became clear enough to act as one of the actual forces which played upon
his life. We first meet with it in connection with the philosophy of
Marcus Aurelius and his habit of inward conversation with himself, made
possible by means of the _Logos_, "the reasonable spark in man, common
to him with the gods." "There could be no inward conversation with
oneself such as this, unless there were indeed some one else aware of
our actual thoughts and feelings, pleased or displeased at one's
disposition of oneself." This, in a dim way, seemed a fundamental
necessity of experience--one of those "beliefs, without which life
itself must be almost impossible, principles which had their sufficient
ground of evidence in that very fact." So far Marcus Aurelius. But the
conviction of some august yet friendly companionship in life beyond the
veil of things seen, took form for Marius in a way far more picturesque.
The passage which describes it is one of the finest in the book, and may
be given at length.

"Through a dreamy land he could see himself moving, as if in another
life, and like another person, through all his fortunes and misfortunes,
passing from point to point, weeping, delighted, escaping from various
dangers. That prospect brought him, first of all, an impulse of lively
gratitude: it was as if he must look round for some one else to share
his joy with: for some one to whom he might tell the thing, for his own
relief. Companionship, indeed, familiarity with others, gifted in this
way or that, or at least pleasant to him, had been, through one or
another long span of it, the chief delight of the journey. And was it
only the resultant general sense of such familiarity, diffused through
his memory, that in a while suggested the question whether there had not
been--besides Flavian, besides Cornelius even, and amid the solitude
which in spite of ardent friendship he had perhaps loved best of all
things--some other companion, an unfailing companion, ever at his side