The golden verses of Pythagoras — Story, Setting & Ideas
Edition facts
Before opening The golden verses of Pythagoras — Story, Setting & Ideas, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 96,757 words, 7 hr 1 min estimated reading time, and 21 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 26.6 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Poetry -- History and criticism,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.
How this score is calculated
- Description quality20 pts
- Title & short description10 pts
- Source metadata20 pts
- Text length15 pts
- Chapters / structure15 pts
- EPUB file integrity20 pts
Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.
Read the Text
t in a passage which has been preserved to us by Eusebius.[18]
In the first ages of Greece, poetry, consecrated to the service of the altars, left the enclosures of the temples only for the instruction of the people: it was as a sacred language in which the priests, entrusted with presiding at the mysteries of religion, interpreted the will of the gods. The oracles, dogmas, moral precepts, religious and civil laws, teachings of all sorts concerning the labours of the body, the operations of the mind, in fact all that which was regarded as an emanation, an order, or a favour from the Divinity, all was written in verse. To this sacred language was given the name _Poetry_, that is to say, the Language of the Gods: a symbolic name which accords with it perfectly, since it expressed at the same time its origin and its usage.[19] It was said to have come from Thrace,[20] and the one who had invented it and caused its first accents to be heard was called Olen.[21] Now these are again two symbolic names perfectly adapted to the idea that one had of this divine science: it was descended from _Thrace_, that is to say, from the Ethereal Space; it was _Olen_ who had invented it, that is to say, the Universal Being.[22] To understand these three etymologies which can be regarded as the fundamental points of the history of poetry, it is necessary to remember, first, that the Phœnicians, at the epoch when they covered not only Greece but the coasts of the rest of Europe with their colonies, brought there their language, and gave their names to the countries of which they had taken possession; secondly, that these names drawn almost always from objects symbolic of their cult, constituted for these countries a sort of sacred geography, which Greece above all others, was faithful in preserving.[23] It was thus (for there is nothing under the sun which cannot find either its model or its copy) when the Europeans took possession of America and colonized it, and carried to those regions their diverse dialects and covered it with names drawn from the mysteries of Christianity. One ought therefore, when one wishes to understand the ancient names of the countries of Greece, those of their heroic personages, those of the mysterious subjects of their cult, to have recourse to the Phœnician dialect which although lost to us can easily be restored with the aid of Hebrew, Aramaic, Chaldean, Syriac, Arabic, and Coptic.
Fabre d'Olivet's Golden Verses of Pythagoras is not a translation alone but a layered commentary that begins with a lengthy discourse on the essence and form of poetry among ancient peoples. The translator, Nayán Louise Redfield, notes in her foreword that d'Olivet received a Pythagorean initiation in 1790, which shaped his later works. The text opens with the Greek maxims Μηδὲν ἄγαν and γνῶθι σεαυτόν, signaling a preoccupation with moderation and self-knowledge that recurs throughout.
The Translator's Frame and the Author's Initiation
Redfield's foreword establishes d'Olivet as a solitary genius whose work was destined for a few devoted followers. She cites Saint Yves d'Alveydre's claim that d'Olivet received his Pythagorean initiation in Germany in 1790, an event that left a profound imprint on his later productions. This biographical detail frames the commentary as the product of an initiated mind, not merely a scholar. The foreword also emphasizes d'Olivet's vast erudition: he mastered Semitic and Aryan languages and even Chinese hieroglyphics during a decade of retirement. Redfield's language—calling the work a “rich Fruit of Wisdom” offered to “Travellers who have turned their Faces to the Dawn”—suggests a spiritual, almost esoteric readership.
Poetry as a Vehicle for Ancient Wisdom
D'Olivet's discourse on poetry argues that the Golden Verses are not merely moral precepts but a poetic expression of profound philosophical truths. He contends that ancient poets used verse to encode knowledge about the universe, the soul, and the divine. The commentary repeatedly stresses that the form of poetry—its rhythm, imagery, and structure—is inseparable from its content. For d'Olivet, the Golden Verses exemplify how poetry can convey metaphysical principles, such as the animation of the universe and the uniformity of nature across all scales. This approach treats the text as a living document of Pythagorean thought rather than a historical artifact.
The Principle of Universal Analogy
A central argument in the excerpts is that the future is a return of the past and that nature is everywhere alike. D'Olivet explains that this principle of analogy allowed ancient sages to infer the nature of the intelligible sphere from the sentient one. He distinguishes this from later astrological superstition, which he dismisses as “false as ridiculous.” Instead, genethlialogy—the science of reading destiny from the stars—rested on the idea that the point of departure in any sphere could reveal the entire course. D'Olivet supports his claims with references to Chaldean, Egyptian, and Sabæan traditions, citing Stanley, Kircher, and Maimonides. This section reveals his method: synthesizing comparative religion, philology, and philosophy to reconstruct a lost science.
Numerical Cycles and Cosmic Time
D'Olivet delves into the numerical cycles used by ancient civilizations to measure cosmic time. He notes that the Indians posited a cycle of 4,320,000 years (the Maha-Youg), while the Chinese and Chaldeans reduced it to 432,000 years, and the Egyptians further to 36,000 years—the revolution of the fixed stars. He contrasts these with modern calculations of 25,867 years, highlighting the gap between ancient and contemporary astronomy. This discussion serves to illustrate the limitations of human knowledge: even with such cycles, one could not foresee the return of events with certainty. D'Olivet's tone here is cautious, acknowledging the conjectural nature of such speculations while still presenting them as part of the Pythagorean tradition.
Readers approaching d'Olivet's work should expect a dense, erudite commentary that moves between philology, cosmology, and esoteric philosophy. The text rewards those who attend to its footnotes and cross-references, which ground its claims in a wide array of ancient sources. The Golden Verses themselves are quoted only sparingly in the excerpts, so the focus remains on d'Olivet's interpretive framework rather than the original poem. This edition, with Redfield's translation and foreword, offers a window into early 19th-century occult scholarship and its attempt to revive Pythagorean wisdom.
Reading about Fabre d’Olivet’s search for a hidden unity beneath Pythagoras’s verses, I remembered nights spent with an old, battered songbook, where every bawdy tune felt like a secret handshake with a stranger three centuries gone. That same hush of recognition came from Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. 5 of 6 — Text and Context, each comic stanza a quiet proof that joy, too, was once a careful philosophy.
There are no reviews for this eBook.
How did this book work for you?
Your answers remain private and are stored only in this browser.