I have certainly given you the first hint of our pleasures, but you have improved upon my suggestions, and pursued them till they became luxury.
Real appetite is too dilatory for you, and you therefore practise a thousand artifices to be hungry. Often, too, when I have been quite disabled by excess, you make use of variety and persuasive dishes to give me new resolution for a debauch; and in all our other pleasures you endeavour to revive me in the same manner. My inclinations are slow to be provoked, and soon satisfied. You are indefatigably voluptuous. But you say that if I were out of the world crime would be unknown.
MIND.
Certainly: in my own nature I am pure and heavenly, but lose my best faculties by being entangled amongst your nerves, in which are seated all the passions that trouble mankind.
BODY.
I think I could enumerate a few passions whichfrequently disturb the world, and yet can hardly be imputed to me. Ambition is the cause of great calamities; perhaps, then, you can inform me in which of my limbs a love of sovereignty is fixed, since I know not of any aspiring muscle which entertains such designs. It seems to me that my arms and legs, with all my other limbs, are entirely free from avarice, envy, revenge, and many such passions, which certainly prevail amongst men; and therefore, if I am incapable of them, it is to be presumed that they are endowments of the immortal mind. Is it I who plot and deceive? are all schemes of fraud contrived by my muscles?
MIND.
These may not at first appear to be bodily vices, but I doubt not they are all remotely derived from you. All unjust schemes and practices are undertaken to procure your ultimate gratification; and I am convinced, that were I disengaged from you, I should desire nothing but what is virtuous and noble. I wish our confederacy could be ended.
BODY.
You often express a wish for this independence, and yet, whenever age or sickness makes it likely that we may soon part, you are thrown into the greatest alarm, and become extremely desirous ofremaining amongst these nerves which you now treat with so much contempt. How humbly do you then implore me to harbour you a little longer! How anxiously do you consult my countenance, and inquire what are my intentions; having recourse every hour to some medicine, prayer, or other plot, to retard the breaking of our alliance! If you sincerely desire a separation, why do not you rejoice when you appear likely to be released from me, who have subjected you to the hardship of enjoying so many pleasures. It is strange that you triumph so little in the expectation of immediately becoming a free spirit, and never again drinking wine or having the gout.
MIND.
My regret at parting from you is a weakness, to which I confess myself subject. Though I well know how unworthy you are of my kindness, yet from the years we have passed together I usually contract a tenderness for you, which, though I am ashamed of it, gives me some pain at the prospect of separation.
BODY.
I believe, rather, you then discover how very helpless you are without my assistance; and I suspect you feel some distrust of your ability to live at all apart from me.
MIND.
What! do you presume to question my immortality? Have you the arrogance to suppose that my being is vested in you? That reason, imagination, memory, and all my great endowments, are derived from your muscles and arteries? Can you deny that you spring from the earth? And how then is it possible that we should partake of the same nature?
BODY.
I am far from wishing to disclaim my origin, but acknowledge myself derived from the earth; and in return, let me beg you to give me some information concerning your own lineage. Are you acquainted with your parentage? Is your native place heaven or earth? Can you in any intelligible language relate who and what you are?
However, to proceed no farther in these questions about your origin, which you seem in no haste to answer, let me ask how you would pass your time if disunited from me, and deprived of those amusements which I afford; for I believe that I supply or assist all the chief pleasures of mankind.
MIND.
I should pass my time in contemplation like the gods.
BODY.
I know not what may be the habits of the gods; but if men were excluded from all pleasure except contemplation I believe they would not think it so agreeable an employment as you imagine.
MIND.
And pray, except vice and debauchery, which of the pleasures of life are supplied by you?
BODY.
Remember I have never pretended that separate from you I am qualified for happiness; I affirm only that I contribute my full share of the pleasures that we enjoy together, and that if in this world you were deprived of my society you would be melancholy and forlorn. If, then, you ask me what advantages are furnished by me, I answer that one of the chief pleasures of life is the love between the two sexes.
MIND.
And do you pretend to be the author of that love? I think more nobly of the passion, and regard it as a feeling of the mind alone.
BODY.
Such has always been your doctrine; but I believe that I, though sprung from the earth, have quite as much power to inspire love as you, whoare made of such great qualities as reason, imagination, memory, and I know not how many more. Lovers very commonly profess their fidelity to you, while in truth it is I on whom all their secret affections are fixed, for there are many whose notions of body and mind are so confused that they perpetually mistake one for the other. A young man declares himself enamoured of the mind of some beautiful woman, and yet when he is absent from her his thoughts are wholly occupied with her figure, and he passes his time in considering her countenance, her hair, her neck, while her reason, imagination, and memory do not once occur to him. When he is in her presence he takes great delight in pressing her hand, without betraying the least wish to press her intellect. Indeed, there can be no doubt that in most instances in which the admiration is professed to you I secretly supplant you, and win to myself all the real tenderness. If two young persons were reduced to the mere soul, and deprived of eyes, lips, and all the other conveniences which are now so instrumental in loving, I do not understand how they could contrive to love each other at all.
MIND.
I shall not condescend to reason with you any longer.
I must now explain the circumstances in which the preceding dispute between the mind and the body took place. It was an unusual controversy; for though the mind has often repeated these complaints against its colleague, the body has always endured them in silence. This account of the quarrel is translated from a Greek manuscript which has been lately discovered, and fell into my hands by an accident which I need not relate. This manuscript contained also the other tales in this volume, which are entitled translations from Greek. The author of them is unknown; but from his style he must certainly have lived in the later and more corrupt times of the Greek language. A great scholar is preparing these stories for publication by Latin notes and other encumbrances, without which they could not be valid Greek. In the mean time I give this translation.
The foregoing dialogue, according to this Greek author, was overheard by a philosopher named Aristus, who lived at Rhodes, where he had a great reputation and many disciples. He had one day been giving them a lecture on the inconvenience of having a body, on its vicious propensities, and interruptions of thought and study. He had lamented that it cannot be laid aside without loss of life, but exhorted his pupils to mortify, control, and govern it, and thus to be as nearly as possible exempt from it. Hislecture being ended, and his pupils dismissed to assume an authority over their bodies as they could, Aristus laid himself on a couch for rest in the heat of day, at the same time murmuring against the body, which exacted this indulgence, and very soon he fell into a strange kind of trance, in which he heard the foregoing dispute between the mind and the body as if within his own person. He listened till they were silent, and then rose out of his trance in great astonishment at this vision, which was quite different from a common dream.
He wondered that the mind had not argued with greater force, and thought that he could himself have pleaded its wrongs much better. Revolving the subject in his thoughts, he unconsciously said aloud, "Whatever the body may say in praise of itself, I should heartily rejoice in being free from all intercourse with it."
"Do you sincerely wish to relinquish your body?" said a voice close to him.
He looked round in surprise, but saw nobody: the voice seemed to come from the hearth, upon which were some little wooden images, his household gods, and while he gazed, one of these little figures opened its mouth and repeated the question. These deities of the hearth had hitherto been as silent as other gods of the same materials, and Aristus was overawed by the unexpected voice.
"Why," continued the image, "are you so much astonished? Is it wonderful that a god should be able to speak?"
"Certainly," answered the philosopher, "I did not expect a voice from an oaken god."
"But," replied the deity, "you have worshipped me with prayers and offerings, and must therefore have believed in my power."
"I have worshipped you," said Aristus, "in deference to the customs of my country; but to tell you the truth, I no more expected any blessing from you than from my walking stick, which is of the same wood as yourself."
"You philosophers," said the image, "are very apt to deprive the gods of their privileges: but you have deserved a benefit from me by rescuing me a few days ago from the fire, into which one of your children had thrown me, and as it is in my power to separate you from your body I will do so if such is your wish, still leaving you the faculties of seeing, hearing, and speaking, which you would find convenient; but I advise you to decide cautiously, for when once you have quitted your body you cannot enter it again."
Aristus still persisted in the wish to be disencumbered of his limbs, and vehemently entreated the image to execute what it promised, so possessed was he by his philosophy, though he was then in the prime of life, when the body imparts so many agreeable hints, which it afterwards losesthe power of communicating. "Then," said the protector of the hearth, "if such is your resolution, go down to the sea-shore, and sprinkle a little of the salt water in your face, at the same time pronouncing a word which I will teach you: immediately your body will fade away, and leave you as free a soul as you desire to be." He then taught Aristus to pronounce the powerful word, and the philosopher eagerly expressed his gratitude for the privilege of not having a body. But he said there was one thing wanted to make his happiness complete. He had lived in great concord with his wife, but he feared that when they were become so dissimilar, she being confined within a body, and he reduced to reason and voice, they should not be so well fitted for the society of each other; he therefore entreated the household god, that his wife, Cleopatra, might be brought into the same condition as he was himself about to assume. "I will grant your request," answered the image, "if your wife concurs in it, but I shall not confiscate her person without her own consent. If she agrees to what you wish, let her sprinkle her face with sea water, and pronounce the word that I have taught you, and she will find the same consequences."
Aristus having again thanked the image, walked down to the sea in great expectation of what was to happen; and as soon as he had sprinkled his face, and pronounced the mysterious word, he sawhis body begin to escape. His arms, legs, and trunk wasted gradually away, and he could not avoid feeling some horror on looking down at himself thus diminished.
But this melancholy spectacle lasted only a few moments, for he soon withered away, and entirely vanished, so that he could not see the least remnant of himself. When he was quite gone, he no longer pitied the limbs, which had looked so rueful; and being very much elevated by the singularity of his condition, he set out towards home to inform his wife of the advantage he had obtained for himself and her. He was in great admiration of the new kind of being with which he found himself endowed. His body had left him so much remembrance of it, that he still imagined himself to be moving his limbs. At first, therefore, forgetting his want of substance, he set out to walk, as having legs, and fancied himself proceeding in the usual manner, till he looked down, and saw nothing to represent legs or feet. He had also a sensation of arms, together with the belief of a head, and of every other part of his late body. As he went along, he was continually looking for himself, and could hardly be convinced that the limbs, which he felt so plainly, were not there. However, he made the same progress on these imaginary legs as if he had been really walking.
The household god, in taking his body away,had left him those faculties of it, without which he could not have enjoyed any conversation or intercourse with mankind. The power of speech would have been forfeited with his tongue; but the god had contrived him a supposititious voice, exactly resembling the bodily one which he had lost; and thus when he seemed to himself to be opening his mouth, and moving his tongue, though his mouth and tongue were fallacies, yet he produced sounds as serviceable as those which his real tongue had formerly effected. The sense of hearing, too, being instrumental in conversation, and having been lost with his ears, he was by the same magic provided with a substitute for it. With these endowments, he went home in quest of his wife, designing the same spoliation of her.
He had often descanted to her on the demerits of the body, and told her how happily the soul might live apart from it. She having no love of dispute had always seemed to acquiesce in his philosophical opinions; he now therefore believed that he should have no difficulty in persuading her to follow his example, and discard this useless appendage.
When he arrived at home, he was, from habit, about to knock at the door; but endeavouring to raise what seemed to him a hand and arm, and seeing, to his surprise, that no hand or arm resulted from the supposed effort, he remembered his new condition, and was at a loss in what mannerto procure entrance into his house. He called many times, but was not heard; and to his perplexity now first discovered that the immortal soul by itself cannot knock at a door. He thought that the god ought to have remedied this defect, and that as he had made him a false speech and hearing, by the same art he ought to have invented some fiction, by which he might have gained an entrance into his own house. It then occurred to him that the arm which he had just discarded was the very instrument that he was in need of, and a sudden apprehension crossed his mind that he had acted rashly. From this difficulty he was relieved by pressing against the door, and finding that he passed through it as if it had been air. Delighted and re-assured by this exploit, he tried himself against two or three other doors, which also offered no opposition, and he stood in his wife's apartment. She was quite ignorant of his presence: he passed before her face, and she took no notice of him; till having amused himself for a short time in watching her, he pronounced her name aloud. She started, and looked round the room without answering: he stood close to her, and again uttered her name, when in great astonishment she said, "Aristus, is that you?"
"Yes, certainly; do not you know my voice?"
"Where are you?"
"Here, in this room, close to you; my hand is on your shoulder. Though, indeed, I cannotproperly call it my hand, because I no longer have one, but that sensation of a hand which I retain is now placed on your shoulder."
"The sensation of a hand!" she exclaimed; "what can this mean? You must have been learning some juggling arts, by which you make your voice seem so near to me. But pray come into the room."
"My dearest wife, cannot you believe me? I am now in the room with you. My soul, my intellect, all the faculties of my mind are by your side at this moment; as for the body, arms, and legs, which you have been accustomed to call Aristus, I know not what is become of them."
Aristus, perceiving that this explanation of his circumstances was not quite intelligible to Cleopatra, at length relieved her astonishment by relating to her his conversation with the image, and the change which it had so kindly effected in him. His wife would have believed this wonderful tale to be merely a pleasantry of her husband's, had she not been convinced of its truth by his being invisible. She looked all round, and could see nothing; the voice was certainly close to her; and when she heard the air telling her this story she could not refuse to believe that something unusual had occurred.
She did not at first understand that her husband was to pass all his life in this condition, but imagined that he had merely gained a privilege ofmaking himself invisible at pleasure; and in this belief she said to him, "The Image has certainly taught you an excellent trick; but as I have now had a proof of it, pray let me see you come to yourself again."
"What do you mean by coming to myself?"
"Why, making visible the body that you now contrive to hide?"
"Do you believe, then, that my body is here in concealment?"
"I do not understand how you can be here without it."
"Have I not already explained to you that my body is no longer a part of me? Though it is away I am present; that is to say, my judgment, my imagination, my memory, are here in person."
"Where are they? I cannot see them."
"No, they are not things to be looked at, but to be reasoned about."
"What! shall I never see you again, and shall I only reason about you in future?"
"You will never again see those paltry limbs in which I formerly went about; but me you will have with you still, that is, my reason,my ——"
"Oh, Aristus! what have you done?"
"Surely you do not regret what I have done. I have attained to that pure and exalted condition which is natural to me,—I have become a genuine mind, and shall pass the rest of my days in free contemplation. But this is not all, I have happytidings for you; the household god, at my entreaty, has consented to extricate you also from your body. You have only to repair to the sea, and as soon as you have sprinkled a little salt water in your face, and repeated a word, which I will teach you, your body will release you, and you will see it crumble away. Let us immediately go to the sea, and practise this enchantment."
"Indeed if I thought water would have such an effect I would never wash my face again."
"You do not seriously mean to be so perverse as to neglect this opportunity of quitting your body."
"Really I do not understand what is the advantage of being without a body."
"Have I not often explained to you that the mind by being disengaged from the limbs is able to think with all its natural vigour?"
"My limbs do not prevent me from thinking: I have now as many thoughts as I desire, and do not wish to lose so much as a finger."
"I am grieved that you are unable to value the blessing offered you. Consider the glorious life we shall enjoy, when together with our bodies we shall have laid aside our infirmities. We shall undoubtedly soon become the two wisest persons upon earth, we shall attain to contemplations hitherto beyond the reach of mortal reason, and shall every day make fresh discoveries in nature."
"One of us is sufficient for all this: you canmake discoveries while I stay in my body, and then you can tell me what you have found."
"And do you imagine that you, a composition of dust, will be able to comprehend the conceptions of a pure spirit?"
"I must be content, then, with as many of them as are suitable to my capacity."
Aristus was greatly mortified by this obstinacy of his wife; and being determined to enforce his advice, he turned towards her, as he imagined, with a look not to be disputed, but suddenly remembered that he had no longer a face to be stern with, and that this invisible anger could have but little efficacy. Finding, therefore, that his wife began already to have less veneration for him, now that he was out of sight, he became more than ever desirous of obtaining the resignation of her body, and continued to remonstrate against her perverseness. She persisted, however, in refusing the release that he offered, and also reproached him with his folly, lamenting her loss very bitterly, and declaring that nothing could reconcile her to the change of his character.
Aristus endeavoured to prove to her that his efficacy was not at all diminished, the mind constituting a rational creature, and the body being an insignificant addition. While he was thus labouring to vindicate himself, a friend of his, named Polemo, entered the room, and inquired whether Aristus was at home.
"Oh, Polemo!" exclaimed Cleopatra, weeping vehemently, "you are come to receive sad intelligence of your friend: you will never see him again."
Polemo, supposing him to be dead, expressed the greatest sorrow, and asked what disease or accident had caused this unexpected calamity.
"Aristus can best relate his misfortune to you himself," answered Cleopatra; "for I scarcely understand what has happened to him."
"Is my friend then still alive?" inquired Polemo eagerly.
"He is; but you can never again look upon him."
"What can you mean? I conjure you to explain what has occurred."
"Oh, Polemo! one of our household gods has taken away Aristus's body from him. But ask him to tell you what has happened, for he is now in the room."
"Now in the room! and without his body! Really, if it were not for your tears, I should suppose you were jesting. Perhaps there may be some pleasant raillery in all this, but I confess I am too dull to understand it."
"Why do not you speak," said Cleopatra, addressing herself to the air, "and explain this mystery?"
Aristus having thus long suffered his friend'sperplexity to continue, at length declared himself bysaying,—
"It is true that I am now in the room and apart from my body, but I know you will not regard my separation as a calamity."
Polemo was in great astonishment when these words spoke themselves close to him. He knew the voice to be his friend's, and looking round endeavoured to find him, till Aristus related to him the whole adventure, and the circumstances in which he now found himself, saying to him at the conclusion of hisstory,—
"You have come fortunately, my friend, to assist me in persuading my wife to her duty. I have prevailed on the god to grant that by sprinkling her face, and by the magical word, she shall be let loose as I was, but (would you believe it?) she determines to remain shut up in her body, and in spite of the fidelity and love which I have a right to expect from her, she positively refuses to resemble me."
"Indeed, my friend," answered Polemo, "I think you very unreasonable in expecting that she should submit to such a change. She is certainly obliged as a wife to be faithful and kind, but it does not seem to me that as a wife she is obliged to be air whenever you may think fit to desire it."
"But is she not acting contrary to her own happiness in refusing such an opportunity?"
"Why, perhaps she has not, like you, felt the hardship of a body, but having passed many years in hers very comfortably, has no reason for desiring to break out of it. Not only do I commend her prudence, but I believe that you even, philosopher as you are, will soon repent of having allowed yourself to be thus despoiled; and I earnestly advise you to repair instantly to this household god which takes away men's bodies, and entreat that it will again let you into the human frame, which you have so unadvisedly abandoned; that is, if it has not quite decayed since your desertion of it, but can still be repaired so as to be habitable."
"That, I rejoice to say, is impossible," answered Aristus: "my body is gone—quite annulled—I saw it abolished. But even if there were still a frame fit for my reception, do you imagine, that after having once escaped from that carcass I shall ever suffer myself to be inveigled into it again?"
"And pray what advantages have you gained by being shut out?"
"I have gained the power of passing my life in uninterrupted thought, the proper employment of the human mind."
"But why could not you think in your body? I do not understand why your limbs should interfere with your studies. When I wish to thinkI never find that my arm interrupts me, or that my leg breaks in upon my meditations."
"Nor did his body interrupt him," exclaimed Cleopatra: "I have seen him sit in it and think for hours together without any one of his limbs molesting him."
"Indeed," replied Polemo, "I think he had as much time for contemplation as a man moderately thoughtful could wish."
"But," said Aristus, "what an addition is now made to my life! for I shall not lose a moment of time in any of those duties which the body exacts. I am no longer required to eat, drink, or sleep."
"You have to rejoice, then, in being quite exempt from pleasure," said Polemo.
"Entirely so."
"I hope you may find this immunity as delightful as you expect," said his friend; "but I cannot help fearing that you will soon begin to look back with regret on those bodily employments by which you tell me you have been so much persecuted; some of them seem to me very pleasant."
"You would not suppose me likely to feel much regret if you knew what satisfaction and alacrity I now find from being at large, and with what compassion I regard you, when I see you encumbered by all those useless limbs."
"I can carry them without any inconvenience,and in my turn I lament that you should go about nothing but voice, and talk out of the air in that ridiculous manner."
"You will envy my condition when you hear of my discoveries in philosophy, and the wisdom and renown which I shall attain. From the elevation of thought, which I feel already, I have no doubt that my progress in study will be very rapid, and that I shall soon have things to impart to you much too sublime to have been discovered within a body."
After some further conversation Polemo took his leave, having promised to return soon, that he might learn the discoveries which Aristus should have made.
Cleopatra, being now left alone with the voice, which she was henceforth to regard as Aristus, remained silent, and plainly showed by her dejected countenance that she did not consider this sound as equivalent to a husband; while Aristus, in suggesting arguments to console her, felt himself very insignificant, and was conscious that he greatly wanted personal advantages. The remainder of the day having passed in melancholy conversation, and the hour of rest being arrived, he said, "We must now part, for the immortal soul does not lie in bed: your body insists upon sleep, but I, being intellect, am no longer liable to any such infirmity. While you and your body are asleep, I shall be engaged in meditation, andyou see, therefore, how many valuable hours I have rescued."
Cleopatra retired alone, not a little indignant that this meditation should have supplanted her in her husband's affections, while he left the house and glided forth to pass the night in contemplation, as he said. The moon was bright, and the night calm and beautiful. He sat down on the sea-shore, and betook himself to the consideration of several philosophical subjects, being very desirous of arriving at some happy thought, which might justify him to his friend. He had been persuaded that as soon as he was reduced to pure intellect he should be put in possession of extraordinary powers, and that whenever he applied himself to thinking, some great revelation would be made to him. He now, therefore, sat waiting for these new thoughts; but though he revolved one subject after another, on which he desired to gain information, to his great disappointment his meditations did not seem to him more profound than when he had been detained in a body.
After some hours, he was weary of these studies, by which he was surprised, having always imagined that the soul was not liable to fatigue, and having always laid to the charge of his body all the weariness that he had felt. Finding, however, that he was not the indefatigable intellect which he had expected to be, he returned home withouthaving acquired any information except that it was a fine night. On arriving at home, he entered his wife's chamber, and sat down by her bed. She was asleep, and appeared very beautiful to him, and he could not refrain from stooping to kiss her, forgetting how incapable of such an enterprise he was become. On reaching her face he endeavoured to press what he considered his lips against hers, and finding that no intercourse ensued, was reminded of the deception. Being distressed that all endearments were unattainable, he continued to gaze upon her, acknowledging to himself that she was a beautiful woman, and beginning to doubt whether he had done right. But he suddenly checked himself with the consideration that he was now a pure soul, and as such, could not possibly be affected by female beauty.
Aristus had several young children, and the next morning Cleopatra endeavoured to explain to them the change that had taken place in their father. This, however, she was unable to make them comprehend: they were never to see him again, they were told, yet he was still with them, and by what means he had been put out of sight was a mystery beyond their understanding. That figure which they had been used to consider as their father having vanished, they wondered how any remainder of him could be left, and were much perplexed by hearing that he had beendivided into two. In vain their mother tried to explain to them that the body might be gone, and the mind remain at home; this was a distinction that they could not reach.
Aristus remained silent while his wife thus endeavoured to explain him to the children; but finding himself too abstruse for their understanding, in order to make his condition more intelligible, he spoke to them. They were at first terrified by this mysterious voice, and could hardly be prevented from running away; but hearing it solemnly assure them that it was their father, and had no design of hurting them, they took courage, and were then greatly amused to find how their father had hid himself,—they laughed violently whenever he spoke, and seemed to be delighted with the novelty. It was not long before Aristus found that the order and obedience of the family were likely to be much disturbed by his concealment. His wife being of a gentle temper had left to him all the duty of command, and never claimed much authority to herself; but now his influence was much lessened by his new singularity, and the household was soon in great want of control. He endeavoured to admonish and instruct his children as before, but the same obedience did not ensue. They had been accustomed to follow without hesitation the advice which came from a peremptory countenance; but now the advice which came out of the air made very little impressionupon them. His positive commands were broken, and the lessons he enjoined were not learned. Their mother attempted to persuade them of the duty they owed to the voice which was going about the house, and which she affirmed was still their father; but her expostulations could procure no obedience to the venerable sound, and it was disobeyed every hour. In this revolt, Aristus having nothing but a voice to govern with made trial of all its tones, but still without success. Sometimes he remonstrated gravely, and at other times was provoked into very loud invectives. When the voice grew choleric the children were amused; they practised tricks to incense it, and laughed immoderately whenever the air began to exclaim. On one occasion, Aristus being exasperated beyond forbearance against his eldest boy, and forgetting how incapable of revenge he was become, attempted to inflict on him a severe blow; but the offender sitting quite insensible of the admonition which had been aimed at him, Aristus was obliged to confess that the mind, notwithstanding all its great endowments, cannot chastise a child without the aid of an arm.
Aristus had not lived long in this unusual condition before he began to look back with regret upon the domestic happiness which he had enjoyed in his body. He had relinquished all his pleasures, and had not found those improvements in wisdom which he had expected. At first he had beenpleased by the novelty of his condition, the miracle of being invisible, and the privilege of passing through a wall as if it were air, but when he was accustomed to these ways he no longer found any amusement in them, and pierced a wall without the least satisfaction. When all mankind retired to sleep he sighed for that sweet rest and forgetfulness, in exchange for which he had to pass his nights in a dreary wandering.
He would now have most gladly subjected himself again to eating, sleeping, and all such ignominious practices, in his exemption from which he had at first so much exulted. When he saw any poor squalid wretch, he thought of the happiness he enjoyed by being settled in a body, and he could not look at an arm or leg, however withered and crooked, without envying the proprietor of it.
He had frequent visits from his friend Polemo, who always inquired what discoveries he had been making, and entreated him not to do so great an injury to mankind as to keep them secret. To which Aristus answered that he had indeed discovered many wonderful things, but since they were all far too sublime to be comprehended by any person covered up in a body, it would be useless to endeavour to explain them to Polemo; but if by any means he could clear his mind from the limbs which obscured it he would freely impart to him all his new acquirements. He had also tocontend against the visits and inquiries of all his friends; for the news being soon spread that the mind of Aristus was loose from his body, all were seized with a curiosity to know how a mind could live in such circumstances. For several days, therefore, his house was crowded with visiters, all desirous of hearing the mind speak.
They entreated Aristus to speak first in one place, then in another, and to move about and talk in every corner of the room, that they might be convinced he was not a deception.
Aristus continued to verify himself in this manner till his patience was quite exhausted by the incredulity of his friends; some of whom he could hardly persuade to believe in him by all the proofs that he could furnish. He was perplexed, too, by their innumerable questions: they wanted to be informed whether he had been cold when he was first stripped, what were his sensations, by what contrivance he moved himself about, and what invention had enabled him to talk without a tongue. Many other such inquiries were made, which Aristus answered as favourably to his own condition as he could.
He was chiefly incensed that all his friends regarded this event as a great misfortune to him. In vain he endeavoured to undeceive them, and to explain the happiness he was enjoying—they persisted in pitying him; and he saw that they thoughthe had committed a great folly in abandoning his comfortable body.
At length being quite overcome by his numberless vexations he resolved to implore the household god that it would revoke what it had done for him, and admit him again into his old frame if it were still fit for his reception. Repairing, therefore, to the image, he entreated very earnestly that his body might be restored to him. But to this request the little figure remained as insensible as any other piece of wood. He therefore repeated the prayer, and uttered a mournful narrative of his sufferings, which, however, failed to extort any answer from the god.
This hope being disappointed, Aristus became every day more miserable, till as he was walking on a cliff near the sea, and considering his several vexations, he suddenly determined to destroy himself by leaping from the cliff, as the only remedy of his afflictions. First, therefore, turning round he surveyed his native country as for the last time, after which he confronted the precipice, and having completed all his preparations, sprung desperately into the air. He felt himself falling, and expected every moment to be dashed to pieces, till finding that he had suddenly stopped, and looking round to discover the cause, he perceived that he was impeded by the earth, at which he had arrived, and on which he was now safely standing. He looked up, the rockwas above him, and finding that he had attained the bottom of it without any success, he discovered what in the distraction of his thoughts had never occurred to him, that in order to be killed from a precipice a body is necessary. He began to consider, too, that he was equally unable to practise against himself any of the other arts of dying. A dagger would in his case prove as futile as a precipice; he was also disqualified for being hanged or drowned; there was no drug of sufficient skill to benefit him, and thus in dismay he remembered his perfect security. Not having, therefore, received the comfort that he had hoped by his fall from the rock, he had no expedient left but to return home. Day after day passed without any diminution of his misery, the ridicule of his friends and the discontent of his wife continuing.
He was grieved to remark an increasing coldness in her manner whenever he conversed with her, in consequence of which he was more frequently absent from home. That she loved him less now than when he had a body appeared to him a very culpable inconstancy; and while he was considering what could be the reason of it, he was told that Cleon had been seen to enter his house many times lately. This Cleon had been his rival for the affections of Cleopatra when he was first endeavouring to obtain her as his wife, and at one period of the conflict had seemed to have a chance of being preferred. Aristus, therefore, was greatlytroubled by hearing of his visits, and was conscious that Cleon having the advantage of a body they should no longer contend upon equal terms. He resolved, therefore, in order to discover the real purpose, and danger of this rival's visits, that he would watch the house, and be present at the next interview unperceived, for which undertaking he was effectually concealed. The being so admirably qualified to observe the conduct of his wife was the first advantage that he had been able to discover in the absence of a body. But before he had an opportunity of putting this design in execution he gained by other means the information that he wanted. One day on entering his wife's apartment he found her in company with her sister, and hearing his own name mentioned, he remained in ambush to listen to their conversation; from which he learned that Cleon had been endeavouring to convince Cleopatra that by her husband's disappearing she had been separated from him as lawfully as if he had died in the usual way, and, therefore, since she was at liberty to contract a new marriage, he had urged her to accept of himself, who had suffered no such abolition, but was actually a human being. It appeared that Cleopatra had scrupled to consider her husband deceased; and at the moment when he entered the room the sister was urging her to comply with the entreaties of Cleon, and endeavouring to satisfy her that Aristus was virtually dead. "My dearest Cleopatra,"said the sister, "let me persuade you not to refuse the comfort of this marriage; you are certainly authorised to be a widow."
"Not while Aristus is alive."
"Alive! if he is so let him show himself, and claim you as his wife."
"He cannot show himself, as you know."
"He is not dead then, but merely obliterated to such a degree that we cannot see him. But can he do any thing like other human beings."
"Yes, he can think."
"An excellent husband!"
"The noblest part of him remains, his reason, his memory, his imagination."
"But when you married, you were not contracted to a reason, a memory, or an imagination, but to a human being in possession of two arms, two legs, and altogether a competence of body; this person is gone. I am surprised that Aristus, after being expunged as he has been, should still pretend to be a married man. His absconding in this strange manner is certainly equivalent to death; for as to the voice which is left to personate him, it is ridiculous to profess fidelity to a sound. How can a noise be entitled to a wife and children? It seems to me you might with as much advantage be married to the creaking of a door."
"I greatly lament the change."
"It is impossible you can have any affection forhim as he now is, and I am sure you have never been happy since he first dwindled away."
"I have indeed suffered much vexation. Aristus tells me I should be better satisfied if I were like him; and he is constantly urging me to surrender my body."
"I would not give up my little finger to please him. I am sure you cannot be persuaded to any thing so extravagant."
"I certainly shall not; I am very easy in my body, and shall remain there."
"But I wish to convince you that Aristus is intrinsically dead."
"I can hardly think it: this concealment of him is something very different from the dying in his bed, and my closing his eyes, and weeping, and having a funeral."
"He has not, indeed, passed through all the formal dying, which would have been satisfactory; but, nevertheless, every rational person must think that he is so far dead as to empower you to be a widow. Therefore pray resolve at once to disclaim any farther connection with this reason, or intellect, or whatever else your sound may choose to style itself. I am sure Cleon will be a good husband; and he has wealth, a kind disposition, and a body."
"Still I cannot help preserving a reverence for Aristus."
"You may still revere your late husband and lament his death; that does not prevent your marrying again: but to revere a sound as being Aristus is ridiculous. You might as well, if he had died in the usual way, consider yourself married to his ashes."
"But if I were to become the wife of Cleon, I could not bear the reproaches of Aristus. He would pursue me every where, and inveigh against my infidelity. And I should have no means of shutting him out, for he walks through a wall without feeling it. He would certainly haunt me like a ghost!"
"He will probably be troublesome at first; but if you act with spirit he will soon find the folly of his clamours, and I think you may easily bear a little invisible scolding. I am sure you must despise him for lurking about you in this dishonourable manner. I could not bear a husband that came walking to me through a wall. Cleon will pass through a door in the natural way."
Aristus had stood by during this conversation, and heard with great resentment the arguments for his being dead: he was about to speak, when he was prevented by this censure on the meanness of his concealment; and he began to consider, that if he affirmed himself to be there, his petulant sister-in-law would probably have the confidence to persist in his death, and might defy him to appear and prove himself to be real, his inabilityto do which would confirm her reasoning. He therefore remained hid to hear the sequel of the conversation, in which his wife became more inclined to believe that he was in justice dead, and at last she promised her sister that she would consider the matter, and endeavour to satisfy her scruples. The sister then departed, saying, "When this voice of yours comes home, pray tell him openly that you look upon him as an imposture, and do not listen to any casuistry by which he would pretend to be a human being, but tell him you will believe it when you see him."
Aristus, in greater distress than ever, resolved, as a last hope, to try once more the indulgence of the household god, and entreat him to restore the body, being convinced that by appearing in it he should instantly revive all Cleopatra's affection, and suppress any thoughts which she might have admitted in favour of Cleon.
He therefore repaired again to the hearth; where, with the most pitiful entreaties, he conjured the image to hear his prayers. To his great joy it opened its mouth, and asked what was his request. With great humility he acknowledged his error, described the misery of his present banishment, and prayed for permission to live again in his body. On hearing this the god animadverted on his folly in having ever wished to leave it, representing to him the impiety of discontent, with the duty of acquiescing in the nature assignedto man, and living in perfect resignation to the gods.
Aristus listened very humbly to these admonitions, and assured the image that he was now fully sensible of his fault, and eager to resume his body that he might acquiesce in it, and show his resignation for the rest of his life.
The image then taught him certain magical words, by pronouncing which he was to regain his body. The restoration was not to take place at once, but one part of the body to be recalled after another, each word having authority over a particular limb.
Aristus having made himself master of these words earnestly expressed his gratitude to the image, and returned home without making trial whether any of his limbs were within call, designing to astonish his wife by coming to light in her presence. Having entered her apartment, where she was alone, he thus addressedher:—
"As I find, Cleopatra, that you cannot reconcile yourself to my present condition, I am willing, if possible, to sacrifice for your sake all the happiness that I enjoy in it, and again to undergo my body. I have therefore been entreating the household god to contrive this for me. His answer was so ambiguous that I know not whether he intends to comply with my prayer or not, but from some hints that he gave I thinkit not improbable that you may see me gradually coming back."
Cleopatra seemed to give little belief to this; but Aristus, speaking that word which had command over the beard, it instantly began to grow, and by degrees fell down in full beauty, and there being yet no chin for it to be associated with, Cleopatra was astonished by the unusual spectacle of an independent beard supporting itself in the air. Her eyes sparkled with hope at the sight; but Aristus, to amuse himself with her suspense, delayed for some time to resume any other part of himself. He was delighted to see, by the eagerness of his wife for his return, that when finished he should have nothing to fear from Cleon.
In great anxiety she watched his beard, expecting a chin to ensue from it, and at last exclaimed in alarm, "My dearest Aristus, how slowly you grow! I hope the god means to bring you back entire: surely he will not limit you to a beard."
"It is impossible to say," answered Aristus, "whether he will think proper to suppress any of my limbs or not, but you must endeavour to be content with as much of me as he may choose to give you."
He then spoke another of the supernatural words, and a chin was annexed to the beard: this soon spread into a face, which gradually advancedto an entire head. Cleopatra was in raptures at seeing once more the countenance of her husband. She kissed the lips again and again, till quite assured that they were real. The coming so strangely out of the air made it seem as if the whole appearance were an artifice; but by examination she was convinced that what she saw was not only a true head, but the very same which Aristus had worn. He continued these additions to himself, repeating from time to time one of the magical words, each of which produced its corresponding part. Every new appearance delighted Cleopatra, and with the greatest emotion she watched him coming back limb by limb, till at length he stood before her quite completed.
Translated from a Greek Manuscript lately discovered.
ALCIBIADES.
Fly! Praxinoe, fly! I hear the voice of Socrates, and it frightens me as much as the voice of Cerberus. Pick up your girdle and run. Leander, here! remove the wine and fruit. Now my apartment looks more austere than before. Here he comes. I wish he were at the pillars of Hercules. Ah! Socrates, welcome.
SOCRATES.
Alcibiades, we expected you at the house of Agatho. You had promised to be present at our conversation, and perhaps you might have benefited by it as much as by lying on that couch.
ALCIBIADES.
I should have come, Socrates; but I was seizedby a sudden sickness, which made me quite unfit for philosophy.
SOCRATES.
I am grieved to hear it; but the colour in your cheeks makes me hope for a speedy recovery.
ALCIBIADES.
I begin to think, indeed, that the disorder has left me.
SOCRATES.
I am sure it has, for I met it at the door. But was that beautiful creature a disease? I imagined, as it glided by me, that it must be Hebe herself who had been visiting you. I never before saw so blooming an illness.
ALCIBIADES.
Ah! Socrates, I never succeed in deceiving you. I think I have heard you boast that you have brought philosophy down from the stars to live amongst men.
SOCRATES.
Is she not likely to do more good to men than to the stars?
ALCIBIADES.
Why, I was going to advise that you should release her and let her fly up again, for she wouldbe much less troublesome amongst the stars than at Athens. The truth is, I cannot enjoy my pleasures while she is observing them, but she might observe the Pleiades as long as she pleased without giving me the least disturbance. But now, since I have lost your conversation to-day, I would willingly hear you explain a difficulty that I can propose. Perhaps one cause of my zeal for instruction at this moment is a wish to divert the reproof that I see coming.
SOCRATES.
I think you have justly interpreted your love of knowledge. However, let me hear the difficulty. But stay, here are more friends; Cleocrates and Hiero.
ALCIBIADES.
Welcome, my friends! but you shall not interrupt our conversation. Therefore, without taking farther notice of you, I proceed to ask Socrates why it is that I, being one man, discover within myself so many different characters? I find a philosopher who would always be engaged in study, a reveller that would make life but one debauch, and a politician who loves to be busy with the state, a prudent man who foresees every danger, and a rash fool who never avoids one, all collected together and called Alcibiades. Nor do these different persons prevail in turn, but alltogether; I wish to be wise and foolish at the same instant, and frequently cannot decide which I desire the most. So a few hours ago I wished to be both with you at the house of Agatho, and here with a Rhodian girl. So violent was the contest that I expected to be torn into two parts by it, and that one half of me would go to hear you talk, while the other remained here with the Rhodian.
SOCRATES.
I should have been content with a smaller share of you than half; if you had only sent your head by a servant, the fair Rhodian might have kept the remainder, and I imagine you would not have been the less fit to entertain her from wanting merely a head.
ALCIBIADES.
Not at all; but my whole head would not have consented to go, one part of it only being inclined to philosophy. I am the same divided person that Cerberus must be if he has a disposition to each head. Now pray let me hear the explanation of this.
SOCRATES.
I transfer the duty to Cleocrates, who three days ago was about to tell me something that he brought out of Egypt on this very subject. Youknow that a man cannot be wise without having been in Egypt.
CLEOCRATES.
You shall hear my tale; but Hiero too can tell one to account for these contending inclinations, and he having been not only in Egypt, but in every other country, is entitled to be far wiser than I am. Let him, therefore, speak first.
ALCIBIADES.
Begin, Hiero; and I charge you to omit all apology, preface, and modesty.
HIERO.
Rejecting then all such impediments, I begin by telling you that amongst every people which I have visited in my travels, I have found a great curiosity to know the origin and first condition of mankind, and to learn the changes which have made men what they now are. Accordingly in every country some person has undertaken to gratify this desire, and disclose the first beginning of man, and his progress to the present condition; so that there is not a race to be found, however savage and destitute of literature, which has not some legend of the early circumstances of the world. Fortunately none are so inquisitive as to ask how these things became known to the historian who first divulged them; men think theyhave nothing to do with the story, but to believe it.
The general opinion seems to be, that since it is absolutely necessary for the peace of our minds that some origin of things should be current amongst us, it would be very unwise to undermine the one we have now, because it might not be easy to find another. The best course is to let things begin as they have been used to do.
Thus the world has as many origins as it has races of men; all are believed with the same resolution, and good men are ready to defend their own beginning of things at the hazard of their lives. Though these histories of unknown times are very different from each other, yet in one particular they all agree, which is in supposing that man is now, by his own vice and folly, in a very inferior condition to that which he once enjoyed.
I shall now give you my narrative of the early state of mankind, being assured that I have as ample information on the subject as any previous author; and I claim the advantage allowed to all historians of this kind, which is, that I shall not be suspected of fiction merely because I relate events of which there is neither remembrance nor history.
The first generation of men was much more powerful and happy than the present. The human race was not divided into two sexes, as now; but the two sexes were united in every singleperson. Each human being was composed of male and female, so joined together as to make one person. Each, therefore, was supplied with four arms, four legs, two faces, and two bodies. The two were separate in every part except the head, which was the point that united them: the heads grew together without any partition of skull between them, so that the two brains were joined, and thus the two bodies were governed by one will and understanding. The male was always on the right side, and the female on the left. Every man, therefore, was naturally married, and without any choice of his own.
This combination of the two sexes prevented a great part of the miseries by which life is now infested; for it is manifest that the world is unhappy chiefly by the quarrels, jealousies, and contending wishes of man and woman. Hence most of the great wars which have depopulated the earth. If Helen had been fastened to Menelaus by the head, it is plain that she could not have eloped from him, and involved Greece and Asia in misfortune; nor is it probable that Clytemnestra would have divided the head of Agamemnon with an axe if her own head must have shared the blow.
Amongst this double race there was nothing to interrupt domestic peace. It is evident there could be no such passion as jealousy, for when a man's wife was part of himself he could not suspect her of infidelity. There being only one mindin the double body, the male half never was enamoured of the female half of another person, nor did the female side love any but the male to which she was annexed. A man, therefore, was then as unlikely to charge his female side with disobedience as he would be now to accuse his own arm or leg of a mutiny. It is well known too that the present conjugal love, however vehement at first, is very apt to fall out of the heart after a certain time, which accident could not occur in the double condition, the love of one half for the other being a kind of self-love; so that any one who considers the fidelity with which he adheres to himself in our present circumstances, will know with how much greater constancy the man and woman then lived together than they do now. That forgiveness with which a man now regards his own faults and that patience with which he waits for his own reformation were then practised between the two sexes, to the great peace and concord of every family. All sensations felt by one side were imparted equally to the other, so that the husband could not pursue his pleasures apart from his wife. Besides this, when people were born married, as I describe, they avoided all doubt and perplexity of choice; there were no fears and anxieties in love, no vain pursuits, nor affections without return. The male part was no more doubtful of the female's kindness than a man is now apprehensive of losing his own esteem.
But it pleased the gods that this happy condition should cease. The reason of their displeasure I cannot assign with any certainty. It has been thought that these double men having much greater strength and dexterity than the present race, had made Jupiter apprehend that they might at some time revolt from heaven, and become dangerous enemies. And it is observable that in all countries, however religions may vary, there is some obscure tradition of the gods having once imagined their supremacy to be in danger, which I think argues a remarkable cowardice in the divine nature; for when we consider the distance from earth to heaven, we can hardly meditate an attack from this quarter with any reasonable hope of victory. But I am rather inclined to think that in this case Jupiter was not moved by the power of men, but by their happiness. An excess of good is contrary to our nature, and certainly the gods have always shown a very provident care in supplying us with sufficient misfortunes. But whatever reasons may have decided the King of the Gods, it is certain that he resolved to divide man from woman, and make them live as two separate beings. Having therefore counted the number of mortals on the earth, he took the same number of thunderbolts in his hand, and hurled them with such certainty as to cleave every human being into two parts. I think that a god capable of such dexterity needed notto have feared the human race, though every man had had a hundred arms instead of four. All mankind, therefore, having fallen asunder at the same instant, each half was seized with consternation; but yet was so stupified by the blow that it knew not what had happened, and began to wander about by itself in an ignorant terror. After some time, however, these halves became sensible of their condition; and each perceiving that in its amazement it had wandered away from its partner, was seized with a violent desire to be reunited. The earth was covered with these imperfect creatures, running about in search of their associates. When two halves which had been one were so fortunate as to meet they threw their arms round each other, and with passionate embraces declared that they never would be separated. But most of those who did not speedily find their true partners, in horror at being alone, betook themselves to some other half. The male and female sides being equally terrified and forlorn in their sudden solitude, these wrong associations were readily and eagerly formed. When two halves happened to meet, each despairing of its former colleague, they joined themselves together after a short negotiation, with mutual caresses and vows of inseparable union. But it was soon found that a pair could not be thus joined at pleasure with any success. When the two halves which before the thunderbolt had formed one personwere restored to each other, they lived together in great harmony and happiness, endeavouring by a perfect unanimity to forget that they were no longer one; but those who had been casually united soon found cause of disagreement, and passed their lives in hatred and dispute. And when one of this unfortunate confederacy happened to meet with its true partner, involved also in a foreign compact, the desire of reunion was incontrollable; and each deserting its provisional associate, returned with delight to the former alliance.
It is easy to discover a secret memory of these events in human nature as it now is, what I have related being the true origin of love and marriage. Each man and each woman of these times is singly but half a creature, and is naturally sensible of its imperfection. In childhood we do not suspect our mutilation; but as soon as the feelings are mature, every person becomes eager to discover the other half of himself, and be reunited to it. Unfortunately, the whole human race has been so dispersed and confused together, that very few have the good fortune to find their authentic halves; but both sexes being conscious of the division they have suffered, are so impatient of solitude, that the generality of persons after a very short search are content to choose partners with which they have no affinity. Hence, a great part of the two sexes are erroneouslyjoined, which explains the number of unhappy marriages; for the law is still in force, that two halves, not belonging to each other, cannot be prosperously united, but to be happy together they must be descendants of the same double person. When any two are once made known to each other as being halves of the same person, nothing can prevent their immediate union, and any former confederacy is instantly abandoned. Thus, when a married woman, to the great astonishment of her friends, deserts her husband and her children for a stranger, the truth is that she has found her corresponding half. Thus, also, we may understand why it is that a man has so often a violent passion for some particular woman, whose charms are so far from being obvious that he is the only person who has sagacity enough to discover them. She is the half which it is the business of his life to find.
When Jupiter made this division of men, he threatened that if they gave him any farther displeasure he would make another partition, and divide every human being, already so imperfect, into two. After some time, I know not upon what provocation, he determined to execute this threat, and with the same skill as before effected a still more lamentable division, the whole human race falling asunder at the same instant. Every man found himself, he knew not why, suddenly standing on one foot. The two halves of a mangazed at each other in amazement; and each asked the other its opinion of what had happened, and of what was to follow. Each body was divided into two even shares; the nose being split exactly in the middle, and the same justice observed from head to foot. At the moment of division a new skin had grown over the parts newly exposed, so as to prevent the loss of a single drop of blood. One of these half men, therefore, putting his hand to that side of his face which had undergone the change, felt a plain flat surface. The voice, though from half a tongue, was as distinct but not so strong as before. A man had no difficulty in supporting himself, or in hopping along on his single foot; for though in the present condition of man it is a severe labour for one foot to discharge the duty of both, and convey the whole body, yet half the burden being taken away the remaining foot could make some progress without any violent exertion. Some practice, however, was required to move with sufficient speed and security; and the right side, by its superior vigour, was the first to attain a proficiency in hopping. As soon as the first consternation was over, men, supposing that their new condition was to continue, endeavoured to reconcile themselves to the being half what they had been, and to supply the loss of limbs by the exercise of what remained. Many disputes and confusions were caused by this event. A man being about to be married to a beautiful girlbefore the division took place, and one side of him in its first attempt to hop down stairs having broken its neck, the other side found itself provided with two wives by the separation of the intended bride; and as the two halves of her were equally beautiful and loved him with equal fidelity, he knew not which to choose. There was another case not less difficult to decide. A man had been betrothed to a woman of great beauty, but her left cheek was unfortunately disfigured by a scar. The two sides, therefore, being now of different value, the right side of the man claimed the perfect half, maintaining that each ought to take the part corresponding with himself; but this opinion was disputed by the left side of the man, who positively refused to accept of the blemished half.
In many cases great injustice was done by this division to one half of the human being. The brain being separated in the middle, the qualities of the mind were divided. In some instances they had been equally distributed through the head, so that each side contained a just share; but in other cases they had been differently arranged, and one half possessed all the valuable endowments. In some heads the virtues had been all on one side, and the vices collected on the other; so that one half was a man of perfect character, while the other abandoned itself to every sort of depravity. It appeared that some men, who hadbeen distinguished by wit in conversation, had been witty only on one side of the head, and that side remained as agreeable as before, while the other became extremely dull. In a public assembly, soon after this occurrence, the right side of an orator began to speak, and proceeded for some time with great volubility, but suddenly stopped in the middle of a sentence, and appeared at the end of its oratory, upon which the left side finished the sentence, and then continued the harangue to its conclusion. It seemed, therefore, that this oration had occupied the whole head, in which it lay ready for use, and had been cut into two equal parts, the left side of the orator being ignorant of the beginning and the right side of the end.