Then answered Eugenius: "Allowing the truth of this, and that you, with your learned insight and in the light of a more commanding intellect, are able to look into the face of Nature and discover its hidden spirit and meaning, I still hold that the eyes of ordinary mortals, accustomed to be attracted and quickened by every novelty, are wont to grow dim in the daily recurring presence of Nature's grandeur in the external world, for all goes on so silently, so invariably, so unpretentiously, as almost to escape their notice." Then said Joseph: "To see or to hear some new thing does seem to give a sudden fresh impulse to the mind-a prompting and awakening one, I admit. But no mere volatile mind can hope to draw from the deep cisterns of true wisdom. And here I must again assert the sum and substance of my theme: let us renounce vain and childish pursuits; let us boldly brandish the weapons of intellect, and with matured, virile judgment, let us submit all things to the one standard of Truth. Assuredly, whatever our first impression may be, not only monsters and prodigies, but other strange things in Nature too, whether they be freaks or contrarieties, are far inferior to Nature's proper manifestations, where we see her whole energy and perfection shine forth, and that too so constantly and silently, so casily and unerringly, as it were from innate principles and hidden springs of action, beyond the compass of our mind. With her all things seem to be from within herself-she has no need of workmen's tools, or solder, or paint, or weights. These are the support of limping art. "But if the sights we daily see are despised as common let us penetrate further and consider Nature in her inner workings beneath the surface-the juices of herbs and fruits and their marvellous effects, the hidden influences of gems and of stars, the origin and properties of life itself. The man who is able to search into and comprehend these things will indeed taste and enjoy the greatest dainties that knowledge can offer, and if he fall short of such a 1 A superstition in vogue with learned men, Camillus Leonardus and others, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Ch. I] FURTHER DISCUSSED 171 feast, still there will be to the earnest seeker such wonders spread before him, such unfathomable wisdom, that his reward will be hardly less. For there are in the great palace of Nature sights which cannot escape the most untrained eye, and also other sights so lofty and so mysterious that they are the despair of the wisest observer, and lead him to seek a further explanation from within rather than from without. Poets never sing more sweetly than when, with due regard to the aspects of Nature, they happily describe in true and simple language those outward symbols that she has, so wondrous fair, yet scarcely noticed by the mass of mankind. The mind that has a faculty for these pursuits acknowledges and accepts their lucid presentment. Whatever else it may be engaged upon, this is ever present with them. But to penetrate beneath the surface of such mysteries as these is beyond man's power: they lie too deep; the labour is too great. "In this practised contemplation of Nature's beauties all the old philosophers rejoiced exceedingly. Here King Solomon and David his father, as every one knows, found illustrious arguments for religious duty; here Adam himself rejoiced with no mean joy when he was privileged to view the origin and disposition of the universe, and to distinguish the animals, however widely differing, each with its appropriate name. Nay, even the Incomprehensible and Eternal Artist," 3 after He had completed His work of the world, seemed to rejoice in it, and to rest as one that was satisfied." "Do you therefore," said Politian, "wish us all to become philosophers and adepts in the chemistry of Nature, and in these studies to wear away our lives?" "Yes, indeed I do," said Joseph, "if you are such adepts 1 Have we not here something akin to Milton's famous description of true poetry as being "simple, sensuous, and passionate"? Cf. Paradise Lost, v. 153: These are Thy glorious works, Parent of Good. These allusions to Adam are Miltonic. 3 Lat. immensus atque aeternus Opifex. Immensus is an unusual epithet for the Deity, but is in the Athanasian Creed, Latin translation. as to be able to extract the meaning of the Divine goodness, and such philosophers as to look at common things with no common views. The average sensual man measures every pleasure by his desire and lust, and so grows dull to the sense of God's goodness, which should be the supreme whet to all our joys. Philosophers also have been wont to let their studies end in the desire for knowledge and fame only, and have not used them as they ought to God's praise and glory. Now, the special advantage of natural science is to rise from Nature to Nature's God, tracing His footsteps everywhere therein.1 "Ah!" said Politian, "how earnestly I desire to embrace this great truth, and to hear it elucidated by you. Tell us, therefore, if you will, by what great arguments you would assert that this world of ours and all that is therein is the created work of God Himself, and not merely a state of things arising from fate or some attendant Spirit or Genius inherent in it." 2 1 Cf. Paradise Lost, v. 511: In contemplation of created things, This theory of Politian as to the origin of the universe being attributed to some inherent Genius has come into some favour since the doctrine of Evolution has been established, especially with such philosophers as cannot accept naked Atheistic Materialism. Dr. John Beattie Crozier finds an Unknown Power behind the intellectual development of mankind, a co-ordinating Power, an Unknown X, a Genius of the World, which is not ourselves, and which makes steadily for moral ends in such a way as we mortals would call intelligent and moral (History of Intellectual Development, i. 14, etc.). And as with mind, so also with matter. The apparent progressive march and improvement of the inorganic worlds, as shown in the modern facts of Evolution, seem to point to an Unknown X, some Genius inherent in matter of the same kind as here hinted at by Politian. In fact, not only in education and civil prudence, but also in philosophy, the author of our Romance shows himself in many points a long way ahead of his time. He is clearly a learned man of original and independent mind who has read and thought much, but, with it all, has fully and conscientiously submitted himself to the Divine revelation of God's Word as he could best interpret it in the Holy Scriptures. Such a man was Milton par excellence! Ch. I] THE UNIVERSE 173 Joseph answered and said: “You ask me to expound a mighty theme indeed, nor do I know one more profitable, for it is hardly conceivable how little real belief men have in God and His constant presence everywhere." However, as Joseph was just about to commence his discourse, the setting sun withdrew his rays, the shades of evening began to gather round, and the damp mists to arise from the ground. All this was by no means favourable for the speaker's lungs, so he checked himself, and said it would be better to keep his promise on the morrow.1 These discussions on Nature and Art in the foregoing chapter were stock academical subjects at both our Universities in Milton's time and even long afterwards. The poems known as Carmina Quadragesimalia (i.e. Lent Term exercises) have no title more often met with at the head of a poetical attempt than “An melior, ars vel natura?" or something similar. Milton took the side of Nature, and uses all the stock arguments in the most skilful and poetic manner, while he adds several strokes of genius all his own. This part of Nova Solyma seems to hail from his college days. Q CHAPTER II THIRD DAY IN NOVA SOLYMA UITE early next morning, as Joseph did not appear, the youths went to his chamber to find him. He was not there, but a picture hanging in front of his bed at once arrested their attention. They recognised it directly, it was so like life, and so like her whose features were impressed on their inmost soul. In fact, it was Joseph's sister sitting under the sacred vine as they had first of all beheld her. It seemed to them a spirit or ghost rather than a painting; they even fancied, as is not unusual, that the eyes of the picture moved and followed them. They gazed eagerly and took their fill, both artist and subject receiving due meed of praise. Often afterwards they would repeat this visit; indeed, the picture became a shrine where they as lovers worshipped their almost Divine ideal, and the unsubstantial canvas kept the love of the absent one warm in their hearts. It was on this first occasion that a mirror in a window recess caught the eye of Eugenius on account of an inscription he saw thereon. It ran thus: O thou who in this glass thyself dost view, Forget not that the glass is fragile-so are you— While Eugenius was reading this, Politian strolled into the adjoining library, whence he heard sounds of reciting 1 The Latin is: Qui faciem pulchram speculo meditaris in isto Heu fragili vitro sis memor esse parem. |