Part 56 (1/2)
Here again is a demonstration of the absurdity of supposing that the world was made for the use of men (v. 156):--
dicere porro hominum causa voluisse parare praeclaram mundi naturam proptereaque adlaudabile opus divom laudare decere aeternumque putare atque inmortale futurum nec fas esse, deum quod sit ratione vetusta gentibus humanis fundatum perpetuo aevo, sollicitare suis ulla vi ex sedibus umquam nec verbis vexare et ab imo evertere summa, cetera de genere hoc adfingere et addere, Memmi desiperest.
A like cogent rhetoric is directed against the arguments of toleology (iv. 823):--
Illud in his rebus vitium vementer avessis effugere, errorem vitareque praemetuenter, lumina ne facias oculorum clara creata, prospicere ut possemus, et ut proferre queamus proceros pa.s.sus, ideo fastigia posse surarum ac feminum pedibus fundata plicari, bracchia tum porro validis ex apta lacertis esse ma.n.u.sque datas utraque ex parte ministras, ut facere ad vitam possemus quae foret usus.
cetera de genere hoc inter quaec.u.mque pretantur omnia perversa praepostera sunt ratione, nil ideo quoniam natumst in corpore ut uti possemus, sed quod natumst id procreat usum.
nec fuit ante videre oculorum lumina nata nec dictis orare prius quam lingua creatast, sed potius longe linguae praecessit origo sermonem multoque creatae sunt prius aures quam sonus est auditus, et omnia denique membra ante fuere, ut opinor, eorum quam foret usus.
haud igitur potuere utendi crescere causa.
The ultimate dissolution and the gradual decay of the terrestrial globe is set forth in the following luminous pa.s.sage (ii. 1148):--
Sic igitur magni quoque circ.u.m moenia mundi expugnata dabunt labem putrisque ruinas.
iamque adeo fracta est aetas effetaque tellus vix animalia parva creat quae cuncta creavit saecla deditque ferarum ingentia corpora partu.[1]
The same mind which recognised these probabilities knew also that our globe is not single, but that it forms one among an infinity of sister orbs (ii. 1084):--
quapropter caelum simili ratione fatendumst terramque et solem lunam mare, cetera quae sunt non esse unica, sed numero magis innumerali.[2]
When Lucretius takes upon himself to describe the process of becoming which made the world what it now is, he seems to incline to a theory not at all dissimilar to that of una.s.sisted evolution (v.
419):--
nam certe neque consilio primordia rerum ordine se suo quaeque sagaci mente locarunt nec quos quaeque darent motus pepigere profecto, sed quia multa modis multis primordia rerum ex infinito iam tempore percita plagis ponderibusque suis consuerunt concita ferri omnimodisque coire atque omnia pertemptare, quaec.u.mque inter se possent congressa creare, propterea fit uti magnum volgata per aevom omne genus coetus et motus experiundo tandem conveniant ea quae convecta repente magnarum rerum fiunt exordia saepe, terrai maris et caeli generisque animantum.
[1] Compare book v. 306-317 on the evidences of decay continually at work in the fabric of the world.
[2] The same truth is insisted on with even greater force of language in vi. 649-652.
Entering into the details of the process, he describes the many ill-formed, amorphous beginnings of organised life upon the globe, which came to nothing, 'since nature set a ban upon their increase'
(v. 837-848); and then proceeds to explain how, in the struggle for existence, the stronger prevailed over the weaker (v. 855-863). What is really interesting in this exposition is that Lucretius ascribes to nature the volition ('convertebat ibi natura foramina terrae;'
'quoniam natura absterruit auctum') which has recently been attributed by materialistic speculators to the same maternal power.
To press these points, and to neglect the gap which separates Lucretius from thinkers fortified by the discoveries of modern chemistry, astronomy, physiology, and so forth, would be childish.
All we can do is to point to the fact that the circ.u.mambient atmosphere of human ignorance, with reference to the main matters of speculation, remains undissipated. The ma.s.s of experience acquired since the age of Lucretius is enormous, and is infinitely valuable; while our power of tabulating, methodising, and extending the sphere of experimental knowledge seems to be unlimited. Only ontological deductions, whether negative or affirmative, remain pretty much where they were then.
The fame of Lucretius, however, rests not on this foundation of hypothesis. In his poetry lies the secret of a charm which he will continue to exercise as long as humanity chooses to read Latin verse. No poet has created a world of larger and n.o.bler images, designed with the _sprezzatura_ of indifference to mere gracefulness, but all the more fascinating because of the artist's negligence. There is something monumental in the effect produced by his large-sounding single epithets and simple names. We are at home with the daemonic life of nature when he chooses to bring Pan and his following before our eyes (iv. 580). Or, again, the Seasons pa.s.s like figures on some frieze of Mantegna, to which, by divine accident, has been added the glow of t.i.tian's colouring[1] (v.
737):--
it ver et Venus, et veris praenuntius ante pennatus graditur zephyrus, vestigia propter Flora quibus mater praespargens ante viai cuncta coloribus egregiis et odoribus opplet.
inde loci sequitur calor aridus et comes una pulverulenta Ceres et etesia flabra aquilonum, inde antumnus adit, graditur simul Eubius Euan, inde aliae tempestates ventique sec.u.n.tur, alt.i.tonans Volturnus et auster fulmine pollens.
tandem bruma nives adfert pigrumque rigorem, prodit hiemps, sequitur crepitans hanc dentibus algor.
With what a n.o.ble style, too, are the holidays of the primeval pastoral folk described (v. 1379-1404). It is no mere celebration of the _bell' eta dell' oro_: but we see the woodland glades, and hear the songs of shepherds, and feel the hush of summer among rustling forest trees, while at the same time all is far away, in a better, simpler, larger age. The sympathy of Lucretius for every form of country life was very noticeable. It belonged to that which was most deeply and sincerely poetic in the Latin genius, whence Virgil drew his sweetest strain of melancholy, and Horace his most unaffected pictures, and Catullus the tenderness of his best lines on Sirmio.
No Roman surpa.s.sed the pathos with which Lucretius described the separation of a cow from her calf (ii. 352-365). The same note indeed was touched by Virgil in his lines upon the forlorn nightingale, and in the peroration to the third 'Georgic.' But the style of Virgil is more studied, the feeling more artistically elaborated. It would be difficult to parallel such Lucretian pa.s.sages in Greek poetry. The Greeks lacked an undefinable something of rusticity which dignified the Latin race. This quality was not altogether different from what we call homeliness. Looking at the busts of Romans, and noticing their resemblance to English country gentlemen, I have sometimes wondered whether the Latin genius, just in those points where it differed from the Greek, was not approximated to the English.
[1] The elaborate ill.u.s.tration of the first four lines of this pa.s.sage, painted by Botticelli (in the Florence Academy of Fine Arts), proves Botticelli's incapacity or unwillingness to deal with the subject in the spirit of the original. It is graceful and 'subtle' enough, but not Lucretian.