Chapter VI: Marriage Bells (6)

Hence it is that all prudent and experienced men have come to the conclusion that one of the greatest necessities of our times is to popularize the study of sound philosophy. Young America needs to be taught that there is a whole world of important truths ranging above the grasp of the vulgar, uncultivated mind, unknown to the pretentious teachers of a material and spurious civilization, and unattainable by those who are not trained to the best use of their intellectual powers. It needs to realize the fact that modern literature and thought in general is full of deceits. It needs to be instructed how to meet a host of high-sounding assertions, plausible fallacies, and elaborate theories, advanced in support of social, religious, or political error. It needs to be enabled, by a sound, uniform, and strong teaching, gradually to form into a compact body, held together by the noble ties of truth, powerful enough to stem the torrent of infidelity, and always ready to defend right and justice against learned hypocrisy, as well as against ignorant sophistry. Grown-up men cannot be reclaimed; they are too much engrossed with material interests to find leisure for the cultivation of their higher faculties; but we are glad to see that our brilliant and unbiassed youth can be given, and are ready to receive, a more intellectual education. Let us only convince them of the importance of philosophy; let us provide them with good, kind, and learned teachers, and the future will be ours.

FOOTNOTES:

[88] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by Rev. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

[89] Fleming, in his _Dictionary of Philosophy_ (v. Metaphysics), says: "In Latin, _metaphysica_ is synonymous with _supernaturalia_; and Shakespeare has used _metaphysical_ as synonymous with _supernatural_:

'... Fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crowned.'

--_Macbeth_, act i., scene 3.

Clemens Alexandrinus (_Strom._ i.) considered _metaphysical_ as equivalent to _supernatural_; and is supported by an anonymous Greek commentator, etc."

That Shakespeare's _metaphysical aid_ means the aid of some mysterious power above nature may be conceded. But that in Latin _metaphysica_ is synonymous with _supernaturalia_ is an assertion which can be easily refuted by a simple reference to any of the great Latin works of metaphysics. Nor is it true that Clemens Alexandrinus considered _metaphysical_ as equivalent to _supernatural_. He only remarks that Aristotle's _Metaphysics_ is that part of philosophy which Plato at one time styled "a contemplation of truly great mysteries," and at other times "dialectics"--that is, "a science which investigates the reasons of the things that are" (τῆς τῶν ὄντων δηλώσεως εὐρητικὴ τίς ἐστιν ἐπιστήμη). Now, the science which investigates the reasons of the things that are extends to _all_ real beings. It is not true, therefore, that Clemens Alexandrinus considered _metaphysical_ as equivalent to _supernatural_. The truth is that he does not even use the word _metaphysics_ as his own, but only says that Aristotle's _Metaphysics_ contains the investigation and contemplation of "mysteries"--that is, of abstruse things. And since Aristotle's _metaphysics_ is not a science of the supernatural, Clemens Alexandrinus, in quoting the word _metaphysics_ in connection with Aristotle, cannot have considered it as equivalent to the science of the supernatural. Lastly, Clemens Alexandrinus explains that the science which Aristotle called _metaphysics_, and Plato _dialectics_, has for its object the consideration of things, and the determination of their powers and attributes, from which it raises itself to their very essence, whence again it ventures to go further, even to God himself, the master of the universe. Επισκοποῦσα τὰ πράγματα, καὶ τὰς δυνάμεις, καὶ τὰς ἐξουσίας δοκιμάζουσα, ὐπεξαναβαίνει περὶ τὴν πάντων κρατίστην οὐσίαν, τολμᾶ τε ἐπέκεινα ἐπὶ τῶν ὄλων Θεὸν (_Strom._, lib. i. c. 28). This shows that metaphysical science, according to Clemens Alexandrinus, extends to the investigation of all natural things. It cannot, therefore, be said that he considered _metaphysical_ as equivalent to _supernatural_, whatever may have been the opinion of the anonymous Greek commentator.

[90] Grove, _Correlation of Physical Forces_.

[91] Suarez, _Metaph. Disput._, i. sect. 2, n. 25.

[92] S. Thomas says: _Intellectus potest intelligere aliquam formam absque individuantibus principiis, non tamen absque materia, a qua dependet ratio illius formæ_ (in 3 _De Anima_, lect. 8).

[93] _Nature_, a Journal of Science, March 13, 1873.

EPIGRAM.

Inconstant thou! There ne'er was any
Till now so constant--to so many.

AUBREY DE VERE.

DANTE'S PURGATORIO.

CANTO FOURTH.

This Canto, being somewhat abstruse, was passed over at its due
place in the series of these translations. As its omission has been
regretted by some students of Dante, it has been thought best to
publish it now, although the first portion of it may seem a little
difficult to any but a mathematical reader. Perhaps its dryness
may be somewhat relieved at the close by the humorous picture of
the lazy sinner Belacqua, which is the first slight touch of the
comic in this most grave comedy, and here for the first time Dante
confesses to a smile.

Whene'er the mind, from any joy or pain
In any faculty, to that alone
Bends its whole force, its other powers remain
Unexercised, it seems (whereby is shown
Plain contradiction of th' erroneous view
Which holds within us kindled several souls).
Hence, when we hear or see a thing whereto
The mind is strongly drawn, unheeded rolls
The passing hour; the man observes it not:
That power is one whereby we hear or see,
And that another which absorbs our thought;
This being chained, as 'twere--the former free.

A real experience of this truth had I,
Listening that soul with wonder at such force,
For now the sun full fifty degrees high
Had risen without my noticing his course,
When came we where the spirits, with one voice all,
Cried out to us, "Behold the place ye seek!"
A wider opening oft, in hedge or wall,
Some farmer, when the grape first browns its cheek,
Stops with one forkful of his brambles thrown,
Than was the narrow pass whereby my Guide
Began to climb, I following on alone,
While from our way I saw those wanderers glide.

A man may climb St. Leo, or descend
The steeps of Noli, or Bismantua's height
Scale to the top, and on his feet depend;
_Here_ one should fly! I mean he needs the light
Pinions and plumage of a strong desire,
Under such leadership as gave me hope
And lighted me my way. Advancing higher
In through the broken rock, it left no scope
On either side, but cramped us close; the ledge
O'er which we crept required both feet and hands.
When we had toiled up to the utmost edge
Of the high bank, where the clear coast expands,
"Which way," said I, "my Master, shall we take?"
And he to me, "Let not thy foot fall back;
Still follow me, and for the mountain make,
Until some guide appear who knows the track."
Its top sight reached not, and the hillside rose
With far more salient angle than the line
That from half-quadrant to the centre goes.
Most weary was I: "Gentle Father mine,"
I thus broke silence, "turn and see that if
Thou stay not for me, I remain alone."
"Struggle, my son, as far as yonder cliff,"
He said, and pointed upwards to a zone
Terracing all the mountain on that side.
His word so spurred me that I forced myself
And clambered on still close behind my Guide
Until my feet were on that girdling shelf.

Here we sat down and turned our faces towards
The East, from which point we had made ascent
(For looking back on toil some rest affords);
And on the low shore first mine eyes I bent,
Then raised them sunward, wondering as I gazed
How his light smote us from the left. While thus
I stared, he marked how I beheld amazed
Day's chariot entering 'twixt the North and us.
"Were yonder mirror now," the Poet said,
"That with his light leads up and down the spheres,
In Castor and Pollux, thou wouldst see the red
Zodiac revolving closer to the Bears,
If it swerved nothing from its ancient course;
Which fact to fathom wouldst thou power command,
Imagine, with thy mind's collected force,
This mount and Zion so on earth to stand
That though in adverse hemispheres, the twain
One sole horizon have: thence 'tis not hard
To see (if clear thine intellect remain)
How the Sun's road--which Phaeton, ill-starred,
Knew not to keep--must pass that mountain o'er
On one, and _this_ hill on the other side."
"Certes, my Master,--ne'er saw I before
So clear as at this moment," I replied
(Where seemed but now my understanding maimed),
"How the mid-circle of the heavenly spheres
And of their movements--the Equator named
In special term of art--which never veers
From its old course, 'twixt winter and the Sun,
Yet for the reason thou dost now assign,
Towards the Septentrion from this point doth run,
While to the Jews it bore a South decline.
But if it please thee, gladly would I learn
How far we have to journey; for so high
This hill soars that mine eyes cannot discern
The top thereof." He made me this reply:
"Such is this mountain that for one below
The first ascent is evermore severe,
It grows less painful higher as we go.
So when to thee it pleasant shall appear
That no more toil thy climbing shall attend
Than to sail down the way the current flows,
Then art thou near unto thy pathway's end;
There from thy labor look to find repose.
I know that this is true, but say no more."
And this word uttered, not far off addressed
Me thus a voice: "It may be that before
That pass, thou wilt have need to sit and rest."
At sound thereof we both looked round, and there
Beheld a huge rock, close to our left hand,
Whereof till now we had not been aware.
Thither we toiled, and in its shade a band
Behind it stood with a neglectful air,
As men in idleness are wont to stand.

BELACQUA THE SLUGGARD.

And one was seated, hanging down his face
Between his knees, which he with languid limb,
Looking exhausted, held in his embrace.
"O my sweet Seignior!" I exclaimed, "note him!
Lazier-looking than had laziness been
His sister-born." Turning towards us, at length
He gazed, slow lifting o'er his thigh his chin,
And drawled, "Go up, then, thou who hast such strength."
I knew who _that_ was then; and though the ascent
Had made me pant somewhat, I kept my pace,
Spite of short breath: close up to him I went,
And he droned forth, scarce lifting up his face,
"Hast thou found out yet how the Sun this way
O'er thy left shoulder doth his chariot guide?"
His sloth, and what few words he had to say,
Made me smile slightly, and I thus replied:
"No more, Belacqua, do I mourn thy fate;
But tell me wherefore in this place I see
Thee sitting thus? Dost thou for escort wait,
Or has thy old slow habit seized on thee?"

And he--"O brother! what boots it to climb?
God's Angel sitting at the gate denies
Me way to penance until so much time
Be past as living I beheld the skies.
Outside I must remain here for the crime
Of dallying to the last my contrite sighs,
Unless I happily some help derive
From the pure prayer ascending from a heart
That lives in grace: a prayer not thus alive
Heaven doth not hear: what aid can such impart?"

Now before me the Poet up the height
Began to climb, saying, "Come on, for o'er
This hill's meridian hangs the Sun, and Night
Sets foot already on Morocco's shore."

NOTE.

The Rev. Edward Everett Hale, in a most interesting paper intended
for presentation to the American Antiquarian Society, in Boston,
makes this record:

"When Columbus sailed on his fourth voyage, he wrote to Ferdinand
and Isabella a letter which contains the following statement with
regard to the South Sea, then undiscovered, known to us as the
Pacific Ocean:

"'I believe that if I should pass under the equator, in arriving at
this higher region of which I speak, I should find there a milder
temperature and a diversity in the stars and in the waters. Not
that I believe that the highest point is navigable whence these
currents flow, nor that we can mount there, because I am convinced
that there is the terrestrial paradise, whence no one can enter but
by the will of God.'

"This curious passage, of which the language seems so mystical,
represents none the less the impression which Columbus had of
the physical cosmogony of the undiscovered half of the world. It
is curious to observe that the most elaborate account of this
cosmogony, and that by which alone it has been handed down to
the memory of modern times, is that presented in Dante's _Divina
Commedia_, where he represents the mountain of Purgatory, at the
antipodes of Jerusalem, crowned by the terrestrial paradise. It is
this paradise of which Columbus says, 'No one can enter it but by
the will of God.'

"Of Dante's cosmogony a very accurate account is given by Miss
Rossetti, in her essay on Dante, recently published, to which she
gives the name of 'The Shadow of Dante.' Her statement is in these
words:

"'Dante divides our globe into two elemental hemispheres--the
Eastern, chiefly of land; the Western, almost wholly of water.'"

It is much easier to praise Mr. Hale's valuable comments than to
agree with Miss Rossetti. To us it seems that her confused account
lets no light in upon Dante's cosmogony, which was simply that of
the age he lived in, poetized after his own fashion. According
to the interpretation of THE CATHOLIC WORLD's translation, Dante
divides our globe into two hemispheres--_Northern_ and _Southern_.
In the story of Ulysses (_Inferno_, Canto xxvi.) he alludes to a
Western hemisphere, and, as far as we remember, nowhere else. Mr.
Hale says in conclusion of his able paper, "I am not aware that any
of the distinguished critics of Dante have called attention to the
fact that so late as the year 1503, a navigator so illustrious as
Columbus was still conducting his voyages on the supposition that
Dante's cosmogony was true in fact."

This, indeed, is quite curious, but ought not to surprise one who
reflects that the cosmography of Columbus was not much advanced
from the time of Dante. In this very canto the poet shows that he
knew about the variation of the ecliptic and the retrogression of
the equinoxes. From his age to that of the great navigator, science
had hardly taken a forward step. In fact, before 1300, Dante was
acquainted not only with the sphericity of the earth, but with the
first law of gravitation--the tendency of things to their centre.
Few consider how very slow was the growth of science from that
which Dante had learned in Florence, and Columbus had studied in
Pavia and Sienna, up to the time of Copernicus, at whom, so late as
1625, Lord Bacon had the hardihood to give this fling: "Who would
not smile at the astronomers--I mean, not those _carmen_ which
drive the earth about, but the few ancient astronomers, which feign
the moon to be the swiftest of the planets in motion, etc.?"

The pages of this magazine will not permit us to prolong an inquiry
that may hereafter, and which ought to, be made as to the Ptolemean
astronomy of the schools in the age of Dante. The one scholar in
this country most capable of such investigation is too busy--we
mean Professor Peirce, of the U. S. Coast Survey.--TRANSLATOR.

GRAPES AND THORNS.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE HOUSE OF YORKE."