354 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 



world, which began with this remarkable sentence : " There was a 

 time when all things were made." Aristophanes has preserved a 

 description of these cosmogonies, where chaos is represented as the 

 beginning of all things. Love impregnated it, and from their union 

 arose the heavens and the earth, and the sea, and all their inhabit- 

 ants. Hesiod develops this idea, and details the allegorical genera- 

 tion of beings. Here we meet with an idea of two pre-existent and 

 co-eternal principles, the supreme intelligence being personified 

 under the name of Eros, or Love. 



The mysteries, although not mentioned by either Homer or He- 

 siod, are supposed to have existed before their time, and form the 

 link which connects the chain of Greek and oriental philosophy. 

 The transmission of certain doctrines which tended to refine and ele- 

 vate the mind formed a part of their initiation. According to 

 Socrates, Cicero, and Celsus, they recognised a first cause, and in- 

 vested it with the attributes of a supreme judge, the power of re- 

 wards and punishments. They taught some of the phenomena and 

 some of the laws of nature, and admitted the intervention of genii 

 or angels. Finally, these doctrines contained a sort of pantheism, 

 easily reconcileable with the system of emanations. 



The ethics publicly taught by the wise men of early Greece con- 

 sisted chiefly of political dogmas. They were legislators as well as 

 philosophers, and their precepts generally relate to the actions of 

 civil life. This practical wisdom differs essentially from that of the 

 Asiatics, inasmuch as it tends by its commendations to the promotion 

 of virtue and patriotism. 



(To be continued.) 



TWILIGHT MUSINGS. 



TO MYRRHA. 



OH that together we could share this hour, 

 This soft sweet hour of twilight's holy calm, 



When earth looks beautiful, and every flow'r 

 Sheds from its drooping petals tears of balm ! 



That we might be as we have been alone, 



Watching the sunset in the golden west, 

 And the bright stars uprising one by one, 



Like love's sweet heralds in the human breast. 



Thy moulding hand enclasped in mine, thy words 

 Tender and tuneful as the lute's low strain, 



When the faint night- wind breathes amongst its chords, 

 Filling my soul with sweetly thrilling pain. 



Or silent, in those passionate thoughts that need 



An eloquence of more than mortal power, 

 That, gazing in thy blue eyes, I might read 



The love that crowns me with thy heart's rich dower. 



But here I miss thee, and my spirit springs 



O'er space and time to seek thy bosom's shrine 



That home of truth and pure imaginings 



Where ever rest my hopes, my Myrrha, mine. 



HAFED. 



