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Here the pouring of water through a sieve seems plainly an imitation of a shower, and reminds us of the manner in which Strepsiades in Aristophanes imagined that rain was made by Zeus. Sometimes, in order to procure rain, the Toradjas make an appeal to the pity of the dead. Thus, in the village of Kalingooa, there is the grave of a famous chief, the grandfather of the present ruler.
Aristophanes characterizes this way of speaking very accurately indeed in the Clouds when he makes Strepsiades sum up the teaching he has received in the words 'Vortex has driven out Zeus and reigns in his stead', and when he makes Socrates swear by 'Chaos, Respiration and Air'. So too the Milesians spoke of the primary substance as 'ageless and deathless', which is a Homeric phrase used to mark the difference between gods and men, but this only means that the emotion formerly attached to the divine was now being transferred to the natural.
Nay, but the glory of the old time sleepeth, and mortals are unmindful thereof, save such as married to the sounding stream of song attaineth unto the perfect meed that wisdom giveth. New triumph now lead for Strepsiades with melodious hymn: for at Isthmos hath he borne away the pankratiast's prize.
The passage selected is part of a dialogue between Socrates and Strepsiades, one of his pupils; and it is introduced by an address from the chorus of "Clouds", the new divinities of the physicist: CHORUS OF CLOUDS. Our welcome to thee, old man, who would see the marvels that science can show: And thou, the high-priest of this subtlety feast, say what would you have us bestow?
If worthy Strepsiades could have got an Asmodean glimpse of Fifth Avenue, or even of some unpretending street in Cambridge, he might have gone back to his aristocratic wife a sadder but a more contented man. Wealth or at least what would until lately have been called wealth has become essential to comfort; while the opportunities for acquiring it have in recent times been immensely multiplied.
The dignity of his thought owes nothing to any ceremonial garb of words, but to the manly movement that comes of settled purpose and an energy of reason that knows not what rhetoric means. There has been nothing of Cleon, still less of Strepsiades striving to underbid him in demagogism, to be found in the public utterances of Mr. Lincoln.
Since there is not a sage for whom we'd engage our wonders more freely to do, Except, it may be, for Prodicus: he for his knowledge may claim them, but you, Because as you go, you glance to and fro, and in dignified arrogance float; And think shoes a disgrace, and put on a grave face, your acquaintance with us to denote. STREPSIADES. Oh earth! what a sound, how august and profound!
He finds the master teacher suspended in air, in a basket, that he may be above earthly influences, and there "contemplating the sun," and endeavoring to search out "celestial matters." To the appeal of Strepsiades, Socrates, interrupted in his reveries, thus answers: Socrates. Old man, sit you still, and attend to my will, and hearken in peace to my prayer.
Aristophanes, in the "Clouds," says: SOCRATES: First they will help you to be pleasant in company, and to know what is meant by OEnoplian rhythm and what by the Dactylic. I know that quite well. SOCRATES: What is it then? STREPSIADES: Why, 'tis this finger; formerly, when a child, I used this one.
"But," questions Strepsiades, "who but Zeus makes the clouds sweep along?" to which Socrates answers: "Not a bit of it; it is atmospheric whirligig." "Whirligig?" muses Strepsiades; "I never thought of that that Zeus is gone and that Son Whirligig rules now in his stead."
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