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How gladly would learned men have laid aside for a few hours Pindar's Odes and Aristotle's Ethics to escort the author of Cecilia from college to college! What neat little banquets would she have found set out in their monastic cells! With what eagerness would pictures, medals, and illuminated missals have been brought forth from the most mysterious cabinets for her amusement!
This is my solution. At least I can find no better. The most obscure passage, at least the strangest passage, in all Horace may be explained by supposing that he was misled by Pindar's example: I mean that odd parenthesis in the "Qualem Ministrum:" quibus Mos unde deductus per omne .
Well, I shan't forget what you've done, Minnie. I didn't come back to Foxon Falls to talk to you again, Mrs. Pindar. I'm sorry, but I've got to go. AUGUSTA. Where? MINNIE. You didn't care yesterday why should you care today? I ought to tell you that Dr. Pindar has declined Mr. Pindar's offer. MINNIE. He isn't going to take charge of the hospital? AUGUSTA. No.
After giving some illustrations of the impression produced upon the imagination by a study of Pindar's odes, the writer proceeds with his characterization, in the following language: "He who has watched a sunset attended by the passing of a thunder-storm in the outskirts of the Alps who has seen the distant ranges of the mountains alternately obscured by cloud and blazing with the concentrated brightness of the sinking sun, while drifting scuds of hail and rain, tawny with sunlight, glistening with broken rainbows, clothe peak and precipice and forest in the golden veil of flame-irradiated vapor he who has heard the thunder bellow in the thwarting folds of hills, and watched the lightning, like a snakes tongue, flicker at intervals amid gloom and glory knows, in Nature's language, what Pindar teaches with the voice of Art.
DR. JONATHAN. Yes, Asher. He lays a hand on her arm. George! AUGUSTA. Oh Asher, not not ! He gives it to her. TIMOTHY. Please God he'll be spared to ye! SCENE: Same as in Act I, the library of ASHER PINDAR'S house. TIME: The following day, early afternoon. A storm is raging, with wind and rain and occasional bright flashes of lightning and heavy peals of thunder.
It was impossible that a man of his genius and temperament should have lived through these times without representing to us with breadth and intensity the spirit that was in them, and there are several points in Pindar's circumstances which make his relation to his age peculiarly interesting.
Say, every time I meet the minister I want to cry, he says to himself, "She ran away from Jesus and went to the bad. What right has she got to be happy?" And Mrs. Pindar's just the same. If you leave the straight and narrow path you can't never get back they keep pushing you off. I've always had my doubts about your sins, Minnie.
"Ah!" she said, "the ages are long; if there be gods, their days are our lifetimes, and we but see a little and know not what to think. But to live a noble life will always be the fairest thing, whether death be an unending sleep or the threshold to Pindar's Elysium."
Striking his sword and pistol together, he advanced in a sort of trot, raising a loud howl, in which he repeated, in lieu of the Spartan song, part of the strophe from one of Pindar's Pythia, beginning with ek theon gar makanoi pasai Broteais aretais, etc.
In his "Ode to Himself upon the Censure of his New Inn" in 1620 Jonson, like Landor long afterward, takes scornful refuge from the present in turning back to Greece and Rome: "Leave things so prostitute, And take the Alcaic lute; Or thine own Horace, or Anacreon's lyre; Warm thee by Pindar's fire."
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