THE

HEROIC ENTHUSIASTS

(_GLI EROICI FURORI_)

=An Ethical Poem=

BY GIORDANO BRUNO

=PART THE SECOND=

TRANSLATED BY

L. WILLIAMS

LONDON

BERNARD QUARITCH

PICCADILLY

1889

LONDON:

G. NORMAN AND SON, PRINTERS, HART STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 

PREFACE. 

The second part of "The Heroic Enthusiasts" which I am now sending tothe press is on the same subject as the first, namely the struggles ofthe soul in its upward progress towards purification and freedom, andthe author makes use of lower things to picture and suggest the higher. The aim of the Heroic Enthusiast is to get at the Truth and to see theLight, and he considers that all the trials and sufferings of this life, are the cords which draw the soul upwards, and the spur which quickensthe mind and purifies the will. 

The blindness of the soul may signify the descent into the materialbody, and "visit the various kingdoms" may be an allusion to the soulpassing through the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms before itarrives at man. 

It is interesting to note that in the first part of "The HeroicEnthusiasts" (page 122), Bruno makes a distinct allusion to the power ofsteam, and in the second part, one might almost think, that in using thenumber nine in connexion with the blind men, he intended a reference toelectricity, for we read in "The Secret Doctrine, " by H. P. Blavatsky, "There exists an universal _agent unique_ of all forms and of life, thatis called Od, Ob, and Aour, active and passive, positive and negative, like day and night; it is the first light in creation; and the firstlight of the primordial Elo-him--the A-dam, --male and female, or, (scientifically) Electricity and Life. Its universal value is nine, forit is the ninth letter of the alphabet and the ninth door of the fiftyportals or gateways, that lead to the concealed mysteries of being.... Od is the pure life-giving Light or magnetic fluid. "

The notices of the press upon the first half of this work, were for themost part such, as to lead me to hope that the appearance of the secondpart will meet with a favourable reception. 

When I first began this translation little was known about GiordanoBruno except through the valuable works of Sig. Berti and Sig. Levi, andsince then Mrs. Firth has given us a life of the Nolan, written inEnglish, and several able articles in the magazines have been published, in one of which, by C. E. Plumptre (_Westminster Review_, August, 1889), an interesting parallel is drawn between Shelley and Bruno. 

I will close this short notice with a sentence from an article in the_Nineteenth Century_, September, 1889, entitled "Criticism as a trade. ""There is probably no author who does not feel how much he owes to thewriters who have reviewed his books, whether he has occasion toacknowledge it or not. It is humiliating to find how many errors remainin writings that seemed comparatively free from them. Everyone who knowshis subject, and has any modesty, is aware that there are defects in hiswork which his own eye has not seen; and he is more than grateful forthe correction of every error that is pointed out to him by an honestcensor. " If this is the case with authors who produce original work, itmay be still more aptly said of translators, especially of those whoattempt to translate books so full of difficulties as those presented inthe works of Giordano Bruno. 

L. WILLIAMS. 

SECOND PART OF

THE

HEROIC ENTHUSIASTS. 

=First Dialogue. =

_Interlocutors:_

CESARINO. MARICONDO. 

1. 

CES. It is said that the best and most excellent things are in the worldwhen the whole universe responds from every part, perfectly, to thosethings; and this it is said takes place as the planets arrive at Aries, being when that one of the eighth sphere again reaches the upperinvisible firmament, where is also the other Zodiac;[A] and low and evilthings prevail when the opposite disposition and order supervene, andthus through the power of change comes the continual mutation of likeand unlike, from one opposite to another. The revolution then of thegreat year of the world is that space of time in which, through the mostdiverse customs and effects, and by the most opposite and contrarymeans, it returns to the same again. As we see in particular years suchas that of the sun, where the beginning of an opposite tendency is theend of one year, and the end of this is the beginning of that. Thereforenow that we have been in the dregs of the sciences, which have broughtforth the dregs of opinions, which are the cause of the dregs of customsand of works, we may certainly expect to return to the better condition. 

 [A] Astronomers distinguish between a fixed and intellectual zodiac; and the movable and visible zodiac. According to the former, Aries still stands as the first of the signs; that is to say, the first thirty degrees of the zodiacal circle, reckoning from the equinoctial point in spring, are allotted to Aries in the intellectual zodiac.... Astronomers generally choose to reckon by the fixed and intellectual zodiac. --(Drummond's "Oedipus Judaicus. ")

MARICONDO. Know, my brother, that this succession and order of things ismost true and most certain; but as regards ourselves in all ordinaryconditions whatever, the present afflicts more than the past, nor canthese two together console, but only the future, which is always in hopeand expectation as you may see designated in this figure which is takenfrom the ancient Egyptians, who made a certain statue which is a bust, upon which they placed three heads, one of a wolf which looks behind, one of a lion with the face turned half round, and the third of a dogwho looks straight before him; to signify that things of the pastafflict by means of thoughts, but not so much as things of the presentwhich actually torment, while the future ever promises something better;therefore behold the wolf that howls, the lion that roars and the dogthat barks (applause). 

CES. What means that legend that is written above?

MAR. See, that above the wolf is Lam, above the lion Modo, above the dogPraeterea, which are words signifying the three parts of time. 

CES. Now read the tablet. 

MAR. I will do so. 

41. 

 A wolf, a lion, and a dog appear At dawn, at midday, and dark night. That which I spent, retain and for myself procure, So much was given, is given, and may be given; For that which I did, I do, and have to do. In the past, in the present and in the future, I do repent, torment myself and re-assure, For the loss, in suffering and in expectation. With sour, with bitter and with sweet Experience, the fruits, and hope, Threatens, afflict, and comforts me. The age I lived, do live and am to live, Affrights me, shakes me and upholds In absence, presence and in prospect. Much, too much and sufficient Of the past, of now, and of to come, Put me in fear, in anguish and in hope. 

CES. This is precisely the humour of a furious lover, though the samemay be said of nearly all mortals who are seriously affected in any way. We cannot say that this accords with all conditions in a general way, but only with those mortals who were, and who are, wretched. So that tohim who sought a kingdom and obtained it, belongs the fear of losing thesame; and to one who has laboured to secure the fruits of love, such asthe special grace of the beloved, belongs the tooth of jealousy andsuspicion. Thus, too, with the states of the world; when we findourselves in darkness and in adversity we may surely prophecy light andprosperity, and when we are in a state of happiness and discipline, doubtless we have to expect the advent of ignorance and distress. As inthe case of Hermes Trismegistus, who, seeing Egypt in all the splendourof the sciences and of occultism, so that he considered that men wereconsorting with gods and spirits and were in consequence most pious, hemade that prophetic lament to Asclepios, saying that the darkness of newreligions and cults must follow, and that of the then present thingsnothing would remain but idle tales and matter for condemnation. So theHebrews, when they were slaves in Egypt, and banished to the deserts, were comforted by their prophets with the hope of liberty and there-acquisition of their country; when they were in authority andtranquillity they were menaced with dispersion and captivity. And as inthese days there is no evil nor injury to which we are not subject, sothere is no good nor honour that we may not promise ourselves. Thus doesit happen to all the other generations and states, the which, if theyendure and be not destroyed entirely by the force of vicissitude, it isinevitable that from evil they come to good, from good to evil, from lowestate to high, from high to low, out of obscurity into splendour, outof splendour into obscurity, for this is the natural order of things;outside of which order, if another should be found which destroys orcorrects it, I should believe it and not dispute it, for I reason withnone other than a natural spirit. [B]

 [B] As in long-drawn systole and long-drawn diastole, must the period of Faith, alternate with the period of Denial; must the vernal growth, the summer luxuriance of all Opinions, Spiritual Representations and Creations, be followed by, and again follow the autumnal decay, the winter dissolution. --("Sartor Resartus. ")

MAR. We know that you are not a theologian but a philosopher, and thatyou treat of philosophy and not of theology. 

CES. It is so. But let us see what follows. 

II. 

CES. I see a smoking thurible, supported by an arm, and the legend whichsays: "Illius aram, " and then the following:--

42. 

 Now who shall say the breath of my desire Of high and holy worship is demeaned If decked in divers forms ornate she come Through vows I offer to the shrine of Fame? And if another work should call, and lead me on, Who would aver that more it might beseem If that, of Heaven so loved and eulogized, Should hold me not in its captivity. Leave, oh leave me, every other wish, Cease, fretting thoughts, and give me peace; Why draw me forth from looking at the sun, From looking at the sun that I so love. You ask in pity, wherefore lookest thou On that, on which to look is thy undoing? Wherefore so captivated by that light? And I will say, because to me this pain Is dearer than all other pleasures are. 

MAR. In reference to this I told you that although one should beattached to corporeal and external beauty yet he may honourably andworthily be so attached; provided that, through this material beauty, which is a glittering ray of spiritual form and action, of which it isthe trace and shadow, he comes to raise himself to the consideration andworship of divine beauty, light and majesty; so that, from these visiblethings his heart becomes exalted towards those things which are moreexcellent in themselves and grateful to the purified soul, in so far asthey are removed from matter and sense. Ah me! he will say, if beauty soshadowy, so dim, so fugitive, painted on the surface of bodily matterpleases me so much, and moves my affections so much, and stamps upon myspirit I know not what of reverence for majesty, captivates me, softlybinds me, and draws me, so that I find nothing that comes within thesenses that satisfies me so much, --how will it be with thesubstantially, originally, primitively beautiful? How will it be with mysoul, the divine intellect, and the law of nature? It is right, then, that the contemplation of this vestige of light lead me, through thepurification of my soul, to the imitation, and to conformity andparticipation in that which is more worthy and higher, into which I amtransformed and unto which I unite myself: for I am certain thatnature, which has placed this beauty before my eyes and has gifted mewith an interior sense, through which I am able to infer a deeper andincomparably greater beauty, wills that I be promoted to the altitudeand eminence of more excellent kinds. Nor do I believe that my truedivinity, as she shows herself to me in symbols and vestiges, will scornme if in symbols and vestiges I honour her and sacrifice to her; as myheart and affections are always so ordered as to look higher. For whomay he be, that can honour in essence and real substance, if in suchmanner he cannot understand it?

 It is in and through Symbols that man, consciously or unconsciously, lives, works, and has his being. For is not a Symbol ever, to him who has eyes for it, some dimmer or clearer revelation, of the Godlike?--("Sartor Resartus. ")

CES. Right well do you demonstrate how, to men of heroic spirit, allthings turn to good and how they are able to turn captivity into greaterliberty, and the being vanquished into an occasion for greater victory. Well dost thou know that the love of corporeal beauty to those who arewell disposed, not only does not keep them back from higher enterprises, but rather does it lend wings to arrive at these, when the necessity forlove is converted into a study of the virtuous, through which the loveris forced into those conditions in which he is worthy of the thing lovedand perchance of even a still higher, better and more beautiful thing;so that he comes to be either contented to have gained that which hedesires, or so satisfied with its own beauty, that he can despise thatof others, which comes to be, by him, vanquished and overcome, so thathe either remains tranquil, or else he aspires to things more excellentand grand. And so will the heroic spirit ever go on trying until itbecomes raised to the desire of divine beauty itself, withoutsimilitude, figure, symbol, or kind, if it be possible, and what is moreone knows that he will reach that height. 

MAR. You see, Cesarino, how this enthusiast is justified in his angeragainst those who reproach him with being in captivity to a low beauty, to which he dedicates his vows, and attributes these forms, so that heis deaf to those voices which call him to nobler enterprises: for theselow things are derived from those, and are dependent upon them, so thatthrough these you may gain access to those, according to their owndegrees. These, if they be not God, are things divine, are living imagesof Him, in the which, if He sees Himself adored, He is not offended. For we have a charge from the supernal spirit which says: Adoratesgabellum pedum eius. And in another place a divine messenger says:Adorabimus ubi steterunt pedes eius. 

CES. God, the divine beauty, and splendour shines and _is_ in allthings; and therefore it does not appear to me an error to admire Him inall things, according to the way in which we have communion with them. Error it would surely be if we should give to another the honour due toHim alone. But what means the enthusiast when he says, "Leave, leave me, every other wish"?

MAR. That he banishes every thought presented to him by differentobjects, which have not the power to move him and which would rob him ofthe sight of the sun which comes to him through that window more thanthrough others. 

CES. Why, importuned by thoughts, does he continually gaze at thatsplendour which destroys him, and yet does not satisfy him, as ittorments him ever so fiercely?

MAR. Because all our consolations in this state of controversy are notwithout their discouragements, however vast those consolations may be. Just as the fear of a king for the loss of his kingdom, is greater thanthat of a mendicant who is in peril of losing ten farthings; and moreimportant is the care of a prince over a republic, than that of a rusticover a herd of swine; as perchance the pleasures and delights of the oneare greater than the pleasures and delights of the other. Therefore theloving and aspiring higher, brings with it greater glory and majesty, with more care, thought, and pain: I mean in this state, where the oneopposite is always joined to the other, finding the greatest contrarietyalways in the same genus, and consequently about the same subject, although the opposites cannot be together. And thus proportionally inthe love of the supernal Eros, as the Epicurean poet declares of vulgarand animal desire when he says:--

 Fluctuat incertis erroribus ardor amantum, Nec constat, quid primum oculis, manibusque fruantur: Quod petiere, premunt arte, faciuntque dolorem Corporis, et dentes inlidunt saepe labellis, Osculaque adfigunt, quia non est pura voluptas, Et stimuli subsunt, qui instigant laedere id ipsum, Quodcunque est, rabies, unde illa haec germina surgunt. Sed leviter poenas frangit Venus inter amorem, Blandaque refraenat morsus admixta voluptas; Namque in eo spes est, unde est ardoris origo, Restingui quoque posse ab eodem corpore flammam. 

Behold, then, with what condiments the skill and art of nature works, so that one is wasted with the pleasure of that which destroys him, ishappy in the midst of torment, and tormented in the midst of all thesatisfactions. For nothing is produced absolutely from a homoeogeneous(pacifico) principle, but all from opposite principles, through thevictory and dominion of one part of the opposites, and there is nopleasure of generation on one side without the pain of corruption on theother: and where these things which are generated and corrupted arejoined together and as it were compose the same subject, the feeling ofdelight and of sadness are found together; so that it comes to be calledmore easily delight than sadness, if it happens that this predominates, and solicits the senses with greater force. 

III. 

CES. Now let us take into consideration the following image which isthat of a phoenix, which burns in the sun, and the smoke from whichalmost obscures the brightness of that by which it is set on fire, andhere is the motto which says: Neque simile, nec par mar. 

43. 

MAR. :

 This phoenix set on fire by the bright sun, Which slowly, slowly to extinction goes, The while she, girt with splendour burning lies; Yields to her star antagonistic fief Through that which towards the sky to Heaven ascends. Black smoke, and sombre fog of murky hue Concealing thus his radiance from our eyes, And veiling that which makes her burn and shine. And so my soul, illumined and inflamed By radiance divine, would fain display The brightness of her own effulgent thought; The lofty concept of her song sends forth. In words which do but hide the glorious light, [C]While I dissolve and melt and am destroyed. Ah me! this lowering cloud, this smoky fire of words Abases that which it would elevate. 

 [C] But not till the whole personality of the man is dissolved and melted--not until it is held by the divine fragment which has created it, as a mere subject for the grave experiment and experience--not until the whole nature has yielded and become subject unto its higher self, can the bloom open. --("Light on the Path. ")

CES. This fellow then says that as this phoenix set on fire by the sunand accustomed to light and flame comes to send upwards that smoke whichobscures him who has rendered her so luminous, so he, the inflamed andilluminated enthusiast, through that which he does in praise of such anillustrious subject which has warmed his heart and which shines in histhought, comes rather to conceal it than to render it light for light, sending forth that smoke the effect of the flame, in which thesubstance of himself is resolved. 

MAR. I, without weighing and comparing the studies of that fellow, repeat what I said to you the other day, that praise is one of thegreatest oblations that human affection can offer to an object. Andleaving on one side the proposition of the Divine, tell me, who wouldhave known of Achilles, Ulysses, and all the other Greek and Trojanchiefs? Who would have heard of all those great soldiers, the wise andthe heroes of the earth, if they had not been placed amongst the starsand deified by the oblation of praise which has lighted the fire on thealtar of the heart of illustrious poets and other singers, so thatusually, the sacrificant, the victim and the sanctified deity, allmounted to the skies, through the hand and the vow of a worthy andlawful priest?

CES. Well sayest thou "of a worthy and lawful priest, " for the world isat present full of apostate ones, the which, as they are for the mostpart unworthy themselves, sing the praises of other unworthy ones, sothat, asini asinos fricant. But Providence wills that these, instead ofrising to the sky, should go together to the shades of Orcus, so thatnaught is the glory of him who extols and of him who is extolled; forthe one has woven a statue of straw, or carved the trunk of a tree, orcast a piece of chalk, and the other, the idol of shame and infamy, knows not that there is no need to wait for the keen tooth of the ageand the scythe of Saturn in order to be put down, for through thoseself-same praises he gets buried alive then and there, while he is beingpraised, saluted, hailed, and presented. Just as it happened in acontrary way, so that much-praised Moecenatus, who, if he had had noother glory than a soul inclined to protect and favour the Muses, forthis alone merited, that the genius of so many illustrious poets shoulddo him homage, and place him in the number of the most famous heroes whohave trod this earth. His own studies and his own brightness made himprominent and grand, and not the being born of a royal race, and not thebeing grand secretary and councillor of Augustus. That, I say, whichmade him illustrious was the having made himself worthy to fulfil thepromise of that poet who says:--

 Fortunati ambo, si quid mea carmina possunt, Nulla dies nunquam memori vos eximet aevo, Dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum Accolet, imperiumque pater romanus habebit. 

MAR. I remember what Seneca says in certain letters where he refers tothe words of Epicurus to a friend, which are these: "If the love ofglory is dear to thy breast, these letters of mine will make thee morefamous and known than all those other things which thou honourest, bywhich thou art honoured, and of which thou mayest boast. The same mightHomer have said if Achilles or Ulysses had presented themselves beforehim, or Eneas and his offspring before Virgil; as that moral philosopherwell said; Domenea is more known through the letters of Epicurus, thanall the magicians, satraps and royalties upon whom depended his title ofDomenea and the memory of whom was lost in the depths of oblivion. Atticus does not survive because he was the son-in-law of Agrippa andancestor of Tiberius, but through the epistles of Tully; Drusus, theancestor of Cæsar, would not be found amongst the number of great namesif Cicero had not inserted it. Many, many years may pass over our heads, and in all that time not many geniuses will keep their heads raised. 

Now to return to the question of this enthusiast, who, seeing a phoenixset on fire by the sun, calls to mind his own cares, and laments thatlike the phoenix he sends, in exchange for the light and heat received, a sluggish smoke from the holocaust of his melted substance. Whereforenot only can we never discourse about things divine, but we cannot eventhink of them without detracting from, rather than adding to the gloryof them; so that the best thing to be done with regard to them is, thatman, in the presence of other men, should rather praise himself for hisearnestness and courage, than give praise to anything, as complete andperfected action; seeing that no such thing can be expected where thereis progress towards the infinite, where unity and infinity are the samething and cannot be followed by the other number, because there is nounity from another unity, nor is there number from another number andunity, because they are not the same absolute and infinite. Thereforewas it well said by a theologian that as the fountain of light farexceeds not only our intellects, but also the divine, it is decorousthat one should not discourse with words, but that with silence alone itshould be magnified. [D]

 [D] Now, it may be asked, what is the state of a man who followeth the true Light to the utmost of his power? I answer truly, it will never be declared aright, for he who is not such a man, can neither understand nor know it, and he who is, knoweth it indeed; but he cannot utter it, for it is unspeakable. --("Theologia Germanica. ")

CES. Not, verily, with such silence as that of the brutes who are in thelikeness and image of men, but of those whose silence is more exaltedthan all the cries and noise and screams of those who may be heard. [E]

 [E] "Speech is of time, silence is of eternity. "--("Sartor Resartus. ")

IV. 

MAR. Let us go on and see what the rest means. 

CES. Say, if you have seen and considered it, what is the meaning ofthis fire in the form of a heart with four wings, two of which have eyesand the whole is girt with luminous rays and has round about it thisquestion: Nitimur incassum?

MAR. I remember well, that it signifies the state of the mind, heart andspirit and eyes of the enthusiast, but read the sonnet!

44. 

 [F]Splendour divine, to which this mind aspires, The intellect alone cannot unveil. The heart, which those high thoughts would animate, Makes not itself their lord; nor spirit, which Should cease from pleasure for a space, Can ever from those heights withdraw. The eyes which should be closed at night in sleep, Awake remain, open, and full of tears. Ah me, my lights! where are the zeal and art With which to tranquillize the afflicted sense? Tell me my soul; what time and in what place Shall I thy deep transcendent woe assuage? And thou my heart, what solace can I bring As compensation to thy heavy pain? When, oh unquiet and perturbed mind, Wilt thou the soul for debt and dole receive With heart, with spirit and the sorrowing eyes?

 [F] Let no one suppose that we may attain to this true light and perfect knowledge by hearsay, or by reading and study, nor yet by high skill and great learning. --("Theologia Germanica. ")

The mind which aspires to the divine splendour flees from the society ofthe crowd and retires from the multitude of subjects, as much as fromthe community of studies, opinions and sentences; seeing that the perilof contracting vices and illusions is greater, according to the numberof persons with whom one is allied. In the public shows, said the moralphilosopher, by means of pleasure, vices are more easily engendered. Ifone aspires to the supreme splendour, let him retire as much as he can, from union and support, into himself (Di sorte che non sia simile amolti, per che son molti; e non sia nemico di molti per che sondissimili), so that he be not like unto many, because they are many; andbe not adverse to many, because they are dissimilar; if it be possible, let him retain the one and the other; otherwise he will incline to thatwhich seems to him best. Let him associate either with those whom he canmake better or with those through whom he may be made better, throughbrightness which he may impart to those or that he may receive fromthem. Let him be content with one ideal rather than with the ineptmultitude. Nor will he hold that he has gained little, when he hasbecome such an one who is wise unto himself, remembering what Democritussays: Unus mihi pro populo est, et populus pro uno; and what Epicurussaid to a companion of his studies, writing to him: "Haec tibi, nonmultis! Satis enim magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus. "

The mind, then, which aspires high, leaves, for the first thing, caringabout the crowd, considering that that divine light despises strivingand is only to be found where there is intelligence, and yet not everyintelligence, but that which is amongst the few, the chief, the firstamong the first, the principal one. 

CES. How do you mean that the mind aspires high? For example, by lookingat the stars? At the empyreal heaven above the ether?

MAR. Certainly not! but by plunging into the depths of the mind, forwhich there is no great need to open the eyes to the sky, to raise thehands, to direct the steps to the temple, nor sing to the ears ofstatues in order to be the better heard, but to come into the inner selfbelieving that, God is near, present and within, more fully than manhimself, [G] being soul of souls, life of lives, essence of essences: forthat which you see above or below, or round about, or however you pleaseto say it, of the stars, are bodies, are created things, similar to thisglobe on which we are, and in which the divinity is present neither morenor less than he is in this globe of ours or in ourselves. This is how, then, one must begin to withdraw oneself from the multitude intooneself. One ought to arrive at such a point to despise and not tooverestimate every labour, so that, the more the desires and the vicescontend with each other inwardly and the vicious enemies disputeoutwardly, so much the more should one breathe and rise, and withspirit, if possible, surmount this steep hill. Here there is no need forother arms and shield than the majesty of an unconquered soul and atolerant spirit, which maintains the quality and meaning of that lifewhich proceeds from science and is regulated by the art of consideringattentively things low and high, divine and human, in the which consiststhat highest good, and in reference to this, a moral philosopher wroteto Lucillus that one must not linger between Scylla and Charybdis, penetrate the wilds of Candavia and the Apennines or lose oneself in thesandy plains, because the road is as sure and as blythe as Natureherself could make it. "It is not, " says he, "gold and silver that makesone like God, because these are not treasure to Him; nor vestments, forGod is naked; nor ostentation and fame, for He shows Himself to few, andperhaps not one knows Him, and certainly many, and more than many, havea bad opinion of Him. Not all the various conditions of things which weusually admire, for not those things of which we desire to have copies, make one rich, but the contempt for those things. "

 [G] For, in this (degree), God cannot be tasted, felt, seen, because he is more ourselves than ourselves, is not distinct from us. --("Spiritual Torrents. ")

CES. Well. But tell me in what manner will this fellow tranquillize thesenses, assuage the woes of the spirit, compensate the heart and giveits just debts to the mind, so that with this aspiration of his he comenot to say: "Nitimur incassum"?

MAR. He will be present in the body in such wise that the best part ofhimself will be absent from it, and will join himself by an indissolublesacrament to divine things, in such a way that he will not feel eitherlove or hatred of things mortal. Considering himself as master, and thathe ought not to be servant and slave to his body, which he would regardonly as the prison which holds his liberty in confinement, the gluewhich smears his wings, chains which bind fast his hands, stocks whichfix his feet, veil which hides his view. Let him not be servant, captive, ensnared, chained, idle, stolid and blind, for the body whichhe himself abandons cannot tyrannize over him, so that thus, the spiritin a certain degree comes before him as the corporeal world, and matteris subject to the divinity and to nature. Thus will he become strongagainst fortune, magnanimous towards injuries, intrepid towards poverty, disease and persecution. 

CES. Well is the heroic enthusiast instructed!

V. 

CES. Close by is to be seen that which follows. See the wheel of time, which moves round its own centre, and there is the legend: "Manensmoveor. " What do you mean by that?

MAR. This means that movement is circular where motion concurs withrest, seeing that in orbicular motion upon its own axis and about itsown centre is understood rest and stability according to rightmovement, or, rest of the whole and movement of the parts; and from theparts which move in a circle is understood two different kinds ofmotion, inasmuch as some parts rise to the summit and others from thesummit descend to the base successively; others reach the mediumdifferences, and others the extremes of high and low. And all this seemsto me suitably expressed in the following:

45. 

 That which keeps my heart both open and concealed, Beauty imprints and honesty dispels; Zeal holds me fast; all other care comes to me By that same path whence all care to the soul doth come: Seek I myself from pain to disengage, Hope sustains me then, whoso scourges, tires;--(altrui rigor mi lassa) Love doth exalt and reverence abase me What time I yearn towards the highest good. High thoughts, holy desires, and mind intent Upon the labours and the cunning of the heart Towards the immense divine immortal object, So do, that I be joined, united, fed, That I lament no more; that reason, sense, attend, Discourse and penetrate to other things. 

So that the continual movement of one part supposes and carries with itthe movement of the whole, in such a way that the attraction of theposterior parts is consequent upon the repulsion of the anterior parts;thus the movement of the superior parts results of necessity from thatof the inferior, and from the raising of one opposite power, follows thedepression of the other opposite. Therefore the heart, which signifiesall the affections generally, comes to be concealed and open, held byzeal, raised by magnificent thoughts, sustained by hope, weakened byfear, and in this state and condition will it ever be seen and found. 

VI. 

CES. That is all well. Let us come to that which follows. I see a shipfloating on the waves; its ropes are attached to the shore and there isthe legend: Fluctuat in portu. Deliberate about the signification ofthis, and when you are decided about it, explain. 

MAR. Both the legend and the figure have a certain connexion with thepresent legend and figure, as may be easily understood, if one considersit a little. But let us read the sonnet. 

46. 

 If I by gods, by heroes and by men Be re-assured, so that I not despair, Nor fear, pain, nor the impediments Of death of body, joy and happiness, Yet must I learn to suffer and to feel. And that I may my pathways clearly see, Let doubts arise, and dolour, and the woe Of vanished hopes, of joy and all delight. But if _he_ should behold, should grant, and should attend My thoughts, my wishes, and my reasoning, Who makes them so uncertain, hot, and vague, Such dear conceits, such acts and speech, Will not be given nor done to him, who stays From birth, through life, to death in sheltered home. 

 Non dà, non fa, non ha qualunque stassi De l'orto, vita e morte a le magioni. 

From what we have considered and said in the preceding discourses one isable to understand these sentiments, especially where it is shown thatthe sense of low things is diminished and annulled whenever the superiorpowers are strongly intent upon a more elevated and heroic object. Thepower of contemplation is so great, as is noted by Jamblichus, that ithappens sometimes, not only that the soul ceases from inferior acts, butthat it leaves the body entirely. The which I will not understandotherwise than in such various ways as are explained in the book ofthirty seals, wherein are produced so many methods of contraction, ofwhich some infamously, others heroically operate, that one learns not tofear death, suffers not pain of body, feels not the hindrances ofpleasures: wherefore the hope, the joy, and the delight of the superiorspirit are of so intense a kind that they extinguish all those passionswhich may have their origin in doubt, in pain and all kinds of sadness. 

CES. But what is that, of which he requests that it consider thosethoughts which it has rendered so uncertain, fulfil those desires whichit has made so ardent, and listen to those discourses which it hasrendered so vague?

MAR. He means the Object, which he beholds when it makes itself present;for to see the Divine is to be seen by it, as to see the sun concurswith the being seen of the sun. Equally, to be heard by the Divine, isprecisely to listen to it, and to be favoured by it, is the same as tooffer to it; for from the one immoveable and the same, proceed thoughtsuncertain and certain, desires ardent and appeased, and reasonings validand vain, according as the man worthily or unworthily puts them beforehimself, with the intellect, the affections and actions. As that samepilot may be said to be the cause of the sinking or of the safety of theship, according as he is present in it or absent from it; with thisdifference, that the pilot through his defectiveness or his efficiencyruins or saves the ship; but the Divine potency which is all in all doesnot proffer or withhold except through assimilation or rejection byoneself. [H]

 [H] Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. --("St. Matthew. ")

VII. 

MAR. It seems to me that the following figure is closely connected andlinked with the above; there are two stars in the form of two radianteyes, with the legend: Mors et vita. 

CES. Read the sonnet!

MAR. I will do so:

47. 

 Writ by the hand of Love may each behold Upon my face the story of my woes. But thou, so that thy pride no curb may know, And I, unhappy one, eternally might rest, Thou dost torment, by hiding from my view Those lovely lights beneath the beauteous lids. Therefore the troubled sky's no more serene, Nor hostile baleful shadows fall away. By thine own beauty, by this love of mine (So great that e'en with this it may compare), Render thyself, oh Goddess, unto pity! Prolong no more this all-unmeasured woe, Ill-timed reward for such a love as this. Let not such rigour with such splendour mate If it import thee that I live! Open, oh lady, the portals of thine eyes, And look on me if thou wouldst give me death!

Here, the face upon which the story of his woes appears is the soul; inso far as it is open to receive those superior gifts, for the which ithas a potential aptitude, without the fulness of perfection and actwhich waits for the dew of heaven. Thus was it well said: Anima measicut terra sine aqua tibi; and again: Os meum operui; and again:Spiritum, quia mandata tua desiderabam. Then "pride which knows no curb"is said in metaphor and similitude, as God is sometimes said to bejealous, angry, or that He sleeps, and that signifies the difficultywith which He grants so much even as to show his shoulders, which is themaking himself known by means of posterior things and effects. So thelights are covered with the eyelids, the troubled sky of the human minddoes not clear itself by the removal of the metaphors and enigmas. Besides which, because he does not believe that all which is not, couldnot be, he prays the divine light, that by its beauty, which ought notto be entirely concealed, at least according to the capacity of whoeverbeholds it, and by his love, which, perchance, is equal to so muchbeauty (equal, he means, of the beauty, in so far as he can comprehendit) that it surrender itself to pity, that is, that it should do asthose who are compassionate, and who from being capricious and gloomybecome gracious and affable and that it prolong not the evil whichresults from that privation, and not allow that its splendour, for whichit is so much desired, should appear greater than that love by means ofwhich it communicates itself, seeing that in it all the perfections arenot only equal but are also the same. In fine, he begs that it will nofurther sadden by privation, for it can kill with the glance of its eyesand can also with those same give him life. 

CES. Does he mean that death of lovers, which comes from intense joy, called by the Kabalists, mors osculi, which same is eternal life, whicha man may anticipate in this life and enjoy in eternity?

MAR. He does. 

VIII. 

MAR. It is time to proceed to the consideration of the following design, similar to those previously brought forward, and with which it has acertain affinity. There is an eagle, which with two wings cleaves thesky; but I do not know how much and in what manner it comes to beretarded by the weight of a stone which is tied to its leg. There is thelegend: Scinditur incertum. It is certain that it signifies themultitude, number and character (volgo) of the powers of the soul, toexemplify which, that verse is taken: Scinditur incertum studia incontraria vulgus. The whole of which character (volgo) in general isdivided into two factions; although subordinate to these, others are notwanting, of which some appeal to the high intelligence and splendour ofrectitude, while others incite and force in a certain manner to the low, to the uncleanness of voluptuousness and compliance with naturaldesires. Therefore says the sonnet:

48. 

 I would do well--to me 'tis not allowed. With me my sun is not, although I be with him, For being with him, I'm no more with myself: The farther from myself--the nearer unto him; The nearer unto him, the farther from myself. Once to enjoy, doth cost me many tears, And seeking happiness, I meet with woe. For that I look aloft, so blind am I. That I may gain my love, I lose myself. Through bitter joy, and through sweet pain, Weighted with lead, I rise towards the sky. Necessity withholds, goodness conducts me on, Fate sinks me down, and counsel raises me, Desire spurs me, fear keeps me in check. Care kindles and the peril backward draws. Tell me, what power or what subterfuge Can give me peace and bring me from this strife, If one repels, the other draws me on. 

The ascension goes on in the soul through the power and appulsion inthe wings, which are the intellect, or intellectual will upon which shenaturally depends and through which she fixes her gaze toward God, as tothe highest good, and primal truth, as to absolute goodness and beauty. Thus everything has an impetus towards its beginning retrogressively, and progressively towards its end and perfection, as Empedocles wellsaid, and from which sentence I think may be inferred that which theNolan said in this octave:

 The sun must turn and reach his starting-point, Each wandering light must go towards its source, That which is earth to earth itself reverts, The rivers from the sea to sea return, And thither, whence desires have life and grow Must they aspire as to revered divinity, So every thought born of my lady fair Comes back perforce to her, my goddess dear. 

The intellectual power is never at rest, it is never satisfied with anycomprehended truth, but ever proceeds on and on towards that truth whichis not comprehended. So also the will which follows the apprehension, wesee that it is never satisfied with anything finite. In consequence ofthis, the essence of the soul is always referred to the source of itssubstance and entity. Then as to the natural powers, by means of whichit is turned to the protection and government of matter, to which itallies itself, and by appulsion benefits and communicates of itsperfection to inferior things, through the likeness which it has to theDivine, which in its benignity communicates itself or producesinfinitely, _i. E. _ imparts existence to the universal infinite and tothe innumerable worlds in it, or, finitely, produces this universealone, subject to our eyes and our common reason. Thus then in the onesole essence of the soul are found these two kinds of powers, and asthey are used for one's own good and for the good of others, it followsthat they are depicted with a pair of wings, by means of which it ispotent towards the object of the primal and immaterial potencies, andwith a heavy stone, through which it is active and efficacious towardsthe objects of the secondary and material potencies. Whence it followsthat the entire affection of the enthusiast is bifold, divided, harassed, and placed in a position to incline itself more easilydownwards than to force itself upwards: seeing that the soul findsitself in a low and hostile country, and reaches the far-off region ofits more natural home where its powers are the weakest. 

CES. Do you think that this difficulty can be overcome?

MAR. Perfectly well; but the beginning is most difficult, and accordingas we make more and more fruitful progress in contemplation we arrive ata greater and greater facility. As happens to whoever flys up high, themore he rises above the earth the more air he has beneath to uphold him, and consequently the less he is affected by gravitation; he may evenrise so high that he cannot, without the labour of cleaving the air, return downwards, although one might imagine it were more easy to cleavethe air downwards towards the earth than to rise on high towards thestars. 

CES. So that with progress of this kind a greater and greater facilityis acquired for mounting on high?

MAR. So it is; therefore well said Tansillo:--

 "The more I feel the air beneath my feet So much the more towards the wind I bend My swiftest pinions And spurn the world and up towards Heaven I go. "

As every part of bodies and of their elements, the nearer they come totheir natural place, the greater the impetus and force with which theymove, until at last, whether they will or not, they must prevail. Thatwhich we see then in the parts of bodies and in the bodies themselves weought also to allow of intellectual things towards their properobjects, as their proper places, countries, and ends. Whence you mayeasily comprehend the entire significance of the figure, the legend, andthe verses. 

CES. So much so that whatsoever you might add thereto would appear to mesuperfluous. 

IX. 

CES. Let us see what is here represented by those two radiating arrowsupon a target around which is written: Vicit instans. 

MAR. The continual struggle in the soul of the enthusiast, the which, inconsequence of the long familiarity which it had with matter was hardand incapable of being penetrated by the rays of the splendour of theDivine intelligence and the species of the Divine goodness; during whichtime, he says that the heart was enamelled with diamond, that is, theaffection was hard and not capable of being heated and penetrated, andit rejected the blows of love which assailed it on innumerable sides. That is, it did not feel itself wounded by those wounds of eternal lifeof which the Psalmist speaks when he says: Vulnerasti cor meum, odilecta, vulnerasti cor meum. The which wounds are not from iron orother material through the vigour and strength of nerves, but are dartsof Diana, or of Phoebus, that is, either from the goddess of thedeserts--of contemplation of truth, that is, from Diana, who is theorder of the second intelligences, which transfer the splendour receivedfrom the first and communicate it to the others, who are deprived of amore open vision; or else from the principal god Apollo, who with hisown, and not a borrowed splendour, sends his darts, that is, his rays, so many and from such innumerable points, which are all the species ofthings, which are indications of Divine goodness, intelligence, beauty, and wisdom, according to the various degrees, from the simplecomprehension, to the becoming heroic enthusiasts; because theadamantine subject does not reflect from its surface the impression ofthe light, but, destroyed and overcome by the heat and light, it becomesin substance luminous--all light--so that it is penetrated within theaffection and conception. This is not immediately, at the beginning ofgeneration, when the soul comes forth fresh from the intoxication ofLethe, and drenched with the waves of forgetfulness and confusion, sothat the spirit comes into captivity to the body, and is put into thecondition of growth; but little by little, it goes on digesting, so asto become fitted for the action of the sensitive faculty, until, through the rational and discursive faculty, it comes to a purerintellectual one, so that it can present itself to the mind, withoutfeeling itself befogged by the exhalations of that humour, which, through the exercise of contemplation, has been saved from putrefactionin the stomach and is duly digested. In this state, the presententhusiast shows himself to have remained thirty years, during whichtime he had not reached that purity of conception which would make him asuitable habitation for the wandering species, which offering themselvesto all, equally, knock, ever at the door of the intelligence. At last, Love, who in various ways and at different times had assaulted him as itwere in vain--as the light and heat of the sun are said to be useless tothose who are in the opaque depths and bowels of the earth--havinglocated itself in those sacred lights, that is having shown forth theDivine Beauty through two intelligible species the which bound hisintellect through the reasoning of Truth and warmed his affectionsthrough the reasoning of Goodness; while the material and sensitivedesires became superseded, which aforetime used, as it were, to triumph, remaining intact, notwithstanding the excellence of the soul. Becausethose lights which made present the illuminating, acting intellect andsun of intelligence found easy ingress through his eyes; that of Truth(the intellect of Truth?) through the door of the intellectual faculty;that of Goodness (intellect of Goodness?) through the door of theappetitive faculty, to the heart, that is, the substance of the generalaffection. This was that double ray, which came as from the hand of anirate warrior, who showed himself, now, as ready and as bold, asaforetime he had appeared weak and negligent. [I]

Then, when he first felt warmed and illuminated in his conception, wasthat victorious point and moment of which it is said: Vicit instans. 

 [I] He takes it by assault, without offering battle: the heart is unable to resist him. --("Spiritual Torrents. ")

Thus you can understand the sense of the following figure, legend andsonnet, which says:--

49. 

 I fought with all my strength, 'gainst Love Divine When he assailed with blows from every side This cold, enamelled, adamantine heart, Whence my desires defeated his intent. At last, one day, 'twas as the heavens had willed. Encamped I found him in those holy lights Which, through mine own alone, of all the rest An easy entrance to my heart could find. 'Twas then upon me fell that double bolt, Flung as from hand of irate warrior Who had for thirty years besieged in vain. He marked that place and strongly there he held, Planted the trophy there, and evermore He holds my fleet wings in restrainment. Meanwhile since then with more solemnity of preparation The anger and the ire of my sweet enemy Cease not to wound my heart. 

Rare moment was that; the end of the beginning and perfection ofvictory; rare were those two species which amongst all others found easyentrance, seeing that they contain in themselves the efficacy and thevirtue of all the others; for what higher and more excellent form canpresent itself than that of the beauty, goodness and truth, which arethe source of every other truth, beauty, and goodness? "He marked thatplace"--that is, took possession of the affections, noted them, andimpressed upon them his own character; "and strongly there he held;" heconfirmed and established them and sanctified them so that he can neveragain lose them; for it is not possible that one should turn to love anyother thing when once he has conceived in his mind the Divine Beauty, and it is as impossible that he can do other than love it, as it isimpossible that his desires should fall otherwise than towards good, orspecies of good. Therefore his inclination is in the highest degreetowards the primal good. So again, the wings, which used to be so fleetto go downwards with the weight of matter, are kept in restrainment, andthe sweet augers which are the efficacious assaults of the graciousenemy, who has been for so long time kept back, and excluded, a strangerand a pilgrim, never cease to wound, soliciting the affections andawakening thought. But now, the sole and entire possessor and disposerof the soul, for she neither wills nor wishes to will other, nor is shepleased, nor will she that any other please her, whence he often says:--

 Dolci ire, guerra dolce, dolci dardi, Dolci mie piaghe, miei dolci dolori!

X. 

CES. It would seem that we have nothing more to consider upon thisproposition. Let us see now, how this quiver and bow of Eros display thesparks around, and the knot of the string, which hangs down with thelegend, which is: Subito, clam. 

MAR. Well do I remember having seen it expressed in the sonnet. But letus read it first. 

50. 

 Eager to find the much desired food, The eagle towards the sky spreads out his wings And warns of his approach both bird and beast, The third flight bringing him upon the prey. And the fierce lion roaring from his lair Spreads horror all around and mortal fear; And all wild beasts, admonished and forewarned, Fly to the caves and cheat his cruel jaw. The whale, ere he the dumb Protean herd Hungry pursues, sends forth his nuncio, From caves of Thetys spouts his water forth. Lions and eagles of the earth and sky, And whales, lords of the seas, come not with treachery, But the assaults of Love come stealing secretly. 

The animal kingdom is divided into three, and is composed of variouselements: the earth, the water, the air, and there are threespecies--beasts, fishes, and birds. Into three kinds are the principlesof nature settled and defined, in the air the eagle, on earth the lion, in the water the whale; of the which, each one, as it displays morestrength and command over the others, makes a show of magnanimousaction, or apparently magnanimous. Therefore it is observed, that thelion, before he starts on the hunt trumpets forth his roar, whichresounds through the whole forest, like to the poetical description ofthe fury-hunter. 

 At saeva e speculis tempus dea nacta nocendi, Ardua tecta petit, stabuli et de culmine summo Pastorale canit signum, cornuque recurvo Tartaream intendit vocem, qua protinus omne Contremuit nemus, et silvae intonuere profundae. 

The eagle again, before he proceeds to his venery, first rises straightfrom the nest in a perpendicular line upwards, and generally speaking atthe third time he swoops from above with greater impetus and swiftnessthan if he were flying in a direct line, so that at the time when he isgaining the greatest velocity of flight, he is able also to speculateupon his success with the prey, and after three inspections he knowswhether he will succeed or fail. 

CES. Can one imagine why, if at the first his prey presents itselfbefore his eyes, he does not instantly pounce upon it?

MAR. No; unless it be to see whether anything better, or more easilytaken, comes to sight. At the same time I do not believe that this isalways so, but most often it is. But to return. Of the whale it ismanifest that, being such a huge animal, he cannot divide the waterswithout making his presence known through the repulsion of the waves, besides which there are several species of this fish, that when theymove or breathe, spout forth a windy tempest of water. Thus from thesethree principal species of animals, the inferior kinds have warning toenable them to get away, so that they do not conduct themselves asdeceivers and traitors. But Love, who is stronger and greater and whohas supreme dominion in heaven, on earth, and in the seas, and who incomparison ought perhaps to show greater magnanimity, as he also hasmore power, does nothing of the kind, but assaults and wounds suddenlyand swiftly. 

 Labitur totas furor in medullas, Igne furtivo populante venas, Nec habet latum data plaga frontem; Sed vorat tectas penitas medullas, Virginum ignoto ferit igne pectus. 

As you perceive, the tragic poet calls him a furtive fire, an unknownflame. Solomon calls it furtive waters. Samuel named it the whisper of agentle wind. The which three significations show with what sweetness, gentleness, and astuteness, in seas, on earth, in sky, does this fellowcome and tyrannize over the whole universe. 

CES. There is no vaster empire, no worse tyranny, no better dominion, nomore necessary magistracy, nothing more sweet and dear, no food to befound more hard and bitter, no deity more violent, no god more pleasing, no agent more treacherous and false, no author more regal and faithful, and, in fine, it seems to me that Love is all and does all, of him allmay be said, and all may refer itself to him. 

MAR. You say well. Love then, as he who works chiefly through thesight, which is the most spiritual of all the senses, and which reachesswiftly the known ends of the earth, and without stretch of time takesin the whole horizon of the visible, comes to be quick, furtive, suddenand instantaneous. Besides which, we must remember what the ancientssay, that Love precedes all the other gods, and therefore it is no useto imagine that Saturn shows him the way except by following him. Nowmust we find out, whether Love appears and makes himself knownexternally, whether his home is the soul itself, his bed the heartitself, and whether he consists of the same composition as our ownsubstance, the same impulse as our own powers. Finally everythingnaturally desires the beautiful and the good, and therefore it isuseless to argue and discuss, because the affection informs and confirmsitself, and in one instant desire joins itself to the desirable, as thesight to the visible. 

XI. 

CES. Let us see here, what is the meaning of that burning arrow, aroundwhich is the legend: Cui nova plaga loco? Explain what part does thisseek to wound?

MAR. Read the sonnet which says:--

51. 

 That all the ears of corn that may be reaped In burning Apuleia, or sunbrowned Lybia, With all that they unto the winds entrust, Or that the rays from the great planet sent, Should number those sad pains of my glad soul, Which she from those two burning stars receives With mournful joy in sweetest agony, Forbid me Sense and Reason to believe. What would'st thou more, sweet foe? What wish is that which moves thee still to hurt, Since this my heart of but one wound is made? So that there lies no part that now may be By thee or others printed, stabbed, or pierced, Turn thee aside, turn otherwhere thy bow, For thou dost waste thy powers, oh beauteous god! In slaying him who lies already dead. 

The meaning of all this is metaphorical, like the rest, and may beunderstood in the same sense as that. Here the number of darts whichhave wounded and do wound the heart, signify the innumerable individualsand species of things, in which shine the splendour of Divine Beauty, according to their degrees, and whence the affection for the good, wellproposed and well apprehended warms us. The which through the causes ofpotentiality and actuality, of possibility and of effect, crucify andconsole, give the sense of sweetness and also make the bitter to befelt. But where the entire affection is all turned towards God, that istowards the Idea of Ideas, from the light of intelligible things, themind becomes exalted to the super-essential unity, and, all love, allone, it feels itself no longer solicited by various objects, whichdistract it, but is one sole wound, in the which the whole affectionconcurs and which comes to be one and the same affection. Then there isno love or desire of any particular thing, that can urge, nor evenpresent itself before the will; for there is nothing more straight thanthe straight, nothing more beautiful than beauty, nothing better thangoodness, nothing can be found larger than size, nor anything lighterthan that light which with its presence darkens and obliterates alllights. 

CES. To the perfect, if it be perfect, there is nothing that can beadded; therefore the will is not capable of any other desire, when thatwhich is of the perfect is present with it, highest and best. ThereforeI understand the conclusion where he says to Love, "Turn otherwhere thybow, " and wherefore should he try to kill him who is already dead, thatis, he, who has no more life nor sense about other things, so that hecannot be stabbed or pierced or become exposed to other species. Andthis lament proceeds from him, who having tasted of the highest unity, desires to be in all things severed and withdrawn from the multitude. 

MAR. You understand quite well. 

XII. 

CES. Now here is a boy in a boat, which little by little is beingsubmerged in the tempestuous waves, and he, languid and tired, hasabandoned the oars; around it the legend "Fronti nulla, fides. " There isno doubt that this signifies that he was induced, by the serene aspectof the waters, to venture on the treacherous sea, which having suddenlybecome troubled, the boy, in mortal fear, and in his impotence to stillthe tempest, has lost his head, his hope, and the power of his arm. Butlet us see the rest:--

52. 

 Oh, gentle boy, that from the shore didst loose The baby bark, and to the slender oar Didst set thy unskilled hand; lured by the sea! Late hast thou seen the evil of thy plight. See there the traitor rolls his fatal waves, The prow of thy frail bark, now sinks, now mounts. The soul borne down with anxious cares Prevaileth not against the swollen floods. Thy oars thou yieldst to thy fierce enemy, Waiting for death with calm collected thought, With eyelids closed, lest thou shouldst see him come. If thee no friendly aid should quickly reach Thou surely must the full result soon feel, Of thy inquisitive temerity. My cruel fate is like unto thine own, For I too, lured, enticed by Love, must feel, The rigour keen of this most treacherous one. 

In what manner and why Love is a traitor and deceiver we have just seen;but as I see the following without figure or legend, I believe that itmust have connection with the above. Therefore let us go on and read it. 

53. 

 Methought to leave the shelter of my port, And from maturer studies rest awhile: When, looking round me to enjoy my ease, Sudden I saw those unrelenting fates. These have inflamed me with so ardent fires. Vainly I strive some safer shores to reach, Vainly from pitying hands invoke some aid, And swift deliverance from my enemies. Weary and hoarse I yield me, impotent, And seek no more to elude my destiny, Or make endeavour to escape my death: Let every other life to me be null, And let not the extremest torment fail, Which my hard fate for me prescribed. Type of my own deep ills, Is that which thou for pastime didst entrust To hostile breast. Oh, careless boy. 

Here I would not pretend to understand or determine all that theenthusiast means. Yet there is well expressed the strange condition of asoul cast down by the knowledge of the difficulty of the operation, theamount of the labour, the vastness of the work on one side, and on theother the ignorance, want of knowledge of the way, weakness of nervesand peril of death. He has no knowledge suitable to the business, hedoes not know where and how to turn, no place of flight or refugepresents itself; and he sees that, from every side, the waves threaten, with frightful, fatal impetus. Ignoranti portum, nullus suus ventus est. Behold him, who has committed himself indeed to fortuitous things, andhas brought upon himself trouble, prison, ruin, and drowning. See howfortune deludes us, and that which we put carefully into her hands, sheeither breaks or lets it fall from her hands, or causes it to be removedby the violence of another, or suffocates and poisons, or taints withsuspicion, fear, and jealousy to the great hurt and ruin of thepossessor. Fortunae au ulla putatis dona carcere dolis? For strengthwhich cannot give proof of itself is dissipated; magnanimity, whichcannot prevail, is naught, and vain is study without results; he seesthe effects of the fear of evil, which is worse than evil itself. Peiorest morte timor ipse mortis. He already suffers, through fear, thatwhich he fears to suffer, terror in the limbs, imbecility in the nerves, tremors in the body, anxiety of the spirit, and that which has not yetappeared becomes present to him, and is certainly worse than whatsoevermay happen. What can be more stupid than to be in pain about futurethings and absent ones which at present are not felt?

CES. These considerations are on the surface and belong to the externalof the figure. But the proposition of the heroic enthusiast, I think, deals with the imbecility of human nature (ingegno) which, intent on theDivine undertaking, finds itself all at once engulphed in the abyss ofincomprehensible excellence, and the sense and the imagination becomeconfused and absorbed, and not knowing how to pass on, nor to go back, nor where to turn, vanishes and loses itself as a drop of water vanishesin the sea, or as a small spirit, becomes attenuated, losing its ownsubstance in the space and immensity of the atmosphere. 

MAR. Well. But let us go towards our chamber and talk as we go, for itis night. 

=Second Dialogue=

MARICONDO. Here you see a flaming yoke enveloped in knots round which iswritten: Levius aura; which means that Divine love does not weigh down, nor carry his servant captive and enslaved to the lowest depths, butraises him, supports him and magnifies him above all liberty whatsoever. 

CES. Prithee, let us read the sonnet, so that we may consider the senseof it in due order with propriety and brevity. 

MAR. It says thus:--

54. 

 She who my mind to other love did move, To whom all others vile and vain appear, In whom alone is sovereign beauty seen, And excellence Divine is manifest. She from the forest coming, I beheld, Huntress of myself, beloved Artemis, 'Midst beauteous nymphs, with air of nascent bells. Then said I unto Love: See, I am hers. And he to me: Oh, happy lover thou! Delectable companion of thy fate! That she alone of all the numberless, That hold within their bosom life and death, Who most with virtues high the world adorns, Thou didst obtain, through will and destiny, Within the Court of Love. So happy thou in thy captivity Thou enviest not the liberty of man or God. 

See how contented he is under that yoke, that marriage which has joinedhim to her whom he saw issuing from the forest, from the desert, fromthe woods, that is, from parts removed from the crowd, and from theconversation of the vulgar who have but small enlightenment. Diana, thesplendour of the intelligible species, and huntress; because with herbeauty and grace she first wounded him, and then bound him and holds himin her power, more contented than otherwise he could possibly have been. He speaks of her "amidst beauteous nymphs, " that is, the multitude ofother species, forms and ideas, and "air of bells, " that is the geniusand the spirit which displayed itself at Nola, which lies on the plainof the Campanian horizon. [J] He acknowledges her, and she, more than anyother, is praised by Love, who considers him so fortunate, becauseamongst all those present or absent to mortal eyes, she does more highlyadorn the world, and makes man glorious and beautiful. Hence he saysthat his mind is raised towards the highest love, and that it learns toconsider "every other goddess, " that is, the care or observation ofevery other kind, as vile and vain. [K] Now, in saying that she hasroused his mind to high love, he takes occasion to magnify the heartthrough the thoughts, desires and works, as much as possible, and (tosay) that we ought not to be entertained with low things which arebeneath our faculties, as happens to those who, through avarice orthrough negligence, or indolence, become in this brief life attached tounworthy things. 

 [J] Does he allude to the fact that bells were first used in Christian Churches at Nola?--(Tr. )

 [K] The delights which are perceived in things corporeal are vile; for every delight is such that it becomes viler the more it proceeds to external things, and happier, the more it proceeds to things internal. --("Spiritual Torrents. ")

CES. There must be artisans, mechanics, agriculturists, servants, trotters, ignoble, low, poor, pedants and such like, for otherwise therecould not be philosophers, meditators, cultivators of souls, masters, captains, nobles, illustrious ones, rich, wise, and the rest who may beheroes like to gods. Now why should we force ourselves to corrupt thestate of nature which has separated the universe into things major andminor, superior and inferior, illustrious and obscure, worthy andunworthy, not only outside ourselves but also inside in the substance ofus, even to that part of us which is said to be immaterial?

So of the intelligences: some are low, others are pre-eminent, someserve and some obey, some command and govern. I believe, however, thatthis ought not to be brought forward as an example, so that subjectswishing to be superiors, and the ignoble to equal the noble, the orderof things would become perverted and confounded, so that a sort ofneutrality would supervene, and a brutal equality, such as is found incertain deserts and uncultured republics. Do you not see what damage hasbeen done to science through this: _i. E. _ pedants wishing to bephilosophers; to treat of natural things, and mix themselves with anddecide about things Divine? Who does not see how much evil has happened, and does happen, through the mind having been moved through similarfacts to exalted affections? Who is there, of good sense, who cannot seewhat a fine thing Aristotle made of it, when, being a master of belleslettres at Alexandria, he set himself to oppose and make war against thePythagorean doctrine, and that of natural philosophy; seeking by meansof his logical ratiocination to propose definitions and notions, certain fifth entities and other abortive portions of fantasticalcogitations, as principles and substance of things, more anxious aboutthe esteem of the vulgar stupid crowd, which is influenced and governedby sophisms and appearances which are found in the superficies of thingsrather than by the Truth, which is occult and hidden in the substance ofthem, and is the substance itself of them? He roused his mind, not tomake himself a mediator, but judge and censor of things which he hadnever studied, nor well understood. Thus in our day, that little whichAristotle can bring, is peculiar for its inventive reasoning, itssuggestiveness, its metaphysics, and is useful for other pedants, whowork with the same "Sursum corda, " who institute new dialectics andmodes of forming the reason (judgment?) which are as much viler thanthose of Aristotle, as may be the philosophy of Aristotle isincomparably viler than that of the ancients. And it has been caused bythis, that certain grammarians having grown old in the birching ofchildren, and in anatomizing phrases and words, have sought to rouse themind to the formation of new logic and metaphysics, judging andsentencing those which they had never studied nor understood: as alsothese by the approbation of the ignorant multitude, with whose mindthey have most affinity, can easily demolish the humanities andratiocination of Aristotle, as the latter was the executioner of theDivine philosophies of others. See, then, what it comes to, if allshould aspire to the sacred splendour, and yet are occupied about thingslow and vain. 

MAR. 

 Ride, si sapis, o puella, ride, Pelignus, puto, dixerat poeta; Sed non dixerat omnibus puellis; Et si dixerat omnibus puellis, Non dixit tibi. Tu puella non es. 

Thus the "Sursum corda" is not the measure for all; but for those thathave wings. We see that pedantry has never been held in such esteem forthe government of the world as in our times, and it offers as many pathsof the true intelligible species and objects of infallible and soletruth as there are individual pedants. Therefore in this present time itis proper that noble spirits equipped with truth and enlightened withthe Divine intelligence, should arm themselves against dense ignoranceby climbing up to the high rock and tower of contemplation. [L]

 [L] If meditation be a nobler thing Than action, wherefore, then, great Ke['s]ava! Dost thou impel me to this dreadful fight?

 --("Song Celestial. ")

To them it is seemly that they hold every other object as vile and vain. Nor should these spend their time in light and vain things; for timeflies with infinite velocity; the present rushes by with the sameswiftness with which the future draws near. That which we have lived isnothing; that which we live is a point; that which we have to live isnot yet a point, but may be a point which, together, shall be and shallhave been. And with all this we crowd our memories with genealogies:this one is intent upon the deciphering of writings, that other isoccupied in multiplying childish sophisms, and we shall see, forexample, a volume full of: Cor est fons vitae. Nix est alba, ergo cornixest fons vitae alba, and one prattles about the noun; was it first, orthe verb; the other, whether the sea was first or the springs; again, another tries to revive obsolete vocabularies which, because they wereonce used and approved by some old writer, must now be exalted to thestars. Yet another takes his stand upon the false or the trueorthography, and so on, with various similar nonsense only worthy ofcontempt. They fast, they become thin and emaciated, they scourge theskin, and lengthen the beard, they rot, and in these things they placethe anchor of their highest good. They despise fortune, and put upthese as shield and refuge against the strokes of fate. With such-likemost vile thoughts they think to mount to the stars, to be equal togods, and to understand the good and the beautiful which philosophypromises. 

CES. A grand thing, indeed, that time, which does not suffice fornecessary things, however carefully we use it, should come to be chieflyconsumed about superfluous things, and things vile and shameful. 

Is it not rather a thing to laugh at than to praise in Archimedes, thatat the time when the city was in confusion, everything in ruins, firebroken out in his room, enemies there at his back who had it in theirpower to make him lose his brain, his life, his art; that he, meanwhile, having abandoned all desire or intention of saving his life, lost itwhile he was inquiring, perhaps, into the proportion of the curve to thestraight line, of the diameter to the circle, or other similar mathesis, as suitable for youth, as it were unsuitable for one who, being old, should be intent upon things more worthy of being put as the end ofhuman desires?

MAR. In connection with this I like what you said just now, that theremust be all sorts of persons in the world, and that the number of theimperfect, the ugly, the poor, the unworthy and the villanous, shouldbe the greater, and, in short, it ought not to be otherwise than as itis. The long life of Archimedes, of Euclid, of Priscian, of Donato, andothers, who were found up to their death occupied with numbers, lines, diction, concordances, writings, dialectics, syllogisms, forms, methods, systems of science, organs, and other preambles, is ordained for theservice of youth, so that they may learn to receive the fruits of themature age of those (sages) and be full of the same even in their greenage, so that when they are older they may be fit and ready to arrivewithout hindrance to higher things. 

CES. I am not wrong in the proposition I moved just now when I spoke ofthose who make it their study to appropriate to themselves the place andthe fame of the ancients with new works which are neither better norworse than those already existing, and spend their life in consideringhow to turn wheat into tares, [M] and find the work of their life in theelaboration of those studies which are suited for children and aregenerally profitable to no one, not even to themselves. 

 [M] E spendono la vita su le considerazioni da mettere avanti lana di capra, o l'ombra de l'asino. 

MAR. But enough has been said about those who neither can nor dare tohave their mind roused to highest love. Let us now come to theconsideration of the voluntary captivity and of the pleasant yoke underthe dominion of the said Diana; that yoke, I say, without which, thesoul is impotent to rise to that height from which it fell, and whichrenders it light and agile, while the noose renders it more active anddisengaged. 

CES. Speak on then!

MAR. To begin, to continue, and to conclude in order; I consider thatall which lives must feed itself and nourish itself in a manner suitableto the way in which it lives. Therefore, nothing squares with theintellectual nature but the intellectual, as with the body nothing butthe corporeal; seeing that nourishment is taken for no other reason, butthat it should go to the substance of him who is to be nourished. Asthen the body does not transmute into spirit, nor the spirit intobody, --for every transmutation takes place, when matter, which was inone form, comes to be in another, [N]--so the spirit and the body are notthe same matter; in that that, which was subject to one should come tobe subject to the other. 

 [N] Carlyle says, "For matter, were it never so despicable, is spirit: were it never so honourable, can it be more?"--("Sartor Resartus. ")

CES. Surely, if the soul should be nourished with body, it would carryitself better there, where the fecundity of the material is, (asJamblichus argues); so that when a large fat body presents itself, weshould imagine that it were the habitation of a strong soul, firm, readyand heroic, and we should say: Oh, fat soul, oh, fecund spirit, oh, finenature, oh, divine intelligence, oh, clear mind, oh, blessed repast, fitto spread before lions, or verily for a banquet for dogs. On the otherhand, an old man shrivelled, weak, of failing strength, would be held tobe of little savour and of small account. But go on. 

MAR. Now, it must be said that the outcome of the mind is that alonewhich is always by it desired, sought for, and embraced, and that whichis more enjoyed than anything else, with which it is filled, comfortedand becomes better, --that is Truth, towards which, in all times, inevery state, and in whatsoever condition man finds himself, he alwaysaspires, and for the which he despises every fatigue, attempts everystudy, makes no account of the body, and hates this life. ThereforeTruth is an incorporeal thing; and neither physics, metaphysics, normathematics can be found in the body, because we see that the eternalhuman essence is not in individuals, who are born and die. It (Truth) isspecific unity, said Plato, not the numerical multitude that holds thesubstance of things. Therefore he called Idea one and many, movable andimmovable because as incorruptible species it is intelligible and one, and as it communicates itself to matter and is subject to movement andgeneration, it is sensible and many. In this second mode it has more ofnon-entity than of entity; seeing that it is one and another and is everrunning but never diminishes. [O] In the first mode it is an entity, andtrue. See now, the mathematicians take it for granted, that the truefigures are not to be found in natural bodies, nor can they be therethrough the power either of nature or of art. You know, besides, thatthe truth (reality) of supernatural substances is above matter. We musttherefore conclude that he who seeks the truth must rise above thereason of corporeal things. Besides which it must be considered, that hewho feeds has a certain natural memory of his food, especially when itis most required; it leaves in the mind the likeness and species of it, in an elevated manner, according to the elevation and glory of him whoaims, and of that which is aimed at. Hence it is that everything has, innate, the intelligence of those things which belong to theconservation of the individual and species, and furthermore its finalperfection depends upon efforts to seek its food through some kind ofhunting or chase. Therefore it is necessary that the human soul shouldhave the light, the genius, and the instruments suitable for itspursuit. And here contemplation comes to aid, and logic, the fittestmode for the pursuit of truth, to find it, to distinguish it, and tojudge of it. So that one goes rambling amongst the wild woods of naturalthings, where there are many objects under shadow and mantle, for it isin a thick, dense, and deserted solitude that Truth most often has itssecret cavernous retreat, all entwined with thorns and covered withbosky, rough and umbrageous plants; it is hidden, for the most part, forthe most excellent and worthy reasons, buried and veiled with utmostdiligence, just as we hide with the greatest care the greatesttreasures, so that, sought by a great variety of hunters, of whom someare more able and expert, some less, it cannot be discovered withoutgreat labour. 

Pythagoras went seeking for it with his imprints and vestiges impressedupon natural objects, which are numbers, the which display itsprogress, reasons, modes and operations in a certain manner, because inthe number (of) multitude, the number (of) measures, and the number (of)moment or weight, the truth and Being are found in all things. [P]

 [O] Atteso che sempre è altro ed altro, e corre eterno per la privazione. 

 [P] Number is, as the great writer (Balzac) thought, an Entity, and at the same time, a Breath emanating from what he called God, and what we call the ALL, the breath which alone could organize the physical Kosmos. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

Anaxagoras and Empedocles considered that the omnipotent andall-producing divinity fills all things, and with them nothing was sosmall that it did not contain within it the occult in every respect, although they were always progressing onwards to where it waspredominant, and where it found a more magnificent and elevatedexpression. 

The Chaldeans sought for Truth by means of subtraction, not knowing howto affirm anything about it; and proceeded without these dogs ofdemonstrations and syllogisms, but solely forcing themselves topenetrate by removing and digging and clearing away by means ofnegations of every kind and discourses both open and secret. 

Plato went twisting and turning and tearing to pieces and placingembankments so that the volatile and fugacious species should be as itwere caught in a net and held behind the hedges of definitions, and heconsidered that superior things were, by participation, and according tosimilitude, reflected in those inferior, and these in those according totheir greater dignity and excellence, and that the truth was in both theone and the other, according to a certain analogy, order and scale, inwhich the lowest of the superior order agrees with the highest of theinferior order. So that progress was from the lowest of nature to thehighest, as from evil to good, from darkness to light, from the simplepower to the simple action. 

Aristotle boasts of being able to arrive at the desired booty by meansof the imprints of tracks and vestiges, while he believes the effectswill lead to the cause, although he, above all others who have occupiedthemselves with this sort of chase, has most deviated from the path, soas to be able hardly to distinguish the footsteps. Theologians thereare, who, nourished in certain sects, seek the truth of nature in allher specific natural forms in which they see the eternal essence, thespecific substantial perpetuator of the eternal generation and mutationof things, which are called after their founders and builders and abovethem all presides the form of forms, [Q] the fountain of light, verytruth of very truth, God of gods, through whom all is full of divinity, truth, entity, goodness. This truth is sought as a thing inaccessible, as an object not to be objectized, incomprehensible. But yet, to no onedoes it seem possible to see the sun, the universal Apollo, the absolutelight through supreme and most excellent species; but only its shadow, its Diana, the world, the universe, nature, which is in things, lightwhich is in the opacity of matter, that is to say, so far as it shinesin darkness. 

 [Q] A discerning of the Infinite in the Finite. --("Sartor Resartus. ")

Many then wander amongst the aforesaid paths of this deserted wood, veryfew are those who find the fountain of Diana. Many are content to huntfor wild beasts and things less elevated, and the greater number do notunderstand why, having spread their nets to the wind, they find theirhands full of flies. Rare, I say, are the Actæons to whom fate hasgranted the power of contemplating the nude Diana and who, entrancedwith the beautiful disposition of the body of nature, and led by thosetwo lights, the twin splendour of Divine goodness and beauty becometransformed into stags; for they are no longer hunters, but that whichis hunted. For the ultimate and final end of this sport, is to arrive atthe acquisition of that fugitive and wild body, so that the thiefbecomes the thing stolen, the hunter becomes the thing hunted; in allother kinds of sport, for special things, the hunter possesses himselfof those things, absorbing them with the mouth of his own intelligence;but in that Divine and universal one, he comes to understand to such anextent, that he becomes of necessity included, absorbed, united. Whence, from common, ordinary, civil, and popular, he becomes wild, like a stag, an inhabitant of the woods; he lives god-like under that grandeur of theforest; he lives in the simple chambers of the cavernous mountains, whence he beholds the great rivers; he vegetates intact and pure fromordinary greed, where the speech of the Divine converses more freely, towhich so many men have aspired who longed to taste the Divine life whileupon earth, and who with one voice have said: Ecce elongavi fugiens, etmansi in solitudine. Thus the dogs--thoughts of Divine things--devourActæon, making him dead to the vulgar and the crowd, loosened from theknots of perturbation of the senses, free from the fleshly prison ofmatter, whence they no longer see their Diana as through a hole or awindow, but having thrown down the walls to the earth, the eye opens tothe view of the whole horizon. [R] So that he sees all as one; he sees nomore by distinctions and numbers, which, according to the differentsenses, as through various cracks, cause to be seen and understood inconfusion. 

 [R] For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face. --("St. Paul to the Corinthians. ")

He sees Amphitrite, the source of all numbers, of all species, of allreasons, which is the monad, the real essence of the being of all, andif he does not see it in its essence, in absolute light, he sees it inits seed, which is like unto it, which is its image; for from the monad, which is the divinity, proceeds this monad which is nature, theuniverse, the world, where it is beheld and reflected, as the sun is inthe moon by means of which it is illuminated;[S] he finding himself inthe hemisphere of intellectual substances. This is that Diana, that onewho is the same entity, that entity which is comprehensible nature, inwhich burns the sun and the splendour of the higher nature, according towhich, unity is both the generated and the generating, the producer andproduced. Thus you can of yourself determine the mode, the dignity, andthe success, which are most worthy of the hunter and the hunted. Therefore the enthusiast boasts of being the prey of Diana, to whom herendered himself, and of whom he considers himself the accepted consort, and happy as a captive and a subject. Why, he envies no man (for thereis none that can have more) or any other god that can have that specieswhich is impossible to be obtained by an inferior nature, and thereforeis not worthy to be desired, nor can one hunger after it. 

 [S] There is no potentiality for creation, or self-consciousness, in a pure Spirit on this our plane, unless its too homogeneous, perfect, because Divine, nature is, so to say, mixed with, and strengthened by, an essence already differentiated. It is only the lower line of the Triangle--representing the first triad that emanates from the Universal Monad--that can furnish this needed consciousness on the plane of differentiated Nature. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

CES. I have well understood all that you have said, and you have morethan satisfied me. Now it is time to return home. 

MAR. Well. 

=Third Dialogue=. 

_Interlocutors_:

LIBERIO. LAODONIO. 

LIB. Reclining in the shade of a cypress-tree, the enthusiast findinghis mind free from other thoughts, it happened that the heart and theeyes spoke together as if they were animals and substances of differentintellects and senses, and they made lament of that which was thebeginning of his torment and which consumed his soul. 

LAO. Repeat, if you can recollect, the reasons and the words. 

LIB. The heart began the dialogue, which, making itself heard by thebreast, broke into these words:

55. 

_First proposition of the heart to the eyes_. 

 How, eyes of mine, can that so much torment, Which as an ardent fire from ye derives, And which this mortal subject so afflicts With unrelenting burning never spared? Can ocean floods suffice to mitigate The ardour of those flames? or slowest star Within the frozen circle of the north Offer umbrageous shade? Ye took me captive, and the self-same hand Doth hold me and reject me and through you I in the body am: out of it with the sun. I am the source of life, yet am I not alive. I know not what I am, for I belong Unto this soul; but this soul is not mine. 

LAO. Truly the hearing, the seeing, the knowing, is that which kindlesdesire, and therefore it is through the operation of the eyes that theheart becomes inflamed: and the more worthy the object which is presentwith them the stronger is the fire, and the more active are the flames. What then, must that kind be, for which the heart burns in such a waythat the coldest star in the Arctic circle cannot cool it, nor can thewhole body of water of the ocean stop its burning! What must be theexcellence of that object that has made him an enemy to himself, a rebelto his own soul and content with such hostility and rebellion, althoughhe be captive to one who despises and will have none of him! But let mehear whether the eyes made a response, and what they said. 

LIB. They, on the other hand, complained of the heart as being theorigin and cause why they shed so many tears, and this was the sum oftheir proposition. 

56. 

_First proposition of the eyes to the heart_. 

 How, oh my heart, do waters gush from thee Like to the springs that bathe the Nereids' brows Which daily in the sun are born and die? Like to the double fountain of Amphitrite, Which pours so great a flood across the earth, That one might say, the sum of it exceeds That of the stream which Egypt inundates, Running its sevenfold course unto the sea. Nature hath given two lights To this small earth for governance; But thou, perverter of eternal law, Hast turned them into everlasting streams. But Heaven is not content to see her law Decline before unbridled violence. 

LAO. It is certain that the heart, grieved and stung, causes tears tospring to the eyes, and while these light the flames in this, that otherdims those with moisture. But I am surprised at such exaggeration whichsays that the Nereids raising their wet faces to the eastern sun, isless than these waters (of the eyes). And more than that, they are equalto the ocean, not because they do pour, but because these two springingstreams can pour such, and so much, that compared with them the Nilewould appear a tiny stream divided into seven streamlets. [T]

 [T] Is this an allusion to the seven activities or changes which water goes through to produce form; Water being the formative power which Fire, itself formless and the moving power, animates?--(Tr. )

LIB. Be not surprised at that exaggeration nor at that potency withoutaction! For you will understand all, after having heard the conclusionof their argument. Now listen how the heart responds to the propositionof the eyes. 

LAO. I pray you, let me hear. 

LIB. 

57. 

_First response of the heart to the eyes_. 

 Eyes, if an immortal flame within me burn, And I no other am than burning fire; If to come near me is to feel the blaze, So that the heavens are fervid with my heat; Why does my blazing flame consume you not, But only contrary effects you feel? Why saturated and not roasted ye, If not of water but of fire I be? Believe ye, oh ye blind, That from such ardent burning is derived The double passage, and those living founts Have had their elements from Vulcan? As force sometimes acquires a power When by its contrary it is opposed. 

You see that the heart could not persuade itself that from an oppositecause and beginning, could proceed a force of an opposite effect. Sothat it will not allow the possibility of it, except throughantiperistasis, which means the strength which an opposite acquires fromthat which, flying from the other, comes to unite itself, incorporateitself, insphere itself, or concentrate itself towards the individual, through its own virtue, which, the farther it is removed from thedimensions (dimensioni) the more efficacious it becomes. 

LAO. Tell me, how did the eyes respond to the heart?

58. 

_First response of the eyes to the heart. _

 Thy passion does confuse thee, on my heart, The path of truth thou hast entirely lost; That which in us is seen--that which is hid-- Is seed of oceans. Neptune, if by fate His kingdom he should lose, would find it here entire. How does the burning flame from us derive Who of the sea the double parent are? So senseless thou'rt become! Dost thou believe the flame will pass And leave the doors all wet behind That thou may'st feel the ardour of the same? As splendour through a glass, dost thou Believe that it through us will penetrate?

Now I will not begin to philosophize about the identity of oppositeswhich I have studied in the book De Principio ed uno, and I willsuppose that which is usually received, that the opposites in the samegenus are quite separate (distantissimi), so that the meaning of thisresponse is more easily learned where the eyes call themselves the seedor founts in the virtual potentiality of which is the sea; so that ifNeptune should lose all the waters, he could recall them into action bytheir own potentiality, where they are as in the beginning, medium andmaterial. But it is not urged as a necessity, when they say it cannotbe, that the flame passes over to the heart through their room (stanza ecortile) and courtyard leaving so many waters behind, for two reasons. First, because such an impediment cannot exist in action, if (equally?)violent opposition is not put into action;[U] second, because in so faras the waters are actually in the eyes, they can give passage to theheat as to the light; for, experience proves that the luminous raykindles, by means of reflection, any material that becomes opposed toit, without heating the glass; and the ray passes through a glass, crystal or other vase, full of water, and heats an object placed underit, without heating the thick intervening body. As it is also true thatit causes dry and dusty impressions in the caves of the deep sea. Therefore by analogy, if not by the same sort of reasons, we may see howit is possible that, through the lubricant and dark passage of the eyes, the affection may be kindled and inflamed by that light, the which forthe same reason cannot be in the middle. [V] As the light of the sun, according to other reasoning, is in the middle air, or again in thenearer sense, and again in the common sense, or again in the intellect, notwithstanding that from one mode proceeds the other mode of being. 

 [U] Prima, per che tal impedimento in atto non puo essere se non posti in atto tali oltraggiosi ripari. Does this mean that the opposites which are called into action must be equal in power?--(Translator. )

 If, when fire is ascending again to its proper sphere, it should meet with obstacles, such as a bit of wood or of straw, it would resume its former activity, and consume this obstacle or hindrance; and the greater the resistance, the more its activity would be increased.... You will observe that the obstacle which the fire meets with would serve only to increase its velocity, by giving it a new ardour to overcome all obstacles in joining itself to its centre. --("Spiritual Torrents, " Lady Guion. )

 [V] Nel mezzo. 

LAO. Are there any more discourses?

LIB. Yes; because both the one and the other are trying to find out inwhat way it is that it (the heart) contains so many flames and those(the eyes) so many waters. The heart then makes the next proposition. 

59. 

_Second proposition of the heart to the eyes_. 

 If to the foaming sea the rivers run, And pour their streams into the sea's dark gulf, How does the kingdom of the water-gods, Fed by the double torrent of these eyes, Increase not; since the earth Must lose the glorious overflow? How is it that we do not see the day, When from the mount Deukalion returns? Where are the lengthening shores, Where is the torrent to put out my flame, Or, failing this, to give it greater power? Does drop of water ever fall to earth In such a way as leads me to suppose It is not as the senses show it?

It asks, what power is this, which is not put into action? If the watersare so many, why does Neptune not come to tyrannize over the kingdoms ofthe other elements? Where are the inundated banks? Where is he who willgive coolness to the ardent fire? Where is the drop of water by which Imay affirm through the eyes that which the senses deny? But the eyes inthe same way ask another question. 

60. 

_Second proposition of the eyes to the heart_. 

 If matter changed and turned to fire acquires The movement of a lighter element, Rising aloft unto the highest heaven; Wherefore, ignited by the fire of love, Swifter than wind, dost thou not rise and flash. Into the sun and be incorporate there? Why rather stay a pilgrim here below Than open through the air and us a way? No spark of fire from that heart Goes out through the wide atmosphere. Body of dust and ashes is not seen, Nor water-laden smoke ascends on high. All is contained entire within itself, And not of flame, is reason, sense, or thought. 

LAO. This proposition is neither more nor less conclusive than theother. But let us come at once to the answers if there be any. 

LIC. There are some certainly and full of sap. Listen. 

61. 

_Second response of the heart to the eyes_. 

 He is a fool, who that alone believes, Which to the sense appears, who reason scorns. My flame could never wing its way above. The conflagration infinite remains unseen. Between the eyes their waters are contained, One infinite encroaches not upon another. Nature wills not that all should perish. If so much fire's enough for so much sphere, Say, say, oh eyes, What shall we do? how act In order to make known, or I, or you, For its deliverance, the sad plight of the soul? If one and other of us both be hid, How can we move the beauteous god to pity?

LAS. If it is not true it is very well imagined: if it is not so, it isyet a very good excuse the one for the other; because where there aretwo forces, of the which one is not greater than the other, theoperation of both must cease, for one resists as much as the otherinsists, and one assails while the other defends. If therefore the seais infinite and the force of tears in the eyes is immense, it never canbe made apparent by speech, nor the impetus of the fire concealed in theheart break forth, nor can they (the eyes) send forth the twin torrentto the sea if the heart shelters them with equal tenacity. Therefore thebeautiful deity cannot be expected to be pitiful towards the afflictedsoul because of the exhibition of tears which distil from the eyes, orspeech which breaks forth from the breast. 

LIB. Now note the answer of the eyes to this proposition:--

62. 

_Second response of the eyes to the heart_. 

 Alas! we poured into the wavy sea, The strength of our two founts in vain, For two opposing powers hold it concealed, Lest it go rolling aimlessly adown. The strength unmeasured of the burning heart, Withholds a passage to the lofty streams; Barring their twofold course unto the sea, Nature abhors the covered ground. [W] Now say, afflicted heart, what canst thou bring To oppose against us with an equal force? Oh, where is he, will boast himself to be Exalted by this most unhappy love, If of thy pain and mine it can be said, The greater they, the less it may be seen. 

[W] Ch'il coperto terren natura aborre. 

Both these evils being infinite, like two equally vigorous oppositesthey curb and suppress each other: it could not be so if they were bothfinite, seeing that a precise equality does not belong to naturalthings, nor would it be so if the one were finite, the other infinite;for of a certainty the one would absorb the other, and they would bothbe seen, or, at least one, through the other. Beneath these sentences, there lies hidden, ethical and natural philosophy, and I leave it to besearched for, meditated upon and understood, by whosoever will and can. This alone I will not leave (unsaid) that it is not without reason thatthe affection of the heart is said to be the infinite sea by theapprehension of the eyes. [X] For the object of the mind being infinite, and no definite object being proposed to the intellect, the will cannotbe satisfied by a finite good, but if besides that, something else isfound, it is desired and sought for; for, as is commonly said, the apexof the inferior species is the beginning of the superior species, whether the degrees are taken according to the forms, the which wecannot consider as being infinite, or according to the modes and reasonsof those, in which way, the highest good being infinite, it would besupposed to be infinitely communicated, according to the condition ofthe things, over which it is diffused. However, there is no definitespecies of the universe. I speak according to the figure and mass; thereis no definite species of the intellect; the affections are not adefinite species. 

 [X] Fire, Flame, Day, Smoke, Night, and so on ... These are all names of various deities which preside over the Cosmo-psychic Powers. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

LAO. These two powers of the soul, then, never are nor can be perfectfor the object, if they refer to it infinitely?

LIB. So it would be if this infinite were by negative privation orprivative negation of the end, as it is for a more positive affirmationof the end, infinite and endless. [Y]

 [Y] "The deity is one, because it is infinite. It is triple, because it is ever manifesting. " This manifestation is triple in its aspects, for it requires, as Aristotle has it, three principles for every natural body to become objective: privation, form and matter. Privation meant in the mind of the great philosopher ... The lowest plane and world of the Anima Mundi. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

LAO. You mean, then, two kinds of affinity; the one privative, the whichmay be towards something which is power, as, infinite is darkness, theend of which is the position of light; the other perfecting, which tendsto the act and perfection, as infinite is the light, the end of whichwould be privation and darkness. [Z] In this, then, the intellectconceives the light, the good, the beautiful, in so far as the horizonof its capacity extends, and the soul, which drinks of Divine nectar andthe fountain of eternal life in so far as its own vessel allows, and onesees that the light is beyond the circumference of his horizon, where itcan go and penetrate more and more, and the nectar and fount of livingwater is infinitely fruitful, so that it can become ever more and moreintoxicated. 

 [Z] "Darkness adopted illumination in order to make itself visible. " Darkness in its radical, metaphysical basis, is subjective and absolute light; while the latter, in all its seeming effulgence and glory, is merely a mass of shadows, as it can never be eternal, and is simply an illusion, or Maya. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

LIB. From this it does not follow that there is imperfection in theobject, nor that there is little satisfaction in the potency, but thatthe power is included in the object and beatifically absorbed by it. Here the eyes imprint upon the heart, that is upon the intelligence, androuse in the will an infinite torment of love, where there is no painbecause nothing is sought which is not obtained; but it is happiness, because that which is there sought is always found, and there is nosatiety, inasmuch as there is always appetite, and therefore enjoyment;in this it is not like the food of the body, the which with satietyloses enjoyment, has no pleasure before the enjoyment, nor afterenjoyment, but only in the enjoyment itself, and where it passes certainlimits it comes to feel annoyance and disgust. Behold, then, in acertain analogy, how the highest good ought to be also infinite, inorder that it should not some time turn to evil; as food, which is goodfor the body, if it is not limited, may come to be poison. Thus it isthat the water of the ocean does not extinguish that flame, and therigour of the Arctic circle does not mitigate that ardour. Therefore itis bad through (the) one hand, which holds him and rejects him; it holdshim, because it has him for its own; it rejects him because, flyingfrom him, the higher it makes itself the more he ascends upwards to it;the more he follows it, the further off it appears, by reason of itshigh excellence, according as it is said: Accedit homo ad cor altum, etexaltabitur Deus. Such blessedness of affection begins in this life, andin this state it has its mode of being. Hence the heart can say that itis within with the body, and without with the sun, in so far as the soulwith its twin faculty, puts into operation two functions: the one tovivify and realize the animal body, the other to contemplate superiorthings; so that it is in receptive potentiality from above, as it is inre-active potentiality below, towards the body. The body is, as it were, dead, and as it were apart from the soul, the which is its life and itsperfection; and the soul is as it were dead, and a thing apart from thesuperior illuminating intelligence, from which the intellect is derivedas to its nature and acts. Therefore, the heart is said to be thebeginning of life, and not to be alive, it is said to belong to theanimating soul, and that this does not belong to it; because it isinflamed by Divine love, and finally converted into fire, which can seton fire that which comes near it, seeing that it has contracted intoitself the divinity; it is made god, and consequently in its kind it caninspire others with love; as the splendour of the sun may be seen andadmired in the moon. And as for that which belongs to the considerationof the eyes, know, that in the present discourse they have twofunctions; one to impress the heart, the other to receive the impressionof the heart; as this also has two functions, one to receive theimpressions from the eyes, the other to impress them. The eyes study thespecies and propose them to the heart; the heart desires them, andpresents his desire to the eyes; these conceive the light, diffuse it, and kindle the fire in the heart, which heated and kindled, sends itswaters (umore) to them, so that they may dispose of them[AA](digeriscano). Thus, firstly, cognition moves the affection, and soonthe affection moves the cognition. The eyes, when they move (the heart), are dry, because they perform the office of a looking-glass, and of arepresenter; when they are moved, however, they become troubled andperturbed, because they perform the office of a diligent executer, seeing that with the speculating intellect, the beautiful and the goodis first seen, then the will desires it; and later the industriousintellect procures it, follows it, and seeks it. Tearful eyes signifythe difficulty of separating the thing wished for from, the wisher, thewhich in order that it should not pall, nor disgust, presents itself asan infinite longing (studio) which ever has, and ever seeks; seeing thatthe delight of the gods is ascribed to drinking, not to having tastedambrosia, and to the continual enjoyment of food and drink, and not inbeing satiated and without desire for them. Hence they have satiety asit were in movement and apprehension, not in quiet and comprehension;they are not satiated without appetite, nor are they in a state ofdesire, without being in a certain way satiated. 

 [AA] "Deity is an arcane, living (or moving) FIRE, and the eternal witnesses to this unseen Presence are Light, Heat, Moisture, " this trinity including, and being the cause of every phenomenon in Nature. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

LAO. Esuries satiata, satietas esuriens. 

LIB. Precisely so. 

LAO: From this I can comprehend how, without blame, but with great truthand understanding, it has been said that Divine love weeps withindescribable groans, because having all it loves all, and loving allhas all. 

LIB. But many comments would be necessary if we would understand thatDivine love which is deity itself; and one easily understands Divinelove, so far as it is to be found in its effects and in the inferiornature. I do not say that which from the divinity is diffused intothings, but that of things which aspires to the divinity. 

LAO. Now of this and of other matters we will discourse more at our easepresently. Let us go. 

=Fourth Dialogue=. 

_Interlocutors_:

SEVERINO. MINUTOLO. 

SEV. You will see the origin of the nine blind men, who state ninereasons and special causes of their blindness, and yet they all agree inone general reason and one common enthusiasm. [AB]

 [AB] May one suggest an analogy between the nine months of gestation, during which time the foetus goes through various stages and conditions to complete the "individual cycle of evolution, " and the nine blind men who, at the end of their probation, are brought to see the light--to be born--illuminated?--("Translator. ")

MIN. Begin with the first!

SEV. The first of these, notwithstanding that he is blind by nature, yethe laments, saying to the others that he cannot persuade himself thatnature has been less courteous to them than to him; seeing that althoughthey do not (now) see, yet they have enjoyed sight, and have hadexperience of that sense, and of the value of that faculty, of whichthey have been deprived, while he came into the world as a mole, to beseen and not to see, to long for the sight of that which he never hadseen. 

MIN. Many have fallen in love through report alone. 

SEV. They have, says he, the happiness of retaining that Divine imagepresent in the mind, so that, although blind, they have in imaginationthat which he cannot have. Then in the sistine he turns to his guide andbegs him to lead him to some precipice, so that he may no longer endurethis contempt and persecution of nature. He says then:

63. 

_The first blind man_. 

 Ye now afflicted are, who erst were glad, For ye have lost the light that once was yours, Yet happy, for ye have the twin lights known. These eyes ne'er lighted were, and ne'er were quenched; But a more grievous destiny is mine Which calls for heavier lamentation. Who will deny that nature upon me Has frowned more harshly than on you? Conduct me to the precipice, my guide, And give me peace, for there will I a cure For this my dolour and affliction find; For to be seen, yet not to see the light, Like an incapable and sightless mole, Is to be useless and a burden on the earth. 

Now follows the other, who, bitten by the serpent of jealousy, becameaffected in the organ of sight. He wanders without any guide, unless hehas jealousy for his escort. He begs some of the bystanders, that seeingthere is no remedy for his misfortune, they should have pity upon him, so that he should no longer feel it; that he might become as unmanifestto himself as he is to the light, and that they bury him together withhis own misfortune. He says then:

64. 

_The second blind man_. 

 Alecta has torn from out her dreadful hair, The infernal worm that with a cruel bite, Has fiercely fastened on my soul, And of my senses, torn the chief away, Leaving the intellect without its guide. In vain the soul some consolation seeks. That spiteful, rabid, rancorous jealousy Makes me go stumbling along the way. If neither magic spell nor sacred plant, Nor virtue hid in the enchanter's stone, Will yield me the deliverance that I ask: Let one of you, my friends, be pitiful, And put me out, as are put out my eyes, That they and I together be entombed. 

The other follows, who says that he became blind through having beensuddenly brought out of the darkness into a great light: accustomed tobehold ordinary beauties, a celestial beauty was suddenly presentedbefore his eyes--a sun-god--in this manner his sight became dull and thetwin lights which shine at the prow of the soul were put out: for theeyes are like two beacons, which guide the ship, and this would happento one brought up in Cimmerian obscurity if he fixed his eyes suddenlyupon the sun. In the sistine he begs for free passage to Hades, becausedarkness alone is suitable to a dark condition. He says:

65. 

_The third blind man_. 

 If sudden on the sight, the star of day Should shed his beams on one in darkness reared, Nurtured beneath the black Cimmerian sky, Far from the radiance of the glorious sun, The double light, the beacon of the soul He quenches: then as a foe he hides. Thus were my eyes made dull, inept, Used only, wonted beauties to behold. Conduct me to the land where darkness reigns! Wherefore being dead, speak I amidst the folk? A chip of Hell, why do I mix and move Amongst the living, wherefore do I drink The hated air, since all my pain Is due to having seen the highest good?

The fourth blind man comes forward, not blind for the same reason as theformer one. For as that one was blinded through the sudden aspect ofthe light, this one is so, from having too frequently beheld it, orthrough having fixed his eyes too much upon it, so that he has lost thesense of all other light, but he does not consider himself to be blindthrough looking at that one which has blinded him: and the same may besaid of the sense of sight as of the sense of hearing, that those whoseears are accustomed to great noises, do not hear the lesser, as is wellknown of those who live near the cataracts of the great river Nile whichfall precipitously down to the plain. 

MIN. Thus, all those who have accustomed the body and the soul to thingsmore difficult and great, are not apt to feel annoyed by smallerdifficulties. So that fellow ought not to be discontented about hisblindness. 

SEV. Certainly not. But one says, voluntarily blind, of one who desiresthat every other thing be hidden because it annoys him to be divertedfrom looking at that which alone he wishes to behold. Meanwhile he praysthe passers-by to prevent his coming to mischief in any encounter, whilehe goes so absorbed and captivated by one principal object. 

MIN. Repeat his words!

SEV. He says:

66

_The fourth blind man_. 

 Headlong from on high, to the abyss, The cataract of the Nile falls down and dulls the senses Of the joyless folk to every other sound, So stood I too, with spirit all intent Upon the living light, that lights the world; Dead henceforth to all the lesser splendours, While that light shines, let every other thing Be to the voluntary blind concealed. I pray you save me stumbling 'mongst the stones, Make me aware of the wild beast, Show me whether up or down I go; So that the miserable bones fall not, Into a low and cavernous place, While I, without a guide, am stepping on. 

To the blind man that follows, it happens that having wept so much, hiseyes are become dim, so that he is not able to extend the visual ray, soas to distinguish visible objects, nor can he see the light, which inspite of himself, through so many sorrows, he at one time was able tosee. Besides which he considers that his blindness is not fromconstitution, but from habit, and is peculiar to himself, because theluminous fire which kindles the soul in the pupil, was for too long atime and with too much force, repressed and restrained by a contraryhumour, so that although he might cease from weeping, he cannot bepersuaded that this would result in the longed-for vision. You will hearwhat he says to the throng in order that they should enable him toproceed on his way:

67. 

_The fifth blind man_. 

 Eyes of mine, with waters ever full, When will the bright spark of the visual ray, Darting, spring through each veiling obstacle, That I may see again those holy lights That were the alpha of my darling pain? Ah, woe! I fear me it is quite extinct, So long oppressed and conquered by its opposite. Let the blind man pass on! And turn your eyes upon these founts Which overcome the others one and all. Should any dare dispute it with me, There's one would surely answer him again; That in one eye of mine an ocean is contained. 

The sixth blind man is sightless because, through so much weeping, thereremains no more moisture, not even the crystalline and moisture throughwhich, as a diaphanous medium, the visual ray was transmitted, and theexternal light and visible species were introduced, so that the heartbecame compressed because all the moist substance, whose office it is tokeep united the various parts and opposites, was absorbed, and theamorous affection remains without the effect of tears. Therefore theorgan is destroyed through the victory of the other elements, and it isconsequently left without sight and without consistency of the parts ofthe body altogether. [AC] He then proposes to the bystanders that whichyou shall hear:

68. 

_The sixth blind man_. 

 Eyes, no longer eyes, fountains no longer founts, Ye have wept out the waters that did keep The body, soul, and spirit joined in one, And thou, reflecting crystal, which from without So much unto the soul made manifest, Thou art consumed by the wounded heart. So towards the dark and cavernous abyss, I, a blind arid man, direct my steps. Ah, pity me, and do not hesitate To help my speedy going. I who So many rivers in the dark days spread out, Finding my only comfort in my tears, Now that my streams and fountains all are dry, Towards profound oblivion lead the way. 

 [AC] Water is the first principle of all things; this was the central doctrine of his system (Thales). Now, if we may believe Aristotle, this thought was suggested to him not so much by contemplating the illimitable ocean, out of which, as old cosmogonists taught, all things had at first proceeded, as by noticing the obvious fact, that moisture is found in all living things, and that if it were absent they would cease to be. Thales, no doubt, believed this humour or moisture to be, as he said, the essence and principle of all things. --("Encyclopædia Metropolitana. ")

The next one avers that he has lost his sight through the intensity ofthe flame, which, proceeding from the heart, first destroyed the eyes, and then dried up all the remaining moisture of the substance of thelover, so that being all melted and turned to flame, he is no longerhimself, because the fire whose property it is to resolve all bodiesinto their atoms, has converted him into impalpable dust, whereas byvirtue of water alone, the atoms of other bodies thicken, and are weldedtogether to make a substantial composition. Yet he is not deprived ofthe sense of the most intense flame. Therefore, in the sistine he wouldhave space made for him to pass; for if anybody should be touched by hisfires he would become such that he would have no more feeling of theflames of hell, for their heat would be to him as cold snow. 

69. 

_The seventh blind man_. 

 Beauty, which through the eyes rushed to the heart, And formed the mighty furnace in my breast, Absorbing first the visual moisture; then, Spouting aloft its grasping flashing flame, Devouring every other fluid, To set the dryer element at rest, Has thus reduced me to a boneless dust, Which now to its own atoms is resolved, If anguish infinite your fears should rouse Make space, give way, oh peoples! Beware of my fierce penetrating fire, For if it should invade and touch you, ye Would feel and know the fires of hell To be like winter's cold. 

The eighth follows, whose blindness is caused by the dart which love hascaused to penetrate from the eyes to the heart. Hence, he laments notonly as being blind, but furthermore because he is wounded and burnt sofiercely, that he believes no other can be equally so. The sense of itis easily expressed in this sonnet:--

70. 

_The eighth blind man_. 

 Vile onslaught, evil struggle, unrighteous palm, Fine point, devouring fire, strong nerve, Sharp wound, impious ardour, cruel body, Dart, fire and tangle of that wayward god Who pierced the eyes, inflamed the heart, bound the soul, Made me at once sightless, a lover, and a slave, So that, blind I have at all times, in all ways and places, The feeling of my wound, my fire, my noose. Men, heroes, and gods! Who be on earth, or near to Ditis or to Jove, I pray ye say, when, how, and where did ye Feel ever, hear, or see in any place Woes like to these, amongst the oppressed Amongst the damned, 'mongst lovers?

Finally comes the last one, who is also mute through not having beenable, or having dared, to say that which he most desired to say, forfear of offending or exciting contempt, and he is deprived of speakingof every other thing: therefore, it is not he who speaks, but his guidewho relates the affair, about which I do not speak, but only bring youthe sense thereof:

71. 

_The guide of the ninth blind man_. 

 Happy are ye, oh all ye sightless lovers, That ye the reason of your pains can tell, By virtue of your tears you can be sure Of pure and favourable receptions. Amongst you all, the latent fire of him Whose guide I am, rages most fiercely, Though he is mute for want of boldness To make known his sorrows to his deity. Make way! open ye wide the way, Be ye benign unto this vacant face, Oh people full of grievous hindrances, The while this harassed weary trunk Goes knocking at the doors To meet a death less painful, more profound. 

Here are mentioned nine reasons, which are the cause that the human mindis blind as regards the Divine object and cannot fix its eyes upon it. And of these, the first, allegorized through the first blind man, isthe quality of its own species, which in so far as the degree in whichhe finds himself admits, he aspires certainly higher, than he is able tocomprehend. 

MIN. Because no natural desire is vain, we are able to assure ourselvesof a more excellent state which is suitable to the soul outside of thisbody, in the which it may be possible to unite itself, or to approachmore nearly, to its object. 

SEV. Thou sayest well that no natural impulse or power is without strongreason; it is in fact the same rule of nature which orders things. Sofar, it is a thing most true and most certain to well-disposedintellects, that the human soul, whatever it may show itself while it isin the body, that same, which it makes manifest in this state, is theexpression of its pilgrim existence in this region; because it aspiresto the truth and to universal good, and is not satisfied with that whichcomes on account of and to the profit of its species. 

The second, represented by the second blind man, proceeds from sometroubled affection, as in the question of Love and Jealousy, the whichis like a moth, which has the same subject, enemy and father, that is, it consumes the cloth or wood from which, it is generated. 

MIN. This does not seem to me to take place with heroic love. 

SEV. True, according to the same reason which is seen in the lower kindof love; but I mean according to another reason similar to that whichhappens to those who love truth and goodness, which shows itself whenthey are angry against those who adulterate it, spoil it, or corrupt it, or who in other ways would treat it with indignity, as has been the casewith those who have brought themselves to suffer death and pains, and tobeing ignominiously treated by ignorant peoples and vulgar sects. 

MIN. Certainly no one truly loves the truth and the good who is notangry against the multitude; as no one loves in the ordinary way who isnot jealous and fearful about the thing loved. 

SEV. And so he comes to be really blind in many things, and according tothe common opinion he is quite infatuated and mad. 

MIN. I have noted a place which says that all those are infatuated andmad, who have sense beyond and outside of the general sense of othermen. But such extravagance is of two kinds, according as one goes beyondand ascends up higher than the greater number rise or can rise, andthese are they who are inspired with Divine enthusiasm; or by goingdown lower where those are found who have greater defect of sense andof reason than the many, and the ordinary; but in that kind of madness, insensibility and blindness, will not be found the jealous hero. 

SEV. Although he is told that much learning makes him mad, yet no onecan really abuse him. The third, represented by the third blind man, proceeds from this: that Divine Truth according to supernaturalreasoning, called metaphysics, manifests itself to those few to whom itshows itself, and does not proceed with measure of movement and time asoccurs in the physical sciences, that is, those which are acquired bynatural light, the which, in discoursing of a thing known to reason bymeans of the senses, proceed to the knowledge of another thing, unknown, the which discourse is called argument; but immediately and suddenly, according to the method which belongs to such efficiency. [AD] Whence adivine has said: "Attenuati sunt oculi mei suspicientes in excelsum. " Sothat it does not require a useless lapse of time, fatigue, and study, and inquisitorial act to have it, but it is taken in quickly, as thesolar light, without hesitation, and makes itself present to whoeverturns himself to it and opens himself to it. 

 [AD] When somewhat of this Perfect Good is discovered and revealed within the soul of man, as it were in a glance or flash, the soul conceiveth a longing to approach unto the Perfect Goodness. --("Theologia Germanica. ")

MIN. Do you mean then, that the student and the philosopher are not moreapt to receive this light than the ignorant?

SEV. In a certain way no, and in a certain way yes. There is nodifference, when the Divine mind through its providence comes tocommunicate itself without disposition of the subject; I mean to saywhen it communicates itself because it seeks and elects its subject; butthere is a great difference, when it waits and would be sought, and thenaccording to its own good will and pleasure it makes itself to be found. In this way it does not appear to all, nor can it appear to others, thanto those who seek it. Hence it is said, "Qui quærunt me, invenient me;"and again: "Qui sitit, veniat et bibat!"

MIN. It is not to be denied, that the apprehension of the second manneris made in Time. (Comes with time?)

SEV. You do not distinguish between the disposition towards the Divinelight and the apprehension of the same. Certainly I do not deny that itrequires time to dispose oneself, discourse, study and fatigue; but aswe say that change takes place in time, and generation in an instant, and as we see that with time, the windows are opened, but the sun entersin a moment, so does it happen similarly in this case. 

The fourth, represented in the following, is not really unworthy, likethat which results from the habit of believing in the false opinions ofthe vulgar, which are very far removed from the opinions ofphilosophers, and are derived from the study of vulgar philosophies, which are by the multitude considered the more true, the more theyappeal to common sense. And this habit is one of the greatest andstrongest disadvantages, because as Alcazele and Averroes showed, it islike that which happens to those persons who from childhood and youthare in the habit of eating poison, and have become such, that it isconverted into sweet and proper nutriment, and on the other hand, theyabominate those things which are really good and sweet according tocommon nature; but it is most worthy, because it is founded upon thehabit of looking at the true light; the which habit cannot come into usefor the multitude, as we have said. This blindness is heroic, and is ofsuch a kind that it can worthily satisfy the present heroic blind man, who is so far from troubling himself about it that he is able to explainevery other sight, and he would crave nothing else from the communitysave a free passage and progress in contemplation, for he finds himselfusually hampered and blocked by obstacles and opposition. 

The fifth results from the disproportion of the means of our cognitionto the knowable; seeing that in order to contemplate Divine things, theeyes must be opened by means of images, analogies and other reasoningswhich by the Peripatetics are comprehended under the name of fancies(fantasmi); or, by means of Being, to proceed to speculate aboutEssence, by means of its effects and the knowledge of the cause; thewhich means, are so far from ensuring the attainment of such an end, that it is easier to believe that the highest and most profoundcognition of Divine things, is through negation and not throughaffirmation, knowing that the Divine beauty and goodness is not thatwhich can or does fall within our conception, but that which is aboveand beyond, incomprehensible; chiefly in that condition called by thephilosopher speculation of phantoms, and by the theologian, visionthrough analogies, reflections and enigmas, because we see, not the trueeffects and the true species of things, or the substance of ideas, butthe shadows, vestiges and simulacra of them, like those who are insidethe cave and have from their birth their shoulders turned away from theentrance of the light, and their faces towards the end, where they donot see that which is in reality, but the shadows of that which is foundsubstantially outside the cave. Therefore by the open vision which ithas lost, and knows it has lost, a spirit similar to or better than thatof Plato weeps, desiring exit from the cave, whence, not throughreflexion, but through immediate conversion he may see the light again. 

MIN. It appears to me that this blind man does not refer to thedifficulty which proceeds from reflective vision, but to that which iscaused through the medium between the visual power and the object. 

SEV. These two modes, although they are distinct in the sensitivecognition, or ocular vision, at the same time are united together in therational or intellectual cognition. 

MIN. It seems to me that I have heard and read that in every vision, themeans, or the intermediary is required between the power and the object. Because as by means of the light diffused in the air and the figure ofthe thing, which in a certain way proceeds from that which is seen, tothat which sees, the act of seeing is put into effect, so in theintellectual region, where shines the sun of the intellect, actingbetween the intelligible species formed as proceeding from the object, our intellect comes to comprehend something of the divinity, orsomething inferior to it. Because, as our eye, when we see, does notreceive the light of the fire and of gold, in substance, but insimilitude; so the intellect, in whatever state it is found, does notreceive the divinity substantially, so that there should besubstantially as many gods as there are intelligences, but insimilitude; therefore they are not formally gods, but denominativelydivine, the divinity and Divine beauty being one, exalted above allthings. 

SEV. You say well; but for all your well saying, there is no need for meto retract, because I have never said the contrary. But I must declareand explain. Therefore, first I maintain that the immediate vision, socalled and understood by us, does not do away with that sort of mediumwhich is the intelligible species, nor that which is the light; but thatwhich is equal to the thickness and density of the crystalline or opaqueintermediate body; as happens to him who sees by means of the watersmore or less turbid, or air foggy and cloudy, who would believe he waslooking as without a medium when it was conceded to him to look throughthe pure air, light and clear. All which you have explained where itsays:

 "When will the bright spark of the visual ray Darting, spring through each veiling obstacle. "

But let us return. The sixth, represented in the following, is causedonly by the imbecility and unreality of the body, which is in continualmotion, mutation, and change, the operations of which must follow thecondition of its faculty, the which is a result of the condition of itsnature and being. How can immobility, reality, entity, truth becontained in that which is ever different, and always makes and is made, other and otherwise? What truth, what picture can be painted andimpressed, where the pupils of the eyes are dispersed in water, thewater into steam, the steam into flame, the flame into air, and this inother and other without end: the subject of sense and cognition turnsfor ever upon the wheel of mutation?

MIN. Movement is change, and that which is changeable works and operatesever differently, because the conception and affection follow the reasonand condition of the subject; and he who sees other and other differentand differently must necessarily be blind as regards that beauty whichis one and alone and is the same unity and entity. 

SEV. So it is. The seventh, contained allegorically in the sentiment ofthe seventh blind man, is the result of the fire of the affections, whence some become impotent and incapable of comprehending the truth, bymaking the affection precede the intellect. There are those who lovebefore they understand: whence it happens that all things appear to themaccording to the colour of their affections, whereas he who wouldunderstand the truth by means of contemplation, ought to be perfectlypure in thought. 

MIN. In truth, one sees how much diversity there is in meditators andinquirers, because some, according to their habits and early fundamentaldiscipline, proceed by means of numbers, [AE] others by means of images, others by means of order and disorder, others through composition anddivision, others by separation and congregation, others by inquiry anddoubt, others by discussions and definitions, others by interpretationsand decypherings of voices, words, and dialects, so that some aremathematical philosophers, some metaphysicians, others logicians, othersgrammarians; so there are divers contemplators, who with differentaffections set themselves to study and apply the meaning of writtensentences; whence we find that the same light of truth, expressed in theselfsame book, serves with the same words the proposition of sonumerous, diverse, and contrary sects. [AF]

 [AE] Number is, as the great writer (Balzac) thought, an Entity, and, at the same time, a Breath emanating from what he termed God, and what we call the ALL; the breath which alone could organize the physical kosmos. --("The Secret Doctrine. ")

 [AF] As the Bible serves as the basis for all the different Protestant sects. 

SEV. That is to say, that the affections are very powerful in hinderingthe comprehension of the Truth, notwithstanding that the person may nothimself perceive it; just as it happens to a stupid invalid who does notsay that his mouth is bittered but that the food is bitter. Now thatkind of blindness is expressed by him whose eyes are changed anddeprived of their natural powers, by that which the heart has given andimprinted upon it, powerful not only to change the sense, but besidesthat, all the faculties of the soul as the present image shows. According to the meaning of the eighth, the high intelligible objecthas blinded the intellect, as the high superposed sensible hascorrupted the senses. Thus it would happen to him who should see Jove inhis majesty, he would lose his life and in consequence his senses. As hewho looks aloft sometimes is overcome by the majesty. [AG] Besides, whenhe comes to penetrate the Divine species, he passes it like a ray. Whence say the theologians that the Divine word is more penetrating thansharp point of sword or knife. Hence is derived the form and impressionof His own footstep, upon which nothing else can be imprinted andsealed. Therefore, that form being there confirmed and the new strangeone not being able to take its place unless the other yields, consequently he can say, that he has no power of taking any other, ifthere is one who replaces it or scatters it through the necessary wantof proportion. The ninth reason is exemplified, by the ninth who isblind through want of confidence, through dejection of spirit, the whichis caused and brought about also by a great love which He fears tooffend by His temerity. Whence says the Psalm: "Averte oculos tuos a me, quia ipsi me avolare fecere. " And so he suppresses his eyes so as not tosee that which most of all he desires, as he keeps his tongue fromtalking with whom he most wishes to speak, from fear that a defectivelook or word should humiliate him or bring him in some way intomisfortune. And this generally proceeds from the apprehension of theexcellence of the object above its potential faculty: whence the mostprofound and divine theologians say, that God is more honoured and lovedby silence than by words; as one sees more by shutting the eyes to thespecies represented, than by opening them, therefore the negativetheology of Pythagoras and Dionysius is more celebrated than thedemonstrative theology of Aristotle and the scholastic doctors. 

[AG]

 ... Gaze, as thy lips have said, On God Eternal, Very God! See me, see what thou prayest!

 * * * * *

 O Eyes of God! O Head! My strength of soul is fled. Gone is heart's force, rebuked is mind's desire! When I behold Thee so, With awful brows a-glow, With burning glance, and lips lighted by fire, Fierce as those flames which shall Consume, at close of all, Earth, Heaven!

 * * * * *

 God is it I did see, This unknown marvel of Thy Form! but fear Mingles with joy! Retake, Dear Lord! for pity's sake, Thine earthly shape, which earthly eyes may bear! --("The Song Celestial. ") (Sir Edwin Arnold's translation. )

MIN. Let us go; and we will reason by the way. 

SEV. As you please. 

=Fifth Dialogue=. 

_Interlocutors_:

LAODOMIA. GIULIA. 

LAO. Some other time, oh my sister, thou wilt hear what happened tothose nine blind men, who were at first nine most beautiful and amorousyouths, who being so inspired by the loveliness of your face, and havingno hope of receiving the reward of their love, and fearing that suchdespair would reduce them to final ruin, went away from the happyCampanian country, and of one accord, those who at first were rivals foryour beauty, swore not to separate until they had tried in all possibleways to find something more beautiful than you or at least equal to you;besides which, that they might discover that mercy and pity which theycould not find in your breast armed with pride; for they believed thiswas the only remedy which could bring them out of that cruel captivity. The third day after their solemn departure, as they were passing by theCircean mount, it pleased them to go and see those antiquities, thecave and fane of that goddess. When they were come there, the majesty ofthe solitary place, the high, storm-beaten rocks, the murmur of the seawaves which break amongst those caves, and many other circumstances ofthe locality and the season combined, made them feel inspired; and oneof them I will tell thee, more bold than the others, spoke these words:"Oh might it please heaven that in these days, as in the past more happyages, some wise Circe might make herself present who, with plants andminerals working her incantations, would be able to curb nature. Ishould believe that she, however proud, would surely be pitiful unto ourwoes. She, solicited by our supplications and laments, would condescendeither to give a remedy or to concede a grateful vengeance for thecruelty of our enemy. "

Hardly had he finished uttering these words than there became visible tothem a palace, which, whoever had knowledge of human things, couldeasily comprehend that it was not the work of man, nor of nature; theform and manner of it I will explain to thee another time. Whence, filled with great wonder and touched by hope that some propitious deity, who must have placed this before them, would explain their condition andfortunes, they said with one accord they could meet with nothing worsethan death, which they considered a less evil than to live in so muchanguish. Therefore they entered, not finding any door that was shutagainst them nor janitor who questioned them. They found themselves in avery richly ornamented room, where with royal majesty, (as one may say, Apollo was found again by Phaeton;) appears she, who is called hisdaughter, and at whose appearance they saw vanish all the figures ofmany other deities who ministered unto her. Then, received and comfortedby this gracious face, they advanced, and overcome by the splendour ofthat majesty, they bent their knee to the earth, and altogether, withthe diversity of tones which their various genius suggested, they laidopen their vows to the goddess. By her finally, they were treated insuch a manner that, blind and homeless, with great labour havingploughed the seas, passed over rivers, overcome mountains, traversedplains for the space of ten years, and at the end of which time havingarrived under that temperate sky of the British Isles, and come into thepresence of the lovely, graceful nymphs of Father Thames, they (thenine), having made humble obeisance, and the nymphs having received themwith acts of purest courtesy, one, the principal amongst them, wholater on will be named, with tragic and lamenting accents laid bare thecommon cause in this manner:

 Of those, oh gentle Dames, who with closed urn, Present themselves, whose hearts are pierced Not for a fault by nature caused, But through a cruel fate, That in a living death, Does hold them fast, we each and all are blind. 

 Nine spirits are we, wandering many years, Longing to know; and many lands O'ertravelled, one day were surprised By a sore accident, To which if you attend, You'll say, oh worthy, oh unhappy lovers!

 An impious Circe, who presumes to boast Of having for her sire this glorious sun, Welcomed us after many wanderings: Opened a certain urn, With water sprinkled us, And to the sprinkling added an enchantment. 

 Waiting the finish of this work of hers We all were quiet, mute, attent, Until she said, "Oh ye unhappy ones, Blind be ye all, Gather that fruit Those get who fix their thoughts on things above. "

 Daughter and Mother of horror and darkness and woe They cried, who sudden were struck blind, It pleased you then, so proud and harsh, To treat these wretched lovers, Who put themselves before you, Ready to consecrate to you their hearts. 

 But when the sudden fury somewhat stayed, Which this new case had brought on them, Each one within himself withdrew, While rage to grief gave place; To her they turned for pity, With chosen words companioning their tears. 

 Now if it please thee, gracious sorceress, If zeal for glory chance to move thy heart, Or milk of kindness soften it, Be merciful to us, And with thy magic herbs, Heal up the wound imprinted on our hearts. 

 If wish to succour rules thy beauteous hand, Make no delay, lest some of us Unhappy ones reach death, ere we Praising thy act Can each one say, So much did she torment, yet more did heal. 

 Then she replied: Oh curious prying minds, Take this my other fatal urn, Which my own hand may not unclose; Over the wide expanse of earth, Wander ye still, Search for and visit all the various kingdoms. 

 Fate hath decreed, it ne'er shall be unclosed Till lofty wisdom, noble chastity And loveliness with these combined, Shall set their hands to it; All other efforts vain, To make this fluid open to the sky. 

 Then should it chance to sprinkle beauteous hands, Of those who come anear for remedy, Its god-like virtues you may prove, And turning cruel pain Into a sweet content, Two lovely stars upon the earth you'll see. 

 Meanwhile be none of you cast down or sad, Although long while in deep obscurity All that the heavens contain remain concealed, For good so great as this, No pain, however sharp, Can be accounted worthy of the cost. 

 That Good to which through blindness you are led, Should make appear all other-having, vile, And every torment be as pleasure held, Who, hoping to behold Graces unique and rare, May hold in high disdain all other lights. 

 Ah, weary ones! Too long, too long our limbs Have wandered o'er the terrene globe, So that to us it seems As if the shrewd wild beast, With false and flattering hopes, Our bosoms has encumbered with her wiles. 

 Wretched henceforth, we see, though late, the witch Concerned to keep us all with promises (And for our greater hurt), at bay; For surely she believes No woman can be found Beneath the roof of heaven so dowered as she. 

 Now that we know that every hope is vain, We yield to destiny and are content, Nor will withdraw from all our strivings sore; And staying not our steps, Though trembling, tired and vexed, We languish through the days that yet are ours. 

 Oh graceful nymphs, that on the grassy banks Of gentle Thames do make your home, Do not disdain, ye beauteous ones, To try, although in vain, With those white hands of yours To uncover that which in our urn is hid. 

 Who knows? perchance it may be on these shores, Where, with the Nereids, may be seen The rapid torrent from below ascend And wind again Back to its source, That heaven has destined there she shall be found. 

One of the nymphs took the urn in her hand, and without trying to domore offered it to one at a time, but not one was found who dared to bethe first to try (to open it), but all by common consent, after simplylooking at it, referred and proposed it with respect and reverence toone alone; who, finally, not so much to exhibit her own glory as tosuccour those unhappy ones, and while in a sort of doubt, the urn openedas it were spontaneously of itself. But what shall I say to you of theapplause of the nymphs? How can you imagine that I can express theextreme joy of the nine blind men, when, hearing that the urn was open, they felt themselves sprinkled with the desired waters, they openedtheir eyes and saw the two suns, and felt they had gained a doublehappiness; one, the having recovered the light they had lost, the otherthat of the newly discovered light which alone could show them the imageof the highest good upon earth. How, I say, can you expect me todescribe the joy and exulting merriment of voices of spirit and of bodywhich they themselves all together could not express? For a time it waslike seeing so many furious bacchanals, inebriated with that which theysaw so plainly, until at last, the impetus of their fury being somewhatcalmed, they put themselves in a row. 

73. 

_The first played the guitar and sang the following_:

 Oh cliffs, oh deeps, oh thorns, oh snags, oh stones, Oh mounts, oh plains, oh valleys, rivers, seas, How dear and sweet you show yourselves, For by your aid and favour, To us the sky's unveiled. Oh fortunate and well-directed steps, _The second with the mandoline played and sang_:

 Oh fortunate and well-directed steps, Oh goddess Circe, oh transcendent woes, With which ye did afflict us months and years; They were the grace of heaven, For such an end as this, After such weariness and such distress. [AH]

[AH] For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for usa far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. --("St. Paul to theCorinthians. ")

_The third with the lyre played and sang_:

 After such weariness and such distress; If such a port the tempests have prescribed, Then is there nothing more that we can do, But render thanks to heaven, Who closely veiled our eyes, And pierced anon with such a light as this. 

_The fourth with the viola sang_:

 And pierced anon with such a light as this; Blindness worth more than every other sight, Pains sweeter far than other pleasures are, For to the fairest light Thou art thyself a guide, Show to the soul all lower things are null. 

_The fifth with the Spanish drum sang_:

 Showing the soul all lower things are null, Seasoning with hope the high thought of the mind, Was one who pushed us to the only path, And so did show us plain, The fairest work of God, Thus does a fate benign present itself. [AI]

[AI] The lonely sore-footed pilgrims on their way back to their home arenever sure to the last moment of not losing their way in this limitlessdesert of illusion and matter called Earth-life. --("The SecretDoctrine. ")

_The sixth with a lute sang_:

 Thus does a fate benign present itself, Who wills not that to good, good should succeed, Or pain forerunner be of pain, But turning round, the wheel, Now rising, now depressed, As day and night succeed alternately. 

_The seventh with the Irish harp_:

 As day and night succeed alternately; While the great mantle of the lights of night, Blanches the chariot of diurnal flames, As He who governs all, With everlasting laws, Puts down the high and raises up the low. 

_The eighth with the violin_:

 Puts down the high and raises up the low, He who the infinite machine sustains, With swiftness, with the medium or with slow, Apportioning the turning Of this gigantic mass, The hidden is unveiled and open stands. 

_The ninth with the rebeck_:

 The hidden is unveiled and open stands, Therefore deny not, but admit the triumph, Incomparable end of all the pains Of field and mount, Of pools and streams and seas, Of cliffs and deeps, of thorns and snags and stones. 

After each one in this way, singly, playing his instrument, had sung hissistine, they danced altogether in a circle and sang together in praiseof the one Nymph with the softest accents a song which I am not surewhether I can call to memory. 

GIU. I pray you, my sister, do not fail to let me hear so much of it asyou can remember!

LAO. 

74. 

_Song of the Illuminati_:

 "I envy not, oh Jove, the firmament, " Said Father Ocean, with the haughty brow: "For that I am content With that which my own empire gives to me. "

 Then answered Jove, "What arrogance is thine. What to thy riches have been added now, Oh god of the mad waves, To make thy foolish boasting rise so high?"

 "Thou hast, " said the sea-god, "in thy command, The flaming sky, where is the burning zone, In which the heavenly host Of stars and planets stand within thy sight. [AJ]

 "Of these, the world looks most upon the sun, Which, let me tell you, shineth not so bright, As she who makes of me, The god most glorious of the mighty whole. 

 "And I contain within my bosom vast, With other lands, that, where the happy Thames Goes gliding gaily on, Which has of graceful nymphs a lovely throng. 

 "There will be found 'mongst those where all are fair, Will make thee lover more of sea than sky, Oh Jove, High Thunderer! Whose sun shines pale beside the starry night. "

 Then answered Jove, "God of the billowy sea! That one should ere be found more blest than I Fate nevermore permits, My treasures with thine own run parallel. 

 "The sun is equal to thy chiefest nymph, By virtue of the everlasting laws, And pauses alternating, Amongst my stars she's equal to the sun. "

[AJ] Plato says that [Greek: Theos] is derived from the verb [Greek:Theein], to move, to run, as the first astronomers who observed themotions of the heavenly bodies called the planets [Greek: Theoi], thegods. --("The Secret Doctrine, " foot note, p. 2, vol. 1. )

I believe that I have recalled it entirely. 

GIU. You can see that no sentence is wanting to the perfecting of theproposition, nor rhyme to the completion of the stanzas. Now if I by thegrace of heaven have received beauty, a greater favour I consider ismine, in that whatever beauty I may have had it has been in a certainway instrumental in causing that Divine and only one to be found. Ithank the gods, because in that time, when I was so tender (verde), thatthe amorous flames could not be lighted in my breast, by reason of myintractability, such simple and innocent cruelty was used in order toyield more graces to my lovers than otherwise it would have beenpossible for them to obtain, through any kindness of mine however great. 

LAO. As to the souls of those lovers, I assure you that as they are notungrateful to the sorceress Circe for their blindness, grievousthoughts, and bitter trials, by means of which they have reached sogreat a good, so they can be no less grateful to thee. [AK]

GIU. So I desire and hope. 

[AK] For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are notworthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed inus. --(St. Paul to the Romans. )

Transcriber's Notes:

Page 15: The last paragraph has only one double quote. I think theline quoted is a single sentence, but I'm not sure. The line begins:["If the love of glory is dear to thy breast, ]. Unchanged. 

Page 78: LIC is suspected of being a typo for LIB. No other occurences. Unchanged. 

Page 79: LAS is suspected to be a typo for LAO, as this name occursonly once. Unchanged. 

Page 109: The term selfsame occurs only once without a hyphen. Unchanged. 

Footnote L: Ke['s]ava could not be represented with a latin-1 character. The ['s] is an s with an acute accent above.