Thus did he try by force of argument, often the merest sophistry, to conjure away the dread realities of human existence. But when death called for one after another of his children, he realised how futile his doctrine was. Yet it was the best he could adhere to, and he did but share in the cruel disenchantment that comes sooner or later to all who follow a false philosophy of life. The self-deception which makes these systems plausible in the abstract vanishes at the cold touch of death or at a thrill of love from a kindred heart. All that is most sacred in life, its morality and its ideals, the foundations of society and the aspirations of the individual; the problems that vex men as to the ultimate grounds of obligation, beauty and love; the problems of freedom, of evil and of immortality; the need of the human heart for guidance and support can receive no adequate explanation except in the acceptance of integral Christianity--namely Catholicism. Hence the folly of our neo-pagan revival. Paganism was tried and is dead with the souls and the hopes it slew; the future lies with a vigorous fighting Catholicity. It is vain to attempt to resurrect the corpse which Constantine prepared for burial. Wisdom and duty bid us follow the system which our whole nature cries out for: reason alone or sentiment alone is a blind guide; truth lies in the leading of the whole man. Yet the moral greatness which Marcus had attained in spite of all the limitations of his system was made very clear by the universal grief and reverence which was expressed at his death. When his body was brought to Rome the whole city went into mourning. Henceforth we are told men spoke of him no longer by his imperial titles, but old men spoke of him as “Marcus, my son”; young men, as “Marcus, my father”; and men of his own age, as “Marcus, my brother”; such was the affection of all for him. The decreeing of divine honours was not in his case, as it was in that of so many of the Emperors, a formality or a burlesque: it was from the heart; the _vox populi_ proclaimed him “propitious god” before the Senate passed the formal decree. And, truly, as St. Augustine said of Plato, we might well pardon the pagans if they raised a temple to him rather than to the gods they honoured. For more than a century after his death his statue was to be seen amongst the household gods in the hearth-shrines of the whole Western Empire, and men looked askance at a chance defaulter to this cult. He was the model of succeeding Emperors, and Christian writers vied with pagans in their praises of him. Even in our own time that strange, melancholy figure is dear to all that know him: there is a pathos and an interest in his life and thoughts which is unique: “Everyone of us wears mourning in his heart for Marcus Aurelius as though he died but yesterday.”