"Marvellous, indeed, is the mystery of our being," exclaimed Anaxagoras.
"It involves the highest of all mysteries," rejoined Plato; "for if man did not contain within himself a type of all that is,—from the highest to the lowest plane of existence,—he could not enter the human form. At times, I have thought glimpses of these eternal truths were revealed to me; but I lost them almost as soon as they were perceived, because my soul dwelt so much with the images of things. Thus have I stood before the thick veil which conceals the shrine of Isis, while the narrow streak of brilliant light around its edges gave indication of unrevealed glories, and inspired the eager but fruitless hope that the massive folds would float away, like a cloud before the sun. There are indeed times when I lose the light entirely, and cannot even perceive the veil that hides it from me. This is because my soul, like Psyche bending over the sleeping Eros, is too curious to examine, by its own feeble taper, the lineaments of the divinity whereby it hath been blessed."
"How is Pericles affected by this visitation of the gods upon the best beloved of his children?" inquired Anaxagoras.
"It has softened and subdued his ambitious soul," answered Plato; "and has probably helped him to endure the loss of political honours with composure. I have often observed that affliction renders the heart of man like the heart of a little child; and of this I was reminded when I parted from Pericles at Salamis, whence the galley sailed for Ionia. You doubtless remember the little mound, called Cynos-sema? There lies the faithful dog, that died in consequence of swimming after the ship which carried the father of Pericles, when the Athenians were all leaving their beloved city by advice of Themistocles. The illustrious statesman has not been known to shed a tear amid the universal wreck of his popularity, his family, and his friends; but standing by this little mound, the recollections of childhood came over him, and he wept as an infant weeps for its lost mother."
There was a tremulous motion about the lips of the old man, as he replied, "Perchance he was comparing the constancy of that affectionate animal with the friendship of men, and the happy unconsciousness of his boyhood with the anxious cares that wait on greatness. Pericles had a soft heart in his youth; and none knew this better than the forgotten old man, whom he once called his friend."
Plato perceived his emotion, and answered, in a soothing voice, "He has since been wedded to political ambition, which never brought any man nearer to his divine home; but Anaxagoras is not forgotten. Pericles has of late often visited the shades of Academus, where he has talked much of you and Philothea, and expressed earnest hopes that the gods would again restore you to Athens, to bless him with your wise counsels."
The aged philosopher shook his head, as he replied, "They who would have a lamp should take care to supply it with oil. Had Philothea's affection been like that of Pericles, this old frame would have perished for want of food."
"Nay, Anaxagoras," rejoined Plato, "you must not forget that this Peloponessian war, the noisy feuds in Athens, and afflictions in his own family, have involved him in continual distractions. He who gives his mind to politics, sails on a stormy sea, with a giddy pilot. Pericles has now sent you substantial proofs of his gratitude; and if his power equalled his wishes, I have no doubt he would make use of the alarmed state of public feeling to procure your recall."
"You have as yet given us no tidings of Phidias and his household," said Philothea.
"The form of Phidias sleeps," replied Plato: "His soul has returned to those sacred mysteries, once familiar to him; the recollection of which enabled him while on earth to mould magnificent images of supernal forms—images that awakened in all who gazed upon them some slumbering memory of ideal worlds; though few knew whence it came, or why their souls were stirred. The best of his works is the Olympian Zeus, made at Elis after his exile. It is far more sublime than the Pallas Parthenia. The Eleans consider the possession of it as a great triumph over ungrateful Athens."