CHAPTER III.

THE TEMPEST;
OR,
ONE OF bacon's ANTICIPATIONS.
'* What impoflsible matter will he make easy next ? "
— Tempul.
It will be generally granted that in the phiy of The Tempest we have a magical, superhuman presentation of the Poet, as Creator, who, as it were, opens the heavens of his art^ and discloses him- self upon his enchanted island, whence his soul and spirit, from the calm and security of his retreat, watches the tempest which he has himself raised. It is a sort of invisible place or Hades, as well as a Heaven, for though we see it plainly enough with the letter of the text, we are not sufficiently initiated as yet into this art to behold it with the mind's eye as epopts or seers. We are puzzled — dreadfully perplexed as to the bearing of this island, and rightly, for if we could only locate it, we might find Prospero also. Before, therefore, we can thoroughly enjoy the full signifi- cation of the masque or vision, and enter into the spirit of the show, we must be initiated. Prospero has always been associated with the Poet-Creator himself, and seeing that the play stands first in the Folio Edition of 1623, it is not unreasonable to suppose that it is a presentation of the Artist in relation to his own art. As such we propose to study it. Whatever matured views the author had when he laid down his pen and broke his rod, should be found here, for it is the last of the plays — ^the last which stand first in the folio, which is a significant fact After completing our work, we write our preface or introduction, and place it in front, or at the commencement of our book. Even so it may be fairly supposed that there is a like relationship obtaining
THE TEMPEST. 49
between Tht Temped, as introdactory or summary, in relationship to the entire cycle of this marvellous art. The picture presented by Prospero bears out this theory. It is that of a god in art. We, therefore, propose to give reasons for believing that this play deals with a purely spiritual side of the plays, as a repre- sentative symbolical portrait of itself. First, we will examine the background, or setting, of the play, first taking the enchanted island as a starting-point, and so on to other matters.
Islands of Souls or Spirits,
Islands are constantly found connected with enchantment, magic, or the ideal, as Utopias, islands of the Blessed, Elysian Fields, or Heavens. We find this to be the case directly we recall Homer's Ogygia, the island of Calypso, St Brandons, the (New) Atlantis of Plato, and Bacon. We have the Elysium of Homer, the Fortunate Isles of Pindar, and the garden of the Hesperides. Among islands of Heaven, or Paradise, is the island of Venus in the ninth book of the "Lusiad." Then there are several parallel Edens, as the garden of Alcinous in the " Odyssey " (bk. vii.); the island of Circe, "Odyssey" (x.); the Elysium of Virgil ("uiEneid," vi.); the island or palace of vice in " Orlando Furioso" (vi vii) ; the island of Armida in Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered ; " and so on. Lambertus Floridus describes Paradise as **ParadigU3 insula in oceano in oriente" Then we have Avalon, or the ** Isle of Apples," a name which Mr Baring Gould (" Curious Myths of the Middle Ages") remarks, "reminds one of the gardens of the Hesperides." This fair Avalon is the " Island of the Blessed of the Kelts." This is the land to which King Arthur's body was borne,
" Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever winds blow loudly ; but lies Deep-meadow'd happy fair with orchard lawns, A nd bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea."
" In the Portuguese legend, the island of the Seven Cities is nnquestionably the land of departed Spirits of the ancient
D
50 THE TEMPEST.
Reltiberians," writes Mr Gould (" Curious Myths of the Middle Ages"). We find almost always these islands connected with the other world — sometimes as places of punishment, sometimes, and more often, as Elysiums or Heavens. Sometimes these islands are to be found called the Land of Souls, or the Departed \ but whatever may be the name given to them, they are always found to be connected with Death. Therefore, no fitter emblem of the next world, or of the Spiritual World, can be found than a lone, unknown island like Prospero's, placed, we know not where, amid the untracked ocean of his art. It is also curious that we find the idea of these islands connected with Eevelation — that is, with the hereafter, as abodes of Truth and Light. But we must quote, in order to support our assertions ; which we will only do to an extent not prejudicial to our space. The reader is earnestly referred to the interesting chapters upon this subject in the work already quoted, where he will find abundance of evidence.
In classical mythology and poetry we find, again, a frequent mention of the Islands of the Blessed, as the abode of souls. Thus Pindar : " The lawless souls of those who die here forth- with suffer punishment : and some one beneath the earth, pro- nouncing sentence by stern necessity, judges the sinful deeds, done in this realm of Zeus ; but the good enjoy the sun's light both by day and by night — while those who, through a threefold existence in the upper and lower worlds, have kept their souls pure from all sin, ascend the path of Zeus to the castle of Chronus, where ocean breezes bloiv round the Islands of the Blessed, and golden flowers glitter."
We thus see that these islands were spintual islands, or heavens. Olympiodorus (MSS. Commentary on the " Gorgias " of Plato) speaks of the Fortunate Islands raised above the sea, — ^the Islands of the Blessed, — of the emancipated Soul — that is, of Truth and Light, Now, what we have to propose is this. Is it not possible — nay, probable, that the island of Prospero is such an island in relation to the rest of his art — an island of his eman- cipated soul,— emancipated from his work — the Heaven of his
THE TEMPEST. 51
creative power, a picture of the Spiritual and its origin, in rela- tion to the TrvJth and Light ? With the completion of The Tem- pest the plays cease to appear. His rough magic is abjured. And in the play we have the significant and striking symbol of the breaking of his wand, — as a sign that his magic is at an end. If Prospero by common consent has always been considered an emblem, or portrait of the poet-author himself, have we not right on our side when we postulate a symbolical interpretation to the entire play ? It is no reason because we see just this resemblance of Prospero (as magician, and God) to the poet-creator or maker (and no more), that the resemblance really terminates here !
Mr Baring Gould relates the following beautiful legend in his " Curious Myths of the Middle Ages": — "In former days there lived in Skerr a Druid of renown. He sat with his face to the west on the shore, his eye following the declining sun. As he sat musing on a rock, a storm arose on the sea ; a cloud, under whose squally skirts the foaming waters tossed, rushed suddenly into the bay, and from its dark womb emerged a ship or boat with white sails bent to the wind, and banks of gleaming oars on either side. But it was destitute of Mariners, itself seeming to live and move. An unusual terror seized on the aged Druid ; he heard a voice call ' Arise, and see the Green Isle of those who have passed away ! ' Then he entered the vessel. Immediately the wind shifted, the cloud enveloped him, and in the bosom of the vapour he sailed away. Seven days gleamed on him through the mist; on the eighth the waves rolled violently, the vessel pitched, and darkness thickened around him, when suddenly he heard a cry, ' The Isle ! The Isle.' Before his eyes lay the Isle of the Departed." (" Fortunate Isles" Curious Myths, 553).
Here we have a picture of an Island of Souls — of the Departed, and it is interesting to see that in this legend we have a Ship, and evidences of a tempest or storm raging around the Island, on its approach, "It is curious to note how retentive of ancient mythologic doctrines relative to death are the memories of the peoples. This Keltic fable of the ^Land beyond the Sea ' to which
52 THE TEMPEST.
souls are borne after death, has engrafted itself on popular
religion in England."
'* Shall we meet in that blest harbour
When our stormy voyage is o'er ?
Shall we meet and cast the anchor
By the fair celestial shore ? "
— Curious Myths,
Thomas Taylor writes in his "Eleusinian and Bacchic Mys- teries": — "Let us proceed to consider the description which Virgil gives us of these fortunate abodes, and the latent significa- tion which it contains, ^neas and his guide, then, having passed through Hades, and seen at a distance Tartarus, or the utmost profundity of a material nature, they next advance to the Elysian fields : —
'^ ' Devenere locus Isetoe, et amsena vireta Fortunatorum nemorum, sedeaque beatas. Largior hie campos aether et lumine vestit Purpureo ; solemque suum, sua sidera norunt.'
" ' They came to the blissful regions, and delightful green retreats, and happy abodes in the fortunate groves. A freer and purer sky here clothes the fields with a purple light ; they recognise their own sun, their own stars.'
''Now the secret meaning of these joyful places is thus beautifully unfolded by Olympiodorus in his manuscript Commentary on the ' Gorgias ' of Plato. It is necessary to know," says he, " that the Fortunate Islands are said to be raised above the sea ; and hence a condition of being, which transcends this corporeal life and gene- rated existence, is denominated the islands of the blessed; but these are the same with the elysian fields." What we are suggesting, is that the enchanted island of Prospero is consciously intended to represent such a Fortunate Island raised above the sea, and that the entire play bears evidence of being in touch with YirgiPs description of Heaven and Hell in theVIth Book of the "^neid." Nay, more than this. Have we not in the intro- duction of the masque a proof that this play, in presenting us with Ceres, and the Idealism connected with her worship (sunmied up in the magnificent words of Prospero), is really presenting us
THE TEMPEST, 53
with an altered parable of the Mysteries — ^altered to apply to the entire cycle of this art, where the poet-author is the Hierophant, and we the initiates, through Time, of his Divine shows ?
We are now going to present the reader with a very curious hint which we profess to have discovered in the play of Tht Tempesif identifying it with the Avalon of King Arthur. But, very strangely, Mr Baring Gould identifies Avalon with the Atlantis of Plato, which at once brings us into touch with Lord Bacon's New Atlantis. Seeing that the question of the day is who wrote the plays, and that Bacon is the supposed author, to which we have long been a convert, this is sufficiently interesting in itself. But first let us examine the name of Avalon.
Avalon,
This is what we can gather of the name. " Avalon— an ocean island where Ring Arthur was buried. The word means * Apple Green Island,* from av rally been thought to be Glastonbury, a name derived from the Saxon glasiri, which means ' green like grass.' " Mr Baring Gould, as we shall further on see, denies this connection with Glastonbury, but we shall also see he adheres to the name of '^ Grass Green Island of Apples,'' which is the important point for our evidence. Before we proceed to quote his learned authority as to the real origin and identification of Avalon, which will be found more curious still, let us bring in the passage from The Tempest in proof : —
" Adr, Though this island seem to be desert, — Seb. Ha, ha, ha ! So, you're paid. Adr, Uninhabitable aod almost inaccessible, — Sd>. Yet,— Adr. Yet,—
Ant. He could not miss 't.
Adr, It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. iS(s6. Ay, and a subtle ; as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb, As if it had lungs and rotten ones. Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
54 THE TEMPEST.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
ArU. True ; save means to live.
Seh. Of that there's none, or little.
OoTL How lush and lusty the grass looks I how green !
Ant, The ground indeed is tawny.
Seb, With an eye of green i7i*t.
Ant, He misses not much.
Seh. No ; he doth but mistake the truth totally."
We have placed the lines in italics that we wish to be noticed.
Mark, it is Gonzalo who declares there is life on the island, while
the others disbelieve, and see no signs of life. Whilst he sees signs
of life everywhere on this island of art, the others see none.
How they mock him — even as the critics will scoflF at us !
" Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pockety akd give
IT HIS SON FOR AN APPLE.
Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Oon. Ay.**
Now, here are two coincidences — viz., that this island is compared to an apple, and that Gonzalo sees '* green grass,'* or signs of life upon it, the others see none ! They only see death, but he (Gonzalo) sees life. We have already shown that Avalon derives its name from Apple (aval), or from Glastri^ which means " green like grass." Moreover, mark that Gonzalo, who is the sport and target of the sceptics (or his disbelieving critics), not only says " Ay " to the seeming impossibility, but is otherwise right, when he declares Tunis to be Carthage ! The others do not believe that even ! Their scepticism is of the nature of the nineteenth century scepticism — they are agnostics — they believe nothing. We said just now that Gonzalo's critics only saw death upon the island. Bead the passage quoted, and it will be seen that they find the island a hopeless sort of place, and the air as if it came from rotten lungs. Adrian and Gonzalo are full of faith, hope, enthusiasm, but the others ridicule them. At first we feel inclined to laugh at the apparent extravagances of
THE TEMPEST. 55
Oonzalo. But we received a mde check when we find that he knows more than his critics, in identifying Tunis with Carthage.
^ Ad, Widow Dido said you? You make me study of that; she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Oon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage. Ad, Carthage ? 0 Ant, His word is more than the miraculous harp.'*
So that we find Gk)nzalo, though apparently a visionary, is a man of learning, who knows more than his critics were ever taught. And we have a deep suspicion that the poet is laughing at us, and that the impossible and improbable is the real and true in this art, and that when we smile with Sebastian, we are identifying ourselves with his ignorance. If Gonzalo is right upon the question of Tunis and Carthage, why not upon the other points he maintains) Why should not this island be the Green Grass island of Apples — Avalon % But this is a very serious and profound subject, and we must seek assistance else- where. Let us again summon Mr Baring Gould to our aid :— r
Avalon and Atlantis idcfniical,
** The ancients had a floating tradition relative to a vast con- tinent called Atlantis in the far west, where lay £ax)nos asleep, guarded by Briareus ; a land of rivers and woods and soft airs, Columbus declared that the Theologians and Philosophers were right when they fixed the site of the terrestial Paradise in the extreme orient^ because it is a most temperaie climate "^ (Navarette "Coll de documents," i. p. 244). "Tzetze and Procopius attempt to localize it (Avalon), and suppose that the land of souls is Britain, but in this they are mistaken ; as also are those who think to find AvaUm at Glastonbury, Avalon is the Isle of Apples,— a name reminding one of the Garden of the Hesperides in the far western seas, with its {ree of golden apples in the midst. When we are told that in the remote Ogygia sleeps Kronos gently
^ "It must need be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperanct,''^ — Vide p. 57.
S6 THE TEMPEST.
watched by Briareus till the time come for his awakening, we have a Grsecized form of the myth of Arthur in Avalon being cured of his grievous wound. The Ogygia, says Plutarch, lies dut west beneath the setting sun. It need hardly be said that the Arthur of Romance is actually a demi-god — ^believed in long before the birth of the historic Arthur. According to an ancient poem published by Mons. Yillemarque, it is a place of enchant- ing beauty. There youths and maidens dance hand in hand on the dewy grass, green trees are laden with Apples, There all is plenty, and the golden age ^ ever lasts ; cows give their milk that they fill large ponds at milking. There too is a palace all of glass, floating in air, and receiving within its transparent walls the souls of the blessed : it is to this house of glass that Merdin Emrys sings and his nine bards voyaga" (Davies' " Mythology of the Druids," p. 522.) We thus see that Mr Baring Gould identifies Avalon with the Ogygia mentioned by Plutarch, and he proceeds to identify this with the Atlantis also. "Ogygia, according to Plutarch, is five days' sail to the west of Brittia (Great Britain), and, he adds, the great continent or terra ftrma is five thousand stadia from Ogygia. This is an observa- tion made also by Theopompus in his 'Geographical Myth of Mesopis.*" (- British Museum tells us that ** Paradise hangeth between Heaven and earth wonderfully. There is neither hollow nor hill ; nor is there frost nor snow, hail nor rain ; but there is fons vUve, that is the well of life. Therein dwdleth a beautiful bird called Phoenix ; he is large and grand, as the Mighty One formed him ; he is the lord over all birds." (MS. Cotton. Vespas. D. xiv., foL 163.) Compare (Sc. iii. Act 3) : —
" SeK Now I will believe. That there are unicorns : that in Arabia There is one tree, the phcsnix throne*: one phoenix At this hour reigning there."
But of course this is a mythical island, and our only object
^ Compare God sale's Speech, p. 61.
THE TEMPEST. 57
is to connect this " Island of Apples" with the New Atlantis of Bacon, which is also a visionary Utopia, where impossible ideals are realised. What we do see by the accounts of Plutarch and Theopompus is, that this Ogygia or Avalon, was placed in the Atlantic Ocean, midway between Brittia and the mainland, America situated beyond. And this is exactly the position the Atlantis of Plato occupied. The Atlantic Island, as described by Marcellus, is as follows. We see here that these islands were sacred to Persephone and to Ammon or Jupiter. We wish this to be marked, because Miranda asleep under the power of her father's spell, suggests Persephone sleeping with Time (Kronos) until the hour comes for her awakening.
" That such and so great an island formerly existed is recorded by some of the historians who have treated of the concerns of the outward sea. For they say that in their times there were seven islands situated in that sea which were sacred to Perse- phone, and three others of an immense magnitude one of which was consecrated to Pluto, another to Ammon, and that which was situated between them to Poseidon ; the size of this last was no less than a thousand stadia. The inhabitants of this island preserved a tradition handed down from their ancestors concern- ing the existence of the Atlantic island of a prodigious magni- tude, which had really existed in those seas ; and which, during a long period of time, governed all the islands in the Atlantic ocean. Such is the relation of Marcellus in his Ethiopian history." Fr(K. in Tim. (" Cory's Fragments ").
Now we have found a certain hint, faint perhaps, but never- theless a direction, connecting possibly Prosperous island with Avalon, Ogygia, or the New Atlantis of Bacon, as to locality. We have no space to go into further arguments of this kind. But will produce another from a fresh point of view, and save being wearisome. It will be acknowledged that the New Atlantis of Bacon is an Utopia or an ideal Bepublic. We see very clearly that Bacon's Republic or Utopia^ is only a reproduction, or at least copied from
S8 THE TEMPEST.
Plato's. It is for that reason that he places his Eepublic
or Utopia, on the Kew Atlantis or the Old Atlantis of the
Greek philosopher. When we examine Bacon's romance, we
find it savours very much of a golden age, of a Heaven rather
than of possible reality. At any rate, it is very curious that
the Eepublic of America has sprung up in the direction (that is,
the west) of his visionary island. This by the way only. Now,
how is it we find Gonzalo in Tht Tempest picturing just such an
impossible {except in heaven) Utopia as we now give, and which
we refind in the " New Atlantis " of Bacon 1 —
" Oon, Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, — Ant. He'ld sow't with nettle-seed. JSeb, Or docks, or mallows.
Oon, And were the king on't, what would I do ? Seb. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. Oon. V the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit ; uo name of magistrate ;
Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty.
And use of service, none ; coDtract, succession.
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ;
No occupation ; all men idle, all ;
And women too, but innocent and pure ;
No sovereignty ; — jSg5. Yet he would be king on't.
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Ooru All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony.
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine.
Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth.
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people."
It is indeed curious to find in these words exactly such a
scheme of reformation, of impossibilities as is to be refound in
Bacon's *' New Atlantis." Such things as these are only possible
in Heaven or Paradise, and let us not be sure the words do
not so apply to this island, as Elysium 1 ^ It seems to us the
^ The opening of the heavens, or masque, is really, in our opinion, a momentary apocalypse of the other nde, or revealed side of the poet's art, the celestial vision or final vision of the Mysteries.
THE TEMPEST. 59
poet is again laughing in his sleeve at as. Bacon terms his New Atlantis sometimes, the College of the Six Days' Work, or Solomon's Temple. These titles refer us to Creation, as the work of the six days, and to the *' mansion eternal in the heavens" of Art or Natora We are introduced to a venerable elder, who is a sort of Father in the Atlantis, who is called Tvrsa/n^ a name which is a suspicious approach to an anagram upon the word Artis(t). We find Prospero in The Tempest^ reverencing Gonzalo before all the rest. So we must not make light of any- thing he says — seeing that he is an emblem of faith, belief in impossibilities — and miracles — a spirit of hopeful persuasion, as against the incredulity of the others.
" Prospero. Holy Gonzalo, honourable man.
Mine eyes even sociable to the show of thine. Fall fellowy drops."
Again —
*' O good Gonzalo, My true preserver and a loyal sir To him thou follow'st."
Aristotle accepted the notion of there being a new continent in the west^ and described it from the accounts of the Cartha- ginians, as a land opposite the Pillars of Hercules (Sts. of Gib- raltar), fertile, well watered, and covered with forests (Arist. " De Mirab. Ancult/' c. 84). Diodorus gives the Phoenicians the credit of having discovered it, and says that the temperature is not subject to violent changes (Diod. '' Hist. Ed. Wessel," tom. i. p. 244).
We find Bacon's frontispiece presenting us with a ship sailing past the pillars of Hercules with the proud motto. Plus ultra. This idea is strong with him. And we find in the play of The Temped the following allusions to pillars or columns : —
" Oon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that hia issue Should become kings of Naples ? O, rejoice Beyond a common joy, and set it down With gold on lasting pillars : In one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
6o THE TEMPEST.
Where he himself was loRt, Prospero his dukedom In a poor isle and all of us ourselves When no man was his own."
Two pillars form the well-known masonic columns, and are pictured on the engraving prefacing the '' New Atlantis."
VirffiTs Mysteries.
We now proceed to deal with the play from the point of view already hinted at. That is, as a Spiritual play, being placed on an island, which is Heaven from one side (Prosperous), but until revealed is invisible to us as Hades. In the opening of the Heavens by Prospero we have undoubtedly, and we write this advisedly, a hint borrowed from the Mysteries, and particularly those Mysteries which revolved around the myth of Ceres and her wanderings in search of her lost child Proserpine. In Greek (their proper home) the respective names were Demeter and Persephone. We know that in all the initiations into the Mysteries — ^a sym- bolical death and a symbolical rebirth, were simulated. Indeed, they have survived the shipwrecks of Time. Upon the monu- ment at Stratford we find it stated that the poet had the genius of Socrates and the art of Virgil. But the art of Virgil, perhaps, is more emphasised in his Vlth Book of the "^neid " than else- where. Ever since Warburton explained to the world the mean- ing of that book as Initiation, as the doctrines of the Mysteries, it has been accepted, and no one who knows anything of the subject can doubt that Virgil and Claudian have given us the best descriptions of what took place on those occasions, extant Now it is very striking that we find in the play we are discussing a direct and curious dragging in of the names of ^neas and Dido, with whose histories every reader of Virgil must be well acquainted. Besides this, there are other parallels we shall point out. We now proceed to our task, asking the indulgence of our readers upon a very difficult subject.
We find the following resemblances between Virgil's description
THE TEMPEST, 61
of Helly or AcheroD, and the circumstances attending the ship- wrecked king, duke, and followers whilst upon the island.
When Charon calls out to ^neas to desist from entering farther, he says —
'* Umbrarum hie locus est^ Somni Noctisque Soporse."
'* Here to reside delusive shades delight ; For nought dwells here hut sleep and drowsy nights
Compare the strange drowsiness which falls upon Alonso and
Gronzalo —
" Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them. Ant. It is the qiudity of the climate/*
The introduction of Ariel as Harpy has a direct parallel in Virgil's description of Hell —
*' Centauri in foribns stabulant, Scyllseque bifonnes, £t centumgeminus Briareus, ac bellua Lernse, Horrendum stridens, flammisque armata Cbimiera, Gorgones ffarpyiceque, et forma tricorpori umbrae.''
''The centaurs harbour at the Gates, and double-formed Scyllas, the hnndred-fold Briareus, the Snake of Lema, hissing dreadfully, and Chimsera armed with flames, the Gorgons and the Harpies^ and the shades of three-bodied form."
We know that it was in the Vestibule in the Temple of Ceres (Demeter) that the Mystce took the greater oath of secrecy, before the introduction to the principal ceremonial of the Greater Mysteries, which took place at midnight of the sixth day of this magnificent festival.
Plutarch writes : —
"To die is to be initiated into the great mysteries. . . . Our whole life is but a succession of errors, of painful wander- ings, and of long journeys by toiiuous ways, without outlet. At the moment of quitting it, fears, terrors, quiverings, mortal sweats, and a lethargic stupor come and overwhelm us ; but as soon as we are out of it we pass into delightful meadows, where the purest air is breathed, where sacred concerts and discourses are heard ; where, in short, one is impressed with celestial visions.
62 THE TEMPEST.
It is there that man, having become perfect through his new initiation, restored to liberty, really master of himself, celebrates, crowned with myrtle, the most augast mysteries, holds converse with just and pure souls, and sees with contempt the impure multitude of the profane or uninitiated, ever plunged and sinking of itself into the mire and in profound darkness."
The masque introduced in Tht Tempest is indeed a celestial vision / And we find again, in the words and description of life by Plutarch, as " a succession of errors, of painful wanderings, and of long journeys by tortuous ways without outlet," a wonderful parallel to the wanderings of Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, and Adrian about the enchanted island. Gonzalo exclaims —
" I can go no further, Sir, My old bones ache : here's a maze, trod indeed, Through forth-rights and meanders / " ^
But it is not only in this one point that the parallel holds. We find, from the date of the Shipwreck, a certain resemblance to the Mysteries, which cannot be fanciful, and which is strengthened upon further examination. For example, when Ariel boards the King's Ship, and '^ flames amazement," the King's son, Ferdinand, leaps into the sea, exclaiming —
" Hell is empty. And all the devils are here.*'
We know that in the Mysteries the initiate was led through darkness and storm (or tempest), with lightning flashing through the vestibule of the Temple of Dem^ter or Ceres, which was a figurative descent into Hades. Stobaeus writes —
''The first stage is nothing but errors and uncertainties, laborious wanderings, a rude and fearful march through night and darkness. And now arrived on the verge of death and initiation, everything wears a dreadful aspect, it is all horror,
^ The only Bolemn oath, by which the gods irrevocably obliged them- selves, is a well-known thing and makes a part of many ancient fables. To this oath they did not invoke any celestial diviaity, or divine attribute, but only called to witness the river Styx ; which, with many meandtrst surrounds the infernal court of Dis. — Bacon's " Wisdom of the Ancients."
THE TEMPEST. 63
trembling, sweating, and affrightment. But this scene once over, a miracolous and divine light displays itself, and shining plains and flowery meads open on all hands before them/'
The reader must be struck with the parallel afforded by the play. Because the Shipwrecked King and his Courtiers go through exactly these preliminary horrors, of an imaginary death by drowning, with storm, lightning, and thunder, and are led, through (their protagonist) Ferdinand, to the sublime spectacle of the opening Heavens, with the doctrine of Idealism to sum it all up. This finale proves that we have here not only Idealism, but the Idealism of the Mysteries, and with the Mysteries them- selves pourtrayed to us. Yarker writes " Ancient Mysteries " —
'' The principal ceremonial of the Greater Mysteries took place at midnight of the sixth day of this magnificent festival. The Herald made the usual proclamation, ' Far hence the profane.' Then the MystcB took the greater oath of secrecy in the vestibule of the Temple of Demdter, was clothed in a fawn skin and saluted with the words, 'May you be happy, may the good Demon attend you.' At this point the assembly was enveloped in darkness, lighining flashed, thunder rolled, and monstrous forms appeared."
Compare this : —
*' Ariel, 1 boarded the King's ship ; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement : sometimes I'd divide, And bnrn in many places ; on the topmast, The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet and join : Jove's lightnings, the precursors O' the dreadful thunder claps, more momentary. And sight out-running were not.: the fire, the cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to beedege, and make his bold waves tremble."
But it does not end here. The entire description of the wanderings of the Shipwrecked King and Courtiers about the island, is replete with amazements, terrors, and enchantments. In the first scene of the second act, they are affrighted with
64 THE TEMPEST,
strange noises, which they take for the bellowings of bulls, or the
roaring of lions : —
^ Leb, Even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions ; did it not wake you 7 It struck mine ear most terribly."
It was after this ceremony of the oath-taking in the vestibule,
that at this point the assembly was enveloped in darkness,
lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and monstrous forms appeared.
This, of course, was a dramatic effect, contrived to imitate the
horrors of the infernal regions. Virgil thus describes hell or
Tartarus : —
'* Yestibulum ante ipsum, primisque in faucibus Orci Luctus, et ultrioes posuere cubilia Curae ; — Pallentesque habitant morbi, tristisque senectus, Et metus, et mala suada Fames, acturpis egestas ; Terribiles visu formse ; Lethumque Laborque : Turn consanguineus Lethi Sopor et mala mentis Gudia, mortiferumque adverse in limine bellum Ferreique Eumenidum thalami, et Discordia demens, Yipereum crinem vittis inneza cruentia In medio ramos annosaque brachia pandit Ulmus opaca igena : quam sedem somnia yv\^ Yana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus hserent.
" Before the entrance itself, and in the first jaws of Hell, Grief and vengeful Cares have placed their couches ; pale Diseases in- habit there^ and sad Old Age, and Fear, and Want, evil goddess of persuasion, and unsightly Poverty — ^forms terrible to contem- plate ! and there, too, are Death and Toil \ then Sleep, akin to Death, and evil Delights of mind; and upon the opposite threshold are seen death-bringing War, and the iron marriage- couches of the Furies, and raving Discord, with her viper-hair bound with gory wreaths. In the midst, an Elm dark and huge expands its boughs and aged limbs; making an abode which vain Dreams are said to haunt, and under whose every leaf they dwell."
We find in the play discord and fear, with the vain dreams of Sebastian and Antonio, as to the succession of Naples, even the toil of Ferdinand in removing logs, together with a plentiful
THE TEMPEST. 65
supply of wanderings, doubts, and disappointments, all highly typical of life, and particularly of initiation.
In the snatching away of the banquet placed befoie the Ring and his followers, we have a metaphorical application of the fable of Tantalus, one of the punishments pourtrayed in the lower world or hell.
But the most cogent proof that in this play we have the
heavenly side of the poet's art, is the introduction of the masque,
when we see the heavens really opened to us, with a vision of
Juno and Ceres. This is the culminating point of the play. It
is the marriage of Miranda to Ferdinand — the marriage of
Heaven and Earth-— of Spirit to Matter — the reconciliation of
things divine, with things material And as this was the end
and centre round which the Eleusinian Mysteries circled, we can
well understand the introduction of Demdter (Ceres) — the earth
mother (Nature)— to preside over the marriage of her daughter,
Proserpine (who, as Bacon tells us, is Spirit), to Ferdinand.
There can be little doubt (at least to ourselves), that Miranda is
the prototype if not Persephone herself. Like Kronos, she
sleeps until the time of her awakening is at hand.
^ Prop. Here cease more questions. Thou art inclined to sleep ; 'tis a good dulness, And give it way : / know thou canst not choose.
[Miranda sleeps."
Here we have Persephone asleep in Hades. Perdita again —
the Briar Bose, who sleeps for hundreds of years (like Cinderella)
as princess : —
" Pros. Now I arise : [Resumes his mantle. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived ; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princesses can that have more time For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
Truth (and we mean by this Spiritual Truth) has always been typified by a Princess brought up in disguise, like Perdita in the Winiefa Tale, as a lost child.
£
66 THE TEMPEST.
That this introdaction of Ceres as the earth, with Juno in the heavens (Iris being the rainbow or messenger of light that reconciles Heaven with Earth), is connected with a spiritual apotheosis and apocalypse, cannot be doubted. It is a Midsum- mer revelation.^ It is Paradise opened with a divine reconciliation of things heavenly and things earthly: Juno with Ceres — ^the Spiritual with the Material. How can we for a moment be in doubt as to the protagonists in this marriage of Spirit and Matter f They are Miranda and Ferdinand ; and it is for them, and in relation to them, that the masque is introduced and the blessing song of Juno and Ceres given ! That we have heaven presented to us cannot be doubted in this scene :—
"Fer, Let me live here ever ; So rare a wondered father and a wife, Make this place Paradise"
That this is no metaphorical chance language may be seen when we compare again certain resemblances obtaining between the text and the Vlth book of Virgil, which is universally acknowledged to be a description of initiation, and of the idealism taught in the Mysteries. For example, in Virgil's description of the Elysian fields, we have : —
^ Pars in gramineis exercent membra palaestris : Contendunt ludo, etfulva luctantur arena : "
—Vlth Book *' ^neid."
Compare (Song) : —
'* Come unto these ffeUow sands And then join hands/' etc., etc.
The exact words employed by Virgil. Then compare the extraordinary parallel running between the speech of Anchises and the speech of Prospero. Before we present this striking parallel, the student is entreated to bear in mind that the speech Virgil puts into the mouth of Anchises closes and sums up the
^ We recognise in the introdnction of the Reapers in the presentation of the Masque, the entire Eleasinian myth, of the seed, maiden, or Bununer child, crowned with the ears of wheaX in heaven-Ceres.
THE TEMPEST. 67
teachings of the Mysteries, just as Prosperous closes the Vision or Masque.
" Principio coelum ac terras, campoeque liquentes, Lucentemque globnm lunse, Titaniaque astra, Spiritus intus alit, totumque infusa per artos, Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet."
What does this declare) That Spirit is the predominant and
ruling element, which is mingled with the entire universe. Now
compare this : —
" These our actors. As I foretold you, were aU spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air : And, like the baseless fabric of this vision. The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces. The solemn temples, the great globe itself. Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams ^ are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep."
We have abundance of evidence that idealism was taught in the
Mysteries. . We know that it was round the myth of the
Wanderings of Ceres that these doctrines were taught, and in
her Temple that the initiations and revelations took place. How
is it Prospero is found summing up philosophic idealism in direct
connection with the same Ceres 1 Is this chance 1 But let us
first present the reader with the doctrines that were taught in
the Mysteries. Ficinus says : — *' Lastly, that I may comprehend
the opinion of the ancient theologists, they considered things
divine as the only realities, and that all others were only the
images and ^ladows of truth "^ (Taylor's "Eleusinian Mysteries," 13.)
Life, in short (as Prospero says), is a dream — all we see — " the
cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples,"
are only images — actors, with no reality save reflected reality —
reflection of the spiritual — symbolic — and representative. We
are like the prisoners in Plato's beautiful allegory of the subter-
* The entire teftching of the MyBteries held at EleiuiB, round Geres, was that life is a dream.
68 THE TEMPES2\
ranean cave, only contemplating shadows. " The earth-life is a dream rather than a reality. In this state and previous to the discipline of education and the mystical initiation, the rational or intellectual element, which Paul denominates the spiritual, is asleep" (Introduction to Taylor's " Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries," xvii.) Prospero, in disclosing the heavens and in giving us this sublime speech, is giving us the last sublime spectacle of the Mysteries and of the Idealism, which was summed up round that apocalyptic vision, and which we refind unquestion- ably again in the Platonic Philosophy. The end was to teach the spiritual nature of existence.
In these few lines, '' We are such stuff as dreams are made on,'' is summed up Plato. For his whole teaching is that life is a dream. If the author of these lines was not Platonist^ and idealist, in the most uncompromising sense, then evidence goes for nothing : —
6pw ykp iifias o6Mv 6yTas AXXo, irXf^v
€t5(a\\ 6ff
" I see we're nothing else, just as we are,
But dreams : our life is bot a fleeting shadow."
Pindar has a similar expression : —
Eird^poc, ri 5c rtr ; rt 5* 00 rtt ;
iKiai tvap y AyOpdfitoi, — Carm, II. i}. 135.
" What are we, what Dot, but ephemera ! The shadow of a dream is man."
A similar idea comes from the Talmud : — " The life of man is like a passing shadow; not the shadow of a house, or a tree, but of the bird that flies: in a moment, both bird and shadow is gone." The German philosopher, Schopenhauer, has noticed this resemblance of Shakespeare to Sophocles. He adds : — " Life and dream are leaves of one and the same book : actual life is a reading in casual connection, but a dream is only here and there a leaf, without order or dependence."
Now let us mark again these important facts. We And the poet introducing a masque into this play, in which the great
THE TEMPEST. 69
Protagonist of the Eleusinian Mysteries is presented to us. It was the Earth-Mother Dem^ter or (her Latin name) Ceres, round whom the Mysteries revolved. And it was over the loss and reawakening of her daughter Persephone, or Proserpine, that the Drama found its origin, and the doctrine of immortality its focus and symhol.
The poet does not hring in Ceres without making her speak of her daughter's abduction by " dusky Dis " or Pluto : —
" Ceres, Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got."
This shows at once that it is the myth of Ceres and Proserpine that is the undercurrent motive of this masque introduction.
Very strangely, the word Tempest is allied to the word SouL ^ZiUi — the soul, is derived by Plato (Crat. 419) from tfuoi, which means to rusk on or along, as of a rushing mighty wind, and generally signifies to storm, to rage. It is employed in the Greek in the same Qense as the Latin, animiLs (the soul) — as the seat of anger and wrath, and of the feelings. Again the Greek afi/jkt means to " breathe hard or blow," and is commonly used as to toss or wave abont The Latin word, Spiritus, is in the same way connected with air, or breath, as life. Water has always been considered the emblem of the soul. And we find in The Tempest the poet' gives us a curious expression in the words ^^ sea-change*^ In the song that Ariel sings, we find these lines : —
" Full fathoms five thy father lies ;
Of his bones are coral made ; Those are pearls that were his eyes :
Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change,
Into something rich and strange."
This " sea-change into something rich and strange " is doubt- less used here in the sense of rebirth or metempsychosis. These lines, we think, are on Shelley's monument. And there is about the expression '' sea-change," a soul character connected with the sea and with deaJth — a Protsean power of changing shapes, which
70 THE TEMPEST.
is borne out when we remember that the fabled Proteus was Neptune's herdsman. Thus we have in the title of the play Tht Tempest, and in the sea, a double connection with the idea of spirit and soul, change or death.
Max Miiller deduces the Latin mare (the sea) from a root signi- fying death. He says, ** If in English we can speak of dead water, meaning stagnant water, or if the French use eau morte in the same .sense, why should not the northern Aryans have divined one of their names for the sea from the root mar to die % " Littr6 — '' Corssen et Curtius rapprochent mare du Sancrit marUy le desert, c'est-k-dire, T^l^ment ww?r^, sterile, arpvytrog rovrog.** But as deserts are not only in appearance, but in origin, beds of dried-up oceans, or seas, this only shows still more the origin of the word We find, iu all myths of the dead, a connecting link with the sea or water. King Arthur, after receiving his wound, departs in a barge for Avalon. The souls of the departed are often found taking ship for some distant isle. Thus the sea becomes an emblem for death, — *' a sea-change into- something rich and strange," and thus we are led to see that the ocean of this art may well be a term embracing time and death — ^a separating medium of re-birth, through which and on which we seek the enchanted island of discovery, which is that of pure Spirit or Heaven, — the blessed or fortunate islands of the soul, — where the dead poet, as a still living spirit, presides as creator, over his Divine Nature. It is very curious how unconscpusly writers on the plays have made this comparison. Here is one : —
** The greatest poet of our age has drawn a parallel of elaborate eloquence between Shakespeare and the sea; and the likeness holds good in many points of less significance than those which have been set down by the master-hand. For two hundred years at least have students of every kind put forth in every sort of boat on a longer or a shorter voyage of research across the waters of that unsounded sea."
The sea has always been connected with the idea of generation or re-birth. It may seem extraordinary, that the great '* Deep "
THE TEMPEST, 71
was held to be the feminine side of things, out of whose womb all things sprang, even the land At the Eleusinian Mysteries, one of the days was dedicated to a visit to the sea. Purification by water has always been the symbol of re-birth. It is through the watery principle that everything was created. God breathed on the face of the waters, so that as a separating medium the sea is a perfect emblem of death. We find the poet telling us that the sea is to be this separating medium : —
" Let this sad interim like the ocean be Which parts the shore, where two contracted new Come daily to the banks, that, when they see Betum of love, more blest may be the view ; Else call it winter, which being full of care Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare."
Here the time of ''this sad interim " is compared to the Ocean, or to Winter and Summer, which immediately takes u^ to the Winter's Tale, In Pericles we find an early attempt at the same subject, the sea playing there the part of a separating medium as Time — the body of Thaisa being cast adrift on it, to come miraculously to life again. Indeed, between Marina, the sea- bom, and Perdita in the Winter's Tale, there is more than a striking resemblance. Marina is bom of the sea — Time. Per- dita, likewise, is thrown out to be the argument of Time.
" To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace Equal with wondering : what of her ensues I list not prophesy ; but let Time's news Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's daughter, And what to her adheres, which follows after, Is the argument of Time. Of this allow, If ever you have spent time worse ere now ; If never, yet that Time himself doth say He wishes earnestly you never may.
What and who is Perdita f Answer — the Spirit or Spiritual in the poet's art, to be re-bom through Time, as yet asleep in the Hades (invisible place) of this art — Miranda under another name.
Morgan Kavanagh writes (" Origin of Language and Myths," pages 46, 47) : —
72 THE TEMPEST.
" That in M and W we have the same sign in different posi- tions is shown by such a word as Mind, which has under this form no meaning ; but when we make M take its form W, we discover the primary sense of Mind an perceiving that it is Wind. And this etymology cannot be called in question since the Hebrew mi ruh, the Greek vvtufia, and the Latin Spiritus, each of which means Mind, are but other words for wind or breath, and of which the learned have been well aware, though never suspecting that Mind is the word Wind itself. This etymology is also confirmed by the word Wit, and the word Mensch in German giving our word Wench. When years ago I pointed out the identity of M and W, I was ridiculed for my pains, and little thought that the truth of my discovery could be made evident by the Sanskrit language, of which the W is often repre- sented in Latin by >L Thus in a recent work we find, 'La naso-labiale M remplace souvent en latin la labiale douce prolong^e aryaque W ; ainsi nous trouvous Mare^ mer, au lieu du, Sanscrit Wari;" Etc. (''La Langue Latine 6tadi6e dans Tunit^ Indo- Europ6ene. Par Am^de6 de Caix de Saint Aymour," p. 77.) We thus see that it is in perfect accord with the presentation of Prospero as a God (in relation to his art), that the play bears the name of Tfie Tempest. It is Prosperous Mind, that is moved to stir up this storm, which is but a picture of his Divine Art at war with Time, and separated from us by just those creative principles spiritually hidden, which are spirit on one side, and on the other the separating medium of the sea, the symbol of the external and phenomenal.^
Sirens and the Sea.
Sirens were said by the Greek and Latin poets to entice seamen by the magic sweetness of their song to such a degree, that the listeners forgot everything and died of hunger. The Greek means (oupfiv) the charm of eloquence of persuasion, and is derived
^ In the beginning was first Light, then Water. The latter was the material.
THE TEMPEST, 73
from seira (osipd)^ the entangling binding.^ Plato says there are three kinds of Sirens — the cdesticUy the generative, the cathartic. The first are under the government of Jupiter ; the second under the government of Neptune; and the third under the govern- ment of Pluto. When the soul is in heaven the Sirens seek by harmonic motion to unite it to the divine life of the celestial host; and when in Hades, to conform them to the infernal regimen ; but on earth they produce generation of which the sea is emblematic. (Proclus " On the Theology of Plato," bk. vi)
We have placed the last line in italics. We see that the sea is emblematic of generation, that is, of re-birth, or what the poet in the play exquisitely veils under the garb of an immortal " sea-change." Ariel sings of Ferdinand's father : —
" Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth sufifer a sea-change Into something rich and strange."
Ariel is disguised as a Sea-nymph. Why does the poet present us Ariel as a Sea-nymph and not as a mountain-nymph, or a tree- nymph, or as a Naiad or Spring-nymph ? Is there no profound connection between this song, in which we have reference to the sea as generator or transformer and Ariel's disguise) Nymphs were generally Goddesses of fertilising moisture and powers of nature. In later poets water is called vvfipn (Latin Lympha, pro- bably from the water nymphs of Liban, i., 283 ; Wyttenb. Plut. iL 147; F. Liddell and Scott's Greek Lexicon, 1060). The chrysalis or pupa of moths, and of young bees with imperfect wings, carry this name of nymph in Greek, — showing that the word is clearly connected with the doctrine of metamorphosis. The sea is the generator, the Protean — the changer — the source
^ These Sirens resided in oertain pleasant islands, and when, from their watch-tower, they saw any ship approaching, they first detained the sailors by their mnsic, then, enticing them to shore, destroyed them. Their singing was not of one and the same kind, bat they adapted their tones exactly to the nature of each person, in order to captivate and secure him. And so destructive had they been, that these islands of the Sirens appeared, to a very great distance, white with the bones of their unburied capcives. — Bacon's *' Wisdom of the Ancients."
74 THE TEMPEST.
of soals — ^and her nymphs are the magic powers which preside over generatioiL But there is another way in which we find this word Kymphs employed, yiz., as Muses — ^hence all persons in a state of rapture, as seers, poeis, madmen, &c., were said to be caught by the nymphs {fUfAfoXri^oi, Lat Lymphati — Lymphatic! 1060, Scott and Lidd. Gr. Lex.). It is just in this last sense that we see Ariel, drawing Ferdinand after him, with his songs and music —
** Fer, Where should this music be I i' the air or the earth f It sounds no more : and sure it waits upon Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank Weeping again the king my father's wreck, This music crept by upon the waters, Allaying both their fury, and my passion, With its sweet air : thence I have followed it, Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. No, it begins again."
It is a significant hint that Ariel is set free by Prospero at the termination of the play, and thai this play is the last the poei tcriies. The breaking of his wand, seems to us profoundly con- nected with the emancipation of Ariel. This tricky Spirit is so evidently the poet's airy genius, that draws all the world after its divine music, that it seems superogatory to endeavour to adduce even proofs of it. Ariel is the genius or instrumentality of the poet's entire art scheme; — the rough magic of art which is nothing short of a miracle, as yet no miracle, because only half realised.
For our own part, we have very little doubt that the island of Prospero is just that island of discovery which we are all seeking upon the ocean of his art. We mean that it is the art itself in relation to itself, which, to the shipwrecked mariners, appears without anybody upon it, without hope, full of meanders and strange miracles, and divine music leading us on, but apparently without a God, full of mystery and magic, but without an author who will reveal himself and lay aside his magic mantle. There is much resemblance between the nineteenth centuiy and the
THE TEMPEST. 75
play of Tht Tempest. We are the shipwrecked mariners of Faith, who, like Sebastian and Antonio, have lost all hope and all belief in everything — and particularly in God. Prospero, be it re- marked, is a complete parallel as Poetic Creator to a Divine Creator. We see that the relationship of Prospero to his art, with his magic mantle and rod, is plainly and intentionally that of a God in art. Is it not, then, striking that the Wanderers upon the island are divided into two divisions of opinion — ^the one in Gonzalo and Adrian, being characterised by the Strongest Faith and hope, and the others by mocking scepticism and ridicule? The second act with which the Shipwrecked party is introduced, opens in Gonzalo's faith, hope, and consolation, which is re- morselessly scoffed at and turned into utter ridicule by the others. So lofty is Gonzalo's faith, and belief in impossible things and miracles, that he seems to us a species of personified religion. The others are his direct antitheses — they believe in nothing — not even in the Truth when it is Truth, as in the case where Gonzalo tells them Tunis is Carthage. As a modern novelist truly writes : —
" Doubt is the destroyer of beauty — the poison in the sweet cup of existence — ^the curse which mankind have brought on themselves. Avoid it as you would the plague. Believe in any- thing or everything miraculous and glorious — the utmost reach of your faith can with difficulty grasp, the Majestic reality and perfection of everything you can see, desire, or imagine.'' ("A Bomance of Two Worlds." ) What does the nineteenth century require — a miracle ? No — because we have abundant of miracles every day, such as the Phonograph of Edison (which beats every- thing that poet or " Arabian Nights ** could conceive) — ^but this is no miracle. This is science ! A miracle must be unexplain- able. But then the nineteenth century (which is almost as profound in its sceptical knowledge as in its real ignorance), would exclaim — ^prove this a miracle, and so on. So that our eyes refuse to see that all is supernatural and nothing is super- natural, but all Wonder.
76 THE TEMPEST.
There can be no didactic force in this art of the plays, unless
its teaching applies doubly to itself and Nature. We mean that
what we are seeking to have solved for us in life, shall be solved
for us by this art. This may seem difficult to grasp. Let us
endeavour to be clear. This art, according to us, is self-reflecting
— that is, that what we are seeking outside it is already within
it. Suppose a complete revelation is planned, suppose our own
mocking portraits are presented to us everywhere in these plays,
and presented, too, in exactly the relationship that we are to it.
Impossible ! Nay, it has been done, but it is very difficult to
make clear how it has been done, though we can see it very plainly
for ourselves. For example : suppose (or grant) Prospero to be
an ideal portrait of God in relationship to the Divine Art,
Nature, and, at the same time, to be the Author of the Plays in
relationship to the plays (also his Divine Art or Nature) and us.
Cannot the reader at once perceive that the most Divine lessons
could be thus inculcated — that we should be beside ourselves
with utter amazement and admiration ! If the Poet-Creator,
Prospero, can hide and reveal himself by means of art such as
the plays contain (as a God), what a lesson for us towards faith
and hope, and understanding of the higher works of the Diviner
Poet, and his works, the Almighty ! That the author has done
this is clearly shown in the Sonnets to those who, having eyes,
will use them, by shutting them to the external in this Divine
Art, and opening them to the Spiritual For example: when
the poet says he has "laid great bases for eternity," we are
sure that he means he has illustrated, by means of his art,
divine truths and imitated Creation, so as to reconstruct faith
and belief in Miracle. He tells us, in these despised Sonnets
(which constitute the Spiritual Light and New Life of the
Creative Principles, underlying the construction of the plays)
that he bears with his " extern " " the canopy " of Heaven !
CXXV.
" Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy. With my extern the outward honouring, Or laid great bases for eternity."
THE TEMPEST, 77
He tells us again^ in Sonnet 124, that this art was built far from accident, i.e., that plan, intention, govern its inner spiritual meaning, and that it " stands hugely politic " —
'' No, it was builded far from accident ; It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls Under the blow of thralled discontent. Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls : It fears not policy, that heretic, Which works on leases of short-number'd hours, But all alone stands hugely politic."
For ourselves, we understand these lines to mean that this art is as profound, as deep as Creation itself, for it is Creation in a sense that the world has never dreamt of as within the bounds of man or art to conceive or execute. He tells us he bears the " canopy " of the heavens, by means of great bases of creative truths, which, when revealed, shall stand for eternity. But until his own judgment arises, which is as surely in the plays as God is in Nature, he dwells in lovers* eyes —
'* 'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth ; your praise shall still find room. Even in the eyes of all posterity That wear this world out to the ending doom. So, till the judgment that yourself arise, You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes."
There are ihrtt themes contained in many of the plays, if not all, which are not historical. These three themes are first, the simple theme of beauty, as the plays simply read without further examination. The other two themes arise from the relation of this art, to its planned spiritual revelation through time (as to itself), and to the relationship arising from this plan to Nature, and ourselves. We see this in the Winter's Tale, where the separation of this art into Winter (unrevealed), and Summer (revealedj side, is plainly imaged in the separation of Perdita from Hermione — Spirit separated from dead life (form) — a statue Hermione. The restoration of the life of the Spirit — Perdita (Persephone) restores life to this art, which is so beauti-
78 THE TEMPEST.
fully pictured as a statue (really living), seemiugly dead until revealed. But the poet himself tells us this — that in each play, there are three themes : —
" Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument, — Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words ; And in this change is my invention spent, Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords. Fair, kind, and true, have often liv'd alone. Which three, till now, never kept seat in one."
To prove that this art is something to which the term extra- ordinary, as usually employed, cannot be applied, we quote the following Sonnet. We see at once, that the author ignores Dante, as his inferior, for he goes back five hundred years for a comparison to vie with the wonder of '^ your frame.''
LIX.
" If there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguird. Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss The second burden of a former child 1 O, that record could with a backward look. Even of five hundred courses of the sun. Show me your image in some antique book, Since mind at first in character was done ! That I might see what the old world could say To this composed wonder of your frame ; Whether we are mended, or whe'r better they, Or whether revolution be the same. O, sure I am, the wits of former days To subjects worse have given admiring praise."
** Since mind at first in character was done/" This is indeed startling language. This is something "hors de ligne" when it puts its term of comparison back to five hundred years, and thus challenges Dante's great work ! In Tk^ Tempest, we find Prospero saying : —
" My dukedom since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing ; At least bring forth a wonder to content ye."
And to further prove that the poet deals iu his plays with a
THE TEMPEST. 79
religions theme, which (mark it) is as yet hidden or unrevealed, he says, in Sonnet 31 : —
^ How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religions love stol'n from mine eye, As interest of the dead, which now appear But things remov'd, that hidden in thee lie ! "
Note that these things which move his '' religious love '' are "hidden/' "remoifd,** in this art. Proof enough, if any were indeed wanting, to show that we know very little about the plays at present, and that the great "bases for eternity" are yet to be explored. Perhaps the ''great bases for eternity" are these religious truths, hidden in philosophical play systems, as creative principles !
The despised Sonnets are the true creative principles of the entire Solar System of this sublime art. We use no extravagant metaphor, we say seriously, and fully alive to a charge of writing rubbish, — ^a real Solar System, — a copy of Nature, not only ex- ternally, but on the profoundest philosophical creative principles of Light and Darkness, Summer and Winter, Life and Death, Heaven and Hell, separation and reconciliation. Here, for example, is the Sun — unmistakably not only here but elsewhere Light, Life, Truth, — a physical fact and a spiritual emblem at once.
LIII.
'' What is your substance, whereof are yon made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend ? Since every one hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you ; On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are painted new : Speak of the spring, and foison of the year ; The one doth shadow of your beauty show. The other as your bounty doth appear ; And you in every blessed shape we know. In all external grace you have some paH;, But you like none, none you, for constant heart"
8o THE TEMPEST..
This is the Sun. Eead Sir George Cox's " Mythology of the Aryans/' and you will find him identifying Adonis and Helen with the Sun. This may seem curious to some people, but every book on mythology and symbol worship gives the same explanation.^ Let us turn to the poem of Venus and Adonis, the first heir of the poet's invention, and we find the first opening lines identifying Adonis with the Sun : —
'* Even 08 the sun with purple-colour'd face Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping mom, Bose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase ; Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn ; Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him. And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him."
'* Even as the sun/ " and to further prove this, take the follow- ing — a few lines following the passage just quoted : —
** Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.''
Nature would indeed end with the life of the Sun ! And then the poem proceeds to use the same argument of marriage for creation's sake, as we find in the opening theme of the Sonnets. But this is the simile — marriage for the sake of offspring — (im- mortality), with which Socrates (using the words of Diotima) illustrates Creation Divine and poetic. With^ Plato the poet's art is a copy of the Divine act, whence the name of Maker, Creator, Poet.
" Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,
^ ** Here is what Sir William Jones — a man profoundly acquainted with as many as twenty languages, and beyond all doubt the most learned Oriental scholar England has to boast of — says on this subject : ' We must not be surprised at finding, on a close examination, that the charac- ters of all the pagan deities, male and female, melt into each other, and at last into one or two ; for it seems a well-founded opinion that the whole crowd of gods and goddesses in ancient Rome mean only the powers of nature, and principally those of the sun, expressed in a variety of ways and by a multitude of fanciful names." — (** Origin of Lang, and Myth.," Kavauagh.)
THE TEMPEST. 8i
Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear ;
Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse :
Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty, Thou wast begot, — to get it is thy duty.*'
But to farther prove this apparently strange theory (and of the difficulty of obtaining a hearing for it we are well aware), take the following Sonnet : —
xxxvin.
** How can my Muse want subject to invent, While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse Thine own sweet argument, too excellent For every vulgar paper to rehearse ? O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me Worthy perusal stand against thy sight ; For who 's so dumb that cannot write to thee, When thou thyself dost give invention light ? Be thou the tenth MvMy ten times more in worth Than those old nine which rhymers invocate ; And he that calls on thee, let him bring forUi Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight Muse do please these curious days, The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise."
Here we have the source of the inspiration of the poet's Muse, which it is most important, the greatest thing of all to remark, is not one of the nine Muses, nor the Nine Muses. What is it, then, that overleaps all the Muses and beggars all our conceptions of art thus? What miracle have we herel What is this Tenth Muse ? Plato tells us the world was formed in the shape of X. This number is a perfect number, and various theories have explained it, which we have no space to enter upon here. But it is the sign of the World, or of entire Natwre — it signifies life and light — ihe two triangles of above and below — the universe.
" Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth Than those old nine which rhymers invocate."
How can we be in error after such words as these : —
" For who 's so dumb that cannot write to thee When thou thyself dost give invention light f"
F
82 THE TEMPEST,
This is the San. It is not only here, but everywhere, that we find this Sun in these Sonnets.
XLIIL
" When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things iinre8p>ected ;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And, darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light.
When to unseeing eyes Uiy shade shines so !
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day.
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay ! All days are nights to see, till I see thee. And nights bright days, when dreams do show thee me."
It will be difiicult to convince a sceptical world in a scep- tical century, that the above Sonnet is addressed to San and Moon, and that both are applied to art. But it is so. It only requires Gonzalo's faith to see what the poet has done — to believe in artistic miracles — for here is one, and find Prospero. The reader may laugh, if we suggest that the Sonnet quoted has par- ticular reference to the shadows of art. Does he know Plato's allegory of the subterranean cavern, and the invisible sun pro- ducing images or shadows 9 I suppose he knows that this image is Plato's method for explaining the relationship of ideas to phenomena — reflection. And this is the exact relationship exist- ing between the ideas of the plays, and their phenomena, shadows, or actors taken externally.^ The poet is saying — " If the rtfitcr tion of my spiritual meaning or light (the Sun), can produce such beauty (which is night — Moonlight to me), what would the day- light of its revelation be 1 " It will be granted, for the sake of
%
^ The visible world {Kdfffios iparbs, r& ahOrjTa) bears the impress of the ideal world {fitfn^fiaTa, €Ik6¥€s, ctduXa OfMUttfiara), — (Plato.)
THE TEMPEST. 83
illustration, that if the poet has planned such a revelation, or rebirth, as we postulate, we only know the night-side or reflected side of his real spiritual light or meaning. It may seem day- light to us, but to him (until revealed) it is only Night and Moonlight. For Moonlight is the reflected light of an invisible Sun. We maintain the plays, simply taken as plays, are only half known, and that we gaze upon the moonlight of their real light. With such a theory we are prepared to apply this Sonnet to the Midsummer Nighfs Dream particularly. For that deals with Moonlight, with night, and dreams, and very plainly, as we have shown elsewhere, with the relationship of this art to Nature and to itsel£^
" Prospero. A solemn air, and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains, Now oseleas botVd within thy skull"
" The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason."
Such lines as these prove the character and quality of the relations of Prospero to the shipwrecked wanderers upon his island. It is their ** clearer reason " which has been befogged and closed up. There is ''no darkness but ignorance," says the poet elsewhere. And as the play has gradually led up from the vicissitude of imaginary death — tempest, lightning, confusion, wanderings, discord, and error — to the sublime apocalyptic vision of the Masque or heaven, so do we see in this process the end and aim of the initiations of the Mysteries of Eleusis pourtrayed to U8. The end and aim of those Mysteries was to reveal heavenly things, to enlighten the unenlightened, and to present the gods in the final scene, as creators and masters of the revels.
^ See chapter xii., on Midsummer Night* 8 Dream, "A new study of Shakespeare."
84 THE TEMPEST,
So Prospero as creator, as the magician of this enchanted art — as the great Master-Spirit of his creative cycle — is pourtrayed as sarrounded by the ocean, on an island, which as an island of souls, as a mythical Heaven, is invisible except to the Spirit, and to those Spirits who set out on a voyage of discovery, on the ocean of his illimitable Wisdom.