashioned into a statue of Diana, was erected in the middle of the whole place. This image was perfectly splendid ; for the garment of the goddess appeared as if it was blown back by the wind, and she seemed as it were to run, and to oppose those that were entering into the house. It was also venerable on account of the majesty of the divinity which it represented. Dogs

stood on each side of the goddess, and these likewise were fashioned of marble. The eyes of these seemed to threaten, their ears were erect, their nostrils were open, and their mouths ferocious ; and if any barking had been heard from the neighbourhood, you would have thought it proceeded from the stony throats of the dogs. That also in which the excellent statuary had given the most consummate specimen of the carver’s art was this, that the dogs being erect, and with their breasts advanced, the hind feet stood still, but the fore feet seemed to run. Behind the goddess a rock rose, after the manner of a cavern covered with moss, grass, leaves, and sprigs ; in one place vines, and in another, shrubs flourishing from the marble. Within the rock the shadow of the goddess was resplendent from the brightness of the marble. In the extreme margin of the rock, apples and grapes hung exquisitely elaborated, which art, emulous of nature, represented similar to their exemplars. You would have thought that some of them might have been gathered for food, when Autumn, the giver of wine, had breathed on them the colour of maturity. And if you beheld in a prone position the fountains which, running under the feet of the goddess, vibrated in gentle waves, you would have thought that the clusters of grapes which hung from the vine, among other things in which they resembled reality, were also not destitute of mobility.

In the midst also of the stony leaves was a carved Actseon, looking behind him with prying eyes, and now invested with the brutal form of a stag ; and both in the marble and in the fountain he was seen to be expecting the coming of Diana to bathe. While attentively inspecting these works of art, I was exceedingly delighted ; All that you see, said Byrrhsena, is yours ; and immediately after, she ordered with a low voice all the rest of her attendants to depart. And when all of them were gone. By this goddess, she said, my dearest Lucius, how exceedingly do I fear for you, and how much do I wish that you, who are as it were my son, may be well advised ! Take

care of yourself, but especially beware of the evil arts and nefarious blandishments of that Pamphile, the wife of Milo, whom you say is your host. She is one of the most renowned witches, and is believed to be mistress of every necromantic incantation ; so that by branches of trees and stones, and other frivolous things of the like kind, when she has breathed on them with magic words, she knows how to merge into the depths of Tartarus, and into ancient chaos, all this light of the starry world. For as soon as she has beheld any youth of a beautiful form, she is captivated by his elegance, and immediately turns upon him the sight both of her eyes and of her mind. She employs blandishments, she invades his spirit, she binds him with the eternal fetters of profound love. Then despising those who are not sufficiently obedient to her, and who rank among the vulgar, she changes them in a moment of time into stones and cattle, and any kind of beast ; but others she entirely destroys. I tremble for you on account of these things, and entreat you to beware of them. For she burns with an eternal love, and you, through your youth and your beauty, are fitted for her purpose. This was what Byrrhsena, who was very solicitous for my welfare, said to me.

But Ϊ, who was otherwise inquisitive, as soon as I heard the name of the magic art, which I always wished to obtain the knowledge of, was so far from dreading the blandishments of Pamphile, that I voluntarily longed to become a proficient in that science, even though at a great price, and to precipitate myself entirely, with an accelerated leap, into the gulf of magic. Hence, I hastily and insanely liberated myself from her hand, as from a certain bond, and having speedily said farewell, I flew to the house of Milo. And while, like one deprived of intellect, I thus accelerate my pace, I said, Now, O Lucius, be vigilant and attentive to yourself. For now you have the wished-for opportunity [of learning magic], and you may satiate your mind with admirable tales, which you have long desired to do. Away then with puerile

fears ; strenuously encounter with the thing itself more nearly; abstain from venereal connexion with your hostess, and religiously reverence the conjugal bed of the worthy Milo. Attack, however, with all your might the maid-servant Fotis ; for her form is elegant, her manners are facetious, and her conversation delightful. Yesterday evening likewise, when you went to rest, she courteously brought you into the bed-chamber, gently laid you in bed, very lovingly covered you, and having kissed your head, showed by her countenance how unwillingly she left you ; and in the last place, she frequently stood still, turning herself, and looking behind her. Let us therefore make advances to Fotis, as a thing good , felicitous , and fortunate , though it should not be salutary.

While I thus determined with myself, 1 came to the gate of Milo ; yet I did not find either Milo or his wife at home, but only my dear Fotis, who was preparing for her master and mistress a finely seasoned dish of minced meat, together with some broth. And I conjectured indeed by my smell that she was making very savoury food. She herself being neatly dressed in a linen garment, and girded a little higher than usual under her breasts, with a red and very splendid band, stirred round with her beautiful hands that dish of minced meat ; and as she frequently stirred it, the gradually vibrating motion of her loins, and the gentle agitation of the flexible spine of her back, produced a graceful undulation.

On perceiving this I was fixed in astonishment, and stood wondering ; and at length i said to her. How beautiful and pleasing, my Fotis, is the motion of your loins in stirring that dish of meat ! what honeyed broth are you preparing ! Happy, and more surely blessed he, who is permitted by you to dip his finger in it. Then she, who was otherwise a pleasant and merrily loquacious girl, said, Depart, O miserable man, far from me, depart from my fire ; for if the frame of my love should scorch yon, though but in a moderate degree, you will be profoundly burnt. Thus speaking, she looked at me and laughed»

I did not, however, depart from her, till I had diligently explored the whole form of her body. But why do I speak of other things pertaining to her; since it has ever been my only care, sedulously to survey, in the first place, the head and the hair in public, and afterwards to enjoy them at home ? In this decision I am confirmed, by considering that this part of the body has a conspicuous position, and is the first thing that presents itself to our sight ; and that the native splendour of the hair effects the same thing in the head, as the delightful colour of a beautiful garment in the other members of the body.

Lastly, most women, in order to exhibit their native gracefulness and allurements, divest themselves of all their garments, and long to show their naked beauty ; being conscious that they shall please more by the rosy redness of their skin, than by the golden splendour of their robes. But (though it is a thing not lawful to speak of, and may there never be so dire an example of such a thing,) if you deprive a woman of the most surpassing beauty of her hair, and strip her face of its native elegance ; though she were sent from the heavens, produced from the sea, and nourished in the waves ; though, I say, she were Venus herself, surrounded by all the Graces, and attended by the whole family of Loves, girded with her cestus, fragrant with cinnamon, and dropping balsam as she moves ; yet if she were bald, she would not be able to please her own Vulcan.

How beautiful is the hair, when it is of a pleasingcolour, shines with a glittering light, is vividly refulgent when opposite to the rays of the sun, or is more mildly resplendent, and varies its appearance in a different gracefulness ; at one time emitting a brightness like that of gold, it sinks into a slender shade of the colour of honey ; at another, with a blackness like that of a crow, it emulates the azure flowers of the neck of doves ; or now, anointed with Arabian drops, [«. e. the tears of myrrh] separated by the slender tooth of a sharp comb, and tied behind the head, it presents itself to the eyes of the lover, — it then,

like a mirror, reflects a more pleasing image. How beautiful, when being thick, it is agglomerated with prolific abundance on the crown of the head, or extended in a long series flows down the back ! Lastly, so great is the dignity of the hair of the head, that though a woman should be adorned with gold, rich garments, precious stones, and every other ornament, yet she would not seem to be decorated, unless her hair was gracefully divided. But in my Fotis, not studied, but neglected ornament, added elegance to her person. For her copious hairs, gradually falling pendulous on the hind part of her neck, and being afterwards distributed through the neck, and leisurely reclining on the flexuous border of the top of her garment, were, after being a little conglomerated in the extremity, fastened by a knot to the crown of her head. I could not, however, then, any longer sustain the torment of such transcendent pleasure, but immediately gave her a most luscious kiss, in that part where the hair ascended to the summit of her head.

Then she turned herself towards me, and looking at me obliquely, and with petulant eyes, So then, you novice, said she, you have taken a sweet, and at the same time, a bitter draught. Take care, lest from the excessive sweetness of the honey, you do not procure for yourself the lasting bitterness of gall. Why do you say so, my delight, I replied, since I am prepared, being renovated, to be roasted by that fire, even for one kiss ? And having said this, and embraced her more closely, I began to kiss her more ardently. And now, she, cogerminating with me into an equality of love, exhaling from her open mouth the odour of cinnamon, and ravishing me with the nectareous touch of her tongue, I said to her, I shall perish, or rather I am already a lost man, unless you will be propitious. To which she replied, having again kissed me. Be of good courage, for I am enslaved to you by mutual desire, nor shall our pleasure be deferred any longer ; but as soon as it is night, I will give myself to your embraces.

It was scarcely, however, yet noon, when Byrrhaena sent to me hospitable gifts, viz. a fat pig, five hens, and a cadus c of wine valuable for its age. Then I, having called Fotis, said. Behold, Bacchus, the exciter and armour-bearer of Venus, is come of his own accord. For, the voyage of Venus alone requires such provision as this; viz. that through the whole of the wakeful night, the lamp may abound with oil, and the cup with wine. The rest of the day I passed in bathing, and afterwards in supping : for, being invited by the good Milo, I sat at his scanty table, as much as possible out of the viewr of his wife, in consequence of recollecting the admonitions of Byrrhaena; and, tremblingly, cast my eyes upon her, as if I was beholding the lake Avernusd. But as I continually looked at Fotis, who waited on us, my mind was refreshed by the view.

As it was now evening, Pamphile, beholding the lamp, said, It will rain abundantly to-morrow. And on her husband asking her how she knew that to be the case, she answered. That this was predicted to her by the lampe. At this, Milo, laughing, said, We nourish in this lamp a great Sibyl, who sees from the candlestick, as from a watchtower, all that is transacting in the heavens ; and therefore, surveys even the sun itself. To this, I subjoined, These are the first specimens of this kind of prediction. Nor ought it to seem wonderful, that this flame, though small, and the work of human hands, should, nevertheless, have a recollection of that greater and celestial fire, as of its parent ; and, through this.

c The cadus was a wine vessel capable of containing twelve gallons, and was made in the shape of our wine pipes.

(1 Avernus was a lake of Campania, near to Baia;, and was so called as if it was aopyo?, destitute of birds, because, by its foul exhalations, it destroyed the birds that flew over it. This lake was dedicated to Pluto, was thought to be the Entrance to the realms beneath, and is frequently, as in this place of Apuleius, assumed for those realms.

e \ id. Virgil. Georgic. lib. i. et Avien. in Arati Prognostica.

GOLDEN ASS, OF AFULEIUS.

should divinely presage and enunciate to us what the source of its existence is about to effect in the summit of the heavens. For with us, at Corinth, a certain Chaldean stranger now disturbs the whole city with his admirable predictions, and divulges to the common people the arcana of fate, for the sake of gain. Thus, for instance, he would tell the day on which the nuptial knot would be tied ; or the foundations of walls would be established so as to remain for ever ; and what day would be auspicious to the merchant ; or an anniversary to the traveller ; or adapted to navigation. Lastly, to me inquiring of him what would be the result of this my journey, he answered. That it would be attended with many very admirable and different events. For, he said. That at one time Ϊ should obtain a sufficiently flourishing renown, and that at another, I should write a great history and an incredible fable, and compose books.

Milo, laughing on hearing this, said, Of what stature was this Chaldean, and what was his name ? I replied. He was a tall man, and of a dark complexion, and his name was Biophanes. “ it is the same person, said Milo, and no other, who having similarly predicted many things to many in this city, and gained through it no inconsiderable wealth, or rather a great sum of money, unhappily experienced an inauspicious, or, that I may speak more truly, a cruel fortune. For, on a certain day, when, being surrounded with a great crowd, he distributed destiny to all around him; a merchant, whose name was Cerdo, came to' him, desiring to know what day would be the fittest to take a journey. But, when Biophanes had selected and pointed out to him the proper day, and Cerdo having opened his purse, and taken out the money contained in it, had counted a hundred pence, which he intended to give him as the reward of his predictions, behold, a certain youth, of a noble family, coming behind him, and taking hold of his garment, embraced and kissed him most cordially.

“ But Biophanes, having in his turn also kissed the

youth, and at the same time desired him to sit near him, was stupified, as it were, by the unexpected sight of his friend; and forgetting what had just then occurred, said to him. How long is it, my much wished for friend, since you came into these parts ? To this the other answered, 1 came about the beginning of the evening. But do you also, brother, inform me in your turn, how it happened that you sailed so quickly from the island Euboea to this city, and have passed over both sea and land. In answer to this, Diophanes, that excellent Chaldean, being deprived of intellect, and not yet himself, said, May our enemies, and all those who are hostile to us, meet with the like cruel and Ulyssean peregrination. For the ship itself in which we sailed, being injured by various storms, and having lost both the mast and the rudder, could not be impelled to the opposite shore, but was merged in the gulf ; and we, having lost all our property, were scarcely able to save ourselves. Whatever we could scrape together, either from the pity of strangers, or the benevolence of our friends, was all taken from us by a band of robbers ; and my brother, whose name was Arisuatus, being the only one that resisted their violence, was unhappily slain before my eyes. While Diophanes was sorrowfully relating these particulars, the merchant Cerdo, taking up the money which he had designed to pay for the prediction, immediately ran away. Then, however, Diophanes, being at length roused from his stupor, perceived the injury which he had sustained through his imprudence, especially when he saw that all of us who surrounded him burst into loud laughter.

u But I wish, Lucius, that the Chaldean may have predicted what is true to you alone among all of them, and that you may be happy, and make a prosperous journey.” During this prolix narration of Milo, I silently lamented, and was not a little angry with myself, that having voluntarily introduced a series of unseasonable tales, I had lost a good part of the night, and the most delghtful fruit of it. At length, therefore, T boldly said to Milo, Let

Diophanes bear his destiny, and again expose to the perils both of land and sea the money which he may obtain by his predictions. But suffer me, who am still weary from the toil of yesterday, to betake myself quickly to rest. Having said this, I rose up and went to my bedchamber : and there I found a most elegant arrangement of delicacies. For the bed of the less male servants was laid on the floor, at a considerable distance from the door ; in order, I suppose, that they might not be a witness of the nocturnal murmurs. A small table stood by my bed, sufficiently laden with the rich remains of the whole supper, and two cups already half full of water, only waiting for the admixtion of wine. Near these, also, was a stone bottle, the orifice of which gradually dilated, and from which the wine could easily be drawn.

I was scarcely laid down, when, behold, my Fotis (her mistress having now retired to rest,) approached, scattering roses upon the bed, some of which, also, she carried in her swelling bosom. Having, likewise, closely kissed me, tied a garland round my head, and strewed upon me flowers, she seized a cup, and pouring warm water into it, extended it to me that I might drink. But before I had drank the whole she gently took it from me, and gradually diminishing with her lips what was left, and at the same time fixing her eyes on me, she sweetly sipped it. A second, and a third time, also, and frequently, we pledged each other.

It happened on a certain day, that Byrrhaena earnestly desired me to take a small supper with her ; and when I very much excused myself, she said she would never forgive me if I refused to come. I went therefore tu Fotis to ask her advice, considering her assent as an auspicious omen ; who, though she was unwilling that I should depart from her the breadth of a nail, yet she kindly granted me a little respite from our amatory war. But take care, said she, that you return early from supper; for a furious band of the most noble youth of the city disturbs the public peace. Hence, you will every where

D

THE META MORPH OS IS, OK

see men that have been murdered lying in the middle of the streets ; nor can the aid afforded by the prefect of the province, on account of its great distance, defend the city from so great a calamity. But the splendour of your fortune may create snares for you, and your being a foreigner may render you contemptible. Do not disturb yourself, I said, my Fotis. For I shall return early, not only because I prefer my own pleasures to the banquets of others, but also in order that I may remove your fear. Nevertheless, I shall not go unattended : for I shall carry with me the succour of my safety ; since I shall have depending from my side, my accustomed sword. Thus prepared, I betook myself to supper.

There I found many guests, and as she was a woman of rank, they consisted of the flower of the city. The banquet was sumptuous ; the beds were splendid with ivorv, and covered with cloth of gold; the cups were ample, some of which were more precious than others, but all of them were equally beautiful. This was of glass adorned with figures exquisitely wrought ; there stood one of crystal perfectly pure. Here was a cup of bright silver, and there of glittering gold ; and in another place stood one of amber, admirably excavated, so as to be fitted for a drinking vessel. In short, whatever might be believed to be impossible to be effected, was there. The servants who distributed the food, were numerous and magnificently clothed ; and the delicacies were abundant. Virgins, elegantly ministrant, attended; and boys with curled locks, and beautifully attired, frequently handed to the guests old wine in gems fashioned into cups. And now, the lamps being introduced, convivial conversation abounded, together with frequent laughter, liberal jests, and pleasant gibes. Then Byrrhaena thus addressed me : Do you find yourself comfortable in our country? For I know that we excel all other cities in temples, and baths, and other public works. We likewise abound with provisions. Certainly we have here tranquil liberty ; and the stranger who is intent on business, may here find a multi-

tude of men resembling those of Rome ; but the unambitious stranger will here find rural quiet. Lastly, the whole province comes to this place, for the sake of solitary pleasure. To this I replied, What you say is true, nor have I thought myself to be any where more free than I am here. But I am very much afraid of the dark and inevitable retreats of the magic discipline. For it is said, that not even the sepulchres of the dead are secure, but that certain relics and fragments of dead bodies are snatched from the burning pyres, for the purpose of being subservient to the destruction of the living. And old witches, at the very moment of the preparation for a funeral, outstrip by the rapidity of their speed the burial of strangers. In addition to what I thus said, another person observed ; Here, indeed, they do not even spare any of the living. And one whom I know not, having suffered something of this kind, was mutilated in his face, which was every where deformed.

In the meantime unrestrained laughter diffused itself through the whole banquet ; and the eyes of all the guests were turned towards a certain person who sat in a corner apart from the rest of the company. This man being confused by the pervicaciousness of all those who were looking at him, and indignantly muttering to himself, was preparing to rise [and go away]. But Bvrrhsena said to him. Do net go, my Telephron, but stop a little while, and, with your usual urbanity, resume your narration from the beginning, that this my son Lucius also may partake of the pleasure produced by your facetious tale. To this, he said, You indeed, madam, always preserve an inviolable probity ; but the insolence of certain persons is not to be borne. Thus he, being moved with indignation. The urgent entreaties, howrever, of Byrrhsena, who conjured him by her own life to give the narration, forced him at length to comply. Telephron therefore, having made a pile of the coverlets, leaning on his elbow, and raising himself a little on the bed, extended his right hand and composed the articulation of his fingers after the manner of orators.

Having likewise shut the two lowest fingers, he expanded the rest in a prominent position, and gently smiling, with his thumb stretched out, began as follows :

“ While I was yet. a pupil, I went to Miletus to see the Olympic games, and as I wished also to visit these places of this famous province, having travelled over all Thessaly I came with ill omens to Larissa. And while roving through every place, the money which I had brought with me for my journey being very much diminished, I was exploring some means of mitigating my poverty, I beheld in the middle of the forum a certain tall old man. He stood on a stone, and proclaimed with a loud voice : If any one wishes to be the guardian of the dead body of one deceased, he shall be well rewarded for the undertaking. Then I said to one that wras passing by, what is the meaning of this proclamation ? Are the dead in this place accustomed to runaway? He answered. Be silent : for you are very young, and perfectly a stranger, and you are also ignorant that you are in the middle of Thessaly where witches every where lacerate with their teeth the faces of the dead, and such conduct is to them the solace of the magic art. To this I replied. Tell me, I beseech you, in what does this funeral guardianship consist ? In the first place, said he, you must incessantly watch through the whole night, with open and unwinking eyes, continually fixed on the dead body ; nor must your sight ever be diverted from this object, nor in the smallest decree turned from it. For these worst of witches having transformed themselves into any brutal body, creep in latently, so that they easily elude the eyes both of Justice and the Sun. For they change themselves into birds, and besides this, into dogs and rats, and even into flies. Then, too, they oppress the guardians w'ith sleep, by employing dire enchantments. Nor can any sufficiently define the magnitude of the frauds w'hich they devise for the sake of gratifying their libidinous appetite. Notwithstanding this, however, not more than four or six pieces of golden coin are offered as the reward of such a

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. BOOK II. 37

dangerous undertaking. And in addition to this, which I had almost forgotten, if he who watches does not on the following morning restore the dead body entire, he is compelled to repair the whole of whatever has been bitten and taken from it, with discerptions from his own face.

(i On hearing this, I invigorated my mind with a masculine strength, and going directly to the cryer, I said, Cease to proclaim any farther, a guardian is present ready prepared for you ; tell me what the recompense will be. You will receive, said he, a thousand pieces of money. But be very careful, O young man, to preserve the dead body of one of the principal persons of this city from most iniquitous harpies. You narrate to me, I said, absurdities and mere trifles. You behold in me a man of iron, sleepless, and certainly more sharp-sighted than Lynceus himself, or Argus, and one wTho is all eye. Ϊ had scarcely finished, when he immediately brought me to a certain house, the gates of which being closed, he introduced me through a narrow back door, and pointed out to me a bedchamber, which was dark in consequence of the window shutters being closed, and a woman clothed in a black garment weeping ; near whom the cryer standing, said, This man confidently offers to watch the dead body of your husband for the proposed reward. But she, removing to each side the hair that hung down before her face, which even in sorrow was beautiful, and beholding me, said. Endeavour, Ϊ beseech you, to perform the office which you have undertaken vigilantly. Lay aside all care, I said, and only procure for me some overplus adapted to the labour of my undertaking. To this assenting, she hastily arose, and brought me into another bedchamber. There she disclosed with her hand a dead body that was covered with very white linen, in the presence of seven witnesses who had been introduced into the room : and having wept for a long time, and desired those that were present to bear testimony, she diligently pointed out to them every particular ; a certain person at the same time describing in a writing table the parts of

the body, which he severally touched for that purpose. Behold, said she, his nose is entire, his eyes are in a sound condition, his ears are safe, his lips have not been violated, and his chin is whole. You, worthy citizens, be witnesses of this. And having said this, she sealed the tables and departed. But I said to her, [Be so good] madam, as to order that all things may be procured forme which are necessary to this undertaking. What are these ? said she. I replied, A large lamp, sufficient oil to supply it with, till it is daylight; warm water, with wine vessels and a cup, and a tray furnished with the remains of the supper. Then she, shaking her head, said, Begone, foolish man, who dost expect supper, and the relics of feasting, in a house full of sorrow, and in which for so many days no smoke has been seen. Do you think that you have come hither to feast? Bather assume, as adapted to this place, sorrow and tears. And at the same time turning to her maid-servant, she said, Myrrhina, immediately give him a lamp and oil, and shutting me in the bedchamber, she departed.

“ I, therefore, being thus left alone to the solace of the dead body, having rubbed my eyes, and armed myself to vigilance, sooth my mind by singing. When lo, the twilight commenced, the night advanced, still deeper and deeper night, and at length midnight ; and my fear became greatly increased. But then a weasel, suddenly creeping into the bedchamber, stood opposite to me, and looked very sharply at me, so that the little animal disturbed my mind by its great audacit)^. At length, however, I thus spoke to it: Depart, impure beast, and hide yourself with little mice that resemble you, before you experience our powerful blows. Why do you not go awray ? The animal fled, and immediately left the chamber. But directly after, a profound sleep suddenly merged me into its unfathomable depths ; so that not even the Delphic god himself could easily distinguish which of us two that were prostrate, wras more dead. I, thus inanimate, and requiring another keeper, was nearly not there.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK ΙΓ. 39

“ Scarcely had the streperous song of the crested cohortf proclaimed a truce to night, when I, being at length roused, and terrified in the extreme, ran to the dead body, and taking the lamp with me, and uncovering the face of the corpse, I scrutinized every member, and found all was right. W hen lo ! the miserable wife entered, weeping, with the witnesses of yesterday, being very solicitous for the event ; and, immediately falling on the body, and kissing it frequently, and for a long time, she explored every thing, by the testimony of the lamp. Then turning herself, she called Philodespotus g, the steward of her house, and ordered him to pay me, without delay, the wages of a good guardian. This being immediately presented to me, We give you the greatest thanks, she said, O young man ; and, by Hercules, for having so well accomplished this undertaking, we shall afterwards rank you among the rest of our domestics. To this, being delighted with the unexpected gain, and astonished at the sight of the glittering pieces of gold, which I frequently shook in my hand, I said, Indeed, madam, you may consider me as one of your servants; and, as often as you may be in want of my assistance, confidently command it. I had scarcely thus spoken, when the domestics, execrating the nefarious omen of my words, took up arms of every kind, and pursued me. One began to strike me on the face with his fist, another on the shoulders, with his elbows ; by some I was kicked, and by others my hair was plucked off, and my garment was lacerated. And thus, being mangled and torn in pieces by reproaches and maledictions, like the proud youth Adonis, or Orpheus, the son of the muse Calliope, I was thrust out of doors.

f The writers on rural affairs call those birds that are nourished at home in coops, aves cohortales.

£ A name, composed of the two Greet, words φίλος and iscoro Ήΐς, and signifying one who willingly submits to the domination of auothei ; or, iu the language of Horace,

amicum

Mancipium domino.

“ And while I recover myself in the next street, and too late call to mind my inauspicious and imprudent speech, and confess that I deserved to suffer even more blows than I had received, behold the dead body was now carried out, accompanied, for the last time, by lamentations and clamour · and was brought through the forum, with all the pomp of a public funeral, and according to the rites of his country, in consequence of having been one of the principal men of the city. To the side of the corpse came a certain old man, tearing his native hair, and seizing the bier with both his hands, and with a voice raised indeed, but interrupted with continual sighs, he exclaimed, By your faith, O citizens, and by your public piety, give assistance to your murdered fellow-citizen, and severely revenge a most atrocious deed, on this abominable and wicked woman ; for she, and no other, has destroyed by poison this miserable young man, the son of my sister, in order that she might gratify her adulterer, and invade his hereditary possessions. After this manner the old man loudly uttered querulous lamentations, interrupted by sobs. In the meantime, the common people began to rage, and were impelled to a belief of the crime, by the probability of its having been committed. They clamorously call for fire ; they demand stones ; and they incite the boys to the destruction of the woman : but she, loudly lamenting, and adjuring all the divinities in the most sacred manner possible, denied that she had perpetrated so great a crime.

“ The old man therefore said. Let us refer the decision of the truth to divine providence. Zachlas, the Egyptian, is present, who ranks among the first of the prophets1', and who agreed with me some time since, for a great reward, to recall for a little while the soul of this dead man from

h The Egyptians were consummately skilled in astrology and magic, and their priests were prophets, and were believed to he divinely wise. Hence Pythagoras, Plato, and the most famous of the Greek philosophers, are said to have associated with them.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. BOOK ΙΓ. 41

the realms beneath, and to reanimate this body. And having thus said, he brought into the midst of the bystanders a certain young man, clothed in linen garments1, who had on his feet shoes made from palm leaves woven together, and whose head was entirely shaven. The old man, likewise, having for a long time kissed his hands and embraced his knees, said, O priest, take pity on me?

I beseech you, by the celestial stars, by the Gods of the infernal regions, by the natural elements, by the silence of night, the Coptic enclosures, the Nilotic increments, the Mempliitic arcana, and the Phariac [i. e. Egyptian] sistra. Give to this dead body a short use of the sun, and infuse a small portion of light in eyes buried in eternal night. We do not wish to resist fate, nor to deny the earth a thing which is her own ; but we only request a short space of life, as a solace of vengeance.

“ The prophet being thus rendered propitious, took a certain herb, and laid it thrice on the mouth of the dead body, and placed another on the breast of it. Then turning himself to the east, and silently imploring the increments of the august Sun, he raised the eager attention of those that were present, to so great a miracle, by the form of such a venerable apparatus. I mingled myself with the crowd, and standing on a certain more elevated stone, which wTas behind the bier, I observed every thing with inquisitive eyes. And now the breast of the corpse began to swell with respiration ; the salubrious vein [i. e. the artery] to have pulsation ; and the body to be filled with spirit. The corpse also arose, and thus spoke to the young man : Why, I beseech you, do you bring me back to the offices of a momentary life, after I have drank of the Lethcean cup, and have swam over the Stygian marshes ? Desist, I pray you, now desist, and suffer me to remain in

See book xi., where the linen garments of the priests of Isis are more copiously mentioned. Woollen garments were, according to the doctrine of Orpheus and Pythagoras, profane; but those of linen were considered as most pure. Vid. Apul. Apol.

my rest. These words were heard from the body. But the prophet, being a little more excited, said, Why do you do not narrate every thing to this crowd, and disclose the secrets of your death ? Do you not think that the Furies can be called forth by my imprecations ? And that your wearied limbs may be tormented? To this [the reanimated body] answered from the bier, and thus, with a groan, addressed the people : I was destroyed by the nefarious arts of a new wife, and being compelled to take an envenomed potion, I delivered to an adulterer my yet tepid bed. Then the egregious wife assumed confidence from the present circumstances, and resisting, with a sacrilegious mind, contends against her confuting husband. The vulgar are inflamed, and divided into contrary parties. These contend that the most execrable woman should be immediately buried alive, with the body of her husband. Others are of opinion, that no credit should be given to the lying testimony of a dead body. The subsecpient speech, however, of the corpse, dissolved this contest; for, again profoundly groaning, it said, I will give you, I will give you manifest documents of unviolated truth, and will indicate to you what is known to no one else.

“ Then, pointing to me with his finger: When this most sagacious guardian, said he, of my body, diligently watched over me, old enchantresses, ardently longing after the spoil of my members, and on this account having frequently been in vain changed into other forms, when they found they could not deceive his sedulous attention; having at length thrown over him the dark mist of drowsiness, and buried him in profound sleep, they did not cease to call me by my name, till my infirm joints and cold members struggled, by sluggish endeavours, to obey the mandates of the magic art. Then this man, who was alive indeed, but dead only with sleep, because he had the same denomination with myself, rose, ignorant of what had been transacted, on hearing his name, and spontaneously walking like an inanimate shadow, though

the doors of the bedchamber were carefully closed, suffered mutilation instead of me ; his nose first, and afterwards his ears, being amputated through a certain chink. And, that other things might correspond with the fraud, they accurately adapted to him wax, fashioned in the shape of his mutilated ears, and provided him with a waxen nose, similar to his own. And now the miserable man stands here, having obtained the reward, not of his vigilance, but of his mutilation. On hearing this, I, being terrified, began to try my fortune1". With my hand I take hold of my nose, it follows my hand : I touch my ears, and they fall off. And while I am pointed out by the direct fingers and oblique nods of those that were present, while there was an ebullition of laughter, I escape between the feet of the surrounding crowd, wet with frigid perspiration. Nor, being thus mutilated and exposed to ridicule, could I return to my paternal abode ; but, with my hair falling on each side of my face, I concealed the wounds of my ears, and covered the disgrace of my nose with this linen cloth closely applied to it.”

As soon as Telephron had brought this narration to an end, all the inebriated guests were again dissolved in laughter. And while they ask permission to drink the health of their friends, Byrrhsena thus addressed me : Tomorrow comes as a day which it has been usual to celebrate from the earliest infancy of this city ; on which day we alone, of all men, propitiate the most sacred God of laughter1, with hilarity and mirth. Your presence will

k In the original, tent are fortunam ; but the Delphin editor says, that instead of fortunam, we should read, with Gruterus, formam. But, as I do not see any necessity for this alteration, I have not adopted it in my version; for tentare fortunam appears to me to be a very natural expression on such an occasion as that on which it was used by Telephron.

1 Pausanias mentions this solemnity, where he speaks of the Hypatensians. Plutarch also, in his life of Cieomenes, mentions a temple which was dedicated to the God of laughter; and he likewise relates that a statue was erected to this divinity by Lycurgus. Every providential energy of deity, about a sensible nature, was said, by ancient

render him more pleasing to us ; and I wish you could devise any thing, from your own proper pleasantry, of a joyous nature, in honour of the God, in order that we might, in a greater and more perfect degree, please so great a divinity. It is well, I said, and what you request shall be done. And, by Hercules, I wish I could invent something very festive, which might excite immoderate laughter. After this, being myself distended with much wine, I immediately rise, through the admonition of my servants, who informed me that it was now night, and having hastily bid farewell to Byrrhaena, I proceed homeward, with staggering steps. And while we go through the first broad street, the torch to which we trusted [as our guide] was extinguished by a sudden blast of wind ; so that, being scarcely liberated from the darkness of unexpected night, it was with difficulty and weariness that we could reach our home, our toes frequently striking against the stones.

But when we now drew nearer to our street, behold, three men, of strong and vast bodies, rushed, with the greatest violence, against our gate, and wrere not in the smallest degree terrified by our presence, but frequently attacked it, with a greater accumulation of force, so that to all of us, and especially to me, they appeared to be robbers, and of the most cruel description. Immediately, therefore, I seize a sword, liberated from my bosom, and which I carried with me, concealed in my garments, for these purposes. Without delay I threw myself into the midst of the robbers, and plunged my

theologists and philosophers, to be the sport of divinity. Hence the ancient authors of fables call this peculiarity of the providence of the Gods, energising about the world, laughter. So that, as Proclus well observes, (in Plat. Polit.) we must define the laughter of the Gods to be their exuberant energy in the universe , and the cause of the gladness of all mundane natures. And, as this energy is never-failing, the laughter of the Gods is very properly said by Homer to be unextinguished. The source, therefore, of this exuberant energy and mundane gladness, is the God of laughter.

sword profoundly into the body of each that presented himself in the contest, till at length they expired before my feet, pierced with many and deep wounds. And when I had thus fought, Fotis being awakened by the tumult, and having opened the gate, I entered into the house, breathing with difficulty, and wet with perspiration. Immediately, also, I delivered myself to bed and sleep, being as much fatigued with the slaughter of the stubborn robbers, as if I had killed [the tricorporal m] Geryon.

111 The slaying of whom is one of the twelve celebrated labours of Hercules.

BOOK TIIE THIRD.

Now Aurora rode through the heavens, lashing, with rosy hand, her horses decked with ruddy trappings ; and night restored me, snatched from secure quiet, to the day. But my mind was in a fluctuating state from the recollection of the deed which I had perpetrated in the evening. At length, however, collecting my feet under me, joining together my hands upon my knees, with my fingers twined in each other, and thus sitting on my bed, I wept abundantly; now representing to myself, in my imagination, the forum, the judicial processes, the condemnation, and lastly, the executioner. Shall I find, said I to myself, any judge so mild and so benevolent, as to be able to pronounce me innocent, who am imbrued with the blood of a triple homicide, and defiled with the gore of so many citizens? This is the journey which the Chaldean Diophanes pertinaciously proclaimed would be to me glorious. Frequently revolving these things with myself, I deplored my fortune. In the meantime, there was a violent knocking at our doors, and a great tumult before our gate. And without delay, a great irruption being made into the house, every part of it was filled with magistrates and their attendants, and a miscellaneous crowd. Immediately also, two of the lictors, laying hold of me, by order of the magistrates, led me along without any resistance on my part. And when we came into the next street, immediately all the city pouring forth in a

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK III. 47

great crowd, followed us in a wonderfully compact body. And though I walked sorrowfully with my head inclined to the ground, or rather to the realms beneath, yet by looking obliquely, I saw a thing altogether admirable. For among so many thousands of people that surrounded me, there was not any one who was not ready to burst with laughter.

At length, having passed through all the streets, and after the manner of those who, with lustral sacrifices, expiate, by circumforaneous victims, the anger of the Gods,a being led by an angular circumduction into the forum, I. was placed by the tribunal. And now the magistrates were seated in the lofty pulpit, now the public cryer proclaimed silence, when suddenly all the assembly with one voice requested that a cause of so much consequence might be tried in the theatre, on account of the concourse of the people, which might be attended with danger from its great multitude and compression. Immediately, the people every wdiere running to the theatre, filled the seats of it with a vronderful celeritv. The entrances also, and the whole of the building, were crowded. A great part of the populace stood clinging to the pillars ; some w^ere pendent from the statues ; others were half conspicuous from the windows and the beams of the building ; and all through an ardent desire of seeing [what would be the issue of the affair,] paid no attention to their own safety. Then the public ministers led me through the middle of the proscenium, like some victim, and placed me in the midst of the orchestra.

A certain accuser, therefore, who wras of an advanced age, being again called by the loud bellowdng of the cryer, rose up, and having poured water into a certain vessel [i. e. a clepsydra,] which wras slenderly perforated like a strainer, and through which the water flowed by

a In these lustral sacrifices , the victim was led through the whole city, for the purpose of expiating, by its death, imminent destruction or pestilence.

drops, for the purpose of limiting the time of speaking, thus addressed the people :

A transaction is now brought before you, O most holy citizens, which is by no means of a trifling nature, but especially regards the peace of the whole city, and which, by a weighty example, will be profitable to others. Hence it will be most proper, that all and each of you should endeavour, for the public dignity, that this nefarious homicide may not go unpunished, for having cruelly slain so many of the citizens. Nor must you think that 1 have been induced by any private grudge, to accuse him more bitterly, from a peculiar hatred. For I am the prefect of the night-guard : nor do I believe that my sedulous vigilance hitherto can be blamed by any one. I will therefore faithfully narrate the transaction itself, and the deeds that were perpetrated this night. When, about the third watch h, I had gone round the whole city, observing every thing with exact diligence from door to door, I beheld this most cruel young man every where committing homicide with his drawn sword ; and three persons having been now ferociously slain by him, were laid before his feet, still breathing, and their bodies leaping in an abundance of gore. And he, indeed, being justly alarmed by the consciousness of so dire a deed, immediately fled, and having escaped into a certain house, through the protection of darkness, was there concealed during the whole of the night. By the providence of the Gods, however, which never suffers the guilty to go unpunished, I took care, before he had clandestinely escaped, to bring him, as soon as it was morning, before your venerable tribunal. You have therefore before you an accused person, one who is defiled with so many murders, one who is evidently guilty, and one who is an arraigned stranger. Courageously, therefore, pass sentence on a foreigner, for that crime, for the commission of which

b The night was divided by soldiers into four parts, each of which was called a watch, and consisted of three hours.

golden ass, of apuleius. — BOOK III. 49

you would severely punish one of your own citizens. My most bitter accuser having thus spoken, stopt his loud voice.

But immediately after, the cryer ordered me to begin to speak, if I wished to make any reply to what had been said. I, however, at that time could do no more than weep ; not, by Hercules, so much looking to my terrible accusation, as to my miserable conscience. Nevertheless, assuming a divinely inspired boldness, I answered as follows : — I am not ignorant how difficult it is for one who is accused of the murder of three citizens, to persuade so great a multitude that he is innocent, though he should speak the truth, and voluntarily confess the fact. But if your humanity will allow me a public audience for a short time, Ϊ can easily show you that I have sustained the danger of my life, not for having deserved to lose it, but through the fortuitous event of a reasonable indignation, which has unjustly caused me to be accused of so great a crime. For as I was returning from supper, somewhat later than usual, and besides this being intoxicated, which I will not deny was truly my crime, I beheld before the gates of my lodging (but I dwell with your worthy fellow-citizen Milo), certain most cruel robbers, attempting to gain an entrance, and to pluck the doors of the house from the hinges ; and having with great violence torn off all the bars by which the doors were fastened, they deliberated with themselves concerning the destruction of the inhabitants. Lastly, one of them who was more prompt with his hands and larger in his body, incited the others s£by these words. Hark ye, my lads, let us attack those within the house while they are asleep, with manly minds and active strength. Let all doubt, and all sluggishness, be banished from our breast. Let slaughter stalk with a drawn sword through the whole house. Let him who lies asleep be slain ; and him who endeavours to . resist be knocked down. Thus we shall depart from hence safe, if we leave no one in safety in the house. I confess, O citizens, I thought it was the duty of a good

E

member of the community, (as through fearing exceedingly both for myself and my hosts, I was armed with a sword which I carried with me on account of dangers of this kind,) that I should endeavour to put to flight and terrify these most iniquitous robbers. But these perfectly barbarous and atrocious men by no means betook themselves to flight; and though they saw that I was armed, yet they audaciously resisted. The battle is arrayed. And at length the leader and standard-bearer of the rest, having attacked me with great force, immediately endeavoured to beat me dowrn with a stone, having seized me by the hair with both his hands, and caused me

to recline backward. But while he strove to obtain the

stone, I, with a sure hand, happily laid him prostrate. And soon after, I slew another, who was adhering to and biting my feet, with a blow levelled at the middle of his shoulder blade; and the third I pierced in the breast, as he was incautiously running against me. Thus peace being vindicated, and the house of my host, and the common safety, being protected, I believed that I should not only be without punishment, but also that I should be thought worthy of the public praise : for I have never been accused even of the smallest crime, but have always been respected by my acquaintance, and have always preferred innocence to every earthly good. Nor am I able to discover why I now undergo this accusation of a just revenge, which I was incited to take against the worst of robbers, since no one can prove either that prior to this affair there was any private enmity between us, or that those robbers were ever at all known by me. Or certainly some spoil should be shown, through the desire of obtaining which it may be believed that I perpetrated such an unlawful deed.

Having thus said, tears again bursting forth, and with my hands suppliantly extended, I sorrowfully deprecated now these and then those by the public pity, and by the love of those dear pledges, their children. And when I thought that all of them were now moved by humanity.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. EOOK III. 51

and were sufficiently affected by the commiseration of my tears ; calling to witness the eye of Justice and the Sun, and commending to the providence of the Gods my present casualty, when I had raised my eyes a little higher, I beheld all the people ready to burst into loud laughter, and also my good host and father Milo dissolving as well as the rest into excessive laughter. But I then silently said to myself, Alas ! where is faith, where is conscience? I indeed am a homicide, and am capitally convicted, for the safety of my host. He, however, not content that he has not afforded me the solace of defence, laughs at my destruction.

In the meantime a certain woman, arrayed in^ black, ran through the middle of the theatre, weeping and lamenting, and carrying in her bosom an infant ; and behind her was another old woman, in ragged and filthy garments, who also testified her grief by similar lamentations. Both of them also shook with their hands branches of olive, which were scattered about the bier on which the dead bodies were laid, and beating their breasts and mournfully weeping, exclaimed, u By the public compassion, by the common law of humanity, take pity on these young men who are unworthily slain, and give to our widowhood and solitude the solace of revenge. At least, afford assistance to the miserable fortune of this infant, who is left destitute in the first years of his life, and make a propitiatory sacrifice to your laws and public discipline, with the blood of this robber.”

Afterwards, the magistrate who was the elder arose, and thus addressed the people : “ Concerning the crime, indeed, which must be severely punished, he who committed it cannot deny it. One only care, however, remains for us, and which is also of a secondary nature, that we should search after the other persons who were the associates of the accused, in the perpetration of so great a crime. For it is not probable, that one man alone could have deprived of life three such robust young men. The truth, therefore, must be extorted by torments. For the

servant who attended the accused lias privately fled ; and’ the thing is brought to this issue, that he may by torture be compelled to declare who were the partakers of his wickedness, in order that the dread of so dire a faction may be entirely removed.” And, without any delay, fire, and the wheel, after the manner of the Greeks, and afterwards every kind of whips, were introduced. My sorrow was very much increased, or rather was doubled, because I was not permitted to die entire. But that old woman who had disturbed everything by her weeping, said, u O best of citizens, before you fix to the cross this destroyer of my unhappy sons, suffer the dead bodies of the slain to be uncovered, that being more and more incited to a just indignation, by an inspection of the form, and, at the same time, of the age of the deceased, you may treat him with a severity proportioned to the magnitude of the crime.” These words were applauded; and immediately the judge ordered me to uncover, with my hand, the dead bodies which were placed on the bed. The lictors, by the command of the magistrates, instantly compelled me, in consequence of my struggling, and for a long time resisting^ the renovation of the preceding crime, by a new exhibition. Lastly, therefore, taking hold of my right hand, they extended it to my destruction on the dead bodies. At length, vanquished by necessity, 1 yield ; and though unwilling, snatching off the pall, I disclosed the bodies. But good Gods! what an appearance didjdie thing assume! what a prodigy ! what a sudden change of my fortune ! For, as I was now in the possession of Proserpine, and was considered as one of the family of Pluto, I suddenly became stupefied with wonder, on finding things assume such a contrary aspect. Nor could I, in appropriate words, explain the form of this new spectacle. For those bodies of the men that were slain were three inflated bladders, mangled in different parts, and as far as I could remember of my vespertine battle, they were cut in those places in which I appeared to myself to have wounded the robbers. Then the laughter which, through the cunning

BOOK III. 53

of certain persons, had been for a short time repressed, burst forth unrestrained among the people. Some exceedingly rejoiced; others, by the compression of their hands, mitigated the pain of their belly ; and all of them leave the theatre full of joy, and at the same time looking back on me.

But I, from the time that I laid hold of the pall, stood fixed and cold like a stone, no otherwise than one of the other statues or columns of the theatre. Nor did I emerge from the infernal realms, till my host Milo came, and took me by the hand, and with gentle force drew me with him, reluctant as I was, and frequently sobbing and again weeping. He, likewise, brought me to his house through certain winding ways, having for this purpose selected the most solitary streets, and by various conversation consoled me, who was still sad, and even then trembling [through my recent terror.] Nor could he by any means mitigate my indignation of the injury I had sustained, and which stuck more profoundly in my mind. But, lo ! the magistrates themselves, with their insignia, immediately entering into our house, strove to appease by addressing me as follows : We are not ignorant, O Lucius, of your dignity, or your lineage ; for the nobility of your illustrious family is extended through the whole of this province0. Nor have you, for the sake of contumely, suffered that for which you so excessively grieve. Dismiss, therefore, all the present sorrow from your breast, and expel this anguish from your mind. For this jest, which we solemnly celebrate in public every year, in honour of the most pleasant God of laughter, always flourishes with some new invention. The God also every where propitiously and lovingly attends the author of the invention, nor will he ever suffer you to be oppressed with mental grief, but will perpetually exhilarate your countenance with a serene gracefulness.

c i. e. Thessaly, of which the city of Ilypata was a part. For the mother of Apuleius derived her origin in Thessaly, from Plutarch and Lis nephew Sextus the philosopher.

All this city, likewise, will reward you with the greatest honour, for the favour which you have conferred on them. For it will denominate you its patron [by a public decree,] and will ordain that a brazen statue of you shall be erected.

To these words I answered, To you, indeed, O most splendid and principal city of Thessaly, I shall be mindful that my gratitude may be equivalent to such honours. But let me persuade you to keep statues and images for those who are more worthy and more excellent than I am. Having spoken thus modestly, and for a little while smiling with a cheerful countenance, and pretending as much as possible to be more joyful, I courteously bade the departing magistrates farewell. And behold a certain servant running into the house, said to me. Your mother Byrrhsena requests you to take notice, that the hour of the banquet is approaching, at which you promised yesterday to be present. But I, trembling at these words, and abhorring her house even at a distance, said, Tell your mistress that I would most willingly comply with her request, if I could do so without violating my promise. For my host Milo, conjuring me by the most powerful divinity, who presides over this day, compelled me to promise that I would sup wdth him this evening ; nor does he leave me, nor will he suffer me to depart from him. On this account, I must defer supping with her to another time. While I was yet thus speaking to the servant, Milo, taking me firmly by the hand, brought me to the next bath, having previously ordered that the bathing utensils should be sent to us when we were there. But I, avoiding the eyes of all men, and declining the laughter of those I met, and of which I had been the artificer, walked covertly by his side. Nor did I remember how I washed, or wiped myself, or how I again returned home ; such was the shame that I felt, and so much was I astounded on seeing myself pointed out by the eyes, the nods, and the fingers of all men. Lastly, having hastily taken a small supper with Milo, and excusing myself on

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. BOOK III. 55

account of a great pain in my head, occasioned by mv continual weeping, and this excuse being readily granted,

I betook myself to rest.

Lying therefore sorrowful in my bed, I revolved in my mind all that had happened to me, till at length my Fotis, having put her mistress to bed, came to me, very much unlike herself ; for she did not bring with her a joyful face, nor mirthful speech, but came with a sorrowful aspect and wrinkled forehead. Lastly, having spoke doubtfully and timidly, she said, I, of my own accord, confess that I have been the cause to you of this molestation ; and immediately she drew a whip from her bosom, and extending it to me, said, Revenge yourself, I beseech you, on a perfidious woman, or rather inflict on me some greater punishment. Nevertheless, do not, I entreat you, believe that I voluntarily occasioned you this anguish and sorrow. May the Gods be more favourable to me, than that you should suffer, on my account, the smallest anxiety! And if any thing adverse is likely to befall you, may the whole of it be immediately washed away with my blood ; but that which I was ordered to do, for the sake of another thing, has, through my evil destiny, been converted to your injury. Then I, being urged by my usual curiosity, and longing to have the latent cause of this deed unfolded, thus answered : That whip, the most iniquitous and audacious of all things, which you have destined to scourge yourself with, shall be destroyed, being broken in pieces by me, before it shall touch your most soft and milk-white skin. But tell me faithfully, I beseech you, what deed of yours the malignity of fortune converted to my destruction? For I swear by your head, which is most dear to me, that I would not believe any one who should assert that you have thought of any thing baneful to me, nor would I give credit to it, though you yourself should affirm it. Moreover, uncertain, or even adverse events, cannot cause innoxious thoughts to become the subject of blame.

When I had finished these words, I thirstily imbibed

love from the eyes of my Fotis, which were moist and tremulous, faint with precipitate lust, and half open, through ardent and absorbing kisses. So she, being refreshed with joy, said. Suffer me, I beseech you, in the first place, carefully to shut the door of the bedchamber, lest I should commit a great crime, through the profane petulance of the words that may fall from me. And, having thus said, she barred and firmly bolted the door, and thus, returning to me, and embracing my neck with both her hands, she said to me, in a low and very diminished tone of voice, u I fear, and profoundly tremble, to disclose the hidden affairs of this house, and to reveal the arcane secrets of my mistress. But I anticipate better things of you and your erudition, who, independently of the superior dignity of your birth, and the sublimity of your genius, are initiated in many sacred mysteries, and, consequently, know the sacred faith of silence. Whatever, therefore, I shall commit to the penetralia of this religious breast of yours, I beseech you to preserve perpetually shut within its recesses, and to remunerate the simplicity of my narration by the tenacity of your taciturnity ; for the power of love, by which I am bound to you, compels me to indicate those things to you, which, of all mortals, are known to me alone. Now you shall know all the state of our house ; now you shall know the wonderful secrets of my mistress, to which the souls of the dead are obedient, and the elements are subservient, and by which the stars are disturbed, and the divinities are compelled. Nor does she ever employ the force of this art in a greater degree, than when she has lustfully beheld a young man? of a graceful form, which is a thing that happens to her frequently.

“ Now, also, she vehemently loves a certain Boeotian youth, who is beautiful in the extreme, and [in order to allure him] ardently employs all the power and machinations of her art. I heard her yesterday, in the evening, Ϊ heard her, I say, with these my own ears, threaten the sun with nebulous obscurity, and perpetual darkness, if he did

BOOK III. 57

not more rapidly set, and sooner give place to the night, so as to afford her an opportunity of exercising the enchantments of magic. Yesterday she accidentally beheld this youth, sitting in a barber’s shop, as she was returning from the bath, and ordered me secretly to take away his hairs, which then lay on the ground, and had been cut off by the scissors. These the barber found me diligently and furtively collecting ; and because we were in other respects publicly infamous, through exercising the malefic discipline, he took hold of, and severely reproved me. Will you not cease, O most infamous woman ! [he said] to steal the hairs of beautiful young men? Unless, however, you desist from this wickedness, I will take you, without delay, before the magistrates. And, following his words by deeds, he explored with his hands, and drew out, enraged, from between my breasts, the hair which was there concealed. Being grievously affected by this deed, and considering with myself the manners of my mistress, who is accustomed to be excessively enraged, and to beat me most cruelly, when she is disappointed in a thing of this kind, I deliberated about making my escape, but on your account I immediately rejected that design. When, however, Ϊ departed from thence, sorrowful lest I should return with hands perfectly empty, I beheld a certain person shearing, with a pair of scissors, the skins of goats. And when I saw that these were properly bound together, were inflated, and stood of their own accord, Ϊ took a sufficient quantity of the hairs of them which were scattered on the ground, and were yellow, and therefore similar to those of the Boeotian youth ; and these I delivered to my mistress, dissembling the truth. Sc, at the beginning of the night, before you departed from supper, Pamphile, my mistress, being now beside herself, ascended into a gallery which was covered with narrow pieces of wood instead of tiles. This gallery, which she privately frequents, is situated in the higher part of the house, lias an aperture exposed to the winds, and a prospect of the eastern and all the other climates of the world, especially adapted to

these arts. And in the first place she adorned her deadly workshop with its usual apparatus, viz. with every kind of aromatics, with plates of metal engraved with unknown characters, with nails taken from shipwrecked vessels, and with the members of many lamented bodies exposed to the open air, and also of those that had been buried. Here were noses and fingers, there the nails by which culprits had been fixed to the cross, and to which portions of flesh adhered ; and in another place the blood of those was preserved that had been slain, and mangled skulls snatched from the teeth of wild beasts.

“ Then, having charmed the yet breathing fibres, she made a libation with different liquors, at one time with fontal water, at another with the milk of cows, and at another with mountain honey. She likewise made a libation with mead. After this she committed to the live coals to be burnt, with many aromatics, those platted goat-hairs. And then, with the unconquerable power of the magic discipline, and the occult force of the Gods, who were compelled by incantations, those bodies, the hairs of which smoked with a crashing noise, were immediately changed into a human form, and became sentient, and heard and walked. Where also the scent of their spoils attracted them, thither they came ; and, desiring to enter the house in the place of the young Boeotian, they knock at the gate. When, lo ! you, being intoxicated, and deceived by the darkness of the night, and bravely armed with a drawn sword, like insane Ajax, yet not lacerating whole herds as he did, who was hostile to live cattle ; but far more bold, you deprived of life three inflated goat-skins, in order that your adversaries, being laid prostrate, without any stain of blood, I might now embrace you, not as a homicide, but as a slayer of bladders.”

And thus, through the facetious narration of Fotis, merrily jesting with each other, 1 said, Now, therefore, I may enumerate this as the first glory which my fortitude has obtained, and which is as it were one of the twelve

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK III. 59

labours of Hercules ; so that my prowess in having slain three bladders may be considered as coequal to the destruction of the tricorporal Geryon, or the three-headed Cerberus. In order, however, that I may sincerely and willingly pardon you for the fault through which you involved me in such great anguish of mind, accomplish what I most ardently desire, and show me your mistress, when she attempts any thing pertaining to this divine [magic] discipline, so that, when she invokes the Gods,

I may at least see her changed into another form ; for I am most vehemently desirous of obtaining a nearer and more accurate knowledge of magic, though you yourself do not appear to me to be ignorant of, and unskilled in, things of this kind ; for I know, and perfectly experience in myself, that you are not destitute of this knowledge, since you detain me, voluntarily bound and subjected to you, like a slave, (as I have always despised matronal0 embraces,) by those bright eyes of yours, and by your ruddy lips, splendid hair, open-mouthed kisses, and fragrant breasts. Lastly, I neither am anxious to return home, nor am I making any preparations for that purpose, nor is there any thing which I prefer to this night. To this she replied. How much do I wash, O Lucius, to effect that which you desire ; but my mistress, on account of the envy and malevolence of others, has always been accustomed to perform such arcana alone, remote from the sight of every one. I prefer, however, the gratification of your request to my own safety, and I will diligently accomplish what you wash, exploring for this purpose a

d In the original, matronalium amplexuum, which the Delphin editors interpret complexus nob ilium faminarum, and, by so doing, appear to me to have entirely mistaken the meaning of Apuleius ; for matrons are elderly ladies, and it was very natural, in a young man like Apuleius, to despise the embraces of such as these, conformably to the admonition of Horace :

Desine matronas sectarier, unde laboris

Plus haurire mali est, quam ex re decerpere fruetus.

Satyr . lib. i.

fit opportunity. Do you only, as I at first admonished you, faithfully preserve in silence a thing of such great consequence. And now, sleep being infused into our eyes, which were enfeebled with wakefulness, detained us in bed till it was broad day.

Having passed a few nights voluptuously after this manner, Fotis, on a certain day, ran to me, agitated and trembling exceedingly, and informed me that her mistress, because she had not hitherto made any proficiency in her amours, by other arts, would, on the following night, assume wings, and be changed into a bird ; and would, thus transformed, fly to the object of her love. I cautiously, therefore, prepared myself for the survey of a thing of such importance. And now, towards the beginning of the night, Fotis brought me, with doubtful and silent steps, to that lofty chamber, and ordered me to look through a certain chink of the door, that I might see what was transacted. And, in the first place, indeed, Pamphile divested herself of all her garments, and having opened a certain small chest, took from thence many boxes, from one of which the covering being removed, she rubbed herself, for a long time, with an ointment contained in it, from the extremities of her feet to the crown of her head. When, also, with the lamp in her hand, she had said much in a low voice, she shook her limbs with a tremulous agitation ; and from these, lightly fluctuating, soft feathers extend themselves, and strong wings burst forth, the nose is hardened and incurvated, the nails are compressed and made crooked, and Pamphile becomes an owl. Being thus changed, and emitting a querulous sound, she made a trial of herself, and gradually leapt from the earth ; and soon after, being raised on high, she flew out of doors, with all the force of her wings. Thus she, indeed, was voluntarily changed, by her own magic arts. But I, who was not enchanted by any magic words, but only astounded at what was then transacted, seemed to be any thing else rather than Lucius. Thus, being exterminated from intellect, and astonished, even to

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. LOOK TIT. G1

insanity, I was dreaming, though awake ; so that, for a long time rubbing my eyes, I endeavoured to ascertain whether I was in a vigilant state. At length, therefore, returning to an animadversion of the present transactions, I took hold of the right hand of Fotis, and, applying it to my eyes, I said. Suffer me, I beseech you, to reap the great and singular fruit of your love, while the occasion offers, and give me a little ointment from the same box. This, my sweetest, I entreat you to grant, by those eyes of mine, which are devoted to you, and thus, by conferring on me a benefit which can never be remunerated, bind me to you a perpetual slave ; and now cause it to come to pass that I may stand near you, my Venus, a winged Cupid.

Would you, said she, my paramour, act fraudulently by me, and compel me voluntarily to throw an axe at my legs ? Shall I thus preserve my Lucius for the Thessalian virgins ? Where shall I seek for him when he is changed into a bird? When shall I see him? May the celestial powers, I said, avert from me that crime ; that I, who, borne on eagles’ wings, should be able to fly through all heaven, and be the sure messenger of Jupiter, or the joyful bearer of thunder, should not, after I had obtained this .dignity of wings, frequently fly to my nest. I swear to you, by that sweet little knot of your hair, with which you have bound my spirit, that I prefer no other female to my Fotis. This also occurs to my thoughts, that when once, being rubbed with that ointment, I am changed into a bird of that kind [i. e. into an owl], I ought to avoid all houses ; for what a beautiful and agreeable lover will an owl be to matrons ! Do we not also see that these nocturnal birds, when they have entered into any house, are solicitously caught, and nailed to the doors, that, by their torments, they may expiate the calamity which they portend to the family by their inauspicious flight ? But, tell me, what 1 had almost forgot to inquire, what I must say or do, in order that I may return to this my form of Lucius, having divested myself of those wings ? Be not

solicitous, she said, about this; for my mistress has shown to me every thing which can again change such forms into the human shape. You must not, however, think that she did this through any benevolence towards me, but in order that I might be able to afford her a salutary remedy when she returns home. Lastly, consider with what small and frivolous herbs a thing of such magnitude is effected; for a little of the herb dill, put into fountain water, with the leaves of the laurel, is given as a lotion, and also to drink.

Having frequently asserted this, she went into the bedchamber with great trepidation, and took out a box from the chest, which I, having first embraced and kissed, and prayed that it would favour me with prosperous flights, hastily divested myself of all my garments, and having ardently put my hand into it, and taken from thence a sufficient quantity of the ointment, I rubbed with it the members of my body. And now, balancing my arms with alternate efforts, I longed to be changed into a similar bird. No plumes, however, nor any wings germinated, but my hairs became evidently thickened into bristles, my tender skin wras hardened into a hide, and the extremities of my hands, all my fingers, having lost their number, coalesced into several hoofs, and a long tail proceeded from the extremity of my spine. My face was now enormous, my mouth was long, and my lips immoderate and pendant. Thus, also, my ears increase excessively, and were clothed with rough hairs. And while, destitute of all hope, I consider the whole of my body, I see that I am not a bird, but an ass ; and, complaining of the deed of Fotis, but, being deprived both of the human gesture and voice, I silently expostulated with her (which was all I could do), with my under-lip hanging down, and beheld her sternly and obliquely, yet with humid eyes. But she, as soon as she beheld me thus changed, struck her forehead with her indignant hands, and exclaimed, “ Wretch that I am, I am undone ! Trepidation, and at the same time festination, have beguiled me, and the similitude of the boxes has

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. EOOK III. 63

deceived me. It is well, however, that a remedy for this transformation may be easily obtained ; for, by only chewing roses, you will put off the form of an ass, and will immediately become again my Lucius. And I wish I had prepared for this evening, according to my custom, some garlands of roses ; for then you would not have suffered the delay even of one nio'ht. But, as soon as

it is morning, a remedy shall hastily be procured for you.” After this manner she lamented. But I, though I was a complete ass, and, instead of Lucius, a labouring beast, yet retained human sense.

Lastly, I deliberated much, and for a long time with myself, whether I ought not to slay that most iniquitous and wicked woman, by frequently kicking and biting her. But better thoughts recalled me from the rash design ; lest, by punishing Fotis with death, I should again extinguish for myself salutary succour. Shaking, therefore, my dejected head, dissembling my temporary injury, and submitting to my most severe misfortune, I betake myself to that most excellent horse in the stable, on which I rode, where also I found another ass dwelling, who belonged to my late host Milo. And I thought that this my horse, if there is in dumb animals any secret and natural fidelity, would, being impelled by a certain knowledge and pity, afford me a lodging, and the rites of hospitality. But, by Jupiter Hospitalis, and the secret divinity of faith, that excellent horse of mine, and the ass, moved their heads towards each other, and immediately consented to my destruction ; for, when they beheld me approaching to the manger, with my ears fallen, they furiously attacked me, with hostile heels, fearing for their food ; and 1 am driven far away from that barley which, in the evening, I had placed, with my own hands, before that most grateful servant. Being thus treated, and expelled to a solitary place, I went to a corner of the stable. And while I reflect with myself on the insolence of my companions, and meditate vengeance on my perfidious horse, when, on the following day, I should become

T1IE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

Lucius again by the assistance of roses, I beheld a resemblance of the Goddess Epona, placed in an excavation or niche, in the middle of a pillar, which, also having a middle situation, supported the beams of the stable. This image was carefully adorned with garlands of roses, which had been recently gathered. At length, therefore, recognising my salutary aid, 1 boldly rise, precipitately borne along with hope, making all the exertion I could, with my fore feet extended, and stretching out my neck, and very much advancing my lips, Ϊ most strenuously endeavoured to snatch the garlands. While, however, I was endeavouring to accomplish this, my boy; to whose care my horse had always been committed, suddenly beholding me, indignantly arose and said, How long shall we endure this vile ass, who, a little before, was hostile to the food of the labouring beasts, and now attacks even the statues of the Gods? But I will now cause this sacrilegious beast to be both weak and lame. And immediately searching for something with which he might strike me, he found a bundle of wood, accidentally lying there, and, selecting from thence a leafy staff, larger than all the rest, he did not cease to beat me, unfortunate as I was, till, being frightened by a loud knocking at the doors, and a great tumult, and by the trembling voices of the neighbours, exclaiming there were thieves, he betook himself to flight.

And without delay, a band of robbers having entered the house by violence, seized on every thing in it, and an armed multitude surrounded all the parts of the house. The robbers also, running every where, opposed themselves to those who flew to give assistance. All of them being furnished with swords and torches, illuminate the , nmht ; and the coruscations of swords resembled the light emitted by the rising sun. Then attacking a certain treasury, firmly closed with very strong bars, which was placed in the middle of the house, and was filled Avith the wealth of Milo, they broke it open with powerful axes. And from this, when completely opened, they took away

GOLDEN- ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK III. 65

all the riches, and divided them among themselves, having hastily tied the bundles into which the portions of the booty were made. The multitude of the bundles, however, surpassed the number of those that were to carry them. Then, being brought to extreme poverty, through too great an abundance of wealth, they led forth us two asses, and my horse, from the stable, loaded us with the heaviest burdens they could, and expelled us with the blows of staves from the house which was now empty. Leaving also one of their companions behind as a spy, who might inform them what inquiry was made about the robbery, they led us rapidly, and at the same time frequently beating us, through the trackless paths of the mountains. And now I, through the weight of things of such magnitude, and through the difficulty of ascending to the summit of the mountain, and the length of the way, was not in any respect different from a dead body. It occurred to me, however, late indeed, but seriously, that I should fly to civil aid, and liberate myself from so many miseries, by invoking the venerable name of the emperor.

At length, it being now bright daylight, as we passed through a certain populous village, which was much frequented on account of fairs, I tried to invoke the august name of Csesar, in the midst of a crowd of Greeks, but I could only utter the letter O ! clearly and strongly, and was not able to enunciate the name of Csesar. The robbers also, despising my dissonant clamour, and striking in all parts my miserable hide, left it at length, [through laceration], not even fit for the purpose of a sieve. But, at length, Jupiter, whose providence extends to all things®, procured for me unexpected safety. For while I passed by many small farms, and large houses, I beheld a

e In the original, u Sed tandem mihi inopinatam salutem Jupiter ille tribuit.v And it is well observed by the Delphin editors, that Jupiter { ille is an emphatic expression, signifying that Jupiter who providentially I attends to all things , and regards the miserable.

F

certain very pleasant little garden, in which, besides other delectable plants, there were virgin roses, wet with morning dew. Ardently desiring these, and brisk and joyful with the hope of safety, I came nearer to them. And while, with undulating lips, I long to eat them, a far more salutary thought occurred to me, ? viz. that if I should again become Lucius, being divested of the asinine form, I should meet with certain destruction by the hands of the robbers, who would either suspect me of being skilled in the magic art, or would fear that I should betray them by my accusation. At that time, therefore, I necessarily abstained from roses, and enduring my present fortune, bit my bridle under the form of an ass.

METAMORPHOSIS OP APULEIUS.

BOOK THE FOURTH.

Nearly about mid-day, when the power of the sun causes every thing to be hot, we turned into a certain village, to some old men who were known by, and familiar with, the robbers. For their first salutation, their long conference, and their mutual kisses, enabled me to perceive this, though I was an ass. For they presented them with gifts from the things which were on my back ; and by whispers, seemed to indicate that these gifts were obtained by plunder. And now having lightened us of all our burden, they sent us into the nearest meadow, that we might there freely feed. Society in feeding, however, could not detain me with the ass, or with my horse, because I was as yet unaccustomed to eat hay. But as I was now perishing with hunger, I boldly entered into a little garden which I saw behind the stable, and filled my belly abundantly with potherbs, though they were raw. Invoking likewise all the Gods, I inspected every place, in order to see if by chance I could find in the neighbouring gardens some rose trees resplendent with a fiery redness. For the solitude of my situation now afforded me good hope, that if, being removed from the public road, and concealed by groves of trees, I should, by taking the remedy, be raised on my feet, I then should, unseen by any one, be again transformed into the human shape, from the prone step of a four-footed beast.

Whilst, therefore, I was fluctuating in that sea of thought, I beheld, a little further, a valley shaded by a leafy grove ; among the various plants and most pleasant verdure of which, the bright colour of red roses shone forth to the view. And now in my breast, which was not entirely brutal, I thought that the grove was sacred to Venus and the Graces ; in whose shady recesses, the royal splendour of that genial flower [the rose] was relucent. Then having invoked joyful and prosperous Event3, I ran rapidly, so that, by Hercules, I myself thought that I was not an ass, but that, through excessive velocity, I was changed into a swift horse. That agility, however, and excellent endeavour of mine, could not prevent the malignity of my fate. For when I was now near to this place, I no longer saw those fresh and delectable roses, wet with divine dew and nectar, which felicitous brambles and blessed thorns produce ; nor did I behold any valley, but only the margin of a river’s bank, environed with thickset trees. These trees had oblong; leaves like the laurel, and produced extended and reddish cups, after the manner of a flower that has no scent ; which, nevertheless, are fragrant, are called by the unlearned vulgar by a name not at all rustic, laurel roses, and when eaten, are deadly to all cattle. Being entangled with such adverse fates, and rejecting even safety itself, I spontaneously longed to eat of those envenomed roses. But while I slowly approach in order to pluck them, a certain young man, who, as it appeared to me, was a gardener, perceiving the great loss he had sustained, by my having destroyed all his herbs, furiously ran to me with a great staff in his hand, and taking hold of me, inflicted on me so many blows, that I should have been

a Good, Event, or the cause of prosperity in our undertakings, was adored by the ancients as a God. According to Pliny, (lib. xxxv. cap. 6,) there was a statueof this divinity, as also of Good Fortune, in the capitol at Rome. This deity is one of the twelve Dii Consentes, from the invocation of whom Varro begins his treatise on Agriculture.

in danger of losing my life, unless I had at length prudently given assistance to myself. For with my posterior parts elevated, I frequently kicked him with my hind feet, and having severely punished him, and laid him prostrate at the foot of the next mountain, I liberated myself by flight.

Immediately, however, a certain woman, viz. the wife of the gardener, as soon as she beheld him from an eminence, prostrate and half dead, flew to him, with lamentation and howling, in order that by her own commiseration she might be the occasion of my present destruction. For all the rustics, being excited by her lamentations immediately called out their dogs, and every where incited them, that being driven by fury, they might rush upon and tear me in pieces. I therefore, being without doubt at that time near to death, when I saw that the dogs, who were congregated and exasperated against me, were large and numerous, and fit to fight with bears and lions, availing myself of the counsel suggested by the existing circumstance, put an end to my flight, and again, with rapid steps, returned to the stable from whence I came. But the rustics having seized me, the dogs being with difficulty restrained, and bound me with a very strong thong of leather to the staple of a post, would, without doubt, have scourged me to death ; if my belly, compressed by the pain of the blows, filled with those raw herbs, and disordered with a slippery flux, had not by ejecting dung, as through a tube, driven away some by besprinkling them, and others by the fetid odour which was emitted from my now broken shoulders.

And without delay, it being now nearly noon, the robbers again led us from the stable heavily laden, and especially me, whose burden was far greater than that of the rest. Now also, when a good part of the journey was finished, I being exhausted with the length of the way, oppressed with the weight of the burden, and fatigued with the blows of the staves, and likewise now being lame and staggering, from the worn out condition of my hoofs,

as I was walking near a certain rivulet of gently flowing and winding water, I thought, having happily found an excellent opportunity, I would cunningly lie down with my legs bent under me ; fully determined not to rise from thence, whatever blows might be inflicted on me ; and being also prepared, not only to be beaten, but to die pierced with a sword. For I thought that being now perfectly exhausted and debile, I should be dismissed on account of bodily infirmity : or, that the robbers would certainly divide the burden which I carried on my back, between the two other beasts, partly through impatience of delay, and partly through a desire of accomplishing their destined flight; and that, instead of a deeper revenge, they would leave me a prey to wolves and vultures. My evil destiny, however, prevented the execution of so excellent a design. For the other ass, having divined and preconceived my intention, suddenly feigning lassitude, fell down with all that he carried, and lying as if he was dead, did not endeavour to rise, either by the blows of the staves, or by being pricked or raised in all parts by the tail, the ears, and the legs; till the robbers, being wearied with posthumousb hope, and having conferred with each other, in order that their flight might not be retarded by attending so long on a dead, or rather stony ass, they divided his burthen between me and the horse, cut off his legs with a drawn sword, and drawing him, still breathing, a little out of the public road, threw him down a lofty precipice into a neighbouring valley. Then 1, considering with myself the destiny of my unhappy companion, determined, laving aside guile and fraud, to prove myself to my masters to be a worthy ass. For I heard them saying to each other, that we should soon stop, and that then the whole of our journey would be finished, in consequence of having arrived at the place of their abode.

At length, having passed over a little hill of easy

b i. c. With hope the effects of which are so slow, as not to be obtained till after death.

ascent, we arrived at tlie destined place, where all the bundles being untied, and brought into their habitation, as I was now liberated from my burden, I refreshed myself by rolling in the dust, instead of making use of a bath. Both the thing, however, and the occasion itself demand, that I should here give a description of the places and the cavern in which the robbers dwelt. For thus I shall at the same time make trial of my own genius, and enable the reader to perceive clearly, whether I was also an ass in understanding and sense. There was a dreadful mountain shaded by the trees of a forest, and lofty in the extreme. The oblique windings of this, in the part in which it was surrounded with the most rugged and therefore inaccessible rocks, were environed with valleys full of very deep receptacles of water, and every where thick set with thorns, which afforded a native defence. The streams of a fountain falling from the summit of the mountain, spread themselves in large bubbles, and rolling through the declivities, poured forth water as bright as silver; and being now divided into many rivulets, and irrigating those valleys with stagnant floods, they enclosed the whole like a calm sea, or a sluggish river. Where the borders of the mountain end, a lofty tower rose over the cavern, fortified by a sheepcot consisting of strong hurdles, well adapted for the habitation of sheep, and having its sides every way extended. Before the door, small branches expanded themselves, so as to serve instead of a wall ; and which you might certainly, on my authority, denominate the court-yard of robbers. Nor was it scarcely any thing else than a small cottage, covered in a disorderly manner with reeds ; in which spies, selected by lot from the band of robbers, as I afterwards found, watched by night. Into this place, where they had with difficulty penetrated, one after another, with their members compressed, [on account of the narrowness of the entrance,] I and my companion being secured by a strong bridle before the door, they thus spoke in anger to a certain old woman, who was bent with the weight

of old age, and to whom alone the safety and protection of so many young men appeared to be committed : “ Do you, who are the last relics of the grave, the chief disgrace of life, and the only thing loathed by hell, thus idly sitting at home, sport with us r nor afford any solace to these our labours so great and so dangerous, by at least providing for us a supper, though late? You, who are accustomed to do nothing else by day and by night, than greedily ingurgitate wine in your insatiable stomach.7’ The old woman, trembling and fearful, on hearing them thus speak, replied : “ But, O young men,

my most puissant and faithful preservers, there is an abundance of pottage for you well boiled, with a pleasant flavour. There is also a great quantity of bread ; wine plentifully poured into wrell purified bowls, and warm water prepared according to custom for your hasty bath.” When she had thus spoken, they immediately undressed themselves, and being naked, refreshed by the heat of a great fire, sprinkled with water, and anointed with oil, they reclined before tables largely furnished with food.

They were, however, scarcely seated, when behold a far greater number of other young men entered, whom you would immediately suppose to be similarly thieves : for they also brought with them plunder, viz. gold and silver coin, vases, and silken garments interwoven with golden threads. These being refreshed by similar bathing, seated themselves on the beds of their companions; and some of them, being selected by lot, were ministrant to the rest. They eat and drink in a disorderly manner, and pottage, and bread, and bowls of wine, were heaped in abundance on the tables. They play clamorously, they sing streperously, and they jest contumeliously, and in every thing else resemble the Theban Lapithee, and the semi-brutal Centaurs. Then one among them, who surpassed the rest in strength, said, “ We indeed bravely broke open the house of Milo, of Hypata. And besides so great an abundance of wealth, which we strenuously procured for ourselves, through our fortitude, we departed

to our camps with all our band in safety, and have returned home with an increase of eight feetc, if this is to be at all considered as contributing to our gain. But you, who have robbed in the Boeotian cities, have brought back a debile number of your troop, having lost your most brave leader Lamachus, whose life I should deservedly prefer to all the spoil which you have brought home. His too great fortitude, however, was his destruction. But the memory of so great a man will be celebrated among that of illustrious kings, and the leaders of armies. As to you, who are frugal robbers, you exercise the scrutinizing art in small and servile thefts, timidly creeping through baths, and the little houses of old women.”

To this, one of the latter band replied, u Are you alone ignorant that larger houses are much more easily plundered ? For though large houses contain a great number of servants, yet each of these is more attentive to his own safety, than to the wealth of his master. But men who lead a frugal and private life more sharply defend and guard their fortune, if small, at the hazard of their life : or, if ample, preserve it cautiously concealed. And in the last place, the thing itself will verify what I have asserted. For we had scarcely arrived at Thebes, the city of seven gates, when, while we diligently inquire after the wealth of each of the citizens, (which is the primary study of this our art,) a certain usurer named Chryseros, who was master of a great sum of money, was not concealed from us, who, through the fear of offices and public employments, pretended with great art not to be opulent. Lastly, this man living alone, and remote from others, contented with a small well fortified cottage, but beggarly in his apparel, and sordid in his expenditure, sat brooding over his bags of gold.

“ We agreed, therefore, first to break into his house, in

c Viz. Apuleius and his horse, these being the two quadrupeds which the robbers had brought with them.

order that, despising the resistance of only one hand, [i. e, of the hand of Chryseros,] we might, without any difficulty, quietly obtain all his wealth. Without delay, therefore, as soon as it was night, we waited before his gate, as it did not appear to us to be prudent either to take it off the hinges, or remove it, or break it open, lest the noise of the folding-doors should raise all the neighbourhood to our destruction. Then that magnanimous standard-bearer, our Lamachus, through confidence in his well-tried valour, gradually introducing his hand into that part of the gate which was perforated for the purpose of putting in the key, endeavoured to draw back the bolt. But Chryseros, the most iniquitous of all bipeds, having been for some time awake, and perceiving what was transacted, gradually crept to the door with a gentle step, and at the same time preserving a profound silence, and suddenly, with a most powerful effort, fastened the hand of our leader, with a great nail, to a plank of the door. Leaving him also thus fixed by a deadly bond, he ascended to the roof of the cottage, and from thence vociferating with a very loud voice, beseeching his neighbours, and calling them by their respective names, and admonishing them to regard their common safety, he exclaimed that his house was unexpectedly on fire. Thus every one, being terrified by the proximity of the impending danger, anxiously ran to procure assistance.

“ Then we, being placed in the ambiguous peril either of falling into the hands of those who were alarmed by the cries of Chryseros, or of deserting our companion, devised, by his consent, the occasion requiring it, a strenuous remedy. For we cut off that part of the arm of our leader which joins the hand to the shoulder, by a blow inflicted through the middle articulation ; and having left the arm there, we bound up his wound with many rags, lest the drops of blood should betray our steps, and hastilv took with us what remained of Lamachus. And

J

while, ignorant of the men and the place, we are urged by the great tumult, and terrified into flight by the instant

danger, he, not being able either to follow us rapidly, or to remain where he was securely, the magnanimous and transcendently brave man, entreating us with many words and many prayers, exhorted us by the right hand of Mars, and by the faith of our oath, to liberate him, who wras a good fellow-soldier, from both torment and captivity. For how is it possible that a bold robber can survive his right hand, by which alone he is able to plunder and kill ! He added, that he should be sufficiently happy to be willingly slain by the hand of one of his associates. And when he could not persuade any one of us to commit a voluntary parricide01, he drew his sword with the hand that remained, and having for a long time kissed it, plunged it with a most powerful stroke through the middle of his breast. Then we, venerating the vigour of our magnanimous leader, diligently wrapped his mutilated dead body in a linen garment, and committed it to the sea to be concealed. And now our Lamachus lies buried in all that element. And he, indeed, terminated his life in a manner worthy of his virtues.

“ Moreover, Alcimus could not withdraw himself from the sinister nod of fortune, by his sagacious undertakings. For he having broken open the little cottage of an old woman, while she was asleep, when he had ascended into an upper bedchamber, and ought immediately to have slain her, by strangling her, was willing first to throw to us every thing out of a loftier window, in order that we might take it away. And when he had now strenuously thrown out all her goods, and was not willing to spare even the bed of the sleeping old woman, having rolled her out of it, he prepared, in like manner, to throw out the counterpane which covered her. But the most iniquitous woman, falling at his knees, deprecated him as follows : Why, O my son, I beseech you, do you give the poor and lacerated furniture of a miserable old woman to my opulent neighbours, to whose houses this window extends ?

d This is said χαταχξνο-ηχΑ/ς, abusively.

Alcimus, being· deceived by the crafty cunning of these words, and believing: that what she said was true ; fearing; lest what he had thrown out before, and what he might throw out afterwards, should, through his mistake, not fall into the hands of his associates, but into other houses, thrust his body out of the window, in order that he might sagaciously survey every thing, and particularly the contiguous houses, of which the old woman had spoken. While, however, he was attempting this, strenuously indeed, but without sufficient caution, that most wicked old woman, while yet he was inclining downwards and pendulous, and perfectly astounded with the survey, threw him out headlong, with an impulse which, though feeble, was nevertheless sudden and unexpected. But he, falling not only from a great height, but also on a prodigiously great stone, which happened to lie near the house, separated and burst the articulation of his ribs, and, vomiting rivers of blood, escaped from life without beinolong tormented, having first narrated to us what had been transacted. Him we also buried in a manner similar to the funeral of our former leader, and gave him as a good companion to Lamachus.

“ Then, suffering the wound of a double loss, and rejecting our Theban enterprise, we went to the next city, which is Platea. There we found a certain man of great fame, whose name was Demochares, about to exhibit the spectacle of gladiators. For this man being of most noble birth, and excelling in wealth and liberality procured pleasures for the public with a splendour worthy of his fortune. Where is the man whose genius is so great or whose eloquence is so powerful, as to be able to explain, in appropriate words, the several species of the manifold apparatus? Here were gladiators famous for the dexterity of their hand ; there hunters of well tried celerity ; and in another place, criminals preparing for their banquets with insane tranquillity, food to fatten wild beasts. There were stages consisting of beams fixed in each other, towers formed from the junction of planks,

after the manner of a circumforaneous house, in which were elegant pictures, and which were the beautiful receptacles of the hunting which was to be exhibited [in the Circus.] And besides this, who can enumerate the multitude and the different kinds of wild beasts? For, with the greatest diligence, he had been careful to procure from abroad those noble sepulchres of condemned heads6.

u But, besides the other apparatus of so beautiful a spectacle, he had procured in some way or other, with all the wealth of his patrimony, a great number of very large bears. For, besides those which he had captured by hunting, and besides those which he had bought for a great price, he also solicitously nourished others wdth sumptuous care, which his friends, contending with each other in kindness, had sent him as gifts. This apparatus, however, of the public pleasure, so illustrious and so splendid, could not escape the noxious eyes of envy. For these bears, being wearied with their long captivity, and at the same time macerated with the burning heat of summer, and being also morbid from long indolence, were seized with a sudden pestilence, and reduced to a very inconsiderable number. Hence, you might every where see lying in the streets, ferine shipwrecks of half-animated bodies. Then the ignoble vulgar, whom rude poverty compelled to seek for sordid succour to their emaciated belly, and gratuitous food, began to run to the meat which was scattered every where.

“ Finding this to be the case, I and this Babulus thought of the following subtle stratagem. We brought to our lodging a bear which surpassed the rest in fatness of body, as if we intended to prepare it for food, and having perfectly stripped the skin from the flesh, and carefully preserved all his nails, the head of the beast being also left entire, as far as to the confine of the neck;

e i. e. Wild beasts, whose teeth would be the death, and bellies the sepulchres, of those miserable condemned men.

we attenuate the whole hide by diligently scraping it, and sprinkling it with ashes reduced to a fine powder, expose it to the sun to be dried. And while it is purified by the heat of that celestial fire, we, in the meantime, being powerfully fattened with the muscular flesh of the bear, made those of the troop that were present take the following oath ; viz. that one of our number who excelled the rest, not so much in strength of body as in fortitude, and who especially should undertake this voluntarily, should assume the form of a bear, being covered with that skin, and that also, being brought into the house of Demochares, he should afford to us an easy entrance through the gate, in the opportune silence of the night. This crafty transformation encouraged many of our most valiant associates to engage in the undertaking ; and Thrasyleon, being elected by the suffrages of the band in preference to the rest, adventured the peril of that doubtful machine [the hide of the bear.] And now, with a serene countenance, he concealed himself in the hide, which was now pliable and tractable through its softness. Then we sewed up the extreme parts with a fine seam, and covered the opening of it, though very narrow, with a multitude of surrounding hairs. We also put the head of Thrasyleon into the skin, near the throat, in which the neck of the beast had been cut off. And having left small holes about the nostrils and eyes, for the purpose of respiration, wre enclosed our most brave associate, who was now entirely made a brute, in a cage which we bought for a small sum of money, into which he hastily crept with constant vigour of mind'. Thus, the first principles of the fallacy being begun, we proceeded as follows to the rest :

f In the original, quam constanti vigor e festinus irrepsit ipse, which the Delphine editors erroneously interpret, in quam celeriter se penctravit alacri impetu. For irrepsit cannot be explained by penetravit, nor constanti vigore by alacri impetu . These editors, however, are generally right in their interpretation ; but they sometimes needlessly, and sometimes erroneously, substitute other words for those of Apuleius.

“ Having obtained by inquiry the name of one Nicanor, who derived his origin from a Thracian race, and between whom and Demochares there was the greatest friendship, we counterfeited a letter, in which that excellent friend was made to say, that he had dedicated the first fruits of his hunting to Demochares, as an ornamental gift. And now, the evening being far advanced, trusting to the assistance of darkness, we presented to Demochares the cage in which Thrasyleon was enclosed, together with that forged epistle. But he, admiring the magnitude of the beast, and being delighted with the opportune liberality of his friend, ordered that ten pieces of golden coin should be immediately told out, from the little coffers which he had with him, to us who had brought him so acceptable a present. Then, as novelty is accustomed to excite the minds of men to sudden spectacles, many ran together to the brute, admiring its size, whose more curious inspection our Thrasyleon restrained in a sufficiently crafty manner, by advancing towards them in a threatening attitude ; and the citizens, with one according voice, proclaimed Demochares completely happy and blessed, who, after so great a destruction of wild beasts, had been able to resist, in some wray or other, the attacks of ill fortune, by a new supply. He ordered, therefore, that the beast should be immediately taken to his newlyfallowed land ; and that he should be brought back from thence [when it was requisite] with the greatest care. To this, however, I subjoined, Be careful, sir, that you do not suffer this animal, who is fatigued with the heat of the sun, and the length of the way, to be mingled with a crowd of many wild beasts, and which I hear are not well. But rather provide some place of your house · for him, which is open and exposed to the wind, or rather, which borders on some lake, and is cool. Do you not know that animals of this kind always couch in shady groves and humid caves, and on pleasant hills, and near gelid fountains? Demochares, being alarmed by these admonitions, and considering with himself how many wild beasts

he had already lost, assented, without hesitation, to what I said, and readily permitted us to put the cage wherever wre pleased. But I said. We also are ready to watch by night, in this very place, before the cage, in order that we may more accurately administer meat to the beast seasonably, and give him his accustomed drink, as he is fatigued from the inconvenience of the heat, and the trouble he has suffered [in being brought hither]. To this Demochares answered, We are not in want of your labour ; for now nearly all my servants are, from long custom, skilled in feeding bears.

“ After this, having bade him farewell, wre departed ; and going out of the gate of the city, we beheld a certain monument, raised at a considerable distance from the public road, in a solitary and secret place. There we opened certain coffins which, through rottenness and age, w ere onlv half covered, and which contained dead bodies, that were now nothing but dust and ashes, as the receptacles of our future spoil. And having, according to the rules of our art, observed the time of the night in which the moon does not shine, and in which sleep powerfully invades and oppresses the hearts of mortals with his first impetus, we stopped, with our band armed with swords, before the doors themselves of Demochares, as if wre had come, according to agreement, to plunder his house. Nor did Thrasyleon less accurately creep out of his cage, availing himself of that time of the night which is adapted to theft ; and immediately slew, with a sword, all the guards that were sleeping near him, and, directly after the porter himself. Taking the key also, he opened the folding doors of the gate, and to us, who promptly ran, and were received into the interior parts of the house, he pointed out a treasury, where, in the evening, he had cunningly seen many silver vessels deposited. This being immediately broken open, through the force of our compact cohort, I ordered each of my associates to take as much gold and silver as he could, quickly conceal it in those habitations of the most faithful dead, and, returning

with speedy steps, reiterate his burdens. For I said, that I alone would remain before the doors of the liQuse, attentively observing every thing that occurred, till they returned, as this would contribute to our common good. For it appeared to me that the form of a bear, running through the middle of the house, was adapted to terrify any of the servants who might happen to be awake. For who, however brave and intrepid he might be, would not, on beholding the stupendous form of so great a beast, especially in the night, immediately betake himself to flight, and keep himself, terrified and trembling, in his bolted chamber?

ic Sinister event, however, opposed all these plans, which were prepared with salutary counsel. For, while we were anxiously waiting for the return of our companions, a certain menial boy, being disturbed (so the Gods ordained) by the noise, crept gently forward, and seeing the bear running, without restraint, through the whole house, he observed the greatest possible silence, returned from whence he came, and told to every one, as far as he was able, what he had seen in the house. And, without delay, the whole house was filled with a numerous assemblage of servants. The darkness of the night was illuminated with torches, lamps, wax and tallow candles, and other instruments of nocturnal light. Nor did any one among so great a multitude come without arms, but all of them being furnished with clubs, spears, and drawn swords, occupy and defend the entrance of the house. They also excited those hunting dogs, that have long ears and rough hairs, to repress the beast. Then I, the crowd of servants still increasing, left the house with a retrograde flight ; but, concealing myself behind the gate, I beheld Thrasyleon wonderfully resisting the dogs. For, though he was arrived at the last goal of life, yet, not being forgetful either of himself, or of us, or his pristine fortitude, he struggled against the gaping jaws themselves of Cerberus. Lastly, reclaiming with spirit the scenic person which he had voluntarily assumed, at one time flying, and at

G

another resisting, with the various figures and gestures of his body, he at length escaped from the house. Yet, though he had gained his liberty abroad, he was not able to procure his safety by flight ; for all the dogs of the next street, who were sufficiently fierce, and sufficiently numerous, mingled themselves in troops with those hunting dogs, which, at the same time, came out of the house, and pursued him in a similar manner. I then beheld a miserable and deadly spectacle, our Thrasyleon surrounded and besieged by troops of dogs, cruelly attacking and lacerating him with numerous bites.

“ Lastly, not enduring to see him suffer such great pain, I mingled myself with the surrounding crowd of people, and thus dissuaded the instigators of the dogs, this being the only thing in which I could give secret assistance to my excellent associate : O great and extreme wickedness ! I said, we are destroying a large and very precious beast. My artful address, however, to the crowd, was of no advantage to the most unhappy youth. For a certain tall and robust man, running out of the house, instantly thrust a spear through the middle of the viscera of the bear, and the like was also done by another person. And, behold ! many, having shaken off fear, contended with each other, in drawing near to, and piercing him with their swords. But Thrasyleon, the illustrious ornament of our band, having, at length, that spirit of his which was worthy of immortality vanquished, but not his patience, did not violate the faith of his oath, by any vociferation or howling. But, being now lacerated by the bites of the dogs, cut in pieces by the sword, and imitating with all his might the bellowing of a wild beast, enduring also, with a generous vigour, his present calamity, reserved for himself glory, and rendered back his life to fate. Nevertheless, he had struck that crowd with such great terror and fear, that till the dawn, and even when it was broad day, no one dared to touch the beast, even with his finger, though he was prostrate on the ground. At length, however, a certain butcher, who was a little bolder than the

rest, having slowly and timidly cut open the belly of the beast, stripped the magnificent robber of the bear’s hide, by which he had been concealed. Thus Thrasyleon also perished for us, but has not perished so far as pertains to renown. We, therefore, having immediately collected those bundles which the faithful dead had preserved for us, and quitting, with rapid step, the boundaries of Platsea, frequently considered with ourselves, that no fidelity was to be found in life ; because Faith, hating our perfidy, had descended to the region of departed spirits, and the dead. Thus, all of us being fatigued with the weight of the bundles, and the roughness of the way through which we travelled, and also having lost three of our associates, we have brought these spoils which you see.”

After he had thus ended his speech, they poured out wine from golden bowls, to the memory of their dead associates ; and afterwards, having soothed the god Mars by certain hymns, they slept for a short time. But that old woman distributed to us fresh barley in abundance, and without measure ; so that my horse, indeed, having obtained such great plenty, and enjoying it alone, might think that he was received at a pontifical banquet. I, however, though at other times [while I was a man] I had always eaten barley, gradually broken, diminished by a long continued section, and boiled in broth ; having explored a corner, in which the remainder of the bread, belonging to the whole band, had been heaped together, strenuously exercised my jaws, which had been injured by long fasting, and now began to be covered with the webs of spiders.

And, behold, when the night was far advanced, the robbers, being roused from their sleep, removed their camp ; and, being variously equipped, so that one part of them was armed with swords, but another was transformed into nightly ghosts, they left their abode with hasty steps. Nevertheless, not even impending sleep could prevent me from eating incessantly and greedily. And though before, when I was Lucius, I could depart

from table, contented with one or two loaves, yet then indulging my belly, which was so capacious, I had now nearly eaten the third canister of bread. The bright light of day found me intent on this employment. At length, however, being impelled by asinine shame, but reluctantly departing from thence, I assuaged my thirst in a neighbouring rivulet.

Not long after this, the robbers returned, very anxious and solicitous, bringing with them no bundle whatever, nor even a mean garment, but armed alone with swords, they brought, with all their hands, and with all the forces of their band, a virgin of a beautiful form ; and, as the magnificence of her habit indicated, one of the first rank of that country. This virgin was, by Hercules, an object of desire even to such an ass as I was ; but she was brought in by them, lamenting and tearing her hair, together with her garment. As soon as they had entered into the cavern, they thus addressed her, in words intended to mitigate her grief : *e As you are in perfect security, both with respect to your life and your modesty, give a truce to your sorrow7 for a few days, for the sake of our gain, the necessity of poverty compelling us to adopt this mode of life. But your parents, though they are very avaricious, will, nevertheless, without delay, give, out of the great wealth which they have accumulated, a sum of money adequate to the redemption of their daughter.” By these, and similar babblings, the grief of the virgin was by no means appeased ; for she wept immoderately, with her head placed between her knees. They, however, called to the old woman within the cavern, and ordered her to sit with the virgin, and console her as much as possible with bland conversation ; and then they betook themselves to their accustomed employment. But the virgin could not be recalled from the tears which she had begun to shed, by any words which the old woman employed; but, deploring more profoundly her condition, the agitation which she suffered from her continual sobbing made me also weep. And she thus lamented : “ is it possible, that I, miserable

GOLDEN ASS, OF ALU LEI US.

creature ! can either cease to weep, or consent to live, when deprived of such a house, of so many attendants, of such dear little slaves, and of such venerable parents ; since I am now become the prey of unhappy rapine, am made a slave, servilely enclosed in this stony prison, and prevented from the enjoyment of all those delicacies in which I was born and nurtured, and am placed in doubt of my life, and in fear of the torments of executioners, being thus in the power of so many and such outrageous robbers, and of a horrid band of gladiators V 7 The virgin having thus lamented, and being debilitated with mental grief, the tension of her throat, and fatigue of body, she dismissed her marcid eyes to sleep.

She had scarcely, however, closed her eyes, when, shaking off sleep, after the manner of those who are furiously agitated by the Nymphs, she began to afflict herself much more grievously, and also to beat her breast with her cruel hands, and to strike her beautiful face. Profoundly sighing also, she thus replied to the old woman, who earnestly inquired what were the causes of her new and restored sorrow : “ Now, alas ! I am utterly undone, now I have renounced salutiferous hope. A halter, or a sword, or certainly a precipice, must doubtless be embraced by me.7’ On hearing this, the old woman being somewhat more incensed, ordered her, with a severer countenance, to tell her the cause of her sorrow ; or why, after having been asleep, she thus suddenly renewed her immoderate lamentations. “ Do you design,” said she, “ to defraud my young men of the great sum of money which they will obtain for your redemption ? But, if you persist any farther in indulging this immoderate grief, despising those tears of which robbers make no account, 1 will cause you to be burnt alive.7’ The virgin being terrified by these words, kissed the hand of the old woman, and said, “ Spare me, my parent, and, being mindful of human piety, afford some little aid to my most afflictive condition. For I do not think that commiseration is entirely extinguished in you, who are venerably hoary through more

extended age. In the last place, therefore, survey the scene of my calamity. A beautiful youth of the first rank among his fellow-citizens, whom the whole city publicly elected for its son, and who, besides this, was my cousin, surpassing me by three years only in age, who was nourished and educated with me from infancy, inseparably dwelt with me in the same house, and partook of the same bedchamber and bed, was affianced to me by the mutual affection of holy love, and who sometime since had been destined by nuptial vows to the marriage compact, and was registered as wedded by the consent of our parents ; this youth had immolated victims in the temples, and sacred edifices, accompanied by a great multitude of relatives and neighbours. The whole house was covered with laurel, was luminous with torches, and resounded with the nuptial song. Then my unhappy mother, supporting me in her bosom, gracefully decorated me with nuptial ornaments, and frequently giving me sweet kisses, extended with anxious wishes her future hope of offspring. When, on a sudden, robbers armed like gladiators, rushing in with great violence, raging as in war, and shining with drawn and threatening swords, did not bring with them the hand of slaughter or rapine, but immediately invaded our bedchamber, in a condensed and conglobed band. And without any reluctance, or even the smallest resistance on the part of our servants, they tore me away, miserable creature, lifeless with dire dread, from the bosom of my trembling mother. Thus our nuptials were disturbed and dissolved, like those of Pirithous and the daughter of Athrax^.

“ But, behold ! now also my misfortune is renewed, or rather is increased, by a most inauspicious dream. For I seemed to myself to be violently expelled from my home, from my bedchamber, and lastly, from the bed itself, and

s For an account of the nuptials of Pirithous and Hippodamia, the daughter of Athrax, and of the strife that arose in them between the Centaurs and the Lapithae, see book xii. of Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

hurried through inaccessible deserts, to call on the name of my most unfortunate husband. He, however, as soon as he was deprived of my embraces, even then being perfumed with ointments, and adorned with wreaths of flowers, followed my footsteps, while 1 fled with foreign feeth. And while he loudly implored the assistance of the people, lamenting the rape of his beautiful wife, one of the robbers, being moved with indignation through his importunate pursuit, slew the unhappy youth, my husband, by striking him with a great stone which he found lying before his feet. But I, being terrified by the atrocity of the spectacle, am tremblingly roused from the deadly dream.” Then the old woman, receiving her lamentations with a sigh, thus began : “ Be of good courage, my mistress, and do not terrify yourself with the vain fictions of dreams. For not to mention that the images of diurnal sleep are said to be false, nocturnal visions sometimes signify events contrary to what they represent. Lastly, to weep, to be beat, and sometimes also to be slain, in dreams, announce a lucrative and prosperous event ; while, on the contrary, to laugh, to fill the belly with delicious food, or to be dissolved in venereal pleasure, predict affliction from sorrow, bodily disease, and other evils1. I, however will immediately recal you from grief, by pleasant narrations, and old women’s fables.

“ In a certain city lived a king and a queen, who had three daughters of conspicuous beauty k. Of these, the

h i. e. With the feet of the robbers, who carried her away elevated from the ground.

Thus also Astrampsychus, in his Oneirocriticon, says t

Γελα>ν καθ’ υπνονς $υΐτ<γοξονς εζεις τγοπονς,

ΚλΛίιυν καθ’ υπνους παγγα^νς παντός s<rv.

i. e. “ If you iaugh in your sleep, it indicates to you troublesome events ; but if you weep in your sleep, it signifies that you will be perfectly joyful. v

k The following explanation of this beautiful fable is, for the most part, extracted from the Introduction to a translation of it, formerly made by me, and published in the year 1795.

two elder, though of the most agreeable form, were not thought too lovely to be celebrated by the praises of man-

This table, which was designed to represent the lapse of the soul from the intelligible world to the earth, was certainly not invented by Apuleius : for, as it will appear in the course of this note, it is evidently alluded to by Synesius, in his book on Dreams, and obscurely by Plato and Plotinus. It is clear, therefore, that Plato could not derive his allusion from Apuleius ; and as to Plotinus and Synesius, those who are at all acquainted with the writings of the Greek philosophers, well know that they never borrowed from Latin authors, from a just conviction that they had the sources of perfection among themselves.

I have said, that this fable represented the lapse of the human soul ; of the truth of which, the philosophical reader will be convinced by the following observations. In the first place, the Gods, as I have elsewhere shown, are super-essential natures, from their profound union with the first cause, who is super-essential without any addition. But though the Gods, through their summits or unities, transcend essence, yet their unities are participated either by intellect alone, or by intellect and soul, or by intellect, soul, and body ; from which participations the various orders of the Gods are deduced. When, therefore, intellect, soul, and body, are in conjunction, suspended from this super-essential unity, which is the centre, flower, or blossom, of a divine nature, then the God from whom they are suspended is called a mundane God. In the next place, the common parents of the human soul are the intellect and soul of the world ; but its proximate parents are the intellect and soul of the particular star about which it was originally distributed, and from which it first descends. In the third place, those powers of every mundane God, which are participated by the body suspended from his nature, are called mundane ; but those which are participated by his intellect, are called super-mundane; and the soul, while subsisting in union with these super-mundane powers, is said to be in the intelligible world ; but when she wholly directs her attention to the mundane powers of her God, she is said to descend from the intelligible world, even while subsisting in the heavens.

Thus much being premised, let us proceed to the explanation of the fable. Psyche, then, or soul, is described as transcendently beautiful, and this is indeed true of every human soul, before it profoundly merges itself in the defiling folds of dark matter. In the next place, when Psyche is represented as descending from the summit of a lofty mountain, into a beautiful valley, this signifies the descent of the soul from the intelligible world into a mundane condition of being, but yet without abandoning its establishment in the heavens. Hence, the palace which Psyche beholds in the valley, is, with great propriety, said to be “ a royal house, which

GOLDEN ASS, OF APU LE I U S. — BOOK IV. 89

kind ; but the beauty of the younger sister was so great and illustrious, that it could neither be expressed, nor

was not raised by human, but by divine hands and art.” The gems too, on which Psyche is said to have trod in every part of this palace, are evidently symbolical of the stars. Of this mundane, yet celestial condition of being, the incorporeal voices which attended upon Psyche, are likewise symbolical : for outward discourse is the last image of intellectual energy, according to which the soul alone operates in the intelligible world. As voices, therefore, they signify an establishment subordinate to that which is intelligible, but so far as denudated of body, they also signify a condition of being superior to a terrene allotment.

Psyche, in this delightful situation, is married to an invisible being, whom she alone recognises by her ears and hands. This invisible husband proves afterwards to be Cupid or Love ; that is to say, the soul, while established in the heavens, rs united to love of the purest kind, i. e. to intellectual love, or, in other words, is not fascinated with outward form. Butin this beautiful palace she is attacked by the machinations of her two sisters, who endeavour to persuade her to explore the form of her unknown husband. The sisters, therefore, signify those two powers of the irrational part of the soul, anger and desire , the latter of which powers is well defined by the Pythagoreans to be a certain tendency, impulse, and appetite of the soul, in order to be fdled with something, or to enjoy something present, or to be disposed according to some sensitive energy; just as reason or the rational soul is signified by Psyche. The stratagems of these sisters at length take effect, and Psyche beholds and falls in love with Love; that is to say, the rational part, through the incentives of anger and desire, becomes enamoured of, and captivated with, outward form; in consequence of which Cupid, or intellectual love, flies away, and Psyche, or the rational soul, is precipitated to earth. It is remarkable that Psyche, after falling to the ground, is represented as having u a stumbling and often reeling gait for Plato in the Phsedo says, that the soul is drawn into body with a staggering motion.

After this, commence the wanderings of Psyche in search of Cupid, or intellectual love, from whose embraces she is unhappily torn away. In the course of her journey, she arrives at the temples of Ceres and Juno, whose aid she suppliantly implores. Her conduct, indeed, in this respect, is highly becoming. For Ceres comprehends in her essence Juno, who is the fountain of souls ; and the safety of the soul arises from converting herself to the divine sources of her being.

Iii the next place, Venus is represented desiring Mercury to proclaim Psyche through all lands, as one of her female slaves, that had fled from

sufficiently praised by the poverty of human speech. At length, a multitude of the citizens, and abundance of

her service. It is likewise said that she gave him a small volume, in which the name of Psyche was written, and every other particular respecting her. Now, I think, it cannot be doubted that Synesius alludes to this part of the fable, in the following passage from his treatise on Dreams : u When the soul descends spontaneously to its former life, with mercenary views, it receives servitude as the reward of its mercenary labours. But this is the intention of descent, that the soul may accomplish a certain servitude to the nature of the universe, prescribed by the laws of Adrastia, or inevitable fate. Hence, when the soul is fascinated with material endowments, she is affected in a manner similar to those who, tlrough born free, are, for a certain time, hired to employments, and, in this condition, captivated with the beauty of some female servant, determine to act in a menial capacity, under the master of their beloved object. Thus, in a similar manner, when we arc profoundly delighted with external and corporeal good, we confess that the nature of matter is beautiful, who marks our assent in her secret book ; and if, considering ourselves as free, we at any time determine to depart , she proclaims us deserters , endeavours to bring us back , and , openly presenting her mystic volume to the view , apprehends us, as fugitives from our mistress. Then, indeed, the soul particularly requires fortitude and divine assistance, as it is no trifling contest to abrogate the confession and compact which she has made. Besides, in this case, force will be employed ; for the material inflicters of punishments will then be roused to revenge, by the decrees of fate, against the rebels to her laws.'’

Venus, however, must not be considered here as the nature of matter; for though she is not the celestial Venus, but the offspring of Dione, yet, according to Proclus in Cratylum, she is that divine power which governs all the co-ordinations in the celestial world and the earth, binds them to each other, and perfects their generative progressions, through a kindred conjunction. As the celestial Venus, therefore, separates the pure soul from generation, or the regions of sense, so she that proceeds from Dione binds the impure soul, as her legitimate slave, to a corporeal life.

After this, follows an account of the difficult tasks which Psyche is obliged to execute, by the commands of Venus; all which are images of the mighty toils and anxious cares which the soul must necessarily endure after her lapse, in order to atone for her guilt, and recover her ancient residence in the intelligible world. In accomplishing the last of these labours, she is represented as forced to descend even to the dark regions of Hades ; which indicates that the soul, through being enslaved to a corporeal life, becomes situated in obscurity, and is deprived

strangers, whom the rumour of the exalted spectacle had collected together, full of ardent zeal, stupid with admira-

of the light of day, i. e. of the splendour of truth and reality ; agreeably to which Empedocles sings,

“ I fled from deity and heavenly light,

To serve mad discord in the realms of night.”

But Psyche, in returning from Hades, is oppressed with a profound sleep, through indiscreetly opening the box given her by Proserpine, in which she expected to find a portion of divine beauty, but met with nothing but an infernal Stygian sleep. This obscurely signifies, that the soul, by expecting to find that which is truly beautiful in a corporeal and terrene life, passes into a profoundly dormant state ; and it appears to me, that both Plato and Plotinus allude to this part of the fable, in the following passages, the originals of which may be seen in p. 10 of my Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries. In the first place, then, Plato, in book vii, of his Republic, observes, “ that he Avho is not able, by the exercise of his reason, to define the idea of the good , separating it from all others, and piercing, as in a battle, through every kind of argument; eagerly striving to confute, not according to opinion, but according to essence, and, in all these, marching forward with undeviating reason, — such a one knows nothing of the good itself ‘ nor of any good whatever; but if he has attained to any image of the good, we must say he has attained to it by opinion, not by science; that in the present life he is sleeping, and conversant with dreams, and that, before he is roused, he will descend to Hades, and there be profoundly and perfectly laid asleep And Plotinus, in Ennead. I. lib. viii. p. 80, says, “ The death of the soul is for it, while merged, as it were, in the present body, to descend into matter, and be filled with its impurity, and, after departing from this body, to lie absorbed in its filth, till it returns to a superior conditio!·!, and elevates its eye from the overwhelming mire. For to be plunged into matter, is to descend to Hades , and fall asleep.”

Cupid, however, or intellectual lone, at length recovering his pristine vigour, rouses Psyche, or the rational part of the soul, from her deadly lethargy. In consequence of this, having accomplished her destined toils, she ascends to her native heaven, becomes lawfully united to Cupid (for, while descending, her union with hirn might be called illegitimate), lives the life of the immortals, and the natural result of this union is pleasure or delight. And thus much for an explanation of the fable of Cupid and Psyche. For farther particulars respecting the lapse of the soul, see my introduction to, and translation of, Plotinus on the Descent of the Soul, and my Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries.

tion of her inaccessible beauty, and moving their right hand to their mouths, while their forefinger was placed on their erect thumb, venerated her with religious adorations, as if she had been the Goddess Venus herself.

“ And now fame had pervaded the neighbouring cities and contiguous regions, and had reported that the Goddess whom the azure profundity of the deep brought forth, and the dew of the foamy billows nourished, now, every where exhibiting her divinity, was conversant with the midst of the people ; or certainly, that once more, from a new blossom of the celestial stars, not the sea, but the earth, had produced another Venus, endued with virginlike flower. Thus opinion increased immensely every day ; thus extended fame wandered over the neighbouring islands, a great part of the continent, and a multitude of provinces. Now many mortals, by long journeys on the land, and over the deep passages of the sea, came to behold the glorious specimen of the age ; no one sailed to Paphos, no one to Cnidus, nor even to Cythera, for the spectacle of the Goddess Venus. The sacred concerns of the Goddess were abandoned, her temples were deformed, her ceremonies neglected, her images uncrowned, and her desolate altars defiled with frigid ashes, while a girl was supplicated in her stead, and the divinity of so great a Goddess was appeased in a human countenance ; and the name of the absent Venus was propitiated in the morning progressions, victims, and banquets of the virgin. And now the people frequently assembling in the streets, and throwing flowers entwined in garlands, or loosely scattering them, prayed to her divinity.

“ This immoderate translation of celestial honours to the worship of a mortal virgin, inflamed the vehement mind of the true Venus ; so that, impatient of indignation, and raging high with her agitated head, she thus discoursed with herself : Behold the ancient parent1 of the nature of things, lo, the first origin of the elements ;

1 Sec the Notes on Book XI.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APU LEIUS. BOOK IV. 93

behold the bountiful Venus of the whole universe, the honour of whose majesty is divided with a mortal girl, and whose name, raised to the heavens, is profaned by sordid terrestrials. Indeed, by sharing in common the expiations which are offered to divinity, I sustain an uncertain part of deputed veneration, and a girl obnoxious to mortality bears about my celestial image. It is in vain that the shepherd [Paris], whose justice, and faith the mighty Jupiter approved, preferred me to such great Goddesses171, on account of my illustrious form. But she who thus rejoices, whosoever she be, shall not usurp my honours ; for I will cause her to repent of her illicit beauty. And immediately she calls her son; that winged and sufficiently rash youth, who, with his depraved manners contemning public discipline, armed with flames and arrows, running through other men’s houses by night, and corrupting the matrimony of all, commits such mighty wickedness with impunity, and effects nothing useful and good.

“ Him, though haughty by genuine license, she stimu-* lates by her words : she brings him to the city, and openly shows him Psyche, (for this was the name of the girl,) and having told him the whole tale concerning the emu-

111 The well known fable to which this alludes, is thus beautifully unfolded by the Platonic Sallust, in his golden treatise on the Gods and the World. u In this fable, which is of the mixed kind, it is said, that Discord at a banquet of the Gods threw a golden apple, and that a dispute about it arising among the Goddesses, they were sent by Jupiter to take the judgment of Paris, who, charmed with the beauty of Venus, gave her the apple in preference to the rest. But the banquet denotes the super-mundane powers of the Gods ; and on this account they subsist in conjunction with each other. And the golden apple denotes the world, which, on account of its composition from contrary natures, is not improperly said to be thrown by Discord, or strife. Again, however, since different gifts are imparted to the world by different Gods, they appear to contest with each other for the apple. And a soul living according to sense (for this is Paris), not perceiving other powers in the universe, says, that the beauty of Venus alone is the contended apple.7’

iation of her beauty, groaning and raging with indignation, u I beseech thee,” says she, “ by the leagues of maternal love, by the sweet wounds of thy arrow, by the mellifluous burnings of that flame, to afford thy parent full revenge, through your reverence of me, and severely punish that rebellious beauty. Above all, willingly effect this one thing, that the virgin may be detained by the most ardent love of the lowest of mankind, whom fortune has deprived of his dignity, patrimony, and safety ; and so infirm that he may not find his equal in misery throughout the world.” Having thus spoke, and for a long time, and closely embraced her son with ardent kisses, she sought the neighbouring margin of the refluent shore, and, with rosy feet, trod on the topmost dew of the vibrating waves.

“ Behold, now the water of the profound sea was appeased from its vertex, and the marine train which she just beg'an to wish, appeared without delay, as if she had previously commanded its attendance. The daughters of Nereus were present, singing chorus ; and Portunus rough with his cerulean beard, and Salacia, heavy with her fishy bosom, small Paleemon, the charioteer of a dolphin, the company of Tritons, every where furrowing the sea ; and while this softly blows his sounding shell, that, with a silken covering, resists the unfriendly ardour of the sun, another carries a mirror before the eyes of his mistress, and others swim under the two-yoked car. Such was the train which attended Venus, proceeding to the ocean.

“ In the meantime, Psyche perceived no advantage to herself from her admirable beauty ; she was seen by all, and praised by all ; yet no one, neither kings nor nobles, nor any one of the common people, approached as a

" By Portunus here, or Portumnus, who, by the Greeks, was called Palaemon, Neptune is denoted, as the Delphin editor well observes. For Palannon, who is properly Portunus, is shortly after mentioned as being present.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US.

suitor for her possession in marriage. They admired, indeed, her divine form, but they all admired it as an image artificially polished. Some time prior to this, her two sisters, whose moderate beauty had not been celebrated by mankind, having been married to suitor kings, now obtained happy nuptials ; but the virgin Psyche, sitting desolate at home, lamented her deserted solitude, sick in her body and wounded in her soul ; and, though pleasing to all nations, she hates her beauty in herself. But the most miserable father of the most unfortunate daughter, suspecting the celestial hatred, and fearing the wrath of the Gods, questioned the most ancient oracle of the Milesian God°, and sought of so great a divinity, by prayers and victims, nuptials and a husband for the sorrowful virgin. Apollo, therefore, though a Grecian and Ionian, on account of the builder of Miiesia, gave the following oracle, in Latin verse :

On some high mountain’s craggy summit place The virgin, deck’d for deadly nuptial rites;

Nor hope a son-in-law of mortal race,

But a dire mischief, viperous and fierce;

Who flies through aether, and with fire and sword Tires and debilitates whate’er exists,

Terrific to the powers that reign on high.

E’en mighty Jove the wing’d destroyer dreads,

And streams and Stygian shades abhor the pest.

“ The king, whose days, till then, had been crowned with felicity, on hearing this sacred oracle, returned slowly home, oppressed with sorrow, and disclosed to his wife the mandates of unpropitious fate. Many days were passed, on this occasion, in grief, weeping, and lamentation. But the cruel injunctions of the dire oracle now require to be accomplished. Now preparations were made for the deadly nuptials of the most miserable virgin ; now the nuptial was changed into a funeral torch, and

° i. e. Of Apollo, who had a temple and oracle at Miletus, a city bordering on Ionia and Caria.

the sound of the Zygianp [or conjugal] pipe into the querulous Lydian measure. The joyful hymeneal song closed with mournful howling, and the wretched bride wiped away her tears with her own nuptial veil. The whole city likewise lamented the sad destiny of the royal house, and public mourning was immediately proclaimed on the occasion.

“ The necessity, however, of complying with the celestial mandates, importunately urged the miserable Psyche to her destined punishment. The solemnities, therefore, of the mournful marriage being accomplished with extreme sorrow, the living funeral takes place, followed by all the people, and the weeping Psyche attends not her nuptials, but her obsequies. However, while her sorrowful parents, who were overwhelmed with such a mighty evil, endeavoured to delay the execution of the nefarious sentence, she herself exhorted them to a compliance, in the following words : iC Why do you torture your unhappy old age with long-continued weeping? Why do you waste your spirits, which, indeed, are more mine than yours, with such frequent groans? Why do you deform your countenances, which in my sight are so venerable, with unavailing tears? Why do you lacerate my eyes in your own? Why do you thus tear your hoary hairs? Why thus beat your venerable breasts? These must be the rewards which you are to receive of my surpassing beauty, the truth of which having suffered a deadly blow from villanous envy, you, too late, perceive. Alas ! then should you have wept and lamented, then bewailed me as one lost, when the people and nations celebrated me with divine honours, and when, with one voice, they called me a new Venus, I now perceive, I now clearly see, that I perish through the name of Venus alone. Lead me away, and place me on the rock to which I am destined by the oracle; I am in haste to accomplish these happy nuptials ;

p In Greek, ζυγιος αυλός. Hence Juno, the guardian of the bonds of wedlock, was called Ζύγια } from ζυγός , which signifies a yoke.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK TV. 97

I am in haste to see this my noble husband. Why do I delay ? Why do I avoid his approach, who is bora for the destruction of the whole world ? ”

The virgin, having thus spoke, was silent, and, with undaunted steps, mingled herself with the splendid procession of the people that followed her. They advance to the destined rock of a lofty mountain, on the summit of which, having left the royal maid alone, with the nuptial torches extinguished with their tears, they returned home, with dejected heads and desponding hearts. And her miserable parents, indeed, sinking under the weight of such a mighty calamity, shut up the gates of their palace, hid themselves in darkness, and abandoned themselves to a perpetual night. But the mild gales of the gentlyblowing Zephyr gradually raised Psyche, as she stood, trembling and weeping, on the summit of the rock, her garments through the tranquil breath of the God, orbicularly expanding, and bearing her through the hollows of a valley, at the bottom of the mountain, softly reclined her on the bosom of a flowery turf.

H

BOOK THE FIFTH.

Psyche, therefore, agreeably reclining in the flowery valley, on a bed of dewy grass, the mighty perturbation of her mind being appeased, enjoyed delightful repose. And, being now sufficiently refreshed with sleep, she rose with a more composed mind, and saw a grove, thick planted with vast and lofty trees, and a fountain in the middle of the grove, gently falling with glassy water. Near the lapse of the fountain there was a royal house, which was not raised by human, but by divine hands and art. You might know, from the very entrance of the palace, that you beheld the splendid and pleasant residence of a God. For the lofty ceilings, which were curiously arched with citron-wood and ivory, were supported by golden pillars ; and all the walls were ornamented, in every part, with silver carving, beasts of various kinds presenting themselves to the view, in the vestibule of the palace. Wonderful was the man, indeed, and endued with prodigious skill ; or, rather, it was some demigod or God, who fashioned the silver carving with such exquisite subtility of art.

But the very pavement itself consisted of small shells, admirably decorated with pictures of various kinds. Blessed, thrice blessed, are those who tread on gems and bracelets ! The other parts, too, of this wideextended and regularly disposed palace were precious, beyond all price ; and the walls being every where

strengthened with bars of gold, were so refulgent with their own splendour, that, even in the absence of the sun, they made for the palace a day of its own ; so bright were the bedchambers, the porches, and the folding doors. The furniture, too, was answerable to the majesty of this abode ; so that it might very properly be considered as a celestial palace, built by mighty Jupiter, for his correspondence with mankind.

Psyche, invited by the delightful aspect of the place, approached to it, and, assuming a little more confidence, entered within the threshold of the place. Presently after, being allured by the charms of the beautiful vision, every thing she surveyed filled her with admiration : and, in the more elevated part of the house, she beheld a magnificent repository, in which immense riches were contained. Indeed, there is not any thing in this universe with which this place is not replete. But amidst the admiration which such prodigious wealth excited, this was particularly wonderful, that this treasury of the whole world was not secured by any bars, or doors, or guards.

Here, while the eyes of Psyche were ravished with delight, a voice, denudated of its body, thus addressed her: “ And why, my mistress/' it said, “.are you astonished at such vast riches ? All these are yours. Betake yourself, therefore, to your bedchamber, and refresh your wearied limbs on the bed, and, when you think proper, repair to the bath ; for we, whose voices you now hear, are your servants, who will diligently administer to all your commands, and, while we wait on your person, prepare royal banquets for your repast."

Psyche perceived the goodness of divine providence, and, complying with the admonitions of the incorporeal voices, first refreshed herself with sleep, and afterwards with the bath. Immediately, too, perceiving, in an adjacent semicircular building, near an elevated seat, every apparatus requisite for supper, she willingly reclined herself, considering this place as accommodated to her refreshment ; and, instantly, nectareous wines, and numerous

dishes of various kinds of food, were served in, without any visible attendants, by the mere impulse of a certain spirit; Psyche, at the same time, perceiving no one, but alone hearing certain words, and having voices alone for her servants. After the table was furnished with this splendid banquet, a certain person entered, and sang, without beino· seen ; at the same time an invisible musician played on the harp; and, last of all, her ears were ravished with a full chorus, from an invisible band.

After these pleasures were finished, the evening now persuading to repose, Psyche retired to her bed; and when the night was far advanced, a certain gentle sound approached her ears. Then, fearing for her virginity, on account of the profound solitude of the place, she trembles, and is filled with horror, and dreads that of which she is ignorant beyond any calamity. And now her unknown husband approached, ascended the bed, made her his wife, and hastily left her before the rising of the morning light. Immediately the attendant voices, who were the ministers of the bedchamber, took care of every thing necessary on the occasion. This course was continued for a long time ; the novelty, by its constant repetition (as it was natural it should), became at last delightful ; and the sound of the uncertain voices was the solace of her solitude.

In the meantime, the parents of Psyche grew old in unwearied sorrow and lamentation ; and the report of her destiny becoming more widely extended, her elder sisters came to know all the particulars respecting it, and immediately, being overwhelmed with sorrow, hastened to the presence of their afflicted parents. On that very night, the husband of Psyche thus addressed her (for the hands and the ears were the only media of their present communication) : “ Most charming Psyche, and dear wife, more cruel fortune now threatens thee with a deadly danger, which, I think, ought to be guarded against with the utmost attention. For now your sisters, who are disturbed through the belief of your death, in consequence of endea-

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. BOOK V. 101

vouring to discover the place of your abode, will soon arrive at the rock on which you were lately exposed. If you should chance to hear any of their lamentations, neither make them any reply, nor even turn your eyes towards them 5 for, by doing otherwise, you will be the cause of the greatest grief to me, and of extreme destruction to yourself.'7

Psyche assented, and promised that she would act agreeably to her husband’s desire. But as soon as he, together with the night, w7ere fled, the most miserable Psyche consumed the whole day in tears and lamentations, exclaiming that she was now entirely lost, since, securely confined in a blessed prison, she was deprived of human conversation, and not permitted to give salutary assistance to her sorrowing sisters, nor even so much as to see them. Neither refreshing herself, therefore, with the bath, nor with food, but wreeping abundantly, she retired to rest. But her husband coming more early than usual, and embracing her weeping, thus expostulated with her : “ Is this, my Psyche, what you promised me? What can I, your husband, now expect from you ? What can I now hope for, since, neither by day nor by night, nor even in the midst of our conjugal embraces, you cease to be tormented with grief? But come, act now as you please, and comply with the pernicious desires of your soul. However, wThen you begin too late to repent of your folly, call to mind my serious admonitions.”

Psyche after this had recourse to prayers, and, while she threatens that she shall die if her request is denied, extorts from her husband permission to see her sisters, to assuage their grief and enjoy their conversation. Thus he pardoned the entreaties of his new wife, and permitted her, besides, to present her sisters with as much gold and as many jewels as she pleased ; but he again and repeatedly admonished her, with the utmost earnestness, not to be persuaded, by their pernicious advice, to inquire concerning the form of her husband ; nor by a sacrilegious

curiosity hurl herself from such an exalted fortune, and by this means deprive herself of his embraces.

She thanked her husband for his indulgence, and becoming in consequence of it more joyful; “ But,” says she, “ may I suffer death a hundred times rather than be deprived of thy most pleasing embraces; for 1 love thee most vehemently, thee, whoever thou art, even as I love my own soul, nor would I compare thee to Cupid himself. But this also I beseech you, grant to my prayers, that your servant Zephyr may convey my sorrowful sisters in the same manner in which he brought me hither.” Then, pressing his lips with persuasive kisses, murmuring alluring words, and fondly folding him in her arms, she thus addressed him, in soothing accents : “ My dear husband, sweet soul of thy Psyche, be not averse to my request.” The husband, vanquished by the power of \renus, reluctantly gave his consent, and promised that all things should be accomplished according to her desire ; and afterwards, in consequence of the approach of morning, vanished from the arms of his wife.

But the sisters, having inquired the way, arrived in haste at the lofty rock on which Psyche was left abandoned, and there wept and beat their breasts, till the rocks resounded with their repeated lamentations. And now they called on their miserable sister, by her proper name, till the spreading sound of their mournful voices, gliding down the declivities of the mountain, reached the ears of Psyche, who, distracted and trembling, ran out of her palace, and thus addressed them : “ Why do you in vain afflict yourself with miserable lamentations? I, whom you deplore, am now present ; cease, therefore, your complaints, and at length dry up those tears which you have so long shed for my loss, since you may now embrace her whom you have so vehemently mourned.”

Then, calling Zephyr, she acquaints him with her husband's commands, who, entirely obedient to the mandate of Cupid, brought them, borne on the most gentle

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK V. 103

gales, in safety to Psyche. Now they embrace and are embraced, and mingle their mutual caresses with frequent and hasty kisses; and the joy of finding her alive, after they had considered her as dead, soon put a period to their lamentations and tears. “ But come,” said Psyche, “ enter with me into my house, and recreate your afflicted mind with your Psyche.” Having thus spoken, she led them into her golden palace, brought their ears acquainted with the populous family of voices that were subservient to her commands, and sumptuously refreshed them in a most beautiful bath, and with the delicacies of her immortal table. But as soon as her sisters were satiated with this affluence of celestial riches, they began to nourish envy profoundly in their hearts : and, at last, one of them, with a very particular and curious importunity, inquired who was the master of these celestial possessions ? And who, and what sort of a person her husband was ?

Psyche, however, by no means violated her husband’s injunctions, or suffered them to depart from the secret recesses of her bosom ; but, devising an answer adapted to the occasion, told them that he was a beautiful youth, whose cheeks were yet only shadowed with down, and that he was, for the most part, occupied in rural employments, and in hunting on the mountains. And lest, by any slip in the course of her conversation, she should betray the secret advice, having loaded them with rich presents of gold and jewels, she called Zephyr, and ordered him to carry them to the lofty rock. This being immediately accomplished, these admirable sisters, as they were returning home, burning with the rancour of increasing envy, discoursed much with each other, and at last one of them thus began : “ Do but take notice how blind, cruel, and unjust, fortune has proved! Were you, my sister, pleased to find that we, though born of the same parents, should maintain such a different rank in life ? We, who are elder, are delivered over to be servants to husbands, in a foreign country, far exiled from our

native land and parents ; but this youngest sister, the offspring of exhausted vigour, is raised to the enjoyment of this prodigious affluence, and of a God for her husband, though she does not know how to use, in a proper manner, such an abundance of good. You saw, sister, what a prodigious quantity of bracelets the house contained, what a number of shining garments, what bright gems, and what heaps of gold she treads upon in every part of the palace. If to all this she possesses a husband so beautiful as she asserts him to be, no one in the universe can live a happier life than herself. Indeed, it may happen, through long-continued association, and corroborated affection, that her husband, who is a God, may at length make her a Goddess. By Hercules, it must be so, for she already conducts herself in a lofty manner ; and the woman certainly breathes the Goddess, who has voices for her servants, and commands even the winds themselves. But I, miserable creature, am, in the first place, tied to a husband more aged than my father; and, in the next place, to one who is balder than a gourd, and shorter than a pigmy, and who secures every part of his house with bolts and chains.”

“ But I,” replied the other sister, “ am destined to endure a husband, whose body is distorted with an articular disease ; and though on this account he seldom rewards my pains with conjugal embraces, yet I am forced to spend a great part of my time in rubbing his distorted fingers, which are almost hardened into stone, with foetid fomentations, defiling these delicate hands with nasty rags and stinking poultices ; thus acting the part of a surgeom more than that of a wife. You, indeed, my sister, seem to bear all this with a patient or rather servile soul, (for I will speak what I think, without restraint,) but, for my own part, I can no longer endure that such a blessed destiny should have fallen to one who does not deserve it. For only recollect in what a proud and arrogant manner she behaved towards us. By her boasting and immoderate ostentation, she betrayed the haughtiness of

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. BOOK V. 105

her swelling mind ; of her immense riches gave os but a very trifling part; and immediately after, being weary of our company, ordered us to be turned out of doors, and to be puffed and hissed away. But I am not a woman, nor do I breathe, if I do not hurl her headlong from such mighty possessions. And if our contumely affects you as it ought, let us both join, in vigorous consultation, how we may accomplish this design. In order to this, let us neither acquaint our parents, nor any one else, with our intention, nor inform them that we know any thing of her safety. It is sufficient that we ourselves have seen what it repents us to have seen, and let us not be the messengers of her happy condition to our parents and the people ; for those are not properly blessed whose riches no one is acquainted with. She shall know that we are not servants, but her elder sisters. And now, indeed, let us depart to our husbands, and visit our own poor habitations, for such they are when compared with her abode, and being furnished with more compressed thoughts, let us return with greater firmness to the punishment of her pride.”

The two wicked sisters consider this evil advice as good, and concealing the precious gifts which they had received from Psyche, dishevelling their hair, tearing their faces with dissembled grief, and renewing fictitious tears, returned to their parents. These, however, the wounds of whose sorrows they had again opened by their narration, they hastily take their leave of, big with the madness of envy, and return to their own habitations, machinating nefarious guile, or rather parricide, against their innocent sister.

In the meantime Psyche’s unknown husband thus again admonished her in his nocturnal discourses : “ Do you perceive what a mighty danger fortune is preparing for you at a distance, and which, unless you are more firmly guarded against than you have hitherto been, will soon assault you near at hand ? Those perfidious shewolves are, with mighty endeavours, forming base stratagems against you, the sum of which is, that they may

persuade you to explore my countenance, which, as I have often told you, if you once see, you will see no more. If, therefore, those worst of sorcerers come again, armed with noxious minds, (and I know they will come), avoid all discourse with them ; but if through genuine simplicity and tenderness of disposition, you are not able to accomplish this, at least be careful not to hear nor answer any inquiries concerning your husband. For now we shall have a family of our own, and thy as yet infantine womb is pregnant with an offspring, which, if you conceal my secrets in silence, will be divine, but if you profane them, will be mortal.’’

Psyche rejoiced in the consoling thoughts of a divine offspring, and was elated with the glory which would result from her future pledge, and with the dignity of a maternal name. She, therefore, anxiously numbered the increasing days and departing months, and being ignorant in every thing relative to conception, wondered how her wealthy womb could receive such an abundant increase.

But now those pests and most cruel furies, her sisters, breathing viperous virulence, and hastening their departure, sailed with impious celerity. Then again the momentary husband thus admonished his Psyche ; “ The last day, and the most extreme misfortune, are now arrived. The malicious sex, and hostile blood, have taken arms, removed their camp, drawn the army into battle array, and sounded the charge. Now, thy nefarious sisters are aiming with a drawn sword at thy throat. Alas ! most dear Psyche, what mighty calamities now press upon us ? Take pity, both on yourself and me; and by a religious continence of tongue, deliver your house, your husband, yourself, and our little one, from the misfortune of impending ruin. Neither see, nor hear those wicked women, who, after the deadly hatred which they have conceived against thee, and having trampled on the ties of blood, deserve not to be called sisters, when, like the Sirens, standing on the mountain, they shall make the rocks resound with their deadly voices.”

GOLDEN ASS, OF APUJLEIUS. — BOOK V. 107

Psyche, in words interrupted by sighs and tears, thus replied : “ You have for some time had convincing proofs of my fidelity and taciturnity ; and the strength of my mind shall be no less approved by you in the present instance. Only order Zephyr to repeat his former office, and at least grant me the sight of my sisters, since I am not permitted to behold thy sacred image. By thy fragrant and every way pendulous locks ! By thy cheeks tender, smooth, and like my own ! By thy breast glowing with i know not what kind of heat ! By my hopes of at least knowing thy face in this little one, I beseech thee to comply with the pious prayers of thy suppliant, indulge me in the desired embraces of my sisters, and recreate with joy the soul of Psyche who is devoted to thy will; for then I shall no longer be anxious to explore thy countenance. Now nothing can hinder me from thy embrace, not even the darkness of night, for I hold thee, my life, in my arms.”

The husband being fascinated by these words, and by her soft embraces, wiped away her tears with his fragrant locks, assured her that her desires should be fulfilled, and immediately anticipated the light of the emerging day. But the two sisters who were confederates in mischief, without calling on their parents, direct their course with precipitate velocity from the ships to the rock, and not waiting for the assistance of the elevating wind, leap on high with licentious temerity. Zephyr, however, not unmindful of the royal mandate, though unwilling to execute it, restored them, reclining on the bosom of the gently blowing gales, to the appointed place. Then, with feet equally rapid, they enter the palace, concealing the foe under the name of sister, embrace their prey, and veiling a treasury of profoundly hidden fraud under a joyful countenance, thus flattered her : “ Psyche, not now so slender as you wrere before, since you are now almost a mother, wThat mighty good do you think you bear for us in your womb? With what prodigious joy will you exhilarate the whole of our house ! O how

THE M ETA MORPH OS I S, OR

happy shall we be through the nurture of the golden infant, who, if he corresponds in beauty as he ought to do to his parents, will be born a perfect Cupid.”

Thus, by a dissembled affection, they gradually invade the soul of their sister, who, as soon as they had refreshed themselves from the fatigue of their journey with warm baths, regaled them on a couch in a most splendid manner with all the dainties of a royal banquet. She ordered a harp to speak, and some one immediately sang to its harmony ; flutes to be blown, and they immediately sounded ; a musical band to sing in chorus, and it instantly sang ; and, though invisible, ravished the souls of the hearers with the most mellifluous notes.

But the malice of these wicked women was not softened by the honeyed sweetness of the music ; but turning their discourse to the destined fraudulent snares, they begin in a dissembling manner to inquire what sort of a person she was married to, and from what family he was descended. Then she, through her too great simplicity, having forgot the former account which she had given of her husband, invented a new story respecting him. She told them that her husband was of the next province ; that he carried on a trade with abundance of money ; and that he was now of a middle age, a grey hair being here and there scattered on his head. And without prolonging the conversation any further, she again committed them to the charge of the winds, after she had loaded them with costly presents. But while they return home, sublimely riding on the tranquil breath of Zephyr, they thus discoursed with each other : “ What can wTe say, sister, of the monstrous lies of that foolish creature Ί iVt one time her husband is a young man, with the down just beginning to spread over his chin, and at another time he is of a middle age, shining with hoary hairs. Who can this be, that in a short space of time experiences the alteration of a sudden old age Ί You may depend upon it, my sister, that this vile woman either forged this lie to deceive us, or that she does not herself

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. BOOK V. 109

know the form of her husband. But whichever of these is the case, she must be deprived of these riches with the utmost expedition. Indeed, if she is really ignorant of the form of her husband, she must have married a God, and through this pregnancy of hers, she will present us with a God. However, should she happen to be the mother of a divine offspring, which heaven forbid ! I should immediately hang myself. Let us, therefore, in the meantime return to our parents, and by a wellcoloured deceit, prevent them from apprehending our design.”

The sisters thus inflamed, having called on their parents in a hasty manner, and passed through a night of interrupted sleep ; fly as soon as it was morning to the rock, and by the usual vehicle of the wind, descend rapidly down to Psyche, who, with forced tears, they thus craftily addressed : “ Happy in your own imagina-

tion, and blessed only in your ignorance of evil, you sit here inattentive to your own danger. But we, who watch over your affairs with a vigilant care, are miserably tormented at your lost condition. For, by diligent search, wre have discovered, (nor can we conceal from you the cause of our mutual grief, and your own misfortune), that a vast serpent who glides along the plain in various volumes, whose neck is swoln with noxious poison, and whose mouth widely gapes through profound gluttony, secretly sleeps with you by night. Now call to mind the Pythian oracle, which declared you was destined to marry a fierce and terrible beast ; and many of the inhabitants of this place, who haunt all round the country, have observed him returning home from his prey in the evening, and gliding through the shallows of the neighbouring river. These declare, that he will not long feast you with delicious delicacies, but that, as soon as a full womb shall have given maturity to your pregnancy, he will then devour you as a richer morsel. So that you have only to consider whether you will comply with the desires of your sisters, who are anxious for your dear

THE METAMORPHOSIS, OH

preservation, and avoiding death, live with us secure from danger, or be buried in the bowels of a most cruel beast. But if vou are wedded to the vocal solitude of

J

this country retreat, or to the filthy and dangerous enjoyment of clandestine venery, and the embraces of a poisoned serpent, we have at least acted like pious sisters in thus admonishing you of your danger.”

Then the miserable Psyche, as being full of simplicity? and of a pliant disposition, is seized with terror at the dire relation, and being thus quite beside herself, loses the remembrance of all her husband’s admonitions and her own promises, and hurls herself headlong into a profound abyss of calamity. Trembling, therefore, and pale, and with an almost lifeless voice, she thus addressed them in broken words : “ You, indeed, most dear sisters,

have acted as it was proper you should, with becoming piety towards me ; and it appears to me that those who gave you this information, did not invent a lie. For I have never yet beheld my husband’s face, nor do I know who or what he is ; but only hearing him by night, I endure a husband of an uncertain condition, and one that perpetually avoids the light of day. 1 am, therefore, of your opinion, that he is some monstrous beast, who always terrifies me from attempting to behold him, and threatens some prodigious evil as the consequence of curiosity respecting his countenance. Now, therefore, if you are able to give any salutary assistance to your sister, who is thus dangerously situated, defer it not for a moment.”

These wicked women, having thus found an avenue to their pernicious design, by a full discovery of their sister’s condition, laying aside the concealments of covered artifice, invade the trembling thoughts of the simple girl with the drawn sword of deception. At length, therefore, one of them thus began : “ Since the ties of blood oblige us to have no fear of danger before our eyes in the pursuit of your safety, we will discover to you the only way which leads to your preservation, and which has

GOLDEN ASS, OF A PU LEI US.— BOOK V. Ill

been the result of long-continued cogitation. Secretly conceal a very sharp razor, which has been perfectly well set, in that part of the bed on which you are accustomed to lie ; and provide likewise an elegant lamp, full of oil, and shining with a splendid light. Hide this lamp in some part of the enclosing tapestry ; and having acted with the utmost secrecy in these preparations, as soon as with furrowed steps he ascends the accustomed bed, is stretched at length, and held fast in the fetters of his first and soundest sleep, then silently leaving the bed, and tripping along softly with naked feet, free the lamp from its dark concealment, take advantage of its light to accomplish your illustrious undertaking, and with a bold heart, elevated right hand, and strenuous exertion, cut off the head of the noxious serpent. Nor shall our assistance be wanting to you in this affair ; but we shall wait near with impatient anxiety, till you have procured your own safety by his death ; and then bringing away with you all your invisible attendants, we will join you, who are a woman, in votive nuptials to a man.”

With such pernicious discourse, having inflamed the bosom of their now perfectly ardent sister, they left her, fearing in the highest degree the very confines of such a mighty evil ; and by the wonted impulse of the winged gale, being raised on the rock, immediately hurl themselves from thence with rapid flight, and having ascended the ships, depart to their respective habitations.

But Psyche being left alone, if she can be said to be alone, who is hurried along by pernicious Furies, is tossed with sorrow like a raging sea ; and though her designs were fixed, and her mind was obstinately bent to accomplish what she intended, yet now she was beginning to apply her hands to the impious work, she staggers with uncertain determinations, and is distracted with the apprehension of her approaching calamities. She is now full of speed, then dilatory ; now bold, then fearful ; now diffident, then angry ; and what is the most wonderful of all, in the same body she loves the husband, and hates

Till·: METAMORPHOSIS, OR

the beast. However, as soon as the evening drew on the night, she prepares with precipitate haste the instruments other nefarious enterprise.

The night came, the husband was present, and after the first embrace, he fell into a profound sleep. Then Psyche, who was otherwise of an imbecile body and mind, yet, the cruelty of fate assisting her, is now corroborated. Hence, taking out the lamp, and snatching the razor, her boldness transformed her sex. But as soon as, by the light of the lamp, the secrets of the bed stood revealed, she saw the most mild and sweet of all wild beasts, even the beautiful God Cupid himself, most beautifully lying on the bed ; by whose aspect the lamp itself participated of hilarity, and the razor repented itself of its sacrilegious edge.

But Psyche, terrified at the amazingly beautiful countenance of the God, impotent of mind, sinking through deadly paleness, and trembling, fell on her knees, and could not tell where so properly to hide the steel, as in her own bosom, which, indeed, she would have done, had not the razor, afraid of a crime so prodigious, fled just then out of her rash hand. And now, as she kneels weary on the ground, by often beholding the beauty of his divine countenance, she finds herself refreshed. She sees the genial locks of his golden head, largely anointed with ambrosia; the ringlets gracefully entangled, wandering over his milky neck and purple cheeks, some pendulous before, and some behind, by whose excessive radiance the very light of the lamp shone with a wavering splendour. On the shoulders of the volatile God, wings of a shining whiteness were seen ; and though they were not in motion, yet the outward tender and delicate down, tremulously rebounding, was unquietly wanton. The rest of' his body was smooth and elegant, and such as Venus did not repent of bringing forth. At the foot of the bed lay his bow, his quiver, and his arrows, the propitious weapons of the mighty God.

These while Psyche with an insatiable mind handles.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APUCEIUS, — BOOK V. 113

and explores with eager curiosity, and admires her husband’s arms, she draws out of the quiver one of the arrows, and with the tip of her finger touching the point to try its sharpness, by the bold pressure of her trembling hand she pierced the flesh so deep, that some small drops of rosy blood spread themselves with dewy sprinkling on her skin; and thus ignorant Psyche voluntarily fell in love with love. Then, burning more and more with the desire of Cupid, gazing on his face with insatiable eyes, and multiplying petulant kisses, her only fear was, lest he should wake too soon.

But while, astonished through such a mighty good, her wounded mind fluctuates, the lamp, whether through vile perfidy, or noxious envy, or whether it longed to touch, and as it were, kiss such a beautiful body, threw out a drop of boiling oil from the summit of its light on the right shoulder of the God. Strange, O bold and rash lamp, that thou shouldst burn the very God of all fire, though some lover first invented thee, that he might for a longer time enjoy by night the object of his desire. The God, thus burnt, leaped from the bed, and seeing the evidence of forfeited fidelity, silently flew away from the eyes and hands of his most unhappy wife. But Psyche immediately, with both her hands, caught hold of his right leg as he was mounting, being the miserable appendix of his sublime flight through the cloudy regions, till at length, through weariness, she fell to the ground.

Her lover God, however, not yet deserting her, as she lay on the ground, flewT to a neighbouring cypress tree, and being severely agitated, thus spoke to her from its lofty top : u Most simple Psyche, I, unmindful of the commands of my mother Venus, who ordered me to cause you to be enamoured of some mean and miserable son of the vulgar, chose rather to fly to you as a lover myself. I know that I have acted in this respect lightly, and 1, who am so excellent an archer, have wounded myself ! with my own arrow, and have made you my wife, that I might, it seems, be considered by you as a beast, and that

you might cut off my head, which bears those very eyes by which you are beloved. This was the danger of which I so often warned you to beware ; this was the mischief I so benevolently admonished you to consider. But those egregious counsellors of yours shall speedily suffer from me the punishment of such pernicious advice ; while you I shall only punish by my flight.” Thus spake Cupid, and with the conclusion of his speech sprang with his pinions on high.

But Psyche lay prostrate on the ground, gazing on her soaring husband as long as he remained in sight, and afflicting herself with lamentations in the extreme. When, however, by the rowing of his wings, distance had rendered him invisible, she threw herself from the bank of the next river headlong into its stream. But the gentle river, in honour of the God, who used to burn the waters themselves, and fearing for himself, immediately, on the back of an innoxious wave, delivered tier safe to the flowery bank.

It happened at that time, that the rural God Pan sat on the margin of the river, embracing the Goddess Cannaa, and teaching her to sing in all manner of gentle strains. Near them a wanton herd of kids browsed on the grassy bank. The shagged God, who was not ignorant of the misfortune of Psyche, called her gently to him, and thus allured her in soothing language : c< Most elegant girl, I am indeed a rural person, and a shepherd ; but through the benefit of an extended old age I have acquired abundance of experience; and if I rightly conjecture, since prudent men boast the power of divination, from your stumbling and often reeling gait, from the extreme paleness of your countenance, from your perpetual sighing and sorrowful eyes, you labour under an excess of love. Listen, therefore, to me ; attempt no more to drown yourself, or to put an end to your existence by calling any other kind of death to your assistance ;

‘ This alludes to thp well-known fable of Syrinx and Pan.

I

but cease to grieve, lay aside your sorrow, and rather by prayers worship Cupid, the greatest of the Gods, and strive to please him by bland obsequiousness, as he is a delicate and luxurious youth.”

The pastoral God having thus spoken. Psyche made no reply, but adoring the salutary divinity, departed from the place. But before she had travelled far, with painful steps pursuing an unknown path, she drew near to a city in which the husband of one of her sisters was king. This, as soon as she understood, she desired that her arrival might be announced to her sister. Psyche was accordingly introduced to her, and when the embraces of mutual salutation were over, to her sister inquiring the cause of her visit, she thus began : “ You doubtless remember the advice you gave me, I mean, that I should destroy with a razor the beast that lay with me under the name of a husband, before, through voracious gluttony, he destroyed me : but as soon as, by the assistance of the conscious light, I beheld his countenance, I saw a spectacle perfectly wonderful and divine, the very son himself of the Goddess Venus, Cupid himself I say, sunk in gentle sleep. And while struck with astonishment at the sight of such a mighty good, and disturbed through too great an abundance of pleasure, I laboured under the want of enjoyment, by a most dire misfortune, the boiling oil bubbled to the summit of the lamp, and leaped on the shoulder of the God. Being immediately awakened by the pain, when he beheld me armed with the weapon and the light, ‘ From whence, said he, proceeds this dire wickedness of thine? Immediately quit my bed, and depart from my sight. I will now immediately join myself in marriage to your sister (mentioning you expressly by name,) and then he ordered Zephyr to blow me beyond the boundaries of his habitation/ ”

Psyche had scarcely ended her narration, when the sister, agitated by the incentives of lust and baneful envy, having deceived her husband by a preconcerted fiction respecting the death of her parents, immediately set sail

for the rock on which Psyche had been exposed ; and though another wind then blowed, yet, elated with blind hope, she exclaimed, “ Receive me, Cupid, a wife worthy thy embraces; and thou, Zephyr, receive thy mistress.” Then leaping up as high as she was able, she fell headlong from the mountain, unable even when dead to arrive at the palace of Cupid. For her limbs were torn in pieces by the rocks as she fell, and her bowels became, as they deserved to be, food for birds and beasts of prey. Nor wras the venaeance which remained to be inflicted slow in its approaches : for Psyche with wandering steps arrived at another city, where her other sister reigned, who, deceived, and sinning in the same manner, hastened to the rock, and died just in the same way her sister had done before.

In the meantime, while Psyche wandered over various realms, anxiously searching after Cupid, he, through the pain of the wound from the lamp, lay groaning in the bedchamber of his mother. Then that extremely white bird, the sea-gull, who swims with his wings on the waves of the sea, hastily merged himself in the profound bosom of the ocean. There, placing himself near Venus, as she was bathing and swimming, he informed her that her son was severely burnt, that he was groaning with the pain of the wound, and that his cure was doubtful. That, besides this, the whole family of Venus was every where reviled ; in the first place, Cupid, because he had retired to a mountain, in order to have illicit connexion with a girl ; and, in the next place, said he, yourself, by thus withdrawing to swim in the sea. Hence it is said, continued the bird, that there is no longer any pleasure, elegance, and festivity to be found, but that every thing is inelegant, rustic, and horrid ; that nuptial ties, social friendships, and love of children, are no more ; but that in their place have succeeded enormous filth, and the bitter loathing of sordid compacts. Thus did this loquacious and impertinent bird defame the son of Venus, by murmuring scandal in her ear.

But Venus, being enraged at the information, suddenly

GOLDEN ASS, OF A PU LEI US. BOOK V. 117

exclaimed, in a firm tone of voice, “ So, then, this hopeful son of mine has got a mistress ! Come, tell me, thou who alone dost serve me with affection, tell me the name of her who has solicited the ingenuous and naked boy, and whether she is one of the tribes of Nymphs, or of the number of the Goddesses, or of the choir of the Muses, or belonging to my train of the Graces?” The loquacious bird was not silent : “ But, my mistress,” said he, “ I am not certain, though, if I well remember, he is said to have been vehemently in love with a girl, whose name is Psyche.” Then Venus, being indignant, exclaimed, “ Does he then love her who is the rival of my beauty, and who is emulous of my name? And does he mean to make me, who first brought him to the knowledge of her, act the part of a bawd ?”

Thus complaining, she immediately emerged from the sea, and hastened to her golden bedchamber, where she found her son sick, as she had been told, and so vehemently raving through the pain, that she heard him before she reached the doors. “ This is fine conduct, indeed !” said she, “ and very agreeable to our dignified birth, and your temperance. In the first place, that you should trample on the precepts of your mistress and mother, and, so far from tormenting my enemy with sordid love, take her to your licentious and immature embraces, on purpose that I might suffer the indignity of having my enemy for my daughter-in-law. Doubtless thou dost presume, thou trifler, corrupted and unbeloved boy, that I am too old to have another son. Know, therefore, that I will beget another son, much better than thou art ; or rather, that you may be more sensible of the disgrace, I will adopt one of my little slaves, and on him will I bestow those wings and flames, that bow, and those arrows, and all my furniture, which I gave you for purposes very different from those to which you employ them : for you received no part of this apparatus from your father’s possessions. But thou hast been of a perverse disposition from thy very childhood, and hence it is that thou hast so often

THE M ETA Μ O HP HOS IS, OR

struck thy elders, and even thy mother herself, even me, thou parricide. Besides, you despise me as if I were a widow; nor are you afraid of your valiant tather-in-law, the mighty warrior God, whom, to my torment, you have supplied with many a virgin. 1 shall take care, however, to make you repent of this frolicsome trick of yours, and render your nuptials sharp and bitter.

“ However, being thus derided, what shall I do ? Where shall I betake myself? Howt shall I punish that little deceiver? Shall 1 solicit assistance of my enemy Sobriety, whom I have so often offended, through the luxury of this fraudulent boy? Must I have recourse to that rustic and filthy woman ? I abhor the very thought ; yet the consolation of revenge is not to be despised. I must therefore apply to her, and to her alone ; for she will most severely chastise this triffer. She will rifle his quiver, disarm his arrows, unbend his bow, extinguish his torch, and punish his body with still sharper remedies. Then I shall believe atonement has been made for the injury I have received, when I have shaved off those locks, which, with these hands of mine, 1 have so often bound with a golden bandage, and cut off those pinions, which I have dyed in that nectareous fountain, my bosom.”

Having thus given vent to her passion, full of venereal bile, she rushed impetuously out of doors. But Ceres and Juno immediately attended her, and, perceiving her angry countenance, asked her why she did so great an injury to the gracefulness of her sparkling eyes, by such a sullen contraction of her brows ? To whom Venus thus replied :

You are come very opportunely to be the executioners of that violence which has taken possession of my ardent breast. I beg, therefore, that with the utmost care and diligence you will inquire after the fugitive Psyche ; for the infamous report respecting my house, and the conduct of my unworthy son, cannot be unknown to you.”

Then the two Goddesses, being ignorant of what had happened, thus endeavoured to mitigate the raging anger of Venus: “ What offence has your son committed, that

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULETUS. — BOOK V. 119

you so violently oppose his pleasures, and are impatient to destroy her whom he loves? What crime, we beseech you, can he be charged with in loving, without restraint, a beautiful virgin? Can you be ignorant of his sex and youth? Or have you, indeed, forgot how old he is? What, because he carries his years elegantly, would you always consider him as a boy? Is it possible, that you, who are his mother, and besides this a woman of understanding, can be determined always to pry inquisitively into his sport, blame his luxury and amours, and reprobate, in your beautiful son, your own arts and delights ? But what God or man will suffer you to disseminate every where among the people amorous desires, when you restrain the gallantry of your own house, and thus shut up the public shop of female vices?” The fear of his darts induced them to pay this flattery to absent Cupid, in a gracious patronage of his cause. But Venus, indignant that her injuries were thus ridiculously treated, with haughty mien and hasty step, passed on to the ocean.

BOOK THE SIXTH.

In the meantime, Psyche was driven about from place to place, variously wandering, and with restless mind inquiring after her husband ; her desire of finding him increasing in proportion to the difficulty of the search. For, though she had incurred his anger, she hoped she should be able to appease him by suppliant prayers, if she could not allure him by the tender blandishments of a wife. Perceiving, therefore, a temple on the summit of a lofty mountain, i ‘ How can I tell,” said she, i( but this may be the residence of my lord and immediately she directed her hasty steps thither, incited by hope and desire, though spent with unceasing toil. And now, having gained the highest ridges of the mountain, she enters the temple, in which she saw ears of corn, some of which lay in a heap, some were twisted into garlands, and some were mingled with ears of barley. Here, likewise, were sithes, and all the instruments of harvest, but scattered in a confused and careless manner, and thrown, as is usually the case in the heat of summer, out of the weary hands of the reapers.

Psyche, on seeing this confusion, curiously separated the mingled heaps, and properly arranged them, when separated, believing that she ought not to neglect the temples and ceremonies of any divinity, but that she should implore the benevolent pity of all the Gods. The bountiful Ceres, whose temple this was, finds her

thus anxiously and sedulously employed, and addresses her, at a distance, as follows : “ Alas ! miserable Psyche, Venus, full of rage and indignation, inquires after thy footsteps with anxious search, dooms thee to the most severe punishment, and importunately demands revenge, with all the powers of her divinity. Canst thou therefore now busy thyself about my affairs, or think of any thing else but thy own safety ?”

Then Psyche, throwing herself at the feet of the Goddess, watering them with abundant weeping, and sweeping the ground with her dishevelled locks, entreated pardon of her divinity with numerous prayers. “ I beseech thee,” says she, “ by thy fruit-bearing right hand, by the joyful ceremonies of harvest, by the occult sacred concerns of the cistse, by the winged car of thy ministrant dragons, the furrows of the Sicilian soil, the rapacious chariot, and the detaining earth, by the dark descending ceremonies attending the marriage of Proserpine, and the ascending rites which accompanied the luminous discovery of thy daughter, and by other arcana which Eleusis, the Attic sanctuary, conceals in profound silence b, support the soul of Psyche thy suppliant ! Suffer me to conceal myself in that heap of corn, for a few days, till the raging anger of so great a Goddess is mitigated by time ; or at least permit me to stay here till my bodily powers, weakened by long -continued labour, become invigorated by an interval of rest.”

To this prayer Ceres thus replied : “ I am moved by your weeping supplications, and desire to assist you ; but I cannot with propriety incur the displeasure of a kindred Goddess, to whom I am united by an ancient league of friendship. Depart, therefore, from this temple immediately, and take in good part my not detaining and making you a prisoner.”

Psyche, being thus repulsed, contrary to her hopes, and oppressed with a double sorrow, retired from the

b See ray Dissertation on the Eleusinian aivd Bacchic Mysteries.

temple, and in a dark grove of the valley, beneath the mountain, beheld a fane of elegant structure ; and, unwilling to omit any way, though dubious, which might lead to better hope, and determined to implore the pardon of every God, she suppliantly approached the sacred doors. Here she perceived splendid gifts, and parts of garments interwoven with golden letters, fixed to the branches of the trees, and the pillars of the temple ; the letters signifying, that these were votive offerings for benefits received, and exhibiting the name of the Goddess to whom they were dedicated.

Then Psyche, throwing herself on her knees, and embracing the altar, having first wiped away her tears, thus prayed : “ O sister and wife of the mighty Jupiter! whether thou dost possess the ancient temples of Samos, which glories in thy querulous infancy, and in thy nurture; or whether thou dost frequent the blessed seats of the happy Carthage, which adores thee as a virgin, riding through the heavens in a lion-yoked car; or dost preside over the illustrious walls of the Argives, near the banks of Inachus, which celebrates thee now married to the Thunderer, and Queen of the Gods! O! thou whom all the east venerates under the name of Zygia, and all the west denominates Lucina ! be thou, Juno, the saviour in this my extreme misfortune, and deliver me, weary with the toils of such long-continued labours, from the fear of my present impending danger; for I know that thou art accustomed voluntarily to relieve the distresses of the pregnant.”

Juno immediately presented herself to Psyche supplicating, in all the august dignity of her divinity, and said, “ I would most willingly have my daughter-in-law, Venus, yield to your prayers ; but decency will not permit me to act contrary to the will of Venus, whom I have always loved as my own daughter. Besides, the law forbids me to receive into my protection any fugitive servant, without the consent of her mistress.”

But Psvche, now terrified with this second shipwreck

GOLDEN ASS, OF A PU LEI US.— - BOOK VI. 123

of her fortune, and despairing of being able to recover her volatile husband, having laid aside all hope of safety, thus consulted with her own thoughts. What other relief for my sorrows can now be either attempted or procured since even Goddesses cannot, though willing, afford me assistance? To what place shall I again direct my wandering steps, when entangled in such inextricable nets? Concealed in what habitations or darkness, can I escape the inevitable eyes of the mighty Venus? Assume, therefore, a masculine mind, my soul, bravely renounce all thy vain little hopes, voluntarily surrender thyself into the hands of thy mistress, and try, though late, to mitigate her rage by the modesty of thy behaviour. Besides, thou mayest perhaps find him in the house of his mother, whom thou hast so long sought for in vain.” Being thus prepared to enter on her dubious duty, or rather certain destruction, she considered with herself how she should begin her supplications to Λ'Τηυβ.

Venus, however, refusing to employ earthly remedies in her inquiries after Psyche, returned to heaven. She orders the chariot to be made ready, which Vulcan, having fabricated with subtle skill, arched like the homed moon, and precious with a waste of gold, had presented her before the consummation of her marriage. Four white doves, out of many that nestled about the bedchamber of their mistress, joyfully turning about their painted necks, assume the yoke, decorated with gems, and, having taken up their mistress, gladly fly with her to heaven. The chariot of the Goddess was attended by a flock of sparrows, wantoning with loud chirpings, and by other birds who sing sweetly ; all of them announcing the approach of Venus in the most mellifluous notes.

The clouds give way, the heavens unfold themselves to their daughter, and the lofty aether receives the Goddess with joy; nor does the singing family of Venus fear opposing eagles, or rapacious hawks. Then immediately she directed her steps to the royal palace of Jupiter, and proudly demanded the necessary assistance of the vocal God

Mercury; nor did the azure brow of Jupiter refuse assent. Then Venus, accompanied by Mercury, joyfully descended from heaven, and, in her flight, thus anxiously addressed him : “ My Arcadian brother, you well know that your sister, Venus, never did any thing without the presence of Mercury, nor are you ignorant how long I have sought in vain for my lurking female slave. Hence nothing remains to be done, but for you to proclaim her in a public manner, and propose a reward to him that shall find her. Take care, therefore, that my commands are speedily executed, and clearly describe the marks by which she may be known, that no one may plead ignorance for the crime of unlawfully concealing her.” At the same time, she gave him a small volume, in which the name of Psyche was written, and every other particular respecting her, after which she immediately returned home. Nor was Mercury negligent in the performance of her commands ; for, running every where, through all nations, he cried her in the following words: “ If any one can seize in

HER FLIGHT, OR DISCOVER WHERE A FUGITIVE KING’S DAUGHTER, A SERVANT OF VENUS, AND OF THE NAME

of Psyche, lies concealed, let him or her repair to Mercury, the crier, at the temple of Venus Murtiac, and receive, as a reward of the discovery, SEVEN SWEET KISSES FROM VENUS HERSELF, AND ONE EXQUISITELY DELICIOUS TOUCH OF HER CHARMING TONGUE.”

Mercury having thus executed the proclamation of Venus, the desire of such a mighty reward excited ardent endeavours in all mortals to obtain it, and this circumstance took away from Psyche all thoughts of any further delay. And now, as she approached the gates of her mistress, she was met by one of the servants of Venus, named Custom, who immediately exclaimed, as loud as she was able, “ At length, then, most wicked slave, do you begin to know that you have a mistress ? And do

e So called from the myrtle tree, which is sacred to Venus.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. BOOK VI. 125

you likewise pretend to be ignorant of the great fatigue we have endured in endeavouring to find you out? But it is well that you have fallen into my hands ; for now you have entered within the very gates of hell, to receive, without delay, the punishment of such obstinate contumacy.

After she had thus reviled Psyche, she audaciously twisted her hands in her hair, and dragged her along without resistance. But Venus, as soon as she beheld her thus brought into her presence, burst into a loud laugh, such as agitates those who are transported with vehement rage ; and, shaking her head, “ At length,” says she, “ have you thought proper to come and pay your respects to your mother-in-law ? Or did you rather come to see your sick husband, who is yet dangerously ill through the wound which you gave him? But take courage, for your reception will be such as a good mother-in-law ought to give. Where then,” said she, “ are my servants Solicitude and Sorrow ?” These, immediately attending, in obedience to the commands of their mistress, scourged and inflicted other torments on the miserable Psyche, and afterwards brought her again into the presence of Venus.

Then Venus, again laughing: “ Behold,” said she, “ her swelling belly moves my compassion, since it is through this that she is to make me a happy grandmother. Happy, indeed, am I, who, in the very flower of my age, shall be called a grandmother ! And the son of a vile slave shall be dignified with the appellation of the grandson of Venus! Though, indeed, 1 foolishly call him my grandson ; for marriages unequal, and, besides this, made in a village, without any witnesses, and without the father’s consent, can never be deemed legitimate ; so that thy offspring must be a bastard, even if I should suffer thee to bring him into the light.”

Having thus said, she flew upon her, rent her garments in many places, tore her hair, beat her on the head, and severely chastised her in various ways. Then, taking wheat, barley, millet, poppy-seed, vetches, lentils, and

THE ΜΕΤΑ M OK PH OS IS, OR

beans, and, mixing· them into one globular heap, she thus spoke to her: “ You seem to me a servant so deformed, as to be incapable of deserving your lover by any other means than the diligent performance of menial employments. I will, therefore, myself make trial of your abilities as a housewife. Take and separate this mass of seeds, and having properly disposed the several grains apart from each other, give me a proof of your expedition, by finishing the task before evening.” Thus spoke Venus, and immediately after departed to a wedding supper.

But Psyche, astonished at the prodigious command, sat silent and stupid, without moving a hand to the disordered and inextricable mass. Then a little ant, a native of the fields, vehemently commiserating such prodigious difficulty and labour, and execrating the step-mother’s cruelty towards the wife of the mighty God Cupid, rapidly summoned together the populous tribe of neighbouring ants, and thus addressed them : “ Take pity, ye active nurslings of the all-parent earth ! Take pity, and with prompt celerity assist the wife of Love, a beautiful young woman, who is now in a dangerous situation.”

immediately the six-footed people rushed forth to her assistance in undulating tribes, and with the utmost diligence separated the whole heap, grain by grain, and, having properly sorted the confusedly mingled species, rapidly vanished from her sight.

But Venus, on the commencement of night, returns from the nuptial banquet, moist with wine, fragrant with rich ointments, and having her body elegantly bound with shining roses. And as soon as she saw the diligence which had been exerted on the wonderful labour, Most vile creature,” said she, u this is not the work of your hands, but of his whom, to your own and his misfortune, you have pleased and, throwing her a piece of household bread, she retired to rest.

In the meantime, Cupid was very closely confined to his bedchamber, in the interior part of the house, partly lest he should injure his wound by petulant luxury, and

partly lest he should associate with his beloved. Thus the lovers, being separated from each other under one roof, passed away, exhausted with grief, the cruel night. But as soon as Aurora had ushered in the morning, Venus having called Psyche, thus addressed her : u Do you perceive yonder grove which stretches itself to a considerable distance along the margin of a river, whose deepest whirlpools look down upon a neighbouring fountain? There shining sheep of a golden colour wander about, feeding without a shepherd. I think it fit that you should bring me immediately a flock of that precious wool, whatever may be the difflculty of procuring it.”

Psyche willingly rose, not with any intention of executing this command, but to procure rest from her misfortunes, by hurling herself headlong from the rock into the river. But when she came to the brink, a reed, the sweet nurse of music c, being divinely inspired, thus prophetically spoke in soft and harmonious murmurs : “ Psyche! exercised in mighty sorrows, neither pollute my sacred waters by thy most miserable death, nor yet venture to approach the formidable sheep on the opposite bank, while, borrowing heat from the burning radiance of the sun, they are transported with savage rage, and are the destruction of mortals, either by their sharp horns, stony foreheads, or venemous bites. But when the meridian sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood lulled them to rest, then you may hide yourself under yonder lofty plane tree, which drinks of the same river with myself, and as soon as the sheep have mitigated their fury, on shaking the leaves of a neighbouring grove, you will find the woolly gold every where sticking to the roots of the trees.” Thus the simple and humane reed taught the wretched Psyche how to accomplish this dangerous enterprise with safety.

Psyche, therefore, observing all the directions, found

c So called because the pipe of Pan was formed of reeds joined together.

her obedience was not in vain, but returned to Venus with her bosom full of the delicate golden fleece. Yet she was not able to procure the approbation of her mistress by this her second perilous labour. But Venus, smiling bitterly with severe eyebrows, thus addressed her: “ I am not ignorant that you are not the performer of this task also; but I will now try whether you are endued with a courageous mind and singular prudence. Do you see the summit of yonder lofty mountain, from which the dusky waters of a black fountain fall, and which, confined in the channel of the neighbouring valley, irrigate the Stygian marshes, and supply the hoarse streams of Cocytus? Bring me immediately in this little urn, liquid dew drawn from the most inmost influx of the lofty fountain.” Thus speaking, she gave her a vessel of polished crystal, and at the same time threatened her more severely than before.

But Psyche, with the utmost celerity, ascended to the very summit of the mountain, presuming that there at least she should find the period of her most miserable life. However, when she arrived at the confines of the vertex, she saw the deadly difficulty of the vast undertaking. For a rock enormously lofty, and inaccessibly rugged, vomited from its middle the horrid waters of the fountain, which, immediately falling headlong in winding streams, rushed suddenly through a narrow channel into the neighbouring valley. On the right and left hand they creep through hollow rocks, over which fierce dragons stretch out their long necks, and with unwinking vigilance keep a perpetual watch. And now the vocal waters shook themselves, and exclaimed as they rolled along, “ Depart ; what do you attempt ? Look and see what you do ; take care, fly, or you will perish.”

Psyche, therefore, petrified through the impossibility of accomplishing the task, though she was present in body, was absent in mind, and being perfectly buried under the huge bulk of the inextricable danger, was even deprived of the benefit of tears, the last solace

I

of the wretched. But the sorrow of the innocent soul is not concealed from the penetrating eyes of Providence. For the rapacious eagle, that royal bird of Jupiter, on a sudden flew to her with expanded wings, calling to mind his ancient obligations to Cupid, for enabling him to elevate to heaven the Phrygian cup-bearer [Ganymedes] to Jupiter ; and reverencing the divinity of Cupid, in the labours of his wife, deserted the lofty paths of Jupiter, and bringing with him seasonable assistance, thus addressed her : “ Can you, in other respects of an undesigning disposition, and unexperienced in attempts of this kind, ever hope to steal one drop of this most holy and no less terrible fountain ? Have you not heard, at least, that these Stygian waters are formidable even to Jupiter himself, and that as you swear by the divinity of the Gods, so they are accustomed to swear by the majesty of 3tyxe? But give me that little urn.” Immediately, therefore, taking it in haste, and poising it on his moving wings, he sailed between the cheeks of raging teeth, and the three-forked vibrating tongues of the dragons, and steering his course to the right and to the left, drew off the reluctant waters, which previously admonished him that he might depart in safety, because he pretended that Venus herself wanted some of the water, and had ordered him to procure it. And on this account, his access to the fountain w7as facilitated.

Psyche, therefore, joyfully receiving the full urn, returned with the utmost celerity to Venus. Yet she was not able, even by the accomplishment of this dangerous enterprise, to appease the anger of the raging Goddess. For, threatening her with still more severe endurance, she thus addressed her, a smile, the harbinger of ruin, accompanying her words : “You appear to me to

e Styx, considered according to its first subsistence, appears to me to j be that cause by which divine natures retain an immutable sameness of j< essence. The immutability, therefore, of divine energy, is signified jlby the Gods swearing by Styx,

K

be a profound and malevolent magician, or you never could with so much dexterity have performed my commands : but there is one task more, my dear, which you ought to perform. Take this box, (she immediate lygave it to her), and direct your course to the infernal regions and the deadly palace of Pluto. Then presenting the box to Proserpine, say, Venus requests you to send her a small portion of your beauty, at least as much as may be sufficient for one short day ; for she has consumed all the beauty she possessed, through the attention which she pays to her diseased son. But return with the utmost expedition; for it is necessary that I should adorn myself with this beauty of Proserpine, as I must go to the theatre of the Gods.”

Psyche was now truly sensible, that she was arrived at the extremity of her evil fortune; and clearly perceived that, all further pretences being laid aside, she was impelled to immediate destruction, since she was forced to direct her steps to Tartarus and the shades below. Hence, without any farther delay, she ascended a lofty tower, that she might from thence hurl herself headlong : for she considered that she should thus descend by a straight road, and in a beautiful manner, to the infernal regions. But she was no sooner arrived there, than the tower suddenly addressed her in the following words :

“ Why, O miserable creature, dost thou seek to destroy thyself by falling headlong from hence ? And why dost thou rashly sink under this thy last danger and endurance? For as soon as thy breath shall thus be separated from thy body, thou wilt indeed descend to profound Tartarus, but canst not by any means return from thence. Listen, therefore, to me. Lacedaemon, a noble city of Achaia, is not far from hence. Near this city, concealed in devious places, seek Tenarus ; for there you will find the cavity through which Pluto breathes, and the impassable road presents itself to the view through the yawning gates. As soon as you have passed the threshold of this cavity, you proceed in a direct

path to the palace of Pluto. You ought not, however, to pass through those shades with empty hands, but should take a sop of barley bread, soaked in hydromel, in both your hands, and in your mouth two pieces of money. And now, when you have accomplished a good part of your deadly journey, you will meet a lame ass laden with wood, with a driver as lame as himself, who will ask you to reach him certain cords to fasten the burden which has fallen from the ass ; but be careful that you pass by him in silence. Then, without any delay, proceed till you arrive at the dead river, in which Charon, immediately demanding his fee, in his patched boat ferries over the passengers to the farthest shore.

“ Avarice, therefore, lives among the dead. Nor does Charon himself, nor the father Pluto, though so great a God, do any thing gratuitously. The poor man, dying, ought to prepare his viaticum ; and no one suffers him to expire without having money at hand. To this squalid old man give one of the pieces of money which you carry with you ; yet in such a manner, that he may take it with his own hand from your mouth. While you are passing over the sluggish river, a certain dead old man, floating on its surface, and raising his putrid hand, will entreat you to take him into the boat. However, be careful that you are not influenced by an unlawful piety. Having passed over the river, and proceeded to a little distance from thence, certain old women, weaving a web, will request you to lend them a helping hand ; but it is not lawful for you to touch the web. For all these, and many other particulars, are snares prepared for you by Venus, that you may drop one of the sops out of your hands. But do not suppose that this would be a trifling loss ; since the want of only one of these sops, would prevent your return to light. For a huge dog, with three necks, and heads sufficiently large, fierce, and formidable, barking with his thundering jaws, terrifies in vain the dead, whom he cannot injure; and always watching before the threshold and black palace of Proserpine, guards the

empty house of Pluto. Having appeased this dog with one of your sops, you may easily pass by him, and then you will immediately enter into the presence of Proserpine herself, who will receive you in a very courteous and benignant manner, desire you to repose yourself on a soft seat, and persuade you to partake of a sumptuous banquet. But seat yourself on the ground, and having asked for a piece of common bread, eat it. Then telling your message, and receiving what you came for, bribe the cruelty of the dog by the remaining sop. Afterwards, having given to the avaricious ferryman the piece of money which you have reserved, and passed his river, you will return to the choir of the celestial stars. But, above all things, I think you should particularly be cautious not to open or even look on the box which you carry, or explore that concealed treasury of divine beauty.” In this manner the propitious tower delivered its prophetic admonitions.

Psyche, therefore, without delay, proceeded to Tenarus, and taking in a proper manner her pieces of money and her sops, ran down the infernal avenue. Here, having passed by the lame ass in silence, given the ferryman his fee, neglected the entreaties of the floating corpse, despised the fraudulent prayers of the spinsters, and lulled the rage of the horrid dog with a sop, she penetrated the palace of Proserpine. Nor did she accept the delicate seat, or delicious banquet; but humbly sat at the feet of Proserpine, and being contented with a piece of common bread, delivered her embassy from Venus. Immediately after this, she received the box secretly filled and shut ; and having barred the barking of the dog by the fraud of the remaining sop, and given the ferryman the other piece of money, she returned from the infernal regions much more vigorous than before. Then again enjoying and adoring the fair light of day, though she was in haste to finish her errand, she was seized with a rash curiosity : u Behold,” said she, “ what a foolish bearer am I of divine beauty, who do not even take the least portion of it, that I may by this means

appear pleasing in the eyes of my beautiful lover.” As she ended this soliloquy, she opened the box ; but it contained no beauty, nor indeed any thing but an infernal and truly Stygian sleep, which being freed from its confinement, immediately invades her, oppresses all her members with a cloud of profound sleep, and detains her, fallen down in the very place where she opened the box ; so that she lay motionless, and nothing else than a sleeping corpse.

But Cupid, being now recovered of his wound, and not enduring the long absence of his Psyche, glided through the narrow window of the bedchamber in which he was confined, and having his wings invigorated by repose, flew far more swiftly than before ; and dispelling the sleep from the prying fair, and again concealing it in its ancient seat, the box, roused Psyche with an innoxious touch of one of his arrows. “ And behold,” said he, “ miserable creature, thou wouldst again have perished by a similar curiosity. Now, however, strenuously perform the task imposed on thee by my mother, and I myself will take care of the rest.” Having thus spoke, the lover raised himself on high with the rowing of his wings, and Psyche immediately carried the present of Proserpine to Venus.

In the meantime, Cupid, wasting away through excess of love, and dreading the sudden severity of his mother, returns to his armoury, and having with rapid wings penetrated the summit of heaven, supplicates the mighty Jupiter, and defends his cause. Then Jupiter, stroking the little cheeks of Cupid, and kissing his hand, thus addressed him : “ Though you, my son, endued with the authority of a master, never pay me that reverence which has been decreed me by the synod of the Gods, but perpetually wound this breast of mine, by which the laws of the elements and the revolutions of the stars are governed, and frequently defile it with earthly intrigues, contrary to the laws, the Julian edict f, and public disci-

f Alluding to the law against adultery, instituted by Augustus Caesar,

T1IE METAMORPHOSIS, Oil

pline, injuring my reputation and fame by base adulteries, and sordidly changing my serene countenance into serpents, fire, wild beasts, birds, and cattle ; yet remembering my own moderation, and that you have been nursed in these hands of mine, I will accomplish all

that you desire ; and at the same time you must be sensible that you ought to guard against your rivals, and to recompense me for this service, by presenting me with any girl of transcendent beauty that may now happen to be upon the earth.”

Having thus spoke, he ordered Mercury immediately to summon all the Gods to attend ; and at the same time to proclaim, that, if any one of the celestials was absent, he should be fined ten thousand pieces of money. Through fear of this, therefore, the celestial theatre being immediately fdled, lofty Jupiter, sitting on his sublime throne, thus addressed the assembly of Gods : “ Ye conscript Gods, whose names are registered in the white roll of the Muses, you are all well acquainted with that youth whom I have reared with my own hands, and the fiery impetus of whose first years I thought would have been restrained by some bridle or other. It is sufficient that he is every day defamed in conversation, for the adulteries and all manner of corruption of which he is the cause. Every occasion of this is to be taken away, and his puerile luxury ought to be bound in nuptial fetters. He has made choice of a girl, and deprived her of her virginity. Let him, therefore, hold her, let him possess her, and embracing Psyche, always enjoy the object of his love.’’ Then turning his face to Venus, “ Nor do you, my daughter,” said he, u be sorrowful on this occasion, nor fearful that your pedigree and rank will be disgraced by a mortal marriage ; for I will now cause the nuptials not to be unequal, but legitimate, and agreeable to the civil law.” Immediately after this, he ordered Mercury to bring Psyche to heaven ; and as soon as she was arrived, extending to her a cup of ambrosia, “ Take this,” said he, “ Psyche, and be immortal ; nor shall Cupid ever

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK VI. 135

depart from thy embrace, but these nuptials of yours shall be perpetual.”

Then, without delay, the wedding supper was served in great abundance. The husband, reclining at the upper end of the table, embraced Psyche in his bosom ; and in this manner, Jupiter was seated with Juno, and after them, the other Gods and Goddesses in their proper order. Then Jupiter was presented with a bowl of nectar, which is the wine of the Gods, by that rustic youth [Ganymedes], his cup-bearer ; but Bacchus supplied the rest. Vulcan dressed the supper; the Hours purpled over every thing with roses, and other fragrant flowers ; the Graces scattered balsam ; the Muses sang melodiously ; Apollo accompanied the lyre with his voice ; and Venus beautifully danced with steps in unison with the delightful music. The order, too, of the entertainment was, that the Muses should sing the chorus, Satyrus play on the flute, and Paniscus^ speak to the pipe. Thus Psyche came lawfully into the hands of Cupid ; and, at length, from a mature pregnancy, a daughter was born to them, whom we denominate Pleasure. After this manner, that delirious and intoxicated old woman related these particulars to the captive virgin.

I, however, who stood not far from her, lamented, by Hercules, that I had not the means of committing to writing such a beautiful fable. But behold, the robbers return laden, having finished I know not what severe battle. Nevertheless, some of them who were more prompt in mind, having left those that were wounded at home, that they might be cured of their wounds, were desirous of going, in order to bring away the other bundles of plunder, which, as they said, they had concealed in a certain cave. And having hastily devoured their dinner, they turned me and my horse into the road, intending to load us wfith those bundles ; and striking us

s One of the satyrs of the wood.

with staves, they led us, wearied with the many acclivities and windings of the road, towards evening, to a certain cavern, from whence they quickly brought us back, not suffering us to refresh ourselves for the smallest portion of time. They also hastened away with such great trepidation, that, frequently striking me, and impelling me against a stone which lay in the road, they caused me to fall down. In consequence of this, they scarcely suffered me to rise, being again struck with many blows, and severely hurt in my right leg and left hoof. On this occasion, one of them said : How long shall we feed in vain this ruptured ass, and who now also is lame ? And another said : He came to our house with an ill omen, and from that time we have not obtained any considerable gain, but we have only suffered blows, and the loss of our bravest associates. Another again observed : Certainly, as soon as he has brought home, though unwillingly, these burdens, I will immediately hurl him headlong, that he may become most delectable food for vultures.

While those mildest of men h debate with each other about my death, we had now reached our home; for fear had made wings of my hoofs. Then, having hastily removed our burdens, and paying no attention to our safety, nor even thinking of my death, but taking with them the associates whom they had before left at home wounded, they immediately entered into their place of abode, in order to relate, as they said, the tediousness produced by our tardity. Nevertheless, I was not a little tormented by the contemplation of the death with which I was threatened, and I said to myself : Why dost thou stand still, O Lucius, or why do you now wait for the last calamity that can befall you? Heath, and that of the most cruel kind, is decreed for you by the robbers, nor is the accomplishment of the thing attended with any great difficulty. Do you not perceive those neighbouring pre-

b It is scarcely necessary to observe that this is said ironically.

cipices, and, in these, sharp and prominent rugged rocks, which, penetrating into you wherever you may fall, will cause a discerption of your members? For that illustrious magic of yours has alone given to you the face and the labours of an ass, but has surrounded you not with the thick hide of that animal, but with the delicate skin of a horse-leech. Why do you not, therefore, assume a masculine mind, and consult your safety while you are permitted so to do? An excellent opportunity of flight will be afforded you during the absence of the robbers. Are you afraid of the vigilance of a half-dead old woman, whom you may bring to an end with one blow of your lame foot? But whither shall I fly, or who will receive me under his roof? This cogitation, indeed, of mine is stupid, and perfectly asinine ; for what traveller would not gladly take away with him a beast on which he might ride ? [Notwithstanding, however, this conference with myself,] I immediately, with a strong effort, broke the thong by which I was tied, and hurried away with the swiftness of a quadruped.

Yet I could not escape the sharp eyes of the crafty old woman ; for, as soon as she saw me free, assuming a boldness above her sex and age, she laid hold of the thong, and endeavoured to lead me back again. I, however, being mindful of the deadly purpose of the robbers, was not influenced by any pity, but immediately threw her on the ground, by striking her with the hoofs of my hind feet. But she, though prostrate on the earth, nevertheless tenaciously held by the thong, so that for a short time she followed, in consequence of being drawn by me. She also immediately began, with clamorous howlings, to implore the assistance of a stronger hand. But she in vain endeavoured to procure help by her lamentations ; for there was no one but the captive virgin alone, that could afford her aid, who, being excited by the clamour, ran out of the cave, and saw, by Hercules, a most remarkable spectacle, the old woman, Dirce, hanging not from a

bull, but from an ass1. But the virgin, assuming a virile fortitude, dared to engage in a beautiful enterprise. For, wrestinp; the thong; from the hands of the old woman, she restrained my impetus with bland words, strenuously got on my back, and again incited me to hasten away. And I, impelled by the desire of a voluntary flight, and, at the same time, by a wish to liberate the virgin, and also by the incitement of the blows with which she frequently admonished me, beating the ground, in my quadruped course, with an equestrian celerity, I endeavoured, by braying, to answer the delicate wTords of the virgin. Sometimes, also, turning my neck, and pretending to scratch my back, I kissed the beautiful feet of the virgin.

Then she, profoundly sighing, and looking to heaven with a solicitous countenance, “ O ye Gods,” she said, “ give at length assistance to me in my extreme danger ; and thou, O more cruel Fortune, now cease to be severe. You have been sufficiently appeased by these my miserable torments. And you [addressing herself to me], who are the defence of my liberty and of my life, if you bring me home safe, and restore me to my parents and my beautiful lover, what thanks shall I not give you, what honours shall I not bestow upon you, and what food shall I not afford you? For, in the first place, I will adorn that mane of yours, after it has been well combed, with my virgin necklaces. And, after having curled the hairs that hang over your forehead, I will gracefully separate them ; and will, with all diligence, comb the hairs of your tail, which, through negligence, are intricate and rough. Decorating also you, who are my preserver, with many golden ornaments, which will cause you to be resplendent like the celestial stars ; and, leading you in triumph, while

Apuleius here alludes to the story ofDirce, the wife of Lycus, king of Thebes, whom he married after he had divorced Antiope. Zethus and Amphion tied her to the tail of an untamed bull, and dragged her about; but the Gods compassionately changed her into a fountain.

the people joyfully follow, I will daily fatten you, by bringing to you nuts, and milder food, in my silken apron.

“ But neither amidst that delicate food, profound leisure, and the blessedness of the whole of your life, shall a glorious dignity be wanting to you. For I will leave a perpetual monument of my present fortune, and of divine providence ; and I will dedicate, in the vestibule of my house, an image of my present flight, depicted in a tablet. This history, also, though rude, shall be narrated in fables, and delivered to posterity in the writings of the learned; viz. the history of a royal virgin flying

FROM CAPTIVITY ON THE BACK OF AN ASS. You shall likewise be numbered among the miracles of antiquity. For, from the example of your true history, we shall believe that Phryxus swam, sitting on a ram, that Arion piloted a dolphin, and that Europa sat on a bull. And if Jupiter truly lowed under the form of a bull, something also may be concealed in my ass, viz. either a human countenance, or a resemblance of the Gods.”

While the virgin often repeats this, and mingles frequent sighs with her vows, we came to a certain place where three roads met; and then she, seizing me by the cord which was tied about my head, greatly desired to lead me into the road on the right hand, because that way would conduct her to her parents. But I, who knew that the robbers had taken that path, in order to bring away the remainder of their spoil, strenuously resisted, and thus silently, in my own mind, expostulated with her :

What are you doing, O unhappy virgin ? What do you attempt? Why do you hasten to Hades? And what is it which you strive to effect with my feet? For you will not only be the cause of your own, but likewise of my destruction.” Thus, while we were contending to go in different directions, and dispute concerning the lordship of the ground and the division of the path, as if in a legal process about the limits of land, the robbers.

burdened with their plunder, perceived us, and knowing us at a considerable distance, by the light of the moon, saluted us with a malignant laugh; and one of their number thus addressed us : “ Whither, with hasty steps, are you proceeding by moonlight, and do not fear the shades and ghosts that are seen at a more advanced period of the night? Do you hasten, O most excellent virgin, to visit your parents privately? But we will afford a defence to your solitude, and will point out to you a shorter way to your friends.” lie had no sooner said this, than, extending his hand, and seizing my reins, he turned me back again, and was not sparing in beating me cruelly with the knotted staff which he carried in his hand. Then I, unwillingly returning to prompt destruction, recollected the pain of my hoof, and began, with an inclining head, to walk lame. He, however, who turned me back, said : “ So, then, do you again stumble and stagger ? And are your rotten feet able to fly away, but know not how to walk ? A little before this, however, you surpassed the winged celerity of Pegasus.”

While this beneficent associate thus jested with me, at the same time beating me with his staff, we had now arrived at the outward enclosure of the robbers' abode. And, behold, we found that old woman, with a rope tied about her neck, suspended from a certain branch of a lofty cypress tree. But the robbers, taking her from thence, immediately precipitated her, bound with her own rope ; and, having put the virgin in chains, they attack, with savage minds, the supper which the unhappy old woman had prepared for them, with posthumous diligence. And, while they devour every thing with greedy voracity, they now began to deliberate with themselves about our punishment, and their own revenge, and their opinions were various, as is usually the case in a turbulent crowd. Hence, the first of them that spoke, thought that the virgin should be burnt alive ; the second persuaded them to expose her to wild beasts; the third was of

opinion that she should be crucified ; and the fourth, that she should be mangled by various torments. She was, however, certainly condemned to die, by the suffrage of all of them.

Then one of them, having appeased the tumult of all the rest, thus began to speak, in mild language : “ It does not accord with the ordinances of our association, nor with the clemency of each of us, nor indeed with my moderation, to suffer you to inflict punishment without measure, and which exceeds the magnitude of the crime ; nor that you should employ for this purpose wild beasts, or the cross, or fire, or torments, or invoke the hasty darkness of a rapid death. Listening, therefore, to my counsel, grant life to the virgin, but that life which she deserves. Nor can you forget vrhat you some time ago decreed respecting that ass, who was always sluggish, indeed, but a prodigious eater, and who now also, through the deception of a fictitious debility, was the instrument and servant of the virgin’s flight. It will be well, therefore, to cut his throat tomorrow, and, having taken away all his intestines, to sew up the virgin naked in the middle of the belly of the ass, whom she has preferred to us ; so that, her face alone being outwardly apparent, the ass may confine, in the beastly embrace of his belly, the rest of her body. Then let the ass, in which the virgin is thus sewn up, be exposed, on some stony rock, to the heat of the burning sun. Thus both of them will suffer every thing which you have rightly decreed. For the ass will suffer death, which he has long ago deserved ; but she will endure the bites of wild beasts, when her limbs have been gnawed by worms ; the flagrancy of fire, when the sun shall have burnt the belly of the ass with his excessive heat ; and the torment of the cross, when dogs and vultures draw out her most inw^ard viscera. But enumerate also the rest of her infelicities and torments. In the first place, she will remain alive in the belly of a dead beast ; in the next place, her nostrils will be replete with

a most fetid vapour ; and, in the third place, she will waste away with the deadly hunger of protracted fasting, and will not have her hands at liberty, by which she might procure for herself death.” After he had thus spoken, the robbers go into his opinion, not with feet, but with their whole soul. Which decree when I heard with my great ears, what else could I do than lament that I should be a corpse on the next day ?

BOOK THE SEVENTH.

As soon as, the darkness being dispersed, the fair light of day appeared, and every thing was illuminated by the splendid chariot of the sun, a certain person, who was one of the number of the robbers, approached ; for it might be conjectured that he was one of them by their mutual salutations. This man, sitting at the entrance of the cavern, after he had recovered his breath, and was able to speak, made the following narration to his companions :

“ With respect to what pertains to the house of Milo, of Hypata, which we lately plundered, we may now, having dissipated our solicitude, be secure. For after you, O most brave men, had returned to our cave, all the property of Milo having been taken away by you, I being mingled with the crowd of the citizens, and resembling one who was grieved and indignant at what had happened, observed what counsel would be taken for an investigation of the robbery, and whether, and to what extent, they would inquire after the robbers : in order that I might relate to you every particular, conformably to your mandates. And one Lucius, whom I know not, was accused by the according consent of all the multitude, as the evident author of the robbery, and this not with dubious arguments, but with probable reasons. This Lucius, not long before, by false commendatory letters, feigning himself to be a worthy man, firmly conciliated himself with Milo, so that being hospitably

received by him, he was ranked among the number of his intimate friends. And when he had remained there not a few days, having insnared the mind of a maid servant of Milo with false love, he diligently explored the bolts and bars of the house, and curiously surveyed those parts of it in which all the patrimony was usually deposited. This, also, was considered as no small indication of the crime which he had committed, that he fled on the very same night at the time of the robbery, and has not been heard of since. For an aid to his flight was easily supplied him, by which, having more rapidly eluded his pursuers, he might still farther and farther conceal himself from their search ; as he had taken with him his own white horse, on which he fled. Moreover, his servant was found in the same house, who, being accused as accessary to the felony and escape of his master, was, by order of the magistrates, committed to the common gaol, and on the following day, having suffered many torments, and being tortured till he was almost dead, confessed, after all, nothing of this kind. Nevertheless, many persons were sent to the country of that Lucius in search of him, in order that he might undergo the punishment of his crime.”

As he was narrating these things, I deeply lamented, making a comparison between my ancient fortune and my present calamity, and that once happy Lucius and an unhappy ass. It also occurred to me, that men of ancient wisdom did not without reason feign and pronounce Fortune to be blind, and entirely deprived of eyes ; since she always bestows her riches on the unworthy and worthless, nor ever judicially makes any mortal the object of her regard ; but indeed is principally conversant with men from whom, if she could see, she ought to fly far away. And, what is the most extreme of all ills, she causes opinions that are different from, or rather contrary to our life, to be circulated about us : so as to enable the bad man to boast with the renown of the good man, and, on the contrary, to cause the most

innocent man to be punished after the manner of noxious characters.

Lastly, I, whom she has most cruelly attacked, by changing. me into a beast, and a quadruped of the vilest condition, and whose misfortune may deservedly seem worthy to be lamented and commiserated, even by the most iniquitous person, am accused of the crime of having robbed my most dear host ; a crime which may not only be called a robbery, but which every one may more rightly denominate a parricide. Yet I was not permitted to defend my cause, or at least by uttering one word to deny it. However, lest I, being present, should seem, through an evil conscience, to consent to so wicked a crime, I only wished, being impelled by impatience, to say, Non feci, I did not do that deed. And the former word, indeed, [ non ] I once and frequently roared out; but the other word [feci] I could by no means pronounce, but I remained uttering the former word, and repeatedly vociferated non, non; though I vibrated my pendulous lips with excessive rotundity. Why, however, do Ϊ prolixly complain of the unpropitiousness of Fortune ; since she was not ashamed to make me a fellow-servant and yokemate wTith my horse, who carried me and was my servant ?

While I was fluctuating with these thoughts, a concern of a more important nature engaged my attention, viz. the recollection that I was destined by the decree of the robbers to be a victim to the manes of the virgin ; and frequently looking down to my belly, I seemed to myself to have the unhappy virgin enclosed in it. But he, who just before had narrated that false accusation concerning me, having drawn out a thousand pieces of golden coin, which he had concealed sewn up in his garment, and which he had taken, as he said, from different travellers, and had conscientiously brought to the common treasury, began also anxiously to inquire concerning the welfare of his associates. Finding also that some, and indeed all the bravest of them, had perished by various but strenuous

L

deaths, lie persuaded them to relinquish the exercise of their profession for some time, and rather apply themselves to searching after other associates, and to supplying the deficiency of their former warlike band by the election of tyros from young men. “ For he said, those that were unwilling might be compelled by fear, and the willing be incited by reward ; and that not a few, abandoning an abject and servile life, would rather wish to unite themselves to an association which possessed an authority similar to that of regal power. That, for his part, he had some time since met with a certain man of a lofty stature, young, of vast bodily dimensions, and of great strength1; and that he had at length persuaded him to apply to better purposes his hands, which had become torpid through long idleness; and to enjoy while he might the advantages of a prosperous condition of body ; nor extend his powerful hand in asking relief, but rather exercise it in procuring gold.” All the robbers that were present, assented to what he said, and decreed to receive him into their society, who now appeared to be a tried man, and also to search after others who might supply the place of those they had lost.

Then he, going out, and shortly after returning, brought with him, as he had promised, a certain tall young man, with whom I do not know that any who were present could be compared. For, besides the great bulk of his body, he surpassed all the rest in height by the whole of his head, and the down had just begun to creep on his cheeks ; but he was only half clothed, with dissimilar pieces of cloth, badly sewed together, through the joinings of which his breast and belly, with callous thickness, endeavoured to burst forth. Thus entering, “ All hail,” said he, “ ye, wdio are under the protection of the most powerful God Mars, and who are now become

a In the orignal, manu strenuum , which the Delphin editors very erroneously interpret, as it appears to me, promptum manu; for the robber who is here spoken of was a highwayman , and not a pickpocket.

my faithful associates ; and willingly receive a man of magnanimous vigour, who voluntarily joins himself to you, and who more cheerfully receives wounds in his body than gold in his hand, and who despises death, which others dread. Nor think that I am a needy or abject man, nor judge of my virtues from these rags. For I have been the leader of a most powerful band, and have, in fact, plundered all Macedonia. I am that famous robber Haemus the Thracian, whose name whole provinces dread ; and am the offspring of Thero, who was an equally illustrious robber, nourished in human blood, educated among bands of men of this description, and the heir and imitator of paternal virtue. But I lost, in a short space of time, all the pristine multitude of my brave associates, and all that great wealth. For I attacked a factor of Caesar, as he was passing by Oratum, who had been the leader of two hundred men, but was afterwards deprived of his employment through the malignity of fortune. I will, however, relate in order the whole affair, that you may clearly know it.

“ There was a certain person illustrious and conspicuous by the many offices which he held in the palace of Caesar, and who was also well esteemed by Caesar himself. Cruel envy, through the crafty accusation of certain persons, hurled him into exile. But a certain woman named Plotina, who was his wife, and who was a female of rare fidelity and singular chastity, having given stability to the family of her husband by the birth of ten children, spurned and despised the pleasures of city luxury, became the companion of her husband in his flight, and a partaker of his misfortune. For this purpose, she cut off her hair, changed her dress, so that she might appear like a man; and being begirt with zones full of necklaces of the greatest value, and of golden coin, she intrepidly passed through the bands and drawn swords of the soldiers that guarded her husband, a partaker of all his dangers, sustaining an ever-wakeful care for his safety, and enduring continual labours with a masculine mind. And now,

having vanquished the greater part of the difficulties of the journey, and the dangers of the sea, she went with her husband to Zacynthus, which their fatal destiny had decreed to be their temporary habitation. As soon, however, as they had arrived on the shore of Actiura, at which place we were then roving about, in our return from Macedonia, they went late at night to a certain cottage which was near the shore and their ship, and there they slept, in order to avoid the tossing of the sea. In this cottage we attacked and plundered them of every thing. Yet we did not depart without great danger. For as soon as the mistress of the house heard the first noise of the gate, she ran into the bedchamber, and disturbed all that were in the house by her tumultuous clamours. She likewise called on her servants by name, and on all her neighbours ; but it so happened, through the general fear, that we escaped with impunity, each concealing himself through the terror produced on this occasion.

This most holy woman, however, (for the truth must be spoken), who possessed a singular probity, and was beloved for her virtues, immediately pouring forth her prayers to the majesty of Caesar, obtained both a speedy return for her husband, and a complete revenge of the assault. Lastly, Caesar was unwilling that the band of the robber Haemus should any longer exist, and it was immediately destroyed. So much can even the wish do of a great prince. At length, wffien, by a diligent search of the emperor’s army, all our band wTas destroyed, I scarcely saved myself, and escaped from the midst of the jaws of hell, after the following manner. Having clothed myself in the florid vestment of a woman, which abounded in flowing folds, an<^ covering my head with a small woven mitre, being likewise shod with those white and thin shoes which are worn by women, and as it were ingrafted and concealed in the other sex, I passed through the midst of the troops of hostile soldiers, riding on an ass laden with sheaves of barley. For they, believing me to be a woman, the driver of an ass, granted me a free

golden ass, of A PI1 LEI US. — BOOK VII. 149

passage ; because at that time my cheeks, being without a beard, were graceful with puerile smoothness. Yet 1 have not degenerated from that paternal glory, or from my fortitude, though 1 was somewhat fearful, in consequence of being placed in the midst of military swords. Being concealed, however, by the fallacy of a dress foreign to my sex, and attacking by myself alone villas or castles, I have procured for myself by plunder this small viaticum. And immediately ripping open his rags, he poured forth into the midst of them two thousand pieces of golden coin. And behold, said he, I willingly offer to your band this largess, or rather gift, and also myself to you, (if you do not reject my offer), as a most faithful leader ; who, in a short space of time, will make this your house to be golden, which is now stony.” The robbers, without delay and without hesitation, but with the suffrages of all of them, unanimously elect him their leader. They also brought forth a more costly garment, which he put on, throwing away his rich rags. And having thus changed his attire, and embraced each of them, and being also placed in the highest part of the bed, he was inaugurated by a supper, and large bowls.

Then, by mutual conversation, the robber knew of the flight of the virgin, of my carrying her, and of the monstrous death to which each of us was destined. When, also, he had asked where the virgin was, and being brought to her, saw her laden with chains, he departed in derision, bending his brows and snuffing up his nose, and said : “ I am not indeed so stupid, or at least so rash, as to oppose your decree ; but f should sustain within myself the guilt of an evil conscience, if I should dissemble what appears to me to be for your benefit. But, in the first place, suffer me, who am solicitous for your sake, to speak boldly, especially since, if this my decision displeases you, you may again return to what you have decreed concerning the virgin and the ass. For I think that those robbers who are truly wise ought to prefer

nothin^· to their own gain, nor even vengeance itself, which is often detrimental both to themselves and others. If, therefore, you destroy the virgin in the body of the ass, you will exercise nothing else than your own indignation, without any profit to yourselves. But I think that she should rather be brought to some city, and there be sold ; for a virgin of her age may be sold for no small price. For I myself, some time ago, knew certain bawds, one of whom might, as I think, give a great sum of money for this virgin, and place her in a brothel, suitable to her birth, so that she may not be expose^ to a similar flight. She w7ill also have afforded you some revenge, when she becomes in bondage at a brothel. I have sincerely offered this counsel to you, as conducive to your advantage ; but you are the masters of your own counsels.” Thus this advocate of the exchequer of the robbers, and the excellent saviour of the virgin and the ass, pleaded our cause.

The rest of the robbers, howrever, tormenting my bowels, or rather my miserable spirit, by protracting their decision in long deliberation, at length willingly acceded to the opinion of the new robber, and immediately freed the virgin from her bonds. And she, indeed, as soon as she beheld that young man, and heard him mention a brothel and a bawd, began to be elated, and to laugh most joyfully, so that the vituperation of all the sex with good reason occurred to me, when I saw a virgin, who pretended that she was enamoured of a young lover, and was desirous of a chaste marriage, was suddenly delighted wTith the name of a vile and filthy brothel. And then, indeed, the wdiole female sex, and the manners of women, depended on the judgment of an ass. The young man, however, resuming his discourse, said : ei Why do we not go and supplicate Mars to be propitious to us in selling the virgin, and searching for other associates ? But, as far as I see, wre have not any beast for sacrifice, nor sufficient wine for drinking largely. Send with me, there-

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. — LOOK VII. 151

fore, ten of our associates, with whom I may go to the next castle, and bring from thence for you sumptuous food. So he having departed, attended by ten of the robbers, the rest prepared a great fire, and raised an altar to the God Mars, from green turf.

Not long after, they returned, bringing with them bladders full of wine, and driving before them a great number of cattle ; from among which they sacrificed a large he-goat, old and hairy, to Mars the Secutorb and Associate. And immediately a sumptuous supper was prepared. Then that stranger said : “ You ought not only to consider me as a strenuous leader of your expeditions and rapine, but also of your pleasures.” And, accompanying his words by deeds, he diligently performed every thing that was requisite with wonderful facility; he swept the floor, made the beds smooth, dressed the meat, seasoned the collops, and waited on them elegantly ; but he especially plied each of them, and that frequently, with large bowls of wine. Nevertheless, sometimes pretending to fetch what he wanted, he frequently wrent to the virgin, and joyfully presented her with fragments which he had secretly taken away, and cups of wine, of which he had previously tasted. But she most willingly received what he brought her, and sometimes, wrhen he wished to kiss her, recompensed his wish with prompt and sweet kisses ; which thing greatly displeased me. And I said to myself : Alas ! O girl, O virgin, are you forgetful of your nuptials, and of your reciprocal love ? Do you also prefer this foreign and cruel homicide to the young man your husband, who is unknown to me, and to whom your parents have betrothed you? Nor does conscience stimulate you; but, trampling on affection, does it please you to act libidinously among spears and swords? What if the other robbers, likewise, should, by some means or other, perceive what you are doing, would you not again return

b i. e. The gladiator, or sword-player.

to the ass, and again procure my destruction? You, in reality, sport and are delighted with the danger oi another person.

While I discussed these things with myself, with the greatest indignation, falsely accusing the virgin, 1 knew, by certain words used by them in their conversation, which were dubious, but not obscure to an intelligent ass, that the young man v7as not the famous robber Ilscmus, but Tlepolemus, the bridegroom of the virgin. For, in the course of their conference, fearing nothing from my being present, he said : “ Be of good courage, most dear Charites ; for you shall immediately have all these your enemies in captivity.” And he, refraining from drinking immoderately, did not cease to supply the robbers in a still greater degree with wine, now unmingled with water, but made tepid by a moderate heat, as they now began to be overwhelmed with inebriation. And, by Hercules, I suspected that he had mingled in their cups a certain soporiferous drug. At length, all of them, without the exception of even one, lay on the floor, buried in wine ; and all of them were every wdiere in a fit condition to be [easily] slain.

Then, without any difficulty, Tlepolemus, having strongly bound them with ropes, and tied them together in such a way as he thought proper, placed the virgin on my back, and directed his steps to his own country ; to which as soon as we arrived, the wffiole city was poured forth at the wished-for sight. Parents, kindred, retainers, bondmen, and servants, joyfully ran out to meet us. You might see a procession of every sex and of every age, and, by Hercules, a new and memorable spectacle, a virgin triumphantly riding on an ass. In the last place, I also, being as joyful as I possibly could, in order that I might not be at variance with the present circumstance, as if I was not concerned in it, strenuously brayed, with erect ears and blowing nostrils, or rather, I vociferated with a thundering clamour. With respect to the virgin, her parents received her into their bedchamber, and, in the handsomest manner.

administered to her comfort ; but Tlepolemus immediately brought me back from whence we came, accompanied by a great number of labouring beasts and of men. Nor did I return unwillingly ; for, being in other respects curious, I then also wished to be a spectator of the capitivity of the robbers, whom we found, indeed, still more forcibly detained by wine than by fetters. Having taken, therefore, and brought out of the cave every thing that was in it, and we, and all the rest, being burthened with gold and silver, Tlepolemus and his attendants rolled some of the robbers, bound as they were, into the neighbouring precipitous craggy places ; but they left others beheaded with their own swords. Triumphantly rejoicing in such a revenge, we returned to the city.

And those riches, indeed, were deposited in the public treasury; but the virgin, who had been recovered by Tlepolemus, was given to him according to law. After this had taken place, that noble woman paid the greatest attention to me, whom she called her saviour ; and, on the very day of her nuptials, ordered my manger to be completely filled with barley, and as much hay to be given to me as would be sufficient for a Bactrian camel. But what sufficiently dire execrations could I imprecate on Fotis, who had transformed me not into a dog, but an ass, when I saw all the dogs saturated and distended with the relics of the most abundant supper, and with the food which they had pillaged ? After the first night, and the rudiments of Venus, the bride did not cease to mention to her parents and to her husband, that she owed me the greatest thanks, till they promised that they would confer on me the highest honours. At length, therefore, their most intimate friends being convoked, they consulted after what manner I might most worthily be rewarded. One was of opinion that I should be shut up in the house, and there, leading an idle life, be fattened with select barley, beans, and vetches. But the opinion of another prevailed, who regarded my liberty, and persuaded them

rather to permit me to run in the plains and meadows, wantonly sporting among a gregarious multitude of horses, in order that I might procreate many mules, for the masters of the mares, by my gallant congress. The keeper of the horses, therefore, being immediately called, I was delivered to him, to be taken away, much having been previously said in my favour. And, indeed, I ran, triumphantly rejoicing, as I wTas now to have nothing more to do with baggages and other burdens, and, having obtained my liberty, might find, at the beginning of the spring, some roses in the grassy meadows. It likewise frequently occurred to me, that, since such great thanks were given to, and so many honours conferred on me, though an ass, I should receive far greater benefits when I had recovered the human form.

As soon, however, as that keeper of the horses had led me a considerable distance from the city, I obtained there no pleasure, nor, indeed, any liberty. For his wife, who was an avaricious and iniquitous woman, immediately tied me to the mill of a bakehouse, and, frequently striking me with a leafy staff, prepared bread for herself and her family at the expense of my hide. Nor was she content to weary me for the sake of her own food only, but she also ground corn for her neighbours, by my circuitous labours, and made them pay for what was ground. Nor did she even afford unhappy me the food for such great labours, which had been appointed for me; for she sold to the neighbouring husbandmen the barley which had been bruised and ground in the same mill, by my circuitous perambulations; but to me, who had worked during the whole of the day at that laborious machine, she only gave, towards evening, bran, not purified and sifted, and rough through a multitude of stones. Cruel Fortune exposed me, tamed by such miseries, to new torments ; viz. that I should boast, as it is said, both at home and abroad, of deeds bravely accomplished, and full of glory. For that excellent equerry, complying,

though late, with the mandate of his master, for a short time, permitted me to associate with the herds of horses.

But I, being at length a free ass, leaping with joy, and wantonly walking with gentle steps, chose out of the mares those which I thought would be the fittest for my concubines. Here, however, also, more joyful hope gave place to extreme danger. For the horses, being satiated with food for the sake of copulating with the mares, having been for a long time fattened ; and, independently of this, being formidable, and more powerful than any ass, fearing through me for themselves, taking care to prevent a degenerate adultery, and not regarding the laws of hospitable Jupiter, furiously pursued me, as their rival, with the greatest hatred. This struck me with his anterior hoofs, his ample breast being raised, and his head and neck sublimely elevated ; but that , turning his brawny back, hurled against me his hind feet ; and another, threatening me with malignant neighing, letting his ears fall, and showing his teeth, which were white, and sharp as spears, bit me every where. Similar to this is that which I have read in the history of the king of Thrace c, who exposed his unhappy guests to be lacerated and devoured by his wild horses. For so sparing was that very powerful tyrant of his barley, that he appeased the hunger of his voracious horses by the consumption of human bodies. After the same manner also, I, being dilacerated by the various incursions of the horses, wished again for those circuitous perambulations of the mill.

Fortune, however, who would not be satisfied with my torments, soon after procured for me another calamity. For I was destined to bring home wood from a mountain, and a boy, who was perfectly depraved, was appointed to drive and govern me. Nor did the arduous acclivity of the lofty mountain alone fatigue me, nor did I alone wear away my hoofs by running on sharp stones, but I was

also frequently and severely beaten with his staff, so that the pain produced by his blows remained fixed in my most inward parts: and by continually striking me on the right thigh, and always in the same place, he occasioned, the skin being burst, a great ulcerous cavity, or rather a trench, or even a window ; yet he did not cease to strike the wound, which was defiled with gore. He likewise oppressed me with so great a weight of wood, that you might have thought it was a burden prepared for an elephant, and not for an ass. But he, as often as the load, preponderating, inclined to the other side, instead*of taking away some of the bundles of wood from the heavier and preponderating side, and thus easing me by somewhat lightening the pressure, or at least equalizing the weight, on the contrary, by the addition of stones, remedied the inequality of the weight. Nor yet, after so many miseries which I had endured, was he contented with the immoderate weight of my burden ; but when we passed over a river, which happened to flow by the way, he being intent on keeping his feet dry, would leap on my back, which occasioned a little overweight to so great a mass. And if by any accident I happened to fall, through the pressure of the burden, and the slipperiness of the summit of the bank from the clayey mud; this most excellent ass-driver, instead of extending his hand as he ought to have done, and pulling me up by the headstall, or lifting me by my tail, and removing a part of the weight, till at least I had got up again ; instead of this, he gave me, though 1 was weary, no assistance ; but striking me with a very thick stick, he left me entirely depilous, beginning from my head, or rather my ears, till the blows had excited me, in the place of a remedy.

The same boy also adopted the following pernicious conduct towards me. He tied to my tail the sharpest thorns, which possessed a venomous pungency, and were compacted into a bundle by a flexible knot, in order that they might be to me a pendulous torment ; so that, being agitated and impelled by my walking, they might cruelly

wound me by their deadly pricking. Hence, I laboured under a twofold evil. For when I withdrew myself from him, and by running avoided his most cruel attacks, I was hurt by the more vehement incursion of the thorns : and if I stood still for a short time, in order to spare the pain, I was compelled by blows to go on. Nor did that most iniquitous boy seem to think of any thing else, than that he might, by some means or other, destroy me. And that he sometimes threatened to accomplish, accompanying his threatening with an oath. And indeed it was evident that his detestable malice was stimulated to more baneful efforts ; for on a certain day, when his excessive insolence had vanquished my patience, I lifted up my powerful heels against him. But then, with a view to my destruction, he devised the following wicked stratagem. He brought me into the road heavily laden with a bundle of coarse flax, hastily bound together with cords, and placed in the middle of the burden a burning coal, which he had stolen from the neighbouring village. And now the fire, being nourished and becoming very hot through the slender excitation of the flax, burst into flames, and the deadly burning heat invaded me on all sides ; nor did it appear that there was any refuge from this extreme destruction, or that any hopes of safety remained. A burning also of this kind did not admit of delay, nor afford time for better counsels. A more joyous nod of Fortune, however, shone upon me in my cruel circumstances ; but whether for the purpose of reserving me for future dangers, or of liberating me from present and decreed death, I know not.

For by chance perceiving a neighbouring receptacle of muddy water produced by the rain of the preceding day, I threw myself wholly into it, with a precipitous impetus ; and the flame being immediately extinguished, I departed from thence, lightened of my burden, and liberated from destruction. But that most iniquitous and audacious boy ascribed also to me this his most wicked deed ; and affirmed to all the shepherds, that I, as I was

passing near the hearths of the neighbouring houses, fell down with a staggering step, and voluntarily drew the fire along with me. He likewise added, laughing at me, How long shall we feed in vain this fire-begotten ass ?

A few days after this, however, he attacked me with fraudulent machinations of a much worse description. For having sold at the next cottage the wood which I carried, leading me along unladen, proclaiming that he was unequal to the task of resisting my iniquity, and refusing any longer the most miserable office of driving me [to the mountain for wood], he fabricated against me such complaints as the following : “ Do you see that sluggish, most slow, and immoderately asinine beast? Besides other mischief which he has already done, he now also torments me by exposing me to new dangers. For whatever traveller he happens to see, whether it be an old woman, or a female that is now marriageable, or a tender youth, he immediately attacks them, his burden through the incursion being deranged, and sometimes thrown from his back. This lover also longs after men, and greatly desiring them when prostrate on the ground, attempts illicit and unknown lusts, and beastly pleasures, and invites a backward Venus to his nuptials. Pretending likewise to kiss, he strikes and bites : which conduct occasions us no small strife and quarrels, and may also be imputed to us as a crime. Now too, having espied a certain modest maiden, the wood which he carried being thrown down and scattered, he directed his furious impetus against her ; and this festive lover, in the sight of all men, longed to get on the woman who was prostrate, in that very place, on the sordid ground. And had it not been for the assistance afforded by passengers, in consequence of her lamentations and feminine demeanour, who snatched and liberated her from the midst of his hoofs, the miserable woman, trembling and torn, would have sustained a most painful death, and would have left for us penal destruction.” By

mingling other words with such-like lies, which were calculated to overpower more vehemently my modest silence, he atrociously excited the minds of the shepherds to my utter ruin.

At length one of them said : “ Why, therefore, do we not sacrifice this public husband, or rather this common adulterer, by making him a victim, in a way worthy of these his monstrous nuptials? And do you, O boy/’ said he “ immediately cut off his head, and throw his entrails to our dogs ; but reserve all the rest of his flesh for the supper of the labourers ; for, having indurated his skin by sprinkling ashes on it, we may return it to our masters, and easily feign that he was slain by a wolf.” Without delay, the boy, who was my noxious accuser, and who was also the joyful executor of the decree of the shepherds, triumphing over my evils, and admonished by the kick which I gave him, and which, by Hercules, it grieves me to think, was inefficacious, immediately sharpened his knife on a whetstone, in order to slay me. A certain person, however, from among the crowd of those rustics, said, “ It would be wicked to kill so fine an ass, and because he had been accused of luxury and amatory lasciviousness, to be deprived of labour and service so necessary ; when otherwise, by cutting off his testicles, he would not, by any means, be able to indulge in venery, would liberate us from all fear of danger, and would, besides this, become far more fat and corpulent. For I have known many, not only sluggish asses, but likewise the most ferocious horses, who, being oppressed by the excessive heat of lust, and who, on that account, were fierce and raging, have afterwards, by such an amputation of the testicles, been rendered mild, and not unadapted to carry burdens, and have been capable of performing other ministrant offices. Lastly, unless I give you my opinion in vain, after a short interval of time has elapsed, sufficient for me to go, as I had determined, to the next market, I can bring from my house iron

instruments adapted to this operation, and immediately return to you, and emasculate this ferocious and unamiable lover, and, by cutting off his testicles, render him milder than any lamb.”

By such a decision, being snatched from the midst of the hands of Pluto, but reserved for extreme punishment, I lamented and wept as one who was about to perish wholly in the extreme part of my body. Lastly, I sought to destroy myself by continual fasting, or by throwing myself down a precipice ; by doing which I should die indeed, but should die entire [and not mutilated].

And while I delay in choosing the kind of death I was to die, that boy, my destroyer, brought me again, in the morning, to the accustomed road to the mountain ; and, having tied me to the pendulous branch of a vast oak, he went a little way out of the road, in order to cut down, with an axe, wood which he might take away. When, behold, a deadly bear crept out of a neighbouring cave, raising his surpassingly great head ; which as soon as I beheld, trembling and terrified at its sudden appearance, I drew back the whole bulk of my body on my hips, and, with my head elevated, I burst the thong by which I was held, and immediately betake myself to rapid flight. Precipitately, likewise, scampering down declivities, not only with my feet, but with my whole projected body, I ran into the plains extended under the mountain, flying, with all my might, from that savage bear, and from the boy, still more cruel than the bear. Then a certain traveller, beholding me alone and wandering, seized me, and hastily getting on my back, and striking me with a staff which he carried in his hand, led me through a winding and unknown path. Nor did I unwillingly betake myself to flight, escaping from the most atrocious dismembering of my virility. Indeed, I was not very much affected by the blows, because I was accustomed, by my destiny, to be beaten with sticks. But Fortune, spitefully obstinate in tormenting me, outstripping, with a miserable celerity, my

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK VII. 161

opportune retreat, prepared for me new snares. For the shepherds to whom I belonged, searching for a cow which they had lost, and wandering, for this purpose, through different places, happened to meet with us, and immediately seizing my bridle, which they knew, endeavoured to lead me away. The traveller, however, that rode on me, resisting with strenuous boldness, invoked as a witness the faith of men and Gods. “ And why/’ said he, “ do you violently drag me along', why do you invade me?” To which they replied: “ Do we unjustly apprehend you, who surreptitiously lead away our ass ? Why do you not rather tell us where you have concealed the boy, who was the driver of the ass, and whom you have doubtless slain?” And, immediately throwing him on the ground, striking him with their fists, and bruising him with their heels, he began to swear that he had seen no driver of the ass, but merely made use of the ass as it was running, set at liberty and alone, for the purpose of obtaining a reward for finding it, but with the intention of restoring it to its master. " And O that the ass,” said he, “ which I wish I had never seen, could utter a human voice, and give testimony to my innocence. Certainly you will repent of the whole of this injury which you have done me.” From this asseveration, however, he derived no advantage ; for those turbulent shepherds brought him back, bound by the neck, towards the forests of that mountain whence the boy was accustomed to fetch his wood. Nor was he to be found in any part of the country; but his body only was seen, dilacerated in fragments, and dispersed in many places; which I very well knew was done by the teeth of that [large] bear. And, by Hercules, I should have said what I knew, if the faculty of speaking had been afforded me. But I did that which I could alone do, viz. I rejoiced silently in the vengeance, though late, which had been inflicted. Having also at length found the whole of the dead boy, the members of which were dispersed, and having, with great difficulty, adapted them to each other, they buried the body in the same

M

place. But, accusing my Bellerophon, as one who had undoubtedly led me away, and as a cruel homicide, they brought him, in the meantime, bound, into their cottages, in order, as they said, that he might, on the following day, be taken before a magistrate, and be delivered to punishment.

In the meantime, while the parents of the boy search for him, with great lamentation and weeping, behold a rustic approached, abiding by his promise, and requiring the accomplishment of my destined castration. And one of the rustics said: “ Our present loss is not from the lasciviousness of this ass ; but, indeed, it is our pleasure, not only to deprive this most iniquitous ass tomorrow of his virility, but also of his head. Nor will the assistance of those who were lately engaged in searching for the members of the boy, be wanting to you in this business/’ And thus it came to pass that my destruction was deferred to another day. But I gave thanks to that worthy boy, that at least, by his death, he had occasioned the delay of one day to my discerption. Nevertheless, not even the smallest portion of time was granted to my gratulation, or to my quiet. For the mother of the boy, deploring the bitter d death of her son, burst into my stable, lamenting and weeping, attired in a mourning vesture, and tearing, with both her hands, her hairs sprinkled with ashes. Loudly bewailing also, vociferating from the gate of her house, and vehemently beating her breasts, she began to speak as follows : “ And now that careless ass, intent on the manger, is subservient to his voracity, and, by perpetually eating, distends his insatiable and profound belly ; nor does he pity my sorrow, or call to his remembrance the detestable end of his dead master ; but, indeed, he despises and

d In the original, mortem acerbarn , which the Delphin editors interpret necem immaturmn. But it does not appear to me that there was any necessity for changing the expression 4 a bitter death,’ into the expression 1 an immature death.’ I have therefore translated the original literally, as I have likewise done in all other instances where this is possible and appropriate.

scorns my old age and my infirmities, and believes that he shall not be punished for so great a wickedness. Perhaps, however, he presumes that he is innocent ; for to hope for security, contrary to the dictates of even a noxious conscience, is in unison with the most iniquitous endeavours. For, O faith of the Gods ! though the use of speech should be granted for a time to thee, most wicked of quadrupeds, yet how is it possible you could persuade even the most foolish person, that such an atrocious deed was committed without your concurrence, since you might have fought with your feet, and prevented, by biting, the slaughter of the unhappy boy? Or is it to be admitted, that you could frequently attack him with your heels, and that you could not defend him with a similar alacrity, when he was about to die? Certainly you ought to have immediately received him on your back, and snatched him from the bloody hands of a deadly robber. Lastly, you ought not to have fled alone, deserting and shaking off your back him who was your fellow-servant, your leader, your companion, and your shepherd. Are you ignorant that it is usual to punish those, also, who have refused to give salutary aid to such as were perishing, because this their refusal is contrary to good manners? But, O homicide, you shall no longer rejoice at my calamities ; for Ϊ will make you to know that natural strength is present with miserable grief.” And, having thus said, she untied her girdle, and, having bound my feet with it, apart from each other, she fastened them very firmly with it, in order that nothing might prevent the execution of my punishment. Then, taking a long pole, which served as a bar to the doors of the stable, she did not cease to beat me with it, till, becoming weary, and her strength being vanquished, the staff fell from her hands, which were overpowered by its weight. Then, complaining of the too rapid weariness of her arms, she ran to the fire, and taking from it a burning coal, she thrust it between my thighs, till, employing the only defence which remained for me, I defiled her face

and eyes with liquid dung, emitted by a compression of my fundament. Tlius, by the blindness and fetid smell which this produced, I escaped destruction ; for, otherwise, an ass had perished, like another Meleager, by the burning firebrand of the delirious Althea e.

e The latter part of this sentence, in the original, is, Caterum titione delirantis Althea Meleager asinus interisset. On which the Delphiu editor well observes, that the word interisset, which all the copies constantly retain, sufficiently proves that these words were written by some glossator, and not by Apuleius; for, if they had been written by Apuleius, we should have had interlssem, and not interisset ; as the series of the narration requires the former, but not the latter word. The well-known fable of Meleager, and his fatal firebrand, is copiously related by Ovid, in the 8th book of his* Metamorphoses.

BOOK THE EIGHTH.

At that time of the night in which the cocks crow, a certain young man came from the next city, who appeared to me to be one of the servants of that virgin Charite, who had endured equal sorrows with myself among the robbers. He, sitting near the fire, in the company of his fellow-servants, related, as follows, the wonderful and execrable particulars of her death, and the destruction of the whole of her house. “ Ye equerries, shepherds, and cow-herds, we have lost the miserable Charite, and by a most grievous casualty. Yet she did not depart to the shades alone. But, that all of you may know .the particulars, I will narrate to you from the beginning what happened, and which deserves to be committed to writing, in the form of a history, by more learned men, on whom Fortune has conferred the ability of writing with facility and elegance.

“ There was a young man in the next city, whose name was Thrasyllus, of noble birth, an illustrious knight, and, at the same time, very rich ; but he was a man addicted to the luxury of taverns, and to harlots, and potations by day. On this account he iniquitously associated with the factious bands of robbers, and his hands, also, had been occasionally dyed with human blood. Such was the man, and such was the report concerning him. But he, as soon as Charite was marriageable, was among the number of her principal suitors, and most ardently

]G6 THE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

endeavoured to obtain her in wedlock. And, though lie surpassed, in nobility, all the rest oi her lovers, and solicited her parents with splendid gilts ; yet he was rejected by them, on account of his morals, and suffered the disgrace of a repulse. When, therefore, [Cliarite] the daughter of my master, came into the hands of [z. e. was married to] the worthy Tlepolemus, Thrasyllus, though disappointed in his hopes, yet firmly cherishing his love, and min^lino; indignation with it, on account of his rejected suit, sought for an opportunity of perpetrating a bloody deed. At length, a seasonable occasion presenting itself, he attempted the wickedness which had, for a long time, been the subject of his thoughts. And, on the day in which the virgin had been liberated, by the cunning and fortitude of her spouse, from the deadly swords of the robbers, he mingled himself with the crowrd of those that congratulated her, exulting, in a remarkable manner, and rejoicing in the present safety and future offspring of the new married pair. Hence, being received into our house, among the principal guests, as the nobility of his race demanded, he falsely assumed the person of a most faithful friend, concealing his wicked design.

“ And now, becoming more and more dear, by assiduous narrations, and frequent conversation, and sometimes also by eating and drinking with them, he unconsciously precipitated himself, by degrees, into a profound gulf of love. Nor is this wonderful, since the flame of love, at first, indeed, being small, delights with a tepid heat; but, afterwards becoming very fierce, through the excitation of familiar conversation, at length wholly burns a man with immoderate heat. Hence, Thrasyllus for a long time deliberated with himself, how he might find an opportune place for clandestine conference, since he perceived that he was more and more excluded from the avenues to an adulterous intercourse, by the multitude of observers, and that the most firm bond of a new and increasing affection could not be dissolved ; and, still further, that the ignorance of Charite in the art of

deceiving her husband, would be an obstacle to her, even though she should be willing to gratify his passion. Notwithstanding Thrasylius perceived all this, yet he was impelled by a pernicious obstinacy to effect that which he could not accomplish, as if he could. That, however, which was now considered as difficult to be done, seemed easy to be effected, when love was corroborated by time. Lastly, consider, but I beseech you attentively consider, with what violence the impetus of furious lust burst forth. On a certain day, Tlepolemus went a hunting, together with Thrasylius, for the purpose of searching after wild beasts 5 if, however, there is any savageness in goats : for Charite would not suffer her husband to hunt beasts that were armed with teeth or horns. And now, near a hill abounding with leaves, and umbrageous with the thick covering of branches, the passage to the plains being enclosed with nets, through the care of the husbandmen, the dogs, destined to the sagacious investigation of savage animals, were sent out to attack the wild beasts which happened to be there housed in their retreats ; and immediately, being mindful of their crafty art, they divide among themselves, and surround all the avenues ; and, first softly murmuring, on a signal being suddenly given them, they fill every place with loud and dissonant barkings. Nor did any goat, or timid deer, nor a stag, which is milder than other beasts, rise from thence ; but a large boar, and such as was never before seen, rushed out, having brawny and fat thighs, covered with a callous skin, a hide squalid with rough hair, bristled with thorns rising from his spine, foaming at the mouth, grinding his teeth with a crashing noise, emitting fire from his eyes with a threatening aspect, and laying waste every thing like thunder, by the savage impetus of his raging mouth. And, in the first place, indeed, he slew the most eager of the dogs, who approached the nearest to him, lacerating them with his tusks, which he extended in all directions. Afterwards, having trampled on the nets, he ran through them, to wherever his first impetus directed him. And

all of us, indeed, being seized with fear, as we had been accustomed to harmless hunting, and were then also without arms, and without any means of defence, latently concealed ourselves under the teguments of leaves, or behind trees.

“ But Thrasyllus, having found a fit opportunity of acting fraudulently, thus insidiously addressed Tlepolemus : ‘ Why, being confused by stupor, or by vain fear, like these abject servants, or dejected by feminine terror, do we suffer so profitable a prey to escape our hands? Why do we not leap on our horses, and swiftly pursue this wild beast? Do you take a hunting spear, and I will take a lance/ And, without the least delay, they immediately leaped on their horses, following, with the greatest ardour, the beast. But the boar, not forgetting his genuine vigour, turned back, and burning with the fire of ferocity, and grinding his teeth, considered dubiously on whom he should first rush. Tlepolemus, however, first sent his spear into the back of the beast. But Thrasyllus, sparing, indeed, the boar, struck, with his lance, and cut off the hind legs of the horse on which Tlepolemus rode. The horse, reclining to that part from which the blood flowed, and being entirely laid on his back, unwillingly threw his master to the ground. Nor was it long before the furious boar attacked him, as he was lying on the earth, and first lacerated his garments, but afterwards Tlepolemus himself, frequently biting him, as he was rising from the ground. Nor did his good friend [Thrasyllus] repent of his nefarious undertaking, nor could he be satiated, though he perceived that satisfaction was made to his cruelty, by so great a danger. But while he, being astounded, covered his wounded legs, and miserably implored his assistance, Thrasyllus drove his lance through his right thigh ; and this he did more confidently, because he thought that the wounds which he had made with his lance would resemble the scissures of teeth. Nevertheless, he easily also transfixed the beast. The young man being thus slain, all of us servants were called from our

GOLDEN ASS, OF AFULEIUS. — BOOK Vi If. I GO

retreats, and ran sorrowing, obedient to his call. But he, though his wish was accomplished, and though he rejoiced in the death of his enemy, yet in his countenance he concealed his joy, assumed a severe aspect, and pretended to be grieved. Embracing also with avidity the body which he had made a corpse, he craftily dissembled all the offices of mourners : but tears alone were unwilling to be shed. Thus conforming himself to the similitude of us who truly lamented, he fraudulently attributed to the boar the crime of his own band.

“ Scarcely, however, had this wicked deed been transacted, when rumour divulged it, directed its first course to the house of Tie p oleums, and struck the ears of his unhappy wife. But she, indeed, as soon as she received this information, the like to which she had never heard, being deprived of reason, and stimulated by madness, hurried through the populous streets and solitary fields, and ran like one of the furious Bacchse, pitifully bewailing the fate of her husband. A sorrowful multitude of the citizens assemble on the occasion ; and those that meet, follow her, mingling their grief with hers. The whole city likewise is deserted, through the desire of seeing [the melancholy event]. And behold Charite runs to the dead body of her husband, and fainting, threw herself wholly upon it ; so that she almost in that very place returned the life which she had devoted to him. But being with difficulty raised by the hands of her attendants, she unwillingly continued in existence. The remains of Tlepolemus, however, were brought to the funeral pyre, all the people attending the mournful procession. In the meantime, Thrasyllus began to vociferate excessively, and to beat his breast; and now his joy increasing, he poured forth tears, which he could not do in the beginning of his feigned sorrow, and falsified truth itself, by the many appellations of friendship which he used. For he sorrowfully called him his friend, his equal, his companion, and, lastly, his brother, at the same time also adding his name. Sometimes, likewise, he prevented the

hands of Charite from striking her breasts, endeavoured to appease her sorrow, to restrain her lamentations, to blunt the sharpness of her grief by alluring words, and to frame a web of solace from various examples of the instability of Fortune. Nevertheless, he did not forget, amidst all his pretended offices of piety, his design of inveigling the woman, and nourished his own odious love by nefarious blandishments.

“ As soon, however, as the funeral rites were finished, the woman immediately hastened to descend to her husband, and tried all possible ways of effecting her purpose. She certainly attempted that placid and tranquil method which requires no hostile weapons, but resembles gentle sleep ; for at length, having concealed herself in profound darkness, she wasted away together with the light, through a miserable abstinence from food, and squalid negligence. But Thrasyllus through pertinacious importunity, partly by himself, and partly through the rest of her friends and necessary familiars, and also through the parents of Charite, persuaded her at length to refresh her members with the bath and with food, as they were now almost in a decayed condition from paleness and filth. She, however, who in other respects revered her parents, unwillingly indeed, but yielding to a religious necessity, performed, as she was ordered, the offices of the living, not indeed with a joyful, but with a little more serene countenance ; her mind, at the same time, being profoundly distracted with sorrow and grief. She likewise consumed whole days and nights in sorrowful desire ; and worshipping with divine honours, and vdth assiduous reverence, the image of her dead husband, which she had formed so as to resemble the God Bacchus, she tormented herself by that solace of her woe. But Thrasyllus being precipitate and rash, before tears had satiated her grief, and the fury of her disturbed mind was mitigated, and before sorrow had vanished by the long duration of its vehemence, did not hesitate to speak to her about wedlock, while she was yet lamenting her

husband, while she was yet lacerating her garments, and was yet tearing her hair; and thus impudently disclosed the silent secrets of his breast, and his ineffable fraud. Charite, however, abhorred and detested his wicked suit, and she sunk down and lost all sense, as if she had been struck by violent thunder, and by the influence of some baneful star, or by the lightning of Jupiter. But after a certain interval of time, gradually recovering her spirits, she reiterated her wild clamours, and when she saw the scene which the most iniquitous Thrasyllus had prepared, she deferred the desire of the petitioner to the examination of counsel.

“ Then during the delay which this occasioned, the shade of the miserably slain Tlepolemus, lifting up his face defiled with gore, and deformed by paleness, interrupted the chaste sleep of his wife, by thus addressing her : ‘ My dear wife, by which appellation it is not lawful for you to be called by any other person, if the memory of me still remains in your breast, or if the calamity of my bitter death dissolves the compact of our love, marry more felicitously some other person : only do not connect yourself with the sacrilegious Thrasyllus, nor speak to, nor recline at the same table, nor repose in the same bed with him. Avoid the bloody right hand of my murderer, and do not commence your nuptials from parricide. Those wounds, the blood of which these tears of yours have washed away, are not wholly the wounds inflicted by the teeth of the boar, but the lance of the wicked Thrasyllus has separated me from thee.’ He also added the rest, and disclosed the whole of the wicked scene. But she, as soon as, still sorrowing, she began to close her eyes in sleep, impressing her face on the bed, moistened her beautiful cheeks with flowing tears, even in her sleep, and being excited by this vision, as by some warlike machine, from her unquiet restf, she renewed her sorrow, and for a long time loudly lamented ; and tearing

f In the original, inquieta quicte.

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her under garment, she beat her graceful arms with her cruel hands. Nevertheless, not communicating to any one her nocturnal visions, but entirely dissembling the indication of the wicked deed, she determined with herself to punish the most iniquitous murderer, and silently withdraw herself from a miserable life.

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u Again, then, behold the detestable suitor of improvident pleasure was present, assailing ears that were closed to nuptial petitions. But she mildly rejecting the request of Thrasyllus, and dissembling her design with admirable cunning, replied as follows, to him urging and suppliantly requesting her consent : f That beautiful face of your brother [i. e. of him whom you called brother], and of my most dear husband, is yet familiarly present to my eyes ; as yet the fragrant odour of his sweet body runs through my nostrils ; as yet the beautiful Tlepolemus lives in my breast. You will do well, therefore, if you grant to a most miserable woman an interval of time necessary to legitimate grief ; till the remaining space of the year is completed by the residual months. And this is a thing indeed, which both regards my modesty, and your salutary advantage ; lest, by acting otherwise, we should happen to excite by immature nuptials the shade of my husband, rendered severe through a just indignation, to the destruction of your safety.’ Thrasyllus, however, not being recalled to prudence and moderation by this speech, nor being at least renovated by the seasonable promise, did not cease frequently to urge Charite with the base murmurs of his pestiferous tongue ; till at length she, pretending that she was vanquished, said, ‘ However, my Thrasyllus, it is necessary that you should earnestly comply with this my request, that we may in the interim be secretly and silently connected with each other ; and that no one of the domestics may perceive it, till the expiration of the remaining days of the year.’ Thrasyllus yielded to the promise of the fallacious woman, most willingly consented to the proposal of a clandestine

connexion, and besides this, ardently wished for the obscurity of night, making every thing else a secondary consideration to the desire of enjoying Charite. But Charite said to him, ‘ Be careful that you come well disguised, and without any attendants, and at the beginning of the night approach to my door, being satisfied with signifying by one whistle that you are there, waiting for my nurse, who shall watch for you at the bars of the gate, and having opened it, shall receive you, and bring you to my bedchamber, without the testimony of any light/ The apparatus of the deadly nuptials pleased Thrasyllus ; and not suspecting any thing sinister, but being disturbed by expectation, he only complained of the extent of the day, and the prolongation of the night. When, however, the sun had given place to night, Thrasyllus being disguised conformably to the mandate of Charite, and deceived by the fraudulent vigilance of the nurse, crept into the bedchamber with precipitate hope. Then the old woman [the nurse of Charite], receiving him with blandishment, by the command of her mistress, secretly bringing forth cups and a vessel filled with wine mingled with a soporiferous poison, and pretending that the delay of her mistress was owing to her attendance on her father, who was ill, she easily buried him in sleep, by the frequent cups of wine which she gave him, and which he fearlessly drank.

“ And now he being in a condition in which he was exposed to all injuries, and lying supine, Charite being called entered, and raging attacked him with a masculine mind and a dire impetus, and stood over the homicide. * Behold/ said she, ‘ the faithful companion of my husband, behold the egregious hunter, behold my dear spouse. This is that right hand which shed my blood ; this is the breast which contrived fraudulent stratagems to my destruction; these are the eyes which I have unfortunately pleased, which, nevertheless, now after a certain manner entering on future darkness, will antecede [by sleeping] the impending punishment. Sleep securely, enjoy delightful

dreams. I shall not attack you with a sword, nor with any other weapon. Far be it from me, that I should wish to equal you with my husband, by a similar kind of death. Your eyes shall die, you being alive, nor shall you seem to be any thing except in sleep. I xvill take care to make you feel that the death of your enemy is more felicitous than your life. Certainly you shall not see the light ; you shall be in want of the hand of a guide ; you shall not embrace Charite ; you shall not enjoy your [expected] nuptials ; nor shall you be recreated with the repose of death, nor delighted with the pleasure of life ; but you shall wander between the infernal regions and the sun, like some ambiguous image ; you shall for a long time explore the hand which deprived you of sight ; and what is the most miserable of all things in calamity, you shall be ignorant of whom you ought to complain. I will pour out the blood of your eyes as a sacrifice at the sepulchre of my Tlepolemus, and I will send those eyes as a funeral offering to his sacred shade. But why, by my delay, do you derive any gain from the punishment which you deserve ? And perhaps you now imagine to yourself that you are enjoying my embraces, which will be to you pestiferous. Leaving, therefore, the darkness of sleep, awake to another penal obscurity. Lift up your face deprived of eyes ; recognise my revenge ; understand your misfortune ; and compute your miseries. It is thus that your eyes are pleasing to a chaste woman, it is thus that nuptial torches have illuminated your bedchamber. You will have the Furies for your bridemaids, and blindness, and the perpetual stimulus of an accusing conscience, for your companions/

“ Charite having thus prophesied, and taken from her head a needle, by which she separated her hairs, she pierced with it wholly the eyes of Thrasyllus, and leaving him entirely sightless, while, the cause of his pain being unknown, he shakes off ebriety together with sleep ; she, seizing a drawn sword which Tlepolemus was accustomed to wear by his side, ran furiously through the middle of the

city, and longing to accomplish I know not what wicked deed, directly went to the tomb of her husband. But we and all the people, abandoning our houses, anxiously pursued her, mutually exhorting each other to wrest the sword from her insane hands. Charite, however, standing near to the coffin of Tlepolemus, and driving every one away with her glittering sword, when she beheld the abundant tears and various lamentations of all the crowd, said, * Cease this importunate weeping, and lay aside this grief which is foreign to my fortitude. I have taken vengeance on the cruel destroyer of my husband ; I have punished the deadly robber of my nuptials ; and it is now time that, with this sword, I should seek the downward path to my Tlepolemus/ And having narrated in order every thing which her husband had told her in a dream, and by what craft she had attacked the deceived Thrasyllus, having buried the sword under her right breast, she fell down ; and rolling herself in her own blood, and in the last place stammering words of an uncertain meaning, she breathed out her virile soul. Then immediately the friends of the miserable Charite, having washed her body, restored her to her husband, as a perpetual wife, by burying her with him in the same sepulchre. Thrasyllus, however, becoming acquainted with all these particulars, and not being able to repay a death adapted to the present tragical event, and also knowing that a sword was not sufficient to expiate so great a wickedness, was voluntarily brought to the same sepulchre. There too, frequently exclaiming, ‘ O ye shades, hostile to me, behold your spontaneous victim is present and, having diligently closed the doors of the sepulchre upon himself, he determined, by fasting, to emit his spirit, now condemned by his own decision/ ” The servant of Charite, profoundly sighing, and sometimes weeping, told all these particulars to the. rustics, who were very much affected by his narration. Then they, fearing the novelty occasioned by changing their master, and more deeply lamenting the

TIIE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

calamity of the house of their lord, prepared themselves for flight.

But the keeper of the horses, to whose care I had been committed, with great commendation, brought out of the cottage whatever was very valuable, and which he had kept concealed in it, and having laden me, and the other labouring beasts with it, he left his pristine habitation. We carried little infants and women ; we carried pullets, geese, kids, and whelps ; and, in the last place, whatever retarded our flight, by its infirm step, that also walked with our feet [0 e. was carried by us]. Nor did the weight of the burden, though it w7as enormous, oppress me; because I left, with a joyful flight, that detestable amputator of my virility. When we had ascended to the arduous summit of a woody mountain, and had from thence descended into the plains beneath, the evening now darkening our path, we came to a certain populous and opulent castle, the inhabitants of which dissuaded us from a nocturnal, or even a morning egression from thence. For they told us that numerous wolves, large, burdened with a great mass of flesh, and raging with excessive ferocity, were accustomed to prowl about every where, and infest, by their rapine, the whole of that region. They added, that they also now lay in wait, in those very roads, and attacked, like robbers, those that passed through them; and, moreover, that, being rabid through insane hunger, they assaulted the neighbouring villages, and that, in consequence of this, the death which is alone adapted to the most inert cattle, now impended over the heads of men. And, lastly, that the half-eaten bodies of men lay in the very road through which we must pass ; that every thing was white with bones denudated of their flesh ; that, on this account, we also ought to proceed in that road with the greatest caution, and to observe especially that, in order to avoid the every-where latent snares, we should pass through those dangerous places, in a troop not dispersed into small parties, but compacted into one

UOLDEN ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK VIII. 177

wedge, and this when it is perfectly light, when the day is advanced, and the sun is bright, and the impetus of dire beasts is repressed by the light. But those most iniquitous fugitives, our leaders, despising the salutary admonition, through the temerity of a blind festination, and the fear of an uncertain pursuit, without waiting for the approaching light of day, forced us laden on our journey, nearly about the third watch of the night \i. e. about midnight].

Then I, not being ignorant of the before-mentioned danger, was careful to defend my back from the attacks of those wild beasts, by proceeding, as much as I was able, in the middle of the troop, and concealing myself among the labouring beasts which surrounded me. And now all the rustics wondered at my surpassing in velocity the other horses. That swiftness, however, was not an indication of my alacrity, but of my fear. At length I thought with myself, that the celebrated Pegasus was more swift through fear, and on this account was deservedly said to be winged, while he leaped upward, and rebounded as far as to the heavens, in consequence of dreading the bite of the ignivomous Chimsera. For those shepherds, who led us, had armed their hands as if they were going to fight. This man bore a lance, that a hunting spear, another a dart, and another a staff. And they also carried stones, with which, from the rough road, they were largely supplied. Some likewise carried, in an . elevated position, very sharp hedge-stakes, but most of them terrified the wild beasts by burning torches, and nothing but a trumpet was wanting to make our troop an army prepared for battle. Though, however, we in vain sustained that sufficiently empty fear, yet we fell into far worse dangers ; for no wolves came against us, either, perhaps, through being terrified at the compact multitude of young men, or certainly by the excessive light of the torches, or because they went elsewhere in search of prey ; and not even at a great distance from us were any wolves to be seen. But the rustics of the village, near

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which we happened to be then passing, thinking that our troop was a band of robbers, and being sufficiently attentive to their own concerns, and fearful in the extreme, excited against us, with their usual clamours, and every kind of vociferation, furious and large dogs, which were more cruel than any wolves and bears, and which they had very diligently nourished, with a view to their own safety. These dogs, besides their own genuine ferocity, being exasperated by the tumult of their masters, rushed against us, and pouring round us on all sides, leaped every where upon us, and, without making any distinction, lacerated at once both the labouring beasts and the men ; and, after having for a long time assaulted us, they threw many of us to the ground. You might have seen a spectacle, not, by Hercules, so memorable as miserable ; viz. a great number of dogs, some of which furiously seized on them that were flying, others attacked those that were standing still, and others leaped on those that were prostrate, and bit the whole of our troop as they passed through it.

Behold, too, a greater evil followed our extreme danger. For those rustics suddenly rolled upon us stones from the tops of their houses, and from a neighbouring hill, so that we could by no means judge, whether we should principally avoid the dogs, who attacked us near at hand, or the stones, which were thrown at us from afar ; one of which, indeed, suddenly struck the head of the woman who sat on my back. But she, being moved by the pain produced by the blow, immediately weeping and vociferating, implored the assistance of the shepherd, her husband. He, however, invoking the faith of the Gods, and wiping away the blood of his wife, exclaimed, in a louder voice, “ Why do you so savagely attack and oppress us, miserable men, and laborious travellers ? Of what thefts are you afraid ? What losses are you avenging? But you do not dwell in the caves of wild beasts, or in the rocks of barbarians, that you should rejoice in shedding human blood.” Scarcely had he thus said, when immediately the thick shower of

GOLDEN ASS, OF A PULE I US. — -BOOK VIII. 179

stones ceased, and the storm of the ferocious dogs was appeased on their being recalled. At length one of those rustics said, from the summit of a cypress tree : “ We do not act in this manner as if we were robbers, through the desire of obtaining your spoils, but we repel from ourselves the slaughter which we fear from your hands. Now, therefore, you may depart secure, and in tranquil peace.” Thus he. We, however, proceeded on the rest of our journey, being wounded in various parts of our bodies, one with stones, another with the bites of dogs, and all of us were violently hurt.

After we had travelled to some distance, we arrived at a certain grove, planted with lofty trees, and delightfully pleasant, with open grass-plats. Here our leaders thought fit to rest a little, and refresh themselves with food, and also diligently attend to the cure of their bodies, which were wounded in various parts. Reclining themselves, therefore, every where on the ground, they first began to restore their weary spirits, and afterwards they hastened to apply different remedies to their wounds. This man repressed his tumours with wet sponges ; but another bound his gaping wounds with bandages. And after this manner each of them paid attention to his own welfare, in the meantime, a certain old man was seen, from the top of a hill, whom the goats that were feeding about him evidently proclaimed to be a shepherd. Him one of our company asked. Whether he had any milk to sell, either liquid, or coagulated into new cheese? But he, shaking his head for a long time, said : “ Do you now think of meat or drink, or, in short, of any refreshment ? Are you perfectly ignorant of the place into which you are come?” Having thus said, he turned away, and departed far from us, driving along his sheep. These words, howrever, and his flight, produced no small fear in our shepherds. And while they, being terrified, long to inquire into the nature of the place, and do not find any one who can give them this information, another old man, who was tall, indeed, but oppressed with age, wholly

leaning on a staff, and drawing along his wearied steps, approached us in our journey, weeping abundantly. On perceiving us, also, he embraced the knees of each of those young men, and thus addressed them, the tears copiously falling as he Spoke : “ 1 beseech you, by your Fortunes and your Genii, and so [by granting my request] may you arrive at the space of my old age, strong and joyful, assist a debile old man, and restore to me, from the realms beneath, my little one, who is snatched from me, at this advanced period of my life. For my nephew, and the sweet companion of this my journey, while accidentally endeavouring to catch a sparrow, that was singing in a little hedge, fell into a ditch which was near him, and which was concealed by the shrubs that covered it, and his life is now in extreme danger. For I know by his weeping, and by the voice of him, often calling on the bird, that he is still living ; but I am unable to assist him, on account, as you may see, of the infirm condition of my body. To you, however, it will be easy, through the possession of youth and strength, to succour a most miserable old man, and to preserve for me that boy, my last successor, and my only offspring.” All that heard him, indeed, commiserated him, thus supplicating, and tearing his hoary hairs. But one, who was more courageous than the rest, and also younger, and stronger in body, and who alone had escaped unhurt by the preceding battle, promptly arose, and inquiring in what place the boy fell, he, without delay, followed the old man, who pointed out to him, with his finger, a thicket of brambles, rough with thorns. And while we [quadrupeds] were refreshed by food, but the men by the attention they had paid to their wounds, every one taking his bundle, we resumed our journey. And, in the first place, they frequently and loudly called to the young man, by his own proper name ; but afterwards, being alarmed by his long stay, they sent one of their company to call him, who might search for and admonish him that it was time to depart, and might bring this their companion back with him. But he, having

staid for a short .time, returned, and, trembling and pale, like the wood of the box tree, related marvellous things of his associate. For he said, That he saw an enormous dragon lying upon and eating their companion, who was prostrate, and which had now devoured the greatest part of his body ; and that the miserable old man was not any where to be seen. On hearing this, and comparing it with the words of the shepherd [whom we had seen on the top of a hill], and who, doubtless, by his threats, admonished our people of that inhabitant of this region, and of no other, they fled most rapidly from that most noxious place, and drove us along, by frequently beating us with their staves.

At length, having, with great celerity, finished a long journey, we came to a certain village, and there we rested through the whole of the night. And I am desirous of narrating an atrocious deed, of a very memorable nature, which I there heard. A certain servant, to whom his master had committed the whole protection of his family, and who was the bailiff of that most ample village at which we stopped, though he had a wife, who was a fellow-servant with him, pertaining to the same master, yet burned with the desire of enjoying a certain woman, who was free, and a foreigner ; through which adulterous love, his wife, being stimulated by jealousy, burnt all her husband’s account books, and whatever was contained concealed in his storehouse. Nor was she content with having avenged the injury of her bed by this damage, but now, raging against her own bowels, she made a halter for herself, and bound with the same rope the little child which she had not long before brought forth from the same husband, and precipitated herself into a very deep well, drawing along with her the appendant infant. The master, however, of this woman and of her husband, being very much concerned for her death, seized the servant who had been the cause of his wife perpetrating so dire a deed, and firmly bound him, naked, and wholly bedaubed with honey, to a fig-tree, in the putrid stock of which a multi-

tude of ants had settled, and poured themselves forth from the earth, in different directions. These, as soon as they perceived the sweet and honeyed odour of his body, entirely adhered to it by small, indeed, but numerous and continued bites, and so denudated his members by long torment, from their eating his flesh and viscera, and thus consuming the whole man, that at. length his bones were left bare and exceedingly white, and still remain fixed to the deadly tree g.

Abandoning also this detestable mansion, we again proceed on our journey, leaving the rustics in the greatest sorrow. And having travelled during the whole day, through level ground, we at length arrived, weary, at a certain populous and noble city. In this place those shepherds determined to dwell, and there to fix their perpetual habitation, because the city appeared to them to be a safe retreat from those who might search for them, from a remote region ; and they were also invited to settle there, by the blessed abundance of provisions with which it was supplied. Lastly, having refreshed the bodies of us quadrupeds, for three days, in order that we might appear to be more saleable, we were brought to the market ; and the crier having proclaimed the price of each of us, with a loinj voice, the other horses and asses were bought by opulent merchants. But I, being the only one that remained, was passed over by most of the merchants with contempt. And now, through the weariness arising from being handled by those who computed my age from my teeth, I seized, with my teeth, and shattered the filthy hand of a certain person, who frequently rubbed my gums with his putrid fingers ; which

e Adlington appears, by his translation of this part, to have found, in his copy of the original, a line or two more than is to be met with in any edition that I have seen. For immediately after the words, “ fixed to the deadly tree,” he adds, u This was declared to us by the inhabitants of the village there, who greatly sorrowed for the death of this servant.” Unless, which I suspect to be the case, in more than one instance, it is entirely his own unauthorized addition.

BOOK VIII. 183

thing deterred the by-standers from buying me, as being most ferocious. Then the crier, when he had in vain spent his breath, and made himself hoarse in proclaiming me, began to compose ridiculous jests on my fortune. “ To what end,” said he, “ do we in vain expose to sale this vile and old ass, debile with worn-out hoofs, deformed in colour, ferocious in his stupid sluggishness, and who is nothing else than a bolter [or sieve, to separate meal from bran, through the numerous and wide apertures of his hide?] Wherefore, let us give him to some one, if there is any one who will not be grieved to lose his hay.” After this manner the crier excited the laughter of those by whom I was surrounded. But that most cruel Fortune of mine, which, though I had fled through so many regions, I could not avoid, nor appease, by the evils which I had already endured, again turned upon me her blind eyes, and brought a buyer of me, found in a wonderful manner, and most adapted to my severe calamities. Hear, therefore, what sort of a person he wras : an old catamite ; bald indeed, but having long depending hair, curled and half grey ; one of those vile dregs of the people, who compel the Syrian Goddess’1 to beg, carrying her about through streets and towns, and playing on cymbals and crotala, or rattles.

This man, desiring exceedingly to buy me, asked the crier from what country I came? But he announced me to be a Cappadocian, and sufficiently strong. Again he

h That the Syrian Goddess has a great agreement with Rhea and Cybele is evident, both from the sacred rites and turreted head of that divinity, mentioned by the author of the treatise De Dea Syria, in the works of Lucian. Hence, in the following book of this work, she is called the sister of the mother of the Gods. But it must be observed, that, according to the Orphic or Grecian theology, there are many divinities who are denominated mothers of the Gods. Thus, Night is so called, prior to, and Juno posterior to, Rhea. For each superior energizes, prior to, in conjunction with, and posterior to, each inferior deity. In short, every deity of a male characteristic is the father, and every deity of a female characteristic is the mother, of the divinities posterior to them.

asked what was my age ? But the crier jesting [as if he had been speaking of a man], said, “ That a certain mathematician [i. e. astrologer], who had made a scheme of his nativity, had declared him to be in his fifth year; but that he himself knew this better from his own profession. For though I know that I should incur the penalty of the Cornelian law, if I should sell to you a Roman citizen for a slave ; nevertheless, what should hinder you from buying a good and profitable servant, who may assist you both abroad and at home ?” That odious buyer, however, did not cease to ask one question after another ; and in the last place, anxiously inquired about my mildness. But the crier to this replied, “ You see, not an ass, but a castrated ram, quietly disposed to all employments ; not apt to bite or kick, but such a one as would induce you to think that a modest man dwelt in the hide of an ass. And this is a thing which it is not difficult to ascertain. For you may easily make trial of it, by thrusting your face between his thighs, as you will then see how very patient he will show himself to be.” In this ludicrous way the crier treated that helluo.

But he, understanding the jest, said, indignantly, “ May the all-powerful and all-parent Syrian Goddess, and may the holy Sabazius [?. e. Bacchus], Bellona, and the Idaean mother [Cybele], and also the sovereign Venus with her Adonis, cause you, O delirious crier, to be blind, and to become a deaf and dumb dead body, who, for some time past, have been employing against me scurrilous jests. Do you think, O stupid man, that I can commit a Goddess to a ferocious ass, which, being disturbed, may suddenly throw off’ his back the divine image, and compel me, miserable man, to run with dishevelled hair, and search for some one who may raise my Goddess from the ground, or repair the injury she may have sustained ?” On hearing this, it suddenly occurred to me to leap as if I was furiously insane, in order that he, perceiving me exasperated by ferocity, might desist from buying me. But the buyer, who was

anxious to possess me, prevented this my intention by immediately paying the sum of seventeen denarii, which my master rejoicing readily received, though to my abhorrence ; and directly delivered me, tied with a cord of bulrushes, to Philebus ; for this was the name of my new master. And he, taking me as a new slave, brought me to his house, and immediately exclaimed from the very threshold of it, “ Lo, and behold, girls, I have bought for you a beautiful servant, and have led him hither.” Those girls, however, were nothing more than a company of wanton dancers, who, immediately exulting for joy, raised dissonant clamours, with a broken, hoarse, and effeminate voice ; thinking that some man-servant had been in reality procured to wait on them. But when they saw it was not a stag that succeeded in the place of a virgin1, but that an ass was substituted for a man, they, with turned up nose, reviled their master in different ways ; and told him that he had not brought a servant for them, but a husband for himself. They added, “ Mind that you do not keep this little ass solely for your own enjoyment, but make us also sometimes a partaker of the object of your regard.” Thus mutually babbling, they fastened me to the next manger.

There was a certain young man, very corpulent, and very skilful in playing on the flute for contributions of money which were made by those that heard him; and who, abroad, preceded those that carried about the Goddess, playing at the same time on his flute ; but was a common catamite at home. This young man, as soon as he saw me in the house, willingly placed before me food in great abundance, and thus joyfully addressed me : “ At length, thou hast come as my substitute in the endurance of miserable labour. And may you live long, and please our masters, and prevent any further exertion of my debilitated powers.” On hearing this, I revolved

As was the case in the sacrifice of the Greeks at Aulis, in which Diana substituted a stag for Iphigenia.

my future new miseries in my mind. But on the following day they went out, clothed with garments of various colours, each of them having a deformed appearance ; their faces being bedaubed with dirty pigment, but their eyes elegantly painted, and having small mitres on their heads, and wearing saffron-coloured, linen, and silken vestments. Some of them also had white tunics, painted with purple, diffused through all the parts like small lances, and girded underneath with a zone, and their shoes were of a saffron colour. They likewise placed the Goddess, covered with a silken veil, on my back, in order that I might carry her ; and having their arms bare as far as to their shoulders, and holding up very large swords and axes, they proceeded leaping like those possessed with Bacchic fury, and exciting insane dancing by the sound of the pipe.

And when they had passed by not a few small cottages, they came to a certain village, the owner of which was an opulent man, and at their first entrance, vociferating with dissonant clamours, they fanatically rush into it. Having their heads likewise for a long time in an inclined position, bending their necks, wantonly tossing their pendulous hair with a circular motion, and sometimes biting their muscles, they, in the last place, cut their arms with a two-edged sword which they carried. In the meantime one of these was more largely seized with Bacchanalian fury, and fetching frequent and profound sighs, as if he had been filled with the divine afflatus of the Goddess, he pretended that he was seized with insanity ; just as men are accustomed through the presence of the Gods, not to become better than they were before [so far as pertains to the body], but to be rendered debile or diseased. In the last place, consider what reward he received through divine providence. He began under a false pretence to blame and accuse himself with a clamorous prediction, as if he had perpetrated something contrary to the laws of sacred religion ; and besides this, he also required that a just punishment

for his wicked deed might be immediately inflicted on him by his own hands. Seizing, therefore, a whip, which it is usual for those half men to carry with them, and which consists of twisted woollen fillets, hanging down in long fringes, and is chequered with many pastern bones of sheep ; he gave himself with it many lashes which were severe, on account of the numerous knots of the whip ; being fortified with a wonderful firmness against the pain of the blows. You might perceive that the ground was moistened with the filthiness of the effeminate blood which flowed from the cuts of the swords, and the lashes of the whips. Which circumstance produced in me no small solicitude, on my perceiving the blood copiously streaming from so many wounds, lest the stomach of a foreign Goddess k should happen to desire asinine blood, just as the stomach of some men wishes to have asinine milk.

When, however, being at length wearied, or at least satiated with the laceration of himself, he gave a respite to his torments, they received in their open bosoms brass and also silver coin, wrhich many offered them, contending with each other who should give the most. Besides this, likewise, they received from some a cask of wine, and milk, and cheese, and a quantity of wheat and barley ; but others gave barley to [me], the bearer of the Goddess. After this, they greedily collected every thing, and enclosing what they had collected in sacks prepared for this species of gain, they placed it on my back ; so that being oppressed with the weight of a twofold burden, I was at one and the same time a walking barn and temple1. Wandering after this manner, they plundered all that region. But being exhilarated by the abundance of more than usual gain, they prepared a genial feast in a certain castle. For this purpose, through the fraud of a

k i. e. a Syrian Goddess, who was therefore foreign to Greece, where these transactions are narrated.

1 Viz. He was a barn , because he carried wheat and barley ; but a temple , because he carried the image of the Goddess.

fictitious divination, they earnestly requested a very fat ram of a certain husbandman, in order that they might satisfy, by sacrificing it, the hunger of the Syrian Goddess; and the supper being properly arranged, they betake themselves to the bath. And after they had washed themselves, they brought with them to the supper a certain very robust rustic, who was well prepared for their purpose by the strength of his sides ; and having tasted of a very few small herbs, those most filthy catamites were excited before the table itself, to the extreme wickedness of illicit lust, and every where spreading themselves round the naked and supine young man, they importune him with their execrable pruriency.

My eyes, however, not being able any longer to endure such wickedness, I endeavoured to exclaim, O Quirites ! but O alone proceeded [from my lips], destitute of the other syllables and letters, clear indeed and strong, and adapted to the pronunciation of an ass, but perfectly inopportune as to time. For many young men from the next village, who had been inquiring for an ass that had been stolen from them by night, and who had explored all the stables with a vehement desire of finding it, on hearing me bray within the house, thinking the ass which they had lost was concealed in a secret part of that dwelling, burst into it unexpectedly with hasty steps, in order to seize openly their own property ; and clearly detected them in the perpetration of their execrable filthiness. Now also immediately calling the neighbours together on all sides, they disclosed that most filthy scene ; and besides this, they, in the way of ridicule, praised the most pure chastity of the priests. They, however, being very much troubled on account of the infamy, which easily spreading through the mouths of the people, would deservedly render them odious and execrable to all men, collected all their property, and secretly departed from the castle about midnight. Having also accomplished a good part of their journey, before the rising of the sun, when it was now clear day, they

came into impervious deserts, and having first conferred much with each other, they prepared themselves to put me to death. Taking the Goddess, therefore, from my back, and placing her on the ground, they stripped me of all my harness, bound me to a certain oak, and lashing me with that whip which was furnished with the pastern bones of sheep, after the manner of a chain, they almost brought me to extreme death.

There was likewise one who threatened to cut the nerves of my hams with a cruel axe, because I had triumphed over his pure modesty [through revealing by my braying his execrable lust]. But the rest thought that my life should be spared, in consequence of looking not to my safety, but to that of the image which was lying on the ground. Again, therefore, driving me along laden with bundles, by striking me with the flat part of their swords, they came to a certain noble city. There, a man of the first consequence, who was also religious, and in a remarkable degree revered the Gods, ran to meet us, being excited by the tinkling of the cymbals, the sound of the drums, and the sweet modulations of the Phrygian harmony. Receiving, likewise, the Goddess in his hospitable dwelling which was devoted to religious purposes, he placed all of us within the enclosure of his most ample house ; and endeavoured to propitiate the Goddess by the greatest veneration, and fat victims. Here, too, I remember 1 was especially in danger of losing my life. For a certain rustic sent as a gift to this religious man, who was his master, a very fat haunch of a large stag, which was a part of his hunting. This being carelessly suspended behind the kitchen door, at no very great height from the floor, a certain dog, which was also of the hunting kind, latently seized it, and rejoicing in his prey, rapidly fled from the view of those to whose care the haunch was committed. But the cook, when this loss was known, condemning his own negligence, and having for a long time lamented with inefficacious tears, and dreading the consequence, because his master would in a

short time want his supper, closely embraced his infant son, and seizing a rope, attempted to hang himself. The extreme misfortune, however, of the husband, was not concealed from his faithful wife ; but violently seizing with both her hands the deadly rope, “ Are you/’ said she, “ so terrified by the present evil, as to be out of your mind? And do you not perceive the fortuitous remedy, which the providence of the Gods administers to you ? For if you are at all capable of reflecting in this extreme tempest of Fortune, listen to me attentively. Lead that foreign ass into some remote place, there slay him, and cut off his thigh in the form of the haunch which you have lost, and set it before your master in the place of the stag, diligently cooked and highly seasoned with minced meat.” The most iniquitous knave was pleased with the idea of saving his own life by my death, and having very much praised the sagacity of his wife, he also sharpened his knives, in order to effect my destined slaughter.

BOOK THE NINTH.

After this manner that most iniquitous executioner armed his impious hands against me. But Ϊ determined, in consequence of counsel being precipitated by the presence of so great a danger, without waiting the delay of long deliberation, to avoid by flight the impending slaughter [of my body]. And, immediately bursting the cord by which I was tied, I hurried along, with all the force of my feet, skirmishing, by frequently employing my heels in defence of my safety. And, rapidly running through the first porch, I violently entered, without delay, into a dining room, in which the master of the house was at supper, with the priests of the Goddess, feasting on the flesh of the victims which he had immolated; and, by thus rushing in, I broke and overturned many of the dishes, and also the tables, and other things of the like kind. By which foul destruction, the master of the house being dismayed, he delivered me to a certain servant, and ordered him to keep me very diligently shut up, as importunate and wanton, in a place where I might not again disturb, by a like petulance, the tranquil banquet.

There, being craftily defended by my sagacious counsel, and snatched from the midst of the hands of the executioner, I rejoiced in the custody of my salutary prison. But, indeed, it is not yiossible that any thing prosperous can happen to one who is bom a man without

the concurrence of Fortune ; nor can the fatal order of things, as established by Divine Providence*, be subverted or renewed by any prudent counsel or sagacious remedy. Lastly, that crafty device itself, by which I seemed to have found a momentary safety, produced for me another great danger, or rather present death. For a certain menial lad (as I afterwards heard the domestics tell each other, in a low voice) burst into the dining room, with a countenance agitated by terror, and announced to his master, that a mad dog had, a little before, ran from the next street, with a wonderful celerity, through the back door, and had attacked the hunting dogs with a perfectly vehement fury ; and afterwards had proceeded into the next stable, and rushed on the greater part of the labouring beasts with a similar rage ; and, in the last place, that he had not spared even the men themselves. For he said, that Myrtilus, the muleteer, Hephaestion, the cook, Hypatius, the chamberlain, Apollonius, the physician, and many others of the family, while they endeavoured to avoid the dog, were all of them lacerated by it, with various bites; and that some of the labouring beasts, which had been wounded by its venomous bites, were now seized with a similar fury. This narration immediately agitated the minds of all that heard it, and, thinking that I also was infected with the same disease, they took up arms of every description and pursued me, exhorting each other to repel the common mischief ; though, at the same

a In the original, Diviny Providently fat alis disposition which the Delphin editors erroneously interpret, ordo immutabilis Providently Diviny. For Providence, according to the Platonic philosophy (and Apuleius was a Platonist), is superior to Fate; and, in consequence of this, whatever is produced by Fate is also produced by Providence, but not vice versa. Apuleius, therefore, rightly ascribes th e fatal disposition of things to Divine Providence, because this disposition or order proceeds primarily from Providence, but secondarily from Fate; but the fatal is not the same with the immutable order of things: for the latter pertains to Providence alone, but the former to Providence in conjunction with Fate.

time, they, rather than I, laboured under the same disease of raging madness. And, without doubt, they would have torn me in pieces with those lances, hunting spears, and axes, with which they were easily supplied by the servants, if I, considering the storm which was likely to burst upon me suddenly, had not immediately rushed into the bedchamber, into which my masters had retired. Then, the doors being closed and locked upon me, they surrounded the place, till I, without any danger to their entrance, should be consumed, in consequence of being possessed and devoured by the pervicacious fury of that deadly pestilence. In this situation, having at length gained my liberty, and embracing the gift of solitude, with which Fortune had presented me, I threw myself on the bed which was there laid, and enjoyed human sleep, which, for some time before, I had not been able to obtain.

And now, it being clear day, I rose in good health, liberated from lassitude through the soft bed on which Ϊ had slept. Then I heard those who had passed a sleepless night in watching about my prison, thus disputing with each other, concerning my destiny : “ Shall we believe that this miserable ass will be agitated with perpetual fury? But, indeed, it is rather probable that the poison has become extinct, the rage being quiescent. ” Thus, difference of opinion led them at length to explore my condition ; and, looking through a certain fissure, they saw me standing at my ease, in a sane and sober state. And now, having of their own accord opened the doors, they made trial whether I was become mild, in a more ample manner. But one of them, who was sent from heaven to be my saviour, pointed out to the rest the following method of exploring my sanity ; viz. that they should offer me a vessel full of water, recently drawn, and that, if I drank of it intrepidly, and after my accustomed manner, they might depend upon it that I was sane, and liberated from all disease ; but that, on the contrary, if I avoided the sight and contact of the water, and was

THE META MOKPHuS ! S, OR

terrified at the view of it, it would be evident that the noxious fury still pertinaciously remained. For this, which is asserted in ancient books, is also verified by experience.

This counsel being approved, they, still doubting the event, immediately offered me a large vessel, full of transparent water, drawn from a neighbouring fountain. But I, immediately proceeding to meet them, as I was very thirsty, drank, indeed, those truly salutary waters, inclining myself, and merging into the vessel the whole of my head. And now I placidly suffered them to pat me with their hands, to stroke my ears, and lead me by the halter, and to do whatever else they pleased, in the w*ay of making trial of my sanity ; till, contrary to their insane presumption, I clearly proved my mildness to all of them. After this manner, having escaped a twofold danger, on the following day I was again led forth to the journey, a circumforaneous mendicant, burdened w7ith divine spoils, accompanied by crotala and cymbals. And when w7e had passed by not a few little cottages and castles, w7e came to a certain village, built among the half-ruined vestiges of a city which was once opulent, as the inhabitants relate. Here, taking up our abode at the first inn that we found, we heard a pleasant narration, about a poor man being cuckolded by his wife, which I also w'ish the reader to know.

This man, labouring under great poverty, procured the means of subsistence by the small wages which he received from working as a carpenter. Nevertheless, he had a wife who was also herself poor, but famous [or rather infamous] for extreme lasciviousness. But, on a certain day, while he went in the morning to the work which he had undertaken to perform, an audacious adulterer immediately entered latently into his house. And, while they fearlessly employ themselves in the colluctations of Venus, the husband unexpectedly returned home, ignorant of what was transacting, and, at that time, suspecting no such thing. And now, praising

GOLBEX ASS, OF A PULEI US.— BOOK IX. 195

the continence of his wife, because he perceived that the doors were shut and bolted, he knocked at the gate, announcing also, by whistling, that he was present. Then the crafty woman, and who was most sagacious in the perpetration of crimes of this kind, having freed the man from her most strict embraces, dissemblingly concealed him under a tub, which was half-buried in the earth, in a corner of the house, but was, nevertheless, empty ; and, having opened the street door, she received her husband, as he was entering, with severe language : “ And do you thus/’ said she, “ come home to me, empty and idle, with your hands in your bosom, nor apply yourself to your accustomed work, in order that you may provide for our subsistence, and procure something for us to eat? But I, unhappy woman, exercise my fingers, by night and by day, in spinning wool, that, at least, a lamp may shine within our little abode. How much more happy than I am is our neighbour Daphne, who, filling herself early in the morning with wine and meat, wallows with her adulterers 1 ”

The husband, being thus reproved, said, “ What do you mean? For, though the master of our workshop, being attentive to his forensic employment, has given us a holiday, nevertheless, I have provided for our supper to-night. Do you see that tub which, being superfluous, in vain occupies so much space, and, in reality, affords nothing farther than an impediment to our habitation? This I have sold for five pence to a certain person, who is here present, that, having paid the price of it, he may take it, as his own property, with him. Make yourself ready, therefore, and lend me a hand, for a little while, that, having scraped it clean, it may be immediately delivered to the buyer.” The fallacious woman, immediately bursting into an audacious laugh, said, “ The husband which I have married is certainly a great man, and a strenuous negociator, who, while I, who am only a woman, and confined at home, have already sold a thing for seven pence, has sold it for a less sum.” The husband, being

joyful at the addition to the price of the tub, said, “ Who is he, who has bought it at so great a price V’ To which she replied, “ He has long ago, O stupid man, descended into the tub, in order that he might diligently explore its solidity.” Nor was the adulterer deficient in confirming what the woman said, but, promptly rising from the tub, v said, u Do you wish, mistress, to know the truth ? This tub of yours is too old, and injured in many places by gaping fissures.” And turning himself dissemblingly to her husband, “ But do you,” said he, (< my friend, whoever you are, bring me immediately a lamp, that, having scraped oil' the filth which is in the inside of the tub, I may be able to know accurately whether it is fit for use, unless you think that we obtain money in an improper manner.” The sagacious and egregious husband, without any delay, and not suspecting any thing, having lit a lamp, said, “ Depart, brother, and keep yourself quiet, till I shall have brought this tub into a fit condition for you to receive.” And, having thus said, he stripped himself, and taking the lamp with him, began to scrape off the indurated faeces which adhered to the rotten tub. She, however, putting her head into the tub, deluded her husband with meretricious craft. She pointed out, with her finger, this place and that, and another, and again another, which required to be purified, till, both works being accomplished, the miserable carpenter was compelled, having received seven pence, to carry the tub on his back to the house of the adulterer.

Those most pious priests, having remained there for a few days, and been fattened by the public munificence, and laden with many rewards of their divination, devised for themselves a new kind of gain. Having fabricated one oracle, adapted to many cases, they deluded many, who consulted them about various particulars. But the oracle was as follows :

Together yok’d the oxen, till the ground,

That stocks abundant may from thence arise.

J

Then il any, who wished to engage in matrimony, from

the admonition of the oracle, consulted them, they said, it answered the very thing which they wished to know; viz. that they should be conjoined in wedlock, in order that they might produce stocks of children. If any one who was about to buy land, interrogated them, they said. That the oracle very properly spoke of oxen, as also of the yoke, and of fields flourishing with crops of corn. If some one, being solicitous about travelling, consulted the divine oracle, they said. That the mildest of all quadrupeds were to be now yoked together, and prepared for the journey, and that gain was promised them, through the germe of the glebe. And if some one, who intended to engage in battle, or to pursue a band of robbers, asked them whether the event of his undertaking would be prosperous or not, they asserted. That victory was promised by the prediction of the oracle ; which signified, that the necks of the enemies should be brought under the yoke, and a most abundant and fruitful spoil be obtained by rapine. And, after this manner, by the fraudulent craft of divination, they collected no inconsiderable sum of money.

Being, however, at length exhausted by perpetual interrogations, and by always giving the same answer, they again began to travel through a road much worse than that which we had passed through during the night. For it was interrupted by profound ditches and whirlpools, which were partly filled with stagnant water, and in other places was slippery with miry filth. Lastly, I was scarcely able to arrive, at length, much fatigued, at level paths, my legs being bruised by continual falls. And, behold, on a sudden, a troop of armed horsemen came upon us, from behind, and, having with difficulty restrained the impetus of the running horses, they eagerly flew upon Philebus, and the rest of his associates, and tying them by the neck, and calling them sacrilegious and impure, they sometimes struck them with their fists, bound them fast with manacles, and urged them to produce quickly the golden bowl, and thus bring forth that

pledge of their crime, which they had privately stolen from the bed of the mother of the Gods, under the pretext of solemn rites, which they should secretly perform, and afterwards silently departed, at the dawn of day, beyond the boundaries of the city, as if they could escape the punishment of so great a crime. Nor was there wanting one who, putting his hand on my back, and searching in the very bosom of the Goddess, whom I carried, found the golden bowl, and drew it out, in the sight of all that were present. But those most impure men could not either be convinced or terrified by the disclosure of a deed which was at least so nefarious, but jesting, accompanied with a fictitious laugh, they said, “ Behold the unluckiness of an unworthy circumstance ! How many innocent men are in danger ! on account of one bowl only, which the mother of the Gods presented, as a hospitable gift, to her sister, the Syrian Goddess They having stupidly uttered these and other trifles, of the same kind, the rustics led them back, and immediately bound and cast them into prison ; and the bowl, and the image of the Goddess, which I carried, being restored and consecrated in that part of the temple where gifts were deposited, on the following day they brought me forth, and again, by the voice of the crier, exposed me to be sold. But a certain baker, from the next little town, bought me for seven pieces of money more than Philebus had before given for me ; and he, having immediately laden me with corn, which he had bought, led me through a road, difficult, from the little sharp stones with which it abounded, anti encumbered with roots of every kind, to the mill where he ground his corn.

There many labouring beasts turned mills in their different circuits, by proceeding through various gyrations. Nor was it by day alone, but also, being vigilant through the whole of the night, they made flour by the light of a lamp, and the continual rotation of the mills. But my new master afforded me the best accommodation, lest I should be terrified at the rudiments of my servitude.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK IX. 199

For he gave me a holiday the first day, and abundantly furnished my manger with food. That beatitude, however, of leisure and exuberant food, did not endure any longer than a day. But, on the following morning, I was bound to that mill which appeared to be the largest, and, immediately, my eyes being covered, [to prevent my beinggiddy from the gyrations,] I was impelled into the curved spaces of a circular path, excavated like a canal, so that I might wander, with a sure winding, in the orb of a circumfluent boundary, with a reciprocal pace, treading my footsteps over again. Nevertheless, not entirely forgetting my sagacity and prudence, I did not show myself an apt tyro of his discipline. But, though I had frequently seen machines similarly circumvolved, when I lived among men, nevertheless, I stood still, feigning that I was seized wflth a stupor, as one ignorant of, and unskilled in, that kind of work. For I thought, indeed, that I should be employed in some other easier work, as being but little adapted, and sufficiently useless for labour of that kind, or, at least, that I should be fed in idleness. I exercised, however, in vain, a pernicious sagacity. For many, furnished with staves, immediately surrounded me. And, as I was even then without fear, in consequence of my eyes being covered, on a sudden, a signal was given, and, with repeated clamours, they heaped blows upon me, and so disturbed me with the noise, that, laying aside all my crafty designs, I immediately ran briskly, and strenuously thrust forward with my breast, and with great sagacity, the rope by which, through my circuitous course, the mill was turned.

By this sudden change of counsel I excited the laughter of all the company. And now, the greatest part of the day being passed over, they liberated me, that wras otherwise much fatigued, from the machine, taking off the rope by which I was tied to the mill, and led me to the manger. But I, though excessively fatigued, and very much in want of renovation of strength, and almost perishing with hunger, nevertheless, being

impelled by my usual curiosity, and sufficiently anxious, I observed, with a certain delight, the discipline of that disagreeable workshop, neglecting the food which was placed before me in great abundance. Good Gods ! what abject fellows were the men that were there ! The whole of their skin was marked with livid spots, and their scarred backs were rather shaded than covered with torn garments, composed of shreds. Some had only their private parts concealed by a small covering ; and all of them were so clothed, that their skin might be seen through the intervals of the patches. Their foreheads were marked with letters, their hair was half-shaved off, and their feet were bound with fetters. They were also deformed, through paleness, and their eyelids were corroded with the smoky darkness of black vapour ; and on this account they had bad eyes. They were likewise filthily white through the flour of the meal, like those pugilists, who fight sprinkled with fine dust. But what, and after what maimer, shall I speak of the labouring beasts, my associates? What of those old mules and infirm horses? With their heads inclined downward about the manger, thev diminished the heaps of chaff. Their necks were putrid with wounds ; their nostrils, which laboured in breathing, were languid, and wide through the continual pulsation of coughing; their breasts were ulcerated through the constant friction of the ropes by which they were tied ; their sides were bared even to their bones, by perpetual castigation ; their hoofs were extended to an enormous size by manifold circumduction; and the whole of their hide was rough with inveterate and scabby leanness. Fearing that the same baneful misery with which this family was affected, would happen to me, recollecting also the fortune of the pristine Lucius, and perceiving myself thrust down to the last goal of safety, I lamented my condition with a dependent head. Nor was any solace of a painful life any where present, except that I was recreated, through my innate curiosity, while, making no account of my presence, all of them freely said and did before me whatever they pleased.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US.

Nor was it without reason that the divine author of ancient poetry among the Greeks [i. e. Homer], desiring to exhibit a man of consummate prudence, sings [of Ulysses, in the Odyssey], “ that he acquired the greatest virtues through wandering over many cities, and through the knowledge of different nations.” For I confess that I owe great thanks to my asinine form, because, concealing me by its covering, and exercising me through various fortunes, it certainly rendered me, if not more wise, yet knowing in many things. Lastly, I have determined to narrate to you an excellent tale, which I have found to be delightful in the extreme, and behold I begin as follows :

The baker who had made me his own for a sum of money, and who was otherwise a good man and very moderate, sustained the greatest punishment in the marriage bed and his family, in consequence of being allotted a wife, who was the worst and most wicked of women ; so that, by Hercules, I also frequently lamented his condition in silence. For there was no vice that was not present with that most iniquitous woman. But there was entirely a conflux of all crimes in her mind, as in some miry privy. She was inauspicious, cruel, addicted to men and to wine, pervicacious and pertinacious0, greedy in base rapine, profuse in filthy expenditure, inimical to fidelity, and hostile to chastity. Then despising and trampling on the divine powers, instead of the true religion, counterfeiting'1 a nefarious opinion of God, whom

c In the original, scueva, steva, viriosa , ebriosa , pervicax, pertincix , in which words there is a remarkable paronomasia.

d Thus Synesius in his treatise on Providence, which is an Egyptian narration, says (See page 550 of my translation of Extracts from it), Ci But after no great length of time, a certain depraved fragment of religion, and an adulteration of divine worship, like that of money as it were, prevailed, which the ancient law exterminated from cities, shutting the doors against impiety, and expelling it to a great distance from the walls.’7 The learned reader will find the original of this passage in

she asserted to be the only deity [to the exclusion of other Gods who proceed from, and are rooted in the first God,] devising also vain observances, and deceiving all men, and likewise her miserable husband, she enslaved her body to morning draughts of pure wine, and to continual adultery. This woman, being thus ill disposed, persecuted me with a wonderful hatred. For while she was yet lying in bed before the break of day, she commanded with a loud voice, that the ass which had been recently purchased, should be tied to the mill; and as soon as she had left her bedchamber, she ordered that many blows , should be given to me in her presence, she herself standing by those who beat me. When also the other labouring beasts were liberated from their toil at dinner-time, I was led to the manger, through her mandate, much later than the rest : by which cruelty, she greatly increased my native curiosity in observing her manners. For I perceived a certain young man very frequently going into her bedchamber, whose face also I very much desired to behold, if the covering of my head would have afforded that liberty to my eyes : for I was not in want of sagacity sufficient to detect, in some way or other, the crimes of a most iniquitous \voman.

A certain old woman, however, who was a medium and a messenger between her and her adulterer, was daily present with her as an inseparable companion ; with whom first breakfasting, and afterwards contending with her in drinking alternately pure wine, she devised insidious machinations, by fraudulently circuitous means, to the destruction of her miserable husband. But I, though I was very much enraged at the error of Fotis, who had made me an ass, while she wished to change me into a bird, nevertheless, I was gratified in having this one solace of my lamentable deformity, that, being furnished with very long ears, I easily heard every thing, even though at a great distance. At length, on a certain day, the following words of that timid old woman came to my ears : u My mistress, consider with yourself what you

mean to do with that sluggish and false-hearted friend, with whom you became familiar without my advice, and who in a cowardly manner dreads the severe countenance of your unpleasant and odious husband, and through this slothfulness of his languid love, torments you by deferring your willing embraces. How much superior to him is Philesietmrus, a young man beautiful, liberal, and strenuous, and most steadfast in eluding the inefficacious vigilance of husbands ! By Hercules, he alone is worthy to enjoy the embraces of all mistresses of families ; he alone deserves to wear a golden crown on his head, on account of this one thing which he lately devised with wonderful cunning against a certain married man who was jealous. Hear, therefore, and compare together the different disposition of both these lovers.

“ You know a certain person of the name of Barbarus, a senator of our city, whom the vulgar call Scorpion, on account of the asperity of his manners. This man very cautiously kept close in his house a noble wife of surpassing beauty, defending her with a wonderful guard.” To this, that abandoned wife of the baker replying, said, “ Why should I not? I know her very well. You speak of Arete my school-fellow.” “ You know, therefore,” said the old woman, “ the whole history of Philesietserus.” “ By no means,” replied the baker’s wife ; “ but I very much desire to know it, and beseech you, mother, to narrate every particular to me in order.” And without delay, that old woman, who was an excessive talker, thus began : “ That Barbarus, when he was about to undertake a necessary journey, and was desirous most carefully of preserving the chastity of his beloved wife, secretly admonished his servant Myrmex, whom he knew to be in the highest degree faithful to him, and committed to his fidelity the entire custody of his mistress ; at the same time threatening him with imprisonment, perpetual bonds, and lastly, a violent death and famine, if any man even in passing by, did but touch her with his finger. And this he confirmed through swearing by all the divine powers.

Leaving, therefore, Myrmex, who was struck with the greatest terror, as a most vigilant and inseparable attendant on his wife, he commenced his journey without any solicitude. Then Myrmex, with a mind firmly resolved, and vehemently anxious, would not suffer his mistress to go any where, and keeping her at home occupied in spinning wool, was constantly with her; only suffering her, as a thing that was necessary, to go to the bath in the evening, and then adhering and as it were agglutinated to her, and holding with his hand the fringe of her garment, he faithfully performed the office committed to him, with wonderful sagacity. But the beauty of this noble matron could not be concealed from the ardent vigilance of Philesietaerus. And being captivated and inflamed by this celebrated chastity, and extreme vigilance of her remarkable tutelage, he prepared himself with all his might to vanquish the tenacious discipline of that house. Being also certain of the fragility of human fidelity, and that all difficulties are pervious to money, and that it is usual for even adamantine doors to be broke open by gold ; having opportunely found Myrmex alone, he unfolded to him his love, and suppliantly implored him to administer a remedy to his torment ; for he said, “ That he had determined and decreed to die in a short time, if he did not very soon obtain the object of his wish.” He also farther observed to Myrmex, “ That he ought not to fear any thing in an affair which might easily be accomplished ; since he could penetrate into the house in the evening unattended by any one, covered and concealed by the fidelity of darkness, and in a moment of time after, leave it.” To these and similar persuasions, he added a powerful wedge, for the purpose of cleaving the perfectly rigid tenacity of a servant. For, opening his hand, he showed him glittering pieces of solid gold, which was to Myrmex a spectacle entirely new; twenty of which, he said, he had destined to the woman; but that he willingly offered to him ten. Myrmex was horribly terrified at the mention of a wickedness which he had

GOLDEN ASS, OF A PU LEI US.

never heard of before, and immediately fled with closed ears. Nevertheless, the flaming splendour of the gold could not depart from his eyes; but though he was far removed from Philesietserus, and had arrived with rapid steps at home, yet he seemed to himself still to behold those beautiful splendours of the money, and already possessed in his mind an opulent spoil. The miserable man, also, was plucked and torn asunder into different opinions, with a wonderful fluctuation of mind. There fidelity, here gain urged him ; there torment dissuaded, here pleasure invited. Nevertheless, at last, gold vanquished the fear of death. Nor could his desire of the beautiful money be at least mitigated by time ; but pestilent avarice invaded him also with solicitude by night ; so that the threats of his master retained him at home, yet gold called him abroad. Then having devoured shame c, and removed delay, he immediately conveyed to the ears of his mistress the message of Philesietserus. Nor did the woman revolt from her genuine levity, but immediately sold her modesty for execrable metal. Thus Myrmex overflowing with joy at the precipice of his fidelity, and wishing not only to receive, but also to handle the money which he had seen to his destruction, gladly told Philesietserus, that he had at length, with great labour, accomplished what he desired, and immediately demanded the promised reward. And thus the hands of Myrmex now held golden, which had never before touched even copper money.

And now the night being advanced, he brought that strenuous lover, unattended by any one, to the house, and introduced him, with his head well covered, so as to conceal his face, into the bedchamber of his mistress. Scarcely, however, had they sacrificed to recent love

e In the original devorato pudore, which the Delphin editors alter in their interpretation to omni prorsus verecundia calcatd ; but in my opinion, for the worse. For to devour shame is a metaphor much bolder and more indicative of the total destruction of it, than to trample on it.

with new embraces, scarcely had the new and naked soldiers received the first stipends in the warfare of Venus, when the husband, availing himself of the opportunity afforded by night, was suddenly present, contrary to the expectation of every one. And now he knocks at the gate of his own house, now he calls, and strikes the door with a stone ; and becoming more and more suspicious by the delay, he threatens to inflict dire punishments on Myrmex. But he, being greatly agitated by the sudden evil, and brought to a want of counsel through his miserable trepidation, said, as the only thing which he could say. That the darkness of the night prevented him from finding the key which he had carefully concealed. In the meantime, Philesietaerus on hearing the clamour, having hastily put on his garment, but his feet through trepidation being uncovered, ran out of the bedchamber. Then Myrmex, having at length put the key into the lock, opened the gate, and received his master, loudly calling on the faith of the Gods ; and while he hastily goes into the bedchamber, Myrmex let out Philesietaerus, who hurried away with a clandestine flight. But Myrmex, as soon as Philesietaerus had left the house, considering himself as now secure, after he had fastened the door, again composed himself to sleep. Barbarus, however, on going out of the bedchamber at break of day, saw under the bed shoes unknown to him, which Philesietaerus had on when he entered into the chamber ; and suspecting from this circumstance what had been transacted, but not divulging either to his wife or any of his domestics the grief which he endured, he took the shoes, and privately concealed them in his bosom, and only ordering that Myrmex should be led bound by his fellow-servants towards the forum, he rapidly went thither himself, silently groaning, conceiving that he should certainly find who was the adulterer by the indication of the shoes. But behold, while Barbarus proceeded through the street enraged, with a turgid face, and contracted eyebrows, and Myrmex behind him oppressed with chains, not indeed

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULEHJS. BOOK IX. 207

detected in a manifest crime, but convicted by his own most evil conscience, and exciting inefficacious pity by his abundant tears and extreme lamentations ; while this took place, Philesieteerus opportunely passing that way, though he was previously engaged in business of a different kind, yet being moved, though not terrified by the sudden spectacle, and recollecting the fault occasioned by his haste, he suspected what was likely to follow. Immediately, therefore, having sagaciously assumed his usual audacity, and dispersing the servants [who led Myrmex along in chains], he rushed on Myrmex with extreme clamour, and gently striking him with his fist on the face. May this your master, said he, and all the celestial Gods, whom you have invoked by rashly swearing, destroy you as you deserve, O most iniquitous and perjured man ! who yesterday stole my shoes from the bath. You deserve, by Hercules you deserve to wear out those chains, and besides this also to endure the darkness of a prison. Barbarus, being deceived, or rather mocked by this opportune fallacy of the vigorous young man, and unsuspectingly believing in what he said, again returned home, and having called Myrmex and showed him the shoes, voluntarily pardoned him, and persuaded him to restore the shoes to the master from whom he had stolen them.”

Scarcely had the old woman finished her tale, when the baker's wife thus resumed her discourse : “ O how blessed is that woman who enjoys the liberty of associating with so firm a friend ! But I, miserable creature, have met with a lover who is even frightened at the noise of the mill, and the concealed face of that scabby ass.” To this the old woman replied : ** I will even now cause that lover of yours to be with you promptly at the appointed time, well persuaded and resolute.” And having likewise promised, that she would return in the evening, she departed from the bedchamber. But that chaste wife immediately prepared a princely banquet. She defecates by percolation the precious wine, tempers

the new-made pottage with seasoning, and furnishes the table with abundance of food. In short, the coining of the adulterer is expected like the advent [or manifestation] of some God. For opportunely the husband supped abroad at the house of a neighbouring fuller. Mid-day therefore approaching, I being at length freed from my harness, and permitted to refresh myself in quiet, I did not, by Hercules, so much rejoice in my liberation from labour, as that, my eyes being uncovered, I should now be able to behold, without restraint, all the arts of the wicked woman. The sun, indeed, having now descended under the ocean, had illuminated the inferior parts of the earth, when behold, the rash adulterer came, closely following the iniquitous old woman ; he himself being very young, and still conspicuous by the polished smoothness of his chin, still being himself the delight of adulterers. The woman having received him with many kisses, desired him to recline himself for the supper she had prepared. But no sooner had the young man touched with the extremity of his lips the cup which was drank out of previous to eating, and just begun to taste the food, than the husband came, returning much sooner than they expected. Then the egregious wife, having earnestly prayed for dire curses upon him, and wishing that he might break his legs, hid the adulterer, trembling with pale fear, under the wooden bin, which then happened to lie near her, in which a confused heap of corn was usually purified. And, by her innate craft, dissembling a deed so wicked, and assuming an intrepid countenance, she inquired of her husband, Why he came home so prematurely, relinquishing the supper of his most intimate companion? But he, with a mind perfectly afflicted, and continually sighing, said, “ Not being able to bear the detestable and extreme wickedness of an abandoned woman, I betook myself to flight. Good Gods ! what a wife! how faithful and how temperate, and yet she defiled herself with a most filthy· crime ! I swear, by this holy Ceres, that I can even now scarcely believe the testimony

of my eyes, concerning such a woman.” The most audacious wife of the baker, being incited by these words of her husband, and desiring to know the affair, did not cease to importune him to narrate the whole transaction, from the beginning. Nor did she desist, till her husband complied with her wish. And thus, being ignorant of the misfortune of his own house, he related that of the family of another.

“ The wife of my associate, the fuller, who seemed to be a woman of undefiled chastity, and who, being always renowned [for her modesty], chastely ruled the house of her husband, was inflamed with a secret love for a certain adulterer. And, as she continually indulged in furtive embraces with that young man, she was in the act of being connected with him at the very moment of time, in which we, having bathed, went to supper. Being, therefore, disturbed by our sudden presence, she hid him in a wicker coop, which being plaited from willow twigs into an erect heap, and smoked with the white fume of sulphur, was used for the purpose of whitening the cloth that was placed round it. And he being now safely concealed, as it seemed to her, she fearlessly participated with us of the table. In the meantime the young man being oppressed and obscured by the odour of the sulphur, became faint through the interception of his breath ; and that living mineral caused him to sneeze frequently, as it is natural for it to do. But as soon as the husband, who sat opposite to his wife, heard the sound of sneezing behind his back, because he thought it proceeded from his wife, he wished her well in the usual words f, and this he did when he again heard the sneezing,

f i. e. Jupiter save you , or. as we say in English, God bless you. Hence, an ancient poet, Amtnianus (in Lib. ii. Anthologiae), says :

Ουδέ λε^εί Ζευ σωσον, εαν πταξΥΐ' ου γαξ ακούει

Τ«ί ξινός, πο\υ γας τνς ακοής απεχει.

i. e. il Nor does he say, Jupiter save me , if he sneezes, for neither does he hear his own nose, in consequence of being very deaf.”

P

and also when it was frequently repeated ; till being moved by the excessive repetition of it, he at length suspected what the thing was. Immediately, therefore, pushing away the table at which he sat, and removing the coop, he drew forth a man, who was with great pain restoring his frequent emissions of breath. And being inflamed with indignation on account of the disgraceful circumstance, calling for a sword, he longed to kill a man who would have expired in a short time ; unless I, considering our common danger, had, though with difficulty, prevented him from his furious attack, by assuring him that his enemy would shortly die through the powerful odour of the sulphur, without any blame being attached to us. And he being rendered more mild, not by my persuasion, but by the necessity of the thing itself, brought him, who was now but half alive, into the next street. Then I secretly admonished, and at length prevailed on his wife, to withdraw herself for a short time from the shop, and betake herself to a certain woman with whom she was familiar, till the enraged mind of her husband should be appeased, who, I did not doubt, was so exasperated, and so agitated with fury, that he would certainly perpetrate something more deadly, both on himself and his wife. And thus, being wearied with the supper of my associate, I returned to my own house.” While the baker narrated these particulars, that shameless and audacious woman had, long before the tale was finished, expressed by execrations how much she detested the wife of the fuller ; calling her perfidious, unchaste, and lastly, the great disgrace of all her sex, who laying aside her own modesty, and trampling on the league of the marriage bed, had defiled with meritricious infamy the house of her husband : and now had procured for herself the name of a prostitute, having lost the dignity of a married woman. She added, that such females ought to be burnt alive. Nevertheless, through the joint admonitions of her silent wound, and her own filthy conscience, in order that she might sooner liberate her

adulterer from the torment of his covering, she frequently urged her husband to go to bed as soon as possible.

He, however, mildly requested that the table might be placed for him, as, his supper being intercepted at the house of the fuller, he had fled from thence perfectly hungry. Then the wife hastily set the table before him, though unwillingly, because it was designed for another person. But my bowels were profoundly lacerated, when I reflected on the preceding wickedness and the present audacity of this most abandoned woman ; and I sedulously deliberated with myself whether I could by any means give assistance to my master, by detecting and revealing the fraud [of his wife], and by throwing off the covering, expose to the view of every one him who was concealed like a tortoise under the bin. At length divine providence regarded me, thus tormented with the disgrace of my master. For the lame old man, to whose care our custody was committed, led all us labouring beasts, collected into one body, to the next lake for the sake of drinking, the time now requiring that this should be done. And this circumstance administered to me a most opportune occasion of revenge. For in passing by, I observed the extremities of the fingers of the adulterer, which were protuberant through the narrow openings of the hollow covering, and pressing these with my inflected and sharp hoof, I bruised them so as to reduce them to the greatest tenuity ; till, being excited by the intolerable pain, he sent forth a sorrowful clamour, and pushing away and throwing down the bin, he unfolded to the sight of all that were present the scenic apparatus of the lecherous woman. Nevertheless, the baker, not being greatly disturbed by the loss of his wife’s modesty, thus began to soothe, with a serene front and conciliated face, the young man who was trembling with exanguious paleness : “ You need not fear, my son, that any thing of a sorrowful nature will be inflicted on you by me ; I am not a barbarian, nor endued with a rustic deformity of manners ; nor will I kill you with the deadly fume of sulphur, after the

example of the truculent fuller; nor, indeed, will 1 bring such an elegant and beautiful youth in danger of losing his life, through the severity of the law concerning adultery ; but I will divide with my wife my pleasure with you, and she shall be common both to you and me. For I have always lived with my wife in such concord, that, according to the dogma of the philosophers, the same things are pleasing to both of us. But neither does equity suffer the wife to have more authority than the husband.” With such-like flattering language having derided the young man, he led him reluctant to a bed, and sending away his most chaste wife who followed him, to another bed, he, lying alone with the youth, enjoyed the most grateful avengement of corrupted nuptials.

But as soon as the lucid chariot of the Sun had made the day, the baker, having called two of his most robust servants, and striking with a ferula the buttocks of the youth, who was lifted to a considerable height for the purpose, said to him : “ Do you, who are so soft and tender, and but a boy, defrauding lovers, wantonly desire women in the flower of your age, and commit adultery with such as are free, and connected by the conjugal compact, and vindicate to yourself the unseasonable name of an adulterer ?” Having reproached him in these and many other words, and besides this, punished him abundantly with blows, he turned him out of doors. He, however, being the bravest of all adulterers, having obtained unhoped for safety, though his fair posteriors had been burst by night, and for a long time, sorrowfully fled. Nevertheless, the baker divorced his wife, and immediately thrust her out of her own house. But she, besides her genuine wickedness, being profoundly excited and exasperated by the contumelious language of her husband, though it was just, returned to her treasury of fraud, and the accustomed arts of females, and with great care searched for a certain crafty woman, who was believed to be capable of effecting any thing by incantations and sorcery, besought her wdth many prayers, and burdened

her with many gifts, requesting of her one of two things, viz. that she would either again cause her to be reconciled to her husband by appeasing him ; or, if that could not be accomplished, that she would send some ghost, or some dire demoniacal power, to take away his life by violent means. Then that sorceress, and who was capable of effecting divine works, employed at first only the milder instruments of her wicked art, and endeavoured to bend the mind of the husband that had been vehemently offended, and impel it to love. But when the event of the thing was different from what she expected, being indignant with the Gods, and, besides the loss of the gain which she would have obtained if she had succeeded, being also stimulated by the contempt [which she had sustained from the divine powers], she now began to attack the life of the most miserable husband, and to stimulate to his destruction the ghost of a certain woman, who had suffered a violent death.

Perhaps, however, O scrupulous reader, yon, reprehending my narration, will argue as follows : “ But whence, O foolish ass, could you know what was done by women in secret, as you say you did, when, at the same time, you were confined within the boundaries of a bakehouse V’ Hear, therefore, how a curious man, sustaining the form of an ass, knew all that was transacted with a view to the destruction of my master, the baker. Nearly about midday, a woman suddenly appeared in the bakehouse, deformed with severe sorrow, as if she was guilty of some crime, half clothed with a coarse mantle, having her feet naked, and without shoes ; and being ill-favoured through leanness, there was in her face a paleness like that of box. Her hair, likewise, was half grey, torn, and filthy through the interspersion of ashes, and hanging over her forehead, concealed the greatest part of her face. This woman, thus deformed in her attire, gently with her hand taking hold of the baker, led him into his bedchamber, as if she had something ter say

to him in secret, and having shut the door, she staid there a long time. But when all the corn was ground, which had been given to the servants of the baker, and it became necessary to ask for more, the lesser men-servants, standing near the bedchamber, called their master by name, and asked for more corn to supply the mill. And as no master answered them, though they frequently called him, and with a loud voice, they now more forcibly knocked at the door. Because, likewise, it had been most carefully bolted, suspecting something of greater consequence, and of a worse nature than usual, with great effort, they at length either plucked off or broke the hinges, and made an entrance for themselves. That woman, however, was no where to be foun^, but they saw their master hanging from a certain beam to which he was tied, and now lifeless. Freeing him, therefore, from the knot by which his neck was fastened, they took him down from the beam, with the greatest lamentations and weeping, and procured for his corpse the last ablution. Having, likewise, performed the offices pertaining to the dead, they buried him, a great crowd attending the funeral. On the following day, his daughter came running from the next little town, in which she had lately been married, sorrowful, shaking her pendulous hairs, and sometimes beating her breasts with her hands. For she knew all that happened, though no one had narrated to her the misfortune of the house ; because the lamentable form of her father had presented itself to her in sleep, having the neck still tied with a cord, and unfolded to her all the wickedness of her stepmother, the adultery, the enchantment, and how he had descended to the realms beneath, being strangled by a nocturnal ghost. And when she had tormented herself by long-continued lamentation, at length being restrained by the concourse of her friends and acquaintance, she gave a pause to her grief. And now the funeral solemnities being in the usual manner completed at his sepulchre, on the ninth day, she brought forth the servants, the furniture, and all

the labouring beasts, to be sold by auction. Then the rash fortune of an uncertain sale dispersed in various ways the property of one house.

Lastly ; a certain poor gardener bought me for fifty pieces of money, which he said was a great price ; but he purchased me in order that he might procure food for himself by our common labour. And the thing itself appears to me to require that I should also explain the discipline of this my servitude. In the morning, my master was accustomed to drive me to the next city, laden with many herbs, and, after he parted with them for a certain sum of money to those who sold them to others, he thus returned to his garden, sitting on my back. But while he was digging and watering, and performing other rural works, in a bent position, I, in the meantime, being at leisure, refreshed myself with placid quiet. Behold, however, the year running back through the number of days and months, by orderly and established circulations of the stars, had descended to the winterly frosts of Capricorn s , after the pleasures of the vintages of autumn ; but I was tormented by continual cold, through the daily rains and the nightly dews, being exposed to the open air, and shut up in an uncovered stable. For my master, on account of his great poverty, could not purchase, even for himself, and much less for me, some straw, or a small covering ; but he lived contented with the leafy umbrage which his little cottage afforded. Besides this also, in the morning I endured great labour, in walking with unshod feet on excessively cold clay, and pieces of very sharp ice ; and was not able to fill my belly with my accustomed food. For both my master and myself had an equal and similar supper; but it was very slender, since it consisted of old and unsavoury lettuces, which having, through the great age of the seeds, grown into an irregular height, like long brooms, had degenerated into the bitter putridity of muddy juice.

& For, when the sun enters into the sign Capricorn, winter commences.

On a certain night, the master of a family, of the next village, being impeded by the darkness of a moonlessnight, and wet through a heavy shower of rain, and, in consequence of this, prevented from pursuing his journey in the direct road, turned out of the way, with his now wearied horse, to our garden. And being as courteously received as the time would permit, though not in a delicate, yet in a necessary succour of rest '*, and desiring to remunerate his benignant host, he promised that he would give him from his farm some corn and oil, and, besides this, two cadi of wine. But my master, without delay, proceeded to the village of that master of a family, which was distant from his garden sixty stadia1, sitting on my naked back, and bringing with him a little sack, and empty bladders. And this journey being now finished, we came to the before-mentioned farm, and there the benignant host immediately gave my master to partake of a sumptuous dinner. While, too, they were exciting each other alternately to drink, a perfectly stupendous prodigy happened to take place. A hen, belonging to a coop in which others were kept, running through the middle area, made a noise with her native clangour, as if she wanted to lay an egg. Her master, beholding her, said, “ O good servant, and sufficiently prolific, who, for a long time, hast nourished us with the eggs which thou hast daily brought forth! Now also, as I see, you think about preparing for us a breakfast. And, ho ! boy,” said he, [speaking to one of his servants,] “ let the basket appointed for the hens when they are about to lay eggs, be placed in the accustomed corner.” While the boy was doing what he was ordered to do, the hen, kicking away the bed which had been made for her, as usual, in the basket, brought forth before the very feet of her master, a premature offspring, which was portentous of something very dire. For she did not bring forth an egg, such as we know a hen is accustomed to do, but a

1 i. e. Seven miles and a half.

chicken, perfectly furnished with feathers and claws, and eyes and voice ; and which immediately began to follow its mother.

In a similar manner also, another prodigy arose, far greater than the former, and at which all men would be justly terrified. For, under the very table which sustained the relics of the dinner, the earth opening itself from the bottom, a most copious fountain of blood burst forth ; and many drops rebounding from thence, sprinkled the table with gore. At that very moment likewise, in which all that were present were fixed in astonishment, admiring and trembling at those divine portents, one of the servants ran from the wine-cellar, announcing that all the wine, which had long ago been deposited in it, boiled up in all the vessels, wdth a fervent heat, and just as if a large fire had been put under it. In the meantime also, weasels were seen, out of the house, drawing into it a dead serpent; a small green frog leaped out of the mouth of a shepherd’s dog; and a ram, rushing on the dog which stood nero· him, strangled him by one bite. These prodigies, so many and so great, produced an extreme stupor, with great fear, in the minds of the master of that house, and of all his family ; so that they knew not what should be done first or last, what would more, or what would less appease the anger of the Gods, or how many, and what kind of expiatory victims should be procured.

And while all of them were still torpid, through the expectation of some most horrible subject of fear, a certain little servant came running, and announced to his master the great and extreme destruction of his family ; for he lived full of glory, through having three sons, now adult, furnished with learning, and endued with modesty. Between these young men, and a certain poor man, the master of a small cottage, there was an ancient familiarity. But a powerful, rich, and young neighbour, and who badly ' used the renown of his ancestors’ race, possessed ample and fertile fields, contiguous to that small cottage. And, as he was powerful in the number of his dependents.

21S THE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

and easily accomplished in the city whatever he pleased, he behaved in a very hostile manner to a poor man, who was his neighbour, by killing his sheep, taking away his oxen, and trampling on his corn before it was ripe. When, also, he had now entirely deprived him of the product of his labour, he likewise desired to expel him from the possession of his farm ; and, exciting a frivolous controversy about the boundaries of the fields, he vindicated the whole of the land to himself. Then that rustic, who was otherwise a simple, harmless man, seeing himself plundered through the avarice of a rich man, in order that he might at least retain enough of his paternal land for a sepulchre, collected together, with great trepidation, many friends, for the purpose of demonstrating to them what were the boundaries of his land. Among others, those three brothers were present, affording some small assistance to the great misfortune of their friend. Nevertheless, the insanely furious rich man, not being in the least terrified, or even confused, by the presence of many citizens, not only was unwilling to abstain from rapine, but also from intemperance of language. For, when they mildly expostulated with him, and endeavoured to mitigate his fierce manners by soothing words, he, immediately swearing most sacredly by his own safety and that of his friends, asserted, That he considered the presence of so many mediators to be a thing of small consequence ; and, lastly, that he would order his servants to take that neighbour of his by the ears, and expel him to a great distance from his little cottage, and that this should be done immediately. When he had thus said, the greatest indignation was excited in the minds of all that heard him. Then one of the three brothers answered, without delay, and a little more freely, That he in vain, trusting to his riches, threatened, with tyrannic pride, since the poor also are accustomed to be avenged of the insolence of the rich, through the liberal aid afforded by the laws. Such as oil is to flame, sulphur to burning, and a whip to the Furies, such was the fuel of these words to this furious

man. And now, being insensate, even to extreme insanity, and proclaiming, that he would send all of them, and their laws too, to be hanged, he ordered the shepherds’ dogs to be liberated, and also the mastiffs, that were fierce and cruel, and accustomed to feed on the dead bodies that were thrown into the fields ; and, besides this, were nourished by the bites with which they every where lacerated the passing traveller; and he likewise commanded, that they should be urged to the destruction of the men that were present. But these, as soon as, by the accustomed signal of the shepherds, they were excited and inflamed, rushed on the men with furious rage, being, at the same time, horrible by their dissonant barking ; and, attacking, they pluck their flesh, and lacerate them with various wounds. Nor did they even spare them while they fled ; but, being more irritated by their flight, more eagerly pursued them.

Then, among the condensed slaughter of a trembling and flying multitude, the youngest of the three brothers stumbled against a stone, and, having bruised his fingers, was thrown on the ground, and furnished a nefarious feast to those cruel and most ferocious dogs. For, immediately, having found a prostrate prey, they tore in pieces the miserable young man. And, as soon as the rest of his brothers knew that he was dying, by his piercing cries, they ran, overwhelmed with sorrow, to give him assistance, and, rolling their garments about their left hands, they strive to defend their brother, and to drive off the dogs, by throwing at them many stones. They could not, however, either terrify or vanquish their ferocity. For the miserable young man, being torn in pieces, immediately died, entreating, with his last words, that they would revenge the death of their youngest brother on that most filthy rich man. Then the two remaining brothers, not, by Hercules, so much despairing of, as voluntarily neglecting, their own safety, hastily attacked the wealthy man, and hurled many stones at him, with great ardour, and a furious impetus. But the bloody

murderer, who, prior to this, had been exercised in many similar abominable deeds, throwing a lance, pierced one of the two brothers through the middle of the breast. Yet the young man did not fall on the ground, though he was slain, and perfectly lifeless. For the lance, which had penetrated through him, and the greater part of which came out at his back, was, by the violence of the impulse, fixed in the earth, and kept his body suspended by its firmness and rigidity. But one of the servants also, who was tall and robust, giving assistance to that homicide, sent from afar a stone, with great force, at the right arm of the third brother ; but the stone, passing through the extremities of his fingers with a vain impetus, fell to the ground innoxious, contrary to the opinion of all that were present. Nevertheless, this milder event administered to the most sagacious young man some hope of revenge. For, pretending that his hand was debilitated by the blow, he thus addressed the most cruel wealthy man : “ Enjoy the destruction of the whole of our family, feed your insatiable cruelty with the blood of three brothers, and triumph gloriously over your prostrate citizens ; only remember, that you will always have some neighbour, though you may give a still greater and greater extent to the boundaries of your lands. For this my right hand, which would have entirely cut off your head, now being bruised, is rendered incapable of effecting this, through the iniquity of Fate.” The furious thief, being exasperated by this speech, seizing a sword, rushed on the most miserable young man, intending to slay him with his own hand. He did not, however, attack one who was weaker than himself. For the young man, unexpectedly resisting, and far contrary to his opinion, seized his right hand with a most strong embrace, and, brandishing the sword with a great effort, expelled the impure soul of the rich man, by many and frequent blows; and, that he might also liberate himself from the hands of his domestics, w ho were running [to the assistance of their master], he immediately cut his throat with the sword

which was yet sprinkled with the blood of his enemy. These were the things which the [before-mentioned] astonishing prodigies had foreshown ; and these were the circumstances which were narrated to the most miserable master. Nor could the old man, surrounded by so many evils, utter any word, nor even silently weep; but, seizing the knife with which he had then divided among his guests the cheese and other parts of the dinner, he also sorely wounded his own throat with many stabs, in imitation of his most unhappy son, till, falling prone on the table, he washed away, with a river of new blood, the stains of that portentous blood [which suddenly burst forth from the earth]. The gardener, commiserating the fate of that house, which was, after this manner, destroyed in the shortest space of time, and grievously deploring the cruel events k which had taken place, and also paying for his dinner with tears, and frequently striking together his empty hands, he immediately got on my back, and returned through the road by which we came.

His return, however, was not, at least, innoxious to him. For a certain tall man, and who was a legionary soldier, as his dress and appearance indicated, meeting us on the road, asked the gardener, in proud and arrogant language. Whither he was leading an empty ass ? But my master, who was yet full of grief, and, besides this, was ignorant of the Latin tongue, silently passed by him. The soldier, therefore, being indignant at his silence, as a mark of contempt, thrust him from my back, at the same time striking; him with the branch of a vine which he held in

k In the original, suosque casus , instead of which I read, with Pricseus, scevos casus; as it is more honourable to the gardener to represent him deploring the unhappy destiny of his host, instead of grieving that, by his death, he should be deprived of the wine and oil which he had hoped to take away.

1 This shows that the soldier was a centurion; for it was peculiar to centurions to carry vines, with which they chastised soldiers that had committed any offence. Hence, in Latin, a vine is metonymically used by poets for the office of a, centurion.

his hand. Then the gardener suppliantly answered. That he could not know what he said, through his ignorance of the Latin language. The soldier, therefore, subjoining, in Greek, said, “ Whither do you lead this ass?” The gardener answered. That he was going to the next city. “ But I,” said the soldier, “ am in want of its assistance. For it is requisite that it should carry, from the neighbouring little town, with other labouring beasts, the baggage of our prefect.” And, immediately laying hold of the rope by which I was led, he began to draw me along. But the gardener, wiping away the blood which trickled from his head, through the wound of the former blow, again entreated the soldier to act by him more humanely and mildly ; and this he did, conjuring him by his prosperous hopes. “ For this ass,” said he, “ is sluggish, and, besides this, frequently falls, through that detestable disease [epilepsy] ; and it is with great difficulty that he usually carries a few bundles of herbs from a neighbouring garden, and in doing this he is fatigued, and his respiration is languid ; so far is he from being adapted to carry larger burdens. After perceiving, however, that the soldier could not be appeased by any prayers, but was in a greater degree incited to his destruction, and that, now having inverted the vine branch, he was preparing to fracture his skull with a larger knot of the branch, he fled to his last resource, and, feigning that he wished to embrace his knees, in order to excite his compassion, he inclined and bent himself, and, taking hold of both his feet, lifted him up, and violently dashed him on the ground. Immediately afterwards, likewise, he struck every part of his face, his hands, and his sides, at one time with his fists, at another with his elbows; and, besides this, he bit him, and beat him with a stone taken up in the road. Nor could the soldier either resist, or by any means defend himself, after he was laid prostrate on the ground; but could only frequently threaten, that, if he rose again, he wrould cut him in pieces with his sword. The gardener, being admonished by these words, snatched

the sword from him, and, throwing it to a great distance, again attacked him with severer blows. But the soldier, being prostrate, and prevented by wounds [from defending himself], as he could not find any other means of safety, feigned that he was dead, which was the only thing that remained for him to do. Then the gardener, taking with him that sword, got on my back, and proceeded rapidly in a direct line to the city; and, not even thinking of at least visiting his own garden, he betook himself to a certain person with whom he was familiarly acquainted. And, having narrated to this friend every thing which had happened to him, he implored his assistance in his present dangerous situation, and requested that he would conceal him and his ass, for some time, till he had escaped a capital indictment, by being latent for two or three days. But this acquaintance, not being forgetful of ancient friendship, promptly received him, and having drawn me (my legs being folded together), by means of a ladder, into the highest room of the house, the gardener crept into a certain chest that was in the cellar, and, covering himself over with the lid of it, there lay concealed.

The soldier, however, as I afterwards learnt, being at length roused, as if from excessive intoxication, nevertheless staggering and feeble, from the pain of so many wounds, and scarcely able to support himself by a staff, came into the city; and, fearing to mention to any one of the citizens any particulars of his violence and inertness, but tacitly devouring the injury he had sustained, when he met with some of his fellow-soldiers, he then told them of his misfortune. But they were of opinion, that he should conceal himself for some time in their military dwelling; for, besides his own proper disgrace, he feared also the military Genius111, who presides over

m i. e. The Genius of the emperor, by whom the Roman soldiers solemnly swore, that they would never desert the business of war, nor refuse to die for the Roman republic, and that they would strenuously perform every thing which the emperor commanded them to do.

the military oath, on account of the sword which he had lost. They, however, having observed our footsteps, diligently applied themselves to the discovery of us, and to their own revenge. Nor was a perfidious neighbour wanting, who told them that we were there concealed. Then his fellow-soldiers went to the magistrates, and pretended that they had lost on the road a very valuable silver vessel, belonging to their prefect, and that a certain gardener had found it, and was unwilling to restore it, but wras now concealed in the house of a friend. Then the magistrates, becoming acquainted with the loss, and the name of the prefect, came to the gate of our dwelling, and, with a loud voice, announced to our host that it would be better for him to deliver us up, who wTere certainly concealed in his house, than to undergo the danger of losing his life. But he, not being in the least terrified, and consulting the safety of him whom he had taken under his protection, did not confess any thing concerning us, and asserted, that he had not seen that gardener for some days. On the contrary, the soldiers, swearing by the Genius of the emperor, affirmed that he was concealed there, and not in any other place. At length, however, the magistrates were determined, by investigation, to confute him in his obstinate denial. Having, therefore, sent the lictors into the house, and the other public ministers, they ordered them diligently to explore every thing, in all the corners of the apartments. But they, having searched, declared that no man, nor even the ass itself, were to be found in any part of the house. Then the altercation became more vehement on both sides ; on the part of the soldiers, who asserted that we were certainly there, and frequently implored the assistance of Caesar ; and, on the part of the master of the house, who denied the accusation, and continually called the Gods to testify [the truth of what he said]. I, therefore, who wras, in other respects, an inquisitive ass, and endued with a restless petulance, when Ϊ heard the contention and clamorous murmur,

was desirous, by looking through a certain window, with my neck in an oblique position, to see what was the meaning of that tumult ; and, while I was so doing, one of the soldiers, having by chance turned his eyes to my shadow, called all of them to be witnesses of it publicly. Lastly, a great clamour was presently raised, and certain persons immediately coming to me, by the assistance of ladders, laid their hands on me, and drew me from the place of my concealment, as a captive. And now, without any delay, more carefully exploring every thing, and uncovering also the chest, they found the miserable gardener, drew him out from thence, presented him to the magistrates, and led him to a public prison, in order that he might suffer capital punishment. Nor could they refrain from jesting, accompanied with the greatest laughter, at my looking out of the window. Whence, also, the proverb originated, which is very much used, concerning the inspection and shadow of an ass n.

n This proverb, which Apuleius jocularly says originated from the above-mentioned circumstance, is of much greater antiquity. Lucian has only sf ονου παξαχυ-^εως , from the oblique view of an ass. There is also another Greek proverb, mentioned by Menander, Plato, and many others, υπεζ mu α-κια,ζ, concerning the shadow of an ass , which is said of those who are anxious to know things futile, frivolous, and entirely useless. These two proverbs Apuleius has mingled into one.

Q

BOOK THE TENTH.

What my master the gardener did, on the following day, I know not. But the soldier, who was most beautifully beaten, on account of his extreme imbecility, loosened me, and brought me away from that manger, without the prohibition of any one. From his owm tent also, as it appeared to me, he led me into the public road, laden with his own bundles, and perfectly adorned and equipped in a military manner. For he placed on my back a glittering helmet, a shield far more splendid than the rest of the armour, and also a lance, conspicuous for its very long steel head, which he diligently disposed on the top of the bundles, as it is usual to do in an army, not then, indeed, for the sake of discipline, but for the purpose of terrifying miserable travellers. Having, therefore, passed over the plains, which was attended with no difficulty, we came to a certain little town ; nor did we then betake ourselves to an inn, but to the house of a decurion. And, when the soldier had delivered me to the care of a certain servant, he, without delay, solicitously proceeded to his own prefect, who had the command of a thousand soldiers.

I remember that a most wicked and detestable deed wras perpetrated in that town, a few days after our arrival. But I will insert it in my book, that you also may read it. The master of that house had a son, who was a young

man of great literary attainments, and, on that account, was consequently remarkable for his piety and modesty a; so that you also would wish to have him, or his like, for a son. The mother of this young man having been dead for many years, the father had married again ; and, from another wife, had begotten another son, who had now just passed beyond the twelfth year of his age. But the stepmother, who was powerful in the house of her husband, rather from her beauty, than the worthiness of her manners, regarded her son-in-law with wanton eyes, whether she was naturally immodest, or was impelled by Fate to that extreme wickedness. Now, therefore, excellent reader, know that you will peruse a tragedy, and not a comedy, and that you will ascend from the shoe to the buskin b. As long, however, as the amatory desire, which she nourished from the beginning, was small, its force being yet imbecile, the woman, easily repressing the slender flame, resisted it in silence. But when love, immoderately raging, burnt the whole of her breast with an insane fire, she was then vanquished by the fierce and tyrannical God j and, feigning illness, she pretended that her disease was not mental, but occasioned by the languid state of her body. Now there is not any one wTho is ignorant, that all the detriments which the health and the face sustain accurately accord both with those that are ill, and those that are in love ; such as, a deformed paleness, marcid eyes, weary legs, turbulent sleep, and sighs, more vehement from the slowness of the torment [by which they are produced]. You might believe that she was only agitated by feverish vapours, if she had not also wept. Alas ! unskilful physicians ! What do the pulsa-

a Literary attainments, at the time of Apuleius, must have been very different from what they are at present. For piety and modesty are not the consequential results of great learning, acquired at modem public schools and universities.

b i. e. From comedy, or pleasant tales, to tragedy, or a sorrowful and dismal narration ; the shoe being peculiar to comedy, but the buskin to tragedy.

lion of tli e artery, immoderate heat, wearied respiration, and the frequent and reciprocal changes and turnings of the sides indicate? Good Gods! how easy is the comprehension of amatory desire, by one who is learned, though he does not profess the medical art, when he sees some one burning without bodily heat0.

Being, therefore, more profoundly agitated by the impatience of [venereal] fury'1, she, at length, burst her long silence, and ordered her son to be called to her, which name she would have willingly obliterated in him, in order that she might not, by using it, be admonished of her shameless passion. Nor did the young man make any delay in obeying the mandate of his diseased parent; but, having his forehead wrinkled with sorrow [for her pretended illness], like that of an old man, he went into the bedchamber of the wife of his father and the mother of his brother, paying that obedience to her which was, in a certain respect, her due. But she, being for a long time fatigued by tormenting silence, and hesitating, as in a shallow of doubt, rejecting every word, which she, at first, conceived to be most adapted to the present occasion, and even now fluctuating through shame, she was dubious whence she should assume the exordium of her speech. The young man, however, not then suspecting any thing sinister, with a dejected countenance, spontaneously asked her, What were the causes of her present

c i. e. Burning with a heat which does not originate from the body, hut from the mind. The Delphin editor, not perceiving this meaning of the words, observes, that Apuleius seems to contradict himself, as he had, a little before, mentioned heat as one of the indications of love, unless we suppose him to mean a violent heat, such as that of a fever. But their note is as follows : “ Videtur sibi ipsi adversary, modb enim calorem annumeravit, amoris indiciis, quid, culoris intemperantia? Nisi dicere velimus intelligendum esse violento calore , ct qualis in febre laborantibus deprchenditur.”

d In the original, “ Ergo igitur impatientia furoris altius agitata/’ which the Delphin editor interprets by, “ Igitur impotentia amoris vesani exagitata profundiusT But why they substitute vnpoienti& for itupatirnfiu , I know not.

disease? Then she, availing herself of the pernicious opportunity afforded by solitude, burst out into audacity, and weeping abundantly, and hiding her face with her garment, with a trembling voice thus briefly addressed him : You yourself are the whole cause and origin of this my disease, and you are also the remedy, and the only health of my life. For those eyes of yours, having penetrated through my eyes into the most inward recesses of my breast, have there excited a most vehement fire. Take pity, therefore, on me, who am perishing for your sake. Nor should your reverential regard for your father at all deter you, since, by complying with my wishes, you will preserve for him a wife, who must otherwise die. For I justly love you, in consequence of recognising his image in your face. You will be perfectly secure, on account of the solitude of the place, and you will also have leisure sufficient for the accomplishment of this necessary crime : for that which no one knows has nearly no existence/’ The young man being disturbed by the sudden evil, though he immediately abhorred such an abominable deed, yet did not think it fit to exasperate her by the unseasonable severity of a denial, but to appease her by the procrastination of a crafty promise. He promised, therefore, abundantly, and earnestly persuaded her to keep up her spirits, restore her strength by nutriment, and pay attention to her health, till a free space of time should be granted to pleasure, by some journey of his father; and he immediately withdrew himself from the noxious view of his stepmother. Conceiving likewise that this great destruction with which his house was threatened required more abundant counsel, he immediately related the affair to a certain aged tutor of well-tried gravity and prudence. And, after long-continued deliberation, nothing seemed to be so salutary, as to escape the tempest of raging Fortune by a rapid flight. But the woman, being impatient even of the smallest delay, having devised a certain occasion, immediately persuaded her husband, with wonderful art, to take a journey, with all speed, to

certain little farms which were situated at a great distance. Which being done, she, precipitately urged by the insanity of accelerated hope, demands the accomplishment of the promised gratification of her lust. The young man, however, avoids her execrable sight, adducing at one time this thing, and at another that, as the cause of his delay ; till she manifestly perceiving, from the variety of his messages, that he refused to fulfil his promise to her, transferred, with a lubricous mobility, her nefarious love to a far more pernicious hatred. And immediately calling a most iniquitous servant, whom she had brought with her dowry to her husband, and who was prepared for the perpetration of any wickedness, she communicated to him the counsels of her perfidy ; nor did any thing seem to them to be better, than to deprive the miserable young man of life. She immediately, therefore, sent this villanous servant to buy the most effective poison, and, having diligently diluted it with wine, she prepared it for the destruction of her innocent son-in-law.

And while the wicked servant and stepmother deliberate with themselves about the fit time of giving him the poison, it happened that the junior youth, who was the proper son of this most abandoned woman, returning home after the labour of his morning studies, and being thirsty after taking his breakfast, found the cup of wine, in which the enclosed poison was concealed, and drank it up at one draught, being ignorant of the latent fraud which it contained ; who, as soon as he had drank the death which had been prepared for his brother, fell lifeless on the ground. Immediately the tutor of the youth, being agitated by his sudden death, called the mother and all the family, with a howding clamour. And now, the case of the noxious potion being know n, each of those that wTere present ascribed to different authors the nefarious deed. But that dire woman, and who was a singular example of novercal malice, not being at all moved by the bitter death of her son, nor by the consciousness of parricide, nor by the misfortune of her

house, nor the grief of her husband, nor funereal sorrow, took a shorter method of revenge, by the destruction of her family. She immediately, therefore, sent a courier to inform her husband, on his journey, of the calamity that had befallen his house. And on his arrival, he having rapidly returned, she, assuming excessive audacity, pretended that her son was destroyed by poison, administered to him by her son-in-law. And, in asserting this indeed, she did not altogether speak falsely, because the boy had preoccupied the death which was prepared for the young man. But she feigned that the younger brother was destroyed through the wickedness of her son-in-law, because he was unwilling to give assistance e to the disgraceful lust by which her son-in-law had endeavoured to commit adultery with her. Nor was she contented with lies so enormous, but she also added, that he threatened . her with a sword, because she had detected his wickedness. Then the unhappy man, being greatly afflicted by the death of both his sons, is agitated like the waves of the sea, with mighty tempests of sorrow. For he saw his younger son buried before his face, and he knew that his other son would certainly be condemned to death for incest and parricide. Besides this, also, he was impelled to extreme hatred of this son by the feigned lamentations of his too dearly beloved wife.

Scarcely, therefore, were the funeral rites pertaining to the interment of his son performed, when immediately the miserable old man hastily proceeded from his pyre to the forum, irrigating his face with tears yet recent, and tearing his hoary hairs, defiled with ashes. And there, with all his passions at work, he endeavours to procure the destruction of his remaining son, both by tears and supplications, and, for this purpose also, embracing the knees of the senators, being ignorant of the fraud of the most

e In the original, in all the editions of Apuleius, quod ejus probrosa libidini, qua se comprimere tentaverat , noluisset succumbere. But, for succumbere, I read succurrere.

abandoned woman, lie exclaimed that his son was incestuous, through his attempting to violate the paternal bed, a parricide through the death of his brother, and a matricide, because he had attempted to kill his stepmother. Lastly, thus lamenting, he inflamed with so much commiseration, and with such great indignation, the senate and the people, that, laying aside the tediousness of a judicial process, and the manifest proofs of accusation, and also the meditated labyrinths of answer, they all cried out, that a public evil should be punished publicly, and that [the author of] it should be destroyed by being overwhelmed with stones. In the meantime, the magistrates, through the fear of peculiar danger, viz. lest sedition should proceed from the small elements of indignation, to the destruction of discipline and the city itself, began partly to beseech the senators, and partly to restrain the people, that sentence might be pronounced conformably to the civil law, judgment being properly passed according to the custom of their ancestors, and the allegations on both sides [equitably] examined. They added, “ That no one should be condemned without a hearing, after the manner of Barbaric fierceness, or tyrannic violence, since by so doing, they would leave, in this time of profound peace, a dire (example to posterity. ”

The salutary counsel pleased them ; and immediately the crier was ordered to proclaim that the senators should assemble together in the senate-house. But when these were seated in their accustomed places, according to the order of their dignity, the crier again calling, the first accuser came forward. Then, in the last place, the defendant also being cited, was introduced. And the crier, in conformity to the Attic law, and that of the Areopagus, announced to the advocates, that they should plead without preambles, and without endeavouring to excite commiseration. I knew that these things were thus transacted from what was said by many in their conferences with each other. But as I was not present at the trial, because I was tied to the manger, I could not

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. BOOK X. 233

know what words the accuser employed, nor by what arguments the defendant confuted him, nor in short, what were the speeches and answers ; nor can I narrate to you things of which I am ignorant ; but I shall only commit to writing what I have found to be certainly true. For as soon as the contention of the orators was finished, the senators thought fit that the truth and credibility of the crimes should be shown by certain proofs, and that a thing of such great consequence should not be left to suspicions and conjecture*. They, likewise, thought it requisite that the servant who was said to be the only one that knew these things were thus transacted, should, by all means, be brought forward. Nor was that disciple of the crosse in the least disturbed, either by the doubtful event of so great a prosecution, or by the view of a full court, or even by his own evil conscience, but began to affirm and assert those things which he had himself devised, as if they were true. For he said, “ That the young man, being indignant with the fastidiousness of his mother-in-law, had called him; that, in order to avenge the injury, he had ordered him to destroy her son ; that he had promised him a great reward if he was silent; that on his refusing to do what he wished, he had threatened him with death ; that he had delivered to him the poison diluted with his own hand, to be given to his brother ; and that on his suspecting he had neglected to give him the potion, and had reserved it for a proof of the crime, he at length had extended it to the boy with his own hand.” When this villanous knave, with a feigned trepidation, had uttered these egregious lies, which had very much the appearance of truth, the inquiries and proofs were finished. Nor was any one of the senators so

f In the original, nec suspicionibus tantam coujeduram permitli placuit ; bat for corijecturam , I read conjecturisque, after tantam , rem being understood.

s In the original cruciarius , which, according to Plautus, signifies disc ip ulus crucis.

favourable to the young man, as not to pronounce, that be ought to be sewed up in a leathern sack, as lie was evidently found to be guilty of the crime of which he was accused.

The opinions of all of them being concordant, according to a custom perpetually observed, they were to have been committed to writing [in tablets or shells], and put into an urn, after which the die being cast, it was not lawful for any thing to be changed, but the life of the accused person was in the hand of the executioner. Before this, however, could be done, a certain physician belonging to the senate, of an advanced age, of transcendent fidelity, and of great authority, covering with his hand the orifice of the urn, lest any one should rashly put into it his shell, thus addressed the court : “ I rejoice that I have lived long, because, even as far as to this period of my life, I have obtained your approbation. Nor will I suffer a manifest homicide to be perpetrated, since this defendant is accused of false crimes ; nor you who, being bound by an oath, act as judges, to commit perjury, being induced to do so by the lying testimony of a servant. I myself cannot bear to decide iniquitously, deceiving my own conscience, and trampling on the reverence which is due to the Gods. Learn, therefore, from me, the truth of the affair. This villanous fellow, being solicitous to procure the most effective poison, which he said was necessary for a certain sick person, who being vehemently afflicted by the long continuance of an incurable disease, was anxious to withdraw himself from the torments of life ; this fellow came to me some time ago, and offered me a hundred golden solidi [i. e. a hundred shillings], for the purchase of the poison. But I, perceiving the vain blabbering of that iniquitous knave, and that he assigned unappropriate causes, and also being certain that he was about to perpetrate something iniquitous, I gave him indeed a potion, but providing for an investigation into the affair which mmht be made at some future time, I did not immediately accept the price

which he offered me. But I said to him, * Lest by^chance some one of these golden solidi which you offer me, should be found to be bad, or adulterated, deposit them in this bag, and impress it with your own seal, till they are to-morrow examined in the presence of a banker.’ Being persuaded by what I said, he sealed the money, which, immediately after he was brought here to give evidence, I ordered one of my servants to take speedily from my shop, and bring it to this place. And behold, I will exhibit them to you taken out of the bag. Let him see, and recognise his own seal. For how can the son-inlaw of the stepmother be accused of having procured the poison which this servant bought?”

After this, a great trepidation seized the villain ; a deadly paleness succeeded to his native colour ; and a cold sweat ran through all his members. Then he began to move his feet with uncertain alternations ; to scratch now this, now that part of his head ; and to utter foolishly I know not what trifles, stammering with a half-closed mouth; so that no one could justly think him to be entirely innocent of the crime. His craft, however, being again restored, he did not cease to deny the charge most firmly, and to accuse the physician of a lie. But the physician, independently of his being bound by oath to decide justly, when he saw that his honour was openly lacerated, endeavoured, with an increased effort, to confute that nefarious knave ; till the public servants, by order of the magistrates, taking hold of the hands of the most iniquitous servant, found the iron ring, and compared it with the seal of the bag : which comparison corroborated the preceding suspicion. Nor were the wheel and the rack called equuieus wanting, prepared for the purpose of tormenting him, after the manner of the Greeks. But he, being strengthened by a wonderful audacity, did not succumb to any blows, nor even to fire itself. Then the physician said, “ I will not suffer, by Hercules, I will not suffer, either that you should punish that innocent young man unjustly, or that this fellow should escape the

punishment of his nefarious deed, our judgment being frustrated. For 1 will give you an evident proof of the present affair. When this most abandoned man was anxious to procure the deadly poison, but I did not think it accorded with my art to administer to any one the causes of death, having learnt that medicine was not sought after for the destruction, but for the preservation of men ; fearing lest, if I refused to give it to him, I should open for him a path to wickedness by an unseasonable repulse, and that he would accomplish the nefarious design he had begun, either by buying a deadly potion from some other person, or lastly, by the sword, or some different weapon ; fearing this, I gave him not poison, but a preparation of that somniferous plant mandrake, famous for the torpor which it occasions, and which produces a sleep most similar to death. Nor is it wonderful that this most desperate knave, being certain of suffering the extreme punishment which must befal him conformably to the custom of our ancestors, should easily endure these torments, as things of a lighter nature. But if the boy has really taken the potion which was tempered by my hands, he still lives, is in a quiescent state, and sleeps ; and immediately on the oppressive sleep being dissipated, he will return to the lucid day. But if he has truly perished, if he is truly overtaken by death, you may from other sources investigate the causes of his destruction.”

The old man having thus addressed the senators, they assented to what he said ; and immediately proceeded with great haste to that sepulchre, in which the body of the boy was deposited. There was not any one of the senate, nor any one among those of the first rank, that did not run thither, impelled by curiosity. And behold, the father himself, having with his own hands removed the lid of the coffin, found his son rising from death, the deadly sleep being just then dissipated ; and having most closely embraced him, and not being able to express in words his present joy, he led him forth to the people, and the boy was brought into court, in the condition in which

lie still was bound and wrapt in funeral garments. Now likewise, the naked truth was obvious to every one, the wickedness being manifested of the most iniquitous servant, and of the still more abandoned woman. And the stepmother, indeed, was condemned to perpetual exile ; but the servant was hanged ; and by the consent of all, the golden solidi were given to the good physician, as the reward of the opportune sleep which he had procured. Thus the famous and fabulous'1 fortune of that old man received a termination worthy the providence of the Gods ; since in a slender moment, or rather in the smallest point of time, he suddenly became the father of two young men, after he had been in danger of losing both.

But I, at that time, was rolled about by such tempestuous waves of Fate as the following : That soldier who bought me without any one selling me, and who made me his own without price, paying due obedience to the mandate of his tribune, being about to carry letters to the great prince [i. e. to the emperor], towards Rome, sold me for eleven pence to two servants in the neighbourhood, who were brothers. The master of these was a very opulent man. But one of them was a confectioner, who made bread and eatables tempered with honey ; and the other was a cook, who, by the assistance of heat, made minced meat seasoned with the sweetest juices of bruised herbs and aromatics. These two, dwelling together, lived in common, and bought me for the purpose of carrying those numerous vessels which were necessary to their masters for various uses, when they travelled through many regions. I was taken, therefore, as a third companion with those : not having at any time [of my transformation], experienced a fortune so benevolent. For, in the evening, after most sumptuous suppers, and

h i. e. As the Delphin editors well observe, it was a fortune so wonderful, as scarcely to be believed; or it was tragical, and worthy to be exhibited in fables or tragedies.

the most splendid apparatus of them, my masters were accustomed to take into their own little room many fragments ; one of them, the most ample remains of pigs, chicken, fishes, and mince meat of every kind ; but the other bread, pastry, spice cakes, tarts in the shape of hooks and lizards, and many honied sweetmeats. When these two having; fastened the door of their chamber, went to the baths, for the sake of refreshing themselves, I abundantly feasted myself on the dainties which were offered to me through the favour of the Gods. For I was not so stupid, and so truly an ass, as to eat very hard and rough hay, neglecting that most delicious food. And for a long time, indeed, the artifice of my theft succeeded most beautifully, because, as yet, I stole timidly, and in a sufficiently sparing manner, a few things out of so many, and they did not suspect any fraud in an ass. But when, becoming still more confident of concealment, I devoured the most exquisite fragments, and, rejecting the more rancid, began to eat the sweeter morsels ; no small suspicion stimulated the minds of the brothers. And though they did not then believe any such thing of me, nevertheless, they diligently investigated the author of their daily loss. At length, also, they accused each other of that most disgraceful rapine. And now they bestowed greater care, and a more vigilant observation, and counted the fragments.

At length, being no longer restrained by bashfulness, one of them thus* addressed the other : “ It is neither equitable, nor courteous, that you should daily purloin the choicest parts, and by selling them, latently increase your wealth, and yet contend for an equal division of what remains. For in short, if our partnership is displeasing to you, we may indeed remain brothers so far as pertains to every thing else, and yet depart from this bond of communion. For I see that complaint of the loss, proceeding to infinity, nourishes very great discord between us.” To this the other replied, " I also, by Hercules, applaud your perseverance, that after you have daily and secretly

stolen fragments, you have prevented the complaint, which I have for a long time silently and sorrowfully retained, lest I should seem to accuse my brother of sordid rapine. But it is well, that by speaking to each other, we seek a remedy for our loss, lest our dissembled hatred increasing by silence, should excite in us Eteoclean contentions1-.” After these, and other similar reproaches arising from their mutual altercation, they both of them swore that they had not committed any fraud, nor any theft; but agreed, that they ought by all possible means to search after the thief, who was the cause of their common loss. For they said, it was not possible that the ass, which alone was present, could be delighted with such kind of food : and yet the choicest portions of it were daily not to be found. They added, that neither did flies so large as were the Harpies of old, who took away by violence the food of Phineus, wing their way into their apartment.

In the meantime, I, being largely fed with dainty morsels, and abundantly satisfied with human food, filled my body with gross fat ; rendered my hide soft with succulent suet ; and nourished my hairs with a liberal neatness. But that gracefulness of my body produced a great disgrace to my modesty. For they being excited [to suspicion] by the unusual distention of my hide, and perceiving that my hay remained daily untouched, they now directed all their attention to me. And having as usual shut the doors at the accustomed hour, as if they were going to the baths, they beheld me through a certain small chink, intently eating the fragments which were every where exposed. Now, therefore, laying aside all concern for their loss, they burst into a loud laugh, admiring the monstrous k delicacies of an ass; and having

1 Alluding to die fatal strife' between Eteocles and his brother Polynices. See book xii. of the Thebais of Statius.

k They were monstrous , because they were not the natural food of

an ass.

called many of their fellow-servants, they pointed out to them the voracity of a sluggish ass, a thing horrible to relate. At length laughter so great and so unrestrained seized on all of them, that it also reached the ears of the master, who was passing that way. He, therefore, inquiring what good had occurred to make his servants laugh so excessively, and having learnt what the affair was, he, likewise, looking through the same chink, was extremely delighted. And afterwards, he also breaking out into laughter so unrestrained as to cause pain in his intestines, and having opened the door of the chamber, came nearer to me, and considered me more attentively. For I, beholding the countenance of Fortune in a certain respect smiling more propitiously upon me, continued eating tranquilly, not in the least disturbed ; the joy of those that were present affording me confidence ; till the master of the house being exhilarated by the novelty of the spectacle, ordered me to be led to the supper room ; or rather he brought me to it with his own hands ; and the table being furnished, he directed every kind of solid food to be placed before me, and such delicacies as had not been touched. But I, though I was well crammed, yet desiring to render myself more acceptable, and more commendable to him, ate as if I had been hungry of the food that was placed before me. For they, prompted by curiosity, thinking of every thing which an ass mostly abhors, offered it to me, for the purpose of exploring my mildness ; such as flesh seasoned with the juice of the herb masterwort, birds sprinkled over with pepper, and fish that had been pickled, in the meantime, the banquet resounded with excessive laughter.

At length, a certain buffoon who was present, said, u Give some wine to this guest/’ To which the master assenting, answered, “ Knave, you have not spoken absurdly : for it is very possible that our comrade will also willingly drink a cup of mead.” And he said,

“ Come hither, boy, wash well that golden cup, fill it with mead, and offer it to my parasite ; and, at the same

lime, admonish him that I have previously drank to him.” After this, a great expectation was excited among the guests. Nevertheless, I, not being at all disturbed, drank, at one draught, all that was contained in that most capacious cup, leisurely, and in a sufficiently pleasant manner, incurvating the extremity of my lip in the shape of a tongue. A clamour was raised, through all of them, with one according voice, drinking my health. Lastly; the master, being excessively joyful, and having called the servants that bought me, ordered that four times the sum which they paid for me should be given to them ; and he delivered me to a certain person who had been his slave, but was now manumitted, to whom he was very much attached, and who was very rich, and desired him to pay me every requisite attention. This man nourished me in a sufficiently humane and kind manner; and, that he might render himself more acceptable to his patron, most studiously furnished him with delight through my pleasantry. And, in the first place, indeed, he taught me to sit down at table, leaning on my elbow ; afterwards, to wrestle, and to dance, my fore feet being elevated ; and, which was especially admirable, to use signs instead of words ; so that I could indicate what I wished by raising, and what I did not wish by declining my head. He also taught me, when I was thirsty, to look at the cup-bearer, and to ask for drink by alternately closing my eyes. And to all these things I was very readily obedient; which, indeed, I should have done, though no one had shown me how to do them. But I was fearful, lest, if I should happen to perform them, after the manner of men, without a master, most would think it portended sinister events, and that I, as a monster and prodigy, should lose my head, and be given for fat provender to vultures.

And now my fame was spread abroad publicly, by which I rendered my master illustrious and famous, through my wonderful arts. This, said the people, is I the man who has an ass for his guest and associate; an ass that wrestles and dances, that jests, and understands

R

the language of men, and indicates what it means by nods. It is now, however, requisite that I should inform you, though I ought to have done it in the beginning, who that Thyasus was, or whence he originated ; for this was the name of my master. The country in which he was born was Corinth, which city ranks as the chief of all the province of Acliaia. And, as he had gradually obtained all the honours which his pedigree and dignity demanded, lie had been appointed to the office of a quinquennial magistrate. In order, therefore, that he might act conformably to the splendour of that office, he had promised that he would exhibit, during the space of three days, the spectacle of prize-fighting; but he had still more amply extended his munificence. Lastly, he had then also come to Thessaly, through the desire of public glory, in order to procure from thence the most noble wild beasts and famous gladiators. And now, having bought and disposed of every thing according to his wish, he was preparing to return home. Despising, however, his own most splendid chariots, and undervaluing his beautiful coaches and waggons, which w7ere drawn along empty at the extremity of his train, some of them being covered and others open ; neglecting also the Thessalian horses and his other Gallic labouring beasts, by which a generous offspring bears testimony to the precious dignity of its origin; despising and neglecting all these, he rode most lovingly on me, who was decorated with golden trappings, dyed saddles, purple coverings, silver bridles, painted girths, and very sonorous little bells, and sometimes he spoke to me in the most courteous language. Among many other things also which he said, he professed to be in the highest degree delighted, that he possessed in me, at one and the same time, a companion and a carrier.

But wffien, having finished our journey, partly by land and partly by sea, wre came to Corinth, a great crowd of the citizens ran to meet us, not so much for the purpose of doing honour to Thyasus, as from a desire of seeing me. For so great a rumour had pervaded that city about

me, that Ϊ was the source of no small gain to my governor; who, when he perceived many longing with great desire to see my sports, he shut the door, and introduced each of them separately, having first received money from them, by which means he was accustomed daily to collect no small sums. In that assembly there was a certain matron, powerful and opulent, who, after the manner of the rest, having purchased a sight of me, and from thenceforth was delighted with my multiform pastimes, fell, at length, gradually, through her continual admiration, into a wonderful desire of enjoying me, and, not applying any remedy to her insane lust, ardently waited for my embraces, like an asinine Pasiphae. At length she prevailed on my keeper, for a great sum of money, to let me lie with her for one night. But that knave, in order that he might derive advantage from me, being only satisfied with his own gain, assented.

And now, the laborious and wakeful night being finished, the woman withdrew from my embraces, avoiding the conscious testimony of the light, and making a contract with my keeper for some future night, at the same price. Nor did he unwillingly accede to her voluptuous desires, partly induced by the very ample reward which he received from her, and partly through the opportunity afforded him of preparing a new spectacle for his lord ; to whom, without delay, he unfolded the whole scene of our lust. But he, having magnificently rewarded his manumitted servant, destined me to be shown in public. And, because that egregious wife of mine could not be [publicly connected with me], on account of her dignity, nor any other could be found, [for the same purpose,] a certain vile woman, who had been sentenced by the prefect to be devoured by wild beasts, was procured, for a great sum of money, to have connexion with me in the enclosure of the theatre, in the sight of ail the spectators. Of this woman I have heard the following history : she had a husband, [a young man,] whose father, undertaking a journey, ordered his wife.

TIIE METAMORPHOSIS, OR

who was the mother of that same young man, and whom he left oppressed with the burden of pregnancy, that if she brought forth an infant of the inferior sex, she should immediately cause that of which she was delivered to be slain. But she, during the absence of her husband, having brought forth a girl, and, being moved by the pious affection naturally inherent in a mother, revolted from the mandate of her husband, and delivered it to be nourished by one of her neighbours. Her husband also now having returned, she told him that she had been delivered of a daughter, and that she was destroyed. But as soon as the flower of age required a nuptial day should be appointed for the virgin, and as she could not give a dowry suitable to the parentage of her daughter, unknown to her husband, she did that which she could alone do, viz. she unfolded the secret to her son, which had hitherto been concealed in silence ; for she was very much afraid, lest he, by some accident, erring through the impulse of juvenile ardour, should ignorantly have connexion with his sister, who also was ignorant that he was her brother. But this young man, who was remarkably pious, and who religiously obeyed the mandates of his mother, and performed the duties due to his sister, delivered the arcana of his house to the custody of venerable Silence, exhibiting only by his countenance a vulgar benevolence towards his sister. And he undertook, in such a w7ay, to perform the necessary duty of consanguinity, that he received her into the protection of her own house, as if she had been some desolate neighbouring virgin, and deprived of the guardian care of her parents ; and soon after he placed her with a certain most dear associate of his, and most liberally bestowed on her a dowry from his own property. But these things being well disposed, and in the best manner, and with all sanctity, could not escape the deadly nod of Fortune, by whose impulse a cruel rivalship immediately directed its course to the house of the young man. And this same wife of his, who now was condemned to wild beasts for these very crimes, began

first to entertain a suspicion of the girl, as the rival of her bed, and a harlot; in the next place to detest her; and in the third place to contrive the most cruel snares for her destruction.

In the last place, she devised the following wicked stratagem : having stolen the ring of her husband, she went into the country, and from thence sent a servant, who was faithful indeed to her, but perfectly hostile to Fidelity herself, and told him to inform the girl that the young man was gone to her village, and desired her to come to him ; and added, that she was to go alone, with all possible celerity, and without any attendant. And, lest any doubt should happen to arise in her mind about the propriety of going, she delivered to him the ring which she had taken from her husband, which, being shown, would give credibility to his words. But she, complying with the mandate of her brother (for she alone knew that he was her brother), and having also inspected his seal, which was shown to her, strenuously hastened to go unattended, as she was desired to do. As soon, however, as, through the deception of extreme fraud, she fell into the snares which were prepared for her, then that egregious wife, being insanely excited by the stimulus of libidinous fury, in the first place, indeed, having stript her naked, whipt her even to the extremity of torment; and afterwards, though she explained the thing as it really was, and also exclaimed, that she in vain boiled over with indignation, through conceiving her to be a harlot, and frequently repeated the name of her brother, she slew her by thrusting a burning torch into her private parts, as if she had lied, and invented all that she had told her. Then the brother and her husband, being excited by the news of her cruel death, flew to her, and having mourned the fate of the girl with various lamentations, committed her to the grave. Nor could the young man endure with equanimity such a miserable death of his sister, by her by whom it was by no means equitable it should have been occasioned ; but, being most pro~

foundly grieved, and wholly possessed by the noxious fury of the most vehement bile, he began, from that time, to burn with a raging fever; so that for him also a remedy seemed to be necessary. But his wife, who some time ago had lost the name, together with the fidelity, of a wife, went to a certain physician, well known for his perfidy, who, being famous for his victories in many contests, could enumerate great trophies which his right hand had obtained *, and immediately promised him fifty sestertia"1, in order that he indeed might sell poison so efficacious as to destroy in a moment, but that she might buy the death of her husband. This being done, she and the physician pretended that the most excellent potion which they had brought, and which the more learned call sacred, was necessary for mitigating pains of the viscera, and carrying off the bile ; but, in its stead, they substituted a potion sacred to the health of Proserpine n. And now the physician extended to the sick man, with his own hand, the well-tempered cup, his own family and some of his friends and kindred being present. Bui that audacious woman, in order that she might destroy [the physician] the partner of her guilt, and, at the same time, be enriched by the money which she had promised, retaining the cup in the sight of all of them, said, “ O best of physicians, you shall not give this potion to my most dear husband, till you have drank a good part of it yourself. For how do I know whether a noxious poison may not be concealed in it? And this is a thing which should by no means offend you, who are a man so prudent and learned, that I, as a religious wife, being solicitous for the safety of my husband, perform a necessary duty of piety.” The physician, being suddenly agitated by the desperate

1 The battles or contests of this worthless physician were the envenomed potions by which he attacked the lives of men, nnd his victories were their deaths.

m i. e. Ten pounds, eight shillings, and four pence.

" t. e. An envenomed potion, which causes men to become the property of Proserpine.

audacity of the cruel woman, and totally deprived of all counsel, and of every opportunity of thinking, through the shortness of the time, drank largely of the potion, before he had raised any suspicion of his evil conscience by any trepidation or delay. And the young man, following his example, took the cup and drank what was offered to him.

The present business being thus transacted, the physician prepared to return home with the greatest celerity, in order that he might extinguish the deadly power of the poison which he had taken, by a salutiferous potion. But the barbarous woman, persisting in the same sacrilegious obstinacy as that which she had adopted from the first, would not suffer him to depart from her the breadth of a nail, till, as she said, the effect of the medicine was evidently proved, in consequence of the potion being distributed through the whole body. But being much, and for a long time, wearied by his prayers and earnest entreaties, she at length scarcely permitted him to depart. In the meantime, his most inward parts attracted the occult destruction which raged through all his viscera ; and, at last, he with great difficulty came to his own house, very ill, and now oppressed with a somnolent heaviness. Scarcely also being able to narrate every particular, he ordered his wife to demand, at least, the promised reward of a double death0. And thus that most illustrious physician, being destroyed by violence, gave up the ghost. Nor did that young man live any longer than the physician, but perished by a similar kind of death, amidst the fictitious and false tears of his wife. And he, being now buried, after a few daysp had intervened, during which funeral rites are performed to the dead, the wife of the physician came and demanded the money which was due for the double death. But the woman, always like herself,

° i. e. Of the sick man and the physician.

p i. e. Nine days, on the last of which a sacrifice was performed called Novendiale.

overpowering the real form of fidelity, and exhibiting only its image, mildly answered her, and promised every thing liberally and abundantly, and agreed to pay the stipulated sum, without delay ; only adding, that she wished she would give her a little of that potion, for the purpose of accomplishing the business she had begun. This the wife of the physician, inveigled by the many snares of the most wicked frauds, readily consented to do. And, that she might render herself more acceptable to the opulent woman, hastily returned home, and immediately afterwards delivered to her the whole box of poison. Having, therefore, now obtained the grand instrument of wickedness, she extended far and wide her sanguinary hands.

She had a little daughter by the husband whom she had lately killed ; and she was very indignant that the laws would necessarily give to this little one the inheritance of her father. Greedily desiring also the whole patrimony of her daughter, she waited only for an opportunity of destroying her. Being certain, therefore, that mothers received the immature inheritances of their deceased children, she showed herself to be such a parent, as she had proved herself to be a wife. And pretending to prepare a dinner, in consequence of a circumstance that had occurred, she attacked, with the same poison, both the wife of the physician and her own daughter. But that deadly venom immediately consumed the slender life and delicate and tender viscera of the little girl. The wife of the physician, however, while the tempest of the detestable potion wandered through her lungs with its noxious windings, first suspecting what the thing was, and afterwards, through the oppression of her breath, being now more certain [that her suspicion was right], went to the house of the prefect of the province, and, with a great clamour, imploring his assistance, a tumult of the people also being excited, in consequence of the disclosure she was about to make of such barbarous wickedness, she occasioned both the house and the ears

of the prefect to be immediately opened. And now, having accurately narrated all the atrocities of this most cruel woman, from the beginning, being suddenly seized with a dark vertigo of the mind, she compressed her lips, which were still half open, and having for a long time produced a crashing noise by the gnashing of her teeth, she fell lifeless before the feet of the prefect. But he, though he was a man accustomed to things of this kind, would not suffer the multiform wickedness of this execrable sorceress to flag by a languid delay ; but immediately ordered the chambermaids of the woman to be brought before him, and, by the force of torments, extorted from them the truth. He also sentenced her to a punishment which was indeed less than she deserved, viz. that she should be cast to wild beasts, because he could not find any other torment so adapted to the enormity of her guilt.

With such a woman as this it was determined that I should be publicly connected, as if I had been lawfully married to her. And, being very much vexed, I waited with great anxiety for the day of the spectacle ; being frequently willing to destroy myself with my own hand, rather than be defiled by coming into contact with such an abandoned woman, or be defamed by the disgrace of a public spectacle. But, as I was deprived of human hands, and was also destitute of fingers, I could by no means draw a sword with my round and imperfect hoof. However, I consoled myself, in my extreme misery, with a slender hope ; because, the spring now beginning to appear, would paint every thing with florid buds, and would now clothe the meadows with a purple splendour ; and roses would then burst forth, exhaling the sweetest odours, which would restore me to my former Lucius [/. e. to my pristine form]. Behold, the day destined to the spectacle was present, and I was led into the arena, the people following me with triumphant applause. And while the beginning of the spectacle was dedicated to the sportive dances of the players, I, in the meantime, being

placed before the gate, gladly fed on the very nourishing grass which germinated in the entrance ; now and then, also, refreshing my inquisitive eyes with the most agreeable prospect of the spectacle, because the gate was open. For boys and virgins, flourishing in florid youth, conspicuous for their beauty, in splendid garments, acting as they walked, dancing the Greek Pyrrhic dance q, and disposed in ranks, performed graceful circuits; now turning round in an orb like a wheel, now connected by their hands in an oblique order, and afterwards, being disposed into the form of a wedge with a square aperture, and then becoming separated into two troops. But, after the clangour of the terminating trumpet had dissolved the manifold circuits of the reciprocal movements, the hangings being removed, and the curtains folded, a representation of [the fable of] Paris was prepared, as follows :

There was a wooden mountain made in imitation of that celebrated mountain, which Homer calls Ida. This was of a lofty structure, was planted with grass-plats and living trees, and from its highest top emitted river water, from a fountain flowing through the contrivance of the artist. A few goats cropped the grass, and a certain young man, excellently clothed with Barbaric1- vestments dependent from his shoulders, and having his head covered with a golden tiara, after the manner of the Phrygian shepherd, Paris, pretended to be skilled in the pastoral discipline. A beautiful boy also was present, naked, except that a robe, adapted to a child, covered his left shoulder. This boy was every way conspicuous for his yellow hair, among which little golden wings, associated

ί The Pyrrhic dance was a dance of armed men, invented by one Pyrrhus, a Cretensian, according to Pliny; or by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, who, as Aristotle says, was the first that danced the Pyrrhic dance at the funeral of Patroclus; or, lastly, it was invented by a certain Laced oemonian, Pyrrichus, according to Aristoxenus, Strabo, and Solinus.

r i. e. Phrygian embroidered vestments. For the Phrygians were the first that adorned their garments with embroidery.

by a similar alliance, were prominent ; and the caducens and the wand indicated that the boy was Mercury. He, running with a dancing motion, and carrying in his right hand an apple gilt with spangles, extended it to him who represented Paris, and announced to him by signs the mandate of Jupiter. Immediately after, elegantly receding, he departed from the view. A girl succeeded, of a beautiful face, and resembling the Goddess Juno : for her head was begirt with a white diadem, and she also carried a sceptre. Another virgin entered, whom you might believe to be Minerva, having her head covered with a fulgid helmet, and the helmet itself was covered with an olivecoloured crown. She also lifted up a shield [i. e. the aegis], and shook a spear, and appeared to be such as she is when she fights. After these, another female entered, of surpassing beauty, representing Venus by the decoration of her divine colour, and such as Venus was when she was a virgin, exhibiting perfect beauty in a body naked and uncovered, except that her private parts were inumbrated by a thin silken garment, the fringe of which the busy wind, in a sufficiently amorous manner, now wantonly blew back, that, being removed, the flower of her age might be manifest, and now luxuriantly blew upon, that, by close adherence, the pleasure which the members [i. e. the private parts] were formed to give might be delineated. But the colour itself of the Goddess was various to the view. For her body was white, because she descended from heaven, and her silken garment was azure, because she emerged from the sea.

And now the several virgins who represented Goddesses were surrounded by their attendants : Juno indeed by Castor and Pollux, whose heads were covered with round helmets, conspicuous by the stars which glittered on their summits. But these representatives of the twin brothers were young actors. This virgin [Juno], proceeding with a tranquil and unaffected gesticulation, conformably to the various modulations of the wantonlysounding flute, promised the shepherd, by modest signs.

that she would bestow on him the empire of all Asia, if he adjudged to her the palm of beauty. But two boys, who represented Terror and Fear, the armour-bearing attendants of the warlike Goddess, dancing with drawn swords, surrounded that virgin who, by the arms with which she was adorned, represented Minerva. And a piper who was behind her played a Dorian \i. e. a warlike] tune, and, mingling sharp tinkling with flat sounds, excited the vigour of brisk dancing, after the manner of a trumpet. This girl, by tossing her head, looking with threatening eyes, and walking with a quick and intorted step, signified to Paris by her cheerful gesticulation, that, if he gave to her the victory of beauty, he should become, through her assistance, brave and illustrious by the tro- Ph ies of war. Then Venus stood gracefully, in the very middle of the scene, sweetly smiling, accompanied by the great applause of the spectators, and surrounded by a crowd of rejoicing boys. You would say, that those smooth and fair boys were Cupids, and real Cupids, who had just then descended from heaven, or emerged from the sea. For they admirably resembled them, by their small wings, their little arrows, and the rest of their external habiliments. They also bore splendid torches before their mistress, as if she had been going to some nuptial banquet. Unmarried girls likewdse, a graceful progeny, were there assembled. Here the most pleasing Graces, there the most beautiful Hours, who, rendering their Goddess propitious, by throwing flowers made into garlands or loose, formed a most elegant choir, and soothed the Goddess of pleasures with the hair of the spring. Now pipes with many perforations sweetly send forth Lydian modulations; and, while they delightfully allure the minds of the spectators, Venus, in a far more delectable manner, began placidly to move herself, and to proceed with a gentle and slow step, the spine of her back at the same time lightly undulating, and her head gradually moving; and thus she conformed her delicate gestures to the soft sound of the pipes. At one time

also she gently winked, at another sharply threatened with her eyes, and sometimes danced with them alone.

This girl, as soon as she came into the presence of the judge [?’. e. of the scenic Paris], seemed to promise by the motion of her arms, that she would give to Paris a wife of surpassing beauty [i. e. Helen], and like herself, if he would prefer her to the other Goddesses. Then the Phrygian young man delivered with a willing mind to the girl the golden apple which he held in his hands, as an indication that she had conquered. Why, therefore, do you wonder, O most vile heads8, or rather forensic cattle, or still more properly gowmed vultures, if all judges now sell their decisions for money? For even in the most remote periods of antiquity, favour could corrupt the judgment which was agitated between Gods and men, and a young man who was a rustic and a shepherd, being elected a judge by the decision of the great Jupiter, sold the first judicial decision for the lucre of lust, accompanied likewise by the destruction of all his race. Thus also, by Hercules, another judgment posterior to this was given between the illustrious leaders of the Greeks ; either when Palamedes, who excelled in erudition and science, was condemned by false accusations as a traitor ; or when the mendicant Ulysses was preferred to the mighty Ajax, who was pre-eminent in military prowess. And of what kind was that judgment which was the decision of the law-giving Athenians, who were a wise people, and the masters of all science? Was not that divinely prudent old man [Socrates], whom the Delphic God preferred for his wisdom to all mortals, circumvented by the fraud and envy of a most iniquitous faction, as if he had been a corrupter of youth, though he restrained them as with a bridle; was not he destroyed by the noxious juice of a pestilent herb, leaving to his fellow-citizens the stain of perpetual infamy? Since, even now, the most excellent philosophers choose his most holy sect before all others, and swear in

s An apostrophe to lawyers and forensic orators.

his name, from the greatest and most earnest desire of beatitude.

Lest, however, some one should blame this impetus of my indignation, thus thinking with himself, Behold now, shall we suffer an ass to philosophize to us? I shall a train return to the narration from whence I digressed. After that judgment of Paris was finished, Juno indeed, and Minerva, departed from the theatre sad and enraged, and showed by their gestures the indignation which they felt from being rejected; but Venus, full of joy and hilarity, exhibited her gladness by dancing with all her choir. Then wine, mixed with crocus, burst forth on high from the summit of the mountain, through a certain latent tube, and flowing in scattered streams, sprinkled as it fell, with an odoriferous shower, the goats that fed round it, till being dyed into a better form, they changed their proper whiteness into a saffron colour. And now, the whole theatre exhaling a sweet odour, a gulf of the earth absorbed that wrnoden mountain. When, behold, a certain soldier ran through the middle of the street, in order to bring, to the people now demanding it, that woman from the public prison, who, as I have said, was condemned to wild beasts, on account of her multiform wickedness, and destined to be my illustrious bride. What was intended also to be our genial bed, could be most distinctly seen. For it was transparent, being made from the Indian tortoise, was tumid with a plumous heap, and florid with a silken coverlet. But I, besides the shame of being publicly connected, and besides the contagion of a wicked and polluted woman, was also in the highest degree tormented with the fear of death, thus thinking with myself : that, in the venereal embrace, while we were adhering to each other, whatever wild beast should be sent in to the destruction of the woman, it would not be so prudent and sagacious, or so tutored by art, or so frugal and temperate, as to lacerate the woman who was placed by my side, and spare me, as one uncondemned and innoxious.

Being therefore solicitous, not for my modesty, but for my life, while liberty was granted to me of indulging my own thoughts, my master being intent on aptly preparing the bed, and all his servants being partly occupied in hunting, and partly attentive to the voluptuous spectacle ; no one believing that so mild an ass required to be so attentively guarded ; Ϊ gradually withdrew myself by an occult flight. And when I arrived at the next gate, I hurried away with most rapid steps. When also, with great celerity, I had travelled over six thousand entire paces, I arrived at Cenchrese ; which city, indeed, is said to be the most noble colony of the Corinthians. But it is contiguous to the iEgean and Saronic sea, where also there is a port, which is a most safe receptacle for ships, and is very populous. Avoiding, therefore, the crowd, and choosing the solitary shore, near to the eructation of the waves, there, stretched on a most soft bed of sand, I refreshed my weary body. For the chariot of the sun had declined to the last boundary of day ; and sweet sleep overpowered me, when I gave myself to the evening repose.

METAMORPHOSIS OF APULE1US.

BOOK THE ELEVENTH.

Being awakened with a sudden terror about the first watch of the night, I beheld the full orb of the moon shining with excessive brightness, and just then emerging from the waves of the sea. Availing myself, therefore, of the silent secrets of opaque Night, as I was also well assured that the primary Goddess possessed a transcendent majesty, and that human affairs were entirely governed by her providence ; and that not only cattle and wild beasts, but likewise things inanimate, were invigorated by the divine power of her light and of her deity ; that the bodies likewise which are in the earth, in the heavens, and in the sea, are at one time increased as she increases, and at another time, conformably to her decrements, are diminished11; being well assured of this, I determined to implore the august image of the Goddess then present, Fate being now satiated with my calamities so many and so great, and administering to me the hope of safety, though late.

a That the moon possesses this power was acknowledged by all antiquity, and is confirmed by daily experience. Hence, a certain Greek poet cited by Joan. Baptist. Camotius in bis Commentary in Theophrast. Metaphys. says of the moon,

αυξίΐς αυξομεν», μιννθεισ-ct 5ε 7ταντα. χα,λετττεις. i. e. “ Increasing you increase, but diminishing you injure all things.”

Having, therefore, immediately shaken off sluggish sleep, Prose promptly and cheerfully, and directly applied myself to purification, by washing with marine water; and having merged my head seven times in the waves, because, according to the divine Pythagoras, that number is especially adapted to religious purposes15, I joyfully and readily thus supplicated with a weeping countenance the transcendently powerful Goddess: “ Queen of heaven, whether thou art pure and nourishing Ceres, the original parent of fruits, who, rejoicing for the discovery of thy daughter, didst banish the savage nutriment of the ancient acorn, and exhibiting a milder aliment, dost now dwell in the Eleusinian land ; or whether thou art celestial Venus, who, in the first origin of things, didst associate the different sexes, through the intervention of mutual love, and having propagated an eternal progeny from the human race, art now worshipped in Paphos which is washed by the surrounding sea ; or whether thou art the sister of PhcEbus, who by relieving the pangs of parturient women by lenient remedies, hast delivered into light such a numerous multitude of men, and art now venerated in the illustrious temple of Ephesus ; or whether thou art Proserpine, terrific by nocturnal howlings, restraining with a triform face the assaults of spectres, closing the recesses of the earth, wandering through various groves, and propitiated by different modes of worship ; with that female light of thine, illuminating every city, and with moist fires nourishing the joyful seeds of plants, and through the revolutions of the sun dispensing uncertain light : by whatever name, by whatever rites, and under whatever formc it is lawful to invoke thee; graciously succour me

b For an account of the power and properties of the number seven, according to the Pythagoreans, see my Theoretic Arithmetic.

c The Moon, being the last of the celestial divinities, receives in herself, according to the Orphic theology, processions from all the orders ot Gods superior to, and also contains in herself causally all the divinities inferior to her. Hence, from what is asserted here, and farther on, this Goddess is celebrated as containing all the female deities, just as Osiris

S

in this my extreme calamity, support my fallen fortune, and grant me rest and peace, after the endurance of so

contains all those of a male characteristic. In short, according to this theology, each of the Gods is in all, and all are in each, being ineffably united to each other and the highest God, because, each being a superessential unity, their conjunction with each other is a union ol unities. And hence it is by no means wonderful that each is celebrated as all. But another and a still more appropriate cause may be assigned of the Moon being called by the appellations of so many female deities, which is this, that, according to the Orphic theology, each of the planets is fixed in a luminous etherial sphere called an ολοτης, or wholeness*, because it is a part with a total subsistence, and is analogous to the sphere of the fixed stars. In consequence of this analogy, each of these planetary spheres contains a multitude of Gods, who are the satellites of the leading divinity of the sphere, and subsist conformably to his characteristics. This doctrine, which, as I have elsewhere observed, is one of the grand keys to the mythology and theology of the ancients, is not clearly delivered by any other ancient writer than Proclus, and has not, I believe, been noticed by any other modern author than myself. But the following are the passages in which this theory is unfolded by Proclus, in his admirable commentaries on the Timseus of Plato. “ In each of the celestial spheres, the whole sphere has the relation of a monad, but the cosmocrators [or planets], are the leaders of the multitude in each. For in each a number analogous to the choir of the fixed stars, subsists with appropriate circulations.” (See vol. ii. book iv. p. 270, of my translation of that work). And in another part of the same book (p. 280), “ There are other divine animals following the circulations of the planets, the leaders of which are the seven planets ; all which Plato comprehends in what is here said. For these also revolve and have a wandering of such a kind as that which he a little before mentioned of the seven planets. For they revolve in conjunction with and make their apocatastases together with their principals, just as the fixed stars are governed by the whole circulation [of the inerratic sphere].” And still more fully in p. 281 ; “ Each of the planets is a whole world, comprehending in itself many divine genera invisible to us. Of all these, however, the visible star has the government. And in this the fixed stars differ from those in the planetary spheres, that the former have one monad [viz. the inerratic sphere], which is the wholeness of them ; but that in each of the latter there are invisible stars, which revolve together with their spheres ; so that in each there is both the wholeness, and a leader,

Each of these spheres is called a wholeness , because it contains a multitude of partial animals co-ordinate with it.

many cruel misfortunes. Let there have been enough of labours, let there have been enough of dangers. Remove

which is allotted an exempt transcendency. For the planets being secondary to the fixed stars, require a twofold prefecture, the one more total, but the other more partial. But that in each of these there is a multitude co-ordinate with each, you may infer from the extremes. For if the inerratic sphere has a multitude co-ordinate with itself, and earth is the wholeness of terrestrial, in the same manner as the inerratic sphere is of celestial animals, it is necessary that each intermediate wholeness should entirely possess certain partial animals co-ordinate with itself : through which, also, they are said to be wholenesses. The intermediate natures, however, are concealed from our sense, the extremes being manifest; one of them through its transcendently luminous essence, and the other through its alliance to us. If, likewise, partial souls [such as ours], are disseminated about them, some about the sun, others about the moon, and others about each of the rest, and prior to souls, daemons give completion to the herds of which they are the leaders, it is evidently well said, that each of the spheres is a world ; theologists also teaching us these things when they say that there are Gods in each prior to daemons, some of which are under the government of others. Thus, for instance, they assert concerning our mistress the Moon, that the Goddess Hecate is contained in her, and also Diana. Thus, too, in speaking of the sovereign Sun, and the Gods that are there, they celebrate Bacchus as being there,

The Sun’s assessor, who with watchful eye surveys

The sacred pole.

They likewise celebrate the Jupiter who is there, Osiris, the solar Pan, and other's of which the hooks of theologists and theurgists are full ; from all which it is evident, that each of the planets is truly said to be the leader of many Gods, who give completion to its peculiar circulation.”

From this extraordinary passage, (as I have observed in a note on it in my Proclus, p. 282), we may perceive at one view why the Sun in the Orphic hymns is called Jupiter, why Apollo is called Pan, and Bacchus the Sun ; why the Moon seems to be the same with Rhea, Ceres, Proserpine, Juno, Venus, &c. and in short, why any one divinity is celebrated with the names and epithets of so many of the rest. For from this sublime theory it follows that every sphere contains a Jupiter, Neptune, Vulcan, Vesta, Minerva, Mars, Ceres, Juno, Diana, Mercury, Venus, Apollo, and in short every deity, each sphere at the same time conferring on these Gods the peculiar characteristic of its nature ; so that, for instance, in the Sun they all possess a solar property, in the Moon a lunar one, and so of the rest. From this theory, too, we may

from me the dire form of a quadruped, restore me to the sight of my kindred, restore me to my Lucius \i. e. to myself]. And if any offended deity oppresses me with inexorable cruelty, may it at least be lawful for me to die, if it is not lawful for me to live [in my proper shape].”

Having after this manner poured forth prayers, accompanied by miserable lamentations, sleep surrounding me, again oppressed my marcid mind, in the same bed [/. e. on the soft sand]. And scarcely had I closed my eyes, when behold, [I saw in a dream] a divine form emerging from the middle of the sea, and raising a countenance venerable even to the Gods themselves. Afterwards, the whole of the most splendid image seemed to stand before me, having gradually shaken off the sea. But I will also

perceive the truth of that divine saying of the ancients, that all things are full of Gods ; for more particular orders proceed from such as are more general, the mundane from the super-mundane, and the sublunary from the celestial ; while earth becomes the general receptacle of the illuminations of all the Gods. α Hence,’' as Proclus shortly after observes, “ there is a terrestrial Ceres, Vesta, and Isis, as likewise a terrestrial Jupiter and a terrestrial Hermes, established about the one divinity of the earth, just as a multitude of celestial Gods proceeds about the one divinity of the heavens. For there are progressions of all the celestial Gods into the Earth : and Earth contains all things, in an earthly manner, which Heaven comprehends celestially. Hence, we speak of a terrestrial Bacchus and a terrestrial Apollo, who bestows the all-various streams of water with which the earth abounds, and openings prophetic of futurity.” And if to all this we only add, that all the other mundane Gods subsist in the twelve above-mentioned, and in short, all the mundane in the super-mundane Gods, and that the first triad of these is demiurgic or fabricative, viz. Jupiter, Neptune, Vulcan ; the second, Vesta, Minerva, Mars, defensive ; the third, Ceres, Juno, Diana, vivific ; and the fourth, Mercury, Venus, Apollo, elevating and harmonic; I say, if we unite this with the preceding theory, there is nothing in the ancient theology that will not appear admirably sublime and beautifully connected, accurate in all its parts, scientific and divine.

The Delphin editor, having no conception of this theory, and being unable to assign the reason why the Moon is here said to be Deorum Dearumque facies uniformis, thinks with Elmeuhorstius, that the word Deorum should be obliterated.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULETUS. — BOOK XI. 261

endeavour to explain to you its admirable form, if the poverty of human language will but afford me the power of an appropriate narration ; or, if the divinity itself of the most luminous form will supply me with a liberal abundance of fluent diction. In the first place, then, her most copious and long hairs, being gradually intorted, and promiscuously scattered on her divine neck, were softly defluous. A multiform crown, consisting of various flowers, bound the sublime summit of her head. And in the middle of the crown, just on her forehead, there was a smooth orb resembling a mirror, or rather a white refulgent light, which indicated that she was the moon. Vipers rising up after the manner of furrows, environed the crown on the right hand and on the left, and Cerealian ears of corn were also extended from above. Her garment was of many colours, and woven from the finest flax, and was at one time lucid with a white splendour, at another yellow from the flower of crocus, and at another flaming with a rosy redness. But that which most excessively dazzled my sight, was a very black robe, fulgid with a dark splendour, and which, spreading round and passing under her right side, and ascending to her left shoulder, there rose protuberant like the centre of a shield, the dependent part of the robe falling in many folds, and having small knots of fringe, gracefully flowing in its extremities. Glittering stars were dispersed through the embroidered border of the robe, and through the whole of its surface : and the full moon, shining in the middle of the stars, breathed forth flaming fires. Nevertheless, a crown, wholly consisting of flowers and fruits of every kind, adhered with indivisible connexion to the border of that conspicuous robe, in all its undulating motions.

What she carried in her hands also consisted of things of a very different nature. For her right hand, indeed, bore a brazen rattle, through the narrow lamina of which J)ent like a belt, certain rods passing, produced a sharp

triple sound, through the vibrating motion of her arm*. An oblong vessel, in the shape of a boat, depended from

d This rattle (in the original crepitaculum ) of Isis, is the same with the celebrated sistrum of that Goddess, as is evident from what is asserted of the latter by Martial, Propertius, and Plutarch ; and was ol this form —

The following is a translation of what Plutarch says concerning this sistrum in his treatise of Isis and Osiris, and is remarkably interesting both to the antiquarian and philosopher : “ The sistrum likewise indicates that it is necessary that beings should be agitated, and never cease to rest from their local motion, but should be excited and shaken, when they become drowsy and marcid. For they say that Typhon is deterred and repelled by the sistra; manifesting by this, that as corruption binds and stops [the course of things], so generation again resolves nature, and excites it through motion. But as the upper part of the sistrum is convex, so the concavity of it comprehends the four things that are agitated. For the generable and corruptible portion of the world is comprehended indeed by the lunar sphere ; but all things are moved and changed in this sphere, through the four elements of fire and earth, water and air. And on the summit of the concavity of the sistrum they carved a cat having a human face ; and on the under part, below the rattling rods, they placed on one side the face of Isis, and on the other that of Nephthys, obscurely signifying by these faces generation and death [or corruption] : for these are the mutations and motions of the elements. But by the cat they indicated the inoon, on account of the

her left hand, on the handle of which, in that part in which it was conspicuous, an asp raised its erect head and largely swelling neck. And shoes woven from the leaves of the victorious palm tree covered her immortal feet. Such, and so great a Goddess, breathing the fragrant odour of the shoots of Arabia the happy, deigned with a divine voice thus to address me : “ Behold, Lucius, Ϊ, moved by thy prayers, am present with thee ; I, who am Nature e, the parent of things, the queen of all the

diversity of colours, operation by night, and fecundity of this animal. For it is said, that she brings forth one, afterwards two, three, four, and five kittens, and so adds till she has brought forth seven; so that she brings forth twenty-eight in all, which is the number of the illuminations of the moon. This, therefore, is perhaps more mythologically asserted. The pupils, however, in the eyes of the cat, are seen to become full and to be dilated when the moon is full, and to be diminished and deprived of light during the decrease of this star.’’

In this extract, Baxter, in his translation, makes the rods of the sistrum to be four. For be translates νπο τα σ-είο^ενα, “ below the four jingling things,” which I have translated, below the rattling rods. The sistrum, however, according to all the representations of it that are extant, contained but three rods. Baxter was doubtless led thus to translate τα σ-είο/αενα, because Plutarch had observed a little before that u the concavity of the sistrum comprehends the four things that are agitated f i. e. the four elements. But as there is no sphere of fire, as there is of each of the other elements ; for sublunary fire is an efflux of the celestial fire, and subsists in the cavities of the other elements ; hence, the three rods indicate the three elements air, water, and earth, and the concavity of the arch of the sistrum will represent the summit of the air, which imitates the purity of the vivific and unburning fire of the heavens. For true fire is in the heavens ; but of sublunary fire the purest is ether, and the most gross is in the interior parts of the earth. See book iv. of my translation of Proclus, on the Timaeus of Plato.

e Nature, according to the Orphic theology, principally flourishes by participation in the Moon, which is therefore called αατοτττον της ψνσ-εως αγα.\[ΛΛ, the self-conspicuous image of nature. But the first subsistence of Nature is in Rhea, who is the vivific centre of the intellectual order of Gods, and proceeds from thence through the Moon to the sublunary region. Hence, the reason is obvious why the Moon is represented by Apuleius as calling herself Nature. See vol. i. of my translation of Proclus on the Timaeus, near the beginning, for a more copious account of Nature.

elements, the primordial progeny of ages, the supreme of Divinities, the sovereign of the spirits of the dead, the first of the celestials, and the uniform resemblance of Gods and Goddesses. I, who rule by my nod the luminous summits of the heavens, the salubrious breezes of the sea, and the deplorable silences of the realms beneath : and whose one divinity the whole orb of the earth venerates under a manifold form, by different rites, and a variety of appellations. Hence, the primogenial Phrygians call me Pessinuntica, the mother of the Gods ; the Attic Aborigines, Cecropian Minerva ; the floating Cyprians, Paphian Venus ; the arrow-bearing Cretans, Diana Dictynnaf; the three-tongued Sicilians g, Stygian Proserpine ; and the Eleusinians, the ancient Goddess Ceres. Some also call me Juno, others Bellona, others Hecate, and others TUiamnusia. And those who are illuminated by the incipient rays of that divinity the Sun, when he rises, viz. the Ethiopians, the Arii, and the Egyptians skilled in ancient learning, worshipping me by ceremonies perfectly appropriate, call me by my true name, queen Isis. Behold then, I, commiserating thy calamities, am present ; I am present, favouring and propitious. Dismiss now tears and lamentations, and expel sorrow. Now, through my providence, the salutary day will shine upon thee. Listen, therefore, attentively to these my mandates. The religion which is eternal has consecrated to me the day which will be born from this night; on which day my priests offer to me the first fruits of navigation, dedicating to me a new ship, when now the winter tempests are mitigated, and the stormy waves of the deep are appeased, and the sea itself has now become navigable. That sacred ceremony you ought to expect, with a mind neither solicitous nor profane.

“ For the priest, being admonished by me, shall bear a

f For the invention of nets is ascribed to Diana, which in Greek are called δΊκτυνα, dictyna.

g tor they first spoke in the Sicilian, afterwards in the Grecian, and at last in the Latin tongue.

rosy crown in his right hand, adhering to the rattle, in the very procinct of the pomp. Without delay, therefore, cheerfully follow the procession when the crowd is dispersed, confiding in my benevolence. When also you approach the priest, gently pluck the roses, as if you intended to kiss his hand, and immediately divest yourself of the hide of that worst of beasts, and which for some time since has been to me detestable. Nor should you fear any thing pertaining to my concerns as difficult. For in this very same moment of time in which I come to you, being there also present11, I order my priest in a dream to do those things which are to be done hereafter. By my command, the thick crowd of people shall afford you room to pass through them. Nor, amidst the joyful ceremonies, and festive spectacles, shall any one abhor that deformed figure which you bear ; or malignantly accuse you, by putting a sinister construction on the sudden change of your form. Only remember, and always retain it deposited in the penetralia of your mind, that the remaining course of your life must be dedicated to me, even to the boundaries of your last breath. Nor is it unjust that you should owe your whole life to that Goddess, by wdiose assistance you will return to the human form. But you will live happy, you will live glorious, under my protection : and when, having passed through the allotted space of your life, you descend to the realms beneath, there also in the subterranean hemisphere, you, dwelling in the Elysian fields1, shall fre-

h For a divine nature is at one and the same time present every where.

’ “ Geographers (says Olympiodorus in MSS. Schol. in Gorgiam Platonis) assert, that the islands of the blessed are about the ocean, and that souls depart thither that have lived well. This, however, is absurd, for souls would thus live a stormy life. What then shall we say ? The solution is this : Philosophers assimilate the life of men to the sea, because it is turbulent, prolific, bitter, and laborious. But as islands are raised above the sea, they call that polity which transcends the present life, the islands of the blessed ; and these are the same with the Elysian

quently adore me whom you now see, and shall there behold me shining amidst the darkness of Acheron, reigning in the Stygian penetralia, and being propitious to you. Moreover, if you shall be found to deserve the protection of my divinity by sedulous obedience, religious services, and inviolable chastity, you shall know that it is possible for me alone to extend your life beyond the limits appointed to it by your fate.”

The venerable oracle being thus finished, the invincible Goddess receded into herself. And, without delay, I, being liberated from sleep, immediately arose, seized with fear and joy, and in an excessive perspiration, and in the highest degree admiring so manifest an appearance of the powerful Goddess, having sprinkled myself with marine dew [z. e. with the water of the sea], and intent on her great commands, I revolved in my mind the order of her mandates. Shortly after, too, the golden Sun arose, and put to flight the darkness of black Night. When, behold, a crowd of people filled all the streets with a religious and perfectly triumphant procession. All things likewise, independent of my peculiar joy, seemed to me to exult with such great hilarity, that I might have thought that cattle of every kind, every house, and even the day itself, rejoiced with a serene countenance ; for a bright and placid day suddenly succeeded to the frost of the preceding day ; so that the tuneful birds also sang sweetly, allured by the tepid heat of the spring, and with bland warbling soothed the mother of the stars, the parent of ages, and the mistress of the whole world. The very trees likewise, both those which were prolific with fruit, and those which were barren, and only afforded a shade, being relaxed by the southern breezes, and delighted with the germination of their leaves, produced through the

fields. On this account also, Hercules accomplished his last labour in the Hesperian regions, signifying by this, that having vanquished a dark and terrestrial life, he afterwards lived in day, that is, in truth and light.”

gentle motion of the branches, sweetly whistling sounds. And the sea, the loud crashing noise of its storms being appeased, and the turbid swelling of its waves having subsided, softly washed the shore. But the heavens, the cloudy darkness being dispersed, were bright with the clear and serene splendour of their own proper light. Behold, then, the preludes of the great pomp gradually proceeded, beautifully adorned, conformably to the votive diligence of every one concerned in the procession. This man, being girded with a belt, represented a soldier ; that, being clothed with a short cloak, and carrying cimeters and javelins, was adorned like a hunter. Another, having golden socks on his feet, being clothed with a silken garment and precious female ornaments, and with false hair on his head, assumed the appearance of a woman by his gliding step. But another was remarkable by his boots, his shield, his helmet, and his sword, and you would have thought that he came from the school of the gladiators. Nor was there wanting one who represented a magistrate by the fasces and the purple vest; nor one who feigned himself to be a philosopher, by his cloak, his staff, and his slippers, and his goatish beard ; nor those who with dissimilar reeds represented, the one a fowler with birdlime, and the other a fisherman with his hook. I also saw a tame bear, which was carried on a bench, in a matronal dress ; and an ape with a woven hat on its head, and clothed with a Phrygian garment of a saffron colour, carrying in its hand a golden cup, and representing the shepherd Ganymede ; and likewise an ass, to which wings were agglutinated, and which walked near to a certain old man ; so that you would have said that the one was Bellerophon, but the other Pegasus ; and, nevertheless, you would have laughed at both.

During these ridiculous amusements of the people, who wandered about every where, the peculiar pomp of the saviour Goddess advanced. Women, splendid in white garments, expressing their joy by various gestures, and adorned with vernal crowns, scattered from their

bosom flowers on the ground, through the path in which the sacred crowd walked. Others, with mirrors placed behind their backs, showed to the Goddess the obsequiousness of the crowd, as if it had come for the purpose of meeting herk. There were also others who, carrying ivory combs, imitated the adornment and combing of royal hairs by the motion of their arms, and the inflexion of their fingers. And there were likewise others, who sprinkled the streets with drops of genial balsam, and other ointments. Besides this, there was a great multitude of men and women, who propitiated the Goddess, the offspring of the celestial stars, by lamps, torches, wax-lights, and other kinds of artificial light. Afterwards, sweet symphonies resounded from the most delightful modulations of pipes and flutes. A pleasant choir of the most select youths, in splendid white garments, every way closed, followed them, frequently singing an elegant song, which an ingenious poet had composed through the favour of the Muses, and which explained the meaning of the procession. Pipers also, consecrated to the great Serapis, proceeded among those musicians, whose songs were antecedent to the greater vows, and sung the accustomed modulation pertaining to the God and his temple ; the oblique pipe being extended to the right ear1. And there were likewise precursors, who proclaimed that convenient room would be given for the sacred procession to pass. After this, there was an influx of a crowd of those who had been initiated in the sacred rites of the Goddess, consisting of men and women of every degree, and of every age, resplendent with the pure whiteness of linen garments. The women had their anointed hair infolded

k This took place as follows: women carrying mirrors behind their back proceeded first; in which mirrors the whole pomp of those that followed was perceived, their faces, by reflection, being turned towards the Goddess; so that those who in reality walked behind her, appeared, in those mirrors, to be coming to meet her.

1 viz. The pipe had a hole in the side and not at the top, to which the piper applied his mouth.

in a pellucid covering ; but the men had their hair perfectly shaven, and the crown of their head was exceedingly bright. These terrene stars also, of the great religion of the Goddess, produced a sharp sound from the brazen, silver, and likewise golden rattles, which they held in their hands. But those principal men that presided over the sacred rites, and who were clothed in a close-drawn garment of white linen, hanging down to the extremities of their feet, carried the most illustrious spoils m of the most powerful Gods. And of these, the first exhibited a lamp shining with a clear light, not resembling those lamps of ours which illuminate nocturnal banquets ; but it was a golden boat-cup, which emitted a larger flame from an aperture in the middle. The second was clothed in a similar manner, but carried in both his hands altars n [i. e. aids], to which the auxiliary providence of the supreme Goddess gave a proper name. The third proceeded raising a palm tree, the leaves of which were subtilely gilt, and also the Mercurial caduceus. The fourth exhibited the symbol of Equity, viz. a left hand, fashioned with the palm or inner part expanded ; which seems to be more adapted to Equity than the right hand, because it is naturally sluggish, ffnd is endued with no craft and no subtilty. The same person also carried a golden vessel, which was round like the female breast, and from which he poured forth milk. The fifth bore a golden corn-fan, full of golden branches, and another carried an amphora.

In the next place, without delay, the images of the Gods [carried by the priests of Isis] proceeded, not disdaining to walk with the feet of men ; this terrifically raising a canine head; but that being the messenger of the supernal Gods, and of those in the realms beneath, With an erect face, partly black, and partly of a golden

m i. e. The peculiar symbols of the Gods.

n These altars ( altaria ) were symbols of the aid afforded by Isis ; imd hence Apuleius says, they were called auxilia.

colour, bearing in his left hand a caduceus, and shaking in his right hand branches of the flourishing palm tree ; whose footsteps a cow, in an erect position, immediately followed. This cow was the prolific resemblance of the all-parent Goddess, and was carried on the shoulders of one of the blessed servants of this divinity, and who acted the part of a mimic as he walked. Another carried a cista, or chest, containing arcana, and perfectly concealing the mystic symbols of a magnificent religion. And another bore in his happy bosom the venerable effigies of the supreme divinity, which was not similar to any cattle, or bird, or wild beast, nor even to man ; but being venerable for the subtilty by which it was invented, and also for its novelty, was an ineffable indication of a more sublime religion, and which was to be concealed in the greatest silence. But this effigies was fashioned after the following manner : there was a small urn, formed of splendid gold, most artificially excavated, the bottom of which was very round, and which was externally engraven with the admirable images of the Egyptians. The orifice of this urn, which was not much elevated, was extended into a prominent rivulet0. But a handle adhered to the side opposite to the orifice, and receded from the urn by a spacious dilatation. On this handle an asp sat, raising its neck, which was scaly, wrinkled, and tumid, and embraced it with one fold of its body.

And, behold ! the benefits and the destiny which the most powerful Goddess had promised to me approached, and the priest was present, bringing with him my salvation, and adorned in a manner conformable to what the divinity had previously announced. In his right hand he carried the rattle of the Goddess, which was to me a crown ; and, by Hercules, a crown by a necessary consequence ; because, through the providence of

0 i. e. The nasus or spout of the urn, from which the liquor was poured.

the greatest Goddess, I vanquished the opposition of most cruel Fortune, after having encountered so many labours and so many dangers. Nevertheless, I did not run violently, though I was agitated by a sudden joy, fearing lest the tranquil order of religion should be disturbed by the hasty impetus of a quadruped ; but I hesitatingly passed through the crowd with a quiet and perfectly human step, and with a gradual obliquation of my body, the people giving way to me through the interference of the Goddess. But the priest, as I might very well perceive, recollecting the nocturnal oracle, and admiring the congruity of the office which he was commanded to perform, immediately stood still, and spontaneously extending his right hand, presented to my mouth a crown [of roses]. Then I, trembling, and my heart leaping with continual palpitation, devoured with great desire and a greedy mouth the shining crown in which delightful roses were interwoven. Nor did the celestial promise deceive me ; for immediately my deformed and brutal figure left me. And, in the first place indeed, my squalid hair fell off, and afterwards my thick skin became attenuated, my broad belly became narrow, and the soles of my feet passed into toes through my hoofs. My hands are no longer feet, but are extended to their erect offices. My long neck is shortened ; my face and my head become round ; my enormous ears are restored to their pristine parvitude ; my stony teeth return to those of a human size ; and the tail, which before especially tormented me, was no where to be found. The people admire, and the religious venerate so evident an indication of the power of the supreme divinity, and the magnificence and facility of my restoration, which resembled the nocturnal images in dreams. Extending likewise their hands to the heavens, they proclaimed with a clear and unanimous voice, such an illustrious benefit of the Goddess.

But I, being fixed in excessive astonishment, remained silent, my mind not being capable of receiving a joy so

sudden and so great, and I was dubious what I should first and principally say, whence I should assume the beginning of a new voice, and more happily commence my speech, as my tongue was now restored to me, and in what magnificent language ί should return thanks to so great a Goddess. The priest, however, who through the divine admonition knew all my calamities from the beginning, though he himself also was astonished by that remarkable miracle, having first signified his wish by a nod, ordered that a linen garment should be given to me, for the purpose of covering my nakedness. For, as soon as the ass had despoiled me of my abominable vesture p, I well fortified myself with a natural covering, as much as it was possible for one who is naked to do, by closely compressing my thighs, and carefully placing my hands over my private parts. Then one of the religious cohort, having promptly divested himself of his upper garment, most rapidly covered me with it ; which being done, the priest with a joyful countenance, and, by Hercules, astonished at my now human aspect, thus addressed me : “ O Lucius, you have at length arrived at the port of quiet and the altar of Pity, having endured many and various labours, and great tempests of Fortune, and been tossed about by mighty waves of calamity. Nor did the nobility of your race, nor your dignity, nor even the learning in which you abound, at all benefit you ; but falling into servile pleasures, through the lubricity of flourishing youth, you have brought back an inauspicious reward of your unhappy curiosity. The blindness of Fortune, however, while she has tormented you by the worst of dangers, has brought you, by her improvident malignity, to this religious beatitude q. Let her now go,

p In the original, Nam me cilm primum nefando tegmine despoliaverat asinus , which the Delphin editor interprets by, Statim enim atque exutus fueram turpi xelamine asinina: forma ; but whether properly or not, let the reader judge.

q In the original, habitudincm , instead of which I read, with some editions, beatitudinem.

and rage with the greatest fury, and let her search for some other subject for her cruelty; for hostile misfortune has no power over those whose service the majesty of our Goddess vindicates to itself. What advantage has iniquitous Fortune derived from robbers, from wild beasts, from servitude, from the various circuits of the roughest paths, and fiom the fear of death to which you were daily exposed? You are now, therefore, received into the protection of Fortune, but of the Fortune that can see, and who also illuminates the other Gods with the splendour of her light. Assume now a more joyful countenance, and more adapted to that white garment which you wear. Attend the pomp of your saviour Goddess with triumphant steps. Let the irreligious see, let them see and acknowledge their error1'. Behold Lucius, rejoicing in the providence of the great Isis, and freed from his pristine misenes, triumphs in his own fortune. Nevertheless, that you may be more safe and better protected, become one of this holy order, which you will hereafter rejoice that you embraced, and now dedicate yourself to the service of our religion, and voluntarily subject yourself to the yoke of this ministry ; for when you have once entered into the service of the Goddess, you will then in a greater degree enjoy the fruit of your liberty.” The excellent priest having thus prophesied, and breathing with difficulty8, was silent.

I aftei wards, walking, mingled with the religious crowd, accompanied the sacred pomp, being known and conspicuous to the whole city, and distinguished by the fingers and nods of the men. All the people spoke of me, and said, “ The august power of the omnipotent Goddess has restored this man to the human form. Happy, by Hercules, and thrice blessed is he ! who has deserved, by the innocence and probity of the former part

r i. e. The error which leads them to think either that there are no Gods, or, if there are, that they pay no attention to human affairs.

s In consequence of being divinely inspired.

T

of his life, such an illustrious protection from heaven ; so· that, after a manner being born again, he is immediately affianced to the ministry of sacred rites.” While these things were said, and during the tumult of the festive vows, proceeding gradually, we now approached to the shore of the sea, and came to that very place in which, on the preceding day, I, while I was yet an ass, had taken up my abode. The images [which the priests of Isis carried] being there properly disposed, the chief priest dedicated and consecrated to the Goddess a shipf, most artificially fabricated, on all sides variously adorned with the admirable pictures [z. e. hieroglyphics] of the Egyptians, and exquisitely purified with a burning torch, an egg, and sulphur, at the same time pouring forth from his holy mouth the most solemn prayers. The splendid sail of this blessed ship had a vow inscribed in it in large letters. These letters renewed the vow [which had been made on shore] for a prosperous event of the new navigation. Now the mast of that ship was raised, which was a round pine tree, tall and splendid, and conspicuous by its remarkable top. The stern also of the ship was decorated with a goose u with an intorted neck, and was refulgent through being covered with golden spangles, and the whole of the polished keel consisted of shining citron wood. Then all the people, as well the religious as the profane, emulously heaped together corn -fans full of aromatics and things pertaining to supplications, and poured into the sea a milky paste ; till the ship, being filled with copious gifts and auspicious prayers, was freed from the ropes that held the anchor, and was restored to the sea with a peculiar and serene wind. After, likewise, it had proceeded so far that the view of it was uncertain to us, each of those who carried the

1 Isis is an Egyptian deity, and the Egyptians, as we are informed by Porphyry, in his treatise De Antro Nymph., represented their divinities raised on a sailing vessel. See Martianus Capella, in lib. ii.; De Nuptiis, Philol., &c.

u Because the goose is sacred to Isis.

GOLDEX ASS, OF APULEIUS. BOOK XI. 275

sacred symbols again took what he had brought, and began cheerfully to return to the temple, in a decorous manner, and in the same order of procession in which they came from it.

But when we arrived at the temple itself, the chief priest and those who carried the divine images, and who, some time prior to this, had been initiated in the venerable mysteries, being received into the sanctuary of the Goddess, disposed in a proper order the breathing resemblances x.

These breathing resemblances were statues of the Gods, fabricated by telesta, or mystic operators , so as to become animated, illuminated by divinity, and capable of delivering oracles. These statues are alluded to by Proclus, on the Timajus and Cratylus of Plato, and by lamblichus, and the author of the Asclepian Dialogue; but are very explicitly mentioned by Hermias, in his Scholia on the Phaedrus, p. 104, as follows: πως £ε και αγαλματα λεγεται εν$&υσιαν ; η αυτό μεν ενεξγε ι ου πεξΐ το θειον, ο γε α-^υχον εστι, αλλα την ύλην η τελεστική διακαθηξασα και τινας χαρακτήρας και συμζολα η τεξώεισα τω αγαλματι , ττξωτον μεν έμψυχον αυτό δια τούτων εποιησε, και ζωήν τινα εκ του κοσμου καταδεξασθαο οπεξ αγαλμα αει Χξ^ματιζει, εως δυνανται δεχεσθαι οι επιτήδειοι, το μεν yap αγαλμα , ως αν τ ελεσθη, μενει εφεξής, εως αν παν τη ανεπιτηδειον γενηται προς την θε:αν ελλα^ίψιν ο μεντοι δοχευς παξα μεξος’ νυν μεν γαρ δεξαμενον αποπαυεται, αυθις δε παλιν εμφοξειται. το δε αίτιον, οτι η μεν ·\υχη εμφορούμενη αυτή ενεργεί πεξΐ το θε«ον, διο αποκαμνει υπέρ την εαυτης δυναμιν ενεξγουσα. η γαξ αν ην θεός και ομοια ταις των άστρων ■φ υχαις , ει μη απεκαμνη. το δε αγαλμα , ως αν πάθη , ουτω μενει ελλαμπομενον * διο και η ανεπιτηδειοτης αυτου εις στ εξησιν πανταχη χοοξει, εαν μη παλιν εκ νέας υπο του τελεστου τελεσθη και εμ^υχωθη. i. e. u But how are statues said to have an enthusiastic energy ? May we not say, that a statue, being inanimate, does not itself energize about divinity; but the telestic art, purifying the matter of which the statue consists, and placing round it certain characters and symbols, in the first place renders it, through these means, animated, and causes it to receive a certain life from the world ; and, in the next place, after this, it prepares the statue to be illuminated by a divine nature, through which it always delivers oracles, as long as it is properly adapted. For the statue, when it has been rendered perfect by the telestic art, remains afterwards [endued with a prophetic power], till it becomes entirely unadapted to divine illumination ; but the mortal who receives the inspiring influence of the Gods, receives it only at certain times, and not always. But the cause of this is, that the soul, when filled with deity, energizes about it. Hence, in consequence of energizing above its own power, it becomes weary. For it would be a God, and similar to the souls of the stars, if it did not become weary. But the statue, conformably to its participations, remains

Then one of these, whom all of them called a scribe, standing before the doors, the company of the Pasto-

illuminated. Hence the inaptitude of it entirely proceeds into privation, unless it is again, dc novo , perfected and reanimated by the mystic operator.’7

Conformably to this, Proclus also, in Tim. pp. 239 and 240, says : και παΧιν χαι εκ τούτον δηΧον, όπως τον δημιουργόν κα τα τους αχξους ιδξυει των τεΧεστων. αγαΧματοποιον αυτόν an τοψαινων του χοσμου, χαθαπερ έμπροσθεν ονομάτων ποιητην θειων, και χαρακτήρων θειων εχψαντικον, δι ων την -^υχην ετελεχεν. ταυτα γαξ και οι τω οντι τεΧευτα ι (lege τεΧεσται ) δρωσι, ha χαρακτήρων χαι ονομάτων ζωτικων, τελουντες τα αγαλμα τα, χαι ζωντα χαι κινούμενα αποτεΧουντες · i. c. (c And

again, from this it is evident that Plato establishes the Demiurgus conformably to the most consummate of the telestse : for he exhibits him as the statuary of the world, just as before he represented him the maker of divine names, and the enunciator of divine characters, through which he gave perfection to the soul. For these things are effected by those who are telestoe in reality, who give completion to statues, through characters and vital names, and render them living and moving.” It must be observed, that these telesta were initiators into the mysteries, and were thcurgists, or capable of performing divine operations.

And again, in his Scholia on the Cratylus, p. 21 : και ώσπερ η τελεστική ha δη τίναν συμζοΧων χαι απορρήτων συνθημάτων τα τηδε αγαΧματα τοις θεοις απειχαζει , και επιτήδεια ποιεί προς υποδοχήν των θειων εΧΧαμ^εων, ουτω δε και η νομοθετική κα τα την αυτήν αφομοιωτικήν δυναμιν αγαΧματα των πραγμάτων ι ιψιστησι τα ονοματα. u And as the telestic art, through certain symbols and arcane signatures, assimilates statues to the Gods, and makes them adapted to the reception of divine illuminations, so the legislative art, according to the same assimilative power, gives subsistence to names, as the statues or images of things.” The excellent Sallust, in his treatise on the Gods and the World, informs us, that these characters which were placed round statues were imitations of supernal ineffable powers , οι δε χαρακτήρες τας άρρητους ανω δυνάμεις μιμούνται.

Iamblichus also, in a treatise, περί αγαΧματων , on Statues, which is unfortunately lost, but is mentioned by Photius, in Biblioth. p. 554, and which Philoponus attempted to confute, shows, “ that statues are divine, and full of divine participation. And this he demonstrates to be the case, not only of such statues as are fashioned by the hands of men, by an occult art, and which are denominated diopetes (i. e. descended from Jupiter, or from heaven), through the immanifestness of the art by which they were made, for these are of a celestial nature, but also of such as are fashioned by artists in common, for money.77

And, in the last place, in the Asclepian Dialogue, which is attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, and is only extant in a Latin translation, ascribed to Apuleius, it is said, near the end : “ Omnium mirabilium

phori y, which is the name of the members of that sacred college, being cited as to an assembly, uttered from a lofty chair auspicious wishes, from a book in which they were written: For the Great Emperor, the Senate, and the Equestrian order, and for all the Roman People; and likewise for the nautical ships, and for all those who are governed under the empire of this our hemisphere ; and then he pronounced, in the Greek tongue, and after the Grecian manner, Ααοις α,φεσίζ , which signified that divine service was ended, and that it was lawful for every man to depart, which words were followed by a clamour of the people, signifying that all things would happen felicitously to ail of them. Afterwards, the people being full of joy, carrying with them branches of olive, sweet herbs, and garlands of flowers, and having kissed the footsteps of the Goddess, departed to their own habitations. Nevertheless, my mind would not suffer me to go even the breadth of a nail from that place ; but, being attentive to the image of the Goddess, I recalled to my memory my former misfortunes.

Swift Fame, however, had not in the meantime been idle, but had every where narrated in my country the adorable benefit of the provident Goddess, and my memorable fortune [i. e. my restoration from the asinine to the

vicit admirationem, quod homo divinam potuit invenire naturam eamque efficere. Quoniam ergo proavi nostri multum errabant, circa deorum rationem increduli, et non animadvertentes ad cultum religionemque divinam, invenerunt artem, qua deos efficerent, cui invent® adjunxerunt virtutem de mundi natura convenientem, eamque miscentes. Et quoniam animas facere non poterant, evocantes animas damonum, vel angelorum, eas indiderunt imaginibus sanctis, divinisque mysteriis, per quas sola idola et benefaciendi et malefaciendi vires habere potuissent.” In this extract it is clearly asserted, that the ancient Egyptians evocated the souls of demons, or angels, and inserted them in sacred images; and that it was through these souls alone that idols possessed the power of being beneficent or malefic. These sacred statues are likewise alluded to in other parts of this work of Ilermes.

y The pastophori were the priests that carried the shrines of the Gods.

human form]. At length, therefore, my domestics and servants, and those who were nearly allied to me by the bond of consanguinity, laying aside the sorrow which they had conceived from the false relation of my death, and exhilarated by a sudden joy, hastened immediately to see me, who had been divinely saved and brought back as it were from the realms beneath, and presented me with various gifts. With the unexpected view of these I being delighted, gave them thanks for their worthy gifts : for my domestics had providently taken care to bring me what would be abundantly sufficient for the expenses of my dress and my food. Having therefore spoken to each of them, as it was my duty to do, and narrated to them my pristine sorrows and my present joy, I again betook myself to a survey of the Goddess, which was to me most delightful, and procured for myseli a temporary habitation within the enclosure of the temple ; still applying myself to the private services of the Goddess, being inseparable from the society of the priests, and a constant adorer of the great Goddess. Nor did I pass any night, or any sleep, without some vision and admonition of this divinity ; but she ordered me by frequent mandates to be now initiated in her sacred mysteries, to which I had been some time ago destined. But I, though it w7as what I very much desired, was, nevertheless, restrained by religious fear. For by diligent inquiry I knew that the service of religion was difficult, that the abstinence which chastity required was sufficiently arduous, and that life, which is subject to many casualties, is to be defended by cautious circumspection. Frequently revolving these things with myself, I deferred the being initiated, I know not how, although hastening to the accomplishment of it.

On a certain night I appeared to myself to see in a dream the chief priest offering to me his full lap ; and on my asking him what that wras, he answered me. That the contents of his lap were sent to me from Thessaly ; for that a servant of mine, whose name was Candidus, had arrived from the same province. When I awoke, I re-

volved in my mind frequently, and for a long time, what the vision portended, especially as I was certain that I never had any servant who was called by that name. Nevertheless, I believed that some gain was undoubtedly signified by the priest offering me the contents of his lap. Thus, being anxious and attentive to that more abundant gain, 1 [impatiently] waited for the opening of the temple in the morning. And while, the white veils [by which the image of the Goddess was screened from the view of the profane], being drawn aside in different directions, we implored the venerable face of the Goddess, the priest going round the altars, which were disposed in order, applied himself to divine works ; and, together with the usual prayers, poured from a vessel water drawn from a fountain which was in the penetralia of the temple. The sacred rites, therefore, being now properly performed, the religious loudly announced the first hour of the day by their morning adorations. And, behold ! the servants suddenly came from my country whom I had there left, after Fotis, by her base errors, had forced me to be tied by a rope [i. e. to become an ass] ; for my kindred had brought back with them my servants, and also had recovered that horse of mine, which I recognised by the spot on its back, after it had been sold to various persons. Hence, I then especially admired the sagacity of my dream, that, besides the congruity of the promised gain, it had restored to me my horse, which was of a white colour, under the designation of the servant Candidus.

After this, I, being still solicitous about the same thing, assiduously applied myself to the worship of the Goddess, perceiving that the hope which I had conceived of future good was now confirmed by the present benefits. Nevertheless, my desire of engaging in sacred offices increased daily more and more. Hence I frequently went to the chief priest, and most earnestly entreated him to initiate me in the arcane mysteries of the sacred night2. But he, though otherwise a severe man, and

1 i. c. Of the night sacred to the mysteries.

celebrated by his observance of that abstemious religion, deferring my request mildly and gently, and in the way in which parents are accustomed to moderate the immature desires of their children, allured my mind, though otherwise anxious, by the solace of better hope. For he said, That the day in which he who desired he might be initiated was indicated by the will of the Goddess, and that by her providence the priest was chosen who ought to perform the sacred rites, and that by her mandate also the expense necessary for the ceremonies was ordained. All which circumstances, he thought, should induce me to wait with obsequious patience, since we ought by all means to avoid eagerness and obstinacy, as faults, and neither be dilatory when called, nor precipitate when not called. He added, that there was not any one of their number who was so lost to a sense of propriety, or rather so destined to death, as to rashlv and sacrilegiously dare to engage in the service of the Goddess, and thus contract a deadly guilt, unless she peculiarly ordered him to do so ; for the gates of the realms beneath, and the guardianship of life, are placed in the hands of the Goddess, and the delivery of her mysteries is celebrated as a thing resembling a voluntary death, and a precarious life, because she is accustomed to choose for this purpose men who, having arrived at a great age, are now placed in the extreme boundary of their life, but to whom, nevertheless, the great arcana of religion may be safely committed, and who, through her providence, being after a manner born again, are restored to the race of a new life. It therefore was requisite that I should also wait for the celestial mandate, although, by the clear and manifest favour of the great Goddess, I had some time ago been called and destined to her blessed service; and that I should now abstain from profane and nefarious food, no less than other worshippers of the divinity, in order that I might with greater rectitude accede to the more secret arcana of the most pure religion .

Thus spoke the priest, nor was my compliance broken by impatience ; but I attentively performed daily the

laborious service pertaining to the observance of sacred rites, with mild tranquillity and laudable silence. Nor did the salutary benignity of the powerful Goddess deceive me, nor torment me by the delay of a length of time ; but she clearly admonished me by no obscure mandates of obscure night [z. e. in a nocturnal dream], that the day was now arrived that had been always the object of my desire, and in which she would put me in possession of my greatest wish. She also informed me what sum of money would be requisite for my procuring the sacred apparatus, and at the same time appointed for me, as the minister of sacred rites, that very Mithras himself, her own chief priest, who, she said, was conjoined to me by a certain divine consent of the stars. But Ϊ, by these and other benevolent precepts of the supreme Goddess, being mentally refreshed, sleep having left me, though it was not yet clear day, immediately proceeded to the dwelling of the priest, and having found him then going out of his bedchamber, I saluted him. And I had now determined to request more firmly than ever that I might commence my religious service, as a thing that was due to me. But he, as soon as he saw me, began, prior to me, thus to speak : “ O my Lucius, how happy and blessed are you, whom the august divinity has so greatly honoured by her propitious will ! And why,” said he, “ do you now stand idle, and make any delay ? The day sought for by your continual wishes is now present to you, in which you will be initiated in the most pious arcana of sacred rites, by these my hands, through the divine mandates of the multinominal Goddess.” And the most humane old man, taking hold of me by the hand, led me immediately to the doors of the most ample temple ; and having performed the office of opening them, in the accustomed solemn way, and made the morning sacrifice, he took from the most inward parts of the adytum, certain books written in unknown characters [i. e. in hieroglyphics] ; partly compendiously suggesting the words of a discourse by the figures of animals of every kind ; and partly fortified against the inquisitive

perusal of the profane, by knotted accents, and which were bent after the manner of a wheel, and folded in each other like the tendrils of a vine. From these books he informed me what must necessarily be prepared by me for the purpose of initiation.

Immediately, therefore, I strenuously procured the previous requisites, and somewhat more abundantly than I was ordered to do, partly through myself, and partly through my associates. And when the time, as the priest said, required it, he led me to the nearest bath, which was surrounded by a company of religious men ; and when he had placed me in the accustomed bath, he himself washed me, and sprinkled me with water in the purest manner, after he had first implored the pardon of the Gods. Again, also, he brought me back to the temple, and there placed me before the footsteps of the Goddess, two parts of the day having been now passed over ; and having given certain mandates in secret, which are too holy to be uttered, he clearly ordered, before all that were present, that I should abstain from luxurious food, during those ten continued days, and that I should not eat the flesh of any animal, and should refrain from wine. These precepts therefore, having been properly observed by me, with a venerable continence, the day had now arrived in which I was to appear before the image of the Goddess Isis, in order to be initiated, and the sun descending led on the evening. Then, behold, there was a conflux of the people on all sides, every one honouring me with various gifts, according to the ancient custom of sacred rites. Then also the priest, all the profane being removed, taking hold of me by the hand, brought me to the penetralia of the temple, clothed in a new linen garment. Perhaps, inquisitive reader, you will very anxiously ask me what was then said and done ? I would tell you, if it could be lawfully told ; you should know it, if it was lawful for you to hear it. But both the ears and the tongue are guilty of rash curiosity. Nevertheless, I will not keep you in suspense with religious desire, nor torment you with long-continued anxiety.

GOLDEN ASS, OF APULE1US. — BOOK XI.

Hear, therefore, but believe what is true. I approached to the confines of death , and having trod on the threshold of Proserpine , 1 returned from it, being carried through all the elements. At midnight l saiv the sun shining with a splendid light ; and I manifestly drew near to the Gods beneath, and the Gods above , and proximalely adored them*. Behold, 1 have narrated to you things, of which, though heard, it is nevertheless necessary that you should be ignorant. I will, therefore, only relate that, which may be enunciated to the understanding of the profane without a crime.

The morning arose, and the solemnities being performed, I came forth consecrated in twelve sacerdotal garments, in a dress indeed very religious, but of which I am not forbidden by any law to speak, because it was seen by many who were then present. For, by order of the priest, I ascended a wooden throne, which was in the very middle of the sacred dwelling [i. e. of the temple], and was placed before the image of the Goddess, and there I sat conspicuous, in a garment which was indeed linen, but was elegantly painted. A precious cloak also depended from my shoulders behind my back as far as to my heels. Nevertheless, to whatever part of me you directed your view, you might see that I was remarkable by the animals which were painted round my vestment in various colours. Here were Indian dragons, there Hyperborean griffins, which the other hemisphere generates in the form of a winged animal. Men devoted to the service of divinity call this cloak the Olympic garment. But in my right hand I carried a burning torch ; and my head

a In my Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries, to which I refer the reader, I have shown that the development of the principles from which the soul descended, accompanied by a vision of those principles, formed a part of the sacred mysteries; that εττοττίεια, or inspection, consisted in beholding the Gods themselves invested with a resplendent light ; and that this was symbolical of those transporting visions, which the virtuous soul will constantly enjoy in a future state ; and of which it is able to gain some ravishing glimpses, even while connected with the present body.

was decorously encircled with a crown, the shining leaves of the palm tree projecting from it like rays of light. Thus being adorned like the sun, and placed so as to resemble a statue, on a sudden, the veils being drawn aside, I was exhibited to the eyes of the people. Afterwards, I celebrated the most joyful day of my initiation, as my natal dayb, by delightfully pleasant and facetious banquets. The third day also was celebrated with the same ceremonies, and was accompanied by a religious breakfast, and the legitimate consummation of the initiation. And having staid for some days in that place, I enjoyed through the divine image [i. e. the image of the Goddess] an inexplicable pleasure ; being indebted to it for a benefit which can never be repaid. Nevertheless, through the admonition of the Goddess, having suppliantly given her thanks, though not such as she deserved, yet to the best of my ability, I prepared myself very slowly to return home.

Having, therefore, with difficulty burst the bonds of my most ardent desire [of remaining with the Goddess], I at length prostrated myself before her, and having for a long time wiped her footsteps with my face, the tears bursting forth, interrupting also my speech by frequent sobs, and as it were devouring my words, I thus addressed the Goddess : “ Thou, O holy and perpetual saviour of the human race, being always munificent in cherishing mortals, dost employ the sweet affection of a mother on the misfortunes of the miserable. Nor is there any day or night, or even a slender moment of time, which passes unattended by thy benevolent interpositions. Thou protectest men both by sea and land, and dispersing the storms of life, dost extend thy salutary right hand, by which thou drawest back the inextricably twisted thread of the Fates, and dost mitigate the tempests of inclement Fortune, and restrain the noxious courses of the stars.

b Because, through being initiated, he had on that day commenced a new life.

GOLDEN" ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK XT. 285

The supernal Gods reverence thee, and those in the realms beneath attentively observe thy nod. Thou rollest the sphere of the universe round the steady poles, dost illuminate the sun, govern the world, and tread on the dark realms of Tartarus. The stars move responsive to thy command, the Gods rejoice in thy divinity, the hours and seasons return by thy appointment, and the elements reverence thy decree. By thy nod blasts of wind blow, the clouds are nourished, seeds germinate, and blossoms increase. Birds swiftly passing through the tracks of the air, wild beasts wandering on the mountains, serpents concealed in the ground, and the enormous monsters that swim in the sea, are terrified at the majesty which invests thy divinity. But I, who in celebrating thy praises possess but weak abilities, and for offering sacrifices but a slender patrimony, have by no means eloquence sufficient to express all that I conceive of the dignity of thy nature ; nor are a thousand mouths, and as many tongues, nor the eternal series of unwearied speech, equal to the arduous task. I will, therefore, be solicitous to perform that which a religious though poor man may be able to effect. For I will image to myself thy divine countenance, and most sacred deity, and perpetually preserve it concealed in the most secret recesses of my soul.” After this manner, having implored the supreme Goddess, I embraced the priest Mithras, whom I now called my parent, and clinging to his neck, and giving him many kisses, I begged him to pardon me, that I could not remunerate him in a manner adequate to such mighty benefits.

After, therefore, I had been for a long time engaged in giving him thanks, I at last departed, and proceeded directly to my paternal abode, in order to revisit it after so long an absence. Hence, when a few days had elapsed, I rapidly collected together my viatica in bundles, through the admonition of the powerful Goddess, and entering into a ship, I directed my course towards Rome. Being likewise certain of prosperous winds during my voyage, I quickly entered into port, afterwards travelled with great

rapidity in a chariot^ and arrived at this hallowed cityJ, on the day before the Ides of December, in the evening. Nor afterwards was any concern of such principal importance with me, as that of daily supplicating the supreme divinity of Queen Isis ; who is there propitiated with the greatest veneration under the name of Isis Campensise, which appellation she is allotted from the situation of her temple. Lastly, I was an assiduous worshipper of her divinity, being a foreigner indeed in her temple, but a domestic of her religion f. And behold, when the great Sun having passed through the sign-bearing circle [i. e. the zodiac], had completed the year, the vigilant care of the beneficent Goddess again interrupted my sleep, and imain admonished me of initiation and sacred rites. And

O

I wondered what she was preparing for me to do, and what future event she announced. For how is it possible I should not ; since I appeared to myself to have been already abundantly initiated?

While, therefore, I partly discuss my religious scruple in my own mind, and partly avail myself of the counsels of the priests, a novel and perfectly admirable circumstance took place : for I found that I was only initiated

c There are instances among the ancients of extraordinary celerity in travelling. Alexander, to suppress the rebellion of the Arici, travelled with his army six hundred stadia in two days, i. e. each day seventy-two miles. Julius Ciesar used to travel commonly one hundred Homan miles in a day, as we are informed by Suetonius. Curio, according to Appian, travelled with Carsar’s letters three thousand three hundred stadia in three days, i. e. three hundred and seventy-seven English miles. And Tiberius Nero, as we are informed by Pliny, travelled with three chaises in one day and one night, a journey of two hundred miles, to see his brother when he was sick.

d i. e . Rome, which was considered to be the seat of the Gods, and the true name of which it was not lawful to enunciate even in the performance of sacred rites.

e The temple of Isis was in the Campus Martius, whence she w-as called Campensis. It is said by Porphyry, in his life of Plotinus, that the Egyptian priest who evocated the peculiar diemon of Plotinus, could at that time find no other pure place in Rome adapted to that purpose, than the temple of Isis.

' Because he had been initiated in the mysteries of Isis at Corinth.

iii the mysteries of the Goddess, but not in those of the great God, and supreme father of the Gods, the invincible Osiris. For though the nature of their divinity and religion is connected, or rather is transcendently united ε, nevertheless, there is the greatest difference in the initiations into their mysteries. Hence, it ought to be known by me, that the great God required that I should be one of his servants. Nor did the thing long remain ambiguous. For on the following night, I saw in a dream one of the priests clothed in linen garments, who carrying thyrsi and ivy, and certain other things of which it is not lawful to speak, placed them before my household Gods, and occupying my seat, announced to me that I should prepare the banquets of a magnificent religion. He also walked gently with a limping step, the ankle bone of his left foot being a little bent, in order that he might afford me some sign, by which I might know him. All the darkness of ambiguity therefore was removed, after such a manifest declaration of the will of the Gods. Hence, as soon as I had performed the morning salutations of the Goddess, I diligently inquired whether any one of the priests resembled him whom I had seen in a dream. Nor was he wanting. For I immediately beheld one of the Pastophori, exactly according with the nocturnal image, not only by the indication of his foot, but also by his stature and features ; and who, as I afterwards knew, was called Asinius Marcellus, a name not foreign to my transformation1*. Without delay, therefore, I went directly to him, who was not ignorant of what I intended to say, because he had already been admonished by a similar mandate, that he should initiate me in the mysteries of Osiris. For on the preceding night, while he was adapting crowns for the statue of the great God, he seemed to himself to have heard from that mouth of his by which he pronounces

£ In the original unica , which corresponds to the Greek word ενιαιος> and signifies ζνωσ-ζως υττεξζολν, i. e. transcendency of union.

h For between Asinus, an ass, into which he had been changed, and Asinius , there is a great resemblance.

the destiny of every thing, that he should send the Madaurensian to him, who was very poor, and to whom his sacred mysteries ought immediately to be administered. For the God said. That by his providence, renown from religious studies was prepared for the Madaurensian, and great gain for him [i. e. for Asinius Marcellus].

After this manner, being affianced to sacred concerns, I was retarded, contrary to my wishes, through the slenderness of my means to pay the necessary expenses. For the money which I had spent in my journey had consumed the small substance of my patrimony ; and the presents which it was requisite I should make in Rome [in order to be initiated in the mysteries of Osiris], exceeded those which I had before made in a Roman province. Hard poverty, therefore, being greatly adverse to my desire, I was tormented, being placed, according to the proverb, between a sacrifice and a stone. Nor was I less urged by the pressing mandate of the God. And now being frequently stimulated, not without great perturbation, at last by command of the divinity, having sold my garment, though but small, I collected a sum sufficient for the purpose. And this very thing I was expressly ordered to do. For the God said to me, “ Would you at all spare your garments, in attempting to procure any thing which might administer to your pleasure, and are you now, when you are going to be initiated in such great mysteries, dubious whether you shall commit yourself to poverty unattended with repentance?” All things, therefore, being abundantly prepared, again being satisfied for ten days with inanimate food, and besides this, being also instructed in the nocturnal orgies of the chief God Serapis, I now complied with the divine mandate, full of that confidence which my knowledge of a kindred religion produced. This circumstance afforded the greatest consolation to my peregrination, and at the same time more largely supplied me with the means of subsistence. For, the deity of Good Event being favourable, I supported myself through the gain which I acquired in the forum by pleading causes in the Latin tongue. Behold, also, a

GOLDENT ASS, OF APULEIUS. — BOOK XT. 289

short time after this, I was again excited by the unexpected and perfectly wonderful mandates of the Gods, and was compelled to undertake a third initiation'. But I, not lightly solicitous, and in a state of great suspense, frequently exercised my thoughts in considering what the intention could be of this new and unheard-of will of the Gods ; and what could still remain to be added to an initiation already twice repeated. For I said, “ Both the priests k have either wrongly advised me, or less fully than they ought to have done.” And, by Hercules, I now also began to entertain a bad opinion of their fidelity. While, however, I was thus fluctuating in a stormy sea of thought, and agitated as if I had been insane, the mild image of the God thus instructed me by a nocturnal vision. “ There is no reason,” it said, “ that you should be terrified by the long series of religious rites, as if any thing had been previously omitted ; but you ought rather to be exceedingly joyful on account of the honour which the Gods assidulously pay you, and to exult that you will thrice obtain a thing which is scarcely even once granted to others. i\.nd you may justly presume from that number that you will always be blessed. Moreover, you will find that this third initiation is very necessary for you, if you now consider with yourself, that the garment of the Goddess with which you were invested in the province, remains deposited in the same temple, and that you cannot supplicate at Rome on solemn days in a garment of this kind, or be rendered illustrious by that blessed vestment, when you shall be commanded to put it on. In order, therefore, that you may be happy, fortunate, and healthful, again with a joyful mind be initiated in sacred mysteries, by the command of the great Gods [Osiris, Serapis, and Isis].”

' This third initiation was into the mysteries of the Roman Isis, as the first was into those of the Achaian Isis.

k i. e. The priest Mithras, who had initiated him in the mysteries of Isis in Achaia, and Asinius Marcellus, who had initiated him in those of Serapis at Rome.

Thus far the persuasive majesty of the divine dream announced to me what was requisite to be done. Nor did I neglect the affair afterwards, nor defer it by supine procrastination; but immediately relating what I had seen to my priest, 1 lived chastely, and abstained from animal food, and having of my own accord extended my abstinence beyond those ten days prescribed by a perpetual law, I bought what was requisite for my initiation, spending more largely from a pious intention than with a view to what was wanted. Nor, by Hercules, did I at all repent of my labours and expenses. For by the liberal providence of the Gods, I was sufficiently enriched by forensic gain. At length, after a very few days had elapsed, the God Osiris, who is the chief of the great Gods, the highest of the greater, the greatest of the highest, and the ruler of the greatest, not being now transformed into some foreign person, but manifestly deigning to speak to me in his own divine words, seemed to me in a dream to declare, that I should now indubitably plead causes in the forum with renown, and that I should not fear the slanders of the malevolent, which the learning I had acquired by laborious study would there excite. And in order that I might minister to his sacred rites mingled with a crowd of other religious men, he chose me to be one of his Pastophori, and also placed me among the quinquennial Decurions. And lastly, my hair being again perfectly shaved, I joyfully performed the duties of that most ancient college, and which was established about the time of Sylla, not shading or covering my baldness, but rendering it in all parts conspicuous.

r n f

APULEIUS

OK THE

GOD1 OF SOCRATES.

Plato gives a triple division to the whole nature of things, and especially to that part of it which pertains to

a In many places, Plato calls the participants of the divinities Gods. Thus in the Laws a divine soul is called a God ; and in the Phaedrus it is said, “ That all the horses and charioteers of the Gods are good, and consist of things that are good/' And when he says this, he is speaking of divine souls. After this also, in the same dialogue, he still more clearly says, u And this is the life of the Gods.” What however is still more admirable is this, that he denominates those beings Gods, who are always united to the Gods, and who, together with them, give completion to one series. For in the Phaedrus, Timaeus, and other dialogues, he extends the appellation of the Gods as far as to daemons, though the latter are essentially posterior to, and subsist about the Gods. But what is still more paradoxical, he does not refuse to call certain men Gods : for in the Sophista he thus denominates the Elean guest or stranger.

According to Plato, therefore, one thing is a God simply, another on account of union, another through participation, another through contact, and another through similitude. For of super-essential natures, each is primarily a God; of intellectual natures, each is a God according to union; and of divine souls, each is a God according to participation. But divine daemons are Gods according to contact with the Gods ; and the souls of men are allotted this appellation through similitude.

As the daemon of Socrates, therefore, was doubtless one of the highest order, as may be inferred from the intellectual superiority of Socrates to most other men, Apuleius is justified in calling this daemon a God. And that the daemon of Socrates indeed w-as divine, is evident from the testimony of Socrates himself in the First Alcibiades : for in the course o! that dialogue he clearly says, “ I have long been of opinion that the God did not as yet direct me to hold any conversation with you.” And in the Apology he most unequivocally evinces that this daemon is allotted a divine transcendency, considered as ranking in the order oi daemons.

The ignorance of this distinction has been the source oi infinite confusion and absurd hypotheses, to the modern writers on the mythology and theology of the Greeks.

animals ; and he likewise is of opinion, that there are Gods in the highest, in the middle, and in the lowest place of the universe. Understand, however, that this division is not only derived from local separation, but also from dignity of nature, which is itself distinguished not by one or two, but by many modes. Nevertheless, it will be more manifest to begin from the distribution of place b; for this order assigns the heavens to the immortal Gods, conformably to what their majesty demands. And of these celestial Gods, some we apprehend by the sight, but others we investigate by intellect ; and by the sight, indeed, we perceive —

Ye, the world’s most refulgent lights,

Who through the heavens conduct the gliding yearc.

We do not, however, only perceive by the eyes those principal Gods, the Sun the artificer of the day, and the Moon the emulator of the Sun, and the ornament of night; whether she is cornicular, or divided*1, or gibbous, or full; exhibiting a various ignited torch; being more largely illuminated the farther she departs from the Sun ; and, by an equal augment both of her path and her light, defining the month through her increments, and afterwards by her equal decrements ; [for this must be admitted] whether, as the Chaldeans think, she possesses a proper and permanent light of her own, being in one

b It is here requisite to observe, that divine natures are not in bodies, but externally rule over them. Hence they impart from themselves to bodies every good they are able to receive, but they themselves receive nothing from bodies ; so that neither will they derive from them certain peculiarities. By no means, therefore, must it be admitted (as Iamblichus well observes), that the cause of the distinction of the divine genera is an arrangement with reference to bodies ; as of Gods to ethereal bodies, but of daemons to aerial bodies, and of souls to such as are terrene. See sect. i. chap. viii. of my translation of Iamblichus on the Mysteries.

0 These lines are taken from book i. of the Georgies of Virgil.

d the original, dividua ; and the moon is dividua when she is a quarter old.

APU LEXUS ON THE GOD OX' SOCRATES. 293

part of herself endued with light, but in another part deprived of splendour, and possessing a manifold convolution of her various-coloured face, and thus changes her form ; or whether, being wholly deprived of a peculiar light, and requiring extraneous splendour, with a dense body, or with a body polished like a mirror, she receives either the oblique or direct rays of the Sun, and, that I may use the words of Lucretius, [in lib. v.]

throws from her orb a spurious light.

Whichever of these opinions is true, for this I shall afterwards consider, there is not any Greek, or any barbarian, who will not easily conjecture that the Sun and Moon are Gods ; and not these only, as I have said, but also the five stars, which are commonly called by the unlearned erratic, though, by their undeviating, certain, and established motions, they produce by their divine revolutions the most orderly and eternal transitions ; by a various form of convolution indeed, but with a celerity perpetually equable and the same, representing, through an admirable vicissitude, at one time progressions, and at another regressions, according to the position, curvature, and obliquity of their circles, which he will know in the best manner, who is skilled in the risings and settings of the stars.

You who accord with Plato must also rank in the same number of visible Gods those other stars,

The rainy Hyades, Arcturus, both the Bears e :

and likewise other radiant Gods, by whom we perceive, in a serene sky, the celestial choir adorned and crowned, when the nights are painted with a severe grace and a stem beauty ; beholding, as Ennius says, in this most perfect shield of the world, engravings diversified with admirable splendours. There is another species of Gods, which nature has denied us the power of seeing, and yet

e This verse is taken from book iii. of the iEneid,

we may with astonishment contemplate them through intellect, acutely surveying them with the eye of the mind. In the number of these are those twelve Godsf which are comprehended by Ennius, with an appropriate arrangement of their names, in two verses :

Juno, Vesta, Minerva, Ceres, Diana, Venus, Mars,

Mercurius, Jovi’, Neptunus, Vulcanus, Apollo;

and others of the like kind, whose names indeed have been for a long time known by our ears, but whose powers are conjectured by our minds, being perceived through the various benefits which they impart to us in the affairs of life, in those things over which they severally preside. The crowd, however, of the ignorant, who are rejected by Philosophy as profane, whose sanctity is vain, who are deprived of right reason, destitute of religion, and incapable of obtaining truth, dishonour the Gods, either by a most scrupulous worship or a most insolent disdain of them; one part being timid through superstition, but another tumid through contempt. Many venerate all these Gods, who are established on the lofty summit of ether, far removed from human contagion ; but they venerate them improperly. For all fear them, but ignorantly; and a few deny their existence, but impiously. Plato thought these Gods to be incorporeal g and animated natures, without any end or beginning, but eternal both with reference to the time past and the time to

f These Gods form, in the Platonic theology, the super-celestial, or liberated ( [απόλυτοι ) order, being immediately proximate to the mundane order of Gods. Concerning these divinities, see book vi. of my translation of Proclus on the Theology of Plato.

e 1 he Delphin editor of this treatise, who appears to have been perfectly ignorant of the philosophy of Plato, savs, that Plato is of an opinion contrary to what is here asserted by Apuleius, in the Epinomis and in the rimaeus, because, in the former dialogue, he gives to the celestial Gods a most beautiful , and in the latter an igneous body. But if rational souls are incorporeal, according to Plato, though connected with bodies, much more must this be the case with the Gods.

A PULEIUS ON TIIE GOD OF SOCRATES. 295

come ; spontaneously separated from the contagion of body ; through a perfect intellect possessing supreme beatitude ; good, not through the participation of any extraneous good, but from themselves ; and able to procure for themselves every thing which is requisite, with prompt facility, with simple, unrestrained, and absolute power. But of the father of these, who is the lord and author of all things, and who is liberated from all necessity of acting or suffering, not being bound by any duty to the performance of any offices, why should I now begin to speak? Since Plato, who was endued with celestial eloquence, when employing language worthy of the immortal Gods, frequently proclaims that this cause of all things, on account of his incredible and ineffable transcendency, cannot be even moderately comprehended by any definition, through the poverty of human speech ; and that the intellectual apprehension of this God can scarcely be obtained by wise men, when they have separated themselves from body, as much as possible, through the vigorous energies of the mind. He also adds , that this knowledge sometimes shines forth with a most rapid coruscation , like a bright and dear light in the most profound darkness h. i will therefore omit the discussion of this, in which all words adequate to the amplitude of the thing are not only wanting to me, but could not even be found by my master Plato. Hence, I shall now sound a retreat, in things which far surpass my mediocrity, and at length bringdown my discourse from heaven to earth, in which we men are the principal animal, though most of us, through the neglect of good discipline, are so depraved by all errors, so imbued with the most atrocious crimes, and

h This is a very remarkable passage, but is not to be found in any of the writings of Plato that are now extant. Something similar to this is said by Plato, in his seventh epistle, respecting the intuition of idea , or intellectual form ; viz. “ that from long converse with the thing itself, accompanied by a life in conformity to it, on a sudden, a light, as if from a leaping fire, will be enkindled in the soul, and will there itseli nourish itself.”

I

290 APU LEI US ON THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

have become so excessively ferocious, through having nearly destroyed the mildness of our nature, that it may seem there is not any animal on the earth viler than man. Our discussion, however, at present is not concerning errors, but concerning the natural distribution of things.

Men, therefore, dwell on the earth, being endued with reason, possessing the power of speech, having immortal souls, but mortal members, light and anxious minds, brutal and infirm bodies, dissimilar manners, but similar errors, pervicacious audacity, pertinacious hope, vain labour, and decaying fortune, severally mortal, yet all of them eternal in their whole species, and mutable in this, that they alternately leave offspring to supply their place ; [and besides all this] are conversant with fleeting time, slow wisdom, a rapid death, and a querulous life. In the meanwhile you will have two kinds of animals, Gods very much differing from men, in sublimity of place, in perpetuity of life, in perfection of nature, and having no proximate communication with them1; since those supreme are separated from the lowest habitations by such an interval of altitude ; and the life there is eternal and never-failing, but is here decaying and interrupted ; and the natures there are elevated to beatitude, but those that are here are depressed to calamity. What then? Does nature connect itself by no bond, but leave itself separated into the divine and human part, and suffer itself to be interrupted, and as it were debile? For, as the same Plato says, no God is mingled with men. But this is a principal indication of the sublimity of the Gods, that they are not contaminated by any contact with us k. One part of them is only to be seen by us with debilitated vision ; as the stars, about whose magnitude and colour men are still ambiguous. But the rest are only known by intellect,

' A divine nature is immediately present with all things, but all things are not immediately present with it; because aptitude in the participant is here requisite to an union with that which is participable.

k i. e. By any habitude or alliance to our nature.

and not by this with a prompt perception. This, however, must not be considered as an admirable circumstance in the immortal Gods, since even among men, who are elevated by the opulent gifts of Fortune to the tottering throne and pendulous tribunal of a kingdom, the access is rare, in consequence of their living remote from witnesses, in certain penetralia of their dignity : for familiarity produces contempt, but infrequency conciliates admiration.

What, therefore, shall I do (some orator may object) after this decision of yours, which is indeed celestial, but inhuman [or foreign from human nature]? If men are entirely removed far from the immortal Gods, and are so banished into these Tartarean realms of earth that all communication wTith the celestial Gods is denied to them, nor any one of the number of the celestials occasionally visits them, in the same manner as a shepherd visits his flocks of sheep, or an equerry his horses, or a herdsman his lowing cattle, in order that he may repress the more ferocious, heal the morbid, and assist those that are in want? You say that no God intervenes in human affairs. To whom, therefore, shall I pray? To whom shall I make vows ? To whom shall I immolate victims ? Whom shall I invoke through the whole of my life, as my helper in misery, as the favourer of the good, and the adversary of the evil? And lastly (which is a thing that most frequently occurs), whom shall I adduce as a witness to my oath? Shall I say, as the Virgilian Ascanius1,

Now by this head I swear, by which before

My father used to swear.

But, O lulus, your father might employ this oath among the Trojans, who wrere allied to him by their origin, and also perhaps among the Greeks, who were known to him in battle ; but among the Butuli, who were recently known by you, if no one believed in this head, what God

1 See book xi. of the JEneid.

APULEIUS OX THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

would he a surety for you? Would your right hand and your dart, as they were to the most ferocious Mezentius? For these only, by which he defended himself, he adjured :

To me my right hand and the missile dart,

Which now well-poised I hurl, are each a God m.

Take away, I beseech you, such sanguinary Gods ; a right hand weary with slaughter, and a dart rusty with gore. It is not fit that you should invoke either of these, nor that you should swear by them, since this is an honour peculiar to the highest of the Gods. For a solemn oath, as Ennius says, is also called Jovisjurandum, as pertaining to Jupiter, by whom alone it is proper to swear. What, therefore, do you think ? Shall I swear by Jupiter, holding a stone in my hand, after the most ancient manner of the Romans? But if the opinion of Plato is true, that God never mingles himself with man, a stone will hear me more easily than Jupiter. This, however, is not true : for Plato will answer for his opinion by my voice. I do not, says he, assert that the Gods are separated and alienated from us, so as to think that not even our prayers reach them ; for I do not remove them from an attention to, but only from a contact with, human affairs.

Moreover, there are certain divine middle powrers, situated in this interval of the air, between the highest ether and earth, which is in the lowest place, through whom our desires and our deserts pass to the Gods. These are called by a Greek name daemons, who, being placed between the terrestrial and celestial inhabitants, transmit prayers from the one, and gifts from the other. They likewise carry supplications from the one, and auxiliaries from the other, as certain interpreters and saluters of both. Through these same daemons, as Plato says in the Banquet, all denunciations, the various miracles of enchanters, and all the species of presages, are directed. Prefects, from among the number of these, providentially

See book x. ot the T’neid.

Λ Ρ U LEI US Ολτ THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

attend to every thing, according to the province assigned to each ; either by the formation of dreams, or causing the fissures in entrails, or governing the flights of some birds, and instructing the songs of others, or by inspiring prophets, or hurling thunder, or producing the coruscations of lightning in the clouds, or causing other things to take, place, by which we obtain a knowledge of future events n. And it is requisite to think that all these particulars are effected by the will, the power, and authority of the celestial Gods, but by the compliance, operations, and ministrant offices of daemons ; for it was through the employment, the operations, and the providential attention of these, that dreams predicted to Hannibal the loss of one of his eyes; that the inspection of the viscera previously announced to Flaminius the danger of a great slaughter; and that auguries granted to Accius Navius the miracle of the whetstone. It is also through these that forerunning indications of future empire are imparted to certain persons ; as that an eagle covered the head of Tarquinius Priscus, and that a flame illuminated the head of Servius Tullius. And lastly, to these are owing all the presages of diviners, the expiations of the Hetruscans, the enclosure of places struck by lightning, and the verses of the Sibyls ; all which, as I have said, are effected by certain powers that are media between men and Gods. For it would not be conformable to the majesty of the celestial Gods, that any one of them should either devise a dream for Hannibal, or snatch the victim from Flaminius, or direct the flight of the bird to Accius Navius, or versify the predictions of the Sibyl, or be willing to snatch the hat from the head of Tarquin, and immediately restore it, or produce a splendid flame from the head of Servius, but not such as would bum him. It is not fit that the supernal Gods should descend to things of this

n For a copious account of daemons, their nature, and different orders, see the notes on the First Alcihiades, in vol. i. of my Piato, and also my translation of laiublichus on the Mysteries.

300 APULE1US ON THE GOD OF SOCIiATES.

kind. This is the province of the intermediate Gods, who dwell in the regions of the air, which border on the earth, and yet are no less conversant with the confines of the heavens; just as in every part of the world there are animals adapted to the several parts, the volant living in the air, and the gradient on the earth. For since there are four most known elements, nature being as it were quadrifariously separated into large parts, and there are animals appropriate to earth and fire ; since Aristotle asserts, that certain peculiar animals, furnished with wings, fly in burning furnaces, and pass the whole of their life in fire °, rise into existence with it, and together with it are extinguished ; and, besides this, since, as we have before said, so many various stars are beheld supernally in ether, i. e. in the most clear flagrancy of fire p, — since this is the case, why should nature alone suffer this fourth element, the air, which is so widely extended, to be void of every thing, and destitute of [proper] inhabitants? Are not animals, however, generated in the air, in the same manner as flame-coloured animals are generated in fire, such as are unstable in water, and such as are glebous in earth? For you may most justly say, that his opinion is false, who attributes birds to the air ; since no one of them is elevated above the summit of mount Olympus, which, though it is said to be the highest of all mountains, yet the perpendicular altitude of its summit is not equal, according to geometricians, to ten stadia ; but there is an immense mass of air, which extends as far as to the nearest spiral gyrations of the moon, from which ether supernally commences. What, therefore, shall we say of such a great abundance of air, which is expanded from the lowest revolutions of the moon, as far as to the highest summit of mount Olympus? Will it be destitute

° This is asserted by Aristotle, in book v. chap. xix. of his History of Animals.

p It must be observed, however, that the fire of which ether consists, and also the stars, for the most part, is, according to Plato, vivific and unburning. See book iii. of my translation of Proclus on the Timaeus.

of its appropriate animals, and will this part of nature be without life, and debile ? But, if you diligently observe, birds themselves may, with greater rectitude, be said to be terrestrial than aerial animals ; for the whole of their life is always on the earth ; there they procure food, and there they rest ; and they only pass through that portion of the air in hying which is proximate to the earth. But, when they are weary with the rowing of their wings, the earth is to them as a port. If, therefore, reason evidently requires that proper animals must also be admitted to exist in the air, it remains that we should consider what they are, and what the species is to which they belong.

They are then by no means terrene animals ; for these verge downwards by their gravity. But neither are they of a fiery nature, lest they should be hastily raised on high by their heat. A certain middle nature, therefore must be fashioned for us, of a temperature adapted to the middle condition of the place, so that the disposition of the inhabitants may be conformable to the quality of the region. Let us then form in our mind and generate bodies, so constituted as neither to be so heavy as terrene, nor so light as ethereal bodies, but after a manner separated from both, or mingled from both, whether they are removed from, or are modified by, the participation of each. They will, however, be more easily conceived, if they are admitted to be mingled from both, than if they are said to be mingled with neither. These bodies of daemons, therefore, will have a little weight, in order that they may not proceed to supernal natures ; and they will also have something of levity, in order that they may not be precipitated to the realms beneath. And, that 1 may not seem to you to devise incredible things, after the manner of the poets, I will give you, in the first place, an example of this equiponderant mediocrity. For we see that the clouds coalesce, in a way not much different from this tenuity of body ; and if these were equally as light as those bodies which are entirely without weight, they would never crown the summit of a lofty mountain with.

Λ PU LEI US OS THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

as it were, certain bent chains, being· depressed beneath its vertex, as we frequently perceive they do. Moreover, if they were naturally so dense and ponderous that no admixture, of a more active levity, could elevate them, they would certainly strike against the earth, by their own effort, no otherwise than a rude mass of lead and a stone. Now, however, being pendulous and moveable, they are governed in different directions by the winds in the sea of air, in the same manner as ships, suffering some little variation by their proximity and remoteness ; for, if they are prolific with the moisture of water, they are depressed downward, as if delivering a feetus into light. And on this account clouds that are more moist descend lower, in a black troop, and with a slower motion; but those that are serene ascend higher, like fleeces of wool, in a white troop, and with a more rapid flight; or have you not heard what Lucretius most eloquently sings concerning thunder [in his sixth book] :

The azure heavens by thunders dire are shook,

Because th’ ethereal clouds, ascending high,

Dash on each other, driven by adverse winds.

But if the clouds fly loftily, all of which originate from, and again flow downward to, the earth, what should you at length think of the bodies of daemons, which are much less dense, and therefore so much more attenuated than clouds? For they are not conglobed from a feculent nebula and a tumid darkness, as the clouds are, but they consist of that most pure, liquid, and serene element of air, and on this account are not easily visible to the human eve, unless they exhibit an linage of themselves by divine command. For no terrene solidity occupies in them the place of light, so as to resist our perception, since the energies of our sight, when opposed by opaque solidity, are necessarily retarded ; but the frame of their bodies is rare, splendid, and attenuated, so that they pass through the rays of the whole of our sight by their rarity, reverberate them by their splendour, and escape them by

their subtility. From hence is that Homeric Minerva, who was present in the midst of the assembly of the Greeks, for the purpose of repressing the anger of Achilles. If you wait a little, I will enunciate to you, in Latin, the Greek verse [in which this is mentioned by Homer], or rather let it be now given. Minerva, therefore, as I have said, by the command of Juno, was present, in order to restrain the rage of Achilles,

Seen by him only, by the rest unseen <1.

From hence also is that Juturna in Virgil, who had intercourse with many thousands of men, for the purpose of giving assistance to her brother,

. With soldiers mingled, but bv none perceived r.

Entirely accomplishing that which the soldier of Plautus5 boasted of having effected by his shield,

Which daziled by its light the vision of his foes.

And that I may not prolixly discuss what remains, poets, from this multitude of dm mo n s, are accustomed, in a way by no means remote from truth, to feign the Gods to be haters and lovers of certain men ; and to give prosperity and elevation to these ; but on the contrary, to be averse from and afflict those. Hence, they are influenced by pity, are indignant, solicitous, and delighted, and sutler all the mutations of the human soul ; and are agitated by all the ebullitions of human thought, with a similar motion of the heart, and tempest of the mind1. All which storms

s In the original, prorsus quod Plautinus miles, &c.; but Lipsius and the Delphin editor, for prorsus quod, read pot ins quant . It does not, however, appear to me that any emendation is requisite; or that their alteration is an amendment.

1 According to the ancient theology, the lowest orders of those powers that are the perpetual attendants of the Gods, preserve the characteristics of their leaders, though in a partial and multiplied manner, and are called by their names. Hence, the passions of the subjects of their government are, in fables, proximately referred to these. See the Introduction to the second and third books of the Republic, in vol. i. of my Plate.

APULEIUS OX THE COD OF SOCRATES.

and tempests are far exiled from the tranquillity of the celestial Gods. For all the celestials always enjoy the same state of mind, with an eternal equability : which in them is never driven from its proper seat, either towards pleasure or pain. Nor are they removed by any thing, from their own perpetual energy, to any sudden habitude ; neither by any foreign force, because nothing is more powerful than deity ; nor of their own accord, because nothing is more perfect than themselves.

Moreover, how can he appear to have been perfect, who migrates from a former condition of being to another which is better? Especially since no one spontaneously embraces any thing new, except he despises what he possessed before. For that altered mode of acting cannot take place, without the debilitation of the preceding modes. Hence, it is requisite that God should neither be employed in giving temporal assistance, or be impelled to love ; and, therefore, he is neither influenced by indignation nor by pity, nor is disquieted by any anxiety, nor elated by any hilarity ; but is liberated from all the passions of the mind, so that he never either grieves or rejoices, nor wills, nor is averse to any thing subitaneousu. But all these, and other things of the like kind, properly accord with the middle nature of daemons x. For as they are media between us and the Gods, in the place of

u “ Divinity,” says Sallust (in chap. xiv. of his treatise on the Gods and the World) “neither rejoices; for that which rejoices is also influenced by sorrow : nor is angry ; for anger is a passion : nor is appeased by gifts; for then he would be influenced by delight. Nor is it lawful that a divine nature should be well or ill affected from human concerns : for the divinities are perpetually good and profitable, but are never noxious, and ever subsist in the same uniform mode of being. But we, when we are virtuous, are conjoined with the Gods through similitude : but when vicious, we are separated from them through dissimilitude. And while we live according to virtue, we partake of the Gods, but when w'e become evil, we cause them to become our enemies ; not that they are angry, but because guilt prevents us from receiving the illuminations of the Gods, and subjects us to the power of avenging daemons.”

x Ί his, however, applies only to the lowest order of daemons.

their habitation, so likewise in the nature of their mind * having immortality in common with the Gods, and passion in common with the beings subordinate to themselves, bor they are capable, in the same manner as we are, of suffering all the mitigations or incitements of souls; so as to be stimulated by anger, made to incline by pity, allured by gifts, appeased by prayers, exasperated by contumely, soothed by honours, and changed by all other things, in the same way that we are. Indeed, that I may compiehend the nature of them by a definition, daemons aie in their genus animals, in their species rational, in mind passive, in body aerial, and in time perpetual. Of these five characteristics which I have mentioned, the three hist are the same as those which we possess, the fouith is peculiar to them, and the last is common to them with the immortal Gods, from whom they differ in being obnoxious to passion. Hence, as I think, daemons are not absurdly denominated passive, because they are subject to tne same perturbations that we are. On which account, also, it is requisite to believe in the different observances of religions, and the various supplications employed in sacred rites. Inere are, likewise, some among tins number or Gods who rejoice in victims, or ceremonies or rites, which are nocturnal or diurnal, obvious or occult, more joyful or more sad. Thus the Egyptian deities are almost all of them delighted with lamentations, the Grecian for the most part with choirs, but the Barbarian with the sound produced by cymbals, drums, and pipes. In like manner, other things pertaining to sacred rites differ by a great variety, according to different regions; as, for instance, the crowds of sacred processions, the arcana of mysteries, the offices of priests, and the compliances of those that sacrifice ; and farther still, the effigies of the Gods, and the spoils dedicated to them, the religions and situations of temples, i and the variety of blood and colour in victims. All which particulars are rightly accomplished, and after the accustomed manner, if they are effected appropriately to the

regions to which they belong. Thus from dreams, predictions, and oracles, we have for the most part found that the divinities have been indignant, if any thing in their sacred rites has been neglected through indolence or pride ; of which kind of things I have an abundance of examples. They are, however, so celebrated, and so generally known, that no one would attempt to relate them, without omitting much more than he narrated. On this account, I shall desist at present from speaking about these particulars, which if they are not believed by all men, yet certainly a promiscuous knowledge of them is universal. It will be better, therefore, to discuss this in the Latin tongue, viz. that various species of daemons are enumerated by philosophers, in order that you may more clearly and fully understand the nature of the presage of Socrates, and of his familiar daemon.

The human soul, therefore, even when situated in the present body, is called, according to a certain signification, a daemon.

O say, Euryalus, do Gods inspire In minds this ardour, or does fierce desire Rule as a God in its possessor’s breast y?

For if this be the case, the upright desire of the soul is a good daemon. Hence, some persons think, as we have before observed, that the blessed are called ευδαιμονες, eudamones , the d&mon of whom is good, i. e. w'hose mind is perfect in virtue. You may call this daemon in our tongue, according to my interpretation, a Genius, I know not whether rightly, but certainly at my peril ; because this God [or daemon], who is the mind of every one2,

y These verses are taken from book ix. of the iEneid.

2 4‘ The soul,” says Proclus in his Commentary on the First Alcibiades, “ that, through its similitude to the daemoniacal genus, produces energies more wonderful than those which belong to human nature, and which suspends the whole of its life from daemons, is a daemon κατα σ-χεσ-ιν, according to habitude (i. e. proximity or alliance). But an essential daemon is neither called a daemon through habitude to Secondary natures, nor through an assimilation to something different

APULEIUS OX THE GOD OF SOCRATES. 307

though it is immortal, nevertheless, is after a certain manner generated with man ; so that those prayers by which we implore the Genius , and which we employ when we embrace the knees [genua] of those whom we supplicate, appear to me to testify our connexion and union ; since they comprehend in two words the body and mind, through the communion and copulation of which we exist. There is also another species of daemons, according to a second signification, and this is a human soul, which, after its departure from the present life, does not enter into another body. I find that souls of this kind are called in the ancient Latin tongue Lemures. Of these Lemures, therefore, he who, being allotted the guardianship of his posterity, dwells in a house with an appeased and tranquil power, is called a familiar for domestic] Lar. But those are for the most part called Larva, who, having no proper habitation, are punished with an uncertain wandering, as with a certain exile, on account of the evil deeds of their life, and become a vain terror to good, and are noxious to bad men. And when it is uncertain what the allotted condition is of any one of these, they call the God by the name of Manes; the name of God being added for the sake of honour. For they alone call those Gods, who being of the same number of Lemures , and having governed the course of their life justly and prudently, have afterwards been celebrated by men as divinities, and are every where worshipped in temples, and honoured by religious rites ; such for instance as Amphiaraus in Boeotia, Mopsus in Africa, Osiris in Egypt, and some other in other nations, but Esculapius every where. All this distribution, however, was of those daemons, who once existed in a human body3.

from himself; but is allotted this peculiarity from himself, and is defined by a certain summit, or flower of essence, by appropriate powers, and by different modes of energies/7

a Those human souls that descend into the regions of mortality with impassivity and purity, were called by the ancients heroes , on account of their great proximity and alliance to such as are essentially heroes, and

308 APULEIUS ONr THE (JOD OF SOCRATES.

But tliere is another species of daemons, more sublime and venerable, not less numerous, but far superior in dignity, who, being always liberated from the bonds and conjunction of the body, preside over certain powers. In the number of these are Sleep and Love, who possess powers of a different nature ; Love, of exciting to wakefulness, but Sleep of lulling to rest. From this more sublime order of daemons, Plato asserts that a peculiar daemon is allotted to every man, who is a witness and a guardian5 of his conduct in life, who, without being visible to any one, is always present, and who is an arbitrator not only of his deeds, but also of his thoughts. But when, life being finished, the soul returns [to the jud ges of its conduct], then the daemon who presided over it immediately seizes, and leads it as his charge to judgment, and is there present with it while it pleads its cause. Hence, this daemon reprehends it, if it has acted on any false pretence ; solemnly confirms what it says, if it asserts any thing that is true ; and conformably to its testimony passes sentence. All you, therefore, who hear this divine opinion of Plato, as interpreted by me, so form your minds to whatever you may do, or to whatever may be the subject of your meditation, that you may

are die perpetual attendants of the Gods. These heroes called themselves by the names of the divinities from whom they descended, and by whose peculiarities their energies were characterized. When, however, through the corruption of the heathen religion, these heroes were no longer reverenced in an appropriate manner, but the worship of the Gods was transferred to them, the proper distinction between their essence and that of the divinities was confounded ; and from this that most dire opinion that the Gods of the ancients were nothing more than men who once existed on the earth, derived its origin. See more on this subject in the Introduction to my translation of Proclus on the Theology of Plato.

b According to Plato, our guardian daemons belong to that order of daemons, which is arranged under the Gods that preside over the ascent and descent of souls. Olympiodorus in his Commentary on the Phaedo of Plato observes, u that there is one daemon who leads the soul to its judges from the present life; another who is rninistrant to the judges, giving completion, as it were, to the sentence which is passed; and a third, who is again allotted the guardianship of life.’'

know there is nothing concealed, from those guardians either within the mind, or external to it ; but that the daemon who presides over you inquisitively participates of all that concerns you, sees all things, understands all things, and in the place of conscience dwells in the most profound recesses of the mind0. For he of whom I speak is a

c In the original, in ipsis perilissimis mentibus rice conscientiw diversetur. This is a most remarkable passage, since it perfectly accords with what Olympiodorus says of our allotted daemon, in his Scholia on the First Alcibiades of Plato, and contains a dogma concerning this dannon, which is only to he found explicitly maintained in these Scholia. But the words of Olympiodorus are as follow : Καί ταυτα μεν οι εζηγηται πεξΐ τε δαιμονών καί ειληγοτ ων' ημείς δε συμζιζαστικως τοις ΐΐαμυσι ταυτα πείξασομεθα διεξελθειν' καί γαξ Ί,ωκξατους κωνιον κατε·^η<γισθη, ως καινα δαιμ,ονια τοις νεοις εισηγουμενου και 5εους νομίζοντας, ους η πόλις ονγ^ ηγείτο 2τεους. ξητεον ουν ειλη'χοτα δαίμονα το συνειδος υπα^γειν , οπεξ ακξον αωτον εστ ι της -\.υ·χης και αναμαξτητον εν nu.iv, και ακλινης δικαστής, και μ.αρ τυς των ενταύθα γινομένων τω Μινοϊ και τω Ϋαδαμανθυ'ΐ. τοντο δε και σωτηξίας ημιν αίτιον γίνεται , ως αναμαξτητον αει διαμενον εν ημιν και μη συγκατα·\.η$ιζομενον τοις υπο της 4*υχνς αμαξτανομενοις ,

αλλα και ανιλλομεν ον ει η τουτοις , και επιστε<§ον αυτήν πμς το δέον. το σι >νειδος

ουν ειληχοτα καλών δαίμονα ουκ αν αμαξτοις. ιστεον δε , οτι του συνειδοτος , το μεν ετ τι ταις γνωστ ικαις ημών δυναμεσι λεγεται συνειδος ομωνυμως τω γενει. i. e. “ This is what is said by the interpreters [of Plato] concerning daemons, and those which are allotted to us. We, however, shall endeavour to discuss these particulars in such a way as to reconcile them with what is at present said by Plato; for Socrates was condemned to take poison, in consequence of introducing to young men novel demoniacal powers, and for thinking those to be Gods which were not admitted to be so by the city. It must be said, therefore, that the allotted dasmon is conscience , which is the supreme fiower of the soul, is guiltless in us, is an inflexible judge, and a witness to Minos and Ithadamanthus of the transactions of the present life. This also becomes the cause to us of our salvation, as always remaining in us without guilt, and not assenting to the errors of the soul, but disdaining them, and converting the soul to what is proper. You will not err, therefore, in calling the allotted deemon conscience. But it is requisite to know that, of conscience, one kind pertains to our gnostic powers, and which is denominated conscience {cointelligence') homonymously with the genus.” In this passage, as Creuzer, the editor of these Scholia, well observes, something is wanting at the end ; and a part of what is deficient, I conceive to be the words, το δε επι ταις ζωτικαι<ς, i. e. but another kind to our vital powers; for the great division of the powers of the soul is into the gnostic and vital.

310 APULKIUS ON THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

perfect guardian, a singular prefect, a domestic speculator, a proper curator, an intimate inspector, an assiduous observer, an inseparable arbiter, a reprobater of what is

The singularity in this dogma of Olympiodorus, respecting our allotted dcemon, is, that in making it to he the same with conscience, if conscience is admitted to be a part of the soul, the dogma of Plotinus must also be admitted, “ that the whole of our soul does not enter into the body, but that something belonging to it always abides in the intelligible world.” But this dogma appears to have been opposed by all the Platonists posterior to Plotinus ; and Proclus has confuted it in the last proposition of his Elements of Theology ; for he there demonstrates, i( that every partial soul, in descending into generation [or the sublunary realms], descends wholly; nor does one part of it remain on high, and another part descend.” But his demonstration of this is as follows: “ For if something pertaining to the soul remained on high, in the intelligible world, it will always perceive intellectually, without transition, or transitively. But if without transition, it will be intellect, and not a part of the soul, and this partial soul will proximately participate of intellect [i. e. not through the medium of daemoniacal and divine souls]. This, however, is impossible. But if it perceives intellectually with transition, from that which always, and from that which sometimes, energizes intellectually, one essence will be formed. This, however, also is impossible; for these always differ, as has been demonstrated. To which may be added, the absurdity resulting from supposing that the summit of the soul is always perfect, and yet does not rule over the other powers, and cause them to be perfect. Every partial soul, therefore, wholly descends.” Hence, if Olympiodorus w-as likewise hostile to this dogma of Plotinus, it must follow, according to him, that conscie?ice is not a part of the soul, but something superior to it, and dwelling in its summit. Perhaps, therefore, Olympiodorus on this account calls the allotted daemon, ακζον αωτον τνς the supreme

flower of the soul. For the summit, or the one of the soul, is frequently called by Platonic writers, το άνθος , the flower, but not ακ^ον άνθος , the supreme flower ; so that the addition of supreme will distinguish the presiding daemon from the summit of. the soul. The place in which this dogma of Plotinus is to be found, is at the end of his treatise on the Descent of the Soul.

I only add, that the celebrated poet Menander appears to have been the source of this dogma, that conscience is our allotted daemon ; for one of the Excerptae from his fragments is,

Βροτοις ατηχιτιν v (nmioncric $εος.

I

i. e. “ To ev’ry mortal conscience is a God.” ,

evil, an approver of what is good ; and if he is legitimately attended to, sedulously known, and religiously worshipped, in the way in which he was reverenced by Socrates with justice and innocence, will be a predictor in things uncertain, a premonitor in things dubious, a defender in things dangerous, and an assistant in want. He will also be able, by dreams, by tokens, and perhaps also manifestly, when the occasion demands it, to avert from you evil, increase your good, raise your depressed, support your falling, illuminate your obscure, govern your prosperous, and correct your adverse circumstances. It is not therefore wonderful, if Socrates, who was a man exceedingly perfect, and also wise by the testimony of Apollo, should know and worship this his God; and that hence, this his keeper, and nearly, as I may say, his equal, his associate and domestic, should repel from him every thing which ought to be repelled, foresee what ought to be noticed, and pre-admonish him of what ought to be foreknown by him, in those cases in which, human wisdom being no longer of any use, he was in want, not of counsel, but of presage ; in order that when he was vacillating through doubt, he might be rendered firm through divination. For there are many things, concerning the development of which even wise men betake themselves to diviners and oracles. Or do you not more clearly perceive in Homer, as in a certain large mirror, these two offices of divination and wisdom distributed apart from each other? For when those two pillars of the whole army were discordant, Agamemnon powerful in empire, and Achilles invincible in battle, a man praised for his eloquence and renowned for his skill was wanting, who might humble the pride of the son of Atreus, and repress the rage of Pehdes, and who might engage their attention by his authority, admonish them by examples, and allure them by his words. Who, therefore, at such a time undertook to speak? The Pylian orator, who was courteous in his eloquence, cautious through experience, and venerable by his age ; who was known by all to have a body debilitated by time.

X

but a mind flourishing in wisdom, and words abounding with sweetness.

In like manner, when in dubious and adverse circumstances, spies are to be chosen, who may penetrate into the camps of the enemy at midnight, are not Ulysses and Diomed selected for this purpose, as counsel and aid, mind and hand, spirit and sword? But when the Greeks, ceasing from hostilities through weariness, and being detained in Aulis, applied themselves to explore the difficulty of the war, the facility of the journey, the tranquillity of the sea, and the clemency of the winds, through the indications of fibres, the food administered by birds, and the paths of serpents d; then those two supreme summits of Grecian wisdom, Ulysses and Nestor, were mutually silent; but Calchas, who was far more skilful in divination, as soon as he had surveyed the birds, and the altars, and the tree, immediately by his divination appeased the tempests, brought the fleet into the sea, and predicted the ten years’ war. No otherwise also in the Trojan army, when the affairs require divination, that wise senate is silent, nor either Hicetaon, or Lampus, or Clytius, dares to assert any thing; but all of them listen in silence, either to the odious auguries of Helenus, or to the neverto-be-believed predictions of Cassandra. After the same manner Socrates, if at any time consultation foreign from the province of wisdom was requisite, was then governed by the prophetic power of his daemon. But he was sedulously obedient to his admonitions, and on that account was far more acceptable to his God.

The reason, however, has been after a manner already assigned, why the daemon of Socrates was nearly accustomed to prohibit him from w7hat he was going to undertake, but never exhorted him to the performance of

d Apuleius here alludes to the serpent which at Aulis, in the presence of the Greeks, ascended into a plane tree, and devoured eight little sparrows together with their mother. Whence Calchas prophesied that the Trojan war would last nine years, but that the city would be captured in the tenth year. See the Iliad, lib. li. v. 300.

any deed. For Socrates, as being a man of himself exceedingly perfect, and prompt to the performance of all the duties pertaining to him, never was in want of any exhorter ; but sometimes required a prohibiter, if danger happened to be latent in any of his undertakings ; in order that, being admonished, he might be cautious, and omit for the present his attempt, which he might either more safely resume afterwards, or enter upon in some other way. In things of this kind, he said, “ That he heard a certain voice which originated from divinity.” For thus it is narrated by Plato ; lest any one should think that Socrates assumed omens from the conversation of men in common. For once also, when he was with Phtedrus, beyond the precinct of the town, under the covering of a certain umbrageous tree, and without any witnesses, he perceived that sign which announced to him that he should not pass over the small current of the river Ilissus, till he had appeased Love, who was indignant at his reprehension of him, by a recantation6. To which may be added, that, if he had observed omens, he would sometimes also have received some exhortations from them, as we see frequently happens to many of those, who, through a too superstitious observance of omens, are not directed, by their own mind, but by the words of others ; and in wandering through the streets, gather counsel from what is said by passengers, and, as I may say, do not think with the understanding, but with the ears.

Nevertheless, in whatever manner these things may take place, it is certain that those who hear the words of diviners, frequently receive a voice through their ears, concerning the meaning of which they are not at all dubious ; and which they know proceeds from a human mouth. But Socrates did not simply say that he heard a voice, but a certain voice , divinely transmitted to him. By which addition, you must understand, that neither a usual nor a human voice is signified ; for if it had been a thing of this kind he would not have said a certain voice ,

e See njy translation of the Phaedrus of Plato.

but rather either merely a voice, or the voice of some one, as the harlot in Terence says,

I seemed just now to hear a soldier’s voice f.

But he who says that he heard a certain voice, is either ignorant from whence that voice originated, or is somewhat dubious concerning it, or shows that it contained something unusual and arcane, as Socrates did in that voice, which he said was transmitted to him opportunely and divinely. And, indeed, I think, that he perceived the indication of his daemon, not only with his ears, but also with his eyes ; for he frequently asserted that not a voice, but a divine sign, was exhibited to him. That sign might also have been the resemblance of his daemon, which Socrates alone beheld, in the same manner as the Homeric Achilles beheld Minerva. I am of opinion, that the greatest part of you will with difficulty believe what I have now said, and will wonder in the extreme at the form of the daemon which was seen by Socrates alone. But Aristotle, whose authority is, I think, sufficient, asserts, that it was usual with the Pythagoreans very much to admire, if any one denied that he had ever seen a daemon. If, therefore, the power of beholding a divine resemblance may be possessed by any one, why might it not, in an eminent degree, befall Socrates, whom the dignity of wisdom rendered similar to the most excellent divinity? For nothing is more similar and more acceptable to God, than a man intellectually good in perfection, who as much excels other men as he himself is surpassed by the immortal Gods. Should not we also rather elevate ourselves by the example and remembrance of Socrates? And should we not deliver ourselves to the felicitous study of a similar philosophy, and pay attention to similar divinities ? From which study we are drawn away, though I know not for what reason. Nor is there any thing which excites in me so much wonder, as that all men should desire to live most happily, and should know that they cannot so live in any other way than by cultivating the

1 This verse is from the Eunuch of Terence.

mind, and yet leave the mind uncultivated. If, however, any one wishes to see acutely, it is requisite that he should pay attention to his eyes through which he sees ; if you desire to run with celerity, attention must be paid to the feet, by which you run ; and thus also, if you wish to be a powerful pugilist, your arms must be strengthened, through which you engage in this exercise. In a similar manner, in all the other members, attention to each must be paid in the place of study. And, as all men may easily see that this is true, I cannot sufficiently think with myself, and admire, in such a way as the thing deserves to be admired, why they do not also cultivate their mind by [right] reason : for this art of living [i. e. according to right reason] is equally necessary to all men ; but this is not the case with the art of painting, nor with the art of singing, which any worthy man may despise, without any mental vituperation, without turpitude, and without a blemish [in his reputation]. I know not how to play on the flute like Ismenias, yet I feel no shame that I am not a piper : I know not how to paint in colours like Apelles, nor to carve like Lysippus, but I am not ashamed that I am neither a painter nor a statuary. But say, my friend, I know not how to live with rectitude, as Socrates, as Plato, as Pythagoras lived, and yet I feel no shame that I know not how to live rightly. You will never dare to say this.

It is, however, especially admirable in the multitude, that they should neglect to learn those things of which they are by no means desirous of appearing to be ignorant, and reiect, at one and the same time, both the discipline and ignorance of the same art. Hence, if you examine their daily conduct, you will find that they are prodigally profuse in other things, but bestow nothing on themselves, I mean, in a proper attention to their daemon, which proper attention is nothing else than the sacrament of philosophy. They build, indeed, magnificent villas, most sumptuously adorn their houses, and procure numerous servants ; but in all these, and amidst such great affluence, there is nothing to be ashamed of but the

316 APULF.IUS ON THE GOD ΟΓ SOCRATES.

master of this abundance : and deservedly ; for they have an accumulation of things to which they are devoted, but they themselves wander about them, unpolished, uncultivated, and ignorant. Hence you will find the forms of those buildings, in which they idly waste their patrimony, to be most pleasing to the view, most exquisitely built, and most elegantly adorned. You will also see villas raised, which emulate cities, houses decorated like temples, most numerous servants, and those with curled locks, costly furniture, every thing exhibiting affluence, opulence, every where, and every thing ornamented, except the master himself, who alone, like Tantalus, being needy and poor in the midst of his riches, does not indeed pant after that fugitive river, nor endeavour to quench his thirst with fallacious water, but hungers and thirsts after true beatitude, i. e. after a genuine *, prudent, and most fortunate life. For he does not perceive that it is usual to consider rich men in the same way that we do horses when we buy them ; for in purchasing these we do not look to the trappings, nor the decorations of the belt, nor do we contemplate the riches of the most ornamented neck, and examine whether variegated chains, consisting of silver, gold, or gems, depend from it; whether ornaments full of art surround the head and neck ; and whether the bridles are carved, the saddles are painted, and the girths are gilt; but, all these spoils being removed, wre survey the naked horse itself, and alone direct our attention to his body and his soul, in order that we may be able to ascertain whether his form is good, and whether he is likely to be vigorous in the race, and strong for carriage. And in the first place we consider whether there is in his body,

A head that’s slender, and a belly small,

A back obese, and animated breast

In brawny flesh luxuriant h.

And, besides this, whether a twofold spine passes through

In the original, sccwida vita ; but I read, with the Roman edition, sincera vita.

b These verses are taken from book iii. of the Georgies of Virgil.

bis loins; for I wish that he may not only carry me swiftly, but also gently.

In a similar manner therefore, in surveying men, do not estimate those foreign particulars, but intimately consider the man himself, and behold him poor, as was my Socrates. But Ϊ call those things foreign which parents have procreated, and which Fortune has bestowed, none of which do I mingle with the praises of my Socrates ; no nobility, no pedigree, no long series of ancestors, no envied riches ; for all these, as I say, are foreign. When you say, O son of Prothanius, the glory of him who was this son is this, that he was not a disgrace to his grandson, in like manner you may enumerate every thing of a foreign nature. Is he of noble birth? You praise his parents. Is he rich? I do not trust in Fortune; nor do I rank these, more [than their contraries], among things really good. Is he strong? He will be debilitated by disease. Is he swift in the race? He will arrive at old age. Is he beautiful? Wait a little, and he will not be so. But is he instructed, and very learned in excellent disciplines, and also wise, and skilled in the knowledge of good, as much as it is possible for man to be ? Now at length you praise the man himself; for this is neither an hereditary possession from his father, nor depends on Fortune, nor on the annual suffrages of the people, nor is it decaying through body, nor mutable by age. All these my Socrates possessed, and therefore despised the possession of other things. Why therefore do not you apply yourself to the study of wisdom? Or at least you should earnestly endeavour that you may hear nothing of a foreign nature in your praise ; but that he who wishes to ennoble you, may praise you in the same manner as Accius praises Ulysses, in his Philoctetes, in the beginning of that tragedy :

Fam’d hero, in a little island born,

Of celebrated name and powerful mind,

Once to the Grecian ships war’s leading cause,

And to the Dardan race th’ avenger dire,

Son of Laertes.

318 APULE1US ON THE GOD OF SOCRATES.

lie mentions his father in the last place. Moreover, you have heard all the praises of that man ; but Laertes, Anticlea, and Acrisius, vindicate to themselves nothing from thence ; for the whole of this praise, as you see, is a possession peculiarly pertaining to Ulysses. Nor does Homer teach you any thing else in the same Ulysses, by always giving him Wisdom as a companion, whom he poetically calls Minerva. Hence, attended by this, he encounters all horrible dangers, and vanquishes all adverse circumstances. For, assisted by her, he entered the cavern of the Cyclops, but escaped from it ; saw the oxen of the Sun, but abstained from them ; and descended to the realms beneath, but emerged from them. With the same Wisdom also lor his companion, he passed by Scylla, and was not seized by her ; was enclosed by Charybdis, yet wras not retained by it ; drank the cup of Circe, and was not transformed ; came to the Lotophagi, yet did not remain with them; and heard the Sirens, yet did not approach to them1.

1 The concluding part of this treatise on the God of Socrates has a great resemblance to the conclusion of the dissertation of Maximus Tyrius, entitled, Whether there is a Sect in Philosophy , according to Homer ? and which is as follows : u And with respect to Ulysses himself, do you not see how virtue, and the confidence which he acquires through her aid, preserve him, while he opposes art to all-various calamities ? This is the moly in the island of Circe, this is the fillet in the sea, this delivered him from the hands of Polyphemus, this led him up from Hades, this constructed for him a raft, this persuaded Alcinous, this enabled him to endure the blows of the suitors, the wrestling with Irus, and the insolences of Melanthius. This liberated his palace, this avenged the injuries of his wife, this made the man a descendant of Jupiter, like the Gods, and such a one as the happy man is according to Plato.” See my translation of Maximus Tyrius,

APULEIUS

ON THE

HABITUDE OF THE DOCTRINES

OF THE

BOOK THE FIRST.

ON NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.

Habitude of body gave a surname to Piato ; for he was first called Aristocles ; and his father is said to have been Aristo. Moreover, Perictione, the daughter of Glaucus, was his mother; and from both his nobility was very illustrious. For his father Aristo drew his origin from Neptune through Codrus ; and his maternal blood was derived from the most wise Solon, who was the founder of the Attic laws. There are also those who relate that Plato descended from a more august conception, since a certain spectre of Apollo had connexion with Perictione2.

a The like account of the divine origin of Plato is also given by Plutarch, in book viii. of his Sympcsiacs, and by Olympiodorus, in his Life of Piato, by whom also this affair is thus related : “ They say, that an Apolloniacal spectre had connexion with his mother Perictione, and that, appearing in the night to Aristo, it commanded him not to sleep with Perictione during the time of her pregnancy; which mandate Aristo obeyed.” In my translation of this Life, which is prefixed to my Plato, the following remarks were made by me on this passage : u However extraordinary this circumstance may appear, it is nothing more than one of those mythological relations in which heroes are said to have Gods for

320 APULEIUS OX THE DOCTRINES OF THE

He was likewise born in the month which is called bv the

J

Athenians Thargelion [i. e. April] ; and on the same day in which Latona is said to have brought forth Apollo and Diana, in the island Delos. AVe learn that Socrates was born the day before him. An admirable dream also of Socrates is related ; for he appeared to himself to have seen the offspring cf a swan fiy from the altar, which in the Academy is sacred to Cupid, and seat itself in his breast; and that afterwards that swan extended its wings towards the heavens, alluring the ears both of men and Gods by its harmonious voice. While Socrates was

their fathers, or Goddesses for their mothers ; and the true meaning of it is as follows: according to the ancient theology, between those perpetual attendants of a divine nature, called essential heroes, who are impassive and pure, and the bulk of human souls who descend to earth with passivity and impurity, it is necessary there should be an order of human souls who descend with impassivity and purity. For as there is no vacuum, either in incorporeal or corporeal natures, it is necessary that the last link of a superior order should coalesce with the summit of one proximately inferior. These souls were called by the ancients terrestrial heroes, on account of their high degree of proximity and alliance to such as are essentially heroes. Hercules, Pythagoras, Plato, &c. were souls of this kind, who descended into mortality, both to benefit other souls, and in compliance with that necessity by which all natures, inferior to the perpetual attendants of the Gods, are at times obliged to descend.”

But as, according to the arcana of ancient theology, every God beginning from on high produces his proper series, as far as to the last of things, and this series comprehends many essences, different from each other, such as demoniacal, heroical, nymphical, and the like; the lowest powers of these orders have a great communion and physical sympathy with the human race, and contribute to the perfection of all their natural operations, and particularly to their procreations. “ Plence (says Prod us in Cratylum) it often appears that heroes are generated from the mixture of these powers with mankind ; for those that possess a certain prerogative above human nature are properly denominated heroes .” He adds : “ Not only a daemoniacal genus of this kind sympathizes physically with men, but other kinds sympathize with other natures, as nymphs with trees, others with fountains, and others with stags or serpents.” See more on this interesting subject, in the notes to my translation of Pausanias, vol. iii. p. 229, £cc.

narrating this dream to an assembly of men, Aristo brought the boy Plato to the master Socrates [as a pupil]. And as soon as Socrates beheld him, and saw from his outward form what the recondite nature was of his mind, he said, “ This, O my friends, was the swan which flew from the altar of Cupid in the Academy .”

Plato therefore being such a man b, and produced by such parents, not only surpassed the virtues of heroes, but also possessed powers which resembled those of the Gods. For Speusippus, who was enabled to speak of him from domestic documents, praises the acuteness of his genius in learning when he was a boy, and the admirable modesty of his disposition, and asserts that the first period of his adolescence was imbued with labour and the love of study, and testifies that there was an increase of these and other virtues in him when he was a man. Glauco and Adimantus were also his brothers from the same parents. In the first elements of literature he had for his master Dionysius ; but in wrestling he was instructed by the Argive Aristo, in which exercise he made such a proficiency, that he contended in wrestling in the Pythian and Isthmian games. He likewise did not despise the art of painting0. He rendered himself capable of writing tragedies and dithyrambics d. And now, being elated

b Among the wisest of the Greeks (says Ficinus) there was a proverb that Plato had three eyes ; one by which human, another by which natural, and a third by which divine concerns were surveyed by him, which last eye was in his forehead, the others being under it.” “ Inter prudentissimos Grascorum natum est proverbium, Platonem habuisse tres oculos, unum quo humana, alium quo naturalia, alium quo divina suspiceret, qui in fronte esset, cum alii sub fronte fuerint.”

c Agreeably to this also Olympiodorus says, u that Plato was con- [ versant with painters, from whom he learned the mixture of colours, of | which he makes mention in the Timaeus.”

d u Plato (says Olympiodorus) betook himself to the tragedians, who at that time were celebrated as the preceptors of Greece, on account of the sententious and venerable nature of tragic composition, and the heroic sublimity of the subjects. He was likewise conversant with

Y

322 Λ PU LEI US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

with confidence in [the goodness of] his verses, he would have professed himself a contender in tragedy, if Socrates had not expelled from his mind that abject desire, and inserted in him the love of true renown. And at first, indeed, he had been imbued with the doctrines of Heraclitus ; but, when he had given himself to Socrates, lie not only surpassed the other Socratics in acuteness and learning, but also illustrated by labour and elegance the wisdom which he had received from Socrates; by labour, in his endeavours to vindicate it, and by elegance, in adding greatly to its dignity, by the gracefulness and majesty of his words. But, after the death of Socrates, when he had explored from whence he should make a further proficiency, he betook himself to the discipline of Pythagoras. And though he . saw it was furnished with accurate and magnificent doctrine, yet he was more desirous of imitating the Pythagorean abstinence and chastity.

Because, likewise, he perceived that the genius of the Pythagoreans was assisted by other disciplines, he went to Theodorus, the Cyrenean, that he might learn geometry, and to Egypt for the purpose of being instructed in astronomy, and also that he might become acquainted with the rites of the prophets. He also came again to Italy, and was a follower of the Pythagoreans, Eurytus, the Tarentine, and the senior Archytas. And he intended to have gone to the Indians and the Magi, but was pre-

dithyrarnbic writers, with a view to the honour of Bacchus, who is called by the Greeks the inspective guardian of generation [i. e. of the whole of a visible nature]; for the dithvrambic measure is sacred to Bacchus, from whom also it derives its name; Bacchus being Dithyrambus, as proceeding into light from two avenues , the womb of Semele, and the thigh of Jupiter ; for the ancients were accustomed to call effects by the names of their causes, as in the name Dithyrambus given to Bacchus. Hence Proclus observes,

With their late offspring parents seem to mix.

But that Plato applied himself to dithyrambics is evident from his Phsedrus, which plainly breathes the dithyrambic character, and is said to have been the first dialogue which Plato composed.”

vented at that time from carrying his intention into effect by the Asiatic war6. Hence, having diligently applied himself to the discoveries of Parmenides and Zeno, he so filled his writings with the dogmas of all these men, each of which is admirable, that he was the first who united philosophy, so as to make it a whole, consisting of three parts, and demonstrated that those parts are alternately necessary to each other, and that they are so far from opposing, that they afford each other mutual assistance. For though these members of philosophy were taken by him from different sources, viz. the natural from the Heraclitean, the intellectual from the Pythagorean, and the moral from the fountain itself of Socrates, yet he formed one body from all these, which was, as it were, his proper offspring. Since, likewise, the leaders of these sects of philosophy delivered their dogmas to their auditors in a rude and unfinished state, he rendered them both perfect and admirable, through polishing them by [scientific] reasoning, and investing them with the most graceful garb of august diction. Many of his auditors of each sexf flourished in philosophy. The patrimony

e u As Plato wished to converse with the Magi (says Olympiodorus), but was prevented by the war which at that time broke out in Persia, he went to Phoenicia, and, meeting with the Magi of that country, he was instructed by them in magic. Hence, from his Timaeus, he appears to have been skilful in divination ; for he there speaks of the signs ol the liver, of the viscera, and the like.’'

f This too is confirmed by Olympiodorus, who says : u Plato allured very many to philosophical discipline, preparing men, and also women in a virile habit, to be his auditors, and evincing that his philosophy deserved the greatest voluntary labour. For he avoided the Socratic irony, nor did he converse in the Forum, and in workshops, nor endeavour to captivate young men by his discourses. Add too, that he did not adopt the venerable oath of the Pythagoreans, their custom ol keeping their gates shut, and their ipse dixit , as he wished to conduct himself in a more political manner towards all men.77

Two women particularly, in a virile habit, are said to have been the auditors of Plato, viz. Lathsbenia, the Mantinensian, and Axiothia, the Philaseusian.

Λ Ρ U L Ε I U S ON Τ II Ε DOCTRINES Ο F Τ Η Ε

which he left consisted of a small garden, joining to the Academy, two servants, a bowl from which he made libations to the Gods, and only as much gold as he wore in his ear when he was a boy, as an indication of his nobility. Moreover, certain malignant persons revile his three journeys to Sicily, in consequence of not properly discriminating the different opinions on this subject. But he first went to Sicily for the sake of [natural] history, that he might know the nature of Etna, and of the burning eruptions of that concave mountain. His second journey was undertaken at the request of Dionysius, in order that he might assist the Syracusans, and that he might learn the municipal laws of that province. And by his third journey he restored Dion to his country from which he was flying, having obtained his pardon from Dionysius.

We shall here, however, begin to narrate what ordinances (which in Greek may be called δόγματα, dogmas), he delivered for the advantage of mankind, and also what were his doctrines pertaining to the conduct of life, to intellection, and enunciation. For because he was the first who asserted that the three parts of philosophy accorded with each other, we shall also discuss each of these separately, beginning from natural philosophy. Plato therefore thought that there were three principles of things, God, matter, and the forms of things, which he calls ideas, and which are incomplete, not yet formed, and not distinguished by any species, or signification of quality5. But the following were his opinions of God, that [in the first place], he is incorporeal. For he says, “ That he alone is uncircumscribed, and the generator of things, attracting all things to himself, blessed, and

5 What is here said is only applicable to forms in their ultimate participations by material subjects, and when the participations subsist in these subjects spermatically, and are not yet evolved into a distinct and specific existence. For forms or ideas, according to their first subsistence in a divine intellect, are themselves perfect, as being the sources of perfection to other things.

PHI L O SOPHY OF PLATO. BOOK I.

beatific, most excellent, in want of nothing, and himself imparting all things.” He likewise asserts, te That he is celestial, ineffable, and incapable of being named, and in his own words, άρρητον, ακα,τωνο μαστόν ; whose nature it is difficult to discover, and when found cannot be enunciated to many.” These are the words of Plato : It is difficult to discover God , and impossible zchen found to enunciate him to the multitude h. But he says, “ That matter is ingenerable

h This, however, is said by Plato, in the Timaeus·, of the Demiurgus or Jupiter, who is not the highest God. For the supreme principle of all things is celebrated by him in the Parmenides as perfectly ineffable. For he there says of this principle, which he denominates the one , “ That it can neither be named, nor spoken of, nor conceived by opinion, nor known, nor perceived by any being.” But Jupiter the Demiurgus is said by Plato to be partly ineffable and partly effable. With Plato also, as well as with Orpheus and Homer, there are various orders of Jupiter; but with all of them there is but one supreme principle. Thus with Plato and Orpheus, the Jupiter who is the Demiurgus subsists at the extremity of the intellectual order of Gods; but the Jupiter who is coarranged with Neptune and Pluto, subsists in the super-mundane order, which immediately follows the intellectual order. And there is likewise a Jupiter among the απόλυτοι, or liberated Gods, who constitute that divine order which is next to the super-mundane, and is immediately situated above the mundane order of Gods. This order is called by the Chaldean ideologists azonic. (See my collection of Chaldean Oracles, in the Classical Journal). The Jupiter who is the Demiurgus, and also the super-mundane Jupiter, are celebrated by Homer. “ For Homer (says Proclus in Cratylum) following Orpheus, celebrates Jupiter [i. e. the Demiurgus], as the common father of Gods and men, as leader and king, and as the supreme of rulers.” He also says “ That ali the multitude of mundane Gods is collected about him, abides in, and is perfeoted by him. For all the mundane Gods are converted to Jupiter through Themis,

Ζευς δε Θε/χιατα κελευσ-ε θεούς, αγοράν δε ααλίσσαι

— «δ’ αρα παντη

<poiT*uracra κελευσ-ε Αιος τ τρος δαγκα νίεσθαι. Iliad, XX. ν. 4.

i. e. u But Jupiter orders Themis to call the Gods to council; and she directing her course every where, commands them to go to the house of Jupiter.” This Jupiter, however, is separate and exempt from all mundane natures ; whence also the most total and leading of the other Gods, though they appear to have in a certain respect equal authority with Jupiter, through a progression from the same causes, yet call him

and incorruptible, that it is neither fire, nor water, nor any one of the elements or perfect principles ; but that it is the first of all things, capacious of figures, and subject to formation ; and that God the artificer fashioned the whole of it, while it was yet rude, and deprived of the quality of figuration.” And he calls it infinite, because it has a boundless magnitude. For that which is infinite has an indistinct termination of magnitude1; and hence, since it is without bound, it may very properly seem to be indefinite. He neither admits, however, that it is corporeal, nor indeed incorporeal. But he does not think that it is body, because every body possesses a certain form. And it cannot be said to be without body, because nothing incorporeal exhibits the appearance of body ; but he says, “ That it may be considered as corporeal in capacity only, and when viewed with the eye of reason.” Hence, its existence cannot be apprehended by its sensible energies alone, nor yet by opinion alone. For bodies, on account of their remarkable evidence, may be known by a similar

father. For both Neptune and Juno celebrate him by this appellation. And though Juno speaks to him as one who is of the same order; we are three brothers from Saturn, whom Rhea bore, Jupiter and I, and the third is Pluto, who governs the infernal realms yet Jupiter is called father by both these divinities; and this, because he comprehends in himself the one impartible cause of all fabrication ; is prior to the Saturnian [or super-mundane triad], connectedly contains the three fathers [Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto], and comprehends on all sides the vivification of Juno.

The super-mundane Jupiter is likewise indicated by Homer in Iliad, XIII., when, speaking of Neptune and Jupiter, he says,

Αλλα Ζευς προτεξος γεγονει και πλειονα jiSVi. ν. 355.

“ But Jove was born the first, and more he knows.”

This line is so much in the Orphic style that, through a lapse of memory, I quoted it in the Classical Journal as an Orphic verse, being led into this mistake through the Index Homericus of Ernestus, in which there is no reference to it whatever.

1 Matter is infinite, because it is of itself indefinite and formless ; but forms are the bounds of matter.

[i. e. by a manifest] perception. But things which have not a corporeal evidence, can alone be perceived by the discursive energies of reason k. Hence, also, the ambiguous nature of matter can only be apprehended by adulterated opinion1. But ideas, i. e. the forms of all things, are simple and eternal, yet not corporeal. From the number of these, however, those which divinity assumed, are the exemplars of things which are, or will be ; and among these exemplars, there cannot be more than one archetype of each species. The forms likewise and figures of every thing that is generated, are stamped after the manner of wax with the impression of those exemplars™.

He also says, “ That there are two essences, through which all things and the world Ttself are generated; one of which is alone conceived by the energies of reason, but the other may be the subject of sensible inspection.” That essence, however, which is comprehended by the eyes of the mind, is always found to subsist with invariable sameness, to be equal and similar to itself, and to be that which truly is. But the other essence, which he says rises into existence, and perishes, is to be apprehended by sensible and irrational opinion. And as the former is said to have a true and real subsistence, so it may be asserted of the latter that it does not truly exist. The first

k In the original cogitationibus, which is equivalent to τνς διάνοιας ενίξγζιαις, all the Latin writers translating διανοια , cogitatio ; which is by no means an accurate translation ; but in so doing they followed Cicero.

1 See my translation of Plotinus on Matter, and on the Impassivity of Incorporeal Natures, in which the nature of matter is most divinely unfolded.

m The participations of intellectual forms are assimilated to the representations in a mirror, to the impressions of a seal in wax, and to icons, whether effected by the painter’s, or the plastic, or any other art. Each of these, however, is imperfect considered hy itself, and incapable of exhibiting the whole truth respecting this participation. But each, though it touches on the truth, is found to be deficient. See the mode in which this participation is effected, most admirably developed by

APU LEXUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

substances also, or essences, are, God, intellect11, the forms of things, and soul. But the second essences are all the things that are formed from the first, which are generated, and which derive their origin from their exemplar of the superior essence. These also are capable of being changed and converted, are of a decaying nature, and fugacious like a river. Further still, that intelligible essence of which I have spoken, because it is firmly established, causes every thing which is predicated of it to be full of stable reason, and [incontrovertible] faith. But of the sensible essence, which is, as it were, the shadow and image of the former essence, the reasonings also, and the language employed in speaking of it, are of an unstable nature.

Plato likewise asserts, u That matter is the principle of all bodies, and that it is stamped with the impression of forms.” Hence, the first elements, fire and water, earth and air, are generated. Which if they are elements ought to be simple, and not copulated like syllables by a mutual connexion ; which happens to be the case with those things, the essence of which consists of a manifold coalition of powers. And these being without order, and

n In the original, Et prima quidem substantia vel essentia primitm Deum esse, et mcntem formasque rerum , et animam. But the Delphin editor is of opinion, that for mentern here we should read materiem , because the manuscript of Thuanus had matiem , and because otherwise the repetition of animam would be unnecessary, and matter would be improperly omitted, in enumerating the principles of things.

All this, however, shows that this editor was profoundly ignorant of the philosophy of Plato. For according to that philosophy, matter does not rank among the first, but among the last essences, and is nothing more than the dregs of the first. Nor is soul the same with intellect, and therefore there is no repetition in saying mentern et animam. And in short, Apuleius here enumerates vyhat Plotinus, and all the Platonists posterior to him, denominate τξει ς αςχιχαι υποσίασίΐς, or the three hypostases that rank as principles, viz. τ αγαθόν, νους, Ί-νχη, the good, intellect,, and soul. For the forms of things or ideas are resident in intellect, and have no existence out of it, considered according to their primary and not their participated subsistence.

confusedly mixed, are disposed into order, and bounded by number and measure by that God who is the fabricator of the world. These from many elements were reduced to one thing. And fire, indeed, air, and water, derived their origin and principle from the [scalene] triangle, whose angles are not equal to those of a rightangled triangle. But earth was produced from rightangled triangles, two of the sides of which are equal0. And three species indeed were produced from the former figure, viz. the pyramid, the octaedron, and the icosaedron p. The sphere and the pyramid contain in themselves the figure of fire ; but the octaedron was destined to be the figure of air, and the icosaedron of water. The rightangled isosceles triangle produces from itself a square, and the square generates from itself the cube, which is the figure peculiar to earth. Hence, Plato assigns the moveable form of the pyramid to fire, because the celerity of the one appears to be similar to the agitation of the other. The octangular sphere [i. e. the sphere consisting of octaedrons], ranks as the second in velocity ; and he assigned this figure to air, which is the second after fire in levity and velocity. The twenty-angled sphere [or the sphere consisting of icosaedrons], ranks in the third place; and the form of this, which is fluid and voluble, appeared to be more similar to water. The figure consisting of cubes remains, which, because it is unadapted to motion, is not incongruously attributed to the stability of earth.

Plato says that other principles may also be found,

0 According to Plato, there are two principles of all the elements, viz. the isosceles triangle, which is adapted to the generation of earth, and the scalene, which is the principle of the three elements, fire, air, and water. See my translation of the Timseus of Plato.

p In the original, Et prioris quidem formcc tres species existere , pyramidem , octangulam , et vigintiangnlum. As the octaedron therefore consists of eight, and the icosaedron of twenty equilateral triangles, but the former has only six solid angles, and the latter only twelve, — either Apuleius erroneously interprets these two regular bodies : or because angle is, as it were, the element of triangle, he calls the one octangular, and the other vigintiangular.

which are known either to divinity, or to the man who is dear to the Gods. But these visible bodies of animals, and of inanimate natures, consist of the first elements, fire and water, air and earth, severally joined together. The whole world, likewise, was produced from all water, all fire, the whole of air, and all earth ; and not only no part of these is left external to the universe, but likewise * no power which the world possesses can be found out of it. But these elements are from themselves, adapted and connected within themselves. And hence, there is an analogy between fire and air, water and earth q [by which they are connected together] ; so that as fire is united to air by alliance, in like manner water is by affinity conjoined to earth. Hence, likewise, the world is one, and all things are contained in it ; nor is any place left in which there might be another world, nor do any elements remain, from which the body of another world might be formed. In addition to these things also, perpetual youth, and incorruptible health, were imparted to it. On this account, nothing was left external to it, by which its nature might be corrupted. And even though something of this kind had remained, it could not have injured it; since it was so constituted and arranged within itself in every part, that things of an hostile and contrary nature should have no power to injure its nature and order. Hence, by the fabricating divinity, the figure of a beautiful and perfect sphere was imparted to the most perfect and beautiful world, in order that it might not be indigent of any thing, but that it might contain all things, covering and comprehending them in itself ; and might be excellent and admirable, similar to, and in concord with itself. Hence, also, since it contains these seven local motions, viz. progression and regression, to

In the original, Idcircoque in igne , terra et aqua , et aere esse situm , in which for sit urn, I conceive we should read analogiam . This will be evident from a perusal of the Timaeus of Plato, from which all that is here said by Apuleius is derived, indeed this is manifest from what immediately follows.

the right hand and to the left, upward and downward, and the motion of bodies that revolve in a circle ; removing: from the world the six former, he alone left to it a circular motion, as peculiarly adapted to wisdom and prudence. And at one time, indeed, he says, u That the world is without a beginning ; but at another, that it has an origin, and was generated.” But he asserts, u That there was no beginning and origin of it, because it always had an existence ; and it appears to have been generated, because the nature and essence of the universe consists of things which are allotted the quality of being generated, or rising into existence.” Hence, too, the world is tangible and visible, and is obvious to the corporeal senses. Because, however, God was the cause of its generation, on this account it will always exist with an immortal duration1·. But the soul of all animals is not corporeal, nor will perish when liberated from the body ; and it is also more ancient than every thing which is generated. On this account, it predominates and rules over those things of which it is allotted the providential charge ; and it is always moved, and moved by itself, and is the source of motion to other things, which are naturally immoveable and sluggish. But that celestial soul which is the fountain of all souls, and is most excellent and most wise, is the producing cause of the virtues, and is, according to Plato, subservient to God the fabricator, and prepared to execute all his commands.

The essence, however, of this intellect [i. e. of this soul], consists of numbers and modes, the augments being doubled and multiplied, and the increments being obtained both by themselves and extrinsically : and hence it comes to pass that the world is moved musically and melodiously. There are also two natures [or essences] of things. And

r Because the world was immediately produced by the Demiurgus, it has a perpetual duration ; for that which proceeds without a medium from an eternal nature, must be perpetual. Hence, in the Timaeus, the Demiurgus says to the junior Gods, “ Whatever is generated by me is indissoluble , such being my will in its fabrication.”

A PU LEI US ON THE DOCTRINES OK THE

of these, one pertains to tilings which may be seen by the eyes, and touched by the hand, and which Plato calls doxastic [or the object of opinion] ; but the other is the object of intellect, and is dianoetic and intelligible. For pardon must be granted to novelty of words, when it serves to illustrate the obscurity of things. And the former nature indeed is mutable and easily to be perceived ; but the latter, which is seen by the piercing eye of intellect, and is known and conceived by the acute energy of the reasoning power, is incorruptible, immutable, stable, and invariably and perpetually the same. Hence, also, he says. That there is a twofold method of interpretation [pertaining to them]. For that visible nature is known by a fortuitous suspicion, and which is of no long duration ; but this intelligible essence is demonstrated to exist, by true, perpetual, and stable reasoning. But time is the image of eternity ; since time is moved, but the nature of eternity is firm and immoveable. Time also proceeds to eternity, and may be terminated or dissolved in its immensity ; if at any time this should be decreed by God the fabricator of the world. By the spaces likewise of the same time, the measures of the mundane convolution may be understood. For this is effected by the orbs of the sun and moon, and by the other stars, which we improperly call errant and wandering. For our opinions and discussions respecting their courses may lead the intellect into error.

Moreover, that disposer of things so constituted the revolutions of these [divine bodies], their risings and settings, retrogressions, stations, and progressions, that no place might be left for even the smallest error. For days, together with nights, gave completion to the spaces of months ; and, vice versa , months unfolded the circles of years. Nor could times become the subject of computation, till these stars began to shine with celestial light ; for the observation also of this computation would perish, if this ancient choir of stars should at any time stand still. For in order that the measures and revolutions of times

might be known, and that the convolutions of the world might be visible, the light of the sun was enkindled ; and, vice versa , the opacity of night was invented, in order that animals might obtain the rest which they [naturally] desire. Month likewise was produced, when the moon, having completed the revolution of her orb, returns to the same place from whenc£ she departed. And the spaces of the year were terminated when the sun had passed through the four vicissitudes of the seasons, and arrived at the same signs. And the numeration of these circulations, returning into, and proceeding from, themselves, was discovered by the exercise of the reasoning power. Nevertheless, there are certain circuits of the stars, which perpetually observe a legitimate course, but which the sagacity of men can scarcely comprehend. Whence it comes to pass, that what is called the great year cannot easily be known4; the period of which is

These four vicissitudes are the first points of Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn, in which the vernal equinox, the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox, and the winter solstice, are produced.

1 In the original, “ Unde fit ut et magnus file vocitatus annus facile noscatur,” but it is evident, that we should read u non facile noscatur.” “ For the knowledge of this period is obtained by assuming (says Proclus in Tim. p. 248, vol. ii. of my translation,) the accurate apocatastasis ( i . e. regression to the same sign) of the moon, and in a similar manner of the sun, and then adding the one to the other, and afterwards adding to these the apocatastases of Mercury and the other planets ; and in the last place, the apocatastasis of the inerratic sphere, to the one common apocatastasis of the planets. After this manner they (i. e. mathematicians) speak, if the apocatastic times compared with each other are primary. But if they are not primary, then, assuming a common measure, they see according to what numbers this measures each of the given apocatastic times, and by the number by which it measures the less of these times they multiply the greater, but by the number by which it measures the greater they multiply the less ; and thus they have from both multiplications the common time of the apocatastasis of both, and which also is measured by both.”

This period, which comprehends in itself many myriads of years, is called by Plato in the Gorgias the whole of time ; and soul that have committed the greatest crimes are said by him to be punished through the whole of this period. For thus his meaning in asserting that souls

334 APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF Till·

completed when the choir of the wandering stars have arrived at the same boundary, and have restored to themselves a new beginning, and new journeys through the paths of the world.

Of the celestial globes, however, which are mutually connected with each other, that is the supreme of all of them, which is said to proceed with an inerratic course, and the rest are comprehended in its embrace. And the first order, indeed, is inerratic, the second is given to Saturn, the third to Jupiter, Mars possesses the fourth, the fifth is attributed to Mercury, the sixth pertains to Venus, the seventh is inflamed by the journeys of the sun, and the moon measures the eighth. All the remaining spaces are occupied by the elements and [sublunary] principles. Of these, also, fire possesses the highest place, next to it is the place of air, that of water succeeds to this, and then the globe of the earth is equally and

that have committed the greatest crimes are punished τ ον an χξονον, for ever, is interpreted by Oiympiodorus in MS. Scholia on that dialogue. But what Oiympiodorus says, is as follows : “What then are we to understand bv the ever ? We reply, there are seven spheres, that of the moon, that of the sun, and those of the other planets ; but the inerratic is the eighth sphere. The lunar sphere, therefore, makes a complete revolution more swiftly ; for it is accomplished in thirty days. That of the sun is more slow: for it is accomplished in a year. That of Jupiter is still slower : for it is effected in twelve years. And much more that of Saturn : for it is completed in thirty years. The stars, therefore, are not conjoined with each other in their revolutions except rarely. Thus, for instance, the sphere of Saturn and the sphere of Jupiter are conjoined with each other in their revolutions, in sixty years. For if the sphere of Jupiter comes from the same to the same in twelve years, but that of Saturn in thirty years, it is evident that when Jupiter has made five, Saturn will have made two revolutions : for twice thirty is sixty, and so likewise is twelve times five; so that their revolutions will be conjoined in sixty years. Souls, therefore, are punished for such like periods. But the seven planetary spheres conjoin their revolutions with the inerratic sphere, through many myriads of years ; and this is the period which Plato calls τον an χξονον, for ever, or the zohole of time. And souls that have been patricides or matricides, and universally souls of this description, are punished during this period.”

immoveably situated in the middle place. These fires of the stars also, being fixed in spheres, proceed in perpetual and unwearied courses, and are called by Plato animal Gods. But the nature of the spheres consists of, and was fabricated from, fire u. Moreover, the genera of animals are divided into three species ; and of these, one consists of the nature of fire, such as we perceive the sun and moon to be, and the other stars. But the second consists of the quality of air, of which also Plato says [the bodies of] daemons consist. And the third species coalesces from water and earth, and from these the mortal genus of bodies is divided into the terrene and terrestrial [or pedestrious] ; for Plato is of opinion that χοϊκά , or pulverable natures, should thus be called. And the terrene genus, indeed, is that of trees and other fruits, which live fixed in the earth ; but the terrestrial natures are those which the earth nourishes and sustains.

Plato also says, that there are three species of Gods ; the first of which is that one and alone supreme God, who is super-mundane and incorporeal, and whom we have above shown to be the father and architect of this divine world. Another species of Gods is such as the stars possess, and the other divinities whom we denominate celestials. And the third species consists of those whom the ancient Romans call Medioxumi , because they are inferior to the supreme Gods, in their essence, in place, and in power, but are indeed naturally superior to men. All things, however, which are moved naturally, and on that account rightly, are under the guardian government of Providence, nor can the cause of any evil be ascribed to God. Hence Plato does not think that all things are to be referred to the decrees of Fate; for he thus defines: Providence is a divine decision, preservative of the pros-

u Each of these spheres contains the summits of all the elements, but in each fire predominates. This fire, however, is of an unburning and vivific nature. See the Introduction to my translation of the Tiimeus of Plato, and my translation of Proclus on the Tincueus.

perity of that for the sake of which it engages in such an employment; but Fate is the divine law, through which the inevitable conceptions and undertakings of God are accomplished. Hence if any thing is effected by Fate, that also is accomplished by Providence ; but that which is completed by Providence must not be considered to be likewise effected by Fate x.

And in the first place, indeed. Providence pertains to the supreme and most excellent of all the Gods, who not only gave an orderly distribution to the celestial Gods, whom he dispersed through all the members of the world, for its preservation and ornament, but also produced Gods, who are by their nature mortal y, who might excel in wisdom other terrene animals, and whose duration might be endless. Having likewise established his own laws, he delivered to the other Gods the regulation and preservation of things which must necessarily be daily effected. Hence those Gods to whom a secondary providence pertains, so firmly retain the providential office, which it is incumbent on them to perform, that every thing; which is exhibited to mortals from the heavens preserves the immutable state in which it was arranged

x In the original, “ Uncle si quid Providentia geritur, id agitur etiam Fato; et quod Fato terrainatur, Providentia debet susceptum videri.” But Apuleius, in asserting “ that if any thing is effected by Providence, it is also accomplished by Fate,” makes the power of Fate to be equal to that of Providence, contrary to what he had just before asserted, and perfectly contrary to the doctrine of Plato, according to which the kingdom of Providence is superior to that of Fate; so that whatever is effected by the latter is also, by a much greater priority, effected by the former, but not vice versa. Hence I read, conformably to the above translation, u Unde si quid Fato geritur, id agitur etiam Providentia : sed quod Providentia terminatur, non debet Fato susceptum videri.” For the energies of superior extend farther than those of inferior powers.

y i. e. The junior Gods, who are participated souls, and on this account are not primarily immortal, because they have not immortality from themselves. Hence they are both mortal and immortal. See my Proclus on the Timseus, p. 319.

by the paternal God. But Plato thought that daemons, whom we may call Genii and Lares, were ministrant to the Gods, the guardians of men, and also their interpreters, in what they wish to obtain from the Gods. He likewise is of opinion that all things are not to be referred to the power of Fate ; but that there is souiething which is in our power, and something also which depends on Fortune. And he confesses, indeed, that the unlooked-for casualties of Fortune are not known by us : for something unstable and occurrent is accustomed to intervene in things which were undertaken with counsel and meditation, and which does not suffer what was intended to arrive at the desired end. And when, indeed, that impediment terminates usefully, then the thing itself is denominated felicity ; but where those obstacles are of a noxious nature, the thing is called infelicity.

Of all terrene natures, however, Providence produced nothing more excellent than man. Hence the same Plato rightly asserts that the soul of man has dominion over the body. But as, according to him, there are three parts of the soul, he says, that rationality, i. e. the best part of the soul, occupies the citadel of the head ; but that the irascible part is situated in the mansion of the heart, remote from reason, to which it is obedient, conforming itself to wisdom when requisite ; and that desire and appetite, which form the last part of the soul, possess the lowest seats of the belly, which are as it were certain taverns, Slatent privies, and inns of wickedness and luxury. This fjjpart of the soul, however, appears to have been far reimoved from wisdom, lest, by its troublesome vicinity, it should disturb the useful energies of reason, supernally intent on the safety of all the parts. But the whole man consists in the head and face ; for prudence, and all the senses, are not contained in any other part of the body, since the other members are ministrant and subservient do the head, supplying the body with food, and other I things that are requisite.

The head also was placed in the highest part, as the

338 A PULE I US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

lord and ruler of the body, which by the providential attention of the head is defended from danger. But the organs with which the senses are furnished, for the purpose of perceiving and forming a judgment of quantities and qualities, are likewise situated in the palace of the head, in the vicinity of reason, for the purpose of assisting the truth of intellection and sensation. The senses, however, being aptly formed by nature to the perception oi sensibles, possess an intelligence which is allied to them. And, in the first place, the two orbs of the eyes are transparent, and being resplendent with a certain visual light, are occupied in the knowledge of light. But the hearing, which participates of an aerial nature, perceives sounds by the assistance of aerial messengers. With respect, however, to the taste, the sensations of it are of a laxer nature, and on this account are more adapted to humid and aqueous substances. The touch also, which is terrene and corporeal, perceives all such solids as are tangible and may be felt. There is likewise a separate perception of those things, which when corrupted are changed. For nature constituted the nostrils in the middle region of the face, through the two passages of which odour, accompanied by exhalation, proceeds. But conversions and mutations impart the causes of smelling, and these are perceived from corrupted, or burnt, or mouldy, or moist substances, when they are exposed to the air, and are exhaled by vapour or smoke. After this follows the judgment and sensation of odour in these; for if substances are entire, and the air is pure, such exhalations are never infectious. And these senses, indeed, are common to us with other animals. The sagacity, however, of men is better furnished, and more increased, through a divine benefit of this kind, because it possesses a more excellent hearing and sight. For through his eyes man measures the heavens, and comprehends the circulations, and risings, and settings of the stars, and their aspects, together with their significations ; from whence the most beautiful and most abundant fountain of philosophy flows

forth. But what gift could be bestowed on man more magnificent than the hearing, through which he may learn prudence and wisdom, and may measure the numbers of speech, and give modulation to it, and may himself become wholly harmonious in measure and number! To the tongue also was added the barrier of teeth, and the gracefulness of the mouth, which was imparted indeed to other animals, for the purpose of administering to the necessity of food, and procuring aliment for the belly. But the mouth was given to man that it might be the storehouse of right reason and the sweetest speech, in order that language might educe those sentiments which

O Cj O

prudence had conceived in the heart.

The habit, also, and form of the whole body are remarkable. And of the members, some have a most excellent, but others a far worse condition ; but the inferior are governed by the excellency of the superior, and the former are ministrant to the nutrition of the body. Lastly, all the members, from the feet as far as to the shoulders, are obedient to the head. Moreover, the enclosures of the eyebrows defend the eyes from any thing falling from the part above them, which might disturb their tender and delicate vision. The lungs very much benefit the heart, both by their situation and nature ; for when anger is inflamed, and the vertex of the heart palpitates with more rapid motions, then the lungs afford it respiration and remission, by their softness, dryness, and frigidity. But Plato says, that the spleen is not in vain situated near to the liver, in order that it might relieve its exuberance by participating its moisture and wiping away whatever is impure, and thus render it pure and uncorrupt; a thing fj which is especially advantageous to divination by the viscera2. The belly is environed by the spiral folds of ! the intestines, and entangled by their connexions, in order that esculent and poculent substances may not

z For, according to Plato in the Timseus, the liver is the instru· mental cause of dreams, visions, and divination.

340 A PU LEI US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

immediately escape, but that, being detained for a while, they may of themselves afford utility and succour to animals; for, lest what is introduced into the belly should be exhausted and glide away, there is a necessary and incessant desire of food, and we are compelled to be occupied in this one thing by day and by night. rihe bones are covered with flesh, and are through ligaments bound to each other. Nevertheless, those parts which are the messengers of sensible perception [i. e. the instruments of the senses] are so covered with flesh, in order that the senses might not be blunted by their crassitude. Those parts also which are connected by junctures and ligaments, for the purpose of moving themselves with more celerity and ease, are not impeded by much flesh. In the last place, survey the vertex of the head itself, and vou will see that it is covered with a thin skin, and

rough with hair, as a defence against the power of heat and cold.

Those members, however, are fat, which labour subdues ; such, for instance, as the thighs in that part by which we sit. And what shall I say of the food itself [z. e. of the chyle], which the passages proceeding from the belly, and annexed to the fibres of the liver, disperse, when it is changed into the form of blood, in order that sagacious nature may from thence deduce it through all the members ? But the passages of the veins [i. e. of the arteries] originate directly from the heart, and transfer through the spiracles of the lungs the vital spirit which they received from it, and again being distributed from that place through the members, supply with the vital spirit the whole body of the man. Hence arise those receptions and emissions of breathing, which are alternate, lest they should impede each other by their reciprocal encounters. The qualities, however, of those veins [ i . e. arteries] are different, which proceed directly from the neck, through the inward parts of the kidneys, for the purposes of procreation, and which it is certain are received in the place where the groin is situated, and again.

PHILOSOPHY 01 PLATO.

depart from thence, as the generative seminary of human nature.

But when Plato says that the whole body consists of various substances, he is of opinion that it is composed, in the first place, of fire and water, and the other elements ; in the next place, of similar parts of flesh, bone, blood, and the rest of such like parts ; and, in the third place, of dissimilar and different members, i. e. of the head, the belly, and dissimilar joints. Hence also the substance which consists of the simple elements, if that which is necessary to life is externally supplied, in such a way as is adapted to the nature of each particular, preserves in this case the quality and temperament of the body ; but increases the strength of such parts as consist of similars, and nourishes the beauty of those which, as we before observed, are dissimilar to each other. At the same time likewise that equality of the moist and the dry, the hot and the cold, imparts health, strength, and beauty; just as that badly-tempered and immoderate mixture, both of particulars and generals, being vitiated, corrupts the animal by a rapid death.

Plato also says, that the soul is tripartite ; and that the first part of it is reason ; the second anger, or irritability; and the third appetite, which we may likewise call cupidity. But health, strength, and beauty, are then present with the animal, when reason governs the whole soul ; when the two inferior parts are obedient to it, and anger and cupidity, being concordant with each other, desire nothing, and excite nothing, which reason judges to be useless. When the parts of the soul are thus attempered to equability, the body is not subdued by any perturbation. But when the parts are inordinate and unequal among themselves, then they introduce to the body disease, debility, and deformity ; viz. when cupidity subdues and subjugates to itself the irascible part and reason ; or when anger, being more fierce, vanquishes reason, that mistress and queen, though cupidity is obe-

APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES, &C.

client to her, and is quiet. He also says, that the disease of the soul is folly, and this lie divides into two parts ; one of which he denominates ignorance, but the other insanity. He adds, that the disease of ignorance arises from superb boasting, when a man falsely pretends to be learned in, and to have a scientific knowledge of, things of which he is ignorant ; but that fury usually happens from depraved custom and a libidinous life ; and that this is called insanity, which the vicious quality of the body manifests, when those things which are prepared to be subservient to reason, in the head, are prevented from being so by unseasonable compression. He likewise says, that man is then perfect, when the soul and body are equally conjoined, accord with, and correspond to, each other; so that the strength of the mind is not inferior to the prevailing powers of the body. But the body is then increased by natural augmentations, when the salubriously procured portion of health never exceeds the quantity of necessary food ; nor health is crushed by the magnitude of external labours, nor by the burden of food, either immoderately introduced, or not digested and distributed through the body in such a way as is requisite. For then the joints and the members retain the measure and force of their proper vigour, when that which is introduced for the preservation of the whole body is distributed into all the parts, so as to be equally adapted to each. But when this by no means takes place, the destruction of the body follows.

APULEIUS

ON THE

HABITUDE OF THE DOCTRINES

I

OF THE

BOOK THE SECOND.

ON MORAL PHILOSOPHY.

Q son Faustinus, the summit of moral philosophy is the knowledge of the methods by which it is possible to arrive at a blessed life. And I will show you how this life, which is the end of [human] good, is to be obtained, according to Plato. He asserts, therefore, that of good a, one kind is transcendently excellent and primary, but that the other kinds are good through participation. And those things which are primarily good, are the supreme God, and that intellect which he calls nous. After these, those kinds of good subsist, which flow from the fountain of the former, and these are the virtues of the soul, viz. prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude; but prudence among all these is pre-eminent. He ranks temper-

a For a copious and accurate account, not only of the ethical, but also of the cathartic, or purifying, and theoretic virtues, see my translation of Select Works of Plotinus. But what is here said by Apuleius, concerning the ethical virtues, is for the most part taken from the Republic and Law's of Plato.

344 A I’U LEI US OX THE DOCTRINES OF THE

ance as the second to this in number and power ; justice follows these ; and fortitude is the fourth, lie also considers this to be the difference in the kinds of good, that some are essentially divine, primary, and simple ; but others are human, and must not be conceived to be the goods of all things. But human good consists of those things which alone pertain to certain persons, which accord with the advantages of the body, and which we denominate externals. And these to the wise, and to those who live conformably to right reason, are posterior to good ; but are necessarily evil to the stupid, and to those who are ignorant of their proper use. The first good also is true, and is that divine, most excellent, lovely, and desirable good, the beauty of which allures all rational souls, to the love of which they are instinctively impelled, nature herself being the leader of this impulse. And because all men do not possess the power of obtaining this primary good, they tend to that good which is human. The second good is neither common to many, nor is indeed similarly good to all. For the appetite and desire of accomplishing a certain thing is incited either by true or by apparent good. Hence, to that part of the soul which accords with reason, there is naturally a certain alliance with [real] good.

Moreover, Plato thought accidental good to be that which is conjoined with the body, and with things which externally accede. He also was of opinion, that he who is naturally impelled to the pursuit of good, was not only born for himself, but likewise for all men ; and this, not in an equal or similar manner, but that every one should be a friend to his country in the first place, afterwards to his parents, and, in the third place, to those who are connected with him by a necessary familiarity, or by acquaintance. That man, from his very origin, was produced neither absolutely good nor evil ; but that he was naturally inclined to both ; and that he has certain seeds of each of these, conjoined with his essence originally, and which, through the discipline of education, necessarily

shoot forth into one of these. Hence the .masters of children ought to be principally attentive to this, that their pupils may be lovers of virtue, or that they may be so completely imbued with morals and disciplines, that they may learn to govern and be governed by ruling Justice. On this account it is principally requisite so to instruct them, that they may know that the things which are to be pursued are excellent and beautiful, but those which are to be avoided are base and deformed; and that the former are attended with pleasure and praise, but the latter with disgrace and inherent vileness ; and also, that we ought confidently to desire that good which is truly excellent.

Three kinds also of natural disposition are comprehended in the doctrine of Plato ; one of which he calls excellent and rare ; the second he denominates most evil, and the worst: and the third is considered by him to be of a middle nature, and to be moderately mingled from both the others. And he is of opinion, that a docile child, and a man who is proceeding to a temperate life, and who is tractable and eleg;anf in his manners, participate of this mediocrity. For he says that media of this kind intervene between the virtues and vices, as a certain third thing, from which some actions are laudable, and others reprehensible. Between immutable science likewise and ignorance, he places two kinds of opinion, the one true, but the other false b, which is characterised by a vain pervicaciousness ; and between chastity and a libidinous like,

b In the original, Inter scientiam validam , alteram falsam perni - caciae v unit at e j act at am. But here, as the Delphin editor well observes, something seems to be wanting; and he thinks that what is.'deficient will be supplied by reading, Inter ignorantiam , et scientiam validam, alteram [scientiam] fulsam, &c. False science , however, is an expression which has no place in the philosophy of Plato ; but, instead of it, that philosophy uses, the phrase false opinion, when speaking of erroneous conceptions of things. I conjecture, therefore, that we should read, conformably to the above translation, Inter scientiam validam et igno~ rant i am, constiluit duplicem opinioncm , unam veram , alteram falsam, &c.

lie arrange^ abstinence and temperance. He also makes shame and cowardice to be the media between fortitude and fear. For with respect to those men whom he considered to be in a state of mediocrity, he thought they neither possessed genuine virtue, nor yet vice pure and unmingled, but mingled from what is excellent and what is base. But he says, That wickedness of the worst kind pertains to the man who is imbued with every vice ; and that this takes place, when the best and rational part of the soul, which ought to govern the other parts, is subservient to them ; and anger and lust, those leaders of the vices, predominate over reason, which is then in subjection to them.

Moreover, he says, that this wickedness consists of different things, viz. of excess and deficiency. And he not only thought that it was defective through the vice of inequality, but that it was also oppressed by dissimilitude. For it is not possible for that to accord with goodness, which in so many ways is discordant with itself, and not only exhibits in itself inequality, but also incongruity. Hence, he says, that the three parts of the soul are oppressed by three vices. For the rational part is opposed by indocility, which does not introduce the abolition of science, but is contrary to the discipline by which knowledge is acquired. We likewise learn from him, that of this indocility there are two species, ignorance and fatuity; of which, ignorance is found to be hostile to science, and fatuity to prudence. But the irascible part is opposed by audacity. And the attendants on this are indignation, and incommobility , which is called in Greek αοξγησ-ioc, or a disposition incapable of being excited to anger. For I should thus denominate that which does not extinguish the incitements of anger, but fixes them in an immoveable stupor. With the desires also, he connects luxury, i, e. the appetite of pleasure, and principally of the voluptuous kind, and an insatiable longing after the possession and enjoyment of the objects of desire. From this, avarice and lascivious-

ness emanate ; of which the one restrains liberality, but the other dissipates patrimonial possessions, by superfluous effusion.

Plato, however, says, “ That virtue is a habit of the mind formed in the best and noblest manner, and which renders him in whom it faithfully resides, concordant with himself, and with other things, peaceful, and stable, not in words only, but also in deeds.” But this will be more easily accomplished, if reason, being established on the throne of its kingdom, perpetually keeps desire and anger tamed and fettered ; and they become so obedient to it, that it may tranquilly discharge its proper employment. He likewise says, “ That virtue is uniform, because that which is good of its own accord is not in want of support, and that which is perfect ought to be content with itself alone.” Nor quality only, but similitude likewise, is conjoined with the nature of virtue. For it so accords with itself in every part, that from itself it is adapted to, and corresponds with itself. Hence, also, he calls the same virtues both media and summits ; not only because they are without redundancy and deficiency, but because they are after a certain manner situated in the middle of the vices. For fortitude is surrounded by audacity on one side, and by timidity on the other; since audacity indeed is produced from an abundance of confidence ; but fear is a vice arising from a deficiency of audacity.

Of the virtues also, some are perfect, but others are imperfect. And the imperfect are those which are produced in all men by the beneficence of nature only, or which are obtained by disciplines alone, and are learnt through the tuition of reason. We say, therefore, that those virtues are perfect which consist of all things [that are requisite]. But Plato denies that the imperfect virtues are concomitant with each other. He especially thought, however, that those which are perfect are inseparable, and mutually connected, because to him who has an excellent disposition, if industry accedes to this, experience also and discipline, which reason, the leader of things, has

A PULE I US OX THE DOCTRINES OF THE

established, nothing: w ill be wanting; which virtue will not administer, lie likewise distributes all the virtues conformably to the division of the parts of the soul : and that virtue which is supported by reason, and surveys and forms a judgment of all things, he calls prudence and wisdom. Of these also, he is of opinion, that wisdom is the discipline of divine and human concerns; but that prudence is the science by which we obtain a knowledge of good and evil, and likewise of those things which are called media. But he says, “ That in that part of the soul which is of a more irascible nature, the seat of fortitude, the strength of the soul, and the nerves [as it were] are contained, by which we accomplish those things, which by the command of the laws we are more severely enjoined to perform .” The third part of the soul is that which pertains to appetites and desires, and of which abstinence is necessarily a companion, which, Plato says, Ct is the saviour of the fitness of those things which naturally possess either rectitude or depravity In man, lust should be made to incline to complacency and mediocrity ; and he says, “ That voluptuous energies are restrained through abstinence and modesty.”

Distributing justice also, as a fourth virtue, through these three parts of the soul, he says, u That it is the cause of each of the parts performing its proper work according to the best reason and manner.” That hero also, at one time denominates this virtue justice, but at another, he comprehends it by the appellation of the whole of virtue 0 ; and also calls it by the name of fidelity.

c Conformably to this, Aristotle also says, in chap. i. book v. of bis Nicomachean Ethics: “ This justice, therefore, [L c. legal justice], is indeed a perfect virtue, yet not simply, but with reference to another thing. And on this account justice frequently appears to be the best of the virtues ; nor is either the evening: or the morning star so admirable. We likewise say proverbially, Every virtue is comprehended in justice.” And Iatnblichus (apud Stob. p. 104), says, m αυτό on to των όλων α,ρε των τελο;, καί την crvvayuynv αυτών σ-νρ-Τΐατων , εν η δη παται ΐνεκτι σύλληψην, κα τα τον παλαιόν λογον , γενοιτο αν τις εις την διχα,ιοτυνην ccyousvog.

i. c. α lie who is led [to the practice of! justice, is led to the end of all

PHILOSOPHY OF PLATO. BOOK ΙΓ.

When likewise it is useful to him by whom it is possessed, it is benevolence ; but when it looks to things external to itself, and is a faithful observer oi the utility of others, it is denominated [simply] justice. That also is justice, which possesses the fourth place in the common division of the virtues, and is conjoined with religion, i. e. with piety. And of these, piety is devoted to the worship of the Gods, and to sacrifices and propitiations. But this justice is the remedy and medicine of the society and

the virtues, in which all of them are comprehensively inherent , according to the ancient assertion.”

It appears that this assertion is of very great antiquity : for it is to he found in Theognis, who says,

Εν δε δικαιοσύνη συλλνζδην πασ·' αρετΜ Vt ι.

“ Justice each virtue in itself contains .”

So sensible were the Pedalians, an Indian nation, of the excellence of this virtue (as we are informed by Nicolaus Damascenus), that they never requested any thing else of the Gods than justice.

In perfect agreement also with what has been said respecting this virtue, Polus the Pythagorean, in a fragment of his treatise on Justice, preserved byStoba3us, observes : “It appears to me that the justice which subsists among men, may be called the mother and the nurse of the other virtues. For without this a man can neither be temperate, nor brave, nor prudent. For it is the harmony and peace, in conjunction with elegance of the whole soul. The strength, however, of this virtue will become more manifest, if we direct our attention to the other habits. For they have a partial utility, and which is referred to one thing ; but this is referred to whole systems, and to a multitude. In the world, therefore, it conducts the whole government of things, and is providence, harmony and Dice, by the decree of a certain genus of Gods. But in a city it is deservedly called peace, and equitable legislation. And in a house, it is the concord between the husband and wife ; the benevolence of the servant towards the master; and the anxious care of the master for the welfare of the servant. In the body, likewise, which is the first and dearest thing to all animals [so far as they are animals], it is the health and entireness of all the parts. But in the soul, it is the wisdom which among men subsists from science and justice. If, therefore, this virtue thus disciplines and saves both the whole and the parts [of every thing], rendering things concordant and familiar with each other, how is it possible it should not be called, by the decision of all men, the mother and the nurse of all things ?”

O

concord of men. Justice, however, rules over what is advantageous to mankind, from two equal causes, of which the first consists in the observance of numbers d, the equality of divisions, and the instruments of compacts : and in addition to these, it is the guardian of weights and measures, and the communication of public wealth. The second6 kind of justice is final, and is a division proceeding from equity, in order that a congruous dominion over land may be imparted to each individual, and that a greater portion of it may be preserved for the good, but a less for the evil. Through this justice, likewise, every one who is good both from nature and his own industry, is promoted to honours and offices ; but the worst of citizens are deprived of the splendour of dignity. For the just mode which ought to be observed by him who is a favourer of the good, and a subjugator of the evil, in bestowing and preserving honour, consists in this, that those things should always be transcendent in the city, which will be beneficial to all the citizens, but that vices, together with the authors of them, should be in an abject and degraded condition. This, however, will be more easily accomplished, if we are instructed by the examples of two kinds of men; the one being divine, tranquil, and blessed ; but the other irreligious, inhuman, and who are deservedly never adduced as witnesses; in order that, being alienated from the worst of characters, and who is averse to upright conduct, we may be desirous of committing our possessions to the management of that divine, celestial, and worthy man.

Hence, according to Plato, there are two parts of

d This is commutative justice, which, in contracts, and the commutation of things, preserves that equality by which every one obtains what is lawfully his own, and fraud is prevented.

e This is distributive justice, which, in the distribution of the good or evil arising from externals, pays attention to the dignity of the persons, and the equality of the things, so that every one may receive what is adapted to his desert. But it is here called final, because it establishes such tilings as pertain to the boundaries of land.

rhetoric ; one of which is a discipline contemplative of good, and tenacious of what is just, and is adapted to and concordant with the profession of him who wishes to be considered as a political character ; but the other is the science of adulation, explores probabilities, and is obtained by experience without the assistance of reason. For thus we explain αλογον τξΐ£ην, which wishes to persuade what it is unable to teach. Plato defines this part of rhetoric to be the power of persuading without teaching, and calls it the shadow, i. e. the image of a certain part of the political science. But he is of opinion, that we ought to consider this science as one among the number of the virtues ; and to survey it not only as active and conversant with the administration of things, but as directing its attention to all things, and rightly distinguishing them. He also thought that providence [or antecedent policy] not only benefited political concerns, but that the whole of its intention and purpose consisted in rendering the condition of the city fortunate and blessed. This also procures what is useful to the soul in two ways ; one of which is legal, but the other juridical. But the former of these is similar to the exercise f, by which the beauty and strength of the soul are acquired; just as by [gymnastic] exercise the health and gracefulness of the body are preserved. The juridical is similar to medicine. For the former heals the diseases of the soul, in the same manner as the latter those of the body. Plato calls these disciplines, and asserts that an attention to them is attended with great utility. He also says, “ That the culinary and cosmetic arts are the imitators of these ; but that the sophistical art, and the bland profession of law, employing the base allurements of flattery, are useless to all men.” Of these also, he conjoins the sophistical with the culinary art. For as the latter sometimes arrogates to itself the pro-

f The Delphin editor, in a note on this place, says that this exercise is gymnastic. But the exercise through which the beauty and strength of the soul are acquired, must evidently be scientific disciplines. This blunder of the editor, who was otherwise a good verbalist, is a deplorable specimen of ignorance in things of the greatest importance.

APULEIUS OX THE DOCTRINES OF THE

fession of medicine, in the opinion of the ignorant, as if those tilings which it effects accorded with the cure of diseases ; so the sophistical art, imitating the juridical profession, causes the stupid to think that it is studious of justice, when at the same time it is certain that it is favourable to iniquity. But the professors of law imitate the cosmetic art. For as the latter wishes to be considered in the place of a remedy, through which the beauty and health of bodies are preserved, though it not only diminishes the utility of bodies, but also destroys their strength and powers, and changes their true colour, through the inactivity of the blood which it occasions ; so likewise the former, imitating the science of law, pretends indeed that it increases virtue in the soul, but in reality debilitates its native industry.

Plato likewise thought that those virtues may be taught and obtained by study, which pertain to the rational soul, i. e. wisdom and prudence ; and also that those virtues which resist the vicious parts of the soul, and are, as it were, their remedy, viz. fortitude and temperance, participate of reason ; but that the former virtues are to be considered as disciplines. The rest, if they are perfect, he calls virtues ; but if they are half perfect, he does not think indeed that they should be called disciplines, nor does he conceive that they are totally foreign from disciplines. He is of opinion, however, that justice, which is scattered through the three regions of the soul, is the art and discipline of living; and that at one time it may be obtained by teaching, but at another by use and experience.

With respect also to such things as are good, he asserts that some are desirable for their own sake, such as beatitude and harmless joy g ; others are not desirable for their own sake, as medicine ; and others are desirable both for their own sake, and for the sake of something else, as prudence and the other virtues, which we desire

See hook i i . of Plato’s Republic, from which what is here asserted is derived.

both on their own account, as being essentially excellent and good, and for the sake of something else, t. e. beatitude, which is the most desirable fruit of the virtues. After this manner, likewise, some evils are to be avoided for their own sake, others for the sake of other things, and many, both on their own account and on account of other things ; such as folly, and vices of the like kind, which are to be avoided both for their own sake, and for the sake of the consequences with which they may be attended, viz. misery and infelicity. Again, of those things which are desirable, some we denominate absolutely good, which when they are possessed, bring with them utility, always and to all men ; as the virtues, the fruit of which is blessedness. Others are good to some, but not to all, nor always ; as strength, riches, and whatever pertains to the body and fortune. In like manner also, of those things which are to be avoided, some appear to be evil to all men and always, because they are noxious and impede ; as the vices and misfortunes ; but others are only evil to certain persons, and are not always noxious to them ; as disease, poverty, and the rest of this kind. Virtue, however, is free, is in our own power, and is that which we wish to obtain. Vices also are not less free, and in our power, yet the attainment of them is not the object of our choice. For he who directs his attention to virtue, when he understands that it is entirely good, and excels in benignity, will think that it is to be desired and pursued for its own sake. Just as he who perceives that vices are not only attended with infamy, but are also noxious on another account, and deceptive, cannot voluntarily associate with them. But if he tends to evils of this kind, and believes that the use of them will be beneficial tohim ; then he is deceived by error, and is allured indeed by the image of good, but is ignorantly11 precipi-

h In the original, sciens nero ad mala prcecipitatur. But for sciens it | is obviously necessary to read insciens. And yet, obvious as this must be to every thinking man, it was not perceived by the Delphin editor, who i only saw that sciens was wrong, but did not see the necessity of substi-

tated to evil. For you would be discordant with common opinion, if not being ignorant of the difference between poverty and riches, and that either may be most easily obtained by you, and also, if knowing that poverty will not procure dignity, nor riches disgrace, you should prefer the want of things necessary to the support of life, to an abundance of them ; since, in this case, you would be considered as insane. And it would be still more absurd, if some one, despising the health of the body, should give the preference to disease. Cut it would be the extremity of insanity, for one who has seen with the eyes of the soul the beauty of virtue, and who knows its utility both from experience and reason, and is not ignorant how much disgrace and inconvenience result from a participation of the vices, to wish nevertheless to be enslaved to vice.

Plato also says, that health of body, strength, a privation of pain, and other external goods of this kind, and likewise riches and other things which we call the benefits of fortune, are not to be denominated simply good. For if any one who possesses them should deprive himself of their use, they would be superfluous to him ; but they will be found to be noxious to him, who converts the use of them to depraved arts. He likewise who uses them badly, will be obnoxious to vice ; and the possessor of them cannot retain them when he dies. Hence, it may be inferred, that these ought not to be called simply good ; nor are those things which are of an afflictive nature, such as poverty, and the like, to be considered as evils. For if he whose means of living are small, is moderate in his expense, he will perceive no inconvenience from the slenderness of his income1, but will be more able, and better adapted to the endurance of other things. If,

tuting in its place insciens. For his remark is, “ Locus hie non videtur mihi sanus, neque enim si quis errore deceptus, et invitatus boni imagine (ut dixit) tendit ad mala, dici potest in ea se scientem praecipitasse.”

1 Except he happens to live in a country where the taxation is overwhelming.

therefore, there is nothing* repugnant in suffering poverty, and yet governing it by reason, poverty is not of itself evil. Plato likewise thought, that pleasure is neither absolutely good, nor simply evil ; but that the pleasure which is worthy, and which does not accede from things of a shameful nature, but from glorious deeds, is not to be avoided ; while, on the contrary, it is requisite to shun that pleasure, which nature herself despises, and which is procured by base delight. He also was of opinion that solicitude and labour, if they are natural, and originate from virtue itself, and are undertaken for the accomplishment of something illustrious, are desirable ; but that if they are produced contrary to nature, for the sake of what is most base, they are evil and detestable. And farther still, that not only vices accede voluntarily to the mind and bodv, but that there is likewise a certain middle state, such as is that when sorrow is absent, and yet we do not find that joy is present.

Of those things likewise which are in our power k, the first and laudable good, to him who desires [real] good, is virtue , and which, therefore, it is requisite to call honesty ; for we conceive that alone to be good which is honest, just as we think that which is dishonest is evil. And it very properly follows, that what is base cannot be good. Plato also says, that friendship is the conciliator of society, that it consists in concord, and that it is reci-

k The Delphln editor very erroneously makes the words, “ Of those things likewise which are in our power," to be a part of the preceding, instead of the beginning of a new period. This will be immediately obvious, by comparing the original with his interpretation. For the original is, u Non solum vitia voluntate accidere animis, et venire corporibus, sed esse medium quendam statum; qualis est, cum abest tristitia, nec tamen laetitiam adesse sentimus. Ex his quae in nobis sunt, primum bonum atque laudabile est virtus, bonum studenti,” &c. But the Delphin interpretation is, “ Non tantum vitia evenire voluntarih i mentibus, et contingere corporibus, veriim esse etiam quendam statum i medium, veluti quando careraus maerore, neque tamen experimur nos affici gaudio eorum, quae reperiuntur in nobis. Primum bonum et i laudabile illi, qui appetit bonum, est virtus," &c.

35G APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

procal, and produces mutual delight, when the love on both sides is equal. Friendship is attended with this advantage [of mutual delight], when a friend wishes that he who is the object of his love may be blessed with prosperity, in the same manner as he himself wishes to be blest. But this equality cannot be effected, unless there is an according similitude in both, through an equal fondness. For as equals are conjoined with equals by an indissoluble bond, so unequals are mutually disjoined, and are not friendly to each other. The vices, however, of enmities are produced by malevolence, through a dissimilitude of manners, a discordancy of life, and professions and dispositions contrary to each other. For Plato says, that there are other kinds of friendship; of which, some are generated for the sake of pleasure, but others from necessity. And the love, indeed, of familiars and children is consentaneous to nature ; but that w7hich is for the sake of pleasure only, and which is vulgarly called love, is abhorrent from the clemency of humanity, and is an ardent appetite, by the libidinous stimulus of which, the lovers of body being captivated, think that the whole man consists in that which they behold. The same Plato forbids us to call such like calamities of souls friendships, because they are not mutual, and are incapable of producing reciprocal love, and neither possess constancy nor length of duration. To which may be added, that such love terminates in satiety and penitence.

Hence Plato enumerates three kinds of love ; of which one is divine, being in concord with an incorruptible intellect and the nature of virtue, and which is not accompanied by repentance ; the second pertains to a degenerate mind, and the most corrupt pleasure ; and the third is mingled from both, and pertains to a soul of a temperate disposition and moderate desires. But souls that are more clouded with oblivion are impelled by corporeal desires, and propose to themselves one thing only, that they may enjoy the use of bodies, and may assuage their ardour by pleasure and delight of this kind. Purer minds, who are

facetious and courteous, love the souls of those that are good, are benevolent to them, and desirous that they may excel in laudable arts, and may be rendered more worthy and illustrious characters. Souls of a middle nature consist of both the extremes, and in consequence of this are not entirely averse to the delights of the body, and may be allured by souls of an amiable disposition. As, therefore, that most filthy, brutal, and base love is not engendered from the nature of things, but from disease and corporeal infirmity, so that divine love, which was bestowed by the beneficence of the Gods, is believed to accede to the minds of men through the inspiration of the celestial Cupid. There is also a third species of love, which we have denominated a medium, and which subsists through an affinity to divine and terrestrial love, is connected to each by an equal bond of alliance, and in the same manner as divine love is proximate to reason, and is joined to the desire of pleasure, like the terrestrial love.

Of vituperable men there are four species ; of which the first consists of the ambitious ; the second of the avaricious ; the third of the vulgar ; and the last of tyrannic domination. Hence that first vice happens to souls, when the vigour of reason becomes languid, and that portion of the soul in which anger predominates is the superior and more robust part. The second vice is called an oligarchy, which is produced when, on account of the most baneful nutriment of that part of the soul which consists of desires, not only the receptacles of reason and anger are occupied, but likewise those receptacles of the epithymetic part [or the part characterized by desire], which excite unnecessary desires. Plato calls the man in whom this vice predominates a lover of gain, and an extortioner. The popular [or vulgar] quality exists when the desires, labouring under too much indulgence, are not only inflamed by just wants, but also frequently oppose them, and oppress by their evil condition the rational and irascible parts of the soul. A tyranny is a luxurious and libidinous life, consisting of infinite, different, and unlaw»

358 A P U LEI U S ON THE DOCTRINES OF T1IE

ful pleasures, and predominates over all the mind. But the worst of all men, according to Plato, is not only base and pernicious, a despiser of the Gods, and one who leads an immoderate, savage, and unsociable life, but neither accords with his kindred nor with himself, and on this account, not only dissents from others, but is at variance with his own soul, and is not only hostile to others, but likewise to himself. Hence, such a man is neither a friend to the good, nor in short to any one, nor to himself, and he is the worst of men, because he cannot be surpassed by any excess of improbity. A man of this kind can never extricate himself from difficulty in transacting business, not only on account of his ignorance, but likewise because he is unknown to himself, and because perfect improbity produces sedition in the mind, impeding its undertakings and meditated designs, and not suffering it to do any thing which it wishes to effect.

On this account, not only those vices which are preternatural, such as envy, and rejoicing in the calamities of others, render the worst of men execrable, but this is also effected by those things which nature does not reject, such as pleasure, pain, desire, love, pity, fear, shame, and anger. This, however, takes place, because an immoderate disposition, in whatever it impetuously undertakes, is without measure. Hence, the love of a man of this kind is completely corrupt ; not only because he longs, through unbridled desires and an insatiable thirst, to ingurgitate pleasures of every kind, but likewise because in the judgment itself of outward form, he is led astray by irrational error, being ignorant of true beauty, and loving the decaying, enervated, and flowing skin of the body, though [it is absurd] that he should greatly esteem members coloured by the sun \ or hardened by exercise, gross

1 The ancients were accustomed to dry the skin in the sun, in order to procure for the body, strength, firmness, and colour. Hence, Persius, Sat. iv.

Quae tibi summa boni est? uncta vixisse patella

Semper, et assiduo curata cuticula sole.

through being nourished in the shade, or soft through indolence, and anointed with too much care. It is certain, indeed, that improbity rages among men in many ways, though they are unwilling that it should. For Plato says, that injustice is an inordinate passion and disease of the mind ; and hence he clearly infers, that men are not spontaneously led to act unjustly. For who would voluntarily receive in himself so great a portion of evil, as knowingly to introduce baseness and wickedness into the best part of his mind? Since, therefore, the possession of evil belongs to the imprudent, it is requisite that the use of it, and the actions resulting from it, should be exercised by those that are ignorant. And hence it is worse to do an injury than to be injured. For who can be injured by these things, which are of a viler nature, viz. by things corporeal and external, which may either be diminished, or may perish through fraud, those better things being uninjured which pertain to the soul itself? But it is far worse to injure. From whence it may be understood, that this vice is the ruin of worthy souls, and that he who desires to destroy another person, injures himself in a greater degree than he injures him against whom he machinates destruction. Since likewise to injure another is the greatest of all evils, it is much worse for him who does an injury to go unpunished ; and it is still more dire, and worse than all punishment, for impunity to be granted to a noxious character, and for such a one to escape the castigation of men. Just as [in the maladies of the body] the worst thing that can happen to them, when they are most severe, is to be deprived of a remedy, and deceive the physician, and for those members that are diseased, neither to be cut nor burnt, though these painful operations are necessary to the safety of the remaining parts. Hence, as the best physicians do not apply their healing hands to bodies that are in a lamentable and desperate condition, lest their unprofitable attempt to heal them should lengthen the duration of the pain, thus also it is better for those to

die, whose souls are imbued with vices, and cannot be cured by the medicine of wisdom. For Plato thought, that he in whom the desire of living conformably to right reason cannot be produced, either by nature or art, ought to be expelled from life, or, if the desire of life lias taken possession of him, that he ought to be delivered to wise men, by a certain art of whom he may be turned to more upright conduct. And it is indeed better for such a one to be governed, and not to possess the power of governing others, and for him not to be a master, but to be in servitude ; because, being himself impotent, he is formed to be in subjection to the power of others, and is allotted the province of obeying, rather than that of commanding.

Plato further observes, that a man of the most depraved character is not only worse because he is always dilacerated by the addition of vices, but likewise because he is hurried away by the fluctuations of desires"1. And hence, the more he desires to obtain, the more indigent he will appear to be to himself, and on that account also to others. For scarcely will he obtain a few of those things which are the objects of his hopes and desires, and when he does, it will be attended with the greatest difficulty. The attainment also of these will be followed by more ardent furies of desires ; nor will he only be tormented by future evils, but also by such as are past, and have been previously accomplished. It is manifest, therefore, that all such can only be liberated by death from evils of this kind. Those, however, that are extremely good, and those that are immoderately bad, are very few and very rare, and, as he says, may be numbered ; but those who are evidently neither the best of men, nor entirely the worst, but whose morals are as it were of a middle condition,

m In the original, “ Virum pessimutn non solum deteriorem etiam dicebat esse, quod distrahatur semper additione vitiorum, etsi desideriorum aestibus differtur.” But for etsi here, it appears to me to be obviously necessary to read sed etiam quia.

PHILOSOPHY OF PLATO. BOOK If. 3G 1

are numerous11. Neither, however, do those of a superior character among these conduct themselves properly in every thing ; nor do those who are culpable among them act erroneously in all things. For the vices of these men are neither atrocious, nor unseasonable, nor excessively criminal, the nature of which consists in redundancy or deficiency; since they possess integrity, merit a moderate degree of approbation, and proceed in a middle path, which is situated between praise and blame. They are also excited to certain undertakings by a desire of such a kind, as at one time to be allured by good and worthy men, conformably to reason, and at another to be insnared by dishonest gain and base pleasures. Such men neither persevere in the fidelity of friendship, nor does that love which is not always unworthy, nor yet always worthy, invade their mind.

Plato likewise says, that no one can be completely wise, unless he excels others in his natural disposition, is perfect in disciplines and the parts of prudence, and has been imbued with them from his childhood, beino* accustomed to appropriate words and deeds, and also purified and defecated by the pleasures of the mind, deriving from the parts of prudence, temperance, and endurance, and from disciplines, doctrines produced by eloquence and a scientific knowledge of things. He adds, that he who, beginning from these, proceeds in the path of virtue with a confident and secure step, having thus obtained a solid method of living, will suddenly become perfect, i. e. will suddenly arrive at the extreme parts of the past and future time, and become, after a certain manner, eternal0. Then

n All this is asserted by Plato, in the Phaedo, who likewise says, in the same part of that dialogue, that an ignorance of this truth is the cause of misanthropy.

° See the latter part of my translation of the Timaeus of Plato, from which all that is here asserted by Apuleius is principally derived. Among other things, Plato there says (p. 567), “ It is necessary that he who is sedulously employed in the acquisition of knowledge, who is anxious to acquire the wisdom of truth, and who employs his most vigorous exer-

362 APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OK THE

after this, the vices being expelled, and every thing inserted and introduced which leads to a blessed life, the wise man will rightly think that felicity does not depend on others, and cannot by others be imparted to him, but is in his own power. Hence he will neither be elevated in prosperous circumstances, nor depressed in such as are adverse ; since he will know that he is so furnished with his own ornaments, that he cannot be separated from them by any force, however great. It is likewise requisite that such a man should not only refrain from doing an injury, but also from returning it. For as he does not think that to be an injury which is done by an unworthy man ; so likewise neither does he think that to be so which patience can firmly endure. Hence, by this law of nature, it is engraved in his mind, that none of those things can hurt a wise man, which are thought by others to be evils. Indeed, this wise man, trusting to his own conscience, will be secure and confident through the whole of life, because he considers all accidental circumstances as ultimately contributing to what is best, and also because he receives nothing morosely, or with difficulty, and is firmly persuaded that his concerns are under the [providential] inspection of the immortal Gods,

The same wise man, also, expects the day of his death with good omens p, and not unwillingly, because he con-

tions in this one pursuit, — it is perfectly necessary that such a one, if he comes into contact with the truth, should be endued with wisdom about immortal and divine concerns, and that he should participate of immortality, as far as human nature permits, without leaving any part of it behind.”

p In the original, propitius , which the Dolphin interpreter, not perceiving whence Apuleius derived this expression, renders Iranquille. But it is derived from what Socrates says, towards the end of the Phaedo, to those who were weeping, after he had drank the poison, viz. I have heard that it is proper to die joyfully, and with propitious omens. Be quiet, therefore, and summon fortitude to your assistance. On which the Platonic Olyinpiodorus (in MS. Comment, in Phaxl.) remarks as follows : “ The Pythagoreans thought it proper to die joyfully, because death is a good and sacred thing, and because sometimes

fides in the immortality of his soul. For the soul ot' the wise man, being* liberated from its corporeal bonds, wil return to the Gods; and, according to the desert of a life passed with purity and sanctity, will through this procure for itself a condition similar to that of the Gods. He likewise denominates the same wise man most excellent, and rightly conceives him to be both good and prudent, since his counsels accord with the most upright deeds, and the principles of his conduct are derived from justice itself. He likewise adds, that this wise man possesses the greatest mental strength, because, through the vigour of his mind, he is prepared for the endurance of all things. Hence it is that Plato calls fortitude the nerves and the very neck of the soulq, just as he says that cowardice is most proximate to the imbecility of the soul. Rightly also does he think that this wise man , is the only rich man, because he alone appears to posriess the riches of the virtues which are more precious than all treasuries. The wise man, likewise, ought to be considered as most rich, because he alone can rightly employ wealth to necessary purposes. For others , though they abound in riches , yet appear to be needy , because they are either ignorant of their use, or pervert them to the zvorst of ends. For it is not the absence of money that produces penury, but the presence of immoderate desires. It is requisite, therefore, that the philosopher, — if he is in want of nothing, is firm and unshaken in every fortune, and is superior to those things which are considered by most men as very difficult to be borne, — should not be so attentive to any thing, as to the perpetual endeavour of separating his soul from its conjunction with the body; and on this account it is

a contrary conduct destroys that impulse by which the soul is led back to her true felicity. Besides this, when the soul departs in sorrow, a crowd of daemons, who are lovers of body, are by this mean evocated, and who, in consequence of rejoicing in a life conversant with generation, render the pneumatic vehicle of the soul heavy.”

q See the Dialogue of Plato, called Laches, or concerning Fortitude.

364 APULEIUS OX T1IE DOCTRINES OF THE

proper to think that philosophy is the desire of death, and the being; accustomed to dier.

All good men likewise ought to be friends to, though they are not known to, each other, and they are to be considered as friends, through that very power by which their manners and pursuits mutually accord : for similars are not abhorrent from similars. Whence it is certain, that the fidelity of friendship can only subsist among the good. Wisdom causes a youth to be a lover of a good man, when the youth is one who is more prompt to the attainment of good arts, through the probity of his natural disposition. Nor can deformity of body expel a love of this kind. For when the soul herself is the object of delight, the whole man is beloved ; but when the body is the object of desire, the worst part of the man is dear to him who possesses this desire. Deservedly, therefore, is it to be thought, that he who knows what is [really] good is also desirous of things that are of the same kind with it. For he alone is inflamed with good desires who sees that [true] good with the eyes of the soul, and he is the wise man. This, however, takes place, because it is necessary that he who is ignorant should also be a hater of, and an enemy to, the virtues. Nor is it vainly asserted, that such a man is also a lover of base pleasures.

The wise man likewise does not apply himself to the performance of any thing merely for the sake of pleasure alone, unless it is accompanied by the honest emoluments of virtue. And it is necessary that, in conjunction with a pleasure of this kind, he should lead a worthy and admirable life, and a life full of honour and glory. Nor is he to be preferred to all other men for the sake of these things only ; but he also is the only man who always

r This philosophic death, by which the soul, while connected with, is separated from the body as much as possible, is effected by the cathartic or purifying virtues. See my translation of the Thsedo of Plato.

enjoys jucundity and security. Nor will he be disquieted when deprived of the most dear objects of his affection, either because every thing which tends to beatitude is adapted to him, or because grief of this kind is interdicted by the decree and law of right reason; and likewise because he who torments himself through such a cause, either suffers that affliction on account of him who is dead, as if he was in a worse condition than when living, or for his own sake, because he grieves that he is deprived of such an alliance. Lamentations, however, ought not to be indulged, on account of the death of any one, if we know that the deceased will not suffer any evil, and that, if he was a worthy man, he will associate with more excellent beings ; nor will the wise man grieve on his own account, because he deposits all things in himself, and cannot, by the loss of any man, be indigent of virtue, of which he vindicates to himself the perpetual possession. And hence, the wise man will not be sorrowful [whatever may befal him] s.

The end of wisdom also is this, that the wise man may arrive at the excellence of divinity [as far as this is possible to man] ; and this must be his endeavour, to accede to the energies of the Gods, by emulating their life. But this he may accomplish, if he causes himself to become a man perfectly just, pious, and prudent. On which account it is requisite that he should endeavour to attain those things which are approved both by Gods and men, not only in the knowledge of foreseeing [what is proper to be done], but also in the actual performance of what is right. For the supreme God not only surveys by a dianoetic energy 1 all these particulars, but likewise

s See all that is here said about the wise man beautifully corroborated by Seneca and Plotinus, in my Triumph of the Wise Man over Fortune.

1 In the original, cogitationum ratione considerat. But Apuleius derived this mode of expression from the Timseus of Plato, and from that part of it in which the Demiurgus, in fabricating the world, is said to energize diano'etically , and to reason , ΖίΛνονθίίς r afo, και λβγι,σ-θεις; for

30f) APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

pervades through the first, middle, and last of things, and, possessing a profound knowledge of them, governs them by the universality and immutability of his providential administration. And Plato indeed says, that to all men that nature appears to be blessed which possesses good, and knows after what manner it ought to be free from vice.

But with respect to beatitude ; one kind is produced when we defend what we effect, by paying a proper attention to it; but another kind is the consequence of nothing being wanting to the perfection of life, and when we are satisfied with the contemplative energy u. The origin, however, of both these kinds of felicity emanates from virtue ; and to the ornament, indeed, of the genial x place, or of virtue, we have no need of those external aids which we imagine to be good. But to the purposes of the common life, the care of the body, and those auxiliaries which accede to us externally, are requisite ; nevertheless, in such a manner as that these very same things may be rendered better through virtue, and may, by its assistance,

these are the words of Plato. The Demiurgus, however, as we have before observed, is not the supreme God, as he is supposed to be by Apuleius, both here and in his Apoiogy. For of the Demiurgus, Plato says, in the Timaeus, “ that it is difficult to discover him, and, when found, impossible to speak of him to all men.” But the supreme God, or the one , is celebrated by him, in the Parmenides, as perfectly ineffable. It is requisite to add, that the diandetic energy is the discursive energy of reason, particularly when this energy is scientific.

u i. e. With an energy according to the theoretic virtues; for an account of which, see the additional notes to my translation of Select Works of Plotinus.

x The Delphin editor observes, that by the genial place “ he understands the place in which a man is born but this is evidently absurd· For certainly a man has need of external aids, in order to adorn the place of his birth. May not, therefore, the genial place be the place sacred to the Genius, or peculiar daemon? just as genialis lectus , or the genial bed , was made in ancient nuptials, in honour of the Genius. But the place in the soul sacred to the daemon will be the summit, or most excellent part of the soul.

be conjoined with the benefits of beatitude, without which they are by no means to be ranked in the number of things that are [truly] good. Nor is it without reason, that virtue alone can make men most fortunate ; since without this, felicity cannot be obtained from other things of a prosperous nature. For we call the wise man an attendant on and an imitator of God, and we think that he follows God : for this is the meaning of εττου It is, however, not only requisite, that he

should speak what is worthy to be asserted of the Gods, while he lives, and that he should do nothing which is displeasing to their majesty, but also at the very time when he is leaving the body, from which he will not emigrate contrary to the will of divinity2. For though he has in his own hand the power of dying, yet he ought not to be the cause of his own death, unless the divine law shall have decreed that this is necessary to be suffered : though he knows that when he leaves terrestrial natures, he shall obtain a better condition of being. And if his character is adorned by the illustrious deeds of his past life, yet it is requisite that he should pay attention to honest fame while he lives, since being confident of his future existence, he permits his soul to proceed to immortality, and presumes because he has lived piously, that it will be an inhabitant of the fortunate islands, and be mingled with the choirs of Gods and Demigods.

With respect to the constitution of cities, and the particulars which are to be observed in the administration of polities, Plato orders as follows : In the first place, he thus defines the form of a city. A city is a mutual conjunction of many men, among which some govern, but others obey, and who are united to each other by concord, afford each other defence and assistance, and in the performance of their respective duties, use the same

y i. e. u Follow God,” which is a celebrated Pythagoric precept.

2 This is asserted in the Phsedo. See the notes to rny translation of that dialogue.

laws, but nevertheless such as are just. This city also will be one, if it is surrounded with the same walls, and the minds of the inhabitants are accustomed to approve and reject the same things, lienee, it is requisite to persuade the founders of polities, that they should give such an extent to the place which the people are to inhabit, that all of them may be known by the same governor, and that they may not be unknown to each other a. For thus it will happen, that all of them will be of one mind, and will wish for themselves what is equitable. Indeed, it is not lit that a great city should rely on the multitude of its inhabitants, or on its great power. For it should not think that the power of body and of riches are to be esteemed when they are associated with indolence and pride, but when the inhabitants being men that are adorned with all the virtues, and being all of them firmly fixed in the laws, are obedient to the common decree. Other cities , howeve\ *, which are 7iot constituted after this manner, are not sane cities, hut are foul polities, and tumid with disease. In the last place, Plato says, that those polities are founded in reason, which are constituted conformably to the arrangement of the [parts of the] soul ; so that the most excellent part which transcends in wisdom and prudence, may govern the multitude; and that as the soul providentially attends to the whole body, thus also the decisions of prudence may defend and preserve whatever is advantageous to the whole city.

Fortitude, likewise, which is the second part of virtue, as it corrects and represses by its power desire [in the

a See my translation of book v. of Plato’s Laws, in which it is said (p. 132), u that nothing is more advantageous to a city , than for the citizens to be known to each other ; since where each has no light in the manners of each, but darkness* , there neither honours nor governors ure property appointed , nor can any one obtain , in a becoming manner , the justice which is due to him."

As in London, and all great modern cities.

soul], thus also, it ought to be equally vigilant in a cityb. Hence, in the place of sentinels, the youth should fight for the benefit of the whole community. But the discipline of those who are capable of giving better counsel, should bridle, restrain, and if it is necessary destroy those who are restless, untamed, and are therefore the worst of citizens. But Plato is of opinion that the third part of the soul, which is the seat of desires, is similar to the common people, and to husbandmen; and he thinks that this part is to be sustained by moderate advantages. He denies however the possibility of the continuance of a polity, unless he who presides over it is studious of wisdom ; or he who is elected to be the ruler, is the wisest of men c. For he says, that all the citizens should be imbued with manners of this kind, so that those to whose custody and fidelity the polity is committed, may have no wish to possess silver and gold; and also that they may not desire the wealth of private individuals, under the pretext of employing it for the general good ; nor live in such a manner as to procure sustenance for themselves, without opening their doors to others, and

b See my translation of book iv. of the Republic. c Plato, in book vi. of his Republic, largely proves that philosophers o light to be the supreme rulers of cities. Hence, he says in that book (p. 336 of my translation), “ However, being compelled by the truth, we did assert, that neither city, nor republic, nor even a man in the same way, would ever become perfect, till some necessity of fortune oblige those few philosophers, who are at present called not depraved, but useless, to take the government of the city whether they will or not, and compel the city to be obedient to them ; or till the sons of those who are now in the offices of power and magistracies, or they themselves, by some divine inspiration, be possessed with a genuine love of genuine philosophy.” And still more expressly in book v. (p. 312), he says, “ That unless either philosophers govern in cities, or those who are at present called kings and j governors philosophize genuinely and sufficiently, and these two, the l political power and philosophy, unite in one; and till the bulk of those ( who at present pursue each of these separately, are of necessity excluded, i there will be no end to the miseries of cities, nor yet to those of the human race.”

A PU LEI US ON THF. DOCTRINES OF THE

consume in mutual banquets the gifts which they have received from those whom they protect.

He likewise says that marriages should not be private, but should be made to be common d, the wise men, and the magistrates of the city, and those who by lot are adapted to this employment, publicly affiancing such nuptials ; and being especially careful to prevent those that are unequal or dissimilar from being united to each other. With these things, also, a necessary and useful mixture is connected, so that from the mingled education of children as yet unknown, the knowledge of who were their parents may be rendered difficult ; and thus, while parents are ignorant of their own children, they may believe that all whom they see of the same6 age, are their own, and that all may be the parents of all as of common children. Besides this, likewise, a seasonable conjunction of these marriages must be investigated, the fidelity of which Plato thinks will be stable, if the number of the days accords with the harmony of music1. And those who will be born from such like nuptials should be imbued with appropriate studies, and instructed in the best disciplines by the preceptors with whom authority for this purpose is to be invested in common ; and not only the male, but also the female sex, are to be tutored after this manner. For Plato is of opinion, that women should be instructed in all the arts, and even those of war, which are thought to pertain peculiarly to men ; since there is the same virtue of each, because each has one and the same nature. He also says, that such a city has no need of laws externally introduced ; for as it is established by royal prudence, and such institutes and manners

d See book v. of the Republic.

6 In the original ejus atatis, but it appears to me to be obviously necessary to read tjusdem atatis.

f Apuleius here alludes to the celebrated geometric number in book viii. of the Republic of Plato ; for a development of which, see my Theoretic Arithmetic, p. 150.

as we have mentioned, it does not require other laws. And this polity was composed by him as a certain resemblance of truth, for the sake of an example.

There is also another polity g [described by Plato], which is sufficiently just, and fabricated as a paradigm, not indeed, as the former, without evidence, but with something of existing truthh. In this polity he does not regulate the state and advantages of the city conformably to his own will, investigating for this purpose the principles and foundations of its origin ; but his intention is to show how the political ruler, having obtained a place of this kind, and a multitude of people, ought to cause the city to become full of good laws and excellent morals, according to the nature of existing circumstances, and the disposition of its inhabitants. In this city, likewise, he ordains that there shall be the same education of youth, and the same disciplines of arts [as in the former city]. But in marriages and births, and patrimonies and houses, he departs from the regulations which he adopted in the former polity ; for he makes the marriages to be private and peculiar, and to be the nuptials of the suitors of virgins. And though those who are about to form the nuptial league ought to consult their own will, yet he orders that the affair shall be considered by the rulers of the whole city as a thing which pertains to the general

s The description of this polity may be seen in book v. of the Laws, and is called by Plato the second polity.

h Though the form of government described in the Republic of Plato has not existed in any times recorded by historians, yet that it once existed among the ancient Athenians who lived nine thousand years before Solon, is evident from what Critias says in the Timseus of Plato, (see vol. i. p. 165) of my translation : viz. ic That the citizens in the Republic of Socrates, are the very people who existed at that time.” Hence, as Proclus well observes (in Tim. p. 160), “ That it is possible for this polity to exist, is demonstrated through the life of the ancient Athenians, and also that it is productive of the greatest good to those who belong to it.” By no means, therefore, is this polity without evidence of its having existed, as Apuleius seems to think it is.

Λ PL L LI US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

good. Hence, the rich must not refuse to marry women that are not wealthy1, and the poor must enter into an alliance with the rich ; though there is an inequality in the property of the two. Different dispositions also are to be mingled together ; so that a mild woman may be united to an irascible man, and an irascible woman to a tranquil man ; in order that the offspring produced from different dispositions, may, by the assistance of and advantage arising from such ordinances, be formed to better manners, and thus the city may be increased by the wealth of families constituted after this manner.

The offspring themselves, likewise, which are generated from the seed of parents of dissimilar dispositions, since they possess a resemblance to both, will neither want vigour in the execution of what they undertake to perform, nor sagacity in perceiving what is requisite to be done. They are to be educated, however, in such a way as may be deemed proper by their parents. Their houses also, and private possessions, must be adapted to their condition, which Plato does not suffer either to increase immensely through avarice, or to be dissipated through luxury, or abandoned through negligence. He likewise orders laws to be promulgated for this city, and exhorts the moderator of the laws, [i. e. the legislator], to the contemplation of the virtues, when he intends to establish any thing of this kind. But he thinks that mode of government to be useful, which is mingled from the three modes. For he does not think that the domination of the nobles, or of the people merely and alone, is good. Nor does he leave the faults of the rulers unpunished k; but

' See book vi. of the Laws.

k This, therefore, does not pertain to a royal government, in which kings are not accountable to any one for their conduct. But though Plato mingles this polity from a democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy, yet he was of opinion, as is evident from his Politicus, that the best form of government is that in which either one man who is a most excellent character is the supreme ruler, or a few excellent men rule conjointly. And this opinion of his is doubtless most scientifically true.

yet he is of opinion, that it is better for those to govern, who are superior in power. He also conceives, that other forms of polities may be defined, which tend to worthy manners. And with respect to that polity which he says subsists by emendation, he orders that the ruler of it should in the first place complete the laws which remain to be enacted, or correct such as are vicious ; and that in the next place he should convert the pernicious manners and corrupt disciplines of the city to a better condition ; from which corruption, if the depraved multitude cannot be changed by counsel and persuasion, they must be led away from their enterprise unwillingly and by force.

In the city, however, which is already constituted, he describes the manner in which the whole multitude of men contained in it may be governed with probity and justice. But these being such, will love their kindred, honour the magistrates, expel intemperance, and restrain injustice; bestowing the greatest honours on prudence, and the other ornaments of life. Nor should the multitude rashly fly to a polity thus governed, unless they have been educated conformably to the best laws and the most excellent precepts, so as to be moderate towards others, and concordant among themselves. Lastly, he says that there are four genera of culpable citizens; the first, of those who transcend in dignity ; the second, of the few who possess the supreme power; the third comprehends all the citizens ; and the fourth and last pertains to tyrannic domination. And the first indeed is confounded, when more prudent men are expelled from the city by seditious magistrates, and the supreme power is delivered to those who are only strenuous in the hand ; and when those who are capable of managing the affairs of the city by milder counsel, have no share in the administration, but only those who are turbulent and violent. But the polity is in the hands of a few, when many that are needy and criminal, being at one and the same time in subjection to the violence of a few rich men, deliver and commit themselves to them ; and not worthy manners, but opu-

374 APULEIUS OX THE DOCTRINES, &C.

lence, obtains all the ruling power. And the popular faction is corroborated, when the needy multitude predominates over the rich, and the law is promulgated by the command of the people, so that honours may be equally obtained by all the citizens. To which may be added, that the only principle of tyrannic domination is then produced, when he who has violated the laws by his own contumacy, invades the domination to which he was elected by a conspiracy against the laws ; and afterwards having decreed that all the multitude of citizens shall be obedient to his desires and his avarice, directs also to this end the obedience which he requires.

APULE1US

ON T1IE

HABITUDE OF THE DOCTRINES

OF THE

BOOK THE THIRD.

ON INTERPRETATION,

OR CONCERNING THE CATEGORIC SYLLOGISM.

The love of wisdom, which we call philosophy, is generally thought to have three parts a, viz. physics, ethics, and that of which I have now proposed to speak, logic, in which the art of disputation and reasoning is contained. But since [in treating of logic], we speak of a sentence of which there are various species, such as those of commanding, or narrating, of ordering, expostulating, wishing, vowing, of expressing anger, hatred, envy, kindness, commiseration, admiration, contempt, reproof, repentance, lamentation, and besides these, of introducing pleasure, and exciting fear ; in all which, it is the province of an excellent orator to enunciate things of an ample nature with brevity, such as are of a confined nature diffusedly, such as are vulgar gracefully, those that are novel in a usual manner, and those that are usual accompanied

a To these, however, a fourth part must be added, viz. metaphysics

376 APULEIUS OX THE DOCTRINES OF THE

with novelty; to extenuate what is great b, to be able to effect the greatest things from such as are the smallest, and to accomplish many other things of the like kind ; — since this is the case, there is one sentence among these which especially pertains to what is now proposed to be discussed, and which is called enunciative, comprehending a definite meaning, and being the only one among all sentences which is capable of truth or falsehood0. This is called by Sergius effatum, by Varro proloquium, by Cicero enuntiatum , and by the Greeks protasis or a proposition, and also axioma, or an axiom. But I denominate it word for word, protentio and rogamentum'1 .

Of propositions, therefore, as also of conclusions themselves, there are two species, the one enunciative, which likewise is simple, as if we should say, he zcho reigns is blessed ; the other substitutive or conditional , which also is compounded, as if you should say he who reigns is blessed , if he is wise. For you substitute the condition, through which he is not blessed unless he is wise. Now, however, we shall speak of the enunciative, which is prior by nature, and as it were the element of the conditional proposition. There are, likewise, other differences of propositions, viz. differences of quantity and quality. Of quantity, indeed, because some are universal ; as, every

b It is singular that the Delphin editor should interpret “ extenuarc magna ,” the words used by Apuleius, by “ elevare grandia !'f

c Aristotle, in his treatise πεξΐ εξ^ηνειας, on Interpretation, cap. v. says, Strrt δε αττλη στιρ, αντικκ πεξΐ του υπα,ξχειν , ως οι χξονοι

διηζννται, i. e. “ simple enunciation, is sound significant of something being inherent, or not being inherent, according as times are divided.” But by something being inherent or not, Aristotle means affirming or denying an attribute of something; and this as times are divided into the past, present, and future. I refer the reader, who wishes to understand completely this treatise of Apuleius, to my translation of Aristotle’s Organon, and the notes accompanying it.

d i. e. A proposition, and a proposition to be granted , i. e. which cannot be denied. For unless rogamentum has this meaning, it cannot correspond to the word axioma.

thing that breathes lives ; but others are particular ; as, some animals do not breathe ; and others are indefinite; as, an animal breathes. For it does not define whether everv

animal, or only some one breathes, yet it always has the power of a particular proposition ; because it is more safe to assume that from an uncertain thing, which is less [comprehensive than what is universal]. But there are differences of the quality of propositions : some of them being affirmative, because they affirm something of a certain thing ; as, virtue is good : for it affirms that goodness is in virtue : — others are negative, which deny something of a certain thing ; as, pleasure is not good: for it denies that goodness is inherent in pleasure. The

Stoics however think, that this proposition also is affirmative, when they say, it happens to a certain pleasure that it is not good. For he who says this affirms that which happens to it, /. e. affirms what it is. Hence, they say it is affirmative, because it affirms that which does not appear to be, of that thing in which it denies it to be inherent6. But they alone call that proposition negative, to which a negative particle is prefixed. These, however, are vanquished as well in other things as in this, if any one makes the following proposition ; that which has no substance , is not. For according to what they say, they are compelled to confess, that a thing exists which is not, because it has no substance f.

e i. e. As the Delphin editor well observes, this proposition affirms, that there is a negation of goodness in pleasure, which certainly is nugatory and sophistical. For what is an affirmation of a negation, but a mere negation ?

f As affirmation is of that which exists, so negation is of that which does not exist. Hence if the sentence, that which has no substance, is not, is affirmative, the expression is not will denote existence, and so that will exist which is not. The passage is, as the Delphin 'editor observes, most intricate, but his interpretation appears to me to be very far from developing the meaning of it. For it is, comp ellentur fat eri illud, quocl nullam habct substantiam, esse id quod non est ; i. e. u they are compelled to confess that what has no substance, is that which is not.

378 APUI.EIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

Moreover, a proposition, as Plato says in the Theaetetus, consists of two, and those the smallest, parts of speech, a noun and verb ; as, Apuleius discourses, which is either true or false, and is therefore a proposition, lienee some have thought that these two are the only parts of speech, because a perfect sentence may be made from these alone, and this is because they abundantly comprehend what is intended to be signified. But adverb, pronoun, participle, and conjunction, and other things of this kind which grammarians enumerate, are not more parts of speech, than flags are parts of a ship, or hairs of men ; or certainly, in the whole conjunction of speech, these are to be considered in the place of nails, and pitch, and glue. Farther still, of the twro before-mentioned parts, the one is denominated subjective, as being subject or situated under ; as, Apuleius ; but the other is declarative [or enunciative] ; as, he discourses, or does not discourse; for it declares what Apuleius does. It is lawful also to extend each of these parts into many words, the same power [as to meaning] remaining ; as if, instead of Apuleius, he should say, a Platonic philosopher of Madaur a; and also, if, instead of discoursing , you should say, he employs speech. Most frequently, however, the subjunctive part is less, but the declarative [or predicative] greater8; and the latter comprehends not only the former, but also other subjective parts h. For not only Apuleius discourses, but likewise many other men, w/ho may be contained under the same enunciation. Unless perhaps the peculiarity of any thing should be predicated of it ; as if you should say, a horse is something capable of neighing. But to neigh is the peculiarity of a horse. Hence, in these peculiarities, the predicate and subject are equally

» Hence the subject is called the less term , but the predicate the greater term.

h Thus animal, which is a genus, and is predicated of’ man. not only comprehends in itself man, but all other species of animals.

extended, and the predicate is not more widely extended, as in other propositions ; since here the same thing may, vice versa, become the subject, and have for its predicate that which it had before for a subject. As if, changing the order, you should say, that which is capable of neighing is a horse. But, where the parts are unequal, you cannot convert after the same manner. For it does not follow that because it is true, every man is an animal , that, on this account, if you convert, it will be true to say, every animat is a man. For to be an animal is not the peculiarity of man, in the same manner as to neigh is the peculiarity of a horse, since there are other innumerable animals besides man. Hence the predicate is known by many indications, though the proposition should be exhibited in a converse order; in the first place, because [that which is declarative or] the predicate may comprehend a much greater number of things than the subject; and, in the next place, because it is never terminated by a noun, but always by a verb *, by which especially it is distinguished from an equal subjective part in those peculiarities11.

It must also be observed, as an example, that as propositions are definite and indefinite, so likewise it is certain that both the subjunctive and declarative particles are partly definite, as, man , animal; and partly indefinite, as, not a man , not an animal. For they do not define what the thing is, since it is not this' thing ; but they only show that it is some other thing than this. Now, therefore, it must be explained how these four propositions1 are affected towards each other, which it will not be foreign to the purpose to survey in a square form. There are, therefore, in the superior line, as may be seen in what follows,

By that which is declarative, or the predicate , Apuleius means not only attribute, but attribute conjoined with affirmation or negation.

k Because affirmation or negation does not fall in a subjective part, as in that which is affirmed or denied, but as in that of which something is affirmed or denied.

1 viz. The universal affirmative, the universal negative, the particular affirmative, and the particular negative.

3S0 APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

the universal affirmative, and the universal negative; as, all pleasure is good, no pleasure is good. And these are said to be incongruous [or contrary] to each other. Likewise, in the inferior line, under both these, these particulars are denoted ; some pleasure is good, some pleasure is not good. And these are said to be nearly equal to each other. Afterwards, two oblique angular lines are drawn; of which one extends from universal affirmative to particular negative ; but the other from particular affirmative to universal negative ; which propositions, being contrary to each other both in quantity and quality, are called alterutra m, i. e. one or the other, because it is now necessary that one of them should be true. And this opposition is said to be perfect and entire. Between the propositions, however, which are nearly equal [or the subcontraries], and those that are incongruous [or contraries], there is a divisible opposition, because the incongruous are never, indeed, at one and the same time true, yet are sometimes at once false ; but those that are nearly equal are, vice versa, never at one and the same time false, yet sometimes are at once true ; and on this account the refutation of either of them confirms the truth of the other, though the confirmation of the truth of either does not confute the other. He, indeed, who proves that either of two contraries is true, subverts the other; yet it does not follow, vice versa, that he who subverts either, establishes on that account the other. But of those propositions that are called altemtra , he who proves the truth of the one refutes the other; and he wrho refutes the one establishes the truth of the other.

Moreover, every universal proposition, when proved to be true, confirms its own particular proposition ; but, if refuted, does not on that account refute it. On the contrary, a particular proposition, if refuted, confutes also its own universal proposition ; but, when proved to be true, does not establish it. An inspection of what is written

m These propositions are called by Aristotle, αντι$ΛτΐΜ»ς «ντ»κίί/Λ*ν«ι, contradictorily opposite, and simply αντι^α? *u, contradictions.

below will easily show that all we have said is true, from the propositions themselves.

All pleasure is good. Contraries. No pleasure is goad.

Some pleasure is good. Sub-. Some pleasure is not good.

Γ σ contraries. ■L σ

For here it is evident what that is which is conceded by him who proposes any thing. But each universal is subverted in a threefold manner, when either its own particular proposition is shown to be false, or either of two other propositions is demonstrated to be true, whether it be a contrary or contradictory. It is confirmed, however, by one mode, if the proposition which contradicts it is shown to be false. On the contrary, a particular proposition is subverted indeed by one mode, if its contradictory is demonstrated to be true. But it is confirmed in a threefold manner, if its universal proposition is true, or either of the two others is false, whether it be the subcontrary of it, or its contradictory. We may observe the same things also in equipollent propositions. But those propositions are called equipollent which have the same power, though with a different enunciation, and which are at the same time true, or at the same time false ; viz. one on account of the other, as the indefinite and particular11. Every proposition likewise, if it assumes in the beginning a negative particle, becomes its equipollent contradictory. Thus, since this proposition, all pleasure is good , is an universal affirmative, if negation is placed before it, it will become, not every pleasure is good , having the same power of signification as its contradictory, a certain pleasure is not good. This also must be understood to take place in the other three propositions.

n Sach as, man is learned; a certain man is learned.

382 apuleius ox the doctiuxes of the

But it is now requisite to speak of conversion. A universal negative, therefore, and its contradictory, i. e. a particular affirmative proposition, are called convertible propositions, because the particles of them, i. e. the subject and the predicate, may always change places with each other, the condition of truth or falsehood still remaining. For, as this proposition is true, no prudent man is impious , thus also, if you change the places of the terms, it will be true, that no impious man is prudent. In like manner, as it is false that no man is an animal ; so, if you convert, it will be false that no animal is a man. Thus, too, a particular affirmative proposition is converted, a certain grammarian is a man , and a certain man is* a gramma - rian, which the two other propositions cannot always effect. For though they may sometimes be converted0, yet they are not on that account called convertible, since that which sometimes deceives is not assumed as a thing which is certain. Each proposition, therefore, must be investigated through all its significations, in order to discover whether the propositions accord with each other, even when they are converted. Nor, in reality, are they innumerable, but five only. For either the peculiarity is predicated of a certain thing, or genus, or difference, or definition [i. e. species] p, or accident ; nor, besides these, can any other be found in any proposition. Thus, if you place man as a subject, whatever you may predicate of him, you will either signify his peculiarity, as that he is risible; or his genus, as that he is an animal ; or his dif-

0 Thus the proposition, that every horse is capable of neighing, may he simply converted into the proposition, every thing capable of neighing is a horse. Because, however, these terms are reciprocal and convertible from accident, there is no certain rule for propositions of this kind ; for in these the attribute must not be more extended than the subject.

11 The perfect and essential definition of a thing, which is absolutely called definition, is a sentence explaining what a thing is; or it is an explanation of the thing, defined through essential terms; as, man is a rationed animal. But the thing defined is always species. And hence definition is here used by Apuleius as equivalent to species.

PHILOSOPHY OF PLATO. — BOOK ITT.

ference, as that he is rational ; or his definition, as that he is a rational mortal animal; or that which is accidental to him, as that he is an orator. For every thing declarative [or which is the predicate of a certain thing], either may, vice versa , become the subject of that thing, or may not. But if it may, it either signifies what it is, and is the definition of it, or it does not signify this, and is the peculiarity of it. And if it cannot become the subject of it, either it is that which ought to be placed in the definition, and is genus, or difference ; or it is that which ought not to be placed, and is accident. Through these things, therefore, it may be known, that a particular negative is not convertible.

A universal affirmative, likewise, is not convertible, yet it may be particularly converted. Thus, when the proposition is, every man is an animal, it cannot be so converted, as that it will be true that every animal is a man; but it may be particularly converted, a certain animal is a man. This will take place, however, in the simple conversion, which, in the inferences of conclusions, is called reflection. For there is also another q conversion of propositions, which not only produces a contrary order of the terms, but also brings the terms themselves to the contrary of what they were before ; so that the term which was definite becomes indefinite ; and, on the contrary, that which was indefinite becomes definite. The remaining two propositions admit this conversion alternately, viz. the universal affirmative, and the particular negative; as, every man is an animal; every thing which is not an animal is riot man. In like manner, a certain animal is not rational; a certain thing which is not rational is an animal. You will find, through those five before-mentioned species, that this perpetually takes place, conformably to what we have asserted. But the connexion of propositions, through another common particle [i. e. through the middle term], by means of which

3 This is called, in the schools, conversion by contraposition.

384 A PU LEI US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

they are copulated to each other, is called their conjugation ; for thus they are able to accord in one conclusion. And this common particle is necessarily either the subject in each proposition, or the predicate in each; or it is the subject in one, and the predicate in the other. Three formulae, therefore, [or figures] are produced r ; of which one is called the first, when that common particle is a subject in one term, and a predicate in the other. And this order is not dependent merely on enumeration, but is distinguished by the dignity of the conclusions. For the third formula [or figure] is the last, because nothing is concluded in it except that which is particular. The second figure is superior to this, which has universal conclusions, yet they are only such as are negative. Hence the first figure so excels the rest, because it concludes in every kind of inferences. But I call the infer-

r The quantity of a proposition, so far as pertains to syllogism, is twofold, universal and particular. And it must be observed, that a universal affirming proposition has the symbol A ; a universal denying proposition E ; a particular affirming has the symbol I ; and a particular denying the symbol O.

The distinct modes of syllogism are sixteen, which, being multiplied according to triple figure, make forty-eight. But, of these sixteen, eight remaining eight are useful; viz. AA, AE, AI, AO, EA, El, IA, OA ; and they are so disposed in figures, that four modes are contained in the first, four in the second, and six in the third figure; all of them being direct. These are contained in the following barbarous terms, invented by the schoolmen: 1. Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Berio. 2. Cesare , Camestres , Festino, Baroco. 3. Oarapti, Felapton, Disamis, Dctisi, Bocarclo, Ferison. In these words three syllables signify as many propositions; the first syllable signifying the major; the second the minor; the last the conclusion. There are also five indirect modes in the first figure, viz. Baralipton, Celanlis , Dabilis, Fapesmo , Frisesmorum.

Galen invented a fourth figure, in which the middle term is the predicate of the major proposition, but the subject of the minor. But the rules of this figure are hypothetical, because we cannot, as in the other figures, absolutely determine the quality of either of the premises, as they may both of them be affirmative, or may either of them be negative. Aristotle did not acknowledge this figure, on account of the unnatural order of the terms.

ence, or conclusive proposition, that which is collected and inferred from the premises, or the things admitted. Moreover, the premise is a proposition, which is granted by him who answers. Thus, if any one should ask. Is not every thing honest good? it is a proposition. And if he should say that he assents, the interrogation being taken away, it is a premise, or thing admitted ; which, nevertheless, is commonly called a proposition; as, every thing honest is good. To this add another premise, similarly proposed and granted, viz. every thing good is useful.

From this conjugation, as we shall presently show, the conclusion of the first figure is formed ; which if direct is universal, as, every thing honest therefore is useful ; but if indirect, particular, as, something useful therefore is honest ; because a universal affirmative proposition can only be converted particularly in indirect conclusions. But I say the conclusion will be direct, when the same particle [or term] is the subject as well in the conjugation as in the conclusion3, and likewise, when the same term is predicated in both. And the conclusion will be indirect, when this takes place vice versed. Moreover^ the whole of that reasoning which consists of propositions that are granted and inference, is denominated a collection [i.e. a syllogism, συλλογισμός], or conclusion, and may be thus most aptly defined, according to Aristotle : “ A discourse, in which certain things being admitted , something else different r from the things admitted necessarily happens, in consequence i of the existence of these [admitted propositions']'1” In which

i. e. When the subject of the conclusion is also the subject of one of the premises, but the predicate of the same conclusion is the predijlicate of the other of the premises; which takes place only in the four 1 | direct modes of the first figure.

I* i. e. When the predicate of the conclusion becomes the subject of one of the premises, but the subject of the conclusion is predicated in the lother; and this alone happens in the five indirect modes of the first figure.

u ΈνΧλογισ-ρος δε ζστι Χογος, εν φ τ εδεντ&ν τινων, ετΒξον τι των χζψΛνων, s£ dtvrt γκης σνρζαινει, ταντα είναι. Aristot. Analytic. Prior, cap. i,

38G APULF.IUS OX THE DOCTK1NF.S OF THE

definition, no other species of discourse is to be understood than that which is enunciative ; which, as we have before observed, is alone either true or false. Hence, it is said in the plural number, certain things being admitted, because a syllogism is not produced from one proposition only being granted; though to Antipaterx the Stoic, contrary to the opinion of all men, this conclusion [from one proposition] appeared to be complete ; viz. 1 ou see, therefore you live; which, however, is only complete after this manner; If you see you live ; but you do see, and therefore you live. Further still, because we wish to conclude, not that which is granted to us, but that which is denied; hence it is added by Aristotle in the definition, that something else different from the things admitted necessarily happens. On this account, the formulae3 of the Stoics are superfluous, which dissimilarly conclude that which is not the same : as. Either it is day, or it is night ; but it is day. The doubling likewise the same thing is superfluous : as, If it is day , it is day ; therefore it is day. For they in vain collect what is spontaneously granted without controversy. But when I say, If it is day, there is light ; but it is day, and therefore there is light; it is more probable, that I do not badly infer something else than what was granted to me. For the assertion there is light, which is in the conclusion, was also in the proposition. Nevertheless, we may confute this by saying, that the assertion therefore there is light, is enunciated in one way in the conclusion, as showing that there is now light ; and wras assumed in another way in the proposition, in which it is not said that there is now light, but it only follows that if it is day, there will also be light.

It makes, however, a great difference whether you affirm that a certain thing is, or that it only is accustomed

x This Antipater is frequently mentioned by Diogenes Laertius in his life ot Zeno, the founder of the Stoics. lie wrote a treatise on the World, was a Tyrian, and, according to Plutarch, the preceptor of Cato.

y The dialectic of the Stoics is copiously explained bv Diogenes Laertius in his life of Zeno.

PHILOSOPHY OF PLATO,— -BOOK ΓΙΓ.

to be, when something else precedes. Likewise that which is necessarily comprehended in the same definition, is distinguished by the power of the conclusion from the similitude of induction. For in induction certain things are granted : as for instance* Man moves his lower jaw , and so does a horse , an ox, and a dog. From these things being granted, something else is inferred in the conclusion ; as. Therefore every animal moves its lower jaw ; which, as it is false in the crocodile, you may, the preceding things being granted, refuse to admit the inference, which it was not lawful for you to refuse in the conclusion2. For the inference is comprehended in the things previously admitted, and therefore it is added in it, that it necessarily takes place, lest the last part of the definition should be deficient. But it shows from the very same things which were admitted, that the conclusion ought to be inferred, though unless they are admitted, it will not be certain. Of these particulars, however, enough has been said.

It is now, however, requisite to show what the modes and conjugations are, by which true conclusions are produced within a certain number of the predicative genus. For in the first figure, there are found only nine modes and six conjugations'1. But in the second figure, there are four modes and three combinations b. And in the third figure, six modes and five conjugations; the

2 It is not lawful for him to reject this inference in the conclusion, who admits the induction to extend to every animal ; but it is lawful for him who does not admit its universality.

a By conjugation, Apuleius means the combination of the two premises of a syllogism, independent of the conclusion. Hence, if you direct your attention to the two former syllables of the several barbarous terms before mentioned, viz. Barbara , Celarent , Darii, &c. you will find that there are only these six combinations, A A, EA, AI, El, AE, IE. For each of the three former occur twice, viz. A A, in the words Barbara and Baralipton; EA in the words Celarent and Celantes ; and A l in the words Darii and Dabitis.

b As Apuleius denies that the conjugation of the second mode, viz. Camestres , differs from the conjugation Cesare of the first mode,. lienee he says that, there are only three combinations.

peculiarities of which I shall demonstrate in their proper order; previously observing that a legitimate conclusion cannot be produced, either from particular propositions alone, or from such as are negative alone, because from them false inferences may frequently be deduced. Besides, if one negative is added to many affirmative propositions, a negative, and not an affirmative conclusion will be produced ; so that the mixture of one negative proposition will predominate over the restc. Similar to this also is the power of particular propositions. For a particular mixed with universal propositions makes a particular conclusion. In the first formula or figure, therefore, the first mode is that which produces directly a universal affirmative conclusion, from universal affirmative premises; as,

Every tiling just is honest;

Every thing honest is good ;

Therefore, every thing just is goorl J.

But if you conclude indirectly, A certain good therefore is just, the fifth mode6 is produced from the same combination. For I have above taught, that an universal affirmative proposition can thus alone be converted.

c Thus, too, with respect to necessary and contingent propositions, Proclus, in his Commentary on the First Alcibiades, lately published by Victor Cousin, Parisiis, in tom. ii. p. 235, observes : “ For as those who are skilled in dialectic say, though some one should employ ten thousand necessary propositions, but should insert among them one contingent proposition, the conclusion will be entirely assimilated to the less excellent [or contingent] proposition.”

d It is well observed by the Delphin editor, that Apuleius every where inverts the order ot the premises, and arranges the major proposition in the second place, which Aristotle with greater rectitude arranges in the first place. Hence, it is requisite to change the above syllogism to the following form :

Every thing honest is good ;

Therefore, every thing just is good.

And so of the rest which afterwards occur.

i. e. Baralipton, which is the first of the indirect modes of the first figure.

The second mode [of the first figure] is that which produces directly an universal negative conclusion from universal propositions, one of which is affirmative, and the other negative ; as.

Nothing that is honest is base ;

Therefore, nothing that is just is base.

But if you conclude inversely, Therefore, nothing base is just, you will produce the sixth modef. For, as it has been already observed, an universal negative proposition is converted into itself. But we ought to remember, that the subject is to be assumed from the affirmative proposition, in order to conclude in the second mode; and that on this account it is to be considered as prior, though the negative proposition is enunciated before itg. In a similar manner also in the other modes, the proposition which is prior in power is understood to be the first in order. But in the sixth mode, the subject is assumed from a negative proposition. And this is the only difference between them.

The third mode11 [of the first figure] is that which concludes directly a particular affirmative from a particular and an universal affirmative ; as,

Every thing honest is useful ;

Therefore, something just is useful.

But if you conclude inversely, Therefore , something useful is just, you will produce the seventh1 mode. For, as we have before observed, an affirmative particular proposition is converted into itself.

f i. e. Celantes ; but with Apuleius Calentes.

£ According to Aristotle, however, the subject is to be considered as posterior. For the attribute of the conclusion is called the greater extreme, and from it the first of the premises is denominated the major. But the subject ought to be found in the second of the premises, which on this account is called the minor , because it is denominated the less extreme.

' i. e. Oar ii ; but with Apuleius Dirai.

] i. e. Dabilis; but with Apuleius Dibatis.

The fourth modek [of the first figure] is that which infers directly a particular negative, from a particular affirmative and an universal negative ; as,

Nothing honest is base;

From this mode conversions are found contrary to the former modes. For the eighth and ninth modes preserve the conclusion of this mode, but not inversely like the former modes1. For they only invert the conjugation through equivalent propositions, and in a converse order, so that the negative becomes the prior proposition. And on this account, both are said to conclude through a conversion of the conjugation. For if you convert the universal negative of the fourth mode, and subject to [or place after] it the universal affirmative, from which being inverted the particular affirmative was formed, the eighth mode will be produced, which infers indirectly a particular negative from two universal propositions, one of which is negative, but the other affirmative ; as,

Every thing honest is just ;

The ninth mode also, through a similar conversion, infers indirectly a negative particular from an universal negative and a particular affirmative ; as,

Notiiing base is honest ;

Something honest is just ;

The reason, however, why the fourth mode alone produces two other modes, but each of the rest only one other mode, is this, that, if we convert both the propositions of the first mode, an ineffectual conjugation of two par-

k i. e. Ferio ; but with Apuleius Fireo.

1 It is uncertain whence Apuleius derived what he here says about the eighth and ninth modes. He certainly did not derive them from Aristotle, as the Delphin editor well observes; since that philosopher rejects the live indirect modes of the first figure as useless.

ticular propositions will be produced : but if we convert one of them alone, either the second or the third figure will be produced. Thus also, if you convert both the propositions of the second mode, the conjugation of the ninth will be produced, which, as we have already shown, is generated from the fourth mode, because the universal affirmative of the second mode cannot be converted, except particularly ; but if you alone convert one of the propositions, the second or the third figure will be produced. From among these nine modes, therefore, of the first figure, the four first are denominated indemonstrable; not because they cannot be demonstrated, as is the case with the wholeness of the seam, which is not demonstrable, and the quadrature of the circle ; but because they are so simple, and so manifest, that they do not require to be demonstrated ; so as that they may produce the rest, and impart credibility to them from themselves.

Now, therefore, let us deliver the modes of the second figure. The first mode in this figure, is that which infers directly an universal negative from an universal affirmative and an universal negative ; as.

Therefore, nothing just is base.

This mode is reduced to the second indemonstrable mode, by converting the second proposition of it,

m In the original universitas mark. And if Apuleius had written in Greek, he would have used the word οΧοτης, wholeness , for universitas. But he calls the sea a wholeness , because it is one of the wholes of which the universe consists, according to Plato, who says in the Timasus, that “ the Bemiurgus, or artificer of the universe, fabricated the world one whole, perfect from containing in itself all wholes.” Concerning these wholes, the theory of which is of the greatest importance in the philosophy of Plato, see book iii. of my translation of Proclus on the Timoeus. Apuleius, looking to the magnitude of this wholeness of the sea, which had not been ascertained in his time, says, that it cannot be demonstrated. The Delphin editor, however, having no conception of the true meaning of universitas mark , suggests that we should read instead of it, universiin Arist. hoc est Arkloleles astimat , fyc. !

392 APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES OF TIIE

The second mode is that which infers directly an universal negative from two universal propositions, the one negative, but the other affirmative ; as.

Therefore, nothing base is just.

This mode does not differ in conjugation from the former mode, except that it derives the subjective particle [or the subject of the conclusion] from a negative proposition, because the order of the enunciation is so changed that it cannot be employed in the first figure.

The third mode is that which infers directly a particular negative from a particular affirmative and an universal negative ; as.

If we convert the universal negative of this mode, the fourth indemonstrable mode will be produced n, from which this originates.

The fourth mode is that which infers directly a particular negative, from a particular negative and an universal affirmative ; as.

Something just is not base;

Every thing evil is base ;

Therefore, something just is not evil.

This is the only mode in the second figure which is demonstrated through the impossible ; of which proposition we shall speak when we have explained the modes of the third figure.

In the third figure the first mode0 is that which, from

n Then the following syllogism, in Ferio , will be produced :

Nothing honest is base;

Λ i. e. Darapti. But, in the whole of this third figure, nothing but what is particular is concluded.

two universal affirmatives, infers, both directly and inversely, a particular affirmative ; as.

Every tiling just is honest;

Every thing just is good ;

Therefore, something honest is good.

Or thus, Therefore, something good is honest. For it is of no consequence which you make the subjective particle from those two propositions, because it is of no consequence which you enunciate first. Hence Theophrastus was not right in thinking that, on this account, this mode is not one only, but two.

The second modep [of this third figure] is that which infers directly a particular affirmative, from a particular and universal affirmative ; as.

Every thing just is good;

Therefore, something honest is good.

The third mode q is that which infers directly a particular affirmative, from an universal and particular affirmative ; as.

Something just is good ;

Therefore, something good is honest.

The fourth mode1- is that which infers directly a negative particular from an universal affirmative and an universal negative ; as.

Nothing just is evil;

Therefore, something honest is not evil.

The fifth modes infers directly a negative particular, from an affirmative particular and an universal negative ; as,

Nothing just is evil;

Therefore, something honest is not evil.

p In the schools this mode is the fourth, and not the second, and is Datisi. i i. e. Disamis.

r In the schools, this is the second mode, Felapton.

In the schools, the sixth mode, Ferison .

And the sixth mode’ infers directly a particular negative from an universal affirmative and a particular negative ; as,

Something just is not evil ;

Therefore, something honest is not evil.

Of these six modes, the three first are reduced to the third indemonstrable, by converting the prior proposition of the first and second. The third has the same conjugation with the second, differing only in this one thing, that it derives its subjective particle [or the subject of its conclusion] from an universal proposition. On this account it is reduced to the third indemonstrable, not only by a conversion of proposition, but also of conclusion. The fourth, likewise, and fifth modes, originate from the fourth u indemonstrable, by converting their prior propositions. But the sixth mode cannot be reduced to any indemonstrable, neither by a conversion of both nor of one of its propositions ; but it is alone demonstrated through the impossible, in the same manner as the fourth mode in the second figure, and on this account both are the last that are enumerated. The order, however, of the rest, in all the figures, is made according to the difference of the conjugations and conclusions. For, because affirmation is prior to negation, and the universal is more powerful than the particular, the universal is prior to the particular conclusions, and in both the modes affirmation and the conclusion are similar; and that mode precedes which is more swiftly reduced to the indemonstrable,

1 In the schools, this is tiie fourth mode, Bocardo , and is only proved by a reduction to the impossible. Bocardo is erroneously said by the Delphin editor to be the fifth mode, which is Datisi.

u The reduction of these inodes is through the same letter from which the terms that indicate them begin. Thus, all the modes beginning from B are reduced to the mode Barbara, except Baroco and Bocardo , which are only demonstrated through the impossible. All the modes beginning from C are reduced to Celarcnt ; all those beginning from D to Durii; and, lastly, all beginning from l· to Berio.

PHILOSOPHY OF PLATO. BOOK 111. 395

i. e. by one conversion, which is one proof that those modes are certain in their conclusions.

There is also another demonstration common to all the modes, and likewise to the indemonstrables, which is called demonstration through the impossible, and is denominated by the Stoics the first constitution, or the first exposition, and which they thus define: If a certain third thing is inferred from two other things, one of them , with the contrary of the conclusion , infers the contrary of that which remains x. But the ancients define it as follows : If the inference of any conclusion is subverted , one of the propositions being assumed , the other ivi/l be subverted. Which thing was invented against those, who, though they admit the premises, yet impudently deny that which is inferred from them. For through this definition they are reduced to impossibilities, since, from what they deny, something contrary to that which preceded is found to take place. Moreover, it is impossible that contraries should be, at one and the same time, true. Hence they are compelled, through what is impossible, to admit the conclusion. Nor have those who are skilled in dialectic in vain established that to be the true mode, in wdiich the contrary of the conclusion, together with one of the premises, confutes the other. The Stoics, indeed, think that the conclusion is denied, or one of the premises confuted, by the negative particle only being prefixed; such, for instance, as, every , not every ; a certain thing, not a certain thing. Eight contrary arguments, therefore, are produced, which are opposed to each conclusion, because each of the premises is -subverted in a twofold respect, and twice four conclusions are formed; at one time a negative particle being prefixed to the inference, but at another the contradictory of the

x This is evident from the laws of reduction to the impossible ; for, the contrary of the conclusion being assumed, and one of the premises, the contrary of the other must be inferred, which was not assumed.

390 A PU LEI US ON THE DOCTRINES OF THE

conclusion being assumed. Let the first indemonstrable mode be for an example.

Every thins; just is honest :

Every tiling honest is good ;

Therefore, every thing just is good.

lie who denies this conclusion, the premises being granted, must necessarily say. Something just is not good. If you place before this the former of the two premises, viz. Every thing just is honest , the conclusion will be made according to the sixth mode of the third figure, Therefore, something honest is not good; and this is repugnant to the second proposition, which granted that Every thing honest is <iood. This conclusion also will be entirely contrary, if, the same things remaining, you infer its equivalent ; as. Therefore , not every thing honest is good. In like manner, two other conclusions will be produced, if, in the same way as we have now proposed the prior proposition, we assume the posterior, viz. Something just is not good ; every thing; honest is good; for two conclusions of the fourth mode of the second figure will be produced, viz. Theiefore, not every thing just is honest ; or. Therefore , something just is not honest. And each of these will be equally repugnant to the former proposition, which granted that Every thing just is honest. But, these four conclusions remaining, the proposition only being changed, if, in the place of the premise, which was, Something just is not good, you make it to be, Not every thing just is good , so that the inference may be subverted in a twofold respect, there will be four other conclusions writh the same mutations.

Also, if, instead of the same proposition, you make the premise to be, Nothing just is good, so that the inference may be subverted in a threefold respect, four other conclusions, making a third four, will be formed, in those syllogisms alone which will have an universal conclusion; for these alone can be subverted in a threefold respect ; but in the others there are only eight, which may be

separately formed in the several modes through all the figures, according to the example which we have pro-

Moreover, by the assistance of letters, as in [mathematical] hypothesis, the order of the propositions and the parts being inverted, but their power remaining, let the first indemonstrable mode be,

A is affirmed of every B,

And B of every C ;

Therefore, A also must be affirmed of every C.

They begin from the attribute y, and, on this account, from the second proposition. This mode, which is thus formed, is inversely as follows :

Every C is B ;

Every B is A ;

Therefore, every C is A.

But the Stoics employ numbers in the place of letters; as.

If the first [is admitted, then] the second;

But the first [is admitted] ;

Therefore, the second.

Aristotle, however, delivers only four indemonstrable modes in the first figure ; but Theophrastus and others enumerate five: for they add the indefinite proposition, and collect the indefinite conclusion. This it is .superfluous to discuss, since the indefinite is assumed for the particular, and there will be the same modes as there are from particular propositions. Besides, we have already exhibited four modes in the first figure, which, if any one wishes to double, assuming the indefinite for the

y i. e. From that proposition in which the attribute of the conclusion is found. This proposition Apuleius every where makes to be the second, the first with him being that in which the subject of the same conclusion is found ; in which arrangement lie dissents from Aristotle, as has been before observed.

apulf.ius on the doctrines of the

particular, and subjoining the indefinite conclusion, all the modes will be twenty-nine2.

Aristo % however, the Alexandrian, and some more recent Peripatetics, have, besides these, introduced five other modes of particular instead of universal conclusion ; three in the first figure, and two in the second. But it is most absurd for him to whom more is conceded, to infer less. It is demonstrated, however, that there are onlv nineteen b certain modes in the three formulae [or figures] of them, which we have above exhibited. For there are four propositions, two of which are particular, and two universal. Each of these, as Aristotle says, is conjoined in four modesc, so that it is subjected to itself, and placed before the three others ; and thus there will be in each figure sixteen conjugations. Of these, six are equally useless in all the figures; two indeed, when one of the negative propositions precedes the other [and also itself]; but four when either of the particular propositions, either

r The manuscript of Carnot has octo and vlginti. But, as the Delphin editor well observes, it is not clear from this computation of Apuleius, whether twentyeight or twenty-nine is the true reading.

a This Ansto is mentioned by Diogenes Laertius in his life of Zeno the founder of the Stoics, and is said by him to have been a Peripatetic.

b For Apuleius had before observed, that in the first figure there are nine modes; in the second four; and in the third six, which altogether make nineteen modes. Bv the moderns also who make four figures, the different varieties of legitimate syllogisms are said to be nineteen ; viz. in the first figure four, AAA, All, EAE, EIO. In the second figure also four, AEE, AOO, EAE, EIO. In the third figure six, AAI, ΑΙΓ, EAO, EIO, IAI, ΟΛΟ. And in the fourth figure five, AAI, AEE, EAO, EIO, and IAI.

t: For instance, the universal proposition A Ϊ9 thus conjoined, A A, AE, ΑΓ, AO; and if the same thing is done in the three others, there will be sixteen conjugations; viz.

precedes itself, or is subjoined to the other. For nothing can be concluded, wherever there are two particulars, or two negatives. There will remain therefore to each figure ten conjugations.

Moreover, two*1 of these are useless, as well in the first as in the second figure ; viz. when an universal precedes a particular affirmative. In a similar manner also in the first and third figure, twoe are rejected, in which a particular negative antecedes either of the affirmative propositions. Hence, there will remain sixf conjugations of the first figure, but in nine modes. And in the other two figures, there will still be eight modes ; of which one is not allowed in either5, when an universal negative precedes a particular affirmative. Again, of these seven conjugations which remain, there are four which are particularly false in the second figure; viz. when an universal affirmative is conjoined either with itself, or with its own particular proposition, and this in any order you please ; or when one of these precedes. Besides, there are twoh that are peculiarly useless in the third figure ; when either of the negative propositions precedes an universal affirmative. And we have before shown, that there are three certain conjugations in the second, but five in the third figure, when we reduced them to the six conjugations of the first figure. Hence, of the forty-eight1 conjugations, fourteen only are allowed. But the remaining thirty -four which I have enumerated,

d Viz. With Aristotle IA and OA ; but with Apuleius A I and AO.

f Viz. A A, EA, AI and El in the direct modes ; and besides these, AE and IE in the indirect; which conjugations, as has been before observed, Apuleius every where inverts. e Viz. IE, with Apuleius El.

11 I hese two are AE and AO; but with Apuleius, EA and 0Λ. Before also, he removed IE, both from this third, and the second figure.

Since sixteen conjugations may be made in each figure, and there are three figures, thrice sixteen, i. e. forty-eight, may he made.

400 APULEIUS ON THE DOCTRINES, &C.

are very properly rejected, because they are capable of inferring what is false from what is true ; which may be easily proved in those five above-mentioned significations of genus, peculiarity, See. The conclusions themselves, howrever, show, that not more modes than those which have been before enumerated, can be produced from the fourteen conjugations which w7e have demonstrated ; whether the conclusions are assumed directly or inversely, so far as truth suffers this to take place. And hence, the number of them cannot be increased.