customary review may be omitted. In examining the Prometheus of ?schylus we have found three particulars, in which not only ?schyl

of the punishments used by Jove to break the spirit of Prometheus. It was contended, you remember, that if the audience of ?schylus had acquired that direct way of looking phenomena in the face, which is one of the incidents of our modern personality, they would have perceived such an inadequacy between the thunders and earthquakes of Jove, on the one hand, and the immortal spirit of a Titan and a god like Prometheus, on the ot

us directly upon Shelley's p

ave long exhaled, and when the enormous growth of personality has quite rolled away the old lumpish terror that stood before the cave of the physical and darkened it, in such a time it would, of course, be truly ama

d surroundings, and of setting it in modern thoughts before modern men, would

he sparrow's no

dawn on the

home in his

ong, but it pl

bring home the

ear, they sa

shells lay

of the l

s to their

lowing of t

eir safe e

ay the wee

sea-born tr

unsightly, n

eir beauty

the sand and th

his wit to come and perch upon his finger, and be the tame bird of him and his fellows thereafter and forever? But, secondly, it is still more conclusive upon our present point, of the different demands made by the personality of our time from that of ?schylus, to observe how Shelley's own sense of this difference, his own modern instinct, has led him to make most material alterations of the old fable, not only increasing the old list of physical torments with a number that are purely spiritual and modern, but also by dignifying at once the character of Prometheus and the catastrophe of the play with that enormous motive of forgiveness which seems to be the largest outcome of the developed personality. Many of you are aware of the scholastic belief that the Prometheus Bound of ?schylus was but the middle play of a trilogy, and that the last showed us a compromise

heus e

ds and demons,

ng those bright a

d I alone of

h sleeples

ears of sleep-un

aye divided

d years, tortur

pair,-these a

r than that whic

e unenvie

; though Shelley retains and even multiplies the physical torments of ?schylus. A few lin

wall of eagle-ba

dead, unmeasure

st, or shape o

aciers pierce m

eezing crystals;

burning cold

hquake fiend

ivets from my q

split and clo

ir wild abysse

the storm, ur

nd afflict me w

e of Mercury Jove begins to stir up

r, look!

roots yon huge s

God's thunder

mentioned but which we will have frequent occasion to notice when we come to read the modern novel together; and that is in t

ley here of an inconsistency in his scene; for how could this "snow-loaded cedar" of Ione exist with propriet

against Jove which he now desires to recall; but it would seem that in order to recall it he wishes to hear the exact words of it. "What was that curse?"-he exclaims at the end of the speech; "for ye all heard me speak." To this question we have page after page of replies

rometheus before the reader is consummated by raising up th

d a hundred years he would never have become a man: he was penetrated with modern ideas, but penetrated as a boy would

f his Prometheus Unbound and render it unnecessary for me t

ministers; but in the midst of a short speech to them he is suddenly swept into hell for everlasting punishment. Here, of course, Shelley makes a complete departure from the old story of the compromise between Jove and Prometheus; Shel

d and has gone with Asia and Panthea to his eternal paradise above the earth, and a final radiant picture of the reawakening of man and nature under the new régime has closed up the whole with the effect of a transformation-scene. Yet, upon all this, Shelley drags in Act IV. which is simply leaden in ac

ouds float

s gleam

semble o

gathered

delight, by th

ke with

ce in th

here

boughs ar

with new

ows and

sic are

f a spirit from

s mock th

thunder o

ere ar

for, being the chorus o

he spirits of a

the figured c

ur being and da

he d

Vo

he d

-cho

low th

-cho

the lute of

the voice of l

e wand of power

choru

s leap in the

or

ce on the floo

ong heaven's

ay that too s

light ere the

ngry Hours

he day like a

and stumbled w

htly dells of t

weave the my

dance, and s

the spirits of n

uds and sunb

of sp

in the

ance and

ind of gladne

flying-

he Ind

the sea-birds

n a time when many souls which might be poetic gardens if they would compact all their energies into growing two roses and a lily-three poems i

exercised upon matters capable of such treatment-has made for us some strong and beautiful poetry. Here for instance at the opening of Scene I. Act II. we have a charming specimen of the modern poetic treatment of nature and of landscape, full of spiri

s

sts of heaven tho

rit, like a tho

s throng to t

haunt the d

learnt repose, t

ests; thou dost

many winds!

as the memor

ad because it

r like joy whi

th, clothing wi

ert of

ason, this the

shouldst come, s

ed, too long d

orms the wingles

e white star is

range light o

ple mountains:

ded mist the

ow it wanes: i

de, and as the

ud unravel t

rough yon peaks o

unlight quive

sic of her se

the crim

delicate spirits whom they hear talking about the woods, but never meet. We are here in an atmosphere very much like that o

ond

ard to

ose more skill'

ich th' enchant

ale faint water-

om of clear l

ons where such

een and gold

indles through t

burst, and the

reathed within t

like meteors t

m, and rein thei

urning crests,

ters of the

ich is as modern as geology. Asia is describing a vision in which the successive deposits in the

e beams

ear the mela

cles: anchors,

marble; quivers,

aded targes,

ariots, and t

tandards, and

th laugh'd, sep

ruction, ruin

on which the e

ut not human;

s works and un

omes, and fanes,

ray annihila

ard, black deep

of unknown w

ch were isles

bony chains,

s, or within

urous strength of

e iron crags;

alligator,

ulsing behemo

asts, and on th

grown contine

multiplied lik

d corpse till

ound it like a

and were abolish

as in a comet,

e my words they

her set of antique considerations I shall offer you on this subject. "Let this opportunity," (he says in one place) "be conceded to me of acknowledging that I have what a Scotch philosopher characteristically terms 'a passion for reform

t appear to me to be the genuine elements of human society, let not the advocates of injustice

share to a greater or less extent with his fellow-beings of the same period. But as we proceed now to examine Bayard Taylor's poem, Prince Deukalion, we find a m

a of ?schylus, strikes us at the outset in the number of the actors. One may imagine the

Youth; the Artist; the Poet; the Shepherd; the Shepherdess; the Medi?val Chorus; Medi?val Anti-Chorus; Chorus of Builders; Four Messengers. With these materials Mr. Taylor's aim is to array before us the whole panorama of time, painted in symbols of the great creeds which have characterized each epoch. These epochs

y installed as ruler of himself and of the world, and Prince Deukalion and Pyrrha, the ideal man and the ideal woman, now for the first time united in deed as well as in inspiration, pace forth into the world to learn it and to enjoy it. Mr. Taylor, as I said, is so explicit upon the poi

over the plain,"-a shepherd awakes and wonderingly describes his astonishment at certain changes which have occurred during his sleep. This shepherd, throughout the book, is a symbol of the mass of the common people, the great her

mp

hepherd voices, a

ath ceased for

your days and

that was lithe

was swift a

al reeds, an

, the copse,

nd the rainbo

nd the gobl

the fountains

d our whispe

ye are doing

the thing tha

wo emerge upon "a shadowy, colorless landscape," and are greeted by a chorus of ghosts, which very explicitly formulates t

s of G

wa

t once we

that once

ions, dea

an ente

here is n

e forgot

t we were

st is

re will

ch in all

y for-

left to row themselves across, Charon pleading age and long-unused joints; and, after many adven

thou

Prome

mortal woman

ve submerge

eary, on the

my repre

characters in Mr. Taylor's presentation. We saw in the last lecture that Prometheus was called the Provident,-the pro-metheus being a looking forward. Precisely opposite is Epimetheus, that is, he who looks epi-upon or backward. Perhaps it is a fair contrast to regard Prometheus as a symbol of striving onward or progress; and Epimetheus as a symbol of the

ne new

Prome

theus

neath the shad

mber, head on n

eases; oldest

ed behind him

ks, and slowly

be thy helper:

s-(coming

I mused. Ha! come

met

work sh

shal

their paths our

lete each othe

t one other

o

"The highest verge of the rocky table-land of Hades, looking eastward." Eos is summoned by Promet

g young Deukali

hen none

hen all

hen force

to sunde

hen good

en love

all me in sta

ur souls h

ach me, I sh

and Pyrrha of long trial, and of

arkness

y come is h

id adama

inst the Futur

backward, Hope

of Mornin

ow in the sk

(to Prince

o Earth,

a (to

fulfil o

n by quoting the subtle and wise words of Prometheus which end the play. The time is the future: the coming man and woman, Deukalion and Pyrrha, after long trial, and long separation, are at last allowed to marry, and to begin their earthly life. These are Prometheus' parting words to them. It would be difficult to imagine one plane of thought farther r

perverte

"destiny" is about, all

ll set your c

of your r

ure herit

ith every e

enly coi

he garment

n everlast

ose source n

he utmost s

panding,

line of Go

endless gro

s toil, b

o know Him

ward the ce

f race is

Earth, or

e inconce

ng that ther

, but may

g through et

life ye c

, nobly u

child in A

ts handful of

o meet His

are all ye

ity until your patience must be severely taxed, I am glad to say that I can now close this whole pending argument which I have announced as our first line of research in a short and conclusive way by asking you to consider for a moment the complete massacre and deliberate extermination of all those sacred bases of personality upon which the fabric of our modern society rests in that ideal society which Plato has embodied in his Republic. Nothing is

d "better appoint certain festivals at which the brides and bridegrooms" (whom the rulers have previously selected with care and secrecy) "will be brought together, and sacrifices will be offered and suitable hymeneal songs composed by our poets;" ... and we "invent some ingenious kind of lots which the less worthy may draw." In short, the provision for marriage is that the rulers shall determine each year how many couples shall marry, and shall privately designate a certain number of the healthiest couples for that purpose; at the annual festival all marriageable couples assemble and draw lots, these

osit them with certain nurses; but the offspring of the inferior, or of the better where they chance to be deformed, will be put away in some mysterious unknown place, as decency requires;" the mothers are afterwards allowed to come to the fold to nourish the children, but the officers are to take the greatest care that "no mother recognizes her own child:" of course thes

ds or any other property; their pay is to be their food and they are to have no private expenses;... Both the community of property and the community of families ... tend to make them more truly guardians; they will not tear the city in pieces by differing about meum and tuum; the one dragging any acquisition which he

o marriage (how grotesquely, by the way, these provisions show alongside of what have gained great currency as "Platonic attachments"): perhaps the two thousand years since Plato, have taught us nothing so clearly as that one of the most mysterious and universal elements of personality, is that marv

to, as he has been called, and the unspeakable Zola (as some of us have learned to call him) have absolutely come

h still from the general direction of personality, the Platonic community of property. If men desire property says Plato, "one man's desi

est way to carry out his desires for property is to respect every other man's desire for property, and thus, in the regulations which will necessa

going on is individual, personal,-not at Washington and that we have every proper desire,-of love in marriage, of having one woman to wife, of cherishing our

ch consideration as this:-A boy ten years old is found to possess a wondrous manual deftness: he can do anything with his fingers: word is brought to Plato: what shall the State do with this boy? Why, says Plato, if he be

ner of materials requiring deftness: instead of cutting off his hands, let us put him at an industrial school, let us set him to playing the violin, let us cherish him, let us develop his personality. So, Plato takes

em: when I neither think nor desire, then I shall rest, then I shall enjoy Nirvana. Plato institutes a Nirvana for the ills of marriag

arguing himself, for the same lack, into a brawny Whitman. Think of Plato's community of property, and listen to Whitman's reverie, as he looks at some cattle. It is curious to notice how you can

ive with animals, they are

ook at them l

ot one is demented with t

le or industrious ov

trolls in the woods of Bengal rather than of New Jersey, is it not more than probable that the first animal he met would be some wicked tiger not only dissatisfied, but perfectly demented with the mania of owning Whitman, the only kind of property the tiger knows? Seriously, when we reflect that property to the animal means no more than food or nest or lair, and that the whole wing-shaken air above us, the earth-surface about us, the earth-crust below us,

passion of giving away property, that is, of charity? What ancient scheme ever dreamed of the multitudinous charitable organizations of some of our large cities? Charity has become organic and a part of the system of things: it has sometimes overflowed

and encouraged by the modern cultus, and behold, instead of breeding a wild pandemonium of selfishness as Plato argued, it has in its orderly progress deve

at seem the greatest and most mischievous errors concerning it, receiving the stamp of me

ples of personality fairly fixed in one's mind, one reads for example the admirable Introduction of Professor Jowett to his translation of Plato's Repub

te arose from his opposition to a tendency of the times which he considered pernicious, and so is characterized rather by moral energy and intensity of feeling than by the quiet and simple resignation to the objection which we find in the great men of the preceding period." But a mere opposition to a tendency of the times could never have bred this elaborate and sweeping annihilation of individuality; an

the twenty-first suddenly have the realization of death come upon him, and shake his soul; so their theory of individuality must have been wholly amateur, not a working element, and without practical result. Surely, we seem in condition to say so with confidence if you run your minds back along this line of development which now comes to an end. For what have we done? We have interrogated ?schylus and Plato, whom we may surely call the two largest and most typic spirits of the whole Greek cultus, upon