Or half a century hence embalmed in print:
For if mankind intend to learn at all,
They must begin by giving faith to them,
And acting on them; and I do not see
But that my lectures serve indifferent well:
No doubt these dogmas fall not to the earth,
For all their novelty and rugged setting.
I think my class will not forget the day
I let them know the gods of Israel,
Aëtius, Oribasius, Galen, Rhasis,
Serapion, Avicenna, Averroes,-
Were blocks!
And that reminds me, I heard something
About your waywardness: you burned their books,
It seems, instead of answering those sages.
With Ecolampadius. As you know, the purpose
Of this short stay at Basil was to learn
His pleasure touching certain missives sent
For our Zuinglius and himself. 'Twas he
Apprised me that the famous teacher here
Was my old friend.
Ah, I forgot: you went...
Fest. From Zürich with advices for the ear
Of Luther, now at Wittemburg-(you know,
I make no doubt, the differences of late
With Carolostadius)-and returning sought
Basil and...
1 remember. Here's a case, now,
Will teach you why I answer not, but burn
The books you mention: pray, does Luther dream
His arguments convince by their own force
The crowds that own his doctrine? No, indeed:
His plain denial of established points
Ages had sanctified and men supposed
Could never be oppugned while earth was under
And heaven above them-points which chance, or time
Affected not-did more than the array
Of argument which followed.
There is much breath-stopping, hair-stiffening
Awhile; then, amazed glances, mute awaiting
The thunderbolt which does not come; and next,
Reproachful wonder and inquiry: those
Who else had never stirred, are able now
To find the rest out for themselves-perhaps
To outstrip him who set the whole at work,
-As never will my wise class its instructor.
And you saw Luther?
Par. True: the so-heavy chain which galled mankin】 Is shattered, and the noblest of us all
Must bow to the deliverer-nay, the worker
Of our own projects-we who long before
Had burst its trammels, but forgot the crowd,
We should have taught, still groaned beneath the load: This he has done and nobly. Speed that may! Whatever be my chance or my despair,
What benefits mankind must glad me too:
And men seem made, though not as I believed,
For something better than the times produce:
Witness these gangs of peasants your new lights
From Suabia have possessed, whom Munzer leads,
And whom the duke, the landgrave, and the elector
Will calm in blood! Well, well-'tis not my world
Fest. Hark!
'Tis the melancholy wind astir
Within the trees; the embers too are gray,
Best ope the casement: see,
The night, late strewn with clouds and flying stars, Is blank and motionless: how peaceful sleep
The tree-tops all together! Like an asp,
The wind slips whispering from bough to bough.
Par. Ay; you would gaze on a wind-shaken tree By the hour, nor count time lost.
Those happy times will come agair. . . .
Those pleasant times! Does not the moaning wind
Seem to bewail that we have gained such gains
And bartered sleep for them?
That there is yet another world to mend
All error and mischance.
And why this world, this common world, to be
A make-shift, a mere foil, how fair soever,
To some fine life to come? Man must be fed
With angel's food, forsooth; and some few traces
Of a diviner nature which look out
Through his corporeal baseness, warrant him
In a supreme contempt for all provision
For his inferior tastes-some straggling marks
Which constitute his essence, just as truly
As here and there a gem would constitute
The rock, their barren bed, a diamond.
But were it so were man all mind—he gains
A station little enviable. From God
Down to the lowest spirit ministrant,
Intelligence exists which casts our mind
Into immeasurable shade. No, no:
Love, hope, fear, faith-these make humanity;
These are its sign, and note, and character;
And these I have lost!-gone, shut from me forever,
Like a dead friend, safe from unkindness more!
See morn at length. The heavy darkness seems
Diluted; gray and clear without the stars;
The shrubs bestir and rouse themselves, as if
Some snake, that weighed them down all night, let go
His hold; and from the east, fuller and fuller
Day, like a mighty river, is flowing in ;
But clouded, wintry, desolate and cold :
Yet see how that broad, prickly, star-shaped plant, Half down in the crevice, spreads its woolly leaves, All thick and glistering with diamond dew.
And you depart for Einsiedeln this day:
And we have spent all night in talk like this!
If you would have me better for your love,
Revert no more to these sad themes.
Fest.
One favour,
And I have done. I leave you, deeply moved;
Unwilling to have fared so well, the while
My friend has changed so sorely if this mood
Shall pass away-if light once more arise
Where all is darkness now—if you see fit
To hope, and trust again, and strive again;
You will remember-not our love alone-
But that my faith in God's desire for man
To trust on his support, (as I must think
You trusted,) is obscured and dim through you:
For you are thus, and this is no reward.
Will you not call me to your side, dear friend?
IV.-PARACELSUS ASPIRES.
SCENE.-A House at Colmar, in Alsatia. 1528.
PARACELSUS, FESTUS.
Par. (To John Oporinus, his secretary.) Sic itur ad astra! Dear Von Visenburg
Is scandalized, and poor Torinus paralyzed,
And every honest soul that Basil holds
Aghast; and yet we live, as one may say,
Just as though Liechtenfels had never set
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