Chapter XXII: Appendix (2)

[76] This is excellently amplified by Porphyry in Senten. 32. p. 232, “As the soul’s residence on the earth, (says he) does not consist in being conversant in the earth, as bodies, but in presiding over bodies situated on the earth: so likewise the soul is said to be in Hades, when she presides over her image, which has a nature accommodated to place, but then obtains a subsistence in darkness. Hence if Hades is a subterranean dark place, the soul though not separated from being, dwells in this case in Hades, attracting to herself her image. For the spirit which she had collected from the spheres, attends her in her departure from a solid body. But from her affection towards body, reason having a partial object, according to which, she obtained a habitude towards a body of this kind, while she lived; from this propense affection, a form of the phantasy is impressed on the spirit, and so she attracts the image. But she is said to be in Hades, because she obtains a spirit of a formless and dark nature: and since a heavy and humid spirit, extends to subterranean places, on this account also the soul is said to dwell under the earth; not because her essence passes from place to place, and subsists in place, but because it receives the habits of bodies endued with a natural inclination to local transitions, and the possession of place. And bodies of this kind indeed, receive the soul, according to aptitudes, from a certain disposition towards her nature. For according to her particular disposition, she finds a body defined, correspondent to her order and properties. Hence when the soul is in a more pure condition of being, a body is natural to her, approximating very nearly to that which is immaterial; such as an etherial body. But when she proceeds from reason to the object of imagination, she naturally obtains a solar-form body; and when effeminated and captivated with the love of forms, she is united with a lunar-form body. Lastly, when she falls into bodies composed from humid vapours, a perfect ignorance of being succeeds, and darkness and infancy. And indeed in her egress from body, when she retains a spirit disturbed by a humid evaporation, she attracts a shade, and is weighed down; a spirit of this kind, endeavouring to dwell naturally in the bottom of the earth, unless some other cause draws it into a contrary place. As therefore when surrounded with this terrene shell, it is necessary she should reside on the earth; so likewise when she attracts a humid spirit, it is necessary she should be surrounded with the image. But she attracts moisture, when she continually studies to be present with a nature, whose operation consists in moisture, and is mostly subterranean. But when she endeavours to depart from nature, she becomes a dry splendor, without a shadow, and without a cloud: for humidity constitutes a cloud in the air; but dryness produces from vapour, a dry splendor.”

[77] This _sacred discourse_ composed by Pythagoras was two-fold; one in verse, mentioned by Heraclides, and the other ΠΕΡΙ ΘΕΩΝ, in Doric prose, both which are unfortunately lost. It appears, however, from the present passage, that a part of one of them consisted in explaining the labours of Hercules, who, like Ulysses, is an allegorical character, representing the progress of a man from the impurity of a sensible life, till he acquires the perfection and purity of a life intellectual and divine. Hence Proclus on Plato’s Republic, p. 382. “Hercules being purified by sacred initiations, and having acquired undefiled advantages, deserved a perfect establishment among the gods.” We may conceive, therefore, that by the club of Hercules is meant philosophy, and by his lion’s skin, prudence; through whose assistance he tamed the passions, those monsters of the soul, and destroyed vain cogitations: both which are occultly signified by the twelve labours he endured. I only add that Petavius appears to have been entirely ignorant, that any such writings as the _sacred discourses_, ever existed: for he translates them in one place _sacræ historiæ_, and in another, where they are mentioned in the singular number, (λόγος) _nostra hæc oratio_. Such ignorance may be excusable in the modern priest; but as a man of learning Petavius cannot be defended by any apology in such vile translations.

[78] The Scholium of Nicephorus upon this passage is as follows: “Synesius (says he) calls the dross of matter, that which the phantasy, descending from the supernal spheres, derives from the natural elements of fire and air. And this he observes it is not lawful to leave in the precipice of matter, viz. in the world every way obscure and dark, but it is requisite to draw it upwards, by the assistance of temperance, continence, and the other virtues, and re-elevate it to the etherial world; since there is a place allotted for nature, and the image, in the region every where lucid. But he calls the _image_, the phantastic spirit, as being connate to the rational soul, though of a subordinate nature. For as _intellect_ is the resemblance and image of the divinity, but the _rational soul_ of intellect: so _the phantastic spirit_, or irrational soul, is the image of the rational soul. Hence, as _nature_ or the natural soul, is the image of the phantastic spirit, and of this again _the body_, and of body, _matter_: on this account he observes that the phantasy obtains a certain familiar proportion to the natures which communicate with it on each side, by a certain union and affinity, and by a tendency to the same common end. Hence in its descent it not only acquires fire and air, from the rational soul, which has a supernal situation, but likewise from the natural elements, which are placed beneath.” Nicephori Scholia, p. 390.

[79] “Synesius says that there are two extreme seats, the summits of the universe, one beneath, every way dark, the other above, wholly luminous; and that the former is miserable, but the latter blessed. But because opposites cannot be immediately copulated together, he asserts that in the middle of these two seats, there are many other regions, differing from each other, which he denominates in one part luminous, and in the other obscure, participating of the extremes, and beneath the region totally resplendent with light. Just in the same manner as _cogitation_ is the medium between intellect and soul: but _opinion_ is seated between the phantasy and the soul; and _sense_ between the phantasy and body. And these mediums mutually penetrate, and extend through each other, from body to intellect, and participate all their surrounding natures. As air possesses on each side two extremities and seats, by means of which, it is hot in its supreme situation, through its proximity to elementary fire, but humid in its inferior extremity, through its vicinity to water.’ Nicephori Schoia, p. 392.

[80] The Greek is very defective in this place, which I have endeavoured to supply, as the learned reader may observe.

[81] Pope’s Odyssey, book xix.

[82] There are three editions of this excellent work. The first Greek and Latin by Holstenius, Cantab. 1655; the second by Barnes, prefixed to his Homer; and the third by some German editor, which I have not seen.

[83] I. e. about ten Italian miles.

[84] Viz. a mile and a half.

[85] These verses are not to be found in any of the hymns now extant, ascribed to Homer.

[86] Macrobius in the 12th chapter of his comment on Scipio’s dream, has derived some of the ancient arcana which it contains, from the present part of this admirable work. What he has farther added, I shall translate on account of its excellence, and connection with the above passage of Porphyry. “Pythagoras (says he) thought that the empire of Pluto, began downwards from the milky way, because souls falling from thence, appear already to have receded from the gods. Hence he asserts, that the nutriment of milk is first offered to infants, because their first motion commences from the galaxy, when they begin to fall into terrene bodies. On this account, since those who are about to descend, are yet in _Cancer_, and have not left the milky way, they rank in the order of gods. But when by falling they arrive at the _Lion_; in this constellation, they enter on the exordium of their future condition. And, because in the _Lion_, the rudiments of birth, and certain primary exercises of human nature commence; but _Aquarius_ is opposite to the Lion, and presently sets, after the Lion rises: hence, when the sun is in Aquarius, funeral rites are performed to departed souls; because he is then carried in a sign, which is contrary, or adverse to human life. From the confine, therefore, in which the zodiac, and galaxy touch each other, the soul descending from a round figure, which is the only divine form, is produced into a cone by its defluxion. And as a line is generated from a point, and proceeds into length, from an indivisible; so the soul from its own point, which is a monad, passes into the duad, which is the first protraction. And this is the essence which Plato in the Timæus, calls indivisible, and at the same time divisible, when he speaks of the fabric of the mundane soul. For as the soul of the world, so likewise that of man will be found in one respect ignorant of division, if the simplicity of a divine nature is considered; and in another respect capacious of division, if we regard the diffusion of the former through the world, and of the latter through the members of the body.

As soon, therefore, as the soul gravitates towards body, in this first production of herself, she begins to experience a material tumult, that is, matter flowing into her essence. And this is what Plato remarks in the Phædo, that the soul is drawn into body, staggering with recent intoxication; signifying by this the new drink of matter’s impetuous flood, through which the soul becoming defiled and heavy, is drawn into a terrene situation. But the starry _cup_, placed between Cancer and the Lion, is a symbol of this mystic truth, signifying that descending souls first experience intoxication in that part of the heavens, through the influx of matter. Hence, oblivion the companion of intoxication, there begins silently to creep into the recesses of the soul. For if souls retained in their descent to bodies, the memory of divine concerns of which they were conscious in the heavens, there would be no dissension among men, concerning divinity. But all, indeed, in descending drink of oblivion; though some more, and others less. On this account, though truth is not apparent to all men on the earth, yet all exercise their opinions about it: because _a defect of memory, is the origin of opinion_. But those discover most, who have drank least of oblivion: because they easily remember what they had known before in the heavens. Hence, that which is called _lectio_ by the Latins, is called by the Greeks ἀνάγνωσις, or _repeated knowledge_; because when we learn any truths, we recognize what we naturally knew, before material influxion, rushing into the body, had intoxicated the soul. But it is this _hyle_ or matter which composes all that body of the world, which we every where perceive adorned with the impressions of forms. Its highest and purest part, however, by which divine natures, are either sustained, or composed, is called nectar, and is believed to be the drink of the gods: but its more inferior and turbid part, is the drink of souls. And this is what the ancients have denominated the river of Lethe. But according to the Orphic writers the νοῦς ὑλικὸς, or _material intellect_, is Bacchus, who proceeding from that indivisible part, is divided into particulars. Hence, in the Orphic mysteries, he is reported to have been torn in pieces, by Titanic fury, and the fragments being buried, are said to have risen entire, and collected into one; because intellect by passing into a divisible from an indivisible nature, and again returning from divisible to indivisible, both accomplishes the duties of the world, and does not desert the arcana of its own nature.

The soul, therefore, falling with this first weight, from the zodiac, and milky-way into each of the subject spheres, is not only clothed with the accession of a luminous body, but produces the particular motions, which is to exercise in the respective orbs. Thus in Saturn, it energises according to a ratiocinative and intellective power, which they call λογιϛικὸν and θεωρητικὸν: in the sphere of Jove, according to the power of acting, which is called πρακτικὸν: in that of Mars, according to the ardour of courage, which is denominated θυμικὸν: in the orb of the sun, according to a sensitive and phantastic nature, which they call αἰσθητικὸν and φανταϛικὸν: but according to the motion of desire, which is denominated ἐπιθυμητικὸν, in the planet Venus: of pronouncing and interpreting what it perceives, which is called ἑρμηνευτικὸν, in the orb of Mercury; and according to a plantal nature, and a power of acting on body, which is denominated φυτικὸν, when it enters the lunar globe. And this sphere, as it is the last among the divine orders, so it is the first in our terrene situation. For this body, as it is the dregs of divine concerns; so it is the first substance of an animal. And this is the difference between terrene and supernal bodies (under which last, I comprehend the heavens, the stars, and the other elements) that the latter are called upwards to be the seat of the soul, and merit immortality from the very nature of the region, and an imitation of sublimity; but the soul is drawn down to these terrene bodies, and is on this account reported to die, when it is inclosed in this fallen region, and the seat of mortality. Nor ought it to cause any disturbance, that we have so often named the death of the soul, which we have pronounced to be immortal. For the soul is not extinguished by its own proper death, but is only overwhelmed for a time. Nor does it lose the benefit of perpetuity, by its temporal demersion: since when it deserves to be purified from the contagion of vice, through its entire refinement from body; it will be restored to the light of perennial life, and will return to its pristine integrity and perfection.”

[87] Iliad. lib. xx. l. 223, &c.

[88] In the original ἱϛᾶσιν οὖν καὶ σύμβολον τῆς μεσημβρίας καὶ τοῦ νότου, ἐπὶ ῇ θύρᾳ μεσημβριάζοντος τοῦ θεοῦ. Which Holstenius translates most erroneously, as follows: “Austrum igitur meridei symbolum statuunt: cum Deus meridiano tempore ostio immineat.”

[89] Iliad. lib. ix. l. 579.

[90] Iliad. lib. viii. l. 395.

[91] Iliad. lib. viii. l. 393.

[92] This assertion of Pythagoras that _the people of dreams_, δῆμος ὀνείρων, are souls situated in the milky way, admirably contributes to elucidate the following passage in the 24th book of the Odyssey, respecting the descent of the suitors’ souls to the region of spirits:

Πὰρ δ’ ἴσαν Ὠκεανοῦ τε ῥοὰς καὶ Λευκάδα πέτρην,
Η’δὲ παρ’ ἠελίοιο πύλας καὶ δῆμον ὀνείρων
Ἤισαν, αἶψα δ’ ἴκοντο κατ’ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,
Ἔνθά τε ναίουσι ψυχαὶ εἴδωλα καμόντων.

i.e. “But they passed beyond the flowing waters of the ocean, and the rock Leucas, and the gates of the sun, and _the people of dreams_: and they immediately came into meadows of asphodel, where souls the images of the dead reside.” For it is evident from hence that the souls of the suitors passed through the galaxy, or the seats of the blessed, according to the most ancient theology: and I doubt not but Homer describes in these lines the complicated progression of an impure soul till it regains its original habitation in the stars, and again begins to gravitate to this terrene abode. This, I presume, will be manifest from the following elucidation of these admirable lines.

In the first place these souls are said to pass over _the flowing waters of the ocean_, and _the Leucadian_, or _white rock_. Now by this nothing more is meant than the flight of the suitors’ souls to the extremity of the earth, in order to a subterranean descent: for, according to the most ancient opinion, the earth is bounded by the ocean; and the Leucadian rock may, as Eustathius observes, be some rock on the earth’s extremity, which receives the last rays of the sun. Afterwards they are said to pass through _the gates of the sun_, by which, as Porphyry informs us above, we must understand the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn: and as Capricorn is subterranean, and affords a passage to ascending immortals, we must conceive that they enter through this prior to the tropic of Cancer. But in order to comprehend the perfect propriety of this transition, we must observe that the souls of the suitors on account of their impurity, are punished in the recesses of the earth, before they enter the celestial tropics, and pass into the meadows of Pluto. This the poet evidently evinces by the _screaking noise_, which they utter, and the squalid paths, through which they descend: a noise of this kind as Proclus well observes, (in Plat. Repub.) “representing a species of life solely given to appetite and imagination.” After they have been purified therefore by subterranean punishment, they are fit to ascend to _the people of dreams_, or the souls of the blessed situated in the milky way. However as the soul, on account of her middle nature, is incapable of a perpetual sameness of situation, but is formed for infinite circulations (as will be demonstrated in the following elements); hence Homer, without mentioning her duration among the gods, though it is doubtless very extended, agreeable to the mystic brevity of his Muse, makes her immediately pass into _the meadows of Asphodel, where souls the images of the dead reside_. Now these _meadows of Asphodel_, form the supreme part of Plato’s dominions: for, according to Pythagoras, as we are informed by Macrobius, in the preceding note to page 287, the empire of Pluto commences downwards from the milky way; so that these meadows are most probably situated in _the Lion_, the constellation into which souls first fall, after they leave the tropic of Cancer. But the description of the Asphodel, perfectly corresponds with, and confirms the preceding exposition. For the Asphodel is a plant, bearing a naked _starry flower_, which comprehends an ovarium, or _orbicular figure_, after the manner of a cup. And what can more aptly symbolize with the stars, than such a flower? It was usual too with the ancients to scatter this plant in the tombs of the deceased; occultly intimating most probably, the similitude of this flower to the pristine and proper habitations of the soul. And hence it derived its appellation from σποδός, _ashes_, διὰ τὴν τῶν καιομένων νεκρῶν σποδόν, i.e. _from the ashes of burnt dead bodies_.

In these meadows, then, _the images of the dead_ are said to reside. Now these εἴδωλα, or _images_, are no other than those vehicles of the soul, which have been so copiously, and admirably discussed by Synesius, in the preceding quotation from his book on dreams, and which, from their residence in the starry regions, must be luciform, etherial, and pure. It is this phantastic spirit, or primary vehicle of the soul, which Virgil alludes to, in these beautiful lines:

----exinde per amplum
Mittimur Elysium, et pauci læta arva tenemus:
Donec longa dies perfecto temporis orbe
Concretum exemit labem, purumque reliquit
Ætherium sensum, atque auraï simplicis iguem.

i.e. “We are afterwards sent through ample Elysium, and a few of us possess the joyful plains: till a long period, when the revolving orb of time has perfected its circulation, frees the soul from its concrete stains, and leaves the etherial sense pure, together with _the fire (or splendour) of simple æther_.” For here he evidently conjoins the rational soul, or _the etherial sense_, with its splendid vehicle, or _the fire of simple ether_; since it is well known that this vehicle according to Plato, is rendered by proper purgation αὐγοειδές, or _luciform_, and divine. It must here however be observed that souls in these _meadows of asphodel_, or _summit of Pluto’s empire_, are in a falling state; or in other words through the secret influx of matter, begin to desire a terrene situation. And this explains the reason why Hercules in the infernal regions, is represented by Homer boasting of his terrene exploits and glorying in his pristine valour: why Achilles laments his situation in these abodes; and souls in general are engaged in pursuits, similar to their employments on the earth: for all this is the natural consequence of a propensity to a mortal nature, and a desertion of the regions every way lucid and divine. Let the reader too observe, that, according to the arcana of the Platonic doctrine, the first and truest seat of the soul, is in the intelligible world, where she lives entirely divested of body, and enjoys the ultimate felicity of her nature. And this is what Homer divinely insinuates when he says:

Τὸν δὲ μέτ’, εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην,
Εἴδωλον· αὐτὸς δὲ μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
Τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς, καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην.----κ. τ. λ.

i.e. “after this I saw the Herculean power, or _image_: but Hercules himself is with the immortal gods, delighting in celestial banquets, and enjoying the beautiful-footed Hebe.” Since for the soul to dwell with the gods entirely separated from its vehicle, is to abide in the intelligible world, and to exercise, as Plotinus expresses it, the more sacred contests of wisdom.

Should it be enquired why departed souls, though in a state of felicity are compared by Homer to _dreams_ and shadows, I answer with Porphyry (apud Stob. p. 132.) that they are shadows with respect to human concerns, both because they are destitute of body, and are void of memory: for after they have passed the Stygian river, they are entirely ignorant of their pristine life on the earth, though they recognize, and converse with each, other, as is evident from the discourses between Patroclus, Ajax, and Antilochus. Indeed together with memory, they lose all knowledge of corporeal resemblances, which are rendered apparent through the ministry of the phantasy. For since the phantasy consists from memory, as Plato asserts in the Phelebus; whatever we imagine perishes with the memory; and when this is taken away all the perturbations of the soul are removed, as she then becomes wholly intellectual and passes into a state divinely prudent and wise. However, by means of the blood, which, as we have before observed, is, according to Homer, the instrument of the phantastic soul, departed spirits recognize material forms, and recollect their pristine condition on the earth. And to the phantasy reasoning pertains; since it is nothing more than an aggregation of memory, collected through imaginations, into the judgment of universals. But this is very different from the _intellective energy_, acquired by the soul beyond Acheron, which Cocytus and Pyriphlegethon fill, from the whirling streams of the dreadful Styx. Let the reader, however, remember that the phantasy is two-fold, communicating in its supreme part with the rational soul, and in its inferior part with sense; and that it is this inferior part which the soul deserts, when it acquires an intellectual condition of being.

[93] Iliad xxiv. l. 527.

[94] This was no doubt fully proved by Porphyry, in some of his unfortunately lost writings; such as his book _on the philosophy of Homer_; or that, _on the Allegories of the Grecian and Egyptian Theology_, of which we have already made mention. However, it does not seem impossible, from the hints afforded us in this excellent treatise, for a person conversant in the Platonic philosophy, to evince the truth of this assertion. Presuming, therefore, that an attempt of this kind will be acceptable to the liberal reader, though my abilities are far inferior to those of Porphyry; I shall request his attention to the contents, and his pardon for the length of the ensuing discourse. I only promise, that I shall make use of a small treatise in Greek, on the wanderings of Ulysses, by an anonymous author, where he appears to have penetrated the sense of the allegory; and freely reject his in terpretation, when foreign from the leading character of Ulysses, above mentioned, according to Numenius and Porphyry.

The first apparently fabulous adventure then of Ulysses, is that of the Lotophagi; a coast upon which he was driven by the violence of the winds; and which produced a fruit called Lotos, whose enchanting taste caused oblivion, and a vehement desire of perpetually abiding with the Lotophagi. Or as it is beautifully described by Homer, in the elegant version of Mr. Pope:

The trees around them all their fruit produce,
Lotos the name, divine, nectarious juice!
(Thence call’d Lotophagi) which whoso tastes,
Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
Nor other home, nor other care intends,
But quits his house, his country, and his friends:
The three we sent from off th’ enchanting ground
We dragg’d reluctant, and by force we bound:
The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,
Or, the charm tasted, had return’d no more.

Lib. ix. l. 94. &c.

Here we view Ulysses subject to different desires, and blown about by contrary blasts of fortune, inconsiderately permitting the various affections of his soul to be engaged in improper employments; who, after they have tasted of sensual pleasures, and fraudulent manners, refuse to return to ruling intellect, and the natural good habits of the soul. Hence, fascinated by delight, they consign their country and kindred to oblivion; and desire to live forever lost in the intoxication of pleasure. Reason, however, no longer sustaining that her dignity should be obscured by depraved enjoyment, immediately recalls the affections from fraudulent deeds; which is represented by Ulysses withdrawing his men from the coasts of Lotophagi. After this she binds and restrains them, by the most weighty arguments, so as to prevent them from afterwards returning to evil. And indeed, she treats the affected parts of the soul, in a manner accommodated to their disease; and strengthens and fortifies such as are not affected, and removes them from the possession of noxious delight.

The next adventure of Ulysses is that of the Cyclops, whom he deprived of sight, and irritated with reproaches. Now, according to Porphyry in the above excellent treatise, this is no other than a malignant natal dæmon, who destroys by his stratagems the good affections of the soul; which is occultly signified by Ulysses loosing his companions, through the brutal appetite of the destructive dæmon. Ulysses, however, lamenting the dreadful effects of his voluntary confinement, meditates, and at length accomplishes his deliverance, together with that of the remaining good habits of his soul; and glories in resuming the liberty he has lost. But this fable indeed contains one of the greatest arcana of philosophy: for this is what Synesius occultly intimates, in the preceding quotation from his book on dreams; when he speaks of matter marking her votaries in her secret volume, and severely punishing such as desert from her service. Thus Ulysses after a voluntary submission to his natal dæmon, by indulging the irrational appetites and desires of his soul, flies from his base servitude; and adds irritations to his flight. He is, however, pursued by the anger of the marine and material dæmons, and punished for his escape. For he who blinds the eye of sense, and extinguishes its light, after his will has profoundly assented to its use, must expect punishment for the attempt; as necessary to his own private good, and the general order of the universe. Indeed, troubles and misfortunes resulting from such undertakings, not only contribute to appease the anger of their malevolent authors, but likewise purify and benefit the subjects of their revenge. He, therefore, who in the present life, perceives himself like Ulysses, attended by uncommon misfortunes, while he is in the road of virtue, and eagerly searching for wisdom, may safely conclude, that either here, or in a prior state of existence, he has voluntarily submitted to the power of his natal dæmon, and has now deprived him of sight; and that he has been profoundly delighted with the nature of matter, and is now abrogating the confessions which he made. This too is insinuated in the beautiful story of Psyche, by Apuleius, when the terrestrial Venus, sends Mercury, with a book in which her name is inscribed, to apprehend Psyche as a fugitive from her mistress. For this whole story relates to the descent of the soul into this terrene body, and its wanderings and punishments till it returns to its true country and pristine felicity. And this I may probably demonstrate in some future period, by publishing a translation of this admirable fable, and a comment on the divine mysteries it contains. We must here, however, observe, that as the advancements of Ulysses in virtue are but moderate, till he leaves Calypso; so the greatest of his troubles commence after that period, as our discourse will shortly evince.

In the next fable, which is that of Æolus, a being, as the name implies, various and versatile, though hospitable and benignant, we see Ulysses sorrowful and wandering, through the anger of his natal dæmon, enquiring after a refuge from misfortune; though not as becomes one studious of piety, but committing himself to enchanters and magicians, and relying on their incantations for his deliverance from danger. He cannot, however, accomplish his end, by such undertakings, but remains frustrated of his hope, and filled with shame for his disappointment. The Poet too, by attributing the ill success of Ulysses to his sleep, egregiously insinuates that the rational soul was in a dormant state, when he confided in practices so incapable of producing the desired end, and so inconsistent with the goods which intellect confers. Such methods, indeed, as they increase the desire of success, so they present strongly to our view, the distant object of our pursuit; but this is immediately succeeded by the sleep of reason, and the destruction of hope. And this is what Homer, appears to signify, by the following verses:

Nine prosp’rous days, we ply’d the lab’ring oar;
The tenth presents our welcome native shore:
The hills display the beacon’s friendly light,
And rising mountains gain upon our sight.
Then first my eyes by watchful toils opprest,
Comply’d to take the balmy gifts of rest;
Then first my hands did from the rudder part,
(So much the love of home possess’d my heart.)

Lib. x. l. 28, &c.

And hence;

---- ---- ---- the thongs unbound,
The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;
Snatch’d in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,
The ocean widen’d, and the shores withdrew.

After this succeeds the adventure of the Lestrigons which seems to indicate the yet imperfect condition of Ulysses’ nature, unable to distinguish the coast of virtue, from the infamous regions of vice. Hence he becomes an involuntary prey to the depredations of depraved manners; and is for some time incapable of exerting the power of reason. However, at length perceiving the magnitude of the evils with which he is surrounded, he cuts the detaining cables of vice, and flies from his dangerous situation; deploring, indeed the ruined state of his better manners, but rejoicing that his principal part has escaped, and that he is not totally destroyed. And this the poet appears to me to insinuate by the following verses:

Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,
My sword our cables cut, I call’d to weigh;
And charg’d my men, as they from fate would fly
Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply.
The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,
And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas;
Clear of the rocks th’ impatient vessel flies;
Whilst in the port each wretch encumber’d dies.
With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,
While kindling transports glow’d at our success;
But the sad fate that did our friends destroy
Cool’d every breast, and damp’d the rising joy.

Lib. x. l. 125, &c.

In the next fable, which is the beautiful allegory of Circe, we shall find some deep arcana of philosophy contained, exclusive of its connection with Ulysses. By the Æean island then, in which the palace of Circe was situated, we must conceive the region of sorrow and lamentation; for this word is evidently derived from the interjection αἲ, _alas!_ and the adjective αἰηνὲς, _lamentable_. And by Circe we must understand the goddess of sense: for thus Porphyry in Stobæus p. 141. Ὅμηρος δὲ τὸν ἐν κύκλῳ περίοδον καὶ περιφορὰν παλιγγενεσίας, Κίρκην προσηγόρευκεν, ἡλίου παῖδα, τοῦ πᾶσαν φθορὰν γενέσει, καὶ γένεσιν αὖ πάλιν φθορᾷ συνάπτοντες ἀεὶ καὶ συνείροντος. i.e. “Homer calls Circe, the daughter of the sun, the period and revolution of regeneration in a circle, who ever connects and combines all corruption with generation, and generation again with corruption.” Hence, we may observe that the Æean isle, or this region of sense, is with great propriety called the abode of trouble and lamentation. In this region then, the companions of Ulysses, that is, the thoughts and natural powers of his soul, are changed by the incantations of the goddess; and his opinions and natural motions, rashly wandering from the authority of ruling intellect, are converted through the allurements of delight, into an unworthy and irrational habit. Ulysses, however, or the rational soul, is by the assistance of Mercury, or reason, prevented from destruction. Hence, intellect roused by its impassive power, and recollecting the ills which its natural faculties endure; at the same time, being armed with prudent anger, and the plant moly, or virtue, which is able to repel the allurements of pleasure, wars on the goddess of sense, and prevents the effects of her fascinating charms. Nor is reason alone free from the dire incantations of delight, but it likewise restores to their proper form the powers of nature, which had been previously corrupted; and thus departs a gainer by its loss. For he who returns to himself from the dominion of vice, derives at least this advantage in his return, that he becomes afterwards more prudent in resisting its incursions, and employs his first defeat as an incitement to the acquisition of virtue. It must here, however, be observed that Ulysses is an involuntary offender, in all his adventures posterior to that of the Cyclops. His passions, indeed, hurry him into various vices and misfortunes, but his will by no means concurs with their endurance. But his connection with his natal dæmon was voluntary; and after his departure from hence, he must be considered as in a gradual course of purification, though his progress in virtue is but small, till the latter part of his abode with Calypso.

But Homer’s account of Circe, exclusive of its relation to Ulysses, contains, according ta Porphyry (in Stob. p. 141), an admirable explanation of the soul. “For thus, (says he) Homer speaks:

No more was seen the human form divine;
Head, face, and member, bristle into swine:
Still curst with sense, there _minds_ remain alone,
And their own voice, affrights them when they groan.

Lib. x. l. 239, &c.

This fable, therefore, is the enigma of the opinions of Pythagoras and Plato respecting the soul; signifying that it is of an incorruptible and eternal nature, but not void of passion and mutability; since by dissolution and death, it is capable of being transmuted and changed, into other corporeal forms; and by its desire of pleasure it pursues a form adapted and allied to the condition of its life. And in this the assistance of learning and philosophy is perceived, if the soul, mindful of what is honest, and disdaining base and unlawful pleasures, can govern and defend herself from being changed into a beast; and from embracing a brutal and impure body, which increases and nourishes a nature dull and irrational, together with desire and anger, rather than reason. Indeed, the order and nature of this transmutation is predicated by the dæmon of Empedocles, when he says:

Σαρκῶν ἀλλόγνωτι περιϛέλλουσα χιτῶνι.
Καὶ μετ’ ἀμπέχουσα τὰς ψυχάς.

i.e. _folding round the external garment of flesh; and afterwards investing souls with its covering_. But the Æean isle, which receives the dead body is that part of the continent, into which souls first descending wander and lament, and are ignorant

---- ---- what coast before them lies
Or where the sun shall set, or where shall rise.

Indeed, since through the love of pleasure, they desire an association, and nourishment in the flesh, and in conjunction with its nature, they again fall into the confused mixture of generation, truly mingling things eternal and mortal, prudence and passion, celestials, and terrestrials; ensnared and fascinated by pleasures, again leading to the fluctuating realms of generation. And in this case, souls particularly require the greatest felicity and prudence; lest pursuing the most base concerns, and becoming bound to their parts and passions, they obtain an unhappy and brutal life. For that which is called the τριοδος, or triple path of Hades, is perceived in the _rational_, _irascible_, and _desiderative_ parts of the soul; each of which contains the principle of a life convenient to its nature. And these assertions are not to be reckoned the figments of fables and the inventions of poets, but are to be esteemed as true and natural discourses. For those whose _desires_, in their mutation and generation, obtain the principality, will be changed into assinine bodies, and an impure life, through the dominion of gluttony and lust. But when the soul raging with weighty contentions, and odious cruelties, seeks a second generation, it betakes itself full of recent severity, into the nature of a wolf, or lion; acquiring a body of this kind as a defensive organ, adapted to its ruling affection. Hence, it is requisite that every one should be pure with respect to death, as in the sacred mysteries of initiation, by banishing every depraved affection, mitigating every desire, and expelling envy and anger from all connection with the body. And this is the true Mercury with his rod of gold, the clear indicator of honest conduct, who entirely prohibits and restrains the soul from the mixture of generation; or if she should drink the envenomed potion, preserves her in a human life, as long as can possibly be effected.”

After this follows the allegory, respecting the descent of Ulysses into the infernal regions, which, exclusive of its connection with Ulysses, contains likewise some of the greatest arcana of the Grecian theology. As it respects Ulysses, it appears to me to insinuate, his flying to the assistance of necromancy, in order to know the result of the ills with which he is surrounded, through the anger of his natal dæmon. Hence Tiresias is nothing more than a departed spirit evocated by magical art, for the purpose of disclosing the secrets of futurity, and informing Ulysses how he may return to the true empire of his mind. The success, however, was not answerable to the certainty of the information: and perhaps Homer meant to intimate by this allegory, that the end of such illicit practises is never correspondent to the desires by which they are undertaken. Hence he plainly indicates the madness of such a conduct, by the consequences which may possibly attend its execution; and by the hortor which forced Ulysses to hasten its conclusion: for thus Ulysses speaks:

Curious to view the kings of ancient days,
The mighty dead that live in endless praise,
Resolv’d I stand; and haply had survey’d
The god-like Theseus, and Perithous’ shade;
But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,
With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell,
They scream, they shriek; sad groans and dismal sounds
Stun my fear’d ears, and pierce hell’s utmost bounds.
No more my heart the dismal din sustains,
And my cold blood hangs shiv’ring in my veins;
Lest Gorgon rising from th’ infernal lakes,
With horrors arm’d, and curls of hissing snakes,
Should fix me stiffen’d at the monstrous sight,
A stony image, in eternal night!

Lib. ii. l. 627. &c.

Indeed by such a conduct, he becomes impious, profane, and execrable; till he returns to that condition of mind, in which the judgement of reason, and the light of intellect emerges through the gloom of impiety and folly; and prudent cogitations dance round the liberated soul. For in this case it may be truly said:

Here the gay morn resides in radiant bow’rs,
Here keeps her revels with the dancing hours.

Lib. xii. l. 3. & 4.

With respect to the recondite wisdom contained in the description of the infernal regions, I shall only observe from Porphyry (ap. Stob. p. 131.) that the reason why departed spirits, are represented as possessing no knowledge of human concerns, till they inhale the vapour of blood, is because according to Homer and many of his successors, human intelligence or prudence consists in blood. And this says Porphyry is confirmed by the testimony of most writers posterior to Homer, who inform us that when the blood is inflamed by a fever or the bile, imprudence and foolishness is produced. But Empedocles considered the blood as an instrument of prudence, when he says:

Αἵματος ἐν πελάγεσι εθραμμένη ἀντιθορόντος,
Τῆ τε νόημα μάλιϛα κικλήσκεται ἀνθρώποισιν.
Αἶμα γὰρ ἀνθρώποις περικάρδιόν ἐϛι νόημα.

The sense of which is, “that the blood surrounding the heart is the seat of intelligence in men.”

But we must now view Ulysses passing from sense to imagination; in the course of which voyage, he is assailed by various temptations, of surprising power, and destructive effect. We shall perceive him victorious in some of these, and sinking under others; but struggling against the incursions of all. Among the first of these is the enchanting melody of the Sirens,

Whose song is death, and makes destruction please.

By which the poet evidently signifies alluring and fraudulent pleasures, which charm the soul in its passage from a sensible life, with flattering and mellifluous incantations. These delights however will be vanquished by him, who, imitating the example of Ulysses, closes, with divine reasons and energies as with wax, the powers of the soul, and the organs of sense; so that every passage being barred from access, they may in vain warble the song of extacy, and expect to ruin the soul by the enchanting strain. It will however be requisite that besides this, the corporeal assaults, should be restrained by the bands of philosophy, and rendered irresistible by external machines: for thus like Ulysses, we shall employ the senses, without yielding to their impetuous invasions; and experience delight without resigning the empire of reason to its fascinating controul.

Ulysses having escaped the danger of the Syrens, passes on to the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis, of terrific appearance, and irresistible force. By these two rocks, the poet seems to signify the affections compressing human life on both sides; and which every one must experience; who proceeds like Ulysses in a regular manner to an intellectual state of existence. Some of these, which are conversant with the soul, are like Scylla, of a lofty malignity; fraudulent yet latent, and obscure, as concealed in the penetralia of the mind. And such is pride, and other depraved affections of the soul. In these recesses, a dæmon, the prince of such affections resides, a dire and enraged dog, who partly exposes his own malice, and partly hides it in impenetrable obscurity. Hence he is capable of producing mischief in a two-fold respect: for he privately hurts by malignant stratagems, openly ravishes the soul, on the lofty rock of haughtiness; and rends it with the triple evil of deadly teeth, I mean revolt, hatred of humanity, and haughty arrogance. Indeed a dæmon of this kind will be perpetually vigilant, in endeavouring to destroy, at one time the whole, and at another time a part of the soul, struggling like Ulysses against passion, and yielding reluctantly to its invasions.

But the other affections which belong to the body, are indeed lofty, and evidently destructive, but far inferior to the others; since their baseness is conspicuous, and not concealed by ostentation. A wild fig-tree, that is the will, is produced on the top of this rock; wild indeed, on account of its free nature, but sweet in fruition; and under which, often through the day, the impetuosities of the boiling body, are accustomed to absorb; and disturb the man, agitating upwards and downwards inflamed desire, so that mighty destruction both to soul and body, is produced by their mutual consent. But it is highly proper that a rock of this last kind, should be anxiously avoided by one, who like Ulysses is labouring to return to his true country and friends. Hence if necessity requires he will rather expose himself to the other: for there the energy of cogitation, and of the souls simple motions, is alone necessary to be exerted; and it is easy to recover the pristine habit of the soul. In short the poet, seems to represent by this allegory of the two rocks, as well the dangers spontaneously arising from the soul, as those which happen from the external mass of matter; both of which must be sustained, or one at least by a necessary consequence. For it is impossible that neither of them should be experienced by any one, who is passing over the stormy ocean of a sensible life.

After this succeeds the allegory of the Trinacrean isle, containing the herds sacred to the god of day, which were violated by the companions of Ulysses; but not without destruction to the authors of this impiety, and the most dreadful danger to Ulysses. By the result of this fable, the poet evidently shews that punishment attends the sacrilegious, and the perjured; and teaches us that we should perpetually reverence divinity with the greatest sanctity of mind, and be cautious how we commit any thing in divine concerns contrary to piety of manners, and purity of thought. But Homer by attributing sense to the flesh and hides of the stain herds, manifestly evinces, that every base deed, universally proclaims the iniquity of its author: but that perjury and sacrilege are attended with the most glaring indications of guilt, and the most horrid signatures of approaching vengeance, and inevitable ruin. We may here too observe that the will of Ulysses, was far from consenting to this impious deed; and that though his passions prevailed at length over his reason, it was not till after frequent admonitions had been employed, and great diligence exerted to prevent its execution. This indeed is so eminently true, that his guilt was the consequence of surprize, and not of premeditated design; which Homer appears to insinuate, by relating that Ulysses was asleep, when his associates committed the offence.

In the next fable, we find Ulysses impelled, by the southern wind, towards the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis; in the latter of which he found safety, by clinging on the fig-tree which grew on its summit, till he refunded the mast, on which he rode after the tempest. But the secret meaning of the allegory appears to me as follows: Ulysses who has not yet taken his leave of a sensible life, is driven by the warmth of passion, represented by the southern gales, into the dire charybdis of insane desires, which frequently boiling over, and tossing on high the storms of deprived affections, plunges into ruin, the soul obnoxious to its waves. However he is far from shameful idleness, and careless security; but perceiving the danger to which he is exposed, when the base storms begin to swell, and the whirlpool of depravity roar, he seizes the helm of temperance, and binds himself fast to the solid texture of his remaining virtue. The waves of desire are indeed tempestuous in the extreme; but before he is forcibly merged by the rage of the affections, into the depths of depravity, he tenaciously adheres to his unconsenting will, seated as it were on the lofty summit of terrene desire. For this like the wild fig-tree affords the best refuge to the soul struggling with the billows of base perturbations. Hence he by this means recovers the integrity which he had lost, and afterwards swims without danger over the wares of temptation; ever watchful and assiduous while he sails through this impetuous river of the flesh, and is exposed to the stormy blasts of heated passion and destructive vice. Hence too while he is thus affected, and anxious lest the loss from unworthy affections should return upon himself, he will escape being lacerated by the teeth of arrogance, though she should terribly and fiercely bark in the neighbourhood of desire, and endeavour like Scylla, to snatch him on her lofty rock. For these who are involuntarily disturbed like Ulysses by the billows of desire, suffer no inconvenience from the depraved rock of pride: but considering the danger of their present situation, they relinquish confident conceit, for modest diffidence, and anxious hope.

Hitherto we have followed Ulysses in his voyage over the turbulent and dangerous ocean of sense; in which we have seen him struggling against the storms of temptation, and in danger of perishing through the tempestuous billows of vice. We must now attend him in the region of imagination, and mark his progress from the enchanted island, till he regains the long lost empire of his soul. That the poet they by Calypso occultly signifies the phantasy, is I think evident from his description of her abode, (for the anonymous Greek author, affords us no farther assistance.) For she is represented as dwelling in a cavern, illuminated by a great fire; and this cave, is surrounded with a thick wood, is watered by four fountains, and is situated in an island, far remote from any habitable parts, and invironed by the mighty ocean. All which particulars correspond with the phantasy, as I presume the following observations will evince. In the first place then, as the phantasy is situated between sense and cogitation, it communicates with each in such a manner that its beginning is the end of the cogitative power, and its end is the commencement of the senses. Hence on account of its two-fold nature it partakes of a two-fold light; receiving in its supreme part the splendor of cogitation, and in its inferior part, a light corresponding to that of sense. Now it is this inferior part or the common phantasy, which is represented by the cave of Calypso, for its light is artificial and external like that of fire: and this correspondence is evident from the etymology of the phantasy, which is derived from φάος, or _light_. In the next place the island is said to be surrounded with a thick wood, which evidently corresponds to a material nature, or this humid body, with which the phantasy is invested: for ὕλη, or _a wood_, implies matter according to its primary signification. But the four fountains by which the cave is watered occultly intimate those four gnostic powers of the soul discovered by the Pythagoreans, and embraced by Plato; _intelligence_, _cogitation_, _opinion_, and _imagination_. And these fountains are said, with great propriety and correspondence to communicate with each other. In the last place the island is said to be invironed with the ocean, which admirably agrees with a corporeal nature, forever flowing without admitting any periods of repose. And thus much for the secret agreement of the cavern and island with the regions of imagination.

But the poet by denominating the goddess, Calypso, and the island, Ogygia, appears to me, very evidently to confirm the preceding exposition: for Calypso is derived from καλύπτω, which means _to cover as with a veil_; and Ogygia, is from ὠγύγιος, _ancient_. Now, as we have been previously informed by Synesius, the phantastic spirit, is the primary vehicle of the rational soul, which it derived from the planetary spheres, and in which it descended to the corporeal world. It may therefore with great propriety be said to cover the soul, as with a fine garment, or veil; and it is no less properly denominated _ancient_, when considered as the first vehicle of the soul.

In this region of the phantasy then, Ulysses is represented as an involuntary captive; continually employed in bewailing his absence from his true country, and ardently longing to depart from the fascinating embraces of the goddess. For thus his situation is beautifully described by the poet:

But sad Ulysses by himself apart,
Pour’d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;
All on the lonely shore he sat to weep,
And roll’d his eyes around the restless deep;
Tow’rd his lov’d coast, he roll’d his eyes in vain,
’Till dim’d with rising grief they stream’d again.

Lib. v. 1. 82. &c.

His return however, is at length effected by means of Mercury, or reason, who prevails on the goddess to yield to his dismission. Hence after her consent, Ulysses is said with great propriety, to have placed himself on the throne, where Mercury had sate: for reason now resumes her proper seat, and begins to exercise her authority with undisturbed controul. But Homer appears to me to insinuate something egregious, when he represents Ulysses on his departure from Calypso, sailing by night, and contemplating the order and light of the stars, in the following beautiful lines: