yment
of sacred and familiar names, just as mere fragments of the words of
Scripture, put together in any form and applied to any subject, have a
power of their own. They are a substitute for poetry and mythology; and
they are also a reform of mythology. The moral of them may be summed up
in a word or two: After death the Judgment; and 'there is some better
thing remaining for the good than for the evil.'

All literature gathers into itself many elements of the past: for
example, the tale of the earth-born men in the Republic appears at first
sight to be an extravagant fancy, but it is restored to propriety when
we remember that it is based on a legendary belief. The art of making
stories of ghosts and apparitions credible is said to consist in the
manner of telling them. The effect is gained by many literary and
conversational devices, such as the previous raising of curiosity,
the mention of little circumstances, simplicity, picturesqueness, the
naturalness of the occasion, and the like. This art is possessed by
Plato in a degree which has never been equalled.

The myth in the Phaedrus is even greater than the myths which have
been already described, but is of a different character. It treats of
a former rather than of a future life. It represents the conflict of
reason aided by passion or righteous indignation on the one hand, and
of the animal lusts and instincts on the other. The soul of man has
followed the company of some god, and seen truth in the form of the
universal before it was born in this world. Our present life is the
result of the struggle which was then carried on. This world is relative
to a former world, as it is often projected into a future. We ask the
question, Where were men before birth? As we likewise enquire, What will
become of them after death? The first question is unfamiliar to us, and
therefore seems to be unnatural; but if we survey the whole human race,
it has been as influential and as widely spread as the other. In the
Phaedrus it is really a figure of speech in which the 'spiritual
combat' of this life is represented. The majesty and power of the whole
passage--especially of what may be called the theme or proem (beginning
'The mind through all her being is immortal')--can only be rendered very
inadequately in another language.

The myth in the Statesman relates to a former cycle of existence, in
which men were born of the earth, and by the reversal of the earth's
motion had their