PROSE VI.

Ad hoc ego: Quoniam in area generalitatis.

At this I pursued:

`Since my furthest knowledge wanders astray in this general field, and since particularity has been made a friend of the intellect, I wish that thou wouldest unfold, with variously colored and brilliant figures interspersed, the evils which thou impliest in this small round of a general statement.'

`Since it is unfitting' she replied, `to deprive thy proper and meritorious request of its reward and satisfaction, it is right that the separate evils be pointed out to thee distinctively by individual signs. Inasmuch, then, as it has been told how the whole world is endangered by the almost universal fire of impure love, there now remains to be shown how it is ship-

Wrecked on the most universal flood of intemperance. Seeing that intemperance is a sort of preface to the performance and excitement of love, and antecedent to the amorous consequent, note that certain daughters of the old Idololatria, who was in time past completely crushed, make the attempt to renew the power of their mother in the immediate present, and, by certain magic songs, to revive her from the dead. In their meretricious employment they brighten their appearance with the countenance of deceiving delight, and fraudulently lure on their lovers. Also with sad joy, with friendly cruelty, with hostile friendship, like sirens they sweetly bear on their lips the melody of pleasure, even into destruction itself, leading on their lovers through to the shipwreck of idolatry. One of them, to speak by a fictitious name, can be called by the fit appellation Bacchilatria. This Bacchilatria, who steals the spark of reason from her lover, and exposes him to the darkness of brutish sensuality, after the manner of a harlot so intoxicates him that he is forced to desire wine beyond measure; so much indeed, that the drinker, in being bound to Bacchus by the chain of intemperate enjoyment, is thought to exhibit the majesty of his cult. Therefore the man Bacchilatra very frequently prefers that Bacchus-like relics of his own shrine-should not be separated from him by interval in space, and does not allow his god to delay too long in the walls of alien vessels; but that the divinity of the god may assist him the more intimately, he shuts him up in the jar of his own belly. But because most often the vessel of the stomach can not bear the divinity of so great a guest, the same god disgracefully goes off in liquid either through the arctic pole of the eastern door, or through the antarctic pole of the western

region. Many times, also, the worshiper of Bacchus designs a guest-chamber for him in the cups of goblets of very precious material, in order that his clear deity may shine out the more divinely in a vessel of gold. Thence this same goblet, which rivals the glories of the ether in its brightness, and strives with the green light of the emerald in its freshness, and far surpasses most savors in the excellence of its savor, incites the sons of drinking by its falsely divine qualities, so that they honor wine with ineffable love, as if it were the mystery of an - unutterable godship. And, then, that nothing of the god remain undrained, they pierce through Bacchus to the very dregs, and so force their god ignobly to descend to the Tartarean depth of the belly. Thus, while they drop to the most general class of drinking, they rise to the superlative degree of drunkenness.

This evil not only is made an enemy to men of plebeian stock, but even causes the haughty necks of prelates to bend. And they to whom those delights of Bacchus, which the favor of nature has showered upon him, are not sufficient, though they usurp the attractions of learning, swallow also, in the voracious Charybdis of their gullet, Bacchus now rejoicing in a marriage with roses, now exhaling fragrance from various flowers, now claiming distinction from association with hyssop, now enriched externally with other gifts. And to such a degree, indeed, is this true that with no sea they suffer the shipwreck of drunkenness, without sorrow its sadness, without infirmity its sickness, without an opiate its sleep. Those who, fired with drunken energy, employ their time in hymns, break in on the verses with unnecessary interjection, and rudely let in the tempest of inebriation.

Not only the aforementioned passion for drink, but also a canine greediness for eating, entices very many. The abnormal desires of such, and their gross thoughts, dream of preparations of food. While they pay too fully their due of food to the daily tax-collector, he, more than loaded, has to pay back his debtor. They prize whatever they hold in the coffer of the stomach, and although neither rust can consume that trust with the tooth of corrosion, nor the guile of the stealthy thief snatch it away, nevertheless it vanishes more ignobly in the baser robbery of digestive heat. That they may more carefully fawn upon this tax collecting stomach, they urge the purse to disgorge its treasure, the coffer to vomit its coins. Though within they enrich the belly with wealth of foods, without they are situated in sheer, naked, and lonely poverty. Now this pestilence, not contented with plebeian humility, extends itself quite deeply among prelates. These, degrading the office of baptism, baptize in the base font of spice salmon, pike, and other fish which are exceptional in equal excellence, and have been crucified in various martyrdoms of cookery, to the end that, by coming from such a baptism, they may acquire a varied and agreeable savor. Furthermore, on the same table the beast of the earth is drowned in the flood of spice, the fish swims in it, the bird is . limed in its paste. And while so many species of animals are confined in the single prison-house of a belly, the creature of the sea wonders that the tribes that go on foot and the tribes of the air are buried With it in the same sepulchre. If freedom to go out is given them, the width of the door hardly suffices for their egress.

These evils form the bridge over which the brothels of licentiousness are reached. They are the prelimin-

aries through which one enters into the art of stealing. They are the source of diseases. They beget poverty. They are the nurses of discord, [1] the sisters of madness, the mothers of excess, the seekers after impurity. Because of them humanity transgresses the limits of modesty, disregards the restraints of temperance, breaks to pieces the seals of chastity, pays no heed to the graciousness of my bounty. For though my liberality distributes to men so many dishes of food, and rains upon them such flowing cups, yet they, ungrateful for my favors, misusing lawful things in ways beyond all measure of law, and loosening the bridles of the throat, at the same time overstep the limits of eating and extend the lines of drinking indefinitely. They who seduce their palates with the tang of salts, that they may drink much and often, are still more often made to thirst.

There is also another daughter of Idololatria, whom, if characteristic name is to have similarity in its sound to her real nature, it is fitting to call with apt word Nummulatria. She is Avarice, through whose influence money is deified in men's minds, and the dignity of divine worship is extended to a coin. Through her influence, also, when a coin speaks, the trump of Ciceronian eloquence is hoarse; when a coin goes to war, the lightnings of Hector's warfare cease; when money battles, the strength of Hercules is subdued. For if one is armed with money as with a silver breastplate, the rush of the Ciceronian torrent, the splendor of the onset of Hector, the might and bravery of Hercules, the cunning craft of Ulysses, count only for light trifles. For to such a degree has the hunger for possession burned that subtle dialectics are silent, the culture of rhetoric languishes. When

1.Omitting vel desidiae, with B. and Migne.

abundance of wealth makes the final plea, Cicero sells the riches of his eloquence, Lucretia changes the necklace of her chastity into the price of gold, Penelope resigns the purity and virtue of twenty years to a price. and Hippolytus, if he hear the petitions of the whispering coin, is not willing to treat sternly the entreaties of his stepmother. If money murmurs at the ear of an umpire, the lyre of Orpheus, the song of Amphion, the muse of Virgil, are smothered by its voice. Now the rich man, shipwrecked in the deep of wealth, thinks after money with the fires of dropsical thirst, and is set like a Tantalus in its midst. And the poor man, though he is not able really to practice actual avarice, yet within preserves a spiritual parsimony. O shame! Mass of metal secures honor, which is considered in proportion to the metal's weight. Not Caesar now, but money, is all; for [1] like a mediator it runs through the honors one by one, from the smallest to those of the widest scope. Our patriarch now is money; for it sets some on the supreme throne of an archbishopric, raises others to the honor of a bishop's eminence, fits others for archidiaconal offices, makes others equal to employments in other positions of dignity. What further? Money conquers, money reigns, money commands all. What profits it in the chariot of Ptolomean subtlety to follow elusive astronomy in its swift flight, the prophecies of the stars, to track the free wanderings of the planets; with Euclid to search the inner secrets of the puzzles of geometry, with the intellect to descend into the depths of the sea, to touch the height of heaven by measurements that can be comprehended; with the Milesian to find the harmonious combinations of musical chords; with Pythagoras to examine the

1. Reading quia, with Migne.

rivalry of numbers in the strength of their multiplication ; with Cicero to star oratory with the brilliant constellations of rhetoric; with Aristotle to separate with the two-handed sword of logic the untrue from the true; with Zeno to clothe falsehood in deceptive probability; with Donatus to join the parts of speech in the tones of agreement-since wisdom in our times is rewarded with no pay or profit, no favorable breeze of fame lifts it aloft, and money itself buys the commendations of praise, the titles of honor ?

But wisdom alone surpasses every possession. Though this noble property be scattered abroad, it reunites; though spent, it returns; though confiscated, it gains an increase. Through it the splendid treasure of science is produced in the mysterious secret places of the mind, and the enjoyment of internal delight is acquired. It is the sun from which the mind becomes like day in the midst of shadows ; it is the eye of the heart, the rapturous paradise of the spirit. It turns the earthly into the heavenly by the power of godlike change, the perishable into the immortal, man into God. It is the true cure for error, the only solace for human misfortune, alone the morning-star of the night of humanity, the special redemption from thy misery. No fog of the air blurs its keenness, the thickness of earth does not bar its working, nor depth of water dim its vision. Although among those who are like brutes in bestial sensuality it sickens by reason of their gross vice, yet among those who have raised the spark of reason into its original fire it does not lack the favor of sounding fame. For though wisdom despises flattering applause and unsubstantial. adulation, yet since it is the glorious property of true fame to scorn those who seek after it, and seek after those who Scorn it, it attains fame by fleeing from

it, which it would lose by following. Therefore, if among certain men thou seest -money reigning, knowledge lying prostrate, wealth militant, wisdom in exile, yet do thou with victorious spirit throw down and trample under foot the ignoble hoards of riches, and with the love of inner affection follow after knowledge; for so thou wilt be able with unimpeded gaze to look further into the resting-place of Mother Wisdom.'

Then said I:

'I could wish that, giving free rein to reproof, thou wouldest attack the daughters of Avarice more fiercely.'

Then she, turning the course of her speech to severest censure and invective, said:

METER VII.

Postquam sacra fames auri mortalia pungit.

'After the cursed hunger of gold pierces mortal breasts, the starved mind of man knows not rest.[1] It dissolves friendships, begets hate, incites anger, sows strife, nourishes dissension, lets loose war breaks established bonds, stirs up sons against fathers, mothers against their own bowels, brings it to pass that brothers know not the togas of their brothers, and all those whom union of blood unites one madness wickedly divides. While the passion for having makes the stomach of the mind dropsical, the mind thirsts as it drinks, and, like another Tantalus, burns in the very water, and the abundance of wealth gives intensity to the thirst. So the satiated man hungers, the drunken thirsts, the one with plenty longs, the individual covets everything, and by that very covetousness is made poor, and stays wealthy without, but

1. Reading manere, with Migne.

needy within. The wretch has nothing when he thinks that he has nothing, since [1] his longings balance his riches with poverty. Many enemies invade the lodging of the heart and the walls of his greedy mind, and with great tumult disturb the whole stronghold of the human breast. For fear marches upon the understanding, and likewise covetousness shakes it, and loots the whole city of the mind. Thus the avaricious wretch is agitated by a twofold crowd of cares. And while he fears things worthy to be feared, his mind itself often dreams new terrors and creates fear, and suffers misfortune in the fear of misfortune, and considers adversity and loss with utter consternation. Thus the dreams of terror picture various 3calamities, and fright conjures up falsehood of wife and knavery of thief and assault of enemy, and imagines swords threatening the neck, and the dire thunderbolts of those in power. Now it thinks on the evils of fire, now it conceives of the wrath of the ocean, now it is shipwrecked on blank fear. The mind of the rich man lingers over a coin, while he buries it in his chest, and the buried coin becomes dead to the miser's use. Not he, but the chest, possesses it, and claims the whole value of the money for itself. That the coffer may serve him various dishes of coins, the rich man inflicts the pangs of hunger on his own belly. The belly dreads avarice, and cannot understand why it is denied its proper revenues, and asks aid of the coffer, but the coffer turns to it deaf ears. The vision has food, and the eye makes merry, but, in solitude among silver, the belly is forced to meditate and brood, and suffers hunger with far-reaching desire. Nor do tears, nor the honey of prayers, nor poverty itself, plead so that the rich man does not devour the

1. Reading cum, with Migne.

poor man for his gain, and pinch the wretch's little money-bag. He laughs at the tears of the poor, and feasts on the toil of the wretched, and makes their punishment his own repose. Grief possesses the one, laughter the other; jest the one,. mourning the other. The one groans, the other makes merry; the one grieves, while the other ceases from grieving. All sympathy of the rich and avaricious is lost in a desire for money ; for there is no other pleasure allowed the mind which can turn the face elsewhere. The rich man does not have riches, but is had by them. He is not a possessor of money, but money possesses him, and the miser's soul is buried among coins. These he cherishes as gods, on these idols he lavishes the honor of divine worship, and ascribes godlike powers to them. Thus the reason of man, trampled by covetousness, serves the flesh, and like a handmaid is compelled to wait upon it. Thus the eye of the heart sickens, blind from a fleshly mist, and suffers its eclipse, to lead an inactive life in solitude. Thus the shadow of the flesh basely covers the splendor of human riches, and the glory of mind is made most inglorious. This manner of speech does not decry riches nor rich men, but rather labors to censure error. I do not condemn either possessions, or wealth, or the utility of a rich man, if his conquering spirit, with reason as its master, walks upon the wealth which it has cast below its feet-if, in short, reason, like an able charioteer, shall direct the application of riches. For though a rich man scatters his whole wealth, showers presents, aspires to praise, and desires to gain favor by bounty-yet if the author of this munificence, the leader and director, is not reason, there will be no profit, since gifts do not merit commendation, but rather buy it, unless they be made becomingly and

with discretion. For frequently the return for a gift is hypocritical praise, a false pretense of fame, the ape of renown, a dull honor, a shadow of approval.