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BOTH in the world of literature and in the world of science the name of Lucretius ranks among the greatest, while theology may justly count him the most formidable of opponents. No man before or after him has united in so eminent a degree such contrasted qualities, and it is impos- sible to compare him, for be stands alone. His verse is often not less majestic than that of Virgil, and he sometimes rivals him even in tenderness. Few leaders of scientific thought have possessed in larger measure the gifts of accurate observation, of lucid reasoning, and, above all, of constructive imagination; while in denouncing all belief in Providence or a future life, however his theme repels, yet his utterance rises almost to the grandeur of Hebrew prophecy. Large portions of his poem are, it is true, for us almost barren wastes, for he continually uses arguments which a child might now refute; but his defects in no way detract from his merits. His errors are such as no man in his day could avoid, but his genius is his own. He transmutes the dreary sayings of Epicurus into " golden words, most worthy of perpetual life." He writes not as one who has learned from books, but as one who was himself present at the making of the universe. The mighty vision of countless atoms that clash, rebound, reunite, and separate, ever making and unmaking new figures in their seonian dance, is immediately before his eyes. "The walls of the world part asunder" before his clear gaze. "I see," he says, " the working of things throughout the whole void," and the word video, which he uses, is as striking as it is true. For Lucretius is in fact just one of those "seeing-men" for whom science has as yet no name, and what he sees be makes us see also. The tiny atoms that lie infinitely beneath the limits of sight become plain and palpable as he describes them. He -takes one up, as we look on, and comments on its shape, points -out that though indivisible it has parts, and bids us note that it is neither chipped nor worn. Then he shows us them, clear .as the motes in a sunbeam, " harassed by perpetual motion," and thrown endlessly into countless combinations, until at last, here and there, they fall into some group in which these separate atoms are, as it were, in harmony with one another, -and so form a union which is coherent, capable of resistance, and by consequence adapted to survive. Thus from the mere -casual group of atoms emerges what we first call "a thing," -and, given infinite time, Lucretius sets almost no limit to the variety and complexity of the " things" which atoms may of -themselves evolve; while when they " unite their motions " so happily as to reject alien atoms, and admit into their union .only those which are accordant, then there results what is no longer " a thing," but "an organism." And then, finally, this . organism gives shelter to those atoms, fine to the utmost limit -of tenuity, responsive to the subtlest of shocks, endowed with supreme rapidity of movement, which constitute what we call -" mind" or "soul." The theory has obviously its fatal flaws; but Lucretius observes so shrewdly, presents his case so vividly, and has such lucidity of imagination that he carries -the reader away with him, while in his anticipation of the - conclusions of later scientific thought he seems almost to possess the gift of second sight. The belief, for example, in "the eternal covenants of Nature " on which be rests all his arguments is identical with the doctrine of - universal law which is to-day the basis of all science. His language about atoms is often repeated almost word for word by Newton, and the atomic doctrine, " in whole or in part, was entertained by Bacon, Descartes, Hobbes, Locke, and Boyle." In chemistry Gassendi revived, and Dalton has established, many of the principles he laid down, while in giving to material atoms a structural capacity he differs little from Clifford, and perhaps still less from Tyndall, who in his famous address at Belfast in 1874 paid him the highest of all tributes,—the tribute, not of mere praise, but of close and .critical examination. For assuredly in the world of science there can be no greater distinction than to have spoken words which, even after twenty centuries, are still worthy of the most .oareful weighing.

But Lucretius is certainly not more eminent as a student

• Lucretius: Epicurean and Post. By Dr. John Masson, London: John Murray. Ens. net.] of science than as a poet. His De Reruns Nature is a work which no man who has a mind above the mere fripperies of verse-making can either put aside or forget. Victor Hugo

tells how "at Romorantin, in the poor cottage we had, there," he first came upon "the marvellous book," and read on, "seeing nothing, hearing nothing," from noon to sunset. Nor is such an experience remarkable, for Lucretius is the most impressive of poets. He dominates and overawes the mind. His words go straight home by their sheer power, and his phrases are "vivid as a lightning flash." He is a master of immediate and irresistible effect, nor is any canvas of Rembrandt more telling in its lights and shadows than his

description of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, while the comment which concludes it, Tantunt relligio potuit suadere malorum, has a power beyond the painter's art. In four simple words —mussabat muto ntedecina tintore—he can make the horrors of the great plague at Athens sensible to us. The lines which he dedicates to Epicurus- " Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, et ravines Restinxcit, stellas exortus ut aetherius sol"—

are unequalled in monumental grandeur, and the opening phrase forms the noblest of inscriptions on the statue of Newton in the ante-chapel of Trinity. The most abstract ideas seem to win reality when he deals with them, and he finds even such a theme as the infinity of the universe not too difficult. Recalling how in declaring war the sacred fetials advanced to the edge of a Roman soil and from there hurled a spear over the border, he himself moves in thought to the supposed limit of "the All" and attempts to fling a visionary dart, which must either find further space for flight or be stayed by something beyond; and thus by a single image, familiar to all his readers, be brings the impossibility of conceiving the universe to be finite at once clearly before the mind. The lines, no doubt, in which he discusses .the subject may .,by

some be considered to be rather verse than poetry, but others, perhaps, will consider that the art of illustrating hazy And

obscure conceptions by vivid imagery is in the truest sense poetical, and certainly no one can hesitate to apply that adjective in its fullest sense to the great exordium of the First Book. There is nothing, we believe, in the whole range of poetry which surpasses it. Read, for instance, the lines in which Lucretius addresses Venus :—

" Nam tu sola potes tranquilla pace iuvare Mortalis, quoniam belli fern. moenera Mayors Armipotens regit, in gremium qui saepe tuum se Reicit aeterno devictus vulnere amoris, Atque ita suspiciens tereti cervice reposta Pascit amore avidos inhians in te, dea, visus, Eque tuo pendet resupini spiritus ore. Rune tu, diva, tuo recubantem corpore saucto Circumfusa super, suavis ex ore loquellas Funde petens placid= Romanis, incluta, pacem."

Even torn from their context they charm by their simplicity and their perfection. They seem to flow spontaneously, and

yet no art could better them. There is not a word too little or too much, but every stroke tells. The scene is before our very' eyes, rich in sensuous beauty, drawn with the utmost daring, and yet with perfect purity both of thought and execution. The figure of the war-god is masterly in outline and aglow with passion. Who can read the mighty phrase, inhians in Le, dea, without feeling it ? But the words "with thy hallowed body" banish at once all lower thoughts, and we see only divine loveliness as, "shedding herself around him and above," the glorious goddess " pours forth from her lips sweet low words (loquellas), praying for the Romans

reposeful peace." As a picture it is without flaw, and it appeals not merely to the eye, but to the heart, the imagina- tion, and the intellect. It speaks at once to the patriot, who in those evil days saw his country torn with civil strife; to the poet, for whom it recalls all the legends that are intertwined with Roman history; and to the philosopher, for whom Love and Strife are symbols of that process of growth and decay, of union and division, of building up and pulling down, which the workings of Nature perpetually exhibit.

The fame, however, of Lucretius has bad to bear the burden

of his creed, and men have shrunk from praising a writer whose supreme aim is to overthrow religion. For to rid men's minds from idle dread of angry deities, and, still more, from the terrors that beset the grave, Lucretius holds to be the true consecration of his high gifts. Death, of which Aristotle says that " it is most fearful, for it is an end," seems to him, foe

just the same cause, the surest of consolations. Mors igitur nihil est nobis, negue pertinet hilum is for him the conclusion which has a balm for all care. Death is" nothing," " concerns not one jot," and therefore let us be at rest. Ills there are which must be borne, but, if we will be rid of foolish fretful- ness and empty longings, life is lavish of simple joys, and we may win a sweet serenity of content. Men, indeed, continually recall the brevity of life, and say sadly to themselves- "Iam iam non domes accipiet to laeta, neque uxor Optima nec dukes occurrent oscula nati Praeripere et pectus tacita dulcedine tangent"; but they forget that when once the constituent atoms "have wandered far from sense-giving movements," then all "recollection of self," all regret, and all repining cease. "Away then with tears, rascal ; a truce to complainings," is the cry with which Nature, had she a voice, would chide her peevish and ungrateful children, and the poet, with all the power of indignant eloquence, declares her utterance to be wholly just. To-day, however, few men openly express such views, while Dr. Masson brands them as "abnormal" and repugnant "to human instinct." Yet assuredly they merit consideration, for belief in a future life is certainly not an original instinct in our race. It was almost unknown to the Hebrews ; Plato dare only speak of " a great hope" ; the chief Roman writers either deny or doubt; and the New Testament justly claims that the Gospel "brought life and immortality to light." The thought, indeed, that the soul perishes along with the body (or at least survives only for a time) is, it seems, a thought that is very deeply ingrained in our nature. Few of us can altogether "make our doubts remove," or see always "with unbeclouded eyes"; and the old epitaph, " Perpetuae Securitati," appeals still to our human heart. "To be, or not to be," is not merely "the question" of a poet's dream, but one that in darker hours can still perplex and harass. Dim and shadowy misgivings still beset our mortal faith, and it is just because Lucretius appeals so powerfully to this human weakness, because, in his terrific argument, our ghostly doubts seem to win such reality and substance, that his views deserve a closer examination than they have ever received. Certainly no true Christian, secure in the divine assurance, should fear to look upon the picture Lucretius has drawn. Even if the creed of Lucretius rested upon a far surer foundation of human reasoning than it does, " the holders of the pearl of price," the sharers and partakers in the revelation of God's love and mercy and of the soul's immortality, may sympathise with the courage and sincerity of the poet who "denied divinely the divine,"—who rejected, not a truth that had never been shown him, but only the false gods and false lights of those who knew not the Word. About his poetical genius much has been well written. The relation of his scientific reasoning to modern thought has been discussed by Dr. Masson in the present volume with a knowledge and insight which leave little to be desired. But his critics continually neglect that portion of his work which be himself held to be the pith and marrow of the whole.