Much of Marvell's philosophy however has not the same vitality, born of personal struggle and discomfiture, but is a mere echo of stoical and pagan views of life and its vanities drawn from Horace and Seneca, who seem to have been his favourite authors. Such a sentiment as the following, from "Appleton House"-- But he, superfluously spread, Demands more room alive than dead; What need of all this marble crust, To impart the wanton mole of dust?-- and from "The Coy Mistress"-- The grave's a fine and private place, But none, methinks, do there embrace-- are mere pagan commonplaces, however daintily expressed. But there is a poem, an idyll in the form of a dialogue between Clorinda and Damon, which seems to contain an original philosophical motive. Idylls in the strict sense of the word are not remarkable for including a moral; or if they do include one it may be said that it is generally bad, and is apt to defend the enjoyment of an hour against the conscience of centuries; but in "Clorinda and Damon," the woman is the tempter, and Damon is obdurate. She invites him to her cave, and describes its pleasures. CLO. ....... A fountain's liquid bell Tinkles within the concave shell. DA. Might a soul bathe there and be clean, Or slake its drought? CLO. What is't you mean? D. Clorinda, pastures, caves, and springs, These once had been enticing things. CLO. And what late change?-- DA. The other day Pan met me. CLO. What did great Pan say? DA. Words that transcend poor shepherds' skill. This poem seems a distinct attempt to make of the sickly furniture of the idyll a vehicle for the teaching of religious truth. Is it fanciful to read in it a poetical rendering of the doctrine of conversion, the change that may come to a careless and sensuous nature by being suddenly brought face to face with the Divine light? It might even refer to some religious experience of Marvell's own: Milton's "mighty Pan," typifying the Redeemer, is in all probability the original.