BASILOCLES. You have spun out the time, Philinus,
				till it is late in the evening, in giving the strangers a full
				sight of all the consecrated rarities; so that I am quite
				tired with waiting longer for your society. 
 PHILINUS. Therefore we walked slowly along, talking
					and discoursing, O Basilocles, sowing and reaping by the
					way such sharp and hot disputes as offered themselves,
					which sprung up anew and grew about us as we walked,
					like the armed men from the Dragon's teeth of Cadmus. 
 BASILOCLES. Shall we then call some of those that were
					present; or wilt thou be so kind as to tell us what were
					the discourses and who were the disputants? 
 PHILINUS. That, Basilocles, it must be my business to do.
					For thou wilt hardly meet with any one else in the city
					able to serve thee; for we saw most of the rest ascending
					with the stranger up to the Corycian cave and to Lycorea. 
 BASILOCLES. This same stranger is not only covetous of
					seeing what may be seen, but wonderfully civil and genteel. 
 PHILINUS. He is besides a great lover of science, and
					studious to learn. But these are not the only exercises
					which are to be admired in him. He is a person modest,
					yet facetious, smart and prudent in dispute, void of all passion and contumacies in his answers; in short, you will say
					of him at first sight that he is the son of a virtuous father.
					
					 
					
					For dost thou not know Diogenianus, a most excellent
					person ? 
 BASILOCLES. I have not seen him, Philinus, but many
					report several things of the young gentleman, much like
					what you say. But, pray now, what was the beginning of
					these discourses? Upon what occasion did they arise?

PHILINUS. The interpreters of the sacred mysteries
				acted without any regard to us, who desired them to contract their relation into as few words as might be, and to
				pass by the most part of the inscriptions. But the stranger
				was but indifferently taken with the form and workmanship
				of the statues, being one, as it appeared, who had already
				been a spectator of many rare pieces of curiosity. He
				admired the beautiful color of the brass, not foul and rusty,
				but shining with a tincture of blue. What, said he, was
				it any certain mixture and composition of the ancient
				artists in brass, like the famous art of giving a keen edge
				to swords, without which brass could not be used in war?
				For Corinthian brass received its lustre not from art, but by
				chance, when a fire had devoured some house wherein
				there was both gold and silver, but of brass the greater
				plenty; which, being intermixed and melted into one mass,
				derives its name from the brass, of which there was the
				greater quantity. Then Theo interposing said: But we
				have heard another more remarkable reason than this;
				how an artist in brass at Corinth, happening upon a chest
				full of gold, and fearing to have it divulged, cut the gold
				into small pieces, and mixed it by degrees with the brass,
				till he found the more noble metal gave a more than usual
				lustre to the baser, and so transformed it that he sold at a
				great rate the unknown mixture, that was highly admired
				for its beauty and color. But I believe both the one and
				the other to be fabulous; for by all likelihood this Corinthian brass was a certain mixture and temperature of
				metals, prepared by art; just as at this day artisans temper
				
				 
				
				gold and silver together, and make a peculiar and wonderful pale yellow metal; howbeit, in my eye it is of a
				sickly color and a corrupt hue, without any beauty in the
				world.

What then, said Diogenianus, do you believe to be
				the cause of this extraordinary color in the brass? And
				Theo replied: Seeing that of those first and most natural
				elements, which are and ever will be,—that is to say, fire,
				air, earth, and water,—there is none that approaches so
				near to brass or that so closely environs it as air alone, we
				have most reason to believe that the air occasions it, and
				that from thence proceeds the difference which brass displays
				from other metals Or did you know this even before
					Theognis was born, as the comic poet intimates; but would
				you know by what natural quality or by what virtual power
				this same air thus colors the brass, being touched and surrounded by it? Yes, said Diogenianus; and so would I,
				dear son, replied the worthy Theo. First then let us endeavor, altogether with submission to your good pleasure,
				said the first propounder, to find out the reason wherefore
				of all moistures oil covers brass with rust. For it cannot
				be imagined that oil of itself causes that defilement, if
				when first laid on it is clean and pure. By no means, said
				the young gentleman, in regard the effect seems to proceed
				from another cause; for the rust appears through the oil,
				which is thin, pure, and transparent, whereas it is clouded
				by other more thick and muddy liquors, and so is not able
				to show itself. It is well said, son, replied the other, and
				truly; but hear, however, and then consider the reason
				which Aristotle produces. I am ready, returned the young
				gentleman. He says then, answered the other, that the
				rust insensibly penetrates and dilates itself through other
				liquids, as being of parts unequal, and of a thin substance;
				but that it grows to a consistency, and is, as it were, incorporated by the more dense substance of the oil. Now if
				
				 
				
				we could but suppose how this might be done, we should
				not want a charm to lull this doubt asleep.

When we had made our acknowledgment that he had
				spoken truth, and besought him to proceed, he told us
				that the air of the city of Delphi is heavy, compacted,
				thick, and forcible, by reason of the reflection and resistency of the adjacent mountains, and besides that, is sharp
				and cutting (as appears by the eager stomachs and swift
				digestion of the inhabitants); and that this air, entering
				and penetrating the brass by its keenness, fetches forth
				from the body of the brass much rust and earthy matter,
				which afterwards it stops and coagulates by its own density,
				ere it can get forth; by which means the rust abounding
				in quantity gives that peculiar grain and lustre to the superficies. When we approved this argument, the stranger
				declared his opinion, that it needed no more than one of
				those suppositions to clear the doubt; for, said he, that
				tenuity or subtilty seems to be in some measure contrary
				to that thickness supposed to be in the air, and therefore
				there is no reason to suppose it; for the brass, as it grows
				old, of itself exhales and sends forth that rust, which afterwards, being stopped and fixed by the thickness of the air,
				becomes apparent by reason of its quantity. Then Theo
				replied: and what hinders but that the same thing may
				be thick and thin both together, like the woofs of silk or
				fine linen?—of which Homer says:
				
				 
 
 Thin was the stuff,
				 
 Yet liquid oil ran o'er the tissued woof, 
 
 
 
 	 
 
 	 intimating the extreme fineness of the texture, yet so close
					woven that it could not suffer oil to pass through it. In
					like manner may we make use of the subtilty of the air,
					not only to scour the brass and fetch the rust out of it, but
					also to render the color more pleasing and more azure-like,
					by intermixing light and splendor amidst the blue.

This said, after short silence, the guides began again
				to cite certain words of an ancient oracle in verse, which,
				as it seemed to me, pointed at the sovereignty of Aegon
				king of Argos. I have often wondered, said Diogenianus,
				at the meanness and ill-contrived hobbling of the verses
				which conveyed the ancient oracles into the world. And
				yet Apollo is called the chief of the Muses; whom it
				therefore behooved to take no less care of elegancy and
				beauty in style and language, than of the voice and manner of singing. Besides, he must needs be thought to
				surpass in a high degree either Homer or Hesiod in poetic
				skill. Nevertheless we find several of the oracles lame
				and erroneous, as well in reference to the measure as to
				the words. Upon which the poet Serapio, newly come
				from Athens, being then in company, said: If we believe
				that those verses were composed by Apollo, can we acknowledge what you allege, that they come short of the
				beauty and elegancy which adorn the writings of Homer
				and Hesiod; and shall we not make use of them as examples of neatness and curiosity, correcting our judgment
				anticipated and forestalled by evil custom? To whom
				Boethus the geometer (the person who you know has
				lately gone over to the camp of Epicurus) said: Have you
				not heard the story of Pauson the painter? Not I, replied
				Serapio. It is worth your attention, answered Boethus.
				He, having contracted to paint a horse wallowing upon
				his back, drew the horse galloping at full speed; at which
				when the person that had agreed with him seemed to be
				not a little displeased, Pauson fell a laughing, and turned
				the picture upside downward; by which means the posture was quite altered, and the horse that seemed to run
				before lay tumbling now upon the ground. This (as Bion
				says) frequently happens to propositions, when they are
				once inverted; for some will deny the oracles to be elegant,
				because they come from Apollo; others will deny Apollo
				
				 
				
				to be the author, because of their rude and shapeless composure. For the one is dubious and uncertain; but this
				is manifest, that the verses wherein the oracles are generally delivered are no way laboriously studied. Nor can I
				appeal to a better judge than yourself, whose compositions
				and poems are not only written so gravely and philosophically, but, for invention and elegance, more like to those
				of Homer and Hesiod than the homely Pythian raptures.

To whom Serapio: We labor, Boethus, said he, under the distempered senses both of sight and hearing,
				being accustomed through niceness and delicacy to esteem
				and call that elegant which most delights; and perhaps we
				may find fault with the Pythian priestess because she does
				not warble so charmingly as the fair lyric songstress
				Glauca, or else because she does not perfume herself with
				precious odors or appear in rich and gaudy habit. And
				some may mislike her because she burns for incense rather
				barley-meal and laurel than frankincense, ladanon, and
				cinnamon. Do you not see, some one will say, what a
				grace there is in Sappho's measures, and how they delight
				and tickle the ears and fancies of the hearers? Whereas
				the Sibyl with her frantic grimaces, as Heraclitus says,
				uttering sentences altogether thoughtful and serious, neither
				bespiced nor perfumed, continues her voice a thousand
				years by the favor of the Deity that speaks within her.
				Pindar therefore tells us that Cadmus heard from heaven a
				sort of music that was neither lofty nor soft, nor shattered
				into trills and divisions; for severe holiness will not admit
				the allurements of pleasure, that was for the most part
				thrown into the world and flowed (as it appears) into the
				ears of men at the same time with the Goddess of mischief.

Serapio thus concluding, Theo with a smile proceeded.
				Serapio, said he, has not forgot his wonted custom of
				taking an opportunity to discourse of pleasure. But we,
				
				 
				
				Boethus, believe not these prophetic verses to be the compositions of Apollo, if they are worse than Homer's; but
				we believe that he supplied the principle of motion, and
				that every one of the prophetesses was disposed to receive
				his inspiration. For if the oracles were to be set down in
				writing, not verbally to be pronounced, surely we should
				not find fault with the hand, taking it to be Apollo's, because the letters were not so fairly written as in the epistles
				of kings. For neither the voice, nor the sound, nor the
				word, nor the metre proceeds from the God, but from the
				woman. God only presents the visions, and kindles in
				the soul a light to discover future events; which is called
				divine inspiration. But in short, I find it is a hard matter
				to escape the hands of Epicurus's priests (of which number I perceive you are), since you reprove the ancient
				priestesses for making bad verses, and the modern prophetesses for delivering the oracles in prose and vulgar language, which they do that they may escape being by you
				called to an account for their lame and mistaken verses.
				But then, Diogenianus, I beseech you, said he, in the name
				of all the Gods, be serious with us; unriddle this question,
				and explain this mystery unto us, which is now grown
				almost epidemical. For indeed there is hardly any person
				that does not with an extreme curiosity search after the
				reason wherefore the Pythian oracle has ceased to make
				use of numbers and verse. Hold, son, said Theo, we shall
				disoblige our historical directors by taking their province
				out of their hands. First suffer them to make an end,
				and then at leisure we will go on with what you please.

Thus walking along, we were by this time got as
				far as the statue of Hiero the tyrant, while the stranger,
				although a most learned historian, yet out of his complaisant and affable disposition, attentively leaned to the present relations. But then, among other things, hearing how
				that one of the brazen pillars that supported the said statue
				
				 
				
				of Hiero fell of itself the same day that the tyrant died
				at Syracuse, he began to admire the accident. Thereupon
				at the same time I called to mind several other examples
				of the like nature: as that of Hiero the Spartan, the eyes
				of whose statue fell out of its head just before he was
				slain at the battle of Leuctra;—how the two stars vanished which Lysander offered and consecrated to the Gods
				after the naval engagement near Aegos Potami, and how
				there sprung of a sudden from his statue of stone such a
				multitude of thorny bushes and weeds as covered all his
				face;—how, when those calamities and misfortunes befell
				the Athenians in Sicily, the golden dates dropped from the
				palm-tree, and the ravens with their beaks pecked holes
				in the shield of Pallas;—how the crown of the Cnidians
				which Philomelus, the tyrant of the Phocians, gave Pharsalia, a female dancer, was the occasion of her death; for,
				passing out of Greece into Italy, one day as she was playing and dancing in the temple of Apollo in the city of
				Metapontum, having that crown upon her head, the young
				men of the place falling upon her, and fighting one among
				another for lucre of the gold, tore the damsel in pieces.
				Now, though Aristotle was wont to say that only Homer
				composed names and terms that had motion, by reason of
				the vigor and vivacity of his expressions, for my part I am
				apt to believe that the offerings made in this city of statues
				and consecrated presents sympathize with Divine Providence, and move themselves jointly therewith to foretell
				and signify future events; and that no part of all those
				sacred donatives is void of sense, but that every part is
				full of the Deity. 
 	 It is very probable, answered Boethus; for, to tell you
					truth, we do not think it sufficient to enclose the Divinity every month in a mortal body, unless we incorporate
					him with every stone and lump of brass; as if Fortune and
					Chance were not sufficient artists to bring about such accidents
					
					 
					
					 and events. Say ye so then? said I. Seems it to you
					that these things happen accidentally and by hap-hazard;
					and is it likely that your atoms never separate, never move
					or incline this or that way either before or after, but just in
					that nick of time when some one of those who have made
					these offerings is to fare either better or worse? Shall
					Epicurus avail thee by his writings and his sayings, which
					he wrote and uttered above three hundred years ago, and
					shall the Deity, unless he crowd himself into all substances
					and blend himself with all things, not be allowed to be a
					competent author of the principles of motion and affection?

This was the reply I made Boethus, and the same
				answer I gave him touching the Sibyl's verses; for when
				we drew near that part of the rock which joins to the
				senate-house, which by common fame was the seat of
				the first Sibyl that came to Delphi from Helicon, where
				she was bred by the Muses (though others affirm that she
				fixed herself at Maleo, and that she was the daughter of
				Lamia, the daughter of Neptune), Serapio made mention
				of certain verses of hers, wherein she had extolled herself
				as one that should never cease to prophesy even after her
				death; for that after her decease she should make her
				abode in the orb of the moon, being metamorphosed into
				the face of that planet; that her voice and prognostications
				should be always heard in the air, intermixed with the
				winds and by them driven about from place to place; and
				that from her body should spring various plants, herbs,
				and fruits to feed the sacred victims, which should have
				sundry forms and qualities in their entrails, whereby men
				would be able to foretell all manner of events to come.
				At this Boethus laughed outright; but the stranger replied that, though the Sibyl's vain-glory seemed altogether
				fabulous, yet the subversions of several Grecian cities,
				transmigrations of the inhabitants, several invasions of
				barbarian armies, the destructions of kingdoms and principalities,
				
				 
				
				 testified the truth of ancient prophecies and
				predictions. And were not those accidents that fell out
				not many years ago in our memories at Cumae and Puteoli, said he, long before that time the predictions and
				promises of the Sibyl, which Time, as a debtor, afterwards
				discharged and paid? Such were the breaking forth of
				kindled fire from the sulphuric wombs of mountains, boiling of the sea, cities so swallowed up as not to leave behind the least footsteps of the ruins where they stood;
				things hard to be believed, much harder to be foretold,
				unless by Divine foresight.

Then Boethus said: I would fain know what accidents fall out which time does not owe at length to Nature.
				What so prodigious or unlooked for, either by land or sea,
				either in respect of cities or men, which, if it be foretold,
				may not naturally come to pass at one season or other, in
				process of time? So that such a prophecy, to speak properly, cannot be called a prediction, but a bare speech or
				report, or rather a scattering or sowing of words in boundless infinity that have no probability or foundation; which,
				as they rove and wander in the air, Fortune accidentally
				meets, and musters together by chance, to correspond and
				agree with some event. For, in my opinion, there is a
				great difference between the coming to pass of what has
				been said and the saying of what shall happen. For the
				discourse of things that are not, being already in itself
				erroneous and faulty, cannot, in justice, claim the honor
				of after-credit from a fortuitous accident. Nor is it a true
				sign that the prophet foretells of his certain knowledge,
				because what he spoke happened to come to pass; in regard there are an infinite number of accidents, that fall in
				the course of nature, suitable to all events. He therefore
				that conjectures best, and whom the common proverb avers
				to be the exactest diviner, is he who finds out what shall
				happen hereafter, by tracing the footsteps of future probabilities.
				
				 
				
				 Whereas these Sibyls and enthusiastic wizards
				have only thrown into the capacious abyss of time, as into
				a vast and boundless ocean, whole heaps of words and
				sentences, comprehending all sorts of accidents and events,
				which, though some perchance may come to pass, were
				yet false when uttered, though afterwards by chance they
				may happen to be true.

Boethus having thus discoursed, Serapio replied,
				that Boethus had rightly and judiciously argued in reference to cursory predictions uttered not determinately and
				without good ground. One fairly guessed that such a
				captain should get the victory, and he won the field; another cried that such things portended the subversion of
				such a city, and it was laid in ashes. But when the person does not only foretell the event, but how and when, by
				what means, and by whom it shall come to pass, this is no
				hazardous conjecture, but an absolute demonstration, and
				pre-inspired discovery of what shall come to pass hereafter, and that too by the determined decree of fate, long
				before it comes to pass. For example, to instance the
				halting of Agesilaus,
				
				 
 
 Sparta, beware, though thou art fierce and proud,
				 
 Lest a lame king thy ancient glories cloud;
				 
 For then 'twill be thy fate to undergo
				 
 Tedious turmoils of war, and sudden woe; 
 
 
 
 	 together with what was prophesied concerning the island
					which the sea threw up right against Thera and Therasia;
					as also the prediction of the war between King Philip and
					the Romans,
					
					 
 
 When Trojan race shall tame Phoenicians bold,
					 
 Prodigious wonders shall the world behold;
					 
 From burning seas shall flames immense ascend;
					 
 Lightning and whirlwinds hideous rocks shall rend
					 
 From their foundations, and an island rear,
					 
 Dreadful to sight and terrible to hear.
					 
 In vain shall greater strength and valor then
					 
 Withstand the contemned force of weaker men. 
 
 
 
 
 	 Soon after this island shot up out of the ocean, surrounded with flames and boiling surges; and then it was
					that Hannibal was overthrown, and the Carthaginians
					were subdued by the distressed and almost ruined Romans, and that the Aetolians, assisted by the Romans, vanquished Philip King of Macedon. So that it is never to
					be imagined that these things were the effects of negligent
					and careless chance; besides, the series and train of events
					ensuing the prodigy clearly demonstrate the foreknowledge of a prophetic spirit. The same may be said of the
					prophecy made five hundred years beforehand to the Romans of the time when they should be engaged in war
					with all the world at once; which happened when their
					own slaves made war upon their masters. In all this
					there was nothing of conjecture, nothing of blind uncertainty, nor is there any occasion to grope into the vast
					obscurity of chance for the reason of these events; but
					we have many pledges of experience, that plainly demonstrate the beaten path by which destiny proceeds. For
					certainly there is no man who will believe that ever those
					events answered accidentally the several circumstances of
					the prediction; otherwise we may as well say that Epicurus himself never wrote his book of dogmatic precepts,
					but that the work was perfected by the accidental meeting
					and interchange of the letters, one among another.

Thus discoursing, we kept on our walk; but when
				we came into the Corinthian Hall and observed the brazen
				palm-tree, the only remainder left of all the consecrated
				donatives, Diogenianus wondered to observe several figures of frogs and water-snakes, all in cast work about
				the root of the tree. Nor were we less at a stand, well
				knowing the palm to be no tree that grows by the water
				or delights in moist or fenny places; neither do frogs at
				all concern or belong to the Corinthians, either by way of
				emblem or religious ceremony, or as the city arms; as the
				
				 
				
				Selinuntines formerly offered to their Gods parsley or
				smallage ( selinon ) of goldsmith's work and of the choicest
				yellow metal: and the inhabitants of Tenedos always kept
				in their temple a consecrated axe, a fancy taken from their
				esteem of the crab-fish that breed in that island near the
				promontory of Asterium, they being the only crabs that
				carry the figure of an axe upon the upper part of their
				shells. For as for Apollo, we were of opinion that crows,
				swans, wolves, sparrow-hawks, or any other sort of creature, would be more acceptable to him than despicable
				animals. To this Serapio replied, that sure the workman
				thereby designed to show that the Sun was nourished by
				moisture and exhalations; whether it was that he thought
				at that time of that verse in Homer,
				
				 
 
 The rising Sun then causing day to break,
				 
 Quits the cool pleasure of the oozy lake, 
 
 
 
 
 	 or whether he had seen how the Egyptians, to represent
					sunrise, paint a little boy sitting upon a lotus. Thereupon, not able to refrain laughing, What, said I, are you
					going about to obtrude your stoicisms again upon us; or
					do you think to slide insensibly into our discourse your
					exhalations and fiery prodigies? What is this but, like
					the Thessalian women, to call down the Sun and Moon
					by enchantments from the skies, while you derive their
					original from the earth and water? 
 	 Therefore Plato will have a man to be a heavenly tree,
					growing with his root, which is his head, upward. But
					you deride Empedocles for affirming that the Sun, being
					illumined by the reflection of the celestial light, with an
					intrepid countenance casts a radiant lustre back upon the
					convex of heaven; while you yourselves make the Sun to
					be a mere terrestrial animal or water plant, confining him
					to ponds, lakes, and such like regions of frogs. But let
					us refer these things to the tragical monstrosity of Stoical
					
					 
					
					opinions, and now make some particular reflections touching the extravagant pieces of certain artificers, who, as
					they are ingenious and elegant in some things, so are no
					less weakly curious and ambitious in others of their inventions; like him who, designing to signify the dawn of
					day-light or the hours of sunrise, painted a cock upon the
					hand of Apollo. And thus may these frogs be thought to
					have been designed by the artist to denote the spring,
					when the Sun begins to exercise his power in the air and
					to dissolve the winter congealments; at least, if we may
					believe, as you yourselves affirm, that Apollo and the Sun
					are both one God, and not two distinct Deities. Why,
					said Serapio, do you think the Sun and Apollo differ the
					one from the other? Yes, said I, as the Moon differs
					from the Sun. Nay, the difference is somewhat greater.
					For the Moon neither very often nor from all the world
					conceals the Sun; but the Sun is the cause that all men
					are ignorant of Apollo, by sense withdrawing the rational
					intellect from that which is to that which appears.

After this, Serapio put the question to the Historical Directors, why that same hall did not bear the name
				of Cypselus, who was both the founder and the consecrator, but was called the Corinthians' Hall? When all the
				rest were silent, because perhaps they knew not what to
				say; How can we imagine, said I with a smile, that these
				people should either know or remember the reason, having
				been so amused and thunderstruck by your high-flown
				discourses of prodigies altogether supernatural? However we have heard it reported, when the monarchical
				government of Corinth was dissolved by the ruin of Cypselus, the Corinthians claimed the honor to own both the
				golden statue at Pisa, and the treasure that lay in that
				place; which was also by the Delphians decreed to be
				their just right. This glory being envied them by the
				Eleans, they were by a decree of the Corinthians utterly
				
				 
				
				excluded from the solemnities of the Isthmian games.
				This is the true reason, that never since any person of the
				country of Elis was admitted to any trial of skill at those
				festivals. For as for that murder of the Molionidae, slain
				by Hercules near Cleonae, that was not the reason where
				fore Eleans were excluded, as some have vainly alleged;
				for on the contrary it had been more proper for the Eleans
				themselves to have excluded the Corinthians from the
				Olympic games, had they any animosity against them on
				this account. And this is all that I have to say in reference to this matter.

But when we came into the treasury of the Acanthians and Brasidas, the director showed us the place
				where formerly stood the obelisks dedicated to the memory
				of the courtesan Rhodopis. Then Diogenianus in a kind
				of passion said: It was no less ignominy for this city to
				allow Rhodopis a place wherein to deposit the tenth of her
				gains got by the prostitution of her body, than to put
				Aesop her fellow-servant to death. But why should you
				be offended at this, said Serapio, when you have but to
				cast up your eye, and you may yonder behold the golden
				statue of Mnesarete standing between kings and emperors,
				which Crates averred to be a trophy of the Grecian intemperance? The young man observed the statue, and
				said: But it was Phryne of whom Crates uttered that expression. That is very true, replied Serapio; for her
				propel name was Mnesarete; but Phryne was a nickname,
				given her by reason of the yellowness of her complexion,
				like the color of a toad that lies among moist and overgrown bushes, called in Greek φρύτη . For many times it
				happens that nicknames eclipse and drown the proper
				names both of men and women. Thus the mother of
				Alexander, whose true name was Polyxena, was afterwards
				called Myrtale, then Olympias, and Stratonice; Eumetis the
				Corinthian was afterwards called from her father's name
				
				 
				
				Cleobule; and Herophyle of the city of Erythraea, skilful
				in divination, was called Sibylla. And the grammarians
				will tell you that Leda herself was first called Mnesionoe,
				and Orestes Achaeus. But how, said he, looking upon
				Theo, can you answer this complaint concerning Phryne,
				for being placed in so much state above her quality?

In the same manner, and as easily, replied Serapio,
				as I may charge and accuse yourself for reproaching the
				slightest faults among the Greeks. For as Socrates reprehended Callias for being always at enmity with perfumes
				and precious odors, while yet he could endure to see boys
				and girls dance and tumble together, and to be a spectator
				of the lascivious gestures of wanton mummers and merryandrews; so, in my opinion, it is with you that envy the
				standing of a woman's statue in the temple, because she
				made ill use of her beauty. Yet, though you see Apollo
				surrounded with the first-fruits and tenths of murders,
				wars, and plunder, and all the temple full of spoils and
				pillage taken from the Greeks, these things never move
				your indignation; you never commiserate your countrymen,
				when you read engraved upon these gaudy donatives such
				doleful inscriptions as these,—Brasidas and the Acanthians dedicate these spoils taken from Athenians,—the
				Athenians these from the Corinthians,—the Phocians
				these from the Thessalians,—the Orneatae these from the
				Sicyonians,—the Amphictyons these from the Phocians.
				Now if it is true that Praxiteles offended Crates by erecting
				a statue in honor of his mistress, in my opinion Crates
				rather ought to have commended him for placing among
				the golden monuments of kings and princes the statue of
				a courtesan, thereby showing a contempt and scorn of
				riches, to which there is nothing of grandeur or veneration
				due; for it becomes princes and kings to consecrate to
				the God the lasting monuments of justice, temperance,
				magnanimity, not of golden and superfluous opulency,
				
				 
				
				which are as frequently erected to the most flagitious of
				men.

But you forgot, said one of the directors, that Croesus honored the woman that baked his bread with a golden
				statue, which he caused to be set up in this place, not to
				make a show of royal superfluity, but upon a just and
				honest occasion of gratitude, which happened thus. It is
				reported that Alyattes, the father of Croesus, married a
				second wife, by whom he had other children. This same
				step-dame, therefore, designing to remove Croesus out of
				the way, gave the woman-baker a dose of poison, with a
				strict charge to put it in the bread which she made for the
				young prince. Of this the woman privately informed
				Croesus, and gave the poisoned bread to the queen's children. By which means Croesus quietly succeeded his
				father; when he did no less than acknowledge the fidelity
				of the woman by making even the God himself a testimony
				of his gratitude, wherein he did like a worthy and virtuous
				prince. And therefore it is but fitting that we should extol, admire, and honor the magnificent presents and offerings consecrated by several cities upon such occasions, like
				that of the Opuntines. For when the tyrants of Phocis
				had broken to pieces, melted down, and coined into money
				the most precious of their sacred donatives, which they
				spent as profusely in the neighboring parts, the Opuntines
				made it their business to buy up all the plundered metal,
				wherever they could meet with it; and putting it up into
				a vessel made on purpose, they sent it as an offering to
				Apollo. And, for my part, I cannot but highly applaud
				the inhabitants of Myrina and Apollonia, who sent hither
				the first-fruits of their harvests in sheaves of gold; but
				much more the Eretrians and Magnesians, who dedicated
				to our God the first-fruits of their men, not only acknowledging that from him all the fruits of the earth proceeded,
				but that he was also the giver of children, as being the
				
				 
				
				author of generation and a lover of mankind. But I blame
				the Megarians, for that they alone erected here a statue of
				our God holding. a spear in his hand, in memory of the
				battle which they won from the Athenians, whom they vanquished after the defeat of the Medes, and expelled their
				city, of which they were masters before. However, afterwards they presented a golden plectrum to Apollo, remembering perhaps those verses of Scythinus, who thus wrote
				of the harp:
				
				 
 
 This was the harp which Jove's most beauteous son
				 
 Framed by celestial skill to play upon;
				 
 And for his plectrum the Sun's beams he used,
				 
 To strike those cords that mortal ears amused.

Now as Serapio was about to have added something
				of the same nature, the stranger, taking the words out of
				his mouth, said: I am wonderfully pleased to hear discourses upon such subjects as these; but I am constrained
				to claim your first promise, to tell me the reason wherefore
				now the Pythian prophetess no longer delivers her oracles
				in poetic numbers and measures. And therefore, if you
				please, we will surcease the remaining sight of these curiosities, choosing rather to sit a while and discourse the
				matter among ourselves. For it seems to be an assertion
				strangely repugnant to the belief and credit of the oracle,
				in regard that of necessity one of these two things must
				be true, either that the Pythian prophetess does not approach the place where the deity makes his abode, or that
				the sacred vapor that inspired her is utterly extinct, and
				its efficacy lost. Walking therefore to the south side of
				the temple, we took our seats within the portico, over
				against the temple of Tellus, having from thence a prospect of the Castalian fountain; insomuch that Boethus
				presently told us that the very place itself favored the
				stranger's question. For formerly there stood a temple
				dedicated to the Muses, close by the source of the rivulet,
				
				 
				
				whence they drew their water for the sacrifices, according
				to that of Simonides:
				
				 
 
 There flows the spring, whose limpid stream supplies
				 
 The fair-haired Muses water for their hands,
				 
 Before they touch the hallowed sacrifice. 
 
 
 
 	 And the said Simonides a little lower calls Clio somewhat
					more curiously
					
					 
 
 The chaste inspectress of those sacred wells,
					 
 Whose fragrant water all her cisterns fills;
					 
 Water, through dark ambrosial nooks conveyed,
					 
 By which Castalian rivulets are fed. 
 
 
 
 
 	 And therefore Eudoxus erroneously gave credit to those
					that gave the epithet of Stygian to this water, near which
					the wiser sort placed the temple of the Muses, as guardians
					of the springs and assistants to prophecy; as also the
					temple of Tellus, to which the oracle appertained, and
					where the answers were delivered in verses and songs.
					And here it was, as some report, that first a certain heroic
					verse was heard to this effect:
					
					 
 
 Ye birds, bring hither all your plumes;
					 
 Ye bees, bring all your wax; 
 
 
 
 	 which related to the time that the oracle, forsaken by the
					Deity, lost its veneration.

These things, then said Serapio, seem to belong of
				right to the Muses, as being their particular province; for
				it becomes us not to fight against the gods, nor with divination to abolish providence and divinity, but to search for
				convincement to refel repugnant arguments; and, in the
				mean time, not to abandon that religious belief and persuasion which has been so long propagated among us,
				from father to son, for so many generations. 
 	 You say very right, said I, Serapio; for we do not as
					yet despair of philosophy or give it over for lost, because,
					although formerly the ancient philosophers published their
					precepts and sentences in verse,—as did Orpheus, Hesiod,
					Parmenides, Xenophanes, Empedocles, and Thales,—yet
					
					 
					
					that custom has been lately laid aside by all others except
					yourself. For you indeed once more have arrayed philosophy in poetic numbers, on purpose to render it more
					sprightly, more charming, and delightful to youth. Nor is
					astrology as yet become more ignoble or less valued, because Aristarchus, Timochares, Aristillus, and Hipparchus
					have written in prose, though formerly Eudoxus, Hesiod,
					and Thales wrote of that science in verse; at least if that
					astrology was the legitimate offspring of Thales which
					goes under his name. Pindar also acknowledges his dissatisfaction touching the manner of melody neglected in
					this time, and wonders why it should be so despised.
					Neither is it a thing that looks like hurtful or absurd, to
					enquire into the causes of these alterations. But to destroy the arts and faculties themselves because they have
					undergone some certain mutations, is neither just nor
					rational.

Upon which Theo interposing said: It cannot be
				denied but that there have been great changes and innovations in reference to poetry and the sciences; yet is it as
				certain, that from all antiquity oracles have been delivered
				in prose. For we find in Thucydides, that the Lacedaemonians, desirous to know the issue of the war then entered
				into against the Athenians, were answered in prose, that
				they should become potent and victorious, and that the
				Deity would assist them, whether invoked or not invoked;
				and again, that unless they recalled Pausanias, they would
				plough with a silver ploughshare. To the Athenians
				consulting the oracle concerning their expedition into
				Sicily, he gave order to send for the priestess of Minerva
				from the city of Erythrae; which priestess went by the
				name of Hesychia, or repose. And when Dinomenes
				the Sicilian enquired what should become of his children,
				the oracle returned for answer, that they should all three
				
				 
				
				be lords and princes. And when Dinomenes. replied,
				But then, most powerful Apollo, let it be to their confusion; the God made answer, That also I both grant and
				promise. The consequence of which was, that Gelo was
				troubled with the dropsy during his reign, Hiero was
				afflicted with the stone, and the third, Thrasybulus, surrounded with war and sedition, was in a short time expelled his dominions. Procles also, the tyrant of Epidaurus,
				after he had cruelly and tyrannically murdered several
				others, put Timarchus likewise to death, who fled to him
				for protection from Athens with a great sum of money,—after he had pledged him his faith and received him at
				his first arrival with large demonstrations of kindness
				and affection,—and then threw his carcass into the sea,
				enclosed in a pannier. All this he did by the persuasion
				of one Cleander of Aegina, no other of his courtiers being
				privy to it. After which, meeting with no small trouble
				and misfortune in all his affairs, he sent to the oracle his
				brother Cleotimus, with orders to enquire whether he
				should provide for his safety by flight, or retire to some
				other place. Apollo made answer, that he advised Procles
				to fly where he had directed his Aeginetan guest to dispose
				of the pannier, or where the hart had cast his horns.
				Upon which the tyrant, understanding that the oracle
				commanded him either to throw himself into the sea or to
				bury himself in the earth (in regard that a stag, when he
				sheds his antlers, scrapes a hole in the ground and hides
				his ignominy), demurred a while; but at length, seeing the
				condition of his affairs grew every day worse and worse,
				he resolved to save himself by flight; at which time the
				friends of Timarchus, having seized upon his person, slew
				him and threw his body into the sea. But what is more
				than all this, the oracular answers according to which
				Lycurgus composed the form of the Lacedaemonian commonwealth were given in prose. Besides, Alyrius, Herodotus,
				
				 
				
				 Philochorus and Ister, than whom no men have been
				more diligent to collect the answers of the oracles, among
				the many which they cite in verse, quote several also in
				prose. And Theopompus, the most diligent that ever
				made scrutiny into oracular history, sharply reprehends
				those who believed the Pythian oracles were not delivered
				in verse at that time; and yet, when he labors to prove
				his assertion, he is able to produce but very few, because
				doubtless the rest even then were uttered in prose.

Yet there are some that now at this day run in
				verse; one of which has become notorious above the rest.
				There is in Phocis a temple consecrated to Hercules the
				woman-hater, the chief priest of which is forbid by the law
				and custom of the place to have private familiarity with his
				wife during the year that he officiates; for which reason
				they most commonly make choice of old men to perform
				that function. Nevertheless, some time since a young
				man, no way vicious and covetous of honor, yet doting
				upon a new married wife, took upon him the dignity. At first
				he was very chaste and temperate, and abstained from the
				woman; but soon after, the young lady coming to give him
				a visit as he was laid down to rest himself after a brisk
				dancing and drinking bout, he could not resist the charming temptation. But then, coming to himself and remembering what he had done, perplexed and terrified, he fled to
				the oracle to consult Apollo upon the crime which he had
				committed; who returned him this answer,
				
				 All things necessary God permitteth. 
 
 	 But should we grant that in our age no oracles are delivered in verse, we should be still doubtful about the ancient
					times, when the oracles were delivered sometime in verse
					sometime in prose. Though, whether it be in prose or
					verse, the oracle is never a whit the falser or the more
					miraculous, so that we have but a true and religious opinion
					
					 
					
					 of the Deity; not irreverently conceiting that formerly
					he composed a stock of verses to be now repeated by the
					prophetess, as if he spoke through masks and visors.

But these things require a more prolix discourse
				and a stricter examination, to be deferred till another time.
				For the present, therefore, let us only call to mind thus
				much, that the body makes use of several instruments, and
				the soul employs the body and its members; the soul be
				ing the organ of God. Now the perfection of the organ
				is to imitate the thing that makes use of it, so far as it is
				capable, and to exhibit the operation of its thought, according to the best of its own power; since it cannot show it
				as it is in the divine operator himself,—neat, without any
				affection, fault, or error whatsoever,—but imperfect and
				mixed. For of itself, the thing is to us altogether unknown,
				till it is infused by another and appears to us as fully partaking of the nature of that other. I forbear to mention
				gold or silver, brass or wax, or whatever other substances
				are capable to receive the form of an imprinted resemblance. For true it is, they all admit the impression; but
				still one adds one distinction, another another, to the imitation arising from their presentation itself; as we may readily perceive in mirrors, both plane, concave, and convex,
				infinite varieties of representations and faces from one and
				the same original; there being no end of that diversity. 
 	 But there is no mirror that more exactly represents any
					shape or form, nor any instrument that yields more obsequiously to the use of Nature, than the Moon herself. And
					yet she, receiving from the Sun his masculine splendor and
					fiery light, does not transmit the same to us; but when it
					intermixes with her pellucid substance, it changes color
					and loses its power. For warmth and heat abandon the
					pale planet, and her light grows dim before it can reach
					our sight. And this is that which, in my opinion, Heraclitus seems to have meant, when he said that the prince
					
					 
					
					who rules the oracle of Delphi neither speaks out nor conceals, but signifies. Add then to these things thus rightly
					spoken this farther consideration, that the Deity makes use
					of the Pythian prophetess, so far as concerns her sight and
					hearing, as the Sun makes use of the Moon; for he makes
					use of a mortal body and an immortal soul as the organs of
					prediction. Now the body lies dull and immovable of
					itself; but the soul being restless, when once the soul begins to be in motion, the body likewise stirs, not able to
					resist the violent agitation of the nimbler spirit, while it is
					shaken and tossed as in a stormy sea by the tempestuous
					passions that ruffle within it. For as the whirling of bodies
					that merely move circularly is nothing violent, but when
					they move round by force and tend downward by nature,
					there results from both a confused and irregular circumrotation; thus that divine rapture which is called enthusiasm
					is a commixture of two motions, wherewith the soul is
					agitated, the one extrinsic, as by inspiration, the other by
					nature. For, seeing that as to inanimate bodies, which
					always remain in the same condition, it is impossible by
					preternatural violence to offer a force which is contrary to
					their nature and intended use, as to move a cylinder spherically or cubically, or to make a lyre sound like a flute, or
					a trumpet like a harp; how is it possible to manage an
					animate body, that moves of itself, that is indued with
					reason, will, and inclination, otherwise than according to its
					pre-existent reason, power, or nature; as (for example) to
					incline to music a person altogether ignorant and an utter
					enemy to music, or to make a grammarian of one that never
					knew his letters, or to make him speak like a learned man
					that never understood the least tittle of any science in the
					world?

For proof of this I may call Homer for my witness,
				who affirms that there is nothing done or brought to perfection of which God is not the cause, supposing that God
				
				 
				
				makes use not of all men for all things alike, but of every
				man according to his ability either of art or nature. Thus,
				dost thou not find it to be true, friend Diogenianus, that
				when Minerva would persuade the Greeks to undertake
				any enterprise, she brings Ulysses upon the stage?—when
				she designs to break the truce, she finds out Pandarus?—when she designs a rout of the Trojans, she addresses herself to Diomede? For the one was stout of body and valiant;
				the other was a good archer, but without brains; the other
				a shrewd politician and eloquent. For Homer was not of
				the same opinion with Pindar, at least if it was Pindar that
				made the following verses:
				
				 
 
 Were it the will of Heaven, an ozier bough
				 
 Were vessel safe enough the seas to plough. 
 
 
 
 
 	 For he well knew that there were different abilities and
					natures designed for different effects, every one of which is
					qualified with different motions, though there be but one
					moving cause that gives motion to all. So that the same
					virtual power which moves the creature that goes upon all
					four cannot cause it to fly, no more than he that stammers
					can speak fluently and eloquently, or he that has a feeble
					squeaking voice can give a loud hollow. Therefore in my
					opinion it was that Battus, when he consulted the oracle,
					was sent into Africa, there to build a new city, as being a
					person who, although he lisped and stammered, had nevertheless endowments truly royal, which rendered him fit for
					sovereign government. In like manner it is impossible the
					Pythian priestess should learn to speak learnedly and elegantly; for, though it cannot be denied but that her parentage was virtuous and honest, and that she always lived a
					sober and a chaste life, yet her education was among poor
					laboring people; so that she was advanced to the oracular
					seat rude and unpolished, void of all the advantages of art
					or experience. For as it is the opinion of Xenophon, that
					
					 
					
					a virgin ready to be espoused ought to be carried to the
					bridegroom's house when she has seen and heard as little
					as possible; so the Pythian priestess ought to converse
					with Apollo, illiterate and ignorant almost of every thing,
					still approaching his presence with a truly and pure virgin
					soul. 
 	 But it is a strange fancy of men; they believe that the
					God makes use of herons, wrens, and crows to signify future
					events, expressing himself according to their vulgar notes,
					but do not expect of these birds, although they are the
					messengers and ambassadors of the God, to deliver their
					predictions in words clear and intelligible; but they will
					not allow the Pythian priestess to pronounce her answers
					in plain, sincere, and natural expressions, but they demand
					that she shall speak in the poetical magnificence of high
					and stately verses, like those of a tragic chorus, with metaphors and figurative phrases, accompanied with the delightful sounds of flutes and hautboys.

What then shall we say of the ancients? Not one,
				but many things. First then, as hath been said already,
				that the ancient Pythian priestesses pronounced most of
				their oracles in prose. Secondly, that those ages produced
				complexions and tempers of body much more prone
				and inclined to poetry, with which immediately were associated those other ardent desires, affections, and preparations
				of the mind, which wanted only something of a beginning
				and a diversion of the fancy from more serious studies, not
				only to draw to their purpose (according to the saying of
				Philinus) astrologers and philosophers, but also in the heat
				of wine and pathetic affections, either of sudden compassion
				or surprising joy, to slide insensibly into voices melodiously
				tuned, and to fill banquets with charming odes or love songs,
				and whole volumes with amorous canzonets and mirthful
				inventions. Therefore, though Euripides tells us,
				
				 Love makes men poets who before no music knew, 
 
 
 	 he does not mean that love infuses music and poetry into
					men that were not already inclined to those accomplishments, but that it warms and awakens that disposition
					which lay unactive and drowsy before. Otherwise we
					might say that now there were no lovers in the world,
					but that Cupid himself was vanished and gone, because
					that now-a-days there is not one
					
					 
 
 Who now, true archer-like,
					 
 Lets his poetic raptures fly
					 
 To praise his mistress's lip or eye, 
 
 
 
 	 as Pindar said. But this were absurd to affirm. For
					amorous impatiencies torment and agitate the minds of
					many men not addicted either to music or poetry, that
					know not how to handle a flute or touch a harp, and yet
					are no less talkative and inflamed with desire than the
					ancients. And I believe there is no person who would be
					so unkind to himself as to say that the Academy or the
					quires of Socrates and Plato were void of love, with
					whose discourses and conferences touching that passion
					we frequently meet, though they have not left any of their
					poems behind. And would it not be the same thing to
					say, there never was any woman that studied courtship
					but Sappho, nor ever any that were endued with the gift
					of prophecy but Sibylla and Aristonica and those that
					delivered their oracles and sacred raptures in verse? For
					wine, as saith Chaeremon, soaks and infuses itself into the
					manners and customs of them that drink it. Now poetic
					rapture, like the raptures of love, makes use of the ability
					of its subject, and moves every one that receives it, according to its proper qualification.

Nevertheless, if we do but make a right reflection
				upon God and his Providence, we shall find the alteration
				to be much for the better. For the use of speech seems
				to be like the exchange of money; that which is good
				and lawful is commonly current and known, and goes
				
				 
				
				sometimes at a higher, sometimes at a lower value. Thus
				there was once a time when the stamp and coin of language was approved and passed current in verses, songs,
				and sonnets; for then all histories, all philosophical learning, all affections and subjects that required grave and
				solid discussion, were written in poetry and fitted for musical composition. For what now but a few will scarce
				vouchsafe to hear, then all men listened to,
				
				 The shepherd, ploughman, and bird-catcher too, 
 
 
 	 as it is in Pindar; all delighted in songs and verses. For
					such was the inclination of that age and their readiness to
					versify, that they fitted their very precepts and admonitions
					to vocal and instrumental music. If they were to teach,
					they did it in songs fitted to the harp. If they were to
					exhort, reprove, or persuade. they made use of fables and
					allegories. And then for their praises of the Gods, their
					vows, and paeans after victory, they were all composed in
					verse; by some, as being naturally airy and flowing in
					their invention; by others, as habituated by custom. And
					therefore it is not that Apollo envies this ornament and
					elegancy to the science of divination; nor was it his design
					to banish from the Tripos his beloved Muse, but rather
					to introduce her when rejected by others, being rather a
					lover and kindler of poetic rapture in others, and choosing
					rather to furnish laboring fancies with imaginations, and
					to assist them to bring forth the lofty and learned kind of
					language, as most becoming and most to be admired. 
 	 But afterwards, when the conversation of men and custom of living altered with the change of their fortunes and
					dispositions, consuetude expelling and discarding all manner of superfluity rejected also golden top-knots, and silken
					vestments loosely flowing in careless folds, clipped their
					long dishevelled locks, and, laying aside their embroidered
					
					 
					
					buskin, taught men to glory in sobriety and frugality in
					opposition to wantonness and superfluity, and to place true
					honor in simplicity and modesty, not in pomp and vain
					curiosity. And then it was that, the manner of writing
					being quite altered, history alighted from versifying, as it
					were from riding in chariots, and on foot distinguished
					truth from fable; and philosophy, in a clear and plain
					style, familiar and proper to instruct rather than to astonish the world with metaphors and figures, began to dispute
					and enquire after truth in common and vulgar terms. And
					then it was, that Apollo caused the Pythian priestess to
					surcease calling her fellow-citizens fire-inflaming, the Spartans serpent-devourers, men by the name of Oreanes, and
					rivers by the name of mountain-drainers; and discarding verses, uncouth words, circumlocutions, and obscurity,
					taught the oracles to speak as the laws discourse to cities,
					and as princes speak to their people and their subjects, or
					as masters teach their scholars, appropriating their manner
					of speech to good sense and persuasive grace.

For, as Sophocles tells us, we are to believe the
				Deity to be
				
				 
 
 Easy to wise men, who can truth discern;
				 
 The fool's bad teacher, who will never learn. 
 
 
 
 	 And ever since belief and perspicuity thus associated together, it came to pass by alteration of circumstances that,
					whereas formerly the vulgar looked with a high veneration upon whatever was extraordinary and extravagant,
					and conceived a more than common sanctity to lie concealed under the veil of obscurity, afterwards men desirous
					to understand things clearly and easily, without flowers of
					circumlocutions and disguisements of dark words, not only
					began to find fault with oracles enveloped with poetry, as
					repugnant to the easy understanding of the real meaning,
					and overshadowing the sentence with mist and darkness,
					but also suspected the truth of the very prophecy itself
					
					 
					
					which was muffled up in so many metaphors, riddles, and
					ambiguities, which seemed no better than holes to creep
					out at and evasions of censure, should the event prove
					contrary to what had been foretold. And some there were
					who reported that there were several extempore poets entertained about the Tripos, who were to receive the words
					as they dropped roughly from the oracle, and presently by
					virtue of their extempore fancy to model them into verses
					and measures, that served (as it were) instead of hampers
					and baskets to convey the answers from place to place.
					I forbear to tell how far those treacherous deceivers like
					Onomacritus, Herodotus (?), and Cyneso, have contributed
					to dishonor the sacred oracles, by their interlarding of
					bombast expressions and high-flown phrases, where there
					was no necessity of any such alteration. It is also as
					certain, that those mountebanks, jugglers, impostors, gipsies, and all that altar-licking tribe of vagabonds that set
					up their throats at the festivals and sacrifices to Cybele
					and Serapis, have highly undervalued poesy; some of
					them extempore, and others by lottery from certain little
					books, composing vain predictions, which they may sell to
					servants and silly women, that easily suffer themselves to
					be deluded by the overawing charms of serious ambiguity
					couched in strained and uncouth ballatry. Whence it
					comes to pass, that poetry, seeming to prostitute itself
					among cheats and deluders of the people, among mercenary gipsies and mumping charlatans, has lost its ancient
					credit, and is therefore thought unworthy the honor of the
					Tripos.

And therefore I do not wonder that the ancients
				stood in need of double meaning, of circumlocution, and
				obscurity. For certainly never any private person consulted the oracle when he went to buy a slave or hire
				workmen; but potent cities, kings and princes, whose
				undertakings and concernments were of vast and high
				
				 
				
				concernment, and whom it was not expedient for those
				that had the charge of the oracle to disoblige or incense
				by the return of answers ungrateful to their ears. For
				the deity is not bound to observe that law of Euripides,
				where he says,
				
				 
 
 Phoebus alone, and none but he,
				 
 Should unto men the prophet be. 
 
 
 
 	 Therefore, when he makes use of mortal prophets and
					agents, of whom it behooves him to take a more especial
					care that they be not destroyed in his service, he does not
					altogether go about to suppress the truth, but only eclipses
					the manifestation of it, like a light divided into sundry
					reflections, rendering it by the means of poetic umbrage
					less severe and ungrateful in the delivery. For it is not
					convenient that princes or their enemies should presently
					know what is by Fate decreed to their disadvantage.
					Therefore he so envelops his answers with doubts and
					ambiguities as to conceal from others the true understanding of what was answered; though to them that came to
					the oracle themselves, and gave due attention to the deliverer, the meaning of the answer is transparently obvious.
					Most impertinent therefore are they who, considering the
					present alteration of things, accuse and exclaim against
					the Deity for not assisting in the same manner as before.

And this may be farther said, that poetry brings no
				other advantage to the answer than this, that the sentence
				being comprised and confined within a certain number of
				words and syllables bounded by poetic measure is more
				easily carried away and retained in memory. Therefore it
				behooved those that formerly lived to have extraordinary
				memories, to retain the marks of places, the times of such
				and such transactions, the ceremonies of deities beyond
				the sea, the hidden monuments of heroes, hard to be
				found in countries far from Greece. For in those expeditions of Phalanthus and several other admirals of
				
				 
				
				great navies, how many signs were they forced to observe,
				how many conjectures to make, ere they could find the
				seat of rest allotted by the oracle! In the observance of
				which there were some nevertheless that failed, as Battus
				among others. For he said that he failed because he had
				not landed in the right place to which he was sent; and
				therefore returning back he complained to the oracle.
				But Apollo answered:
				
				 
 
 As well as I thou knowest, who ne'er hast been
				 
 In Libya covered o'er with sheep and kine;
				 
 If this is true, thy wisdom I admire: 
 
 
 
 	 and so sent him back again. Lysander also, ignorant of
					the hillock Archelides, also called Alopecus, and the river
					Hoplites, nor apprehensive of what was meant by
					
					 The earth-born dragon, treacherous foe behind, 
 
 	 being overthrown in battle, was there slain by Neochorus
					the Haliartian, who bare for his device a dragon painted
					upon his shield. But it is needless to recite any more of
					these ancient examples of oracles, difficult to be retained
					in memory, especially to you that are so well read.

And now, God be praised, there is an end of all those
				questions which were the grounds of consulting the oracle.
				For now we repose altogether in the soft slumbers of peace;
				all our wars are at an end. There are now no tumults, no
				civil seditions, no tyrannies, no pestilences nor calamities
				depopulating Greece, no epidemic diseases needing powerful and choice drugs and medicines. Now, when there is
				nothing of variety, nothing of mystery, nothing dangerous,
				but only bare and ordinary questions about small trifles
				and vulgar things, as whether a man may marry, whether
				take a voyage by sea, or lend his money safely at interest,—and when the most important enquiries of cities are concerning the next harvest, the increase of their cattle, or
				the health of the inhabitants,—there to make use of
				verses, ambiguous words, and confounding obscurities,
				
				 
				
				where the questions require short and easy answers, causes
				us to suspect that the sacred minister studies only cramp
				expressions, like some ambitious sophister, to wrest admiration from the ignorant. But the Pythian priestess is
				naturally of a more generous disposition; and therefore,
				when she is busy with the Deity, she has more need of
				truth than of satisfying her vain-glory, or of minding
				either the commendations or the dispraise of men.

And well it were, that we ourselves should be so affected. But on the contrary, being in a quandary and
				jealousy lest the oracle should lose the reputation it has
				had for these three thousand years, and lest people should
				forsake it and forbear going to it, we frame excuses to ourselves, and feign causes and reasons of things which we do
				not know, and which it is not convenient for us to know;
				out of a fond design to persuade the persons thus oddly
				dissatisfied, whom it became us rather to let alone. For
				certainly the mistake must redound to ourselves, when we
				shall have such an opinion of our Deity as to approve and
				esteem those ancient and pithy proverbs of wise men,
				written at the entrance into the temple, Know thyself, 
				 Nothing to excess, as containing in few words a full and
				close compacted sentence, and yet find fault with the
				modern oracle for delivering answers concise and plain.
				Whereas those apophthegms are like waters crowded and
				pent up in a narrow room or running between contracted
				banks, where we can no movie discern the bottom of the
				water than we can the depth and meaning of the sentence.
				And yet, if we consider what has been written and said
				concerning those sentences by such as have dived into their
				signification with an intent to clear their abstruseness, we
				shall hardly find disputes more prolix than those are. But
				the language of the Pythian priestess is such as the mathematicians define a right line to be, that is to say, the
				
				 
				
				shortest that may be drawn betwixt two points. So likewise doth she avoid all winding and circles, all double
				meanings and abstruse ambiguities, and proceed directly
				to the truth. And though she has been obnoxious to
				strict examination, yet is she not to be misconstrued without danger, nor could ever any person to this very day
				convict her of falsehood; but on the other side, she has
				filled the temple with presents, gifts, and offerings, not only
				of the Greeks but barbarians, and adorned the seat of the
				oracle with the magnificent structures and fabrics of the
				Amphictyons. And we find many additions of new buildings, many reparations of the old ones that were fallen
				down or decayed by time. And as we see from trees overgrown with shade and verdant boughs other lesser shoots
				sprout up; thus has the Delphian concourse afforded
				growth and grandeur to the assembly of the Amphictyons,
				which is fed and maintained by the abundance and affluence arising from thence, and has the form and show of
				magnificent temples, stately meetings, and sacred waters;
				which, but for the ceremonies of the altar, would not have
				been brought to perfection in a thousand years. And to
				what other cause can we attribute the fertility of the Galaxian Plains in Boeotia but to their vicinity to this oracle,
				and to their being blessed with the neighboring influences
				of the Deity, where from the well-nourished udders of the
				bleating ewes milk flows in copious streams, like water
				from so many fountain-heads?
				 
 
 Their pails run o'er, and larger vessels still
				 
 With rich abundance all their dairies fill. 
 
 
 
 	 To us appear yet more clear and remarkable signs of
					the Deity's liberality, while we behold the glory of far-famed store and plenty overflowing former penury and
					barrenness. And I cannot but think much the better of myself for having in some measure contributed to these things
					with Polycrates and Petraeus. Nor can I less admire the
					
					 
					
					first author and promoter of this good order and management. And yet it is not to be thought that such and so
					great change should come to pass in so small a time by
					human industry, without the favor of the Deity assisting
					and blessing his oracle.

But although there were some formerly who blamed
				the ambiguity and obscurity of the oracle, and others who
				at this day find fault with its modern plainness and perspicuity, yet are they both alike unjust and foolish in their
				passion; for, like children better pleased with the sight
				of rainbows, comets, and those halos that encircle the sun
				and moon, than to see the sun and moon themselves in
				their splendor, they are taken with riddles, abstruse words,
				and figurative speeches, which are but the reflections of
				oracular divination to the apprehension of our mortal understanding. And because they are not able to make a
				satisfactory judgment of this change, they find fault with
				the God himself, not considering that neither we nor they
				are able by discourse of reason to reach unto the hidden
				counsels and designs of the Deity.