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If any solace, any joy may fall, Calvus, to silent sepulchres through tears,
When the lost love regretful we recall And weep the parted friend of early years,
Then, sure, Quintilia is not wholly sad, Untimely lost: your love has made her glad.
[Si quicquam mutis gratum acceptumve sepulcris
accidere a nostro, Calve, dolore potest,
quo desiderio veteres renovamus amores
atque olim junctas flemus amicitias,
certe non tanto mors immatura dolori est
Quintiliae, quantum gaudet amore tuo.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 96 [tr. MacNaghten (1925), “On the Death of Quintilia, Wife of Calvus”]
(Source)
If ever to the dumb, sepulcrhal urn The tribute of a tear could grateful prove;
What timne each recollected scene we mourn, Each deed of ancient friendship, and of love:
Less sure, fond youth, must thy Quintilia grieve That she by death's cold hand untimely fell;
Than joys her parted spirit to perceive How much her Calvus lov'd her, and how well!
[tr. Nott (1795), # 91 "To Calvus, on Quintilia]
Calvus, if any joy from mortal tears Can touch the feelings of the silent dead;
When dwells regret on loves of former years, Or weeps o'er friendships that have long been fled,
Oh! then far less will be Quintilia's woe At early death and fate's severe decree,
Than the pure pleasure she will feel to know How well, how truly she was loved by thee!
[tr. Lamb (1821), # 90 "To Calvus, on the Death of Quintilia"]
Calvus, if those now silent in the tomb Can feel the touch of pleasure in our tears,
For those we loved, who perished in their bloom, And the departed friends of former years;
Oh, then, full surely thy Quinctilia's woe, For the untimely fate that bade ye part,
Will fade before the bliss she feels ot know, How every dear she is unto thy heart!
[tr. T. Martin (1861), "To Calvus"]
Calvus! if from our grief aught can accrue The silent dead to solace or to cheer,
When fond regret broods o'er old loves anew, And o'er lost friendships sheds the bitter tear
Oh ! then her grief at death's untimely blow To thy Quintilia; far, far less must prove
Than the pure joy her soul must feel, to know Thy true, unchanging, ever-during love.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867), "To Calvus, on teh Death of Quintilia"]
If to the silent dead aught sweet or tender ariseth, Calvus, of our dim grief's common humanity born;
When to a love long cold some pensive pity recalls us, When for a friend long lost wakes some unhappy regret;
Not so deeply, be sure, Quintilia's early departing Grieves her, as in thy love dureth a plenary joy.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
If to the dumb deaf tomb can aught or grateful or pleasing
(Calvus!) ever accrue rising from out of our dule,
Wherewith yearning desire renews our loves in the bygone,
And for long friendships lost many a tear must be shed;
Certès, never so much for doom of premature death-day
Must thy Quintilia mourn as she is joyed by thy love.
[tr. Burton (1893) "To Calvus anent Dead Quintilia"]
Calvus, if anything pleasing or welcome from our grief can have an effect on silent graves, then with its longing we renew old loves and weep friendships once lost, surely Quintilia does not mourn her premature death as much as she rejoices in your love.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
If living sorrows any boon
Unto the silent grave can give, When sad remembrances revive
Old loves and friendships fugitive,
She sorrows less she died so soon Than joys your love is still alive.
[tr. Symons (c. 1900)]
If the silent grave can receive any pleasure, or sweetness at all from our grief, Calvus, the grief and regret with which we renew our old loves, and weep for long lost friendships, surely Quintilia feels less sorrow for her too early death, than pleasure from your love.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
If our grief, Calvus, can give any pleasure or consolation to the buried dead, and the yearning with which we re-enkindle old loves, and weep lost friends; then surely Quintilia; must feel less sorrow for her untimely end than joy in your love
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]
If the silent grave can receive any pleasure, or sweetness at all from our grief, Calvus, the grief and regret with which we make our old loves live again, and weep for long-lost friendships, surely Quintilia feels less sorrow for her too early death, than pleasure from your love.
[tr. Warre Cornish (Loeb) (1913)]
If into the silent tomb can steal Some tenderness, some thought devine,
If aught from this life the dead can feel, Then, Calvus, be this solace thine.
When we mourn old friends with longing heart; For dear dead loves in anguish cry,
Oh, there, do they feel the hot tears start, Touched by a love that cannot die?
If this be, Calvus, thy sweet girl wife. There in the tomb shall less grief know
For her spring time lost, her broken life, Than joy in thy love that loved her so.
[tr. Stewart (1915)]
If yearning grief can pierce the tomb, Reach silent souls and cheer their gloom,
When, Calvus, we lost loves regret, And mourn the dear we ne'er forget,
Quintilia'll cease her death to rue, For joy she's proved your love so true.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923), "To Calvus on Quintilia"]
If from our anguish to the voiceless tomb Some meed of pleasure and of joy may come
When we recall the love we felt of yore And the dear face whom now we see no more,
Then know thy sorrow gives thy wife beneath A joy surpassing all the pains of death.
[tr. Wright (1926), "To Calvus on the Death of His Wife Quintilia"]
If anything can pierce impenetrable earth and echo in the silence
of the grave, my Calvus, it is our sad memory
of those we love. (Our longing for them makes them bloom again,
quickened with love and friendship,
even though they left us long ago, heavy with tears).
Surely, yur Quintilia now no longer cries against powerful death
(who had taken her away from you too soon and she was gone).
Look, she is radiant, fixed in your mind, happy forever.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
If those in their silent graves can receive any pleasure or comfort at all, Calvus, from our lamenting, from that desire which we rekindle former affections and weep for friendships we long ago surrendered, then surely her premature death brings less grief than joy to Quintilia, whom you continue to cherish.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
If anything from our grief, can reach beyond
the mute grave, Calvus, and be pleasing and welcome,
grief with which, in longing, we revive our lost loves,
and weep for vanished friendships once known,
surely Quintilia’s not so much sad for her early death,
as joyful for your love.
[tr. Kline (2001), "Beyond The Grave: to Gaius Licinius Calvus"]
If anything pleasant or welcome, Calvus, can befall the mute sepulchre in consequence of our grief, from the yearning with which we renew our ancient passions and weep for friendships long since cast away, surely it's not so much grief that's felt by Quintilia at her premature death , as joyfulness in your love.
[tr. Green (2005)]
If anything pleasing or acceptable to silent sepulchers is able to be done by our grief, Calvus,
by this longing we renew old loves and we lament once sent away friendships.
Certainly a premature death is not of such sadness to Quintilia, so much as she rejoices in your love.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
If anything dear and welcome can happen in mute graves
Because of our sadness, Calvus,
Because of that longing by which we renew old loves
And by which we weep for friendships formed long ago,
Surely Quintilia isn’t saddened by her untimely death,
But rather, she’s gladdened by your love.
[tr. Benn (2022)]
Proud purple kings shall kneel before thy throne, Mix’d with the poor, their pomp, their glory gone:
All vain distinctions levelled by the grave, Thy righteous sentence shall condemn or save.
[Sub tua purpurei venient vestigia reges
deposito luxu turba cum paupere mixti
(omnia mors aequat); tu damnatura nocentes,
tu requiem latura piis.]
Claudian (c. AD 370-404) Greco-Latin poet
[Claudius Claudianus; Κλαυδιανός] The Rape of Prosperine [De Raptu Proserpinæ], Book 2, I. 300 (c. AD 396) [tr. Howard (1854)]
(Source)
Pluto reassuring Proserpine that being Queen of the Underworld has its benefits.
Source of the phrase Omnia mors æquat, "Death levels all things" or "Death makes all equal."
The rich-clad purple kings shall humbly fall Before thy throne (mixt with the poore) for all
Death equals; thou the guilty and unjust Shalt judge, with them, the Innocente and Just.
Those shall bewaile their crimes, these shall be blest By thee, and sent into eternal rest.
[tr. Diggs (1617)]
Before thy lofty Throne, the haughty Pride Of mighty Kings, their Purple laid aside
And Pageantry of State, shall lowly fall, Mix'd with the poorer Rout, for Death will equal all.
In Judgement thou shalt sit, with Pow'r supreme, To crown the Pious and the Bad condemn.
[tr. Hughes (1723)]
Monarchs shall appear
Before thee, spoil'd of regal ornament,
And undistinguish'd from the vulgar crowd:
Death renders all men equal. Thou shalt judge
The guilty; and thy hand shall give the meed
To virtue.
[tr. Strutt (1814), l. 369ff]
To thy feet shall come purple-clothed kings, stripped of their pomp, and mingling with the unmoneyed throng; for death renders all equal. Thou shalt give doom to the guilty and rest to the virtuous.
[tr. Platnauer (Loeb) (1922)]
Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven
Is Love’s location. No dogmatic creed,
No austere faith based on ignoble fear
Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace.
Unless the humblest creatures on the earth
Are bettered by thy loving sympathy
Think not to find a Paradise beyond.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) American author and poet.
“The Way,” ll. 5-11 (1913), Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels (1913)
(Source)
The barbaric world was to be rewarded in some other world for acting sensibly in this. They were promised rewards in another world, if they would only have self-denial enough to be virtuous in this. If they would forego the pleasures of larceny and murder; if they would forego the thrill and bliss of meanness here, they would be rewarded hereafter for that self-denial. I have exactly the opposite idea. Do right, not to deny yourself, but because you love yourself and because you love others. Be generous, because it is better for you. Be just, because any other course is the suicide of the soul. Whoever does wrong plagues himself, and when he reaps that harvest, he will find that he was not practicing self-denial when he did right.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Speech (1886-11-14), “A Lay Sermon,” American Secular Union annual congress, Chickering Hall, New York City
(Source)
Eternal torment some sour wits foretell
For those who follow wine and love too well, — Fear not, for God were left alone in Heaven
If all the lovely lovers burnt in hell.
Omar Khayyám (1048-1123) Persian poet, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer [عمر خیام] Rubáiyát [رباعیات], Bod. # 127 [tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]
(Source)
I am fairly certain I am conflating two different quatrains below, Bodleian 127 (which mentions hypocrisy in the second line), and one not found in that manuscript (see the Whinfield translations). But both conclude with the sentiment that if lovers and drinkers are to be sent to Hell, then Heaven will be empty. Further discernment is left as an exercise for the reader.
This quatrain(s) is also unique in FitzGerald only offering a single go at translation, and that in just the 2nd ed.
Alternate translations:
If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band
Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise
Were empty as the hollow of one's hand.
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd Ed (1868), # 65; this does not appear in other editions before or after]
Folk say that there is a hell. This is a vain error, in which no trust should be placed, for if there were a hell for lovers and for bibbers of wine, why heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty as the hollow of my hand.
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 131]
If wine be an unpardonable sin,
God help Khayyam and his wine-bibbing kin! If all poor drouthy souls be lodged elsewhere,
Heaven's plains must be as bare as maiden's chin.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 33]
Drunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare,
Believe it not, 'tis but a foolish scare; Heaven will be empty as this hand of mine,
If none who love good drink find entrance there.
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 67]
To drain the cup, to hover round the fair,
Can hypocritic arts with these compare? If all who love and drink are going wrong,
There's many a wight of heaven may well despair!
[tr. Winfield (1883), #381]
With Tales of future pains men threaten me,
They say there is a Hell in store for thee; -- Love, if there is a Hell for all like us,
Their Heaven as empty as my Palm will be.
[tr. Garner (1887), 1.19]
To drink wine and consort with a company of the beautiful
is better than practising the hypocrisy of the zealot; if the lover and the drunkard are doomed to hell,
then no one will see the face of heaven.
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 127]
Better to drink, with fair maids wander free.
Than in deceit to practice piety; If sots and lovers all in Hell will be.
Then who would wish the face of Heaven to see?
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 425]
Tis better here with Love and Wine to sit
Than to become the zealous hypocrite; If all who love or drink are doom'd to Hell,
On whom shall Heaven bestow a benefit?
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 127]
Drinking wine and wooing fair ones
Is a better thing than the hypocrisy of fanatics. If all who drink wine were to go to Hell
No one would then behold Paradise.
[tr. Rosen (1928), # 256]
Better to drink and dance with rosy fairs,
Than cheat the folk with doubtful pious wares; Tho' drunkards, so they say, are doomed to hell,
To go to heaven with cheats who ever cares?
[tr. Tirtha (1941), # 10.88]
They say lovers and drunkards go to hell,
A controversial dictum not easy to accept: If the lover and drunkard are for hell,
Tomorrow Paradise will be empty.
[tr. Avery/Heath-Stubbs (1979), # 87]
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.
Robert Burns (1759-1796) Scottish national poet
“Epitaph on My Own Friend and My Father’s Friend, William Muir in Tarbolton,” ll. 7-8 (1784-04), First Commonplace Book (1785).
(Source)
A mock epitaph for William Muir (1745-1793), a miller in Tarbolton and good friend to Burns' family.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust Descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and — sans End!
FitzGerald used the same translation for all his editions, though the number changed -- #23 in the 1st, #26 in the 2nd, and #24 in the 3rd, 4th, and 5th. editions.
Alternate translations:
Yon rolling heaven for our destruction, yours and mine,
Aims its stroke at our lives, yours and mine; Come, live, sit on the grass - it will not be long
Ere grass grows out of our dust, yours and mine.
[tr. Cowell (1858), # 3]
This wheel of heaven seeks my destruction and thine, it plots against my soul and thine. Come, seat thyself upon the grass, for in a little while fresh grass will spring from this dust of mine and thine.
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 358]
The wheel of heaven still holds his set design
To take away thy life, O love and mine, Sit we on this green turf, 'twill not be long
Ere turf will hide my dust along with thine
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 205]
O Love, for ever doth heaven's wheel design
To take away thy precious life, and mine; Sit we upon this turf, 't will not be long
Ere turf shall grow upon my dust, and thine!
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 390]
The "wheel of heaven" in its Fatal Play
Will soon our Breath of Being steal away, -- Come rest thee on this bank, for from our dust
Will spring the Vedure at no distant day.
[tr. Garner (1887), 3.3]
The wheel of Heaven thy death and mine is bringing, friend!
Over our lives the cloud of doom 't is flinging, friend! Come, sit upon this turf, for little time is left
Ere fresher turf shall from our dust be springing, friend!
[tr. M. K. (1888)]
Beautiful wheel of blue above my head,
Will you be turning still when I am dead? Were you still turning long before I came? --
O bitter thought to take with me to bed.
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897), # 54]
The heavenly vault, for the sake of my destruction and thine,
wages war upon my pure sole and thine; Sit upon the green sward, O my Idol! for it will not be long
ere that green sward shall grow from my dust and thine.
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 129]
Against our dear lives holding its design,
This wheel of Heaven doth plot thy death and mine; Come sit upon this grass, 'twill not be long
Ere verdure springs up from my dust and thine.
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 442]
The Heavens, that they may destroy us both,
On our pure souls to war are nothing loth; Sit down, my Idol, on the grass, for soon
My dust and thine shall aid its vernal growth.
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 129]
This wheel of Heaven, for the sake of my destruction
and thine, has designs upon my pure soul and thine. Sit down on the grass, o idol, for it will not be long
ere grass shall spring from my dust and thine.
[tr. Christensen (1927), # 35]
This Wheel of the Spheres revolves for your annihilation and for mine,
It has evil intentions on your pure soul and on mine. Rest on the meadow, my Iove, for not much time will pass.
Until grass springs from your dust and from mine.
[tr. Rosen (1928), # 262]
This Wheel of time effaces me and thee,
To slaughter us it chases me and thee; Sit on the lawn and love, for time arrives
When lawn would hide our traces, me and thee.
[tr. Tirtha (1941), # 2.53]
This wheel of heaven, in order to destroy me and thee, has fell purpose against my innocent soul and thine: sit on the grass, and drink wine, and be happy, for this grass shall spring from my dust and thine.
[tr. Bowen (1976), # 14]
The wheel of Fate is crooked. It destroys Such innocent young souls as yours and mine:
So, joyously, sit down upon the grass And while away this hour in drinking wine.
Alas! the herbage which delights our eyes, On which you now recline your lovely head,
Is rooted in the dust of loves -- and Will spring from ours one day when we are dead.
[alt. tr. Bowen (1976), # 14]
Don’t permit sorrow to be your friend
Sadness and pain become your trend Don’t let the book or the farm you tend
Rule your life before to earth you descend.
[tr. Shahriari (1998), literal]
Before to dust you shall return
There is one thing that you must learn Sorrow and pain your soul shall burn
Joy and bliss to light shall turn.
[tr. Shahriari (1998), figurative]
§ 94. But why should every individual not have been present more than once in this world? § 95. Is this hypothesis so ridiculous just because it is the oldest one? Because the human understanding hit up on it at once, before it was distracted and weakened by the sophistry of the schools? § 98. Why should I not come back as often as I am able to acquire new knowledge and new accomplishments? Do I take away so much on one occasion that it may not be worth the trouble coming back? § 100. Or am I not to return because too much time would be lost in so doing? — Lost? — And what exactly do I have to lose? Is not the whole of eternity mine?
[§ 94. Aber warum könnte jeder einzelne Mensch auch nicht mehr als einmal auf dieser Welt vorhanden gewesen seyn? § 95. Ist diese Hypothese darum so lächerlich, weil sie die älteste ist? weil der menschliche Verstand, ehe ihn die Sophisterey der Schule zerstreut und geschwächt hatte, sogleich darauf verfiel? § 98. Warum sollte ich nicht so oft wiederkommen, als ich neue Kenntnisse, neue Fertigkeiten zu erlangen geschickt bin? Bringe ich auf Einmal so viel weg, daß es der Mühe wieder zu kommen etwa nicht lohnet? § 100. Oder, weil so zu viel Zeit für mich verloren gehen würde?—Verloren? —Und was habe ich denn zu versäumen? Ist nicht die ganze Ewigkeit mein?]
Gotthold Lessing (1729-1781) German playwright, philosopher, dramaturg, writer The Education of the Human Race [Die Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts] (1780)
(Source)
§ 94. But why should not every individual man have existed more than once upon this World? § 95. Is this hypothesis so laughable merely because it is the oldest? Because the human understanding, before the sophistries of the Schools had dissipated and debilitated it, lighted upon it at once? § 98. Why should I not come back as often as I am capable of acquiring fresh knowledge, fresh expertness? Do I bring away so much from once, that there is nothing to repay the trouble of coming back? § 100. Or is it a reason against the hypothesis that so much time would have been lost to me? Lost? -- And how much then should I miss? -- Is not a whole Eternity mine?
[tr. Robertson (1862)]
§ 94. But why could not each individual man Have been existent on this earth more than once? § 95. Is this hypothesis therefore so absurd because it is the oldest, because the human understanding, ere enfeebled and scattered by sophistry, immediately hit upon it? § 98. Why may I not return as often as I am fit to acquire new knowledge, new skill? Do I bring away so much at once that there is not wherewith to recompense the burden of return? § 100. Or is it because too much time would thus for me be lost? Lost? And what have I to lose? Is not mine a whole eternity?
[tr. Haney (1908)]
I have seen descriptions of Paradise sufficient to make all sensible people give up their hopes of it: some make the happy shades play incessantly on the flute; others condemn them to the torture of an everlasting promenade; while others, who represent them as dreaming on high of their mistresses below, are of opinion that a period of a hundred millions years is not sufficient to overcome a taste for the pains of love.
[J’ai vu des descriptions du paradis, capables d’y faire renoncer tous les gens de bon sens: les uns font jouer sans cesse de la flûte ces ombres heureuses; d’autres les condamnent au supplice de se promener éternellement; d’autres enfin, qui les font rêver là-haut aux maîtresses d’ici-bas, n’ont pas cru que cent millions d’années fussent un terme assez long pour leur ôter le goût de ces inquiétudes amoureuses.]
Charles-Lewis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755) French political philosopher Persian Letters [Lettres Persanes], Letter 126, Rica to *** (1721) [tr. Davidson (1891)]
(Source)
I have seen descriptions of paradise capable of disgusting all men of right understanding: some represent the happy shades incessantly playing on the flute: others condemn them to the punishment of eternally walking about: others again will have those above to be always musing on their mistresses here below, not thinking a hundred millions of years term long enough to make them lose the relish of these amorous inquietudes.
[tr. Ozell (1760 ed.), # 123]
I have read descriptions of Paradise, capable of disgusting every sensible person. The happy shades, according to the fancy of some, are continually playing on the flute, others condemn them to the punishment of eternally walking about; others in short make those above to be always raving after their mistresses here below, not thinking a hundred millions of years long enough to make them get quit of their amorous inquietudes.
[tr. Floyd (1762), # 125]
I have read descriptions of Paradise that would lead all sensible people to renounce it at once: some persons would have the happy shades play eternally on the flute; others condemn them to the torture of a never ending promenade; others who make them dream in heaven of their mistresses on earth, have expressed their belief that even a hundred millions of years would not be long enough to take from them the zest for amatory excitements.
[tr. Betts (1897), # 125]
I have seen descriptions of paradise that would have made any sensible person reject it. Some would have the joyous shades play incessantly upon the flute; others would condemn them to the torture of an eternal promenade; others, who would have them dream on high of their mistresses down below, have assumed that even in a hundred million years they will not lose their taste for such uneasy affairs.
[tr. Healy (1964), # 125]
I have seen descriptions of paradise that would make any man of sense avid going there. Some say the happy spirits in the afterlife engage in an endless bout of flute playing; others that it is an interminable walking about. Others depict them as endlessly dreaming about their mistresses down here, apparently thinking that a hundred million years is too short a time for us to lose our taste for these amorous adventures.
[tr. MacKenzie (2014)]
Distrust, and darkness, of a future state,
Make poor Mankind so fearful of their Fate.
Death, in itself, is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.
John Dryden (1631-1700) English poet, dramatist, critic Aureng-zebe, Act 4, sc. 1 (1675)
(Source)
If, as certain small-minded philosophers believe, I shall feel nothing at all after death, then at least I don’t have to worry that they will be there to mock me after they die!
[Sin mortuus, ut quidam minuti philosophi censent, nihil sentiam, non vereor ne hunc errorem meum philosophi mortui irrideant.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 23 / sec. 85 (23.85) (44 BC) [tr. Freeman (2016)]
(Source)
Critiquing the Epicurians, who would disagree with his belief in an immortal soul.
For if aftir this presente life I be dede as wele in soule as in body as that some yong and smale philosophers of whiche men name Epycures that affermyn, Certayne it is that I shall feele nothyng. And also I am not afferde that suche philosophers so ded mockyn me nor of this myne oppinion. Aftir whiche I verily beleve that the soules be undedly.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]
And if it were not so, that after death I should feel nothing nor have any sense at all (as certain perrifoggers and bastard philosophers hold opinino) I fear not a whit least these lip-labourers and ideitical philosophers, when they themselves be dead, should scoff and make a mocking-stock at this mine assertion and belief, because they themselves shall also be without sense, and like to brute beasts.
[tr. Newton (1569)]
But if when I am dead (as some small Philosophers say) I shall feel nothing, I fear not least the dead Philosophers should laugh at this my error.
[tr. Austin (1648)]
If those who this Opinion have despis'd,
And their whole life to pleasure sacrific'd;
Should feel their error, they when undeceiv'd,
Too late will wish, that me they had believ'd.
[tr. Denham (1669)]
But if after this Life I shall no longer be sensible, as some little Philosophers imagine, then am I in no Fear that dead Philosophers will laugh at my mistaken Opinion.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]
And if, when dead, I should (as some minute Philosophers imagine) be deprived of all further Sense, I am safe at least in this, that those Blades themselves will have no Opportunity beyond the Grave to laugh at me for my Opinion.
[tr. Logan (1744)]
I have the satisfaction in the meantime to be assured that if death should utterly extinguish my existence, as some minute philosophers assert, the groundless hope I entertained of an after-life in some better state cannot expose me to the derision of these wonderful sages, when they and I shall be no more.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]
But if (as certain super-subtle philosophers conclude) I shall feel nothing, I am not afraid lest these philosophers, when dead, should ridicule this error of mine.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]
But if I, when dead, shall have no consciousness, as some narrow-minded philosophers imagine, I do not fear lest dead philosophers should ridicule this my delusion.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]
While if in death, as some paltry philosophers think, I shall have no consciousness, the dead philosophers cannot ridicule this delusion of mine.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]
But if when dead, as some insignificant philosophers think, I am to be without sensation, I am not afraid of dead philosophers deriding my errors.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
But if when dead;
As some philosophers of little note
Believe, I feel no more, there is no fear
These dead philosophers should mock me there.
[tr. Allison (1916)]
But if when dead I am going to be without sensation (as some petty philosophers think), then I have no fear that these seers, when they are dead, will have the laugh on me!
[tr. Falconer (1923)]
True, certain insignificant philosophers hold that I shall feel nothing after death. If so, then at least I need not fear that after their own deaths they will be able to mock my conviction!
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
If on the other hand, as certain petty philosophers have held, I shall have no sensation when I am dead, then I need have no fear that deceased philosophers will make fun of this delusion of mine.
[tr. Copley (1967)]
Some second-rate philosophers suggest that when I am dead I will be conscious of nothing. But all that means is that, if I’m wrong, they won't be able to make fun of me after their death.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]
But anyway, if when I die my spirit also dies, I certainly won't give a flip about the opinions of dead philosophers.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]
If when I am dead I’ll have no sensation,
As some small philosophers think, I won’t fear
Accents of derision from their graves to hear.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
To suffer torments both of heat and chill, the Utmost Power gives bodies, fit for that, not wishing how it does to be revealed.
It’s madness if we hope that rational minds should ever follow to its end the road that one true being in three persons takes.
Content yourselves with quia, human kind. Had you been able to see everything, Mary need not have laboured to give birth.
[A sofferir tormenti, caldi e geli simili corpi la Virtù dispone che, come fa, non vuol ch’a noi si sveli.
Matto è chi spera che nostra ragione possa trascorrer la infinita via che tiene una sustanza in tre persone.
State contenti, umana gente, al quia; ché, se potuto aveste veder tutto, mestier non era parturir Maria.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 3, l. 31ff (3.31-39) (1314) [tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
(Source)
Virgil chides Dante to stop trying to figure out the biology, let alone divine purpose, of the Afterlife, and just accept the what(quia), the existence of it, rather than the how or why, which are as incomprehensible as the Trinity; if human reason could suffice to understand God, there would have been no reason for Jesus to have been born to save humanity.
Why these sky-woven forms, that seem to fly
All mortal sense, can suffer and enjoy Heav'n's bliss, and all th' extremes of fire and frost,
That Power that so decrees, can best explain:
Created plummet sounds that depth in vain. In that, as in the Trinal Union, lost.
Too anxious mortals! learn to be resign'd;
Could the deep secrets of th' Almighty Mind Be seen, nor Sin nor Savior had been known.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 7-8]
To endure
Torments of heat and cold extreme, like frames
That virtue hath dispos’d, which how it works
Wills not to us should be reveal’d. Insane
Who hopes, our reason may that space explore,
Which holds three persons in one substance knit.
Seek not the wherefore, race of human kind;
Could ye have seen the whole, no need had been
For Mary to bring forth.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
To suffer torments, both the cold and hot, Bodies alike in form has he annealed -- The how he wishes not to use revealed.
Foolish! who think our reason can unveil, Or hope to pass the infinital way To find three persons one Substantiality:
Remain content without the manner how. Could you have seen at once the whole of worth, Why was it meet Maria should bring forth?
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat, Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills That how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason Can traverse the illimitable way, Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!
Mortals, remain contented at the Quia; For if ye had been able to see all, No need there were for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
To suffer torments both of heat and cold that Power ordains such bodies, which will not that the manner of its working be revealed to us. Mad is he who hopes that our reason can travel over the boundless way, which one Substance in three Persons holds. Remain content, race of mankind, at the quia, for if you could have seen all no need was there that Mary should bring forth.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
To suffer torments, heat, and cold, is given To bodies like to this, by high decree, The how 'tis done by man cannot be riven.
He's mad who thinks our human reason free Along the infinite career to run, Of God, the substance one in Persons three.
Be ye content, O man, the Why unknown: Had ye been able to behold the whole, No need had Mary to bring forth her son.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
To suffer torments, both hot and cold, bodies like this the Power ordains, which wills not that how it acts be revealed to us. Mad is he who hopes that our reason can traverse the infinite way which One Substance in Three Persons holds. Be content, human race, with the quia; for if ye had been able to see everything, need had not been for Mary to bear child.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
To suffer torments, heat and frost, bodies such as these that power disposes, which will not that its workings be revealed to us. Mad is he who hopes that our reason may compass that infinitude which one substance in three persons fills. Be ye content, O human race, with the quia! For if ye had been able to see the whole, no need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Okey (1901)]
The Power fits such bodies as these to suffer torments of heat and frost which wills not that the way of its working should be revealed to us. Foolish is he who hopes that our reason can trace the infinite ways taken by one Substance in three Persons. Rest content, race of men, with the quia; for if you had been able to see all there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
That power disposes bodies like to mine In torments both of heat and frost to weep Which wills not that its working we divine.
He is mad who hopes that reason in its sweep The infinite way can traverse back and forth Which the Three Persons in one substance keep.
With the quia stay content, children of earth! For if the whole before your eyes had lain, No need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Bodies like mine, to bear pain, cold and heat, That power ordains, whose will forever spreads A veil between its working and our wit.
Madness! that reason lodged in human heads should hope to traverse backward and unweave The infinite path Three-personed Substance treads.
Content you with the quia, sons of Eve, For had you power to see the whole truth plain No need had been for Mary to conceive.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]
We react
within these bodies to pain and heat and cold according to the workings of That Will which does not will that all Its ways be told.
He is insane who dreams that he may learn by mortal reasoning the boundless orbit Three Persons in One Substance fill and turn.
Be satisfied with the quia of cause unknown, O humankind! for could you have seen All, Mary need not have suffered to bear a son.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]
To suffer torments, heat, and frost, bodies such as these that Power ordains, which wills not that the way of its working be revealed to us. Foolish is he who hopes that our reason may compass the infinite course taken by One Substance in Three Persons. Be content, human race, with the quia; for if you had been able to see everything, no need was there for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]
Yet bodies such as ours are sensitive to pain and cold and heat -- willed by that Power which wills its secret not to be revealed;
madness it is to hope that human minds can ever understand the Infinite that comprehends Three Persons in One Being.
Be staisfied with quia unexplained, O human race! If you knew everything, no need for Mary to have borne a son.
[tr. Musa (1981)]
v
Omnipotence disposes bodies like mine To suffer torments both from heat and cold, And how it does so, does not see fit to reveal.
Only a madman would expect our reason To follow all that infinite approach And understand one substance in three persons.
The human race should be content with the quia: For if it had been able to see everything, No need for Mary to have had a child.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The Power has disposed such bodiless bodies to suffer torments, heat and cold: how this is done, He would not have us know.
Foolish is he who hopes our intellect can reach the end of that unending road only one Substance in three Persons follows.
Confine yourselves, o humans, to the quia; had you been able to see all, there would have been no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]
Such bodies are disposed to suffer torments, heat, and freezings by the Power that does not wish its ways to be unveiled to us. He is mad who hopes that our reason can traverse the infinite way taken by one Substance in three Persons. Be content, human people, with the quia; for if you had been able to see everything, there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Durling (2003)]
That power, that does not will that its workings should be revealed to us, disposes bodies such as these to suffer torments, fire and ice. He is foolish who hopes that our reason may journey on the infinite road, that one substance in three persons owns. Stay, content, human race, with the ‘what’: since if you had been able to understand it all, there would have been no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
The Power that fits bodies like ours to suffer torments, heat, and cold does not reveal the secret of its working.
Foolish is he who hopes that with our reason we can trace the infinite path taken by one Substance in three Persons.
Be content, then, all you mortals, with the quia, for could you, on your own, have understood, there was no need for Mary to give birth.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
These bodies were made by God, they endure troubles, And heat, and frost -- but we are not informed How this is accomplished; He does not want us to know.
You have to be mad, hoping that human reason Can ever unravel the infinite things He does, Three Persons simultaneously only One.
Be satisfied, O humans, with Reality, For had you ever been able to see and know It all, why bother with God in Mary's womb?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
But if I err in this Opinion, that the Soul of Man is immortal, sure it is a pleasing Error, so pleasing that I can never shake it off while I live.
[Quod si in hoc erro, qui animos hominum immortalis esse credam, libenter erro nec mihi hunc errorem, quo delector, dum vivo, extorqueri volo.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 23 / sec. 85 (23.85) (44 BC) [tr. J. D. (1744)]
(Source)
But if it be in erroure and oute of trouthe aftir the doctryne and scole of Epycures by cause that I beleve that the soules be undedly and Immortelle perdurable and evirlastyng I answere you that this errour pleasith me and I consente me in it right gladly and as long tyme as I lyve I wille not that any philosopher nor any othir of what condicyon that evir he be take awey fro me this erroure wherin I delyte me.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]
And if I do err because I think that the souls of men be immortal, verily I am well contented in the same error still to continue, and as long as I live I will never renounce nor recant the same, wherein I take such singular pleasure and comfort.
[tr. Newton (1569)]
But if I do erre that the soules of men bee immortall, I do err willingly, neither will I while I live be wrested from mine opinion wherein I am delighted.
[tr. Austin (1648), ch. 24]
My hope's, if this assurance hath deceiv'd,
(That I Man's Soul Immortal have believ'd)
And if I erre, no Pow'r shall dispossess
My thoughts of that expected happiness.
[tr. Denham (1669), Part 4]
But if I should be mistaken in this Belief, that our Souls are immortal, I am however pleased and happy in my Mistake; nor while I live, shall it ever be in the Power of Man, to beat me out of an Opinion, that yields me so solid a Comfort, and so durable a Satisfaction.
[tr. Logan (1744)]
And after all should this my firm persuasion of the soul's immortality prove to be a mere delusion, it is at least a pleasing delusion, and I will cherish it to my latest breath.
[tr. Melmoth (1773)]
But if I err in this, that I believe the soules of men to be immortal, I err willingly, nor do I wish this error to be wrested from me while I live.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]
And if I am wrong in this, that I believe the souls of men to be immortal, I willingly delude myself : nor do I desire that this mistake, in which I take pleasure, should be wrested from me as long as I live.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]
But if I err in believing that the souls of men are immortal, I am glad thus to err, nor am I willing that this error in which I delight shall be wrested from me so long as I live.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]
But if I am wrong in thinking the human soul immortal, I am glad to be wrong; nor will I allow the mistake which gives me so much pleasure to be wrested from me as long as I live.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
But if in thinking souls immortal thus,
I am in error, I confess to you,
It is an error that I glory in,
And being so pleasant, I would not desire
To lose it while I live.
[tr. Allison (1916)]
And if I err in my belief that the souls of men are immortal, I gladly err, nor do I wish this error which gives me pleasure to be wrested from me while I live.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]
Even if I am mistaken in my belief that the soul is immortal, I make the mistake gladly, for the belief makes me happy, and is one which as long as I live I want to retain.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
And if I am deluded in believing that the soul of man is immortal, then I am glad to be deluded, and I hope no one, as long as I live, will ever wrench this delusion from me.
[tr. Copley (1967)]
But if I am mistaken in this belief of mine that the souls of men are immortal, then I am happy to be mistaken; but as long as I am still alive, I have no wish to be disabused of my mistake.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]
I may be wrong in my belief in the immorality of the spirit: there are philosophers who think I am. I like my faith and I don't want to lose it.
[tr. Gerberding (2014)]
And if it is an error of mine to imply
That man is endowed with immortal soul,
I err with pleasure and promptly console
Myself as long as I am alive and spry.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
And if I’m wrong in my belief that souls are immortal, then gladly do I err, for this belief, which I hope to maintain as long as I live, makes me happy.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]
In short, I consider this world as a place which nature never designed for my permanent abode, and I look upon my departure out of it, not as being driven away from my habitation, but as leaving my inn.
[Et ex vita ita discedo tamquam ex hospitio, non tamquam e domo; commorandi enim natura devorsorium nobis, non habitandi dedit.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Senectute [Cato Maior; On Old Age], ch. 23 / sec. 84 (23.84) (44 BC) [tr. Melmoth (1773)]
(Source)
I departe me from this presente life as a walkyng weyfaryng man or as a voyagieng pilgryme departith from some lodgyng place or an hostellrye for to come to his owne dwellyng house. But I departe me not from this life as the lorde departeth from his owne house for this passable life is nowght ellys but as a lodgyng place or an hostellrye.
[tr. Worcester/Worcester/Scrope (1481)]
And I depart out of this life as out of an inn, and not out of a dwellinghouse. For nature hath given to us a lodging to remain and sojourn in for a time, and not to dwell in continually.
[tr. Newton (1569)]
And I depart out of this life, as from an Inne, not as from a continuall habitation; for nature hath given us a place to rest in, not to dwell in.
[tr. Austin (1648)]
Hence from an Inne, not from my home, I pass,
Since Nature meant us here no dwelling place.
[tr. Denham (1669)]
I have not frustrated the End of Nature, and am disposed to leave this life, with as much Indifference, as an Inn upon the Road; for Nature here intends us a Lodging only, not a Fixed Home or Settled Place of Habitation.
[tr. Hemming (1716)]
And now I go from this Life as from an Inn; for Nature hath given it us as a Place to rest in, but not for a continual Habitation.
[tr. J. D. (1744)]
And when the Close comes, I shall quit Life as I would an Inn, and not as a real Home. For Nature appears to me to have ordain'd this Station here for us, as a Place of Sojournment, a transitory Abode only, and not as a fixt Settlement or permanent Habitation.
[tr. Logan (1744)]
I depart out of life just as out of an inn, and not as out of my home. For Nature has given us an hotel to sojourn in, not a place to dwell in.
[Cornish Bros. ed. (1847)]
And from this life I depart as from a temporary lodging, not as from a home. For nature has assigned it to us as an inn to sojourn in, not a place of habitation.
[tr. Edmonds (1874)]
Yet I depart from life, as from an inn, not as from a home; for nature has given us here a lodging for a sojourn, not a place of habitation.
[tr. Peabody (1884)]
But I quit life as I would an inn, not as I would a home. For nature has given us a place of entertainment, not of residence.
[tr. Shuckburgh (1895)]
I now depart
As from a lodging; house, and not a home.
Nature has made this world a place in which
One stays a little, does not dwell for aye.
[tr. Allison (1916)]
And I quit life as if it were an inn, not a home. For Nature has given us an hostelry in which to sojourn, not to abide.
[tr. Falconer (1923)]
But what nature gives us is a place to dwell in temporarily, not one to make our own. When I leave life, therefore, I shall feel as if I am leaving a hostel rather than a home.
[tr. Grant (1960, 1971 ed.)]
And I am departing from life as from a temporary lodging, not as from a home. Yes, nature has given a spot where we may turn aside for a time, not a place of permanent residence.
[tr. Copley (1967)]
But I do feel as though I am leaving an inn, not my home. Nature has given us a place to stay for a while, but not for ever.
[tr. Cobbold (2012)]
I leave this life as I would leave
An inn and not a home. Nature
Gave us in fact a temporary hotel,
Not a permanent place in which to dwell.
[tr. Bozzi (2015)]
I depart from life as if from an inn, not a house. Nature gives us our bodies to abide in only for a time as guests, not to make our home.
[tr. Freeman (2016)]
And I am leaving life as if from an inn, not a home. For nature has given us a way-station for a brief delay, not to permanently reside.
[tr. @sentantiq (2018)]
If you look for rest in this life, how will you attain to everlasting rest? Dispose yourself, then, not for much rest but for great patience.
[Si quæris in hac vita requiem: quomodo tunc pervenies ad æternam requiem? Non ponas te ad multam requiem, sed a magnam patientiam.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 3, ch. 35, v. 3 (3.35.2) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]
(Source)
If thou seek rest in this life, how then shalt thou come to the rest everlasting? Set not thyself to have rest here, but to have patience.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]
If you seek rest in this life, how will you, then, come to everlasting rest? Do not determine to have rest here, but to have patience.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]
If thou seekest rest in this world, how wilt thou then attain to everlasting rest? Give not thy selfe to much ease, but to much patience.
[tr. Page (1639), 3.35.6]
If then these are the Conditions of thy Obedience and Reward, think how absurd it, for them who indulge their Ease here, to expect Peace and Happiness hereafter. In one of the two States Enduring must be thy Lot; and therefore tough Patience, and not soft Repose, is what thou should'st labour for at present.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.), 3.40]
If thou seekest rest in this life, how wilt thou attain to the everlasting rest of the life to come? Thou must prepare thy heart for the exercise of many and great troubles, not for the enjoyment of continual rest.
[tr. Payne (1803), 3.27.8]
If thou seek rest in this life, how wilt thou then attain to the everlasting Rest? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for great patience.
[ed. Parker (1841)]
It thou seekest rest in this life, how wilt thou attain to the everlasting rest of the life to come? Thou must not merely rest, but prepare thy heart for far greater patience and resignation.
[tr. Dibdin (1851), 3.31.2]
If thou seekest rest in this life, how then wilt thou come to the rest everlasting? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for much patience.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]
If thou seek rest in this life, how then wilt thou attain unto the rest which is eternal? Set not thyself to attain much rest, but much patience.
[tr. Benham (1874)]
If thou seek rest in this life, how wilt thou then attain to the everlasting rest? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for great patience.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]
If you search after rest in this life, how then will you come through to an everlasting rest? Do not set out for much in the way of rest, but for suffering that costs.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]
If you look for rest in this life, how can you attain eternal rest? Dispose yourself not to rest, but to patient endurance.
[tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
If you try to find rest in this world, how will you ever reach that rest which is life everlasting? It is not long hours of rest you must be prepared for here, but for long hours of patient endurance.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]
If you are looking for rest in this life, how will you ever reach the everlasting rest at the end? It is not rest you must expect, but suffering.
[tr. Knott (1962)]
You may seek rest in this life. How then will you gain rest in everlasting life? Do not expect great rest. Expect much suffering instead.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]
If you seek rest in this life, how do you expect to come to eternal rest? Do not make frequent rest your goal but great patience.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
Gustave Dore – Inferno 4.42 – The virtuous pagans (1890)
Down there, to judge only by what I heard, there were no wails but just the sounds of sighs rising and trembling through the timeless air,
The sounds of sighs of untormented grief burdening these groups, diverse and teeming, made of men and women and of infants.
Then the good master said, “You do not ask what sort of souls are these you see around you. Now you should know before we go on farther,
they have not sinned. But their great worth alone was not enough, for they did not know Baptism which is the gateway to the faith you follow,
and if they came before the birth of Christ They did not worship God the way one should; I myself am a member of this group.
For this defect, and for no other guilt, we here are lost. In this alone we suffer: cut off from hope, we live on in desire.”
[Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare, non avea pianto mai che di sospiri che l’aura etterna facevan tremare;
ciò avvenia di duol sanza martìri, ch’avean le turbe, ch’eran molte e grandi, d’infanti e di femmine e di viri.
Lo buon maestro a me: “Tu non dimandi che spiriti son questi che tu vedi? Or vo’ che sappi, innanzi che più andi,
ch’ei non peccaro; e s’elli hanno mercedi, non basta, perché non ebber battesmo, ch’è porta de la fede che tu credi;
e s’e’ furon dinanzi al cristianesmo, non adorar debitamente a Dio: e di questi cotai son io medesmo.
Per tai difetti, non per altro rio, semo perduti, e sol di tanto offesi che sanza speme vivemo in disio”.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 4, l. 25ff (4.25-42) (1309) [tr. Musa (1971)]
(Source)
In the First Circle of Hell, Dante encounters the "virtuous pagans," without sin but who cannot go to heaven because they were not baptized (such as children), or because they were born before Christ and therefore could not be saved by faith. They are not physically punished, but languish in an otherwise-pleasant Limbo, longing to be united with God. (Dante did not invent Limbo, but popularized it.)
(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
Loud Lamentations were not heard from thence,
But heavy Sighs which trembled through the air:
From th' anguish these of Mind, not Body, came
Of many Infants, Women, and of Men.
You do not ask me, my kind Master said,
What are these Spirits in this place you see;
This you should know before we farther pass.
These have not sinn'd; and 'though they had reward
Deserved for their meritorious acts,
'Twould not avail, since they were ne'er baptiz'd;
For this in your Belief's the Gate of Faith.
They who have lived before Christ appear'd
Have not with proper Prayers ador'd their God.
And I myself, alas! am one of those.
For these defects, and not for any crime,
We're lost; and, without other punishment,
We live desiring, yet depriv'd of hope.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 35ff]
Now thro' the void and viewless shadows drear,
Short sighs, thick-coming, led the list'ning ear, Trembling in murmurs low along the gale:
No pang is here, no tort'ring hour is known,
Their irrecoverable loss alone Matrons, and fires, and tender babes bewail.
"And can the mournful train that here abide
Unnotic'd pass thee by?" the Poet cry'd, "These were of the race renown'd of ancient time:
Unknown a Saviour, unador'd a God,
Their blind presumptuous course in reason's road They still pursu'd, unconscious of a crime.
No bleeding ransom of their sins they knew
Nor from the fount regeneration drew The sacred symbol of eternal joy!
In ceaseless languors now forlorn they dwell,
Not heirs of Heav'n, nor denizens of Hell, And of their sad society am I!"
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5-7]
Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief
Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, Of men, women, and infants. Then to me The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits
Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin Were blameless; and if aught they merited,
It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, The portal to thy faith. If they before The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright;
And among such am I. For these defects, And for no other evil, we are lost; Only so far afflicted, that we live
Desiring without hope.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Here never aught of louder plaint or moan Disturbed the listener's hearing; but the air Trembled eternally with sighs alone.
The cause, a grief where torment hath no share, Endured of crowded hostings not a few, Men, women, infants, all assembled there.
And thus the good preceptor -- "Canst thou view So vast a throng, nor ask of whom the spirits? I will thou learn, ere we our path pursue.
These were not sinners; yet, whatever their merits. Suffice not them, wanting baptismal rite. That each partaker of thy faith inherits.
And if they rose before the Christian light. Duly they honoured not their Maker's name; But what these are, am I: our fates unite.
For such default, and not for deeper blame, Heaven have we lost; yet this our only smart. Our hope is not, our longing still the same."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Here was no plaint, that could be heard, except of sighs, which caused the eternal air to tremble; And this arose from the sadness, without torment, of the crowds that were many and great, both of children, and women and men. The good Master said to me: "Thou askest not what spirits are these thou seest? I wish thee to know, before thou goest further, that they sinned not; and though they have merit, it suffices not: for they had not Baptism, which is the portal of the faith that thou believest; and seeing they were before Christianity, they worshipped not God aright; and of these am I myself. For such defects, and for no other fault, are we lost; and only in so far afflicted, that without hope we live in desire."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Here was no sound, to any listener's ear, Of loud complaint, but frequent sighs of care, Which made to tremble the eternal air.
It happened thus, from grief of torments void, Possessing crowds beyond our sight and ken Of infants, and of women, and of men.
The good master said, "You do not ask me What are these spirits which you now descry -- Wouldst thou discover, ere we yet draw nigh?
These have not sinn'd, though merit they should have -- 'Tis not enough, for baptism they have none, A portion of the faith you also own:
They lived ere Christianity began; The God of heaven adored not as they ought. And of these here, I'm also in the fault
For these defects; for other evil none Are lost, -- afflicted only thus so far: Live in desire, but want hope's brightening star."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
There as I listen'd I could hear no sound Of plaint or moan, but rather that of sighs Which tremulous did stir th' eternal air;
This came not from the martyrdom of pain But from the dole of those, many and great, Of children, and of women, and of men.
My kindly master said -- "Thou askest not Who be these spirits which thou seest now? Yet here we further go, be to thee known
They sinned not; yet no merit claim'd by them Availeth aught, because they never knew The Grace Baptismal, portal of they creed:
And if they liv'd before the day of Grace They could not in right spirit worship God: And of that number I myself am one.
For this default and for no other guilt We are lost souls; afflicted only thus, That ever hopeless we must still desire."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
There, in so far as I had power to hear, Were lamentations none, but only sighs, That tremulous made the everlasting air.
And this arose from sorrow without torment, Which the crowds had, that many were and great, Of infants and of women and of men.
To me the Master good: "Thou dost not ask What spirits these, which thou beholdest, are? Now will I have thee know, ere thou go farther,
That they sinned not; and if they merit had, 'T is not enough, because they had not baptism,
Which is the portal of the Faith thou holdest;
And if they were before Christianity, In the right manner they adored not God; And among such as these am I myself.
For such defects, and not for other guilt, Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Here, so far as listening went, lamentation was not, save of sighs which made the everlasting mist tremble. And this befel of woe without torments which the crowds had, that were many and great, both of infants and of women and of men. The good Master to me: 'Thou demandest not what spirits these are whom thou seest ? Now will I that thou know ere thou go further, that they did not sin; and if they have deserts, it suffices not; because they had not baptism, which is a part of the faith which thou believest. And if they were before Christianity, they adored not God duly; and of this sort am I myself. For such defects, not for other crime, we are lost; and we are harmed only in so far as we live without hope in longing.'
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Here, in as far as hearing is aware, Was no loud weeping, but a sound of sighs. Which ever trembled in the eternal air,
And these from sorrow without torments rise, Sorrow that holds the crowds both many and great, Men, women, children, of all age and size.
Turned my good master to me: "Dost thou wait To ask what souls are these thou seest here? I will that thou shouldst know at once their state.
These have not sinned, and if their acts were fair, 'Twas not sufficient, since they baptism lacked, The gateway of the Faith which thou dost share.
And if they lived ere Christ's law was a fact. They did not in fit fashion God adore; And I myself amongst these last am wreckt.
For such deficiencies, and nothing more, Our penalty is fixed, the lost among, To yearn for ever on this hopeless shore.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Here, so far as could be heard, there was no plaint but that of sighs which made the eternal air to tremble: this came of the woe without torments felt by the crowds, which were many and great, of infants and of women and of men. The good Master to me, “Thou dost not ask what spirits are these that thou seest. Now I would have thee know, before thou goest farther, that they sinned not; and if they have merits it sufficeth not, because they had not baptism, which is part of the faith that thou believest; and if they were before Christianity, they did not duly worship God: and of such as these am I myself. Through such defects, and not through other guilt, are we lost, and only so far harmed that without hope we live in desire.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Here, so far as I could tell by listening, there was no wailing, but sighs only, making the air to tremble without ceasing; and this arose from the misery, albeit uncaused by torture, which the crowds felt, and they were many and great; babes and women and men. My gentle Master said to me: "Thou dost not ask what shades are these thou seest. I now would have thee know, or ever thou goest farther, that they have not sinned; and though they have good works to their account, it sufficeth not, for they knew not baptism, which is the gateway of the faith the which thou dost believe. And as they were before Christ's coming, they failed to worship God aright ; and of their number am I myself. For shortcomings such as these, and for no other fault, are we lost: and this our only punishment, that without hope we live in yearning.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Therein, so far as listening was of service, There was no lamentation, save of sighing, That made the eternal weight of air to quiver.
This came to pass from sorrow without torments. That the crowds had, which were both great and many. Of little children, and of men, and women.
To me the master kind: "Dost thou not ask me What spirits these are here, whom thou beholdest? Now I would have thee know, ere thou go further,
That they sinned not: and yet that they have merits Sufficeth not, because they had not baptism. Which is a portion of the faith thou holdest:
And, if they were before the Christian advent, They did not render unto God due worship. And I of such as these myself am also.
For such defects, and not for other forfeit, Are we among the lost, and only troubled At this, that without hope we live in longing.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Here, so far as I could tell by listening, was no lamentation more than sighs which kept the air forever trembling; these came from grief without torments that was borne by the crowds, which were vast, of men and women and little children. The good Master said to me: "Does thou not ask what spirits are these thou seest? I would have the know, then, before thou goest farther, that they did not sin; but though they have merits it is not enough, for they had not baptism, which is the gateway of the faith thou holdest; and if they were here before Christianity they did not worship God aright, and of these I am one. For such defects, and not for any guilt, we are lost, and only so far afflicted that without hope we live in desire."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Here was no sound that the ear could catch of rue, Save only of sighs, that still as they complain Make the eternal air tremble anew.
And this rose form the sorrow, unracked by pain, That was in the great multitude below Of children and of women and of men.
The good Master to me: "Wouldst thou not know 'What spirits are these thou seest and hearest grieve? I'd have thee learn before thou farther go,
These sinned not: but the merit that they achieve Helps not, since baptism was not theirs, the gate Of that faith, which was given thee to believe.
And if ere Christ they came, untimely in date, They worshipped not with right experience; And I myself am numbered in their state.
For such defect, and for no other offence, We are lost, and only in so far amerced That without hope we languish in suspense."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
We heard no loud complaint, no crying there, No sound of grief except the sound of sighing Quivering for ever through the eternal air;
Grief, not for torment, but for loss undying, By women, men, and children sighed for so, Sorrowers thick-thronged, their sorrows multiplying.
Then my good guide: "Thou dost not ask me who These spirits are,” said he, “whom thou perceivest? Ere going further, I would have thee know
They sinned not; yet their merit lacked its chiefest Fulfilment, lacking baptism, which is The gateway to the faith which thou believest;
Or, living before Christendom, their knees Paid not aright those tributes that belong To God; and I myself am one of these.
For such defects alone -- no other wrong -- We are lost; yet only by this grief offended: That, without hope, we ever live, and long.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
No tortured wailing rose to greet us here but sounds of sighing rose from every side, sending a tremor through the timeless air,
a grief breathed out of untormented sadness, the passive state of those who dwelled apart, men, women, children -- a dim and endless congress.
And the Master said to me: "You do not question what souls these are that suffer here before you? I wish you to know before you travel on
that these were sinless. And still their merits fail, for they lacked Baptism's grace, which is the door of the true faith you were born to. Their birth fell
before the age of the Christian mysteries, and so they did not worship God's Trinity in fullest duty. I am one of these.
For such defects are we lost, though spared the fire and suffering Hell in one affliction only: that without hope we live on in desire."
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Here there was no plaint, that could be heard, except of sighs, which caused the eternal air to tremble; and this arose from the sadness, without torments, of the crowds that were many and great, both of children and of women and men. The good master said to me, “Do you not ask what spirits are these that you see ? Now, before you go farther, I will have you know that they did not sin; but if they have merit, that does not suffice, for they did not have baptism, which is the portal of the faith you hold; and if they were before Christianity, they did not worship God aright, and I myself am one of these. Because of these shortcomings, and for no other fault, we are lost, and only so far afflicted that without hope we live in longing.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Here, for as much as hearing could discover, there was no outcry louder than the sighs that caused the everlasting air to tremble.
The sighs arose from sorrow without torments, out of the crowds -- the many multitudes -- of infants and of women and of men.
The kindly master said: “Do you not ask who are these spirits whom you see before you? I'd have you know, before you go ahead,
they did not sin; and yet, though they have merits, that’s not enough, because they lacked baptism, the portal of the faith that you embrace.
And if they lived before Christianity, they did not worship God in fitting ways; and of such spirits I myself am one.
For these defects, and for no other evil, we now are lost and punished just with this: we have no hope and yet we live in longing.”
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
There, in so far as listening could tell me, The only lamentations were the sighs, Yet they made the eternal air tremble.
They came from the sadness, without any torment, Felt by the crowds -- there were many of them, and huge -- Of infants and of men and of men.
The master said: "Are you not going to ask What sprits these are which you see in this place? I think you should know before you go on;
They have committed no sin, and if they have merits, That is not enough, because they are not baptized, Which all must be, to enter the faith which is yours.
And if they lived before the Christian era, They did not adore God as he should be adored: And I am one of those in that position.
For these deficiencies, and no other fault, We are lost; there is no other penalty Than to live here without hope, but with desire."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Here we encountered
No laments that we could hear -- except for sighs
That trembled the timeless air: they emanated
From the shadowy sadnesses, not agonies,
Of multitudes of children and women and men.
He said, "And don't you ask, what spirits are these?
Before you go on, I tell you: they did not sin:
If they have merit, it can't suffice without
Baptism, portal to the faith you maintain.
Some lived before the Christian faith, so that
They did not worship God aright -- and I
Am one of these. Through this, no other fault,
We are lost, afflicted only this one way:
That having no hope, we live in longing."
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 19ff]
Here, as far as could be heard, there was no weeping except of sighs which caused the eternal air to tremble; these resulted from grief without torture, felt by the crowds, which were many and large, of infants and of women and of men. My good master to me: “You do not ask what spirits are these you see? Now I wish you to know, before you walk further, that they did not sin; and if they have merits, it is not enough, because they did not receive baptism, which is the gateway to the faith that you believe. And if they lived before Christianity, they did not adore God as was needful: and of this kind am I myself. Because of such defects, not for any other wickedness, we are lost, and only so far harmed that without hope we live in desire.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Here there was no sound to be heard, except the sighing, that made the eternal air tremble, and it came from the sorrow of the vast and varied crowds of children, of women, and of men, free of torment. The good Master said to me: ‘You do not demand to know who these spirits are that you see. I want you to learn, before you go further, that they had no sin, yet, though they have worth, it is not sufficient, because they were not baptised, and baptism is the gateway to the faith that you believe in. Since they lived before Christianity, they did not worship God correctly, and I myself am one of them. For this defect, and for no other fault, we are lost, and we are only tormented, in that without hope we live in desire.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Here, there was no pandemonium of tortured groans; only interminable sighs, which trembled the air with a murderous hum; and this arose
from all the sadnesses, albeit painless, of the multitude of men and women, and children of every size.
Then he to me: "Why don't you ask me who these spirits are? Before you go much further on, I'd like it to be understood that they are
innocent of sin; however, lacking Baptism, they could not claim its saving grace, and thus are doomed forever;
living, as they did, before Christ came they did not pay the Lord his due respect; and I myself am classed as one of them.
For these faults, not for any other defect, are we lost; our only pain is hopeless, unfulfilled desire. These are the facts.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Here, there was no pandemonium of tortured groans; only interminable sighs, which trembled the air with a murmurous hum; and this arose from all the sadnesses, albeit painless, of the multitude of men and women, and children of every size. Then he to me: "Why don't you ask me who these spirits are? Before you go much further on, I'd like it to be understood that they are innocent of sin; however, lacking Baptism, they could not claim its saving grace, and thus are doomed forever; living, as they did, before Christ came, they did not pay the Lord his due respect; and I myself am classed as one of them. For these faults, not for any other defect, are we lost; our only pain is hopeless, unfulfilled desire. These are the facts.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Here in the dark (where only hearing told) there were no tears, no weeping, only sighs that caused a trembling in the eternal air --
sighs drawn from sorrowing, although no pain. This weighs on all of them, those multitudes of speechless children, women and full-grown men.
'You do not ask,' my teacher in his goodness said, 'who all these spirits are that you see here? Do not, I mean, go further till you know:
these never sinned. And some attained to merit. But merit falls far short. None was baptized. None passed the gate, in your belief, to faith.
They lived before the Christian age began. They paid no reverence, as was due to God. And in this number I myself am one.
For such deficiencies, no other crime, we all are lost yet only suffer harm through living in desire, but hopelessly.'
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Here, as far as I could tell by listening, was no lamentation other than the sighs that kept the air forever trembling.
These came from grief without torment borne by vast crowds of men, and women, and little children.
My master began: 'You do not ask about the souls you see? I want you to know, before you venture farther,
they did not sin. Though they have merit, that is not enough, for they were unbaptized, denied the gateway to the faith that you profess.
And if they lived before the Christians lived, they did not worship God aright. And among these I am one.
For such defects, and for no other fault, we are lost, and afflicted but in this, that without hope we live in longing.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And here there was no weeping; the only signs Of sorrow I heard were sighs that caused a gentle Trembling, stirring eternal air, yet rising
Not from tortured pain or punishment But only because there were so many, men And women and children. My Master asked this question
Of me: "Don't you mean to inquire, again, Who and what are the spirits you see in here? I want you to know, before you take another step,
These are not sinners; no matter what they deserve
It can't be enough, for none have been baptized --
The gateway to Heaven in your faith's clearest terms.
All those born before the coming of Christ Cannot be Christians, worshipping god as He Requires, and one of many such men am I.
These imperfections, and nothing more, no crimes, Bar us from Paradise, not punished, not hurt. We have no hope, we live for our great desire.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
To the extent
That I could hear at all, all cries were sighs.
The air without end shook to the lament
Not just of men and women: with surprise
I saw young children too. Why were they sent?
I thought, and once again my Master saw
Into my mind, and said: “You do not ask
Who these ones are, why here, and by what law?
I'll tell you, before we resume our task,
Of pain without a sin. But though they be
Ever so virtuous, no unbaptized
Souls are exempted from this penalty,
And if they lived before His Son, they prized
God insufficiently. And I was one
Of those. For such defects, and for no crime
More grave, we're lost: for something left undone
We're doomed to live without hope for all time.”
[tr. James (2013), l. 31ff]
Death, to a good man is but passing through a dark entry, out of one little dusky room of his Father’s house, into another that is fair and large, lightsome and glorious, and divinely entertaining.
Isaac Watts (1674-1748) English theologian and hymnodist Miscellaneous Thoughts in Prose and Verse [Reliquiæ Juveniles], ch. 32 “Earth, Heaven, and Hell” (1734)
(Source)
This phrase is often misattributed to Adam Clarke (1762-1832) (e.g., 1853, 1853, 1876, 1880, 1888) or Samuel Clarke (1727-1769) (e.g., 1827). Finding the primary source confirms Watts' authorship, though it is possible that others used the passage in sermons and writings, and the attribution was misremembered.
Somewhere — in desolate wind-swept space — In Twilight-land — in No-man’s land —
Two hurrying Shapes met face to face, And bade each other stand.
“And who are you?” cried one a-gape, Shuddering in the gloaming light.
“I know not,” said the second Shape, “I only died last night!”
Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907) American writer, poet, critic, editor
“Identity,” Poems, Part 2 “Interludes” (1885)
(Source)
Burning at first no doubt would be worse,
But time the impression would soften,
While those who are bored with praising the Lord,
Would be more bored with praising him often.
G. Lowes Dickinson (1862-1932) British political scientist and philosopher [Goldsworthy "Goldie" Lowes Dickinson]
“Burning at First”
I'm unable to find a good source of this, other than a quotation in "A Fanfare for Prometheus," a speech by Learned Hand, American Jewish Committee, New York City (1955-01-29); the speech (with poem) was entered into the Congressional Record (1955-02-09) by Sen. Herbert Lehman of New York.
Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.
[الموت جمل أسود يركع أمام جميع البواب]
(Other Authors and Sources)
Arabic saying
Also identified as a Turkish saying.
Popularized in the West in the 19th Century by Algerian religious and military leader Abdelkader ibn Muhieddine (Abdelkader El Djazairi).
It received later used in the eponymous Charlie Chan novel by Earl Derr Biggers, The Black Camel, ch. 4 (1929), where it is identified as an "old Eastern saying": "Death is the black camel that kneels unbid at every gate."
It was also used in the 1931 movie of the same name: "Death is a black camel that kneels unbidden at every gate."
Further variants:
"Death is a black camel that kneels before every man's door."
"Death is a black camel which kneels at every man's gate."
These, when a thousand rolling years are o’er,
Called by the God, to Lethe’s waves repair;
There, reft of memory, to yearn once more
For mortal bodies and the upper air.
[Has omnis, ubi mille rotam volvere per annos,
Lethaeum ad fluvium deus evocat agmine magno,
Scilicet immemores supera et convexa revisant
Bursus et incipiant in corpora velle reverti.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 748ff (6.748-751) [Anchises] (29-19 BC) [tr. Taylor (1907), st. 99, l. 883ff]
(Source)
On the reincarnation of most souls, other than those punished in Tartarus or rewarded in Elysium.
When thousand yeares have fil'd their period,
All these God calls in troups to Lethe's flood,
To th end that they forgetfull of what's past,
May reascend, and bodies take at last.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
But, when a thousand rolling years are past,
(So long their punishments and penance last,)
Whole droves of minds are, by the driving god,
Compell'd to drink the deep Lethaean flood,
In large forgetful draughts to steep the cares
Of their past labors, and their irksome years,
That, unrememb'ring of its former pain,
The soul may suffer mortal flesh again.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
All these, after they have rolled away a thousand years, are summoned forth by the god in a great body to the river Lethe; to the intent that, losing memory, they may revisit the vaulted realms above, and again become willing to return into bodies.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
All these, when centuries ten times told
The wheel of destiny have rolled,
The voice divine from far and wide
Calls up to Lethe's river-side,
That earthward they may pass once more
Remembering not the things before,
And with a blind propension yearn
To fleshly bodies to return.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
All these, when for a thousand years the wheel
Of fate has turned, the Deity calls forth
To Lethe's stream, a mighty multitude;
That they, forgetful of the past, may see
Once more the vaulted sky, and may begin
To wish return into corporeal frames.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 933ff]
All these before thee, when the wheel of a thousand years hath come fully round, a God summons in vast train to the river of Lethe, that so they may regain in forgetfulness the slopes of upper earth, and begin to desire to return again into the body.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
All these who now have turned the wheel for many and many a year
God calleth unto Lethe's flood in mighty company,
That they, remembering nought indeed, the upper air may see
Once more, and long to turn aback to worldly life anew.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
At last, when the millennial aeon strikes,
God calls them forth to yon Lethaean stream,
In numerous host, that thence, oblivious all,
They may behold once more the vaulted sky,
And willingly to shapes of flesh return.
[tr. Williams (1910), l. 747ff]
A thousand years pass over
And the god calls the countless host to Lethe
Where memory is annulled, and souls are willing
Once more to enter into mortal bodies.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
All these souls, when they have finished their thousand-year cycle,
God sends for, and they come in crowds to the river of Lethe,
So that, you see, with memory washed out, they may revisit
The earth above and begin to wish to be born again.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
But all the rest, when they have passed time's circle
for a millennium, arfe summoned by
the god to Lethe in a great assembly
that, free of memory, they may return
beneath the curve of the upper world, that they
may once again begin to wish for bodies.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 988ff]
These other souls,
When they have turned Time's wheel a thousand years,
The god calls in a crowd to Lethe stream,
There there unmemoried they may see again
The heavens and wish re-entry into bodies.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 1004ff]
All these others whom you see, when they have rolled the wheel for a thousand years, are called out by God to come in great columns to the river of Lethe, so that they may duly go back and see the vault of heaven again remembering nothing, and begin to be willing to return to bodies.
[tr. West (1990)]
All these others the god calls in a great crowd to the river Lethe,
after they have turned the wheel for a thousand years,
so that, truly forgetting, they can revisit the vault above,
and begin with a desire to return to the flesh.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
All these,
When they have rolled the wheel of time
Through a thousand years, will be called by God
In a great assembly to the river Lethe,
So that they return to the vaulted world
With no memory and may begin again
To desire rebirth in a human body.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
All the rest, once they have turned the wheel of time
for a thousand years: God calls them forth to the Lethe,
great armies of souls, their memories blank so that
they may revisit the overarching world once more
and begin to long to return to bodies yet again.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 865ff]
When the rest have cycled through a thousand years, the god calls them in clusters to the river Lethe. These forgetful spirits hope for resurrection into bodies. They start to want to see the sky.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
And even when life is over, all the evil
Ingrained so long, the adulterated mixture,
The plagues and pestilences of the body
Remain, persist. So there must be a cleansing,
By penalty, by punishment, by fire,
By sweep of wind, by water’s absolution,
Before the guilt is gone. Each of us suffers
His own peculiar ghost.
[Quin et supremo cum lumine vita reliquit,
non tamen omne malum miseris nec funditus omnes
corporeae excedunt pestes, penitusque necesse est
multa diu concreta modis inolescere miris.
Ergo exercentur poenis, veterumque malorum
supplicia expendunt: aliae panduntur inanes
suspensae ad ventos; aliis sub gurgite vasto
infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni;
quisque suos patimur Manes.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 735ff (6.735-743) [Anchises] (29-19 BC) [tr. Humphries (1951)]
(Source)
Souls in the underworld purging their spirits so that they can enter Elysium. The Manes were minor underworld deities and/or the spirits of deceased ancestors.
But when their latest light and life is set,
Not all woes leave them, nor all tortures quite
Forsake the wretches there; and 'tis but right;
Things strangely grown by custome into crimes,
They must be punish'd for their mispent times,
And tortures feele; some in the winds are hung,
Others to clense their spotted sins are flung
In a vast gulph, or purg'd in fire they are:
We all have our own tortures.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Nor can the groveling mind,
In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd,
Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind:
Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains;
But long-contracted filth ev'n in the soul remains.
The relics of inveterate vice they wear,
And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear.
For this are various penances enjoin'd;
And some are hung to bleach upon the wind,
Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires,
Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires
All have their manes, and those manes bear.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Even when with the last beams of light their life is gone, yet not every ill, nor all corporeal stains, are quite removed from the unhappy beings; and it is absolutely necessary that many imperfections which have long been joined to the soul should be in marvelous ways increased and riveted therin. Therefore are they afflicted with punishments, and pay the penalties of their former ills. Some, hung on high, are spread out to the empty winds; in others the guilt not done away is washed out ina vast watery abyss, or burned away in fire. We each endure his own manes.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Nay, when at last the life has fled,
And left the body cold and dead,
E'en then there passes not away
The painful heritage of clay;
Full many a long contracted stain
Perforce must linger deep in grain.
So penal sufferings they endure
For ancient crime, to make them pure:
Some hang aloft in open view
For winds to pierce them through and through,
While others purge their guilt deep-dyed
In burning fire or whelming tide.
Each for himself, we all sustain
The durance of our ghostly pain.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Nor e'en when life's last ray
Has fled, does every ill depart, nor all
Corporeal taints quite leave their unhappy frames,
And needs must be that many a hardened fault
Inheres in wondrous ways. Therefore the pains
Of punishment they undergo, for sins
Of former times. Some in the winds are hung
Suspended and exposed. Others beneath
A waste of waters from their guilt are cleansed,
Or purified by fire. We all endure
Our ghostly retribution.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 918ff]
Nay, and when the last ray of life is gone, not yet, alas! does all their woe, nor do all the plagues of the body wholly leave them free; and needs must be that many a long ingrained evil should take root marvellously deep. Therefore they are schooled in punishment, and pay all the forfeit of a lifelong ill; some are hung stretched to the viewless winds; some have the taint of guilt washed out beneath the dreary deep, or burned away in fire. We suffer, each a several ghost.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Yea, e'en when out of upper day their life at last is borne,
Not all the ill of wretched men is utterly outworn,
Not all the bane their bodies bred; and sure in wondrous wise
The plenteous ill they bore so long engrained in them it lies:
So therefore are they worn by woes and pay for ancient wrong:
And some of them are hung aloft the empty winds among;
And some, their stain of wickedness amidst the water's heart
Is washed away; amidst the fire some leave their worser part;
And each his proper death must bear.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 734ff]
Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
Nay, after death, the traces it retains
Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
Since much must needs by long concretion grow
Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
And schooled in all the discipline of woe;
Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
Our ghostly penance.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 97-98, l. 866ff]
Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell
May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed
From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law,
The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
For this, the chastisement of evils past
Is suffered here, and full requital paid.
Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds;
For some their sin's contagion must be purged
In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas,
Or burned away in fire. Each man receives
His ghostly portion in the world of dark.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, when at their last day life is fled, still not all the evil, alas! not all the plagues of the body quit them utterly; and it must needs be that many a taint, long linked in growth, should in wondrous wise become deeply ingrained. Therefore are they schooled with penalties, and for olden sins pay punishment: some are hung stretched out to the empty winds; from some the stain of guilt is washed away under swirling floods or burned out in fire. Each of us suffers his own spirit.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
Yes, not even when the last flicker of life has left us,
Does evil, or the ills that flesh is heir to, quite
Relinquish our souls; it must be that many a taint grows deeply,
Mysteriously grained in their being from long contact with the body.
Therefore the dead are disciplined in purgatory, and pay
The penalty of old evil: some hang, stretched ot the blast of
Vacuum winds; for others, the stain of sin is washed
Away in a vast whirlpool or cauterized with fire.
Each of us finds in the next world his own level.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
And when the final day of life deserts them,
then, even then, not every ill, not all
the plagues of body quit them utterly;
and this must be, for taints so long congealed
cling fast and deep in extraordinary
ways. Therefore they are schooled by punishment
and pay with torments for their own misdeeds:
some there are purified by air, suspended
and stretched before the empty winds; for some
the stain of guilt is washed away beneath
a mighty whirlpool or consumed by fire.
First each of us must suffer his own Shade.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 970ff]
In fact
Even when life departs on the last day
Not all the scourges of the body pass
From the poor souls, not all distress of life.
Inevitably, many malformations,
Growing together in mysterious ways,
Become inveterate. Therefore they undergo
The discipline of punishments and pay
In penance for old sins: some hang full length
To the empty winds, for some the stain of wrong
Is washed by floods or burned away by fire.
We suffer each his own shade.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 988ff]
Even when life leaves them on their last day of light, they are not wholly freed from all the many ills and miseries of the body which must harden in them over the long years and become ingrained in ways we cannot understand. And so they are put to punishment, to pay the penalty for all their ancient sins. Some are stretched and hung out empty to dry in the winds. Some have the stain of evil washed out of them under a vast tide of water or scorched out by fire. Each of us suffers his own fate in the after-life.
[tr. West (1990)]
Why, when life leaves them at the final hour,
still all of the evil, all the plagues of the flesh, alas,
have not completely vanished, and many things, long hardened
deep within, must of necessity be ingrained, in strange ways.
So they are scourged by torments, and pay the price
for former sins: some are hung, stretched out,
to the hollow winds, the taint of wickedness is cleansed
for others in vast gulfs, or burned away with fire:
each spirit suffers its own.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Nor, when the last gleam
Of life flickers out, are all the ills
That flesh is heir to completely uprooted.
But many corporal taints remain,
Ingrained in the soul in myriad ways.
And so we are disciplined and expiate
Our bygone sins. Some souls are hung
Spread to the winds; others are cleansed
Under swirling waters or purged by fire.
We each suffer our own ghosts.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
True,
but even on that last day, when the light of life departs,
the wretches are not completely purged of all the taints,
nor are they wholly freed of all the body’s plagues.
Down deep they harden fast -- they must, so long engrained
in the flesh -- in strange, uncanny ways. And so the souls
are drilled in punishments, they must pay for their old offenses.
Some are hung splayed out, exposed to the empty winds,
some are plunged in the rushing floods -- their stains,
their crimes scoured off or scorched away by fire.
Each of us must suffer his own demanding ghost.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 849ff]
Poor things, even when life leaves them on the day of death, not every sin or canker of the flesh fully recedes. Many habits harden over time, and in this way become ingrained. So they pay for former crimes by torment: exposed to hollow winds by crucifixion, washed clean of infection in a whirling flood, or cauterized by fire -- we all suffer our soul's cure.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
In despair
they blasphemed God, their parents, their time on earth, the race of Adam, and the day and the hour and the place and the seed and the womb that gave them birth.
But all together they drew to that grim shore where all must come who lose the fear of God. Weeping and cursing they come for evermore.
[Bestemmiavano Dio e lor parenti, l’umana spezie e ’l loco e ’l tempo e ’l seme di lor semenza e di lor nascimenti.
Poi si ritrasser tutte quante insieme, forte piangendo, a la riva malvagia ch’attende ciascun uom che Dio non teme.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 103ff (3.103-108) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 100ff]
(Source)
The damned at Charon's boat, waiting to cross the Acheron. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
God and their parents they alike blasphem'd,
Cursing all human kind, the time, the seed
From when they sprang, and of their birth the place.
They crouded then, with horrid yells and loud,
Close to the cursed shore of bliss devoid:
Where ev'ry Mortal waits who fears not God.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 87ff]
Loud they began to curse their natal star,
Their parent-clime, their lineage, and their God; Then to the ferry took the downward road With lamentable cries of loud despair.
Then o'er the fatal flood, in horror hung
Collected, stood the Heav'abandon'd throng.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 22-23]
God and their parents they blasphem'd,
The human kind, the place, the time, and seed
That did engender them and give them birth.
Then all together sorely wailing drew
To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass
Who fears not God.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
God they blasphemed, their parents and their kind, The place, the time, the seed prolifical, That embryo sowed them, and to life consigned.
Then wailing loud, their troop they gathered all, And back recoiled them to the baleful verge, Ordained to men from godliness who fall.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
They blasphemed God and their parents; the human kind; the place, the time, and origin of their seed, and of their birth. Then all of them together, sorely weeping, drew to the accursed shore, which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Blasphemed their God, their parents, human kind;
The time when, the hour, the natal earth,
The seed of their begetting, and their birth.
Then all withdrew, who there together were,
Loudly lamenting, to the wicked shore,
Awaiting those who feared not God before.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
God they blasphem'd, their parents they blasphem'd, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their conception and nativity.
Then by one impulse driv'n they onwards rush'd With bitter weeping to th' accursèd shore; The doom of all who have not God in fear.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
God they blasphemed and their progenitors, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering and of their birth!
Thereafter all together they drew back, Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, Which waiteth every man who fears not God.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
They fell to blaspheming God and their parents, the human kind, the place, the time, and the seed of their begetting and of their birth. Then they dragged them all together, wailing loud, to the baleful bank, which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
They cursed at God and at their parentage, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their begetting, and their earliest age.
Then all of them together on proceed. Wailing aloud, to the evil bank that stays For every one of God who takes no heed.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
They blasphemed God and their parents, the human race, the place, the time and the seed of their sowing and of their birth. Then, bitterly weeping, they drew back all of them together to the evil bank, that waits for every man who fears not God.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
They fell to blaspheming God and their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their sowing and of their births. Then in all their thronging crowds, the while they loudly wailed, they gathered them back together to the accursed shore, that awaiteth everyone that hath no fear of God.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Blasphemed they God himself and their own parents. The human race, the place, the time, the sowing O' the seed they sprang from, and their own beginnings.
Then they retreated, one and all together, Bitterly weeping, to the brink accursèd Which for all men who fear not God is waiting.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
They blasphemed God and their parents, the human kind, the place, the time, and the seed of their begetting and of their birth, then, weeping bitterly, they drew all together to the accursed shore which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
They blasphemed God, blasphemed their mother's womb, The human kind, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering, and their birth and doom;
Then weeping all together in their sad need Betook themselves to the accursed shore Which awaits each who of God takes no heed.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
God they blaspheme, blaspheme their parents' bed, The human race, the place, the time, the blood The seed that got them, and the womb that bred;
Then, huddling hugger-mugger, down they scud, Dismally wailing, to the accursed strand Which waits for every man that fears not God.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
They cursed God, their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their begetting and of their birth. Then, weeping loudly, all drew to the evil shore that awaits every man who fears not God.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
They were cursing God, cursing their mother and father, the human race, and the time, the place, the seed of their beginning, and their day of birth.
Then all together, weeping bitterly, they packed themselves along the wicked shore that waits for everyman who fears not God.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
They execrated God and their own parents and humankind, and then the place and time of their conception's seed and of their birth.
Then they forgathered, huddled in one throng, weeping aloud along that wretched shore which waits for all who have no fear of God.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Then they blasphemed God and cursed their parents, The human race, the place and time, the seed, The land that it was sown in, and their birth.
And then they gatehred, all of them together, Weeping aloud, upon the evil shore Which awaits every man who does not fear God.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
... cursing the human race,
God and their parents. Teeth chattering in their skulls, They called curses on the seed, the place, the hour Of their own begetting and their birth. With wails
And tears they gaterhed on the evil shore That waits for all who don't fear God.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
They cursed God and their parents, the human race and the place and the time and the seed of their sowing and of their birth. Then all of them together, weeping loudly, drew near the evil shore that awaits each one who does not fear God.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
They blasphemed against God, and their parents, the human species, the place, time, and seed of their conception, and of their birth. Then, all together, weeping bitterly, they neared the cursed shore that waits for every one who has no fear of God.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And they cursed God, and cursed the human race; they cursed their parents=, and their kith and kin; they cursed their birth; they cursed its time and place.
Weeping and gnashing their teeth they all drew in to that accursèd shore, which is the ate of everyone who brings his soul to ruin.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
They raged, blaspheming God and their own kin, the human race, the place and time, the seed from which they'd sprung, the day that they'd been born.
And then they came together all as one, wailing aloud along the evil margin that waits for all who have no fear of God.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
They blasphemed God, their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their begetting and their birth.
Then weeping bitterly, they drew together to the accursèd shore that waits for every man who fears not God.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
They cursed at God, the human race, their parents, The place where they'd been born, and the time, and the seed That gave them life and brought about their birth.
Then they crowded, all of them loudly weeping, Down to the cursed, ever-barren shore That waits for men who live as if God were sleeping.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
They cursed their parents, God, the human race,
The time, the temperature, their place of birth,
Their mother's father's brother's stupid face,
And everything of worth or nothing worth
That they could think of. Then they squeezed up tight
Together, sobbing, on the ragged edge
That waits for all who hold God in despite.
[tr. James (2013), l. 136ff]
Here are troops of men
who had suffered wounds, fighting to save their country,
and those who had been pure priests while still alive,
and the faithful poets whose songs were fit for Phoebus;
those who enriched our lives with the newfound arts they forged
and those we remember well for the good they did mankind.
[Hic manus, ob patriam pugnando vulnera passi,
Quique sacerdotes casti, dum vita manebat,
Quique pii vates, et Phoebo digna locuti,
Inventas aut qui vitam excoluere per artes,
Quique sui memores alios fecere merendo.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 660ff (6.660-664) (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), l. 764ff]
(Source)
Some of the blessed in Elysium.
Fairclough (below) suggests that the "arts" (artes) refers not so much to material inventions as to philosophical principles. Note that the Nobel prize medals for Physics, Chemistry, Medicine, and Literature include the similar "Inventas vitam juvat excoluisse per artes."
And here were those did for their countrey die,
With Priests who in their lives vow'd chastitie;
And sacred Poets who pleas'd Phoebus best,
Or by invented arts man's life assist,
And others in their memories renown'd,
Their temples all with snowie garlands bound.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Here patriots live, who, for their country's good,
In fighting fields, were prodigal of blood:
Priests of unblemish'd lives here make abode,
And poets worthy their inspiring god;
And searching wits, of more mechanic parts,
Who grac'd their age with new-invented arts:
Those who to worth their bounty did extend,
And those who knew that bounty to commend.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Here is a band of those who sustained wounds in fighting for their country; priests who preserved themselves pure and holy, while life remained; pious poets, who sung in strains worthy of Apollo; those who improved life by the invention of arts, and who by their worthy deeds made others remember them.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Here sees he the illustrious dead
Who fighting for their country bled;
Priests, who while earthly life remained
Preserved that life unsoiled, unstained;
Blest bards, transparent souls and clear,
Whose song was worthy Phœbus' ear;
Inventors, who by arts refined
The common life of human kind,
With all who grateful memory won
By services to others done.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Here the bands are seen,
Of those who for their country fought and bled;
The chaste and holy priests; the reverent bards
Whose words were worthy of Apollo; those
Who enriched life with the inventive arts;
And all who by deserving deeds had made
Their names remembered.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 821ff]
Here is the band of them who bore wounds in fighting for their country, and they who were pure in priesthood while life endured, and the good poets whose speech abased not Apollo; and they who made life beautiful by the arts of their invention, and who won by service a memory among men.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Lo, they who in their country's fight sword-wounded bodies bore;
Lo, priests of holy life and chaste, while they in life had part;
Lo, God-loved poets, men who spake things worthy Phœbus' heart:
And they who bettered life on earth by new-found mastery;
And they whose good deeds left a tale for men to name them by.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
There, the slain patriot, and the spotless sage,
And pious poets, worthy of the God;
There he, whose arts improved a rugged age,
And those who, labouring for their country's good,
Lived long-remembered.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 88, l. 784ff]
Here dwell the brave who for their native land
Fell wounded on the field; here holy priests
Who kept them undefiled their mortal day;
And poets, of whom the true-inspired song
Deserved Apollo's name; and all who found
New arts, to make man's life more blest or fair;
Yea! here dwell all those dead whose deeds bequeath
Deserved and grateful memory to their kind.
[tr. Williams (1910), l. 669ff]
Here is the band of those who suffered wounds, fighting for fatherland ; those who in lifetime were priests and pure, good bards, whose songs were meet for Phoebus; or they who ennobled life by truths discovered and they who by service have won remembrance among men.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
The band of heroes
Dwell here, all those whose mortal wounds were suffered
In fighting for the fatherland; and poets,
The good, the pure, the worthy of Apollo;
Those who discovered truth and made life nobler;
Those who served others.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
Here were assembled those who had suffered wounds in defence of
Their country; those who had lived pure lives as priests; and poets
Who had not disgraced Apollo, poets of true integrity;
Men who civilised life by the skills they discovered, and men whose
Kindness to others has kept their memories green.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Here was the company of those who suffered
wounds, fighting for their homeland; and of those
who, while they lived their lives, served as pure priests;
and then the pious poets, those whose songs
were worthy of Apollo; those who had
made life more civilized with newfound arts;
and those whose merits won the memory
of all men.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 874ff]
This was the company of those who suffered
Wounds in battle for their country; those
Who i their lives were holy men and chaste
Or worthy of Phoebus in prophetic song;
Or those who betted life, by finding out
New truths and skills; or those who to some folk
By benefactions made themselves remembered.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 883ff]
Here were armies of men bearing wounds received while fighting for their native land, priests who had been chaste unto death and true prophets whose words were worthy of Apollo; then those who have raised human life to new heights by the skills they have discovered and those whom men remember for what they have done for men.
[tr. West (1990)]
Here is the company of those who suffered wounds fighting
for their country: and those who were pure priests, while they lived,
and those who were faithful poets, singers worthy of Apollo,
and those who improved life, with discoveries in Art or Science,
and those who by merit caused others to remember them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Here were legions wounded fighting for their country, priests who'd led pure lives, pious poets with songs worthy of Apollo, men who bettered life by new inventions, and those whose merit set them down in memory.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
No, not if I had a hundred tongues and a hundred mouths
and a voice of iron too — I could never capture
all the crimes or run through all the torments,
doom by doom.
[Non, mihi si linguae centum sunt oraque centum
Ferrea vox, omnis scelerum comprendere formas,
Omnia poenarum percurrere nomina possim.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 625ff (6.625-627) [The Sybil] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), l. 724ff]
(Source)
The punishments in Tartarus. Virgil uses a similar metaphor in Georgics 2.43.
Had I a hundred mouths, as many tongues,
A voice of iron, to these had brazen lungs;
Their crimes and tortures ne're could be displaid.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And throats of brass, inspired with iron lungs,
I could not half those horrid crimes repeat,
Nor half the punishments those crimes have met.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Had I a hundred tongues, and a hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, I could not comprehend all the species of their crimes, nor enumerate the names of all their punishments.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
No -- had I e'en a hundred tongues
A hundred mouths, and iron lungs,
Those types of guilt I could not show,
Nor tell the forms of penal woe.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a voice
Of iron, could I tell thee all the forms
Of guilt, or number all their penalties.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 780ff]
Not had I an hundred tongues, an hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, could I sum up all the shapes of crime or name over all their punishments.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Nor, had I now an hundred mouths, an hundred tongues at need,
An iron voice, might I tell o'er all guise of evil deed,
Or run adown the names of woe those evil deeds are worth.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
Ne'er had a hundred mouths, if such were mine,
Nor hundred tongues their endless sins declared,
Nor iron voice their torments could define,
Or tell what doom to each the avenging gods assign.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 83, l. 744ff]
&I could not tell,
Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin,
Nor call by name the myriad pangs they bear.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, had I a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, and voice of iron, I could not sum up all the forms of crime, or rehearse all the tale of torments.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
If I had a hundred tongues,
A hundred iron throats, I could not tell
The fullness of their crime and punishment.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
No, not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths
And a voice of iron, could I describe all the shapes of wickedness,
Catalogue all the retributions inflicted here.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
A hundred tongues,
a hundred mouths, an iron voice were not
enough for me to gather all the forms
of crime or tell the names of all the torments.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 829ff]
If I had
A hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice
Of iron, I could not tell of all the shapes
Their crimes had taken, or their punishments.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
If I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths and a voice of iron, I could not encompass all their different crimes or speak the names of all their different punishments.
[tr. West (1990)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths,
a voice of iron, could I tell all the forms of wickedness
or spell out the names of every torment.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Not if I had a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And a voice of iron, could I recount
All the crimes or tell all their punishments.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
A hundred tongues and mouths, an iron voice, wouldn't let me cover the varieties of evil, nor all the names for punishments.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
There, steering toward us in an ancient ferry came an old man with a white bush of hair, bellowing: “Woe to you depraved souls! Bury
here and forever all hope of Paradise: I come to lead you to the other shore, into eternal dark, into fire and ice.”
[Ed ecco verso noi venir per nave un vecchio, bianco per antico pelo, gridando: “Guai a voi, anime prave!
Non isperate mai veder lo cielo: i’ vegno per menarvi a l’altra riva ne le tenebre etterne, in caldo e ’n gelo.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 82ff (3.82-87) [Charon] (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 79ff]
(Source)
Lo, rowing tow'rds us was one white with age,
And bawling out, "woe do you Souls deprav'd, Heaven expects you not e'er more to see; I come to waft you to another coast, Where are eternal Darkness, Heat, and Frost."
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 68ff]
Far off exclaim'd the grizzly mariner,
"Hither, ye Denizens of Hell, repair! The Stygian barque her wonted load requires;
For you diurnal stars beignant beam,
Prepare ye now to feel the fierce extreme Of frost corrosive, and outrageous fire."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 19]
And lo! toward us in a bark
Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,
Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not
Ever to see the sky again. I come
To take you to the other shore across,
Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
In fierce heat and in ice.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
When lo! to meet us came An ancient boatman, hoar with many a year. Crying, "Woe to you, souls of evil name!
Ne'er hope to see the bright celestial sphere: I come to waft you to another shore, Where, cold or heat, still endless night is near.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
And lo! an old man, white with ancient hair, comes towards us in a bark, shouting, "Woe to you, depraved spirits! hope not ever to see Heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and into ice."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And lo! towards us came one in a bark,
Whose head with hoar antiquity was white,
Cried, "Wow! Ye wicked souls, no more for heaven,
I come to lead you to yon other hold --
Darkness eternal, and to hot and cold!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And lo! towards us in a bark approach'd An aged man and white with hoary hair Crying -- "Woe, woe to you, ye wicked souls!
Hope not that you can ever Heaven behold; I come to guide you to the other shore, To night eternal, endless cold and heat.
[tr. Johnston (1867), l. 92ff]
And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
And behold came towards us in a boat an old man white by reason of ancient hair, crying, ‘Woe to you, perverse souls! Hope not again to see the sky; I come to bring you to the other bank, among the eternal gloom, to heat and to cold."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
When lo! upon a bark there towards us came A very old man, with age-whitened hair. Crying aloud, "Ah, woe, ye souls of shame!
Hope not again to see the sky so fair. I come to take ye to the other side. To shades eterne of heat and freezing there."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
And lo! coming toward us in a boat, an old man, white with ancient hair, crying, “Woe to you, wicked souls! hope not ever to see Heaven! I come to carry you to the other bank, into eternal darkness, to heat and frost.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
And lo! an old man, hoary with ancient locks, draweth towards us in a boat, crying out: "Curse on you, sinful souls! Never hope to see the sky! I am coming to ferry you to the other shore, into the darkness that is for ever, into flame and into frost."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And lo! towards us coming in a vessel An old man, whom his ancient locks made hoary, Crying out : "Woe to you, ye souls unrighteous;
Cherish not hope of ever seeing heaven; Unto the other bank I come to take you, To heat and frost, in the eternal darkness."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
And lo, coming towards us in a boat, an old man, his hair white with age, crying: "Woe to you, wicked souls, hope not ever to see the sky. I am come to bring you to the other bank, into the eternal shades, into fire and frost."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
And toward us lo! arriving in a boat An Ancient, white with hair upon him old, Crying, "Woe to you, ye spirits misbegot!
Hope not that heaven ye ever shall behold. I come to carry you to yon shore, and lead Into the eternal darkness, heat and cold."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
When from the far bank lo! A boat shot forth, whose white-haired boatman old Bawled as he came: "Woe to the wicked! Woe!
Never you hope to look on Heaven -- behold! I come to ferry you hence across the tide To endless night, fierce fires and shramming cold."
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
And behold, an old man, his hair white with age, coming towards us in a boat and shouting, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Do not hope to see Heaven ever! I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and cold."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
And suddenly, coming towards us in a boat, a man of years who ancient hair was white screamed at us, "Woe to you, perverted souls!
Give up all hope of every seeing heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, ice and fire."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
And here, advancing toward us, in a boat, an aged man -- his hair was white with years -- was shouting: "Woe to you, corrupted souls!
Forget your hope of ever seeing Heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore, to the eternal dark, to fire and frost."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
And then, there came towards us in a boat An old man who was white with brittle hair, Calling out: "Woe to you, perverse spirits!
You need not hope that you will ever see heaven; I have come to take you to the other side, Into eternal darkness, fire and ice."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Then, at the river -- an old man in a boat: White-haired, as he drew closer, shouting at us, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Give up the thought
Of Heaven! I come to ferry you across Into eternal dark on the opposite side, Into fire and ice!"
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 67ff]
And behold coming toward us in a boat an old man, white with the hairs of age, crying, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Never hope to see the sky: I come to lead you to the other shore, to the eternal shadows, to heat and freezing."
[tr. Durling (1996)]
And see, an old man, with white hoary locks, came towards us in a boat, shouting: "Woe to you, wicked spirits! Never hope to see heaven: I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and ice."
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Then lo! as we approached the place, a boat materialized, manned by a hoary boatman. "Woe to ye!" he roared, "abandon hope!
I come to lead you to the dark dominion of the other shore: into eternal shades of ice and fire, where no pain is forgotten."
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Look now! Towards us in a boat there came an old man, yelling, hair all white and aged, "Degenerates! Your fate is sealed! Cry woe!
Don't hope you'll ever see the skies again! I'm here to lead you to the farther shore, into eternal shadow, heat and chill."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
And now, coming toward us in a boat, an old man, his hair white with age, cried out: "Woe unto you, you wicked souls,
give up all hope of ever seeing Heaven. I come to take you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into heat and chill."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And suddenly a boat, and an old man in it, Came gliding through the misty air, approaching The shore. "Ah!" he shouted, "All you wicked
Souls! Don't wish for a Heaven you have no hope Of ever seeing! I'm here to take you over The river, to eternal darkness, to fire and cold."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Where suddenly an old man in a boat
Headed towards us, tossing his white hair
As he cried, "Woe to you and to your souls!
Give up your hopes of Heaven! I have come
To take you to the other side. Hot coals
And ice await, to brand you and benumb
In everlasting shadow."
[tr. James (2013), l. 114ff]
We have no right to prejudice another in his civil enjoiments because he is of another church. If any man err from the right way, it is his own misfortune, no injury to thee; nor therefore art thou to punish him in the things of this life because thou supposeth he will be miserable in that which is to come — on the contrary accdg to the spirit of the gospel, charity, bounty, liberality is due to him.
Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) American political philosopher, polymath, statesman, US President (1801-09)
Notes on Religion (Oct 1776?)
(Source)
Labeled by Jefferson "Scraps Early in the Revolution."
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE CITY OF WOE, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO EVERLASTING PAIN. THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH. DIVINE POWER MADE ME, WISDOM SUPREME, AND PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT THINGS ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
[Per me si va ne la città dolente, per me si va ne l’etterno dolore, per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore; fecemi la divina podestate, la somma sapïenza e ’l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro. Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 1ff (3.1-9) (1309) [tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
(Source)
Inscription on the outer gate to Hell. Sometimes quoted/translated to use "all" to modify "you who enter" rather than "hope," but in the Italian, "ogni speranza" means "all hope."
Note that Hell is the creation of all aspects of the Trinity: Power (the Father), Wisdom (the Son), and Love (the Holy Spirit). Regarding the last, Boyd notes: "That Love to the general welfare that must induce a moral Governor to enforce his laws by the sanction of punishment; as here a mistaken humanity is cruelty."
Through me you to the doleful City go; Through me you go where there is eternal Grief; Through me you go among the Sinners damn'ed.
With strictest justice is this portal made, By Power, Wisdom, and by Love divine.
Nothing before me e'er created was; Unless eternal, as I also am. Ye who here enter to return despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Thro' me, the newly-damn'd for ever fleet, In ceaseless shoals, to Pain's eternal seat; Thro' me they march, and join the tortur'd crew.
The mighty gulph offended Justice made; Unbounded pow'r the strong foundation laid, And Love, by Wisdom led, the limits drew.
Long ere the infant world arose to light, I found a being in the womb of night. Eldest of all -- but things that ever last! --
And I for ever last! -- Ye hear is of Hell, Here bid at once your ling'ring hope farewell, And mourn the moment of repentance past!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-2]
Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. "All hope abandon ye who enter here."
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Through me the path to city named of Wail; Through me the path to woe without remove; Through me the path to damned souls in bale!
Justice inclined my Maker from above; I am by virtue of the Might Divine, The Supreme Wisdom, and the Primal Love.
Created birth none antedates to mine, Save endless things, and endless I endure: Ye that are entering -- all hope resign.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Through me is the way into the doleful city; through me the way into the eternal pain; through me the way among the people lost. Justice moved my High Maker; Divine Power made me, Wisdom Supreme, and Primal Love. Before me were no things created, but eternal; and eternal I endure: leave all hope, ye that enter.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Through me the way into the sad city -- Through me the way into eternal grief -- Through me to nations lost without relief.
Justice it was that moved my Maker high, The power divine of Architect above, The highest wisdom and the earliest love.
The things of time were not before me, and 'Mid eternal eternally I stand. All you that enter must leave hope behind.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
I am the way unto the dolorous city; I am the way unto th' eternal dole; I am the way unto the spirits lost.
By Justice was my mighty Maker mov'd; Omnipotence Divine created me, Infinite Wisdom and Primeval Love.
Prior to me no thing created was But things eternal -- I eternal am; Leave hope behind all ye who enter here.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.
Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last. All hope abandon, ye who enter in!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
THROUGH ME IS THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY TO THE ENTERNAL WOE; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY AMONG THE LOST FOLK. JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER; MY MAKER WAS THE POWER OF GOD, THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE. BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED SAVE THINGS ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ABIDE; LEAVE EVERY HOPE, O YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Through me ye pass into the city of woe, Through me into eternal pain ye rove; Through me amidst the people lost ye go.
My high Creator justice first did move; Me Power Divine created, and designed, The highest wisdom and the primal love.
Previous to me was no created kind, Save the Eternal; I eternal last. Ye who here enter, leave all hope behind.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Through me is the way into the woeful city; through me is the way into eternal woe; through me is the way among the lost people. Justice moved my lofty maker: the divine Power, the supreme Wisdom and the primal Love made me. Before me were no things created, unless eternal, and I eternal last. Leave every hope, ye who enter!
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Through me lieth the way to the city of tribulation; through me lieth the way to the pain that hath no end; through me lieth the way amongst the lost. Justice it was that moved my august maker; God's puissance reared me, wisdom from on high, and first-born love. Before me created things were not, save those that are eternal; and I abide eternally. Leave every hope behind, ye that come within.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Through me the road is to the city doleful: Through me the road is to eternal dolour: Through me the road is through the lost folk's dwelling:
Justice it was that moved my lofty Maker: Divine Omnipotence it was that made me, Wisdom supreme, and Love from everlasting:
Before me were not any things created. Save things eternal: I endure eternal: Leave every hope behind you, ye who enter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH, DIVINE POWER MADE ME AND SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE;
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED BUT ETERNAL THINGS AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
v
THROUGH ME THE WAY IS TO THE CITY OF WOE: THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE ETERNAL PAIN; THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST BELOW.
RIGHTEOUSNESS DID MY MAKER ON HIGH CONSTRAIN. ME DID DIVINE AUTHORITY UPREAR; ME SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE SUSTAIN.
BEFORE I WAS, NO THINGS CREATED WERE SAVE THE ETERNAL, AND I ETERNAL ABIDE. RELINQUISH ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO THE CITY OF DESOLATION, THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO SORROWS DIUTURNAL, THROUGH ME THE ROAD AMONG THE LOST CREATION.
JUSTICE MOVED MY GREAT MAKER; GOD ETERNAL WROUGHT ME: THE POWER, AND THE UNSEARCHINBLY HIGH WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE SUPERNAL.
NOTHING ERE I 2WAS MADE WAS MADE TO BE SAVE THINGS ENTERNE, AND I ETERNE ABIDE; LAY DOWN ALL HOPE, YOU THAT GO IN BY ME.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
I AM THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE. I AM THE WAY TO A FORSAKEN PEOPLE. I AM THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW.
SACRED JUSTICE MOVED MY ARCHITECT. I WAS RAISED HERE BY DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE, PRIMORDIAL LOVE, AND ULTIMATE INTELLECT.
ONLY THOSE ELEMENTS TIME CANNOT WEAR WERE MADE BEFORE ME, AND BEHOND TIME I STAND. ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE WOEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER ETERNAL GRIEF, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER: THE DIVINE POWER MADE ME, THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED IF NOT ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE DOLEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL GRIEF, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG A RACE FORSAKEN.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HEAVENLY CONSTRUCTOR; DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE CREATED ME, AND HIGHEST WISDOM JOINED WITH PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS WERE MADE, AND I SHALL LAST ETERNALLY. ABANDON HOPE, FOREVER, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE URGED ON MY HIGH ARTIFICER; MY MAKER WAS DIVINE AUTHORITY, THE HIGHEST WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS WERE MADE, AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY. ABANDON EVERY HOPE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Through me you go into the city of weeping; Through me you go into eternal pain; Through me you go among the lost people.
Justice is what moved my exalted Maker; I was the invention of the power of God, Of his wisdom, and of his primal love.
Before me there was nothing that was created Except eternal things; I am eternal: No room for hope, when you enter this place.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO THE CITY OF WOES, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE POPULATION OF LOSS.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER, IN POWER DIVINE, WISDOM SUPREME, LOVE PRIMAL. NO THINGS WERE BEFORE ME NOT ENTERNAL; ETERNAL I REMAIN.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE GRIEVING CITY, 2THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER; DIVINE POWER MADE ME, HIGHEST WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED EXCEPT ETERNAL ONES, AND I ENDURE ETERNAL. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE INFERNAL CITY: THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL SADNESS: THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY SUPREME MAKER: I WAS SHAPED BY DIVINE POWER, BY HIGHEST WISDOM, AND BY PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME, NOTHING WAS CREATED, THAT IS NOT ETERNAL: AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. FORSAKE ALL HOPE, ALL YOU THAT ENTER HERE.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Through me, into the city full of woe; through me, the message of eternal pain; through me, the passage where the lost souls go.
Justice moved my Maker in his high domain; Power Divine and Primal Love built me, and Supreme Wisdom; I will aye remain.
Before me there was nothing made to be, except eternity; eternal I endure; all hope abandon, ye who go through me.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Through me you go to the grief-wracked city. Through me to everlasting pain you go. Through me you go and pass among lost souls.
Justice inspired my exalted Creator. I am a creature of the Holiest Power, of Wisdom in the HIghest and of Primal Love.
Nothing till I was made was made, only eternal beings. And I endure eternally. Surrender as you enter every hope you have.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
It is through me you come to the city of sorrow, It is through me you reach eternal sadness, It is through me you join the forever-lost.
Justice moved my makers' wondrous hands; I was made by Heaven's powers, holy, divine, Endless wisdom, primal love of man.
Eternal existence preceded mine, And nothing more. I will exist for ever. Give up all hope, until the end of time.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
TO ENTER THE LOST CITY, GO THROUGH ME.
THROUGH ME YOU GO TO MEET A SUFFERING
UNCEASING AND ETERNAL. YOU WILL BE
WITH PEOPLE WHO, THROUGH ME, LOST EVERYTHING.
MY MAKER, MOVED BY JUSTICE, LIVES ABOVE.
THROUGH HIM, THE HOLY POWER, I WAS MADE --
MADE BY THE HEIGHT OF WISDOM AND FIRST LOVE,
WHOSE LAWS ALL THOSE IN HERE ONCE DISOBEYED.
FROM NOW ON, EVERY DAY FEELS LIKE YOUR LAST
FOREVER. LET THAT BE YOUR GREATEST FEAR.
YOUR FUTURE NOW IS TO REGRET THE PAST.
FORGET YOUR HOPES. THEY WERE WHAT BROUGHT YOU HERE.
[tr. James (2013)]
Nay, we have heard it said that there is not a quaker or a baptist, a presbyterian or an episcopalian, a catholic or a protestant in heaven: that, on entering that gate, we leave those badges of schism behind, and find ourselves united in those principles only in which god has united us all. Let us not be uneasy then about the different roads we may pursue, as believing them the shortest, to that our last abode: but, following the guidance of a good conscience, let us be happy in the hope that, by these different paths, we shall all meet in the end. and that you and I may there meet and embrace is my earnest prayer: and with this assurance I salute you with brotherly esteem and respect.
Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) American political philosopher, polymath, statesman, US President (1801-09)
Letter (1814-09-26) to Miles King
(Source)
A Dialogue between two Infants in the womb concerning the state of this world, might handsomely illustrate our ignorance of the next, whereof methinks we yet discourse in Platoes denne, and are but Embryon Philosophers.
Thomas Browne (1605-1682) English physician and author Hydriotaphia, or Urne-Buriall, ch. 4 (1658)
(Source)
All religions are ultimately cargo cults. Adherents perform required rituals, follow specific rules, and expect to be supernaturally gifted with desired rewards — long life, honor, wisdom, children, good health, wealth, victory over opponents, immortality after death, any desired rewards.
Octavia Butler (1947-2006) American writer Parable of the Talents, ch. 19, epigram (1998)
(Source)
Once, when a religionist denounced me in unmeasured terms, I sent him a card saying, “I am sure you believe that I will go to hell when I die, and that once there I will suffer all the pains and tortures the sadistic ingenuity of your deity can devise and that this torture will continue forever. Isn’t that enough for you? Do you have to call me bad names in addition?”
Isaac Asimov (1920-1992) Russian-American author, polymath, biochemist I, Asimov, ch. 73 “Letters” (1979)
(Source)
My parents in the underworld! I send This servant girl — take care and gently tend.
Conduct her past the terrifying shade. Keep her of circling horrors unafraid,
For she, alas, was only six days shy Of six years when too soon she came to die.
Protect her as she plays her childhood games, And lisps, as shyly she was wont, our names.
Earth, sadly mounded on this gravesite new, Press lightly on her, as she did on you.
[Hanc tibi, Fronto pater, genetrix Flaccilla, puellam
Oscula commendo deliciasque meas,
Parvula ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras
Oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis.
Impletura fuit sextae modo frigora brumae,
Vixisset totidem ni minus illa dies.
Inter tam veteres ludat lasciva patronos
Et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum.
Mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi,
Terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.]
Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis] Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 5, epigram 34 (5.34) (AD 90) [tr. Wills (2007)]
(Source)
Erotion was a slave child in Martial's household, per other epigrams. The identity of Fronto and Flaccilla -- whether they are the names of Martial's parents or Erotion's -- is ambiguous in the Original Latin, and a subject of debate. See also 10.61.
Alternate translations:
Ye parents Fronto and Flaccilla here, To you I do commend my girl, my dear,
Lest pale Erotion tremble at the shades, And the foul dog of hell's prodigious heads.
Her age fulfilling just six winters was, Had she but known so many days to pass.
'Mongst you, old patrons, may she sport and play, And with her lisping tongue my name oft say.
May the smooth turf her soft bones hide, and be, O earth, as light to her as she to thee!
[tr. Fletcher (1656)]
Fronto, to thee, to thee, Flaccilla mild, My darling I commend, your lively child.
Oh! may no sable shades make her more pale, Nor the Tartarean dog the Love assail.
Six times the rig'rous solstice had the run, Has she survey'd six times another sun.
Mid her old patrons, may the prattler play; And lisp my name, as in the realms of day.
To her soft bones no turf oppressive be: O earth lie light on her, who lay so light on thee.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 9, ep. 18]
O my father, Fronto! and my mother, Flacilla! I commend to you, in the realm below, this damsel, my delight and the object of my kisses, lest Erotion be terrified at the dark shades, and at the enormous mouth of the dog of Tartarus. She would have completed her sixth winter if she had lived six days longer. May she continue her sportive ways under your reverend patronage, and may she garrulously stammer forth my name! May the turf lie lightly on her delicate bones; you ought not, O earth, to be heavy to her; she was not so to thee!
[tr. Amos (1858) ep. 35]
To you, O Fronto my father, and to you, O Flaccilla my mother, I commend this child, the little Erotion, my joy and my delight, that she may not be terrified at the dark shades and at the monstrous mouth of the dog of Tartarus. She would just have passed the cold of a sixth winter, had she lived but six days longer. Between protectors so venerable may she sport and play, and with lisping speech babble my name. Let no rude turf cover her tender bones, and press not heavy on her, O earth; she pressed but lightly on thee.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]
To you -- dun spectres to forefend
And yon Tartarean monster dread --
This little maiden I commend, Dead parents of my darling dead!
Had only my Erotion's span
While just so many days were told,
Been lengthened out to dwell with man, She had been then six winters old.
Still sportive may she spend her days,
And lisp my name with prattling tongue;
Nor chide her little wanton ways, Mid friends so old, and she so young.
Soft be the turf that shrouds her bed,
For delicate and soft was she.
And, Earth, lie lightly o'er her head, For light the steps she laid on thee.
[tr. Webb (1879)]
Mother and sire, to you do I commend Tiny Erotion, who must now descend,
A child, among the shadows, and appear Before hell's bandog and hell's gondolier.
Of six hoar winters she had felt the cold, But lacked six days of being six years old.
Now she must come, all playful, to that place Where the great ancients sit with reverend face;
Now lisping, as she used, of whence she came, Perchance she names and stumbles at my name.
O'er these so fragile bones, let there be laid A plaything for a turf; and for that maid
That ran so lightly footed in her mirth Upon thy breast -- lie lightly, mother earth!
[tr. Stevenson (1884)]
To thee, father Fronto, to thee, mother Flacilla, commend this maid, my sweetheart and my darling, that tiny Erotion may not shudder at the dark shades and the Tartarean hound's stupendous jaws. She would have completed only her sixth cold winter had she not lived as many days too few. Beside protectors so aged let her lightly play, and prattle my name with lisping tongue. And let not hard clods cover her tender bones, nor be though heavy upon her, O earth: she was not so to thee!
[tr. Ker (1919)]
Thou Mother dear and thou my Father's shade, To you I now commit the gentle maid,
Erotion, my little love, my sweet; Let not her shuddering spirit fear to meet
The ghosts, but soothe her lest she be afraid. How should a baby heart be undismayed
To pass the lair where Cerberus is laid? The little six-year maiden gently greet.
Dear reverend spirits, give her kindly aid And let her play in some Elysian glade, Lisping my name sometimes -- and, I entreat
Lie on her softly, kind earth; her feet, Such tiny feet, on thee were lightly laid.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]
Flaccilla, Fronto, take her as I write, My precious darling and my soul's delight,
Let not Erotion fear the shades around And the fell jaws of the Tartarean hound.
Had she but lived till six more days were told, She had survived six winters and their cold.
There let her play amidst our fellowship And lisp my name with dainty stammering lip.
Her gentle head, Earth, with soft mosses dress, And as her footstep light be thy caress.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #240]
Mother Flaccilla, Fronto sire that's gone, This darling pet of mine, Erotion,
I pray ye greet, that nor the Land of Shade Nor Hell-hound's maw shall fright my little maid.
Full six chill winters would the child have seen Had her life only six days longer been.
Sweet child, with our lost friends to guard thee, play, And lisp my name in thine own prattling way.
Soft be the turf that shrouds her! Tenderly Rest on her, earth, for she trod light on thee.
[tr. Duff (1929)]
To thee, my father, and to thee, my mother, I recommend this darling little maid.
Shield her from the dreadful hound of Hades, Shield her from the dark infernal shades.
She would have known the chill of six cold winters Had she lived only six more little days.
Amid such old defenders let her frolic And babble my name as was her childish way.
Lie lightly on her, earth, O lie not heavy Upon her bones, for she was light on thee.
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]
Fronto, father, and mother Flaccilla,
hold my darling Erotion firm in your memory:
Don't let her diminutive soul shiver
at the dusky shades of Hell
or flinch at the monstrous mouth
of the watchdog Tartarus.
Had she lived six days longer,
she would have seen her sixth winter solstice. She was always happy, always at ease in the company of older people. I hope she will still, down there, be gaily lisping my name, in her afterlife.
Oh green earth, rest lightly on her! Do not
bear down too hard on her there, who was
never a trouble or burden to you, here.
[tr. Bovie (1970), "Erotion (1)"]
To you, my parents, I send on This little girl Erotion,
The slave I loved, that by your side Her ghost need not be terrified
Of the pitch darkness underground Or the great jaws of Hades' hound.
This winter she would have completed Her sixth year had she not been cheated
By just six days. Lisping my name, May she continue the sweet game
Of childhood happily down there In two such good, old spirits' care.
Lie lightly on her, turf and dew; She put so little weight on you.
[tr. Michie (1972)]
To you, the shades of my begetters, Fronto
and Flacilla, where you lie in sweet
decay, I commend with love the body
of my darling child Erotion. A home-
bred slave yet tender as a golden dormouse,
rarer than the Phoenix, whiter than
an unsmudged lily -- guide her spirit home
so she may look for lights in Tartarus
and miss the snapping jaws of hell-hound
Cerberus. She’d have lived six shivering winters
if she hadn’t died that many days before
the anniversary. Now let her play
light-heartedly in the ever-darkened house
beside such sure protectors. May my name
be burbling on her tongue, the childish gift
of sorrow spent on age. And monumental earth,
draw back eternal weight from her
small bones; don’t be severe and tread
on her with gravity: she never did on you.
[tr. Porter (1972)]
Fronto, Father, Flacilla, Mother, extend
your protection from the Stygian shadows.
The small Erotion (my household Iris)
has changed my house for yours. See that the hell-
hound's horrid jaws don't scare her, who was no
more than six years old (less six days) on the
Winter day she died. She'll play beside you
gossiping about me in child's language.
Weigh lightly on her small bones, gentle earth,
as she, when living, lightly trod on you.
[tr. Whigham (1987)]
To you, father Fronto and mother Flaccilla, I commend this girl, my pet and darling. Little Erotion must not be frightened by the dark shades and the monstrous mouths of Tartarus' hound. She was due to complete the chills of a sixth midwinter, no more, if she had not lived that many days too few. Let her now play and frolic with her old patrons and lispingly chatter my name. Not hard be the turf that covers her soft bones, be not heavy upon her, earth; she was not heavy upon you.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]
To your shades Fronto, and Flaccilla, this child
I commend: she was my sweet and my delight.
Little Erotion shall not fear the darkened shades
nor the vast mouths of the Tartarean hound.
She’d have completed her sixth chill winter,
if she’d not lived a mere six days too few.
Now let her frisk and play among old friends
now let her chatter, and so lisp my name.
And let the soft turf cover her brittle bones:
earth, lie lightly on her: she lay lightly on you.
[tr. Kline (2006)]
To you, my parents Fronto and Flaccilla,
I commend this girl, my darling and delight,
Don't let the dark shades and the huge-mouthed hellhound fill my small Erotion with fright.
She would have known the chill of six midwinters
had she survived by just as many days.
Now let her lisping mouth prattle my name to her old patrons, and she romps and plays.
Let no hard turf hide her soft bones. Earth, do not press her harshly; she was light on you.
[tr. McLean (2014)]
This girl, father Fronto and mother Flaccilla, I commit to your care, so that little Erotion, my pet and darling, may not tremble at the dark shades and at the monstrous mouths of the hound of Tartarus. She would have just seen out the frosts of her sixth midwinter, had her life not fallen that many days short. I hope she plays and skips now in her former patrons' keeping; I hope her hare-lip mumbles my name. Please let the turf that covers her bones not be hard, and, earth, be not heavy upon her, she was no weight on you.
[tr. Nisbet (2015)]
I commend you this slave girl, father Fronto, mother Flaccilla, as she was my delight and the object of my kisses. May little Erotion not fear the dark shades nor the vast mouths of the Tartarean dog. She would have completed her sixth cold winter if she'd not lived as many days too few. Now, let her play amid old friends, let her chatter and lisp my name. May the soft turf cover her brittle bones: earth, lie lightly on her, as she was not heavy on you.
[Source]
To you, my departed parents, dear mother and father, I commend my little lost angel, Erotion, love’s daughter.
She fell a mere six days short of outliving her sixth frigid winter. Protect her now, I pray, should the chilling dark shades appear;
muzzle hell’s three-headed hound, lest her heart be dismayed! Lead her to romp in some sunny Elysian glade,
her devoted patrons. Watch her play childish games as she excitedly babbles and lisps my name.
Let no hard turf smother her softening bones; and do rest lightly upon her, earth, she was surely no burden to you!
[tr. Burch]
And I’ve always said, you know, that I don’t respect people that don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and hell, and people could be going to hell — or not getting eternal life, or whatever — and you think that, “Well, it’s not really worth tellin’ ’em this, because it would make it socially awkward.” And atheists who think that people shouldn’t proselytize, “Just leave me alone. Keep your religion to yourself.” How much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize? How much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?
I mean, if I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you and you didn’t believe it, that a truck was bearing down on you, there’s a certain point where I tackle you — and this is more important than that.
Penn Jillette (b. 1955) American stage magician, actor, musician, author
“A Gift of a Bible,” Penn Says, ep. 192 (9 Dec 2008)
(Source)
In all your actions, words, and thoughts, be aware that it is possible that you may depart from life at any time. But leaving the human race is nothing to be afraid of, if the gods exist; they would not involve you in anything bad. And if they do not exist or have no concern for human affairs, why should I live in a universe empty of gods and empty of providence? But the gods do exist and have concern for human affairs and have placed it wholly in the power of human beings never to meet what is truly bad.
Whatsoever thou dost affect, whatsoever thou dost project, so do, and so project all, as one who, for aught thou knowest, may at this very present depart out of this life. And as for death, if there be any gods, it is no grievous thing to leave the society of men. The gods will do thee no hurt, thou mayest be sure. But if it be so that there be no gods, or that they take no care of the world, why should I desire to live in a world void of gods, and of all divine providence? But gods there be certainly, and they take care for the world; and as for those things which be truly evil, as vice and. wickedness, such things they have put in a man's own power, that he might avoid them if he would.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), #8]
Manage all your Actions and Thoughts in such a Manner as if you were just going to step into the Grave. And what great matter is the Business of Dying; if the Gods are in Being you can suffer nothing, for they'll do you no Harm, and if they are not, or take no Care of us Mortals, why then I must tell you, that a World without either Gods, or Providence is not worth a Man's while to live in. But there's no need of this Supposition; The Being of the Gods, and their Concern in Human Affairs is beyond Dispute. And as an Instance of this, They have put it in his Power not to fall into any Calamity properly so called.
[tr. Collier (1701)]
Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of gods or devoid of providence? But in truth they do exist, and they do care for human things, and they have put all the means in man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils.
[tr. Long (1873 ed.)]
Manage all your actions, words, and thoughts accordingly , since you may at any moment quit life. And what great matter is the business of dying? If the gods are in being, you can suffer nothing, for they will do you no har. And if they are not, or take no care of us mortals -- why, then a world without either gods or Providence is not worth a man's while ot live in. But, in truth, the being of the gods, and their concern in human affairs, is beyond dispute. And they have put it entirely in a man's power not to fall into any calamity properly so-called.
[tr. Zimmern (1887)]
Whatever you do or say or think, it is in your power, remember, to take leave of life. In departing from this world, if indeed there are gods, there is nothing to be afraid of; for gods will not let you fall into evil. But if there are no gods, or if they do not concern themsleves with men, why live on in a world devoid of gods, or devoid of providence? But there do exist gods, who do concern themselves with men. And they have put it wholly in the power of man not to fall into any true evil.
[tr. Rendall (1898 ed.)]
Let thine every deed and word and thought be those of a man who can depart from life this moment.[16] But to go away from among men, if there are Gods, is nothing dreadful ; for they would not involve thee in evil. But if indeed there are no Gods, or if they do not concern themselves with the affairs of men, what boots it for me to live in a Universe where there are no Gods, where Providence is not? Nay, but there are Gods, and they do concern themselves with human things;[17] and they have put it wholly in man's power not to fall into evils that are truly such.
[tr. Haines (1916)]
In the conviction that it is possible you may depart from life at once, act and speak and think in every case accordingly. But to leave the company of men is nothing to fear, if gods exist; for they would not involve you in ill. If, however, they do not exist or if they take no care for man's affairs, why should I go on living in a world void of gods, or void of providence? But they do exist, and they do care for men's lives, and they have put it entirely in a man's power not to fall into real ills.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]
In all you do or say or think, recollect that at any time the power of withdrawal from life is in your hands. If gods exist, you have nothing to fear in taking leave of mankind, for they will not let you come to harm. But if there are no gods, or if they have no concern with mortal affairs, what is life to me, in a world devoid of gods or devoid of Providence? Gods, however, do exist, and do concern themselves with the world of men. They have given us full power not to fall into any of the absolute evils.
[tr. Staniforth (1964)]
You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think. If the gods exist, then to abandon human beings is not frightening; the gods would never subject you to harm. And if they don't exist, or don't care what happens to us, what would be the point of living in a world without gods or Providence? But they do exist, they do care what happens to us, and everything a person needs to avoid real harm they have placed within him.
[tr. Hays (2003)]
Do, say, and think each thing as if it is possible to die right now. To leave the discussion of human affairs, if there are gods, it is nothing terrible -- for they would not ensnare you in evil. If, moreover, there are no gods -- or if the realms of men are not their concern -- why would I live in a universe emptied of gods or their foresight? No, there are gods and they are concerned with the affairs of men. And they have completely arranged it that the human race many not fall into evils that are truly evil.
[tr. @sentantiq (2017)]
To those who wish to punish others — or at least to see them punished, if the avengers are too cowardly to take matters into their own hands — the belief in a fiery, hideous hell appears to be a great source of comfort.
Steve Allen (1922-2000) American composer, entertainer, and wit. Steve Allen on the Bible, Religion, and Morality, “Hell” (1990)
(Source)
I trouble not myself about the manner of future existence. I content myself with believing, even to positive conviction, that the power that gave me existence is able to continue it, in any form and manner he pleases, either with or without this body; and it appears more probable to me that I shall continue to exist hereafter than that I should have had existence, as I now have, before that existence began.
Thomas Paine (1737-1809) American political philosopher and writer The Age of Reason, Part 1, Recapitulation (1794)
(Source)
Do the best you can where you are; and, when that is accomplished, God will open a door for you, and a voice will call, “Come up hither into a higher sphere.”
Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887) American clergyman and orator Life Thoughts [ed. E. Proctor] (1858)
(Source)
Trust me, the being-dead part is much easier than the dying part. If you can watch much television, then being dead will be a cinch. Actually, watching television and surfing the Internet are really excellent practice for being dead.
Chuck Palahniuk (b. 1962) American novelist and freelance journalist Damned, ch. 1 (2011)
(Source)
I do not see in religion the mystery of the incarnation, but the mystery of the social order; religion attaches to heaven an idea of equality that stops the rich from being massacred by the poor.
[Quant à moi, je ne vois pas dans la religion le mystère de l’incarnation, mais le mystère de l’ordre social; elle rattache au ciel une idée d’égalité qui empêche que le riche ne soit massacré par le pauvre.]
Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821) French emperor, military leader
Statement (4 Mar 1806)
(Source)
Quoted in Opinions de Napoléon sur divers sujets de politique et d'administration, recueillies par un membre de son conseil d'état (1833).
Satchelmouth was by no means averse to the finger-foxtrot and the skull fandango, but he’d never murdered anyone, at least on purpose. Satchelmouth had been made aware that he had a soul and, though it had a few holes in it and was a little ragged around the edges, he cherished the hope that some day the god Reg would find him a place in a celestial combo. You didn’t get the best gigs if you were a murderer. You probably had to play the viola.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Soul Music (1994)
As to a hereafter, we have not the slightest evidence that there is any — no evidence that appeals to logic and reason. I have never seen what to me seemed an atom of proof that there is a future life. And yet — I am strongly inclined to expect one.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Quoted in Albert Bigelow Paine, Mark Twain: A Biography, Vol. 4, ch. 264 (1922)
(Source)
How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.
Cormac McCarthy (1933-2023) American novelist, playwright, screenwriter Suttree (1979)
(Source)
The principle is surely not new in the world: everyone ought to know by this time that a mountebank, thinking only of tomorrow’s cakes, is far safer with power in his hands than a prophet and martyr, his eyes fixed frantically upon the rewards beyond the grave.
H. L. Mencken (1880-1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]
“What I Believe,” sec. 2, Forum and Century (Sep 1930)
(Source)
DEATH: You see. No shock. No engulfment. No tearing asunder. What you feared would come like an explosion is like a whisper. What you thought was the end is the beginning.
George Clayton Johnson (1929-2015) American writer Twilight Zone, 3×16 “Nothing in the Dark” (5 Jan 1962)
And, when you, looking on your fellow men
Behold them doomed to endless misery,
How can you talk of joy and rapture then?
May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
Anne Brontë (1820-1849) British novelist, poet [pseud. Acton Bell]
“A Word to Calvinists” (28 May 1843)
(Source)
“Do unto others …” is a good rule of thumb. I live by that. Forgiveness is probably the greatest virtue there is. But that’s exactly what it is -‐ a virtue. Not just a Christian virtue. No one owns being good. I’m good. I just don’t believe I’ll be rewarded for it in heaven. My reward is here and now. It’s knowing that I try to do the right thing. That I lived a good life. And that’s where spirituality really lost its way. When it became a stick to beat people with. “Do this or you’ll burn in hell.”
You won’t burn in hell. But be nice anyway.
Ricky Gervais (b. 1961) English comedian, actor, director, writer
“Why I’m an Atheist,” Wall Street Journal (19 Dec 2010)
(Source)
Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
“The Weight of Glory,” sermon, Oxford University Church of St Mary the Virgin (8 Jun 1941)
The wish falls often warm upon my heart that I may learn nothing here that I cannot continue in the other world; that I may do nothing here but deeds that will bear fruit in heaven.
Jean Paul Richter (1763-1825) German writer, art historian, philosopher, littérateur [Johann Paul Friedrich Richter; pseud. Jean Paul]
Letter to Rector Werner (1781)
(Source)
“You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”
Charles Dickens (1812-1870) English writer and social critic A Christmas Carol (1843)
Sometimes oddly paraphrased, "We forge the chains we wear in life."
He shrugged his shoulders. “I have known many gods. He who denies them is as blind as he who trusts them too deeply. I seek not beyond death. It may be the blackness averred by the Nemedian skeptics, or Crom’s realm of ice and cloud, or the snowy plains and vaulted halls of the Nordheimer’s Valhalla. I know not, nor do I care. Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of white arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content. Let teachers and priests and philosophers brood over questions of reality and illusion. I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.”
Robert E. Howard (1906-1936) American author
“Queen of the Black Coast” (1934)
The doors of Hell are locked on the inside. I do not mean that the ghosts may not wish to come out of Hell, in the vague fashion wherein an envious man “wishes” to be happy: but they certainly do not will even the first preliminary stages of that self-abandonment through which alone the soul can reach any good. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded, and are therefore self-enslaved: just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Problem of Pain (1940)
There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilisations — these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit — immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn: We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously — no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner — no mere tolerance, or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbour, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat — the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
“The Weight of Glory,” sermon, Oxford University Church of St Mary the Virgin (8 Jun 1941)
“Even if some details of dogma aren’t true — or even all of ’em — think what a consolation religion and the church are to weak humanity!”
“Are they? I wonder! Don’t cheerful agnostics, who know they are going to die dead, worry much less than good Baptists, who worry lest their sons and cousins and sweethearts fail to get into the Baptist heaven — or what is even worse, who wonder if they may not have guessed wrong — if God may not be a Catholic, maybe, or a Mormon or Seventh-day Adventist instead of a Baptist, and then they’ll go to hell themselves. Consolation? No!”
Sinclair Lewis (1885-1951) American novelist, playwright Elmer Gantry (1927)
And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Last Battle, final words (1956)
Heaven will solve our problems, but not, I think, by showing us subtle reconciliations between all our apparently contradictory notions. The notions will all be knocked from under our feet. We shall see that there never was any problem.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
A Grief Observed (1961)
Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively. But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand.
Unless, of course, you can literally believe all that stuff about family reunions “on the further shore,” pictured in entirely earthly terms. But that is all unscriptural, all out of bad hymns and lithographs. There’s not a word of it in the Bible. And it rings false. We know it couldn’t be like that. Reality never repeats. The exact same thing is never taken away and given back. How well the Spiritualists bait their hook! “Things on this side are not so different after all.” There are cigars in Heaven. For that is what we should all like. The happy past restored.
And that, just that, is what I cry out for, with mad, midnight endearments and entreaties spoken into the empty air.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
A Grief Observed (1961)
Consider and act with reference to the true ends of existence. This world is but the vestibule of an immortal life. Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.
Edwin Hubbell Chapin (1814-1880) American clergyman
(Attributed)
(Source)
Quoted in Charles Northend, Memory Gems (1890).
Variant: "Every action of your life touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity." ["Advice to the Young," quoted in Charles W. Sanders, Sanders' Union Fourth Reader (1873)]
It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried: “I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Last Battle, ch. 15 (1956)
How small man is on this little atom where he dies! But how great his intelligence! He knows when the face of the stars must be masked in darkness, when the comets will return after thousands of years, he who lasts only an instant! A microscopic insect lost in a fold of the heavenly robe, the orbs cannot hide from him a single one of their movements in the depth of space. What destinies will those stars, new to us, light? Is their revelation bound up with some new phase of humanity? You will know, race to be born; I know not, and I am departing.
François-René de Chateaubriand (1768-1848) French writer, politican, diplomat Memoirs from Beyond the Grave [Mémoires d’Outre-Tombe], Book 42, ch. 18 (1848-1850) [tr. Kline]
I was told that the Chinese said they would bury me by the Western Lake and build a shrine to my memory. I have some slight regret that this did not happen, as I might have become a god, which would have been very chic for an atheist.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher Autobiography, Vol 2: 1914-1944, ch. 3 “China” (1969)
(Source)
Russell visited China, and lectured there, in late 1920; his bout with pneumonia (which led to the above) happened in Spring 1921.
Here is my Creed: I believe in one God, Creator of the Universe. That He governs it by his Providence. That he ought to be worshipped. That the most acceptable Service we can render to him, is doing Good to his other Children. That the Soul of Man is immortal, and will be treated with Justice in another Life respecting its Conduct in this. These I take to be the fundamental Principles of all sound Religion, and I regard them as you do, in whatever Sect I meet with them.
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) American statesman, scientist, philosopher, aphorist
Letter to Ezra Stiles (9 Mar 1790)
(Source)
I believe, with the Quaker preacher, that he who steadily observes those moral precepts in which all religions concur, will never be questioned, at the gates of heaven, as to the dogmas in which they all differ. That on entering there, all these are left behind us, and the Aristideses & Cato’s, the Penns & Tillotsons, Presbyterians and Papists, will find themselves united in all principles which are in concert with the reason of the supreme mind.
Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) American political philosopher, polymath, statesman, US President (1801-09)
Letter to William Canby (18 Sep 1813)
(Source)
Sometimes I believe in God, sometimes I don’t. I think it’s 50-50 maybe. But ever since I’ve had cancer, I’ve been thinking about it more. And I find myself believing a bit more. I kind of — maybe it’s ’cause I want to believe in an afterlife. That when you die, it doesn’t just all disappear. The wisdom you’ve accumulated. Somehow it lives on, but sometimes I think it’s just like an on-off switch. Click and you’re gone. And that’s why I don’t like putting on-off switches on Apple devices.
Steve Jobs (1955-2011) American computer inventor, entrepreneur
(Attrbuted)
Quoted by his biographer, Walter Isaacson, in a 60 Minutes interview (Oct 2011)
The God of Hell should be held in loathing, contempt and scorn. A God who threatens eternal pain should be hated, not loved — cursed, not worshiped. A heaven presided over by such a God must be below the lowest hell. I want no part in any heaven in which the saved, the ransomed and redeemed will drown with shouts of joy the cries and sobs of hell — in which happiness will forget misery, where the tears of the lost only increase laughter and double bliss.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Great Infidels” (1881)
(Source)
As long as we love we will hope to live, and when the one dies that we love we will say: “Oh, that we could meet again,” and whether we do or not it will not be the work of theology. It will be a fact in nature. I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do To Be Saved?” Sec. 11 (1880)
(Source)
Heaven is where those are we love, and those who love us. And I wish to go to no world unless I can be accompanied by those who love me here. Talk about the consolations of this infamous doctrine. The consolations of a doctrine that makes a father say, “I can be happy with my daughter in hell;” that makes a mother say, “I can be happy with my generous, brave boy in hell;” that makes a boy say, “I can enjoy the glory of heaven with the woman who bore me, the woman who would have died for me, in eternal agony.” And they call that tidings of great joy.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do To Be Saved?” Sec. 9 (1880)
(Source)
I believe in one God, and no more; and I hope for happiness beyond this life.
I believe in the equality of man; and I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our fellow-creatures happy.
But, lest it should be supposed that I believe many other things in addition to these, I shall, in the progress of this work, declare the things I do not believe, and my reasons for not believing them.
I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish Church, by the Roman Church, by the Greek Church, by the Turkish Church, by the Protestant Church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.
All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit.
Thomas Paine (1737-1809) American political philosopher and writer The Age of Reason, Part 1, ch. 1 (1794)
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If it’s heaven for climate, it’s hell for company.
J. M. Barrie (1860-1937) Scottish novelist and dramatist [James Matthew Barrie] The Little Minister, ch. 3 “The Night-Watchers” [Jo Cruickshanks] (1891)
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NORTON I: I must confess, I have always wondered what lay beyond life, my dear.
DEATH: Yeah, everybody wonders. And sooner or later everybody gets to find out.
Neil Gaiman (b. 1960) British author, screenwriter, fabulist Sandman, Book 6. Fables and Reflections, # 31 “Three Septembers and a January” (1991-10)
(Source)
As an atheist, I believe that all life is unspeakably precious, because it’s only here for a brief moment, a flare against the dark, and then it’s gone forever. No afterlives, no second chances, no backsies. So there can be nothing crueler than the abuse, destruction or wanton taking of a life. It is a crime no less than burning the Mona Lisa, for there is always just one of each.
So I cannot forgive. Which makes the notion of writing a character who CAN forgive momentarily attractive … because it allows me to explore in great detail something of which I am utterly incapable.
J. Michael (Joe) Straczynski (b. 1954) American screenwriter, producer, author [a/k/a "JMS"]
Usenet, rec.arts.sf.tv.babylon5, “JMS on Compuserve: Gesthemane Questions” (1995-12-04)
(Source)
As long as we love we will hope to live, and when the one dies that we love we will say: “Oh, that we could meet again,” and whether we do or not it will not be the work of theology. It will be a fact in nature. I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do to Be Saved?” Sec. 11 (1880)
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HAMLET:Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet Hamlet, Act 3, sc. 1, l. 84ff (3.1.84-90) (c. 1600)
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It is a bore, I admit, to be past seventy, for you are left for execution, and are daily expecting the death-warrant; but, as you say, it is not anything very capital we quit. We are, at the close of life, only hurried away from stomach-aches, pains in the joints, from sleepless nights and unamusing days, from weakness, ugliness, and nervous tremors; but we shall all meet again in another planet, cured of all our defects.
Sydney Smith (1771-1845) English clergyman, essayist, wit
Letter (1842-09-13) to Lady Holland
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I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation, whose purposes are modeled after our own — a God, in short, who is but a reflection of human frailty. Neither can I believe that the individual survives the death of his body, although feeble souls harbor such thoughts through fear or ridiculous egotism. It is enough for me to contemplate the mystery of conscious life perpetuating itself through all eternity, to reflect upon the marvelous structure of the universe which we can dimly perceive, and to try humbly to comprehend even an infinitesimal part of the intelligence manifested in nature.
Albert Einstein (1879-1955) German-American physicist
“What I Believe,” Forum and Century (Oct 1930)
(Source)
Einstein crafted and recrafted his credo multiple times in this period, and specifics are often muddled by differing translations and by his reuse of certain phrases in later writing. The Forum and Century entry appears to be the earliest. Some important variants:
I cannot conceive of a God who rewards and punishes his creatures, or has a will of the kind that we experience in ourselves. Neither ca I nor would I want to conceive of an individual that survives his physical death; let feeble souls, from fear or absurd egoism, cherish such thoughts. I am satisfied with they mystery of the eternity of life and with the awareness and a glimpse of the marvelous structure of the existing world, together with the devoted striving to comprehend a portion, be it ever so tiny, of the reason that manifests itself in nature.
— "The World As I See It [Mein Weltbild] [tr. Bargmann (1954)]
I cannot conceive of a God who rewards and punishes his creatures, or has a will of the type of which we are conscious in ourselves. An individual who should survive his physical death is also beyond my comprehension, nor do I wish it otherwise; such notions are for the fears or absurd egoism of feeble souls. Enough for me the mystery of the eternity of life, and the inkling of the marvellous structure of reality, together with the single-hearted endeavor to comprehend a portion, be it never so tiny, of the reason that manifests itself in nature.
— "The World As I See It [Mein Weltbild] [tr. Harris (1934)]
To me it suffices to wonder at these secrets and to attempt humbly to grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all there is.
[Es ist mir genug, diese Geheimnisse staunend zu ahnen und zu versuchen, von der erhabenen Struktur des Seienden in Demut ein mattes Abbild geistig zu erfassen.]
— Reduced variant in "My Credo Mein Glaubensbekenntnis]" (Aug 1932)
If people really want to go, and really try all their lives, I think they will get in; for I don’t believe there are any locks on that door, or any guards at the gate. I always imagine it is as it is in the picture, where the shining ones stretch out their hands to welcome poor Christian as he comes up from the river.
Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888) American writer Little Women, ch. 13 [Beth] (1868)
If there is a God who will damn his children forever, I would rather go to hell than to go to heaven and keep the society of such an infamous tyrant. I make my choice now. I despise that doctrine. It has covered the cheeks of this world with tears. It has polluted the hearts of children, and poisoned the imaginations of men.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Liberty of Man, Woman, and Child” (1877)
(Source)
Is it necessary that Heaven should borrow its light from the glare of Hell? Infinite punishment is infinite cruelty, endless injustice, immortal meanness. To worship an eternal gaoler hardens, debases, and pollutes even the vilest soul. While there is one sad and breaking heart in the universe, no good being can be perfectly happy.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Great Infidels” (1881)
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The world is so exquisite with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there’s little good evidence. Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides.
Carl Sagan (1934-1996) American scientist and writer
“In the Valley of the Shadow,” Parade (10 Mar 1996)
I have made up my mind that if there is a God, he will be merciful to the merciful.
Upon that rock I stand.
That he will not torture the forgiving.
Upon that rock I stand.
That every man should be true to himself, and that there is no world, no star, in which honesty is a crime.
Upon that rock I stand.
The honest man, the good woman, the happy child, have nothing to fear, either in this world or the world to come.
Upon that rock I stand.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do to Be Saved?” Sec. 11 (1880)
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Why should we fear that which will come to all that is? We cannot tell, we do not know, which is the greater blessing — life or death. We do not know whether the grave is the end of this life, or the door of another, or whether the night here is not somewhere else at dawn. Neither can we tell which is the more fortunate — the child dying in its mother’s arms, before its lips have learned to form a word, or he who journeys all the length of life’s uneven road, painfully taking the last slow steps with staff and crutch.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Speech (1882-01-08), “At a Child’s Grave,” Congressional Cemetery, Washington, D. C.
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The dead do not suffer. And if they live again, their lives will surely be as good as ours. We have no fear. We are all children of the same mother, and the same fate awaits us all. We, too, have our religion, and it is this: Help for the living, Hope for the dead.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Speech (1882-01-08), “At a Child’s Grave,” Congressional Cemetery, Washington, D. C.
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YESTERDAY This Day’s Madness did prepare;
TO-MORROW’S Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
FitzGerald used the same text for subsequent editions.
Alternate translations:
Ah, fill the Cup: -- what boots it to repeat
How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday,
Why fret about them if To-day be sweet!
[tr. FitzGerald, 1st ed. (1859), # 37]
Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare;
To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 80]
Be on your guard, my friend, for you will be sundered from your soul, you will pass behind the curtain of the secrets of heaven. Drink wine, for you know not whence you come. Be merry, for you know not where you go.
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 180]
O soul, so soon to leave this coil below,
And pass the dread mysterious curtain through, Be of good cheer, and joy you while you may,
You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 40]
Make haste! soon must you quit this life below,
And pass the veil, and Allah's secrets know; Make haste to take your pleasure while you may,
You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 48 or 87]
Ah Brother, but a little while, and Thou shalt find
Thy Lasting Home the 'Secret Veil' behind; -- Rejoice Thy Heart and banish Grief, for know, --
Thy source, Thy Goal, has never been defined.
[tr. Garner (1887), 7.8]
Ah, brother, but a little while and thou shalt find
Eternal rest, the secret veil behind; Rejoice thy heart and banish grief, for know --
Thy source, thy goal, has never been divined.
[tr. Garner (1898), # 148]
'Tis a strange world we came to, You and I,
Whence no man knows, and surely none knows why, Why we remain -- a harder question still,
And still another -- whither when we die?
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]
Bethink thee that soulless and bare thou shalt go;
The veil of God's mysteries to tear thou shalt go: Drink wine, for thou knowest not whence thou hast come;
Live blithe, for thou knowest not where thou shalt go.
[tr. Payne (1898), # 188]
Know this --- that from thy soul thou shalt be separated,
thou shalt pass behind the curtain of the secrets of God. Be happy -- thou knowest not whence thou hast come:
drink wine - thou knowest not whither thou shalt go.
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 26]
Thou shalt be parted from thy soul, and then,
Enter God's veil of mystery again; Be glad! For whence you came you do not know;
Drink! For you wist as little where you go.
[tr. Cadell (1899), # 26]
Soon shall you bid farewell to mortal tie;
Soon shall you read life's deepest mystery. Drink, for you know not when you go, nor where;
Drink, for you know not whence you came, nor why.
[tr. Roe (1906), # 35]
Since from your soul you separate, then know
Behind God's secret veil you will go, too; Drink wine! for you know not whence you have come;
Be jocund! for you know not where you go!
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 136]
Know this, that soon thou diest, and thy soul
The Book of God's Great Secret must unroll; Be happy! knowing not whence thou hast come,
Nor whither thou shalt go. Drink out the Bowl!
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 26]
Know that thou shalt depart, deprived of thy soul; thou
shalt go behind the veil of the mystery of annihilation. Drink wine: thou knowest not whence thou art come.
Be merry! thou knowest not whither thou shalt go.
[tr. Christensen (1927), # 15]
Ye go from soul asunder this ye know,
And that ye creep, behind His curtain low; Hence sing His Name, ye know not whence ye came,
And live sedate, ye know not where to go.
[tr. Tirtha (1941), 9.99]
What, without asking, hither hurried whence?
And, without asking, whither hurried hence! Another and another cup to drown
The Memory of this impertinence.
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967)]
But regardless of whether Hitler or the mass murderer of your choice sincerely regretted his actions in his last moments and made it to Heaven, with all due respect, what difference does it make to you? Apart from the awkward silence if you happen to bump into him there, I mean.
John Russell (contemp.) ("jr") Belief-L (24 Nov. 1999)
A man’s ethical behavior should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties and needs; no religious basis is necessary. Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hopes of reward after death.
Albert Einstein (1879-1955) German-American physicist
“Religion and Science,” New York Times Magazine (9 Nov 1930)
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While you are upon the earth, enjoy the good things that are here (to the end that they were given), and be not melancholy, and wish yourself in Heaven.
John Selden (1584-1654) English jurist, legal scholar, antiquarian, polymath Table Talk, § 104.4 “Pleasure” (1689)
I have so fixed my contemplations on Heaven, that I have almost forgot the Idea of Hell, and am afraid rather to lose the joyes of the one than endure the misery of the other; to be deprived of them is a perfect hell, & needs me thinkes no addition to compleate our afflictions; that terrible terme hath never detained me from sin, nor do I owe any good action to the name thereof: I feare God, yet am not afraid of him, his mercies make me ashamed of my sins, before his judgements afraid thereof: these are the forced and secondary method of his wisedome, which he useth but as the last remedy, and upon provocation, a course rather to deterre the wicked, than incite the vertuous to his worship. I can hardly thinke there was ever any scared into Heaven, they goe the fairest way to Heaven, that would serve God without a Hell, other Mercenaries that crouch unto him in feare of Hell, though they terme themselves the servants, are indeed but the slaves of the Almighty.
Thomas Browne (1605-1682) English physician and author Religio Medici, Part 1, sec. 52 (1643)
(Source)
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
