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allegory!), often overtaking him, and always willing to share his hardships as well as his comforts and triumphs. More sensitive and more liable to suffer than Love, but sustained by some vague indefinable hope that more lasting happiness must come of it all in the end, she has attracted the attention of poets and artists almost as much as Love himself, and could not be omitted from any scheme for a work on Aspects of Love in Art and Epigram. Many indeed would say that love altogether, like the peace of God, "passeth all understanding”; but be that as it may, he would be a bold man who would attempt in a volume of this kind to reflect all the beauty and mystic Murillo-like glamour of Eros and his mother, together with the varying Iris-tinted aspects of Psyche. Clearly, such an immense material would have to be subdivided into small divisions, amongst which some would have a good deal to do with engraved gems, medals, and minor works of art. Thus, we might expect such headings as: "The Trials of Love on Antique Gems," Mischievous Love and Love's Punishments on Roman Gems, Lamps, &c.," "The Triumph of Love as illustrated by Renaissance Artists," 99 66 The Crown of Love, as illustrated by nineteenthcentury English Art (of the 'Sweet' kind)"; and "Love in the Gutter, a study of certain Roman tesserae (so-called Spintriae), &c., and of the caricaturists of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries"; but the last group could hardly be illustrated, as far as I can judge from two Roman spintriae that I have given to the British Museum. An interesting volume would be one on "Historical Marriage Medals," and many of what one might call "stock" marriage medals (for general use as gifts at private weddings) are also beautiful. There is a curious tendency for both dealers and collectors to attribute marriage medals of the latter class, by such medallists as Peter van Abeele, Sebastian Dadler, Johann Buchheim, Johann Blum, &c., to particular (historical) marriages. In regard to "Arrhae" or "tokens of spousage" see a very interesting article by Hubert Thurston, reprinted in the American Journal of Numismatics, Boston, 1906, vol. xli. pp. 31-36. At one time in France the arrhae (“earnest money ") consisted of thirteen coins or jetons, a treizain as it was called. They were sometimes preserved in cases, and handed down as heirlooms from generation to generation. Thus Poey d'Avant spoke of a set of thirteen hardis of Edward the Black Prince in his collection, which had been gilded and fitted in a case, the workmanship of the latter pointing to a date a century or more later than the coins themselves. The treizains for spousage sometimes consist of pieces specially struck for the purpose in bronze, silver or gold. The devices and inscriptions on such pieces vary considerably. Amongst the legends are the following: DENIER POUR ÉPOUSER; DENIER TOURNOIS POUR ÉPOUSER; LA FOY UNIT NOS DEUX COEURS; QUOD DEUS CONIUNXIT HOMO NON SEPARET. A jeton dated 1559 has on the reverse: IAM NON SUNT DUO SED UNA CARO. It has been supposed that certain gold pieces of Louis le Debonnaire (son of Charles the Great, whom he succeeded in A.D. 814), and of Vigmund, Archbishop of

York (A.D. 831-854), with the reverse inscription MUNUS DIVINUM, were struck as marriage pieces or to serve some similar religious purpose. On the use of the old German "Schraubthaler" or "Boxdollars"-large silver coins cleverly hollowed out so as to form a case to enclose a portrait, &c.—as marriage gifts, see an article by M. Kirmis, in Daheim, May 5, 1900.

A very interesting subject for a small work would be the Aspects of Evolution in Epigram and Art. This would include poems and various minor works of art relating to Progress-bodily or mentalby struggle, and the role played by Resistance in physical and psychical development. The motto, Marcet sine adversario virtus (from Seneca,

12

12 In this connexion it is interesting to note that Field-Marshal Count von Moltke, in a letter to Professor Bluntschli, dated December 11, 1880, and translated in the Times (London, February 1, 1881, p. 3, column 4), wrote: "Perpetual peace is a dream, and it is not even a beautiful dream. War is an element in the order of the world ordained by God. In it the noblest virtues of mankind are developed: courage and the abnegation of self, faithfulness to duty, and the spirit of sacrifice the soldier gives his life. Without war the world would stagnate, and lose itself in materialism."

One may believe, however, in the doctrine of progress by pain and struggle, and yet not believe in the necessity for wars. By the laws of evolution and the "survival of the fittest" struggle of some kind there must be for the fittest to progress, but the struggle, or rather struggles (however severe and "painful"), may be of a peaceful kind, and not the strife of war. Just as an individual human being may become stronger and make progress in every way by battling against his physical and moral vices-the "evil" in his nature--and compensating his own infirmities, so may a nation gain strength and steadily progress, not by destructive wars, but by resisting its own national vices (and the vices of its individual components), by compensating its own shortcomings, and by peaceful competition with its neighbours. Doubtless, the kind of progress made through the trials and "survival of the fittest" in warfare is different to the kind of progress made by means of peaceful competitions and self-restraint, but in the civilised world of modern times surely it is the latter kind of progress which is preferable and more needed. In short, it is probable that wars and harsh conditions in the "struggle for existence are no longer necessary or salutary for the progress of civilised human races. Men could surely always find sufficient to oppose and counteract in their own weaknesses and faulty tendencies, to give them abundant scope for salutary mental and bodily exercise. Sir Theodore Martin (Horace, Edinburgh, 1876, p. 63), regarding the relations of Horace to his Roman contemporaries, wrote (the italics are mine): "He told them, in every variety of phrase and illustration-in ode, in satire, and epistle-that without self-control and temperance in all things, there would be no joy without remorse, no pleasure without fatigue-that it is from within that happiness must come, if it comes at all, and that unless the mind has schooled itself to peace by the renunciation of covetous desires,

We may be wise, or rich, or great,

But never can be blest.'

This sounds exaggerated, but Horace was both a poet and a philosopher.

De Providentiâ, cap. ii.), which appears on the reverse of a medal (which I have referred to in Part II., under Heading xv.) by Jean de Candida, with the portrait of his friend and patron, Robert Briçonnet (a French statesman and Archbishop of Rheims, an enlightened scholar of the "new learning," who died in 1497), may to some extent be taken as suggesting the evolutionary doctrine of the necessity for resistance of some kind for the maintenance of bodily and mental health. By the laws of evolution the only alternative to idleness with regression is activity with progression. Practically no middle course is possible. Resistance of some kind and of some degree is necessary for "vital reaction," whether physical or psychical. Without resistance (i.e. resistance in the form of blood-pressure) the heart, for instance, would degenerate or cease beating altogether, though Alexis Carrel has (by cultivation in chicken plasma) succeeded in keeping a fragment of the heart of an embryonic chicken pulsating for 104 days (see Berliner Klinische Wochenschrift, 1914, li. p. 509). Resistance, competition, the "struggle for life," and the "survival of the fittest" are necessary for "progress by evolution," and this consideration affords the most rational ground for taking an optimistic view of the "pitiable side" of life, namely, that it is necessary, if not for the individual, yet at least for the mass. Even pain has its use; it is, as A. R. Wallace (The World of Life, London, 1910) points out, an essential factor in evolution, probably more useful in the higher than in the lower organisms. By the laws of evolution it would hardly continue to exist if it were not needed. In Goethe's Faust, God is represented as saying

"Des Menschen Thätigkeit kann allzuleicht erschlaffen,

Er liebt sich bald die unbedingte Ruh;

Drum geb' ich gern ihm den Gesellen zu,

Der reizt und wirkt, und muss, als Teufel, schaffen."

According to Goethe Nature "attaches her curse on all inaction." Cf. Gustav Falke's modern prayer

"Herr! lass mich hungern dann und wann,

Satt sein macht stumpf und träge,

Und gib mir Feinde, Mann für Mann,

Kampf hält die Kräfte rege."

In a somewhat similar strain Robert Louis Stevenson ("The Celestial Surgeon ") prays, if his spirit be too obdurate and his heart too callous, that before his spirit dies God may take

"A piercing pain, a killing sin,

And to my dead heart run them in."

Moreover, though he gave up the profession of arms and wisely abstained from seeking political power, and though he was protected from excesses both in practical life and in his mental outlook by his sound common sense, was he really without personal ambition, and was there not something of the fighting man' still left in him? How about his Non omnis moriar? How about his Satires and Epodes?

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The " polarity" of pain and pleasure, and the probably beneficial action of pain, are apparently alluded to by Thomas Edward Brown (1830-1897), in his poem commencing, The man that hath great griefs I pity not

"For thus it is God stings us into life,
Provoking actual souls

From bodily systems, giving us the poles

That are His own, not merely balanced strife."

The essence of James Hinton's (1822-1875) teaching in regard to the " Mystery of Pain "13 was that, for human beings and animals alike, pain is the "guardian angel of the body," and that from the psychical point of view pain is likewise the "guardian angel of the soul."

Of the necessity for the existence of pain and "evil," and their actual utility, at least in many cases, for the healthy existence and progress of body and mind, there can be no doubt. Seneca, in his De Providentia Liber, endeavoured, like many other ancient philosophers, to answer the question, Quare aliqua incommoda bonis viris accidant cum sit Providentia, and in his explanation he endeavoured to make clear (he addressed his discussion on the subject to his friend, Lucilius Junior) that inconveniences, trials, pains, and apparent disasters were probably often beneficial to human beings. Of the usefulness of some so-called "evils" he appeared to be convinced. It

13 Cf. James Hinton, The Mystery of Pain, London, 1866; also Mrs. Havelock Ellis, Three Modern Seers, London, 1910, Chapter iii., on Hinton's teaching regarding the " Mystery of Pain." From the physical point of view, indeed, pain is almost as important for life as hunger is. Hunger, as the expression of an imperative need, serves to secure the adequate nutrition of the body. A burnt child dreads the fire" (Chaucer included this cosmopolitan proverb in the Romaunt of the Rose). "Pain," says Mrs. Havelock Ellis (op. cit., p. 91), “is an imperative warning, and so an education. Life and growth would cease in the first stage of evolution but for pain. The child cuts its finger; it is in pain, so it learns to avoid the dangerous plaything. The cat warms itself on the table by the lamp; it singes its fur, and, through pain, it avoids the lamp for the future. The boy over-eats; he gets pain, and so learns avoidance of that which causes pain." From the medical point of view, in regard to disease and wounds, the value of pain, as a danger-signal, and as an indication for physical and physiological rest, has often been pointed out, but notably and especially clearly by John Hilton (1808-1878), the London surgeon, in his classical treatise on "Rest and Pain," first published in 1863. It is interesting to note that Charles Leadbetter, in his Mechanick Dialling (first edition, London, 1737), under mottoes for sun-dials (Chapter xxiii. No. 39), gives: Post Voluptatem Misericordia, the English equivalent for which (Pleasure is the Parent of Pain), he said, was, or might be, a sun-dial inscription on a "Lock Hospital" for venereal diseases.

is in the second chapter of this work of his that the above-mentioned sentence, Marcet sine adversario virtus, occurs. An interesting essay, to some extent dealing with the subject of the necessity of "evil," is that by Paul Carus, entitled, The History of the Devil and the Idea of Evil, London, 1900. Havelock Ellis (Impressions and Comments, London, 1914, pp. 32, 33), commenting on Stanley Hall's plea for not eliminating the Devil, the inseparable companion of God, from Christian theology, or rather for rehabilitating him, writes: "Even the Puritan Milton... made Satan the real hero of his theological epic, while the austere Carducci addressed a famous ode to Satan as the creator of human civilisation." On the other side of the world we find that "the great Hawaiian goddess Kapo had a double life-now an angel of grace and beauty, now a demon of darkness and lust. Every profound vision of the world must recognise these two equally essential aspects of Nature and of Man; every vital religion must embody both aspects in superb and ennobling symbols. A religion can no more afford to degrade its Devil than to degrade its God." Of course the subject also involves the whole question of the distinction between what under certain circumstances is right and what is wrong. At all events, it is probable that many a man, looking back on his own past life, has felt a justifiable satisfaction at having, on some occasion or other, been branded as an advocatus diaboli, whether the term were applied in friendly ridicule, in scorn, or in hate.

In connexion with Seneca's Marcet sine adversario virtus, the following is a striking passage from one of the best-known novels (Chandos, 1866) by Ouida (Louise De la Ramée): "The bread of bitterness is the food on which men grow to their fullest stature; the waters of bitterness are the debatable ford through which they reach the shores of wisdom. . . . The swimmer cannot tell his strength

till he has gone through the wild force of opposing waves; the great man cannot tell the might of his hand and the power of his resistance till he has wrestled with the angel of adversity, and held it close till it has blessed him."

Amongst many proverbial expressions relating to the dualistic idea of good and evil, such as "No roses without thorns," is "Nulla sine merore [maerore] voluptas" ("No pleasure without sadness"), which appears as the motto of Georg Gisze (a Basel merchant "of the Steelyard" in London) on his magnificent portrait, dated 1532, by Holbein, now in the Picture Gallery of the Old Museum at Berlin. Leonarda da Vinci (Note-books, rendered into English by E. McCurdy) wrote, "Pleasure and Pain are represented as twins, as though they were joined together, for there is never the one without he other. They are made with their backs turned to each other, because they are contrary the one to the other. They are made growing out of the same trunk, because they have one and the same foundation." The pain of efforts is, however, often absorbed in the pleasure of success in efforts, and so indeed we have the motto, "Labor ipse voluptas."