οὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηι μελαἰνῃ, πρίν γ' ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπ' ἀκοῦσαι; ἀλλ' ὅγε τερψάμενος νεῖται, καὶ πλεἰονα εἰδώς. ἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθ', ὄς' ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰὄτητι μόγησαν; ἴδμεν δ', ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ. HOM., _Od._, xii. 186. "No one ever rowed past this way in his black ship, before he had listened to the honey-sweet singing of our lips. But he stays pleased, though he may know much. For we know all things which the Greeks and Trojans did in the wide Trojan plain, by the will of the gods, and we know what things take place in the much nourishing earth." And this, remember, is absolutely true. No man ever went past in the black ship,--obeying the grave and sad law of life by which it is appointed for mortals to be victors on the ocean,--but he was tempted, as he drew near that deadly island, wise as he might be, (καὶ πλεἰονα εἰδώς,) by the voices of those who told him that they knew everything which had been done by the will of God, and everything which took place in earth for the service of man. 79. Now observe those two great temptations. You are to know everything that has been done by the will of God: and to know everything that is _vital_ in the earth. And try to realize to yourselves, for a little while, the way in which these two siren promises have hitherto troubled the paths of men. Think of the books that have been written in false explanation of Divine Providence: think of the efforts that have been made to show that the particular conduct which we approve in others, or wish ourselves to follow, is according to the will of God. Think what ghastly convulsions in thought, and vileness in action, have been fallen into by the sects which thought they had adopted, for their patronage, the perfect purposes of Heaven. Think of the vain research, the wasted centuries of those who have tried to penetrate the secrets of life, or of its support. The elixir vitæ, the philosopher's stone, the germ-cells in meteoric iron, 'ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.' But at this day, when we have loosed the last band from the masts of the black ship, and when, instead of plying every oar to escape, as the crew of Homer's Ulysses, we row like the crew of Dante's Ulysses, and of our oars make wings for our foolish flight, E, volta nostra poppe nel mattino De' remi facemmo ale al folle volo--