see that the story told by Callimachus marks any advance.  The lovers see each other only a moment in the temple; they do not meet afterward, there is no real courtship, they have no chance to get acquainted with each other’s mind and character, and there is no indication whatever of supersensual, altruistic affection.  Nor was Callimachus the man from whom one would have expected a new gospel of love.  He was a dry old librarian, without originality, a compiler of catalogues and legends, etc.—­eight hundred works all told—­in which even the stories were marred by details of pedantic erudition.  Moreover, there is ample evidence in the extant epigrams that he did not differ from his contemporaries and predecessors in the theory and practice of love.  Instead of having the modern feeling of abhorrence toward any suggestion of [Greek:  paiderastia], he glorified it in the usual Greek style.  The fame he enjoyed as an erotic poet among the coarse and unprincipled Roman bards does not redound to his credit, and he himself tells us unmistakably what he means by love when he calls it a [Greek:  philopaida noson] and declares that fasting is a sure remedy for it (Epigr., 47).

MEDEA AND JASON

Another writer of this period who has been unduly extolled for his insight into the mysteries of love, is Apollonius Rhodius, concerning whom Professor Murray goes so far as to say (382), that “for romantic love on the higher side he is without a peer even in the age of Theocritus."(!) He owes this fame to the story of Medea and Jason, introduced in the third book of his version of the Argonautic expedition (275 seq.).  It begins in the old-fashioned way with Cupid shooting his arrow at Medea’s heart, in which forthwith the destructive passion glows.  Blushes and pallor alternate in her face, and her breast heaves fast and deep as she incessantly stares at Jason with flaming eyes.  She remembers afterwards every detail about his looks and dress, and how he sat and walked.  Unlike all other men he seemed to her.  Tears run down her cheeks at the thought that he might succumb in his combat with the two terrible bulls he will have to tame before he can recover the Golden Fleece.  Even in her dreams she suffers tortures, if she is able to sleep at all.  She is distracted by conflicting desires.  Should she give him the magic salve which would protect his body from harm, or let him die, and die with him?  Should she give up her home, her family, her honor, for his sake and become the topic of scandalous gossip? or should she end it all by committing suicide?  She is on the point of doing so when the thought of all the joys of life makes her hesitate and change her mind.  She resolves to see Jason alone and give him the ointment.  A secret meeting is arranged in the temple of Hecate.  She gets there first, and while waiting every sound of footsteps makes her bosom heave.  At last he comes and at sight of