Every master-work of literature has a prophetic quality, and sending its roots down near to the deepest wells of life is instinct with unconscious kinships. The _Œdipus Coloneus_ is rich in this final glory of art. The whole conception of the sufferer, aged and blind but gifted with spiritual sight, recalls the blind Milton’s sublime address to the Light which “shines inward”; and the thought adds charm to Sophocles’ description of the nightingale[372] which Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid Tunes her nocturnal note. Again, just as the whole scheme suggests _King Lear_, so does the simple vigour of Theseus’ words,[373] when he enters at the terrific close amid the bellowing of the unnatural tempest:— πάντα γὰρ θεοῦ τοιαῦτα χειμάζοντος εἰκάσαι πάρα, recall the “pelting of this pitiless storm”.[374] So too the divine summons[375] which comes “many times, and manifold” to Œdipus brings to mind the call “Samuel! Samuel!” The mystery of Œdipus’ tomb suggests the passing of another august soul: “No man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day,”[376] and of Joseph, named among the faithful, who “when he died, made mention of the departing of the children of Israel; and gave commandment concerning his bones”.[377] This play is deeply religious in the very details of its theme as well as in its tone. Besides the usual orthodox background there is the lovely presentation of a minor local worship—the cult of the Eumenides at Colonus, Sophocles’ native village. The aged poet in his last years seems to have returned with special affection to the simple observances which he had learnt as a boy, and which evoke one of his most characteristic phrases:—[378] τοιαῦτά σοι ταῦτ’ ἐστίν, ὦ ξέν’, οὐ λόγοις τιμώμεν’, ἀλλὰ τῇ ξυνουσίᾳ πλέον,