Chapter IV.

Four years are past since the incidents above related took place. The scene is neither at Athens nor at Corinth, but at Nauplia. [Footnote 73] Here, suddenly, a new school had been opened by a lady, which attracts a vast concourse of disciples. The lady is young, eloquent, beautiful, and the favor she meets with is almost unbounded. Powerful protectors are around her; and philosophy and science bow to her, though they hardly as yet determine to what school the doctrines she propounds belong. Among those who are attracted by her fame is a lady, just arrived from Athens to be enrolled among the followers of the new Aspasia, or Leontium as she is more generally called. Lotis is herself no mean or obscure daughter of those muses which this new professor has worshipped to such advantage. But Lotis is disappointed in her expectations; the entrance to the academy is guarded with such jealous care, that admission is not easy; in vain she sends her name as daughter of a citizen of Athens of some distinction in the philosophic world; strangers, and above all those from Athens, are carefully excluded. Yet the city continues to derive new lustre from this new propounder of exalted themes; and those who were fortunate enough to gain admission to her lectures, rang with applauses of the lucid doctrines taught; they compared her eloquence to that of Plato, her music to that of Amphion; and contended that, while all other sects were tending to the destruction of ancient truth, this lady demonstrated its existence in every nation, and brought it home to the heart and feelings. Lotis heard of nothing throughout the city but praises of the new exponent of wisdom who had travelled throughout the earth, and had learnt to harmonize the teachings of all philosophies.

[Footnote 73: The Napoli di Romania.]

"'Tis strange she will not admit you," said Lydon, a young disciple, to whom Lotis was complaining of her exclusion; "and the more to be regretted as she is preparing for departure; it seems she did not intend to stay so long at Nauplia in the first place; she was waiting for her protector, who had business at Athens. They will both set out for Rome when he returns."

"And is he expected soon?"

"It is not easy to say. Magas is uncertain in his movements; he often acts from mere caprice. He may be here shortly."

"Magas!"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"I knew one of that name formerly. He was of noble birth; of Athens."

"Likely it is the same. He has been travelling for these few years past, and in his travels picked up this philosopheress, who has so enchanted him."

"Is she really so beautiful as they say?"

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"Words cannot describe her. She has the attractions of Venus with the majesty of Minerva. When in repose, her calm dignity demands our homage; but when she speaks, her features are lighted up with an expression which defies description; her eyes, deeply set as they are, dazzle with the intensity of their fire; she does not declaim, she speaks in a low yet in a distinct and earnest tone which all hear, words which seem to have been gathered at the very fount of wisdom. There is an indescribable melody in her voice, which melts the heart, and communicates the persuasion that she knows more than she says; that she holds back something as fearing the light would be too bright for our unaccustomed eyes: she infuses the desire to know the truth, the certainty that there is a truth; yet somehow, on reflection, the truth itself seems withheld, and we hope next time to hear a fuller exposition of that which no one doubts she possesses."

"What is her doctrine?"

"It would take herself to expound it, in the clear, musical, irresistible manner with which she enforces conviction. I am afraid I should only spoil her discourse by repeating it."

"Try, nevertheless."

"She teaches that truth is one--an immutable, eternal essence, containing within itself all good, all beauty, all harmony, all being; and that in it resides the creative power.

"She says this creative power is an emanation of the Deity, or rather the Deity himself made manifest. It is termed the Word.

"And the Word or creative power made the universe--made all those orbs which we see move around us by night and by day; and moreover, breathed life and intelligence into organic forms, that they might become conscious of, and enjoy existence. But for man she claims a higher life; she says he was created in harmony with the eternal essence, that he might know and enjoy a higher life than that of animals, but that he disregarded the conditions on which this higher life was held, and by violating them brought the disorder into the world which now oppresses it. Man is the only animal unfaithful to his instincts; the only one who does not trust his own nature; the only one who is unhappy in the non-realization of his aspirations."

"But what remedy does she propose?"

"She does not _propose_ one; she _declares_ one. She says the Word became flesh, to communicate to man the Holy Spirit he had lost, and by losing which his misery was occasioned. This Holy Spirit comes alike from the Eternal Essence, and from the Word which is its manifestation, and purifies the heart of man, and so restores it to its primal state, or to a more holy one yet."

"But how is this to be effected for ourselves?"

"That is just where she disappoints us. She gives glowing descriptions of truth, beauty, beneficence in every sort of manifestation, material and mental, and shows how the aspirations of the poets prove that a sublime ideal raises man above the practical existence we see him lead every day; but how to obtain this Holy Spirit we have not yet learnt."

"Has she given no rule?"

"None but material ones; and according to her, material rules are only types of spiritual ideas. She says, as the body has assumed too much sway, it must be subdued by violence--that is, by maceration, fasting, and such like. She says passion must give way to reason, and the affections be rightly governed. This we knew before; but what we want is '_power_' to carry out in practice the precepts we admire; or as she would say, 'how to obtain that Holy Spirit which is to live in us and direct us.'"

"And you think she knows how?"

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"I feel satisfied she does; we all feel satisfied she does. Her words come forth as oracles; we question not--we believe. She has been in India, in Cathay, in Tartary; and everywhere she says the same truth lies hidden under some material form, and needs but the light of the Holy Spirit to pierce through the veil and make itself manifest."

"Would I could see her!"

"You would be carried out of yourself. Yesterday she spoke on _Light_. Material light, with her, is but a type of a far higher light, which penetrates the spirit with beauty, harmony, and love, and makes it pure, holy, eternal, and capable of receiving true knowledge. Light, material light, was created at the same moment that intelligences and harmonies of a high spiritual order sprang to life, to enjoy it. She went off into something of this strain;

God said: Let there be light! Effulgent light! As the wild watery mass chaotic lay; While o'er it did the Holy Spirit move. Obedient to the WORD, the glorious day Sprang into being; and effulgent light, Intelligence all bright Of seraph holy and of angel sweet, In glorious ecstasy their Maker greet, And the deep bliss of their creation prove.

Spirits of beauty, spirits of power Then wakened to welcome the wonderful hour That gave them existence, with light for their dower! All dazzling the brightness illuming space, Investing all matter with beauty and grace-- All lustrous the beauty, the grandeur divine That did in full glory resplendently shine: The Truth--though revealed-- As in Type, yet concealed. The rays of the sun are less dazzling to sight, Than the sparkles begemming the pinions so bright Of the spirits who bowed at that mystical shrine, When first with an impulse or instinct divine They blent their sweet voices throughout every sphere, To worship in love that doth worship endear.

Entrancing and entranced in love to greet, These beauteous spirits kindled into glow, And shed their lustre all that chaos through. And as those rays the harder mediums greet, The sleeping atoms wake as from a trance; The sparks electric shoot in mystic dance, Rousing the power inert to onward move; Impelled by rays of light, create by love, Light's piercing gleams evolve material day And angels' glances brighten up the clay; Refracted rays, the types of virtue bright, Enkindled atoms with their dazzling light;

Splendor and brightness caught from angels' wings, Infuse their action; and such beauty springs From forth the atoms that, erst void and dark, Had lain awaiting th' ethereal spark, That now material beauty wears a grace In which a type of heaven itself we trace. All hail! material light! Emblem of seraph bright. Glowing with intelligence, the mirror of our God, Still dost thou bless our sense. Vesture of Omnipotence; Still with thy visions bright Dost dispel our darksome night, Thou image bright of heaven, on earth's else dreary sod.

"You must hear her to catch her fire, to glow with her enthusiasm. I give her words imperfectly; but her action, her delivery, the way in which she sounds the very depths of her hearers' hearts--_that_ I cannot give you an idea of."

"I must hear her, Lydon; cannot you smuggle me into her presence?"

"I will try, but it will be difficult; the old door-keeper, stationed to keep her company select, will not take a bribe; and a list of names is daily handed to him of those who are to be admitted. But I will try."

"Has she ever been to Athens?"

"I think not. I have heard her speak of Egypt, India, and Cathay, [Footnote 74] but of Athens, never. To-morrow I will try to get admission for you as a resident of the city."

[Footnote 74: The ancient name for China.]

But neither Lydon, nor Lotis, nor any disciple was to be admitted on the morrow. The report was, that Leontium was ill, very ill; a sudden attack of one of those autumnal fevers to which Nauplia is subject, rendered her unable to appear in public. As days went on, the accounts became even more unfavorable; her delirium alarmed her attendants, who spoke of her being given over to the furies, and seemed to shrink from their duties. The arrival of Magas, after a few days, enforced attendance on the lady; the fever left her; but, weak and subdued, and laboring under the influence of the evil tongues of her attendants, Leontium awoke, to find much of her former prestige taken from her--nay, she even fancied Magas himself grown cold. {807} But this last was a mere fancy; the intellectuality, the poetic fire with which she was endowed, and which never left her, animated her features unconsciously, and the pallor and loss of flesh were more than compensated for by the ethereal expression which exalted her countenance to something beyond the human, albeit there were times when it became a question whether the _genius_ that animated them were of Elysium or Tartarus. Magas paid homage to the mind, and was held captive; he asked not whence proceeded the charm that entranced him, he yielded to its influence, and was blest; the altered tone he attributed to the effects of fever; and the signs of mental disturbance, reported by the attendants, were laid to the account of the delirium usually attending such fever; he little dreamed that it was the mind acting on the body, not the body acting on the mind, that caused the derangement. . . .