De planctu naturae

So, in this youth of the delightful season, gladdened by no favor of things around her, the maiden could not moderate her earlier sadness, but, humbling her chariot to the ground, and gracing the earth with her own footsteps, she came to me with a modest step. And when I had caught sight of her, in the closeness of that place, I fell upon my face, and, wounded with amazement, I was emptied of my mind, and, buried wholly in the estrangement of ecstasy, I labored, neither alive nor dead, between the two. The maiden, raising me up in kindness, supporting my staggering feet, comforting me with the aid of her hands, and, weaving me into her embrace, sweetening my face with chaste kisses, cured me, weak as I was, of the sickness of my stupor with the honeyed medicine of her speech. And when she understood that I had been restored to myself, she painted for me, in the mental understanding of a material voice, an image, when, as though weaving together archetypal words in an ideal pattern, she brought them forth vocally into act.

"Alas," she said, "what blindness of ignorance, what estrangement of mind, what weakness of the senses, what infirmity of reason, has placed a cloud over your understanding, forced your spirit into exile, dulled the power of your senses, driven your mind to sickness, so that not only is your understanding deprived of the familiar knowledge of your own nurse, but, struck as if by the strangeness of some monstrous vision, your discernment should suffer an eclipse at the very rising of my appearance? Why do you make the knowledge of me a stranger to your memory, in whom my own gifts speak for me, gifts by which I have blessed you with such generous benefits? I, who from the very beginning of your life, acting as the deputy of God the Author, ordained by a fixed dispensation the lawful course of your life; I, who once brought forth into true being the matter of your body, when it wavered in the counterfeit essence of primordial matter; I, who, taking pity on its shapeless form, as it cried out again and again to me, sealed it with the seal of human form, and, its lack of decent shapes now made good, honored it with garments fashioned into something better; I, who, arranging within it the various workshops of the limbs for the body's service, and, within that same body, commanded the senses to keep watch like sentinels of a bodily city, so that, as watchmen against outside enemies, they might defend the body from outward molestation, so that thus the whole matter of the body, adorned with nature's nobler purple, going forward to its marriage, might be joined more agreeably to its husband, the Spirit; lest the husband, disdaining the deformity of his spouse, should refuse the marriage? I also marked out your spirit with vital powers, lest, poorer than the body, it should envy the body's successes. To it I assigned the power of native wit, which, as a huntress of subtle things, might capture them, once understood, in the pursuit of knowledge. Why too did I stamp it with the seal of reason, which, by the winnowing-fan of its own discernment, separates the empty husks of falsehood from the substance of truth? Through me too the power of memory serves you as a handmaid, which, in the cupboard of its own recollection, stores up the noble wealth of knowledge. With these two gifts, then, I have blessed each of the two, that neither might lament its own poverty, nor complain of the other's abundance. Just as, then, the aforesaid marriage was celebrated with my consent, so, at my discretion, that same marital union will come to an end. Nor is it in you alone, individually, but in each and every part of the universe, that the generosity of my power shines forth. I am she who, after the pattern and likeness of the great machine of the world, fashioned the nature of man, so that in him, as in a mirror, the written nature of the world itself might appear. For just as the harmonious discord of the four elements, a single plurality, a dissonant consonance, a dissenting agreement, holds together the structures of the world's royal palace, so the matched disparity of the four humors, an unequal equality, a shapeless conformity, a divided identity, builds together the edifice of the human body. And the same qualities that meet as mediators among the elements, these same qualities establish the firmness of peace among the four humors. And just as, against the fixed revolution of the firmament, the army of the planets fights with a contrary motion, so in man there is found a constant hostility between sensuality and reason. For the motion of reason, arising from the rising of the heavenly bodies, passing through to the setting of earthly things, turns round again in contemplation of things celestial. But, on the contrary, the wandering, planet-like motion of sensuality sometimes slides down, against the firmament of reason, into the west of earthly things. This latter motion leads the human mind down into the setting of vices, that it may die there; the former invites it toward the rising of virtues, that it may rise there. This one transforms man, degenerating him into a beast; that one potentially transfigures man into a god. This one banishes the light of the mind in the night of desire; that one illuminates the night of the mind with the light of contemplation. This one makes man run wild with the brutes; that one makes him converse with the angels. This one forces man into exile from his homeland; that one teaches man, even in exile, to find his homeland. Nor, in this matter, can the nature of man accuse the order of my dispensation; for by the counsel of reason I ordained such a contest of contradiction between these two combatants, that, if in this dispute reason should be able to bend sensuality to a refutation, the victory that goes before should not lack the reward that follows after. For rewards obtained by victories shine more beautifully than other gifts; and gifts bought by labors shine more pleasantly than all those given freely. For he deserves greater praise and honor who receives a reward by laboring than he who receives it by idling; for labor, going before, infusing a certain sweetness into the reward that follows, rewards the laborer with greater favor. In these things, then, and in the ampler gifts of nature, the world finds its own qualities in man; the providence of God governs all things. Consider how, in this world, as in a noble city, a certain majesty of the commonwealth is established by a fixed rule. For in heaven, as in the citadel of the human city, there resides, in imperial state, the eternal emperor, from whom an eternal edict has gone forth, that the particular natures of individual things be written in the book of his providence. In the air, indeed, as in the middle of the city, the heavenly army of angels, ministering by a delegated administration, applies to man its diligent guardianship; and man, indeed, dwelling like a foreigner in the world's suburb, does not deny obedience to this angelic soldiery. In this commonwealth, then, God commands; the angel acts; man obeys. God, by acting, creates man; the angel, by acting, brings him forth; man, by obeying, re-creates himself. God disposes a thing by authority; the angel arranges it by action; man submits himself to the will of the one acting. God commands by the mastery of authority; the angel acts by the ministry of action; man obeys by the mystery of regeneration. Now the course of our reasoning wanders too far, daring to raise its discussion to the ineffable mystery of the Godhead, for the understanding of which the sighs of our mind grow faint. Of this most orderly commonwealth, then, an image is reflected in man. For in the citadel of the head, sovereign Wisdom takes her rest, whom the other powers obey as demi-goddesses obey a goddess. For the power of native wit, and the faculty of reasoning, and also the power that recalls things past, dwelling in the different chambers of the head, burn with zeal in her service. In the heart, indeed, as in the middle of the human city, Magnanimity has set up her dwelling, who, under the rule of Prudence, professing her own soldiery, acts according as that same rule deliberates. The loins, however, as the suburbs, grant to the outermost part of the body the pleasures of desire, which, not daring to oppose the rule of Magnanimity, obey her will. In this commonwealth, then, Wisdom takes the part of the one commanding; Magnanimity, the concern of the one acting; Pleasure usurps the likeness of the one obeying. In the other parts, too, of the human body, the image of the world is figured. For just as, in the world, the benefit of the sun's heat is medicine to languishing things, so in man, heat proceeding from the foundation of the heart, gladdens and gives life to the parts of the human body. And just as the moon, too, in the machine of the world, exists as the mother of many humors, so the liver, in man, imparts a corresponding humor to the limbs. And just as the moon, deprived of the sun's light, grows faint, so the power of the liver, widowed of the life-giving comfort of the heart, grows sluggish. And just as the air, in the sun's absence, is clothed in darkness, so without the heart's benefit, the vital power breathes in vain. Besides these things, see how the world is put forward on the stage through the various successions of the seasons. Now it plays wantonly in the infancy of spring; now it advances in the youth of summer; now it ripens in the manhood of autumn; now it grows white in the old age of winter. A corresponding alternation of the season, this same variety, changes the age of man. For when the dawn of human life rises, the morning spring dawns for man; and when the course of life completes the longer boundary-marks of age, man stands at the noon of youth's summer. But when a longer life has completed, as it were, the ninth hour of its age, man passes into the autumn of manhood; and, with his age inclined toward its setting, and now the evening of life announcing old age, the wintry chill of old age forces man to grow white with its frosts. In all these things, the effect of my power shows itself ineffably, but nevertheless I have resolved to veil the face of my power under a great many figures for most people, defending its secret from being made cheap, lest, if I should impart to them a familiar knowledge of it, those things that flourished as precious while still unknown to them should afterward, once known, grow cheap. For as the common proverb bears witness: 'Familiar acquaintance with a thing is the mother of contempt.' And the trumpet of Aristotle's authority proclaims that: 'He lessens the majesty of secret things, who divulges secrets to the unworthy.' But lest, in this prerogative of my power, I should seem, out of arrogance, to detract from God, I profess most certainly that I am a humble disciple of the highest Master. For I, in acting, am not able to follow closely in the footsteps of God, who acts, but from afar, as if sighing, I look upon Him as He acts. His working is simple, mine manifold; his work sufficient, mine deficient; his work wonderful, my work changeable. He is unborn, I am born; he is the one making, I am the one made; he is the maker of my work, I am the work of the maker; he works out of nothing, I beg my work out of something; he works under his own name, I work under his name; he, by a mere nod, bids a thing exist, but my working is only a token of the divine working. And so that, with respect to the divine power, you may know my power to be powerless, know that my effect is a defect, and reckon that my strength is but weakness. Consult the authority of the theological faculty, to whose faithfulness you ought to give assent, rather than to the firmness of my own reasonings. For according to its faithful testimony, man is born by my action, and reborn by God's authority. Through me, he is called from non-being into being; through Him, he is led forward into a better being. For through me man is brought forth to death; through Him he is created anew to life. But from this mystery of the second birth, the ministry of my profession is dismissed; nor does such a birth need such a midwife; rather, I, by nature, do not know the nature of this birth, and for understanding these things, the keenness of my intellect fails, and the light of my reason is confounded; indeed, understanding itself is transformed when understood, and the senses are confounded by things beyond sense. And since, in all these things, natural reason grows faint, we venerate the mystery of so great a thing only by the firmness of faith. Nor is it any wonder, if in these matters theology does not show me its intimacy, since in many respects we hold views not opposed but different. I gain faith through reason; she gains reason through faith. I know, in order to believe; she believes, in order to know. I agree, knowing; she perceives, agreeing. I hardly see visible things; she comprehends incomprehensible things as in a mirror. I scarcely measure the smallest things by my understanding; she measures things immense by her reason. I walk upon the earth almost like a beast; she wages her warfare in the secret places of heaven. And though it is not my office to treat of these matters, I have nevertheless allowed my discourse to wander into them, so that, with respect to the surpassing power of God, you should not doubt that my power is diminished. But although my effect falls short when compared to the divine power, yet, when set beside human power, it far surpasses it. And so, in a kind of three-seated table of comparison, we may find three degrees of power, so that the power of God may be called superlative, that of Nature comparative, and that of man positive. All these things, without any inquiry into questions, grant you a familiar knowledge of me. And, to speak more intimately, I am Nature, who, by the gift of my own condescension, have made you capable of my presence, and have deigned to bless you with my company."

How Alan speaks to Nature. When, through these words, Nature had unveiled her face to me, and, by her admonition, as if by a preceding key, had unlocked for me the door of her knowledge, a small cloud of stupor evaporated from the borders of my mind, and, through this admonition, as though by the remedy of some potion, the stomach of my mind, as if in nausea, vomited up all the remnants of my confused fancies. Returning to myself, then, from the wandering of my mind, wholly restored, and prostrate again at the footsteps of Nature, I marked her feet, in place of a greeting, with the repeated pressing of kisses. Then, raising myself up, and unbending, with a reverent bowing of my head, as if before divine majesty, I offered her, with a living voice, the first-fruits of a greeting. Then, taking refuge in the aid of an excuse, I begged her goodwill with prayers seasoned with the honey of humility (lest she should attribute it either to the fault of my own feebleness, or judge it with the disdain of indignation, or ascribe it to the poison of ingratitude, that I had paid no tribute of joyful festivity to her arrival, but had rather been struck, by her appearance, as if by the strange apparition of some monstrous phantom, and had been put to sleep by the counterfeit death of ecstasy), saying that it was no wonder if, in the presence of such great dignity, the shadow of my mortality had grown pale; if, at the noonday of such great majesty, the small ray of my discernment had vanished into the evening of confusion; if, at the appearance of such great felicity, my own smallness had blushed with shame, since the dark fog of ignorance native to human frailty, the powerless dullness of wonder, and the frequent shock of stupor, are joined together by a kind of bond of kinship, so that, from their sociable fellowship, the frailty of human nature is like a pupil convicted by a teacher who is forming his character, one who, in the first beginnings of new things, in the wages owed to great things, is often accustomed to be darkened by ignorance, and struck by stupor, and often wounded by wonder. While, by this path of excuse, I was preparing for myself a favorable approach to the queen, and might more favorably earn her grace, and, besides, might gain for myself the confidence to hear greater things, I set forth for her examination a certain doubtful uncertainty of mine, which, by the force of too great disquiet, was troubling the lodging of my mind, and I went forth into these words of a question: