Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: GERARD DE MANDEVILLE, by ROBERT BROWNING Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Ay, this same midnight, by this chair of mine Last Line: Trustful with -- me? With thee, sage mandeville! Subject(s): Mandeville, Bernard (1670-1733) | ||||||||
I AY, this same midnight, by this chair of mine, Come and review thy counsels: art thou still Stanch to their teaching? -- not as fools opine Its purport might be, but as subtler skill Could, through turbidity, the loaded line Of logic casting, sound deep, deeper, till It touched a quietude and reached a shrine And recognized harmoniously combine Evil with good, and hailed truth's triumph -- thine, Sage dead long since, Bernard de Mandeville! II Only, 't is no fresh knowledge that I crave, Fuller truth yet, new gainings from the grave; Here we alive must needs deal fairly, turn To what account Man may Man's portion, learn Man's proper play with truth in part, before Entrusted with the whole. I ask no more Than smiling witness that I do my best With doubtful doctrine: afterwards the rest! So, silent face me while I think and speak! A full disclosure? Such would outrage law. Law deals the same with soul and body: seek Full truth my soul may, when some babe, I saw A new-born weakling, starts up strong -- not weak -- Man every whit, absolved from earning awe, Pride, rapture, if the soul attains to wreak Its will on flesh, at last can thrust, lift, draw, As mind bids muscle -- mind which long has striven, Painfully urging body's impotence To effort whereby -- once law's barrier riven, Life's rule abolished -- body might dispense With infancy's probation, straight be given -- Not by foiled darings, fond attempts back-driven, Fine faults of growth, brave sins which saint when shriven -- To stand full-statured in magnificence. III No: as with body so deals law with soul That's stung to strength through weakness, strives for good Through evil, -- earth its race-ground, heaven its goal, Presumably: so far I understood Thy teaching long ago. But what means this -- Objected by a mouth which yesterday Was magisterial in antithesis To half the truths we hold, or trust we may, Though tremblingly the while? "No sign" -- groaned he -- "No stirring of God's finger to denote He wills that right should have supremacy On earth, not wrong! How helpful could we quote But one poor instance when he interposed Promptly and surely and beyond mistake Between oppression and its victim, closed Accounts with sin for once, and bade us wake From our long dream that justice bears no sword, Or else forgets whereto its sharpness serves! So might we safely mock at what unnerves Faith now, be spared the sapping fear's increase That haply evil's strife with good shall cease Never on earth. Nay, after earth, comes peace Born out of life-long battle? Man's lip curves With scorn: there, also, what if justice swerves From dealing doom, sets free by no swift stroke Right fettered here by wrong, but leaves life's yoke -- Death should loose man from -- fresh laid, past release?" IV Bernard de Mandeville, confute for me This parlous friend who captured or set free Thunderbolts at his pleasure, yet would draw Back, panic-stricken by some puny straw Thy gold - rimmed amber - headed cane had whisked Out of his pathway if the object risked Encounter, 'scaped thy kick from buckled shoe! As when folk heard thee in old days pooh-pooh Addison's tye - wig preachment, grant this friend -- (Whose groan I hear, with guffaw at the end Disposing of mock-melancholy) -- grant His bilious mood one potion, ministrant Of homely wisdom, healthy wit! For, hear! "With power and will, let preference appear By intervention ever and aye, help good When evil's mastery is understood In some plain outrage, and triumphant wrong Tramples weak right to nothingness: nay, long Ere such sad consummation brings despair To right's adherents, ah, what help it were If wrong lay strangled in the birth -- each head Of the hatched monster promptly crushed, instead Of spared to gather venom! We require No great experience that the inch-long worm, Free of our heel, would grow to vomit fire, And one day plague the world in dragon form. So should wrong merely peep abroad to meet Wrong's due quietus, leave our world's way safe For honest walking." V Sage, once more repeat Instruction! 'T is a sore to soothe not chafe. Ah, Fabulist, what luck, could I contrive To coax from thee another "Grumbling Hive"! My friend himself wrote fables short and sweet: Ask him -- "Suppose the Gardener of Man's ground Plants for a purpose, side by side with good, Evil -- (and that he does so -- look around! What does the field show?) -- were it understood That purposely the noxious plant was found Vexing the virtuous, poison close to food, If, at first stealing-forth of life in stalk And leaflet-promise, quick his spud should balk Evil from budding foliage, bearing fruit? Such timely treatment of the offending root Might strike the simple as wise husbandry, But swift sure extirpation would scarce suit Shrewder observers. Seed once sown thrives: why Frustrate its product, miss the quality Which sower binds himself to count upon? Had seed fulfilled the destined purpose, gone Unhindered up to harvest -- what know I But proof were gained that every growth of good Sprang consequent on evil's neighborhood?" So said your shrewdness: true -- so did not say That other sort of theorists who held Mere unintelligence prepared the way For either seed's upsprouting: you repelled Their notion that both kinds could sow themselves. True! but admit 't is understanding delves And drops each germ, what else but folly thwarts The doer's settled purpose? Let the sage Concede a use to evil, though there starts Full many a burgeon thence, to disengage With thumb and finger lest it spoil the yield Too much of good's main tribute! But our main Tough - tendoned mandrake - monster -- purge the field Of him for once and all? It follows plain Who set him there to grow beholds repealed His primal law: his ordinance proves vain: And what beseems a king who cannot reign, But to drop sceptre valid arm should wield? VI "Still there's a parable" -- retorts my friend "Shows agriculture with a difference! What of the crop and weeds which solely blend Because, once planted, none may pluck them thence? The Gardener contrived thus? Vain pretence! An enemy it was who unawares Ruined the wheat by interspersing tares. Where's our desiderated forethought? Where's Knowledge, where power and will in evidence? 'T is Man's-play merely! Craft foils rectitude, Malignity defeats beneficence. And grant, at very last of all, the feud 'Twixt good and evil ends, strange thoughts intrude Though good be garnered safely, and good's foe Bundled for burning. Thoughts steal: 'Even so -- Why grant tares leave to thus o'ertop, o'ertower Their field-mate, boast the stalk and flaunt the flower, Triumph one sunny minute? Knowledge, power, And will thus worked?' Man's fancy makes the fault! Man, with the narrow mind, must cram inside His finite God's infinitude, -- earth's vault He bids comprise the heavenly far and wide, Since Man may claim a right to understand What passes understanding. So, succinct And trimly set in order, to be scanned And scrutinized, lo -- the divine lies linked Fast to the human, free to move as moves Its proper match: awhile they keep the grooves, Discreetly side by side together pace, Till sudden comes a stumble incident Likely enough to Man's weak-footed race, And he discovers -- wings in rudiment, Such as he boasts, which full-grown, free-distent Would lift him skyward, fail of flight while pent Within humanity's restricted space. Abjure each fond attempt to represent The formless, the illimitable! Trace No outline, try no hint of human face Or form or hand!" VII Friend, here's a tracing meant To help a guess at truth you never knew. Bend but those eyes now, using mind's eye too, And note -- sufficient for all purposes -- The ground-plan -- map you long have yearned for -- yes, Make out in markings -- more what artist can? -- Goethe's Estate in Weimar, -- just a plan! A is the House, and B the Garden-gate, And C the Grass-plot -- you've the whole estate Letter by letter, down to Y the Pond, And Z the Pigsty. Do you look beyond The algebraic signs, and captious say "Is A the House? But where's the Roof to A, Where's Door, where's Window? Needs must House have such!" Ay, that were folly. Why so very much More foolish than our mortal purblind way Of seeking in the symbol no mere point To guide our gaze through what were else inane, But things -- their solid selves? "Is, joint by joint, Orion man-like, -- as these dots explain His constellation? Flesh composed of suns -- How can such be?" exclaim the simple ones. Look through the sign to the thing signified -- Shown nowise, point by point at best descried, Each an orb's topmost sparkle: all beside Its shine is shadow: turn the orb one jot -- Up flies the new flash to reveal 't was not The whole sphere late flamboyant in your ken! VIII "What need of symbolizing? Fitlier men Would take on tongue mere facts -- few, faint and far, Still facts not fancies: quite enough they are, That Power, that Knowledge, and that Will, -- add then Immensity, Eternity: these jar Nowise with our permitted thought and speech. Why human attributes?" A myth may teach: Only, who better would expound it thus Must be Euripides, not AEschylus. IX Boundingly up through Night's wall dense and dark, Embattled crags and clouds, outbroke the Sun Above the conscious earth, and one by one Her heights and depths absorbed to the last spark His fluid glory, from the far fine ridge Of mountain-granite which, transformed to gold, Laughed first the thanks back, to the vale's dusk fold On fold of vapor-swathing, like a bridge Shattered beneath some giant's stamp. Night wist Her work done and betook herself in mist To marsh and hollow, there to bide her time Blindly in acquiescence. Everywhere Did earth acknowledge Sun's embrace sublime, Thrilling her to the heart of things: since there No ore ran liquid, no spar branched anew, No arrowy crystal gleamed, but straightway grew Glad through the inrush -- glad nor more nor less Than, 'neath his gaze, forest and wilderness, Hill, dale, land, sea, the whole vast stretch and spread, The universal world of creatures bred By Sun's munificence, alike gave praise -- All creatures but one only: gaze for gaze, Joyless and thankless, who -- all scowling can -- Protests against the innumerous praises? Man, Sullen and silent. Stand thou forth then, state Thy wrong, thou sole aggrieved -- disconsolate -- While every beast, bird, reptile, insect, gay And glad acknowledges the bounteous day! X Man speaks now: "What avails Sun's earth felt thrill To me? Sun penetrates the ore, the plant -- They feel and grow: perchance with subtler skill He interfuses fly, worm, brute, until Each favored object pays life's ministrant By pressing, in obedience to his will, Up to completion of the task prescribed, So stands and stays a type. Myself imbibed Such influence also, stood and stand complete -- The perfect Man, -- head, body, hands and feet, True to the pattern: but does that suffice? How of my superadded mind which needs -- Not to be, simply, but to do, and pleads For -- more than knowledge that by some device Sun quickens matter: mind is nobly fain To realize the marvel, make -- for sense As mind -- the unseen visible, condense -- Myself -- Sun's all-pervading influence So as to serve the needs of mind, explain What now perplexes. Let the oak increase His corrugated strength on strength, the palm Lift joint by joint her fan-fruit, ball and balm, -- Let the coiled serpent bask in bloated peace, -- The eagle, like some skyey derelict, Drift in the blue, suspended, glorying, -- The lion lord it by the desert-spring, -- What know or care they of the power which pricked Nothingness to perfection? I, instead, When all-developed still am found a thing All-incomplete: for what though flesh had force Transcending theirs -- hands able to unring The tightened snake's coil, eyes that could out course The eagle's soaring, voice whereat the king Of carnage couched discrowned? Mind seeks to see, Touch, understand, by mind inside of me, The outside mind -- whose quickening I attain To recognize -- I only. All in vain Would mind address itself to render plain The nature of the essence. Drag what lurks Behind the operation -- that which works Latently everywhere by outward proof -- Drag that mind forth to face mine? No! aloof I solely crave that one of all the beams Which do Sun's work in darkness, at my will Should operate -- myself for once have skill To realize the energy which streams Flooding the universe. Above, around, Beneath -- why mocks that mind my own thus found Simply of service, when the world grows dark, To half-surmise -- were Sun's use understood, I might demonstrate him supplying food, Warmth, life, no less the while? To grant one spark Myself may deal with -- make it thaw my blood And prompt my steps, were truer to the mark Of mind's requirement than a half-surmise That somehow secretly is operant, A power all matter feels, mind only tries To comprehend! Once more -- no idle vaunt 'Man comprehends the Sun's self!' Mysteries At source why probe into? Enough: display, Make demonstrable, how, by night as day, Earth's centre and sky's outspan, all's informed Equally by Sun's efflux! -- source from whence If just one spark I drew, full evidence Were mine of fire ineffably enthroned -- Sun's self made palpable to Man!" XI Thus moaned Man till Prometheus helped him, -- as we learn, -- Offered an artifice whereby he drew Sun's rays into a focus, -- plain and true, The very Sun in little: made fire burn And henceforth do Man service -- glass - conglobed Though to a pin-point circle -- all the same Comprising the Sun's self, but Sun disrobed Of that else-unconceived essential flame Borne by no naked sight. Shall mind's eye strive Achingly to companion as it may The supersubtle effluence, and contrive To follow beam and beam upon their way Hand-breadth by hand-breadth, till sense faint -- confessed Frustrate, eluded by unknown unguessed Infinitude of action? Idle quest! Rather ask aid from optics. Sense, descry The spectrum -- mind, infer immensity! Little? In little, light, warmth, life are blessed -- Which, in the large, who sees to bless? Not I More than yourself: so, good my friend, keep still Trustful with -- me? with thee, sage Mandeville! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DE GUSTIBUS' by ROBERT BROWNING A DEATH IN THE DESERT by ROBERT BROWNING A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL by ROBERT BROWNING A LOVER'S QUARREL by ROBERT BROWNING A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING A WOMAN'S LAST WORD by ROBERT BROWNING ANDREA DEL SARTO (CALLED THE FAULTLESS PAINTER) by ROBERT BROWNING APPARENT FAILURE by ROBERT BROWNING |
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