not to be born. . . next best for them, when born, to pass 1 the gates of Hades as soon as possible.' The same reflection is made by Sophocles in the well-known passage of the Edipus Coloneus,' Not to be born is the most reasonable, but having seen the light the next best is to go thither whence one came as soon as possible.' 2 Much the same thought is involved in the observation of Menander, ‘The gods take to themselves early in life the one they love.'3 To turn to a later period, we meet, in a distich of Palladas, with a most affecting complaint of the human lot: 'O race of men, much weeping, strengthless, pitiable, swept away down the earth and destroyed.'* Other reflections of a similar pessimistic colouring refer to the evanescent character of happiness, and to the fugitive aspect of human life. Of these it may suffice to quote the heart-stirring words of Cassandra in the 'Agamemnon' of Æschylus: Alas, for the condition of mortals! when prosperous a shadow may overturn them (or-according to Paley—they are to be likened to a shadow or sketch'); if, however, they be in adversity, a moistened sponge blots out the picture.' 75 · πάντων μὲν μὴ φῦναι ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἄριστον κ.τ.λ., νν. 425-428. 2 μὴ φῦναι τὸν ἅπαντα νικᾷ κ.τ.λ., 1225 seq. 3 ὃν οἱ θεοὶ φιλοῦσιν ἀποθνήσκει νέος. ὦ γένος ἀνθρώπων πολυδάκρυτον, ἀσθενὲς, οἰκτρὸν, συρόμενον κατὰ γῆς, καὶ διαλυόμενον. 'Agamemnon,' 1300 seq. Other examples may be found in Euripides: 'Happiness is not enduring, but lasts but for a day' (ὁ δ ̓ ὄλβος οὐ βέβαιος, ἀλλ' ἐφήμερος); and in Homer: 'As is the generation of leaves, so is that of men (οἴη δὴ φύλλων γενεὴ τοιήδε καὶ ἄνδρων). Compare the proverb, 'Man is a bubble' (roμpóλvě ó ävОpwño); also the frequent likening of human life to a shadow (σκιά, σκιᾶς ὄναρ, καπνοῦ okiά, etc.). ROMAN LITERATURE. 19 In Roman literature this pessimistic view of human life becomes still more distinct and dominant. Just as in Greece, in the full flower of her national greatness, the ruling tone was optimistic, so in the period of Roman decadence and dissolution the opposite mood prevails. Although this tone of mind frequently clothed itself in a quasi-philosophical dress, it was none the less a deeply-rooted sentiment of the age underlying all philosophy. It may be traced in the writings of poet and of philosopher, and it is discoverable among the vestiges of popular ideas and sentiments which are still preserved. Of the relation of this temper of mind to certain philosophical ideas, I shall have to speak again presently; here it is enough to illustrate it in its instinctive and unelaborated expressions. It is not necessary to quote the numerous laments of Roman writers respecting the social evils of their time. The O tempora, O mores !' of Cicero represents a widely prevalent despondency in view of the gathering ills of a declining polity. Even the carpe diem teaching of Horace, though wearing a thin disguise of Epicurean philosophy, has a deep-lying tinge of pessimism. It rests on the conviction that life is something shadowy and evanescent, that 'dum loquimur fugerit invida ætas,' and that all high and far-reaching endeavour is futile and foolish. This same despondent vein, seeking to hide itself under a veil of cynical mirth, affected others besides the literary classes. Of this we have evidence in some of the tomb The deep sense of life's sorrow which underlies this instinctive pessimism, expressed itself in a touching and picturesque manner in the customs of the Thracians at birth and death. According to Herodotus (v. 4), these singular people greeted the new-born child with lamentations, enumerating the evils he would have to meet, while the dead were buried with rejoicing and games. inscriptions of the time handed down to us. Take, for example, the following, 'I was nothing, I am nothing, and thou who livest, eat, drink, sport, come! . . . Comrade, who readest this, rejoice in thy life; for after death there is no play, nor laughter, nor any kind of joy what I have eaten and drunk, I have taken with me; all else I have left behind.' Who does not feel the tone of bitter despair with regard to all worthy ends of life that vainly attempts to disguise itself under this forced and ill-timed display of mirth? How profoundly the pessimistic tone entered into the spirit of the time may be seen, too, in the writings of philosophers, even of those whose principles leaned rather, as we shall see later on, to an optimistic conception of the world. Nowhere can one find more gloomy pictures of life than in the writings of some of the Stoics, and these descriptions have all the characteristics of that impulsive and unreasoned form of pessimism which we are now considering. Seneca, for example, in his consolations to Marcia, praises death as the best invention of Nature.' scanning some of the most prominent afflictions of life, he writes: What need to lament the particulars? The whole of life is lamentable. New misfortunes will crowd in upon thee before thou hast paid thy debt to the old ones.'2 In a less bitter tone, Marcus Aurelius, not content with depicting the evanescence of all human affairs, and the nothingness of all human aims, with a view to render the spirit calm and indifferent in the midst of the world's turmoil, holds up 6 After Quoted by Herr Huber in his interesting brochure entitled 'Der Pessimismus.' I am indebted to this work for many of my historical illustrations of pessimism. 2' Ad Marciam,' ch. x. OMAR KHAYYÁM. 21 death as a positive good. The only motive which could attach us to life, and keep us here, is the happiness of being surrounded with men of the same sentiments as our own. But at the present hour the anxiety which the profound discordance in the social life occasions in a reflective mind leads one to exclaim: O death, delay not thy coming.'1 Among other writers of this period I may name Pliny the Elder, who, in the seventh book of his 'Historia Naturalis,' gives vent to the most depressing convictions of the pessimist. 'Would we,' he writes, form a just conclusion, and come to a decision, casting aside all the allurements and illusions of fortune, then we are bound to say that no mortal is happy;' for if there is nothing else, at all events there is the fear lest fortune should fail at last.' With a touch of grim irony which reminds one of Schopenhauer, he enlarges on all the disadvantages which the human race suffers in comparison with the lower animals. By none is life held on a tenure more frail; none are more influenced by unbridled desires for all things; none are sensible of fears more bewildering; none are impelled by a rage more frantic and violent.' An illustration of a pessimism which contemns life as evanescent, and, like Horace's practical philosophy, leads to the pursuit of present enjoyment, is to be found in the Persian astronomer poet, Omar Khayyam. In the following passage we have a fine poetic expression of intellectual despair in view of the mystery of man's origin and ultimate destiny: With them 2 the seed of Wisdom did I sow, 1 Book IX. sec. iii. 2 Doctor and Saint. Into this Universe, and Why not knowing, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.1 In In modern literature these complaints of life's emptiness and instability thicken and grow still more bitter. spite of the optimistic influences which belong to Christianity we find individual writers entertaining the gloomiest conceptions of existence. Much of this complaint takes the shape of antagonism to some optimistic idea put forth in the name of theology or of philosophy, and will have to be spoken of in the next chapter. Here it will be enough to give a few illustrations of its unreasoned expressions. As a striking example of this purely personal and untheoretic pessimism, I may refer to the letters of Diderot to his lover, Sophie Voland. At the time the writer penned these letters he was passing through a curious mental experience, the outcome of which was an utterly joyless view. of life. To be,' he says, 'amid pain and weeping: the plaything of uncertainty, of error, of want, of sickness, of wickedness, and of passions-every step from the moment when we learn to lisp to the time of departure when our voice falters; to live among rogues and charlatans of every kind; to pass away between one who feels our pulse, and another who terrifies us; not to know whence we come, why we are come, whither we go; this is called the most important gift of our parents and of nature-life.' The name of Voltaire will more appropriately fall among the reasoned manifestations of optimism and pessimism. 1 'Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia,' rendered into English verse (Bernard Quaritch, 1872), vv. xxviii. and |