“All are not just because they do no wrong, But he who will not wrong me when he may, He is the truly just. I praise not them Who, in their petty dealings, pilfer not; But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud, When he might plunder and defy surprise. His be the praise who, looking down with scorn On the false judgment of the partial herd, Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares To be, not to be thought, an honest man.” PASTORAL POETRY. =Theocritus= (flourished 283-263 B.C.).—The pastoral, or bucolic, poetry of the Greeks, which originated in the rude songs of Laconian and Sicilian shepherds, was matured and elevated into a new department of polite composition in the idyls of Theocritus. Born in Sicily, as he tells us in an epigram intended to preface his works, he was tempted to the court of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Here his refreshing pictures of rural scenery were the delight of the Alexandrians, shut in by the walls of their city from the beauties of nature. Theocritus eventually returned to Sicily, and ended his days amid his native fields. (_Symonds’s “Studies of the Greek Poets,” p. 302._) The poetry of Theocritus exhibits originality and refinement, the Doric dialect in which he wrote lending the charm of picturesqueness to his descriptions. Pope commends him for simplicity and truthfulness to nature; Dryden, for “the inimitable tenderness of his passions” and the skill with which he disguised his art. As a delineator of natural scenery, he has no superior among ancient or modern poets.—There are extant thirty idyls and twenty-two epigrams of this poet. We present below Idyl VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF DAPHNIS. “Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as rumor tells, Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the fells. Both chins were gilt with coming beards, both lads could sing and play; Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to say: ‘Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing kine? I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than thine.’ Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made reply: ‘O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and high; But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne’er wilt sing as I.’ MENALCAS. This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with me? DAPHNIS. This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with thee. MENALCAS. But what, for champions such as we, would seem a fitting prize? DAPHNIS. I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother’s self in size. MENALCAS. A lamb I’ll venture never: for aye, at close of day, Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are they. DAPHNIS. Then what shall be the victor’s fee? What wager wilt thou lay? MENALCAS.