Edward Taylor, Meditation 34.5 (praise)

23 Wednesday Jun 2021

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Death, Edward Taylor, Meditation 34, Milton, poem, Poetry, Praise

Stanza Six

Death tamed, subdued, washed fair by thee! Oh grace!

Made useful thus! Thou unto thine dost say

Now Death is yours, and all it doth in’t brace.

The grave’s a down bed now made for your clay.

Oh! Happiness! How should our bells hereby 35

Ring changes, Lord, and praises trust with joy.

Summary: First there is a prayer and thanksgiving to God for death having been vanquished and turned into an agent of good. Second, there is an explication and exhortation to the reader, made by God to us, which tracks the logic of the motto 1 Cor. 3.22, “death is yours.” The explication is that death is no longer a danger but now a good. Third, Taylor speaks in his own voice, calling the reader to praise with him. Therefore, you (like me) should be praising God for this transformation.

Notes

Death tamed: Death has been brought to heel. There is a reading of Job in which Leviathan and the Behemoth are Satan and the Death. Death, rather than a dangerous beast which can act on its own, has now been “tamed”. The idea of death as a monster was already present, for instance in Paradise Lost, Satan comes upon Sin and her offspring death at the gates to Hell:

Before the gates there sat

On either side a formidable shape.

The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair,

But ended foul in many a scaly fold,

Voluminous and vast, a serpent armed

With mortal sting. About her middle round

A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked

With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung

A hideous peal; yet, when they list, would creep,

If aught disturbed their noise, into her womb,

And kennel there; yet there still barked and howled

Within unseen…

The other shape,

If shape it might be called that shape had none

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;

Or substance might be called that shadow seemed,

For each seemed either, black it stood as night,

Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell,

And shook a dreadful dart: what seemed his head

The likeness of a kingly crown had on.

Milton's Paradise Lost - Sin and Death at the Gates of Hell — William Strang, 1896, Sin and Death at the Gates of Hell

I have not been able to find a specific instance of death being said to be “tamed” in any contemporary literature. The image is quite striking.

washed fair by thee! The first two lines of this stanza are directed to the Lord who has washed Death and left it now attractive.

Thou unto thine dost say/ Now Death is yours The poet continues as the speaker, but here he changes to second person: The Lord says to us “Death is yours.” But the line is written as repetition of what he has heard. Speaking to the Lord, he says, “[Lord] thou dost say.” In this, Taylor is writing prophetically, proclaiming the word of God to the reader. This is interesting how the Puritans used the concept of prophecy and applied it to preaching: I am proclaiming the revelation of God.

and all it doth in’t brace. Everything included in death, all that it embraces (is yours).

The grave’s a down bed now made for your clay. Death is referenced as a “sleep” for believers. Thus, Paul writing to the Corinthians in chapter 15, “We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.” Your clay, you mortal body.

Oh! Happiness! How should our bells hereby

Ring changes,

At first, it is unclear who says “Happiness”, but use of “our” in the next clause identifies the speaker as Taylor to the reader: you and I should ring “our bells” for happiness.

Prosody

The most interesting rhythm is in the first line of the stanza

Death tamed, subdued, washed fair by thee!

DEATH TAMED SUBdued WASHED fair

Stanza Seven

Say I am thine, my Lord: Make me thy bell

To ring thy praise. Then death is mine indeed

A hift to grace, a spur to duty; spell 40

To fear; a frost to nip each naughty weed

A golden door to glory. Oh I’ll sing

This triumph o’er the grave! Death where’s thy sting.

Summary: The poet ends with a conditional praise: It is conditional, because it depends upon the work of the Lord as to Taylor “Say I am thine”, if this is true, then death is a blessing to me. He then prays for the existence of the poem, “Make me thy bell”: cause me to be able to praise you for the transformation of death. He then lays out benefits of death. It is ends with a song of triumph over death.

Notes:

Say I am thine, my Lord The first petition of the prayer. There is no condition in Taylor upon which to ground this petition. For instance, if you read the opening prayer in the Iliad, the priest to Apollo lays out what he has done for Apollo and then asks for Apollo to return the effort. Here, Taylor posits no grounds to be made the Lord’s.

Make me thy bell: In the sixth stanza, he calls upon the reader to ring his bell. Here, he calls upon God to make him a bell, to sing praise. As Peter writes, the end of salvation is praise of God, “that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (1 Pet. 2:9)

Then death is mine indeed: He affirms the offer of death and then proceeds to spell out how death is a benefit:

A hift to grace: “hift” is obscure. Perhaps a “help” or “gift”. The sense is clear, it is a benefit to grace.

a spur to duty: This could be, since I will not live long, I should work hard. But I think the better understanding comes from 1 Cor. 15 and the long discussion of the sureness of the resurrection for believers. Having said that death has been overcome, Paul then uses this as a basis for work: it will not be lost, “1 Corinthians 15:58 (AV)

58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.”

“If we had such a persuasion of this, we could not be so cold and careless in duty, and so bold in sin; but we have a wavering trembling assent, and some imperfect opinions about the things of God, and. not a full persuasion: 1 Cor. 15:58, ‘Therefore be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; forasmuch as you know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.’ If we did once know and were persuaded of this, if we had an evidence of things to come, and things unseen, we would be more steadfast and unmovable in the work of the Lord. If our expectations were greater, our observation of God would be greater, the business of eternal life would not be so neglected; conscience would not be so sleepy, nor should we venture upon sin so often as we do; this would put life into every exhortation you hear and read. Alas! we press and exhort day after day; it works not, why? because it is not ‘mingled with faith in them that hear it,’ Heb. 4:2. What earnest affections of soul would there be towards God and heavenly things if we did truly believe these things.” Thomas Manton, The Complete Works of Thomas Manton, vol. 13 (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1873), 370–371.

“Since your labor, says he, is not in vain in the Lord, be steadfast, and abound in good works. Now he says that their labor is not in vain, for this reason, that there is a reward laid up for them with God. This is that exclusive hope which, in the first instance, encourages believers, and afterwards sustains them, so that they do not stop short in the race. Hence he exhorts them to remain steadfast, because they rest on a firm foundation, as they know that a better life is prepared for them in heaven.” John Calvin, 1 Corinthians, electronic ed., Calvin’s Commentaries (Albany, OR: Ages Software, 1998), 1 Co 15:58.

Spell/ to fear: All fears ultimately rest upon the fear of death. Since death has been quelled, the basis for fear is dispelled. A spell, it means to ward off fear.

a frost to nip each naughty weed: Recalling that all things will be brought into judgment (1 Cor. 3:13) And, grace, as Barth will write centuries after Taylor, tears up sin by the roots. It is his kindness that leads us to repentance. Rom. 2:4.

A golden door to glory. Rather than leading us to death, death leads us to glory.

Oh I’ll sing

This triumph o’er the grave! Death where’s thy sting.

This first is a near quotation to 1 Cor. 15:54-57, “So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. 55 O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 56 The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Edward Taylor, Meditation 34.4 (painting death)

21 Monday Jun 2021

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Death, Edward Taylor, image, Meditation 34, poem, Poetry

Stanza Five

The painter lies who pencils death’s face grim 25

With white bare butter teeth, bare staring bones,

With empty eyeholes, ghostly looks which fling

Such dread to see as raiseth deadly groans,

For thou hast farely washed death’s grim grim face

And made his chilly finger-ends drop grace.

Summary: The commonplace image of death was (and often is) as a death’s head, a bare grinning skull. To see the image is to cause fear. But now that God has reworked the nature of death it is wrong to represent death in that manner. God has washed Death’s face and now those skeleton fingers “drop grace.”

Notes

The painter lies who pencils death’s face: This opens the address of the stanza. It is a “lie” to paint death as a fearsome skeleton. The why this is false will explained in the couplet at the end.

This style of representing death had long been a commonplace.

ghostly looks which fling / Such dread This is an interesting way to explain the effect of the artwork. The dread is in the painting. It is then flung into the eyes of the viewer.

Such dread to see as raiseth deadly groans The dread inspired in the viewer is broadcast as “deadly groans”. Thus, we have an interesting movement of the dread: from the painting, into the eyes of the viewer, from the mouth of the viewer and presumably to yet another.

For thou hast farely washed death’s grim grim face

And made his chilly finger-ends drop grace.

The “thou” would be the “Lord” of the first line in the poem. From speaker generally concerning the representation of Death, the poet turns to the Lord and addresses him. The Lord has “washed” death’s “grim grim face” and has forced death to be a means of grace “made his chilly fingers”.

Prosody:

This stanza contains a great deal of alliteration.

Line 25: Painter – pencil

Line 26, B: bare, butter, bare, bones

Lines 25, 28, 29, 30: death, dread, deadly [a near rhyme within the line], death, drop

Lines 27: assonance: empty eyeholes

Lines 25, 28, 29, 30: grim, groans, grim, grim, grace. This progression in sound marks the progression in arguments: grim, groaning death becomes grace.

The painter lies who pencils death’s face grim. 25

With white bare butter teeth, bare staring bones,

With empty eyeholes, ghostly looks which fling

Such dread to see as raiseth deadly groans,

For thou hast farely washed death’s grim grim face

And made his chilly finger-ends drop grace.

Edward Taylor, Meditation 34.3 (the transmutation of death)

18 Friday Jun 2021

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Death, Edward Taylor, Meditation 34, poem, Poetry, Puritan Poetry

Stanza Four

And still thou by the gracious chemistry
Dost of his carcass cordials make rich, high, 20
To free from Death makest death a remedy:
A curb to sin, a spur to piety.
Heaven’s brightsome light shines out in Death’s dark cave.
The golden door of glory is the grave.

Summary: The body of Christ is made into a medicine. Death itself is transformed into a good thing: rather than being a final tomb, it is a golden door to glory.

Notes:

Taylor’s concepts and imagery are quite consistent and easy to find in his contemporaries. Indeed, the contemporaries provide excellent comment on his meaning in these short lines.

Thou …his: The poet seems to be directly addressing God. The first line of the poem is addressed to “Lord.” But here there is a distinction being made between God and Christ. This is the place where Christian theology can become extraordinarily stretching. God is tri-personal, a tri-unity. Christ is God and man: two natures, one person. Thus, God who cannot die and man who must die meet in an extraordinary manner.

Gracious chemistry: the concept of alchemy and chemistry are not necessarily well-distinguished at this time. A fundamental goal of alchemy was the transmutation of lead to gold. Here, God performs a transmutation of turning death into a means of life. There are two transformations: the carcass of Christ is made into a “cordial”, i.e., a medicine. Second, death is made into a “remedy”.

To free from Death: Death is referred to as a sovereign:

For death (in which the Bridegroom first cometh to us) is, in itself, “the king of terrors:” other afflictions—as poverty, reproach, imprisonment, debt, exile, sickness, &c.—are inferior fears, which possibly may be escaped, and out of which there is oftentimes deliverance; but death is the sovereign lord and king of all of them, from whence there is no return. He that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more, but passeth presently unto the highest tribunal, there to receive the eternal judgment, whether of absolution or of condemnation.

James Nichols, Puritan Sermons, vol. 2 (Wheaton, IL: Richard Owen Roberts, Publishers, 1981), 684–685. This has it basis in Hebrews 2:14-15 and in Romans 5:14, “Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses.” Thomas Boston has a striking use of this concept:

Death reigns among them. See where they sit, Matth. 4:16. ‘In the region and shadow of death.’ The whole society are a parcel of condemned criminals, John 3:18 that know not how soon the sentence shall be executed upon them; their father the devil ready to be the executioner; they are all in a dying condition, their souls have got their death’s wounds, and they are pining away in their iniquity, while in the meantime their eyes are held that they cannot see the preciousness of the Physician. Nay, they are dead already in a spiritual sense; God, the life of the soul, is departed far from them. O! why will ye stay in the congregation of the dead? Come out from among them to the Lord of life.

Thomas Boston, The Whole Works of Thomas Boston: An Illustration of the Doctrines of the Christian Religion, Part 1, ed. Samuel M‘Millan, vol. 1 (Aberdeen: George and Robert King, 1848), 650.

makest death a remedy: Now rather than being a means of condemnation and loss of God, death has been transformed into a means of good. Taylor names three:

A curb to sin, Thomas Boston explicates this concept:

Consider ye must die: Heb. 9:27, “It is appointed unto men once to die.” Death is certain, and therefore repentance is necessary. O if men would realize death to themselves, sinners would soon find it necessary to turn a new leaf. One hearing Gen. 5. read in the church, was so impressed with the thoughts of death, that he presently betook himself to a new course of life, that he might die well. We must all meet with death, lie down in the grave; let us view it aforehand, and see how it calls us to repent. Look to thy dying hour, and to thy grave, O impenitent sinner, and consider these few things.

Wouldst thou be content to die as thou livest? Thou livest in thy sin, without God; wouldst thou desire to die so? Many indeed entertain Balaam’s wish, for the death of the righteous, while they care not for their life, Num. 23:10, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” But remember he did not get it, chap. 31:8, “Balaam also the son of Beor they slew with the sword.” And while death is so uncertain, it is the hanging of an eternal weight on a hair, to look to get matters mended then, that are not mended now.
Consider, what will a sinful life look like on a death-bed? How will ye be able to look your unrepented-of guilt, and a long eternity in the face together? Ezek. 22:14, “Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong in the days that I shall deal with thee? I the Lord have spoken it, and will do it.” Sin sits easy now on a sleepy conscience, while health and strength lasts, and death appears not. But when death stares thee in the face, and the awakened conscience flies upon thee, it will cut thee to the heart, that thou hast not repented before.
What will it be to die, and go to another world with a load of unrepented-of guilt on thy back? Look to your grave aforehand; think with yourselves, how will it be to lie down there with your bones full of your iniquity? Is it not best now, to shake off and east away your transgressions, as knowing that however ye may live with them, ye cannot die with them well.
At a dying hour ye must part with the world, and the enjoyment of your lusts. The foul feast ye sit at now, death will overthrow the table, and the sad reckoning for it comes in then, and continues for ever. O rise up now, and leave it by repentance. Part with these things at God’s call, which ye must part with ere long, whether ye will or not.

Thomas Boston, The Whole Works of Thomas Boston: Sermons and Discourses on Several Important Subjects in Divinity, ed. Samuel M‘Millan, vol. 6 (Aberdeen: George and Robert King, 1849), 434–435.

a spur to piety. Richard Baxter wrote an entire book on the subject published by Banner of Truth as Dying Thoughts. Just as the thought of death drives one to repentance, contemplating death teaches us to prepare for another world. Thomas Brooks (referencing also the King of Terrors):

Look, as a crucified Christ hath taken away the guilt of sin, though he hath not taken away sin itself, so he hath taken away the sting of death, though he hath not taken away death itself. He spake excellently that said, ‘That is not death, but life, which joins the dying man to Christ; and that is not life, but death, which separates the living man from Christ.’5 Austin longed to die, that he might see that head that was crowned with thorns. ‘Did Christ die for me,’ saith one, ‘that I might live with him? I will not, therefore, desire to live long from him.’ All men go willingly to see him whom they love, and shall I be unwilling to die that I may see him whom my soul loves? Bernard would have us never to let go out of our minds the thoughts of a crucified Christ. Let these, says he, be meat and drink unto you, let them be your sweetness and consolation, your honey and your desire, your reading and your meditation, your contemplation, your life, death, and resurrection. Certainly he that shall live up to this counsel will look upon the king of terrors as the king of desires.

Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 5 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1867), 215.

The golden door of glory is the grave. Thomas Brooks uses quite similar imagery. As he explains:

Eighteenth place, Death is nothing but the believer’s inlet into glory. Death is the gate of life, it is the gate of paradise; it is the midwife to bring eternity to bed. When Jacob saw the chariots that were to bring him to Joseph, his spirit revived, Gen. 45:27. Ah, Christian! death is that chariot that will bring thee not only to a sight of Jacob and Joseph, but also to a blessed sight of God, Christ, angels and ‘the spirits of just men made perfect, Heb. 12:23, 24. Here we meet with many inlets to sin, to sorrow, to affliction, to temptation; but death, of all inlets, is the most happy inlet; it lets the soul into a full fruition of God, to the perfection of grace, and to the heights of glory; and why, then, should a gracious soul be unwilling to die?

Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 1 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1866), 461–462.

Edward Taylor, Meditation 34.2 (The King of Terrors)

17 Thursday Jun 2021

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1 Corinthians, Death, Defeat of Death, Edward Taylor, Job, King of Glory, King of Terrors, Literature, poem, Poetry, Puritan Poetry

Third Stanza

Poor wretched man Death’s captive stood full chuff
But thou my gracious Lord didst find relief
Thou King of Glory didst, to handy cuff
With King of Terrors and dashed out his teeth, 15
Pluckest out his sting, his poison quellest, his head
To pieces breakest. Hence cruel death lies dead.

Summary: Having passed his introduction, the poet turns to the explanation of his motto, “Death is yours.” The movement is clear: Humanity was under the sway of Death without escape. God found a way to defeat death. Death is now dead.

Notes

The motto:

“Death is yours.” This needs some explanation. The verse cited, in context reads,

1 Corinthians 3:18–23 (AV)
18 Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise. 19 For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, He taketh the wise in their own craftiness. 20 And again, The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise, that they are vain.
21 Therefore let no man glory in men. For all things are yours; 22 Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; 23 And ye are Christ’s; and Christ is God’s.

The people of Corinth were playing favorites and counting themselves as part of a faction of Paul o Apollos or Cephas (Peter). Such factions are wisdom of the world. And why would claim only Paul or Apollos?

“This turns their slogans completely on their head, with the significant difference that the pronoun is plural, not singular. Thus, they may not say “I belong to Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas,” not only because that is to boast in mere men, but because that is the precise opposite of reality in Christ. In him, as Eph. 1 will say in lofty cadences, God has begun what he will eventually bring to full consummation, namely “to bring all things in heaven and earth under one head, even Christ” (Eph. 1:10); therefore, all things are yours (plural).” Gordon D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1987), 153.

The personification of death:Death is here presented as a monster which God defeats: Death has “capatives”; therefore, Death has the capacity to make captive. Death is the “King of Terrors.” Death has teeth, a sting, poison, and a head. Death has also been killed.

Death holding captives:

This comes from Hebrews 2:14–15, “14 Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; 15 And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” (AV) Here is specifically the “fear of death” which is used to hold us captive.

The Defeat of Death

The primary allusion for this stanza comes from 1 Corinthians 15:54-57, where Paul writes that due to the Resurrection of Jesus, the power of death has been destroyed. Taylor takes much of his imagery from this passage: “54 So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. 55 O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 56 The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (AV)

The breaking of death’s head comes from Genesis 3:15, “15 And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.”

chuff: here morose, sullen. “full chuff”, does he mean “despair”?

Handy cuff: struck with a hand

Dashed out his teeth
This seems to be an allusion to Psalm 3:7 “7 Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly.” (AV)

King of Terrors This comes from Job 18:14, speaking of one being brought to death as a judgment, “14 His confidence shall be rooted out of his tabernacle, and it shall bring him to the king of terrors.” (AV).
This was understood as a reference to death, “Death is of all terribles the most terrible, and is therefore called the king of terrors. But those who have taken God in Christ for their refuge, have what may comfort and establish them, even in that case. Even from the last enemy God it a refuge.” Thomas Boston, The Whole Works of Thomas Boston: A Soliloquy on the Art of Man-Fishing, ed. Samuel M‘Millan, vol. 5 (Aberdeen: George and Robert King, 1849), 66.

Rutherford used the image with the idea of ruling over men, “By one man’s offence, there was a cruel king, death the king of terrors, who hath a black sceptre, set over all and every man without exception.” Samuel Rutherford, Christ Dying, and Drawing Sinners to Himself (Glasgow: Samuel and Archibald Gardner; Niven, Napier & Khull, 1803), 501.

In this sermon by Matthew Sylvester, we see very similar thoughts and imagery to that used by Taylor: “DIRECTION I. Be thoroughly persuaded of, and heartily affected with, a life to come. (2 Cor. 4:17, 18.)—This is the “poise” and pondus of religion; (Heb. 11:6;) this is the heart and strength of godliness. (Acts 24:14, 15, 25.) It is this that strips that king of terrors, death, of all his frightful looks and strength; this spoils his fatal conquest, gripe, and sting. (2 Tim. 4:6–8; 2 Cor. 5:1–10; 1 Cor. 15:51–58.)”. James Nichols, Puritan Sermons, vol. 2 (Wheaton, IL: Richard Owen Roberts, Publishers, 1981), 659.

The phrase itself was remarkably common in Puritan writing, whether Public (such as Sylvester’s sermon) or in private correspondence such as this by Thomas Brooks, “Now you should always look upon death under scripture notions, and this will take off the terror of death; yea, it will make the king of terrors to be the king of desires; it will make you not only willing to die, but even long to die, and to cry out, ‘Oh that I had the wings of a dove, to fly away, and be at rest!’ At death you shall have an eternal jubilee, and be freed from all incumbrances. Now sin shall be no more, nor trouble shall be no more, nor pain nor ailments shall be no more.” Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 5 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1867), 454–455.

King of Glory: This is an allusion to Psalm: 8–10 “8 Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. 9 Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. 10 Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah.” The allusion is quite apt, because the original is a reference to Jesus’ Ascension where he enters having defeated death:

“When Christ ascends into heaven after his sore conflict with his enemies and his glorious victory over them, wherein he appeared to be “the Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle” [v. 8], and the word was proclaimed to the gates and doors of that everlasting temple of God, that they should be lift up, that the King of glory may come in, the heavenly hosts are represented as inquiring with wonder and great admiration, “Who is this King of glory?”, as being in their eyes a very wonderful person, and one that had done very wonderful things, as though some very new thing appeared, a remarkable person coming, appearing in such wise as never had been before, a person that appeared with very wonderful glory, and such an one as that it was wonderful that one, with those things that had appeared in him of late and now appeared, should have the title of “the King of glory,” as though it was admirable that such glory should be united with those other things that appeared in this person, which yet it most plainly appeared there had, that appeared in him, by which he appears sufficiently to merit the character of the King of glory, viz. his appearing so strong and mighty in battle, as he had done, and gaining such a glorious victory, as he had done. And therefore it is answered, “The Lord strong and mighty,” etc. [v. 8].” Jonathan Edwards, Notes on Scripture, ed. Harry S. Stout and Stephen J. Stein, vol. 15, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (London; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 282.

The Defeat of Death:

Christ before his death had been combating with the powers of darkness and all the subordinate instruments. Death was Satan’s beast of prey that was set upon him; but our Lord foiled it in its own dungeon. The battle between Christ and death was begun upon the cross; he grappled with it there, and they went tugging and wrestling to the grave. Christ, like a prudent warrior, carried the war into his enemy’s country, and there got loose of the grasp of death, foiled it in its own territory. He arose, and left death gasping behind him; so that the quality of the grave is quite altered. Before it was a prison, Satan’s dungeon; now it is a chamber of repose, a bed of ease, ever since Christ slept there.

Thomas Manton, “The Saints Triumph Over Death,” The Complete Works of Thomas Manton, vol. 2 (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1871), 445

And is it much ‘far better’ to die, that we may be with Christ, than to live here a conflicting life? Why should we then fear death, that is but a passage to Christ? It is but a grim sergeant that lets us into a glorious palace, that strikes off our bolts, that takes off our rags, that we may be clothed with better robes, that ends all our misery, and is the beginning of all our happiness. Why should we therefore be afraid of death? it is but a departure to a better condition? It is but as Jordan to the children of Israel, by which they passed to Canaan. It is but as the Red Sea by which they were going that way. Therefore we have no reason to fear death. Of itself it is an enemy indeed, but now it is harmless, nay, now it is become a friend, amicable to us, a sweet friend. It is one part of the church’s jointure, death. ‘All things are yours,’ saith the apostle, Paul and Apollos, ‘life and death,’ 1 Cor. 3:22. Death is ours and for our good. It doth us more good than all the friends we have in the world. It determines and ends all our misery and sin; and it is the suburbs of heaven. It lets us into those joys above.

Richard Sibbes, The Complete Works of Richard Sibbes, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 1 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; W. Robertson, 1862), 340.

Death lies dead: I don’t know if he means an allusion here to either Donne’s “Death thou shalt die” or Owens’ “The Death of Death in the Death of Christ.”

Prosody:

The first line is hard to scan. The effect depends upon how one takes the word “poor” at the beginning. It could read solemnly, “POOR WRETched MAN,” with a heavy accent on “poor.” But one could read the line Poor filling in like a connective word introducing the topic.

The interesting effects are in lines 15-18:

With King of Terrors and dashed out his teeth, 15
Pluckest out his sting, his poison quellest, his head
To pieces breakest. Hence cruel death lies dead.

There is no way to force these lines into smooth iambs. The pause in line 15 between TERrors – and makes for a run up to DASHED OUT his TEETH. Perphas Taylor had a cheat syllable of DASH-ed to create iambs.

Line 16 I scan:

PLUCKest OUT his STING, his POIson QUELLest, his HEAD – an enjambment: which creates some movement to line 17

Line 17

to PIEces BREAKest.

We get a long pause before when come to the conclusion of death’s death.

The strong initial consonsants:

With King of Terrors and dashed out his teeth, 15
Pluckest out his sting, his poison quellest, his head
To pieces breakest. Hence cruel death lies dead.

Dylan Thomas, To Be Encompassed by the Brilliant Earth

08 Thursday Apr 2021

Posted by memoirandremains in Dylan Thomas, Uncategorized

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Death, Dylan Thomas, Literature, Lust, poem, Poetry, Spider, To be encompassed by the brilliant earth

To be encompassed by the brilliant earth

Breathing on all sides pungently

Into her vegetation’s lapping mouths

Must feel like such encroachment

As edges off your nerves to mine,

The hemming contact that’s so trammelled

By love or look,

In death or out of death,

Glancing from the yellow nut,

Eyeing from the wax’s tower,

Or, white as milk, out of the seeping dark,

The drooping as you close me in

A world of webs

I touch and break,

I touch and break.

This is a horrifying poem in many ways. Although written from a profoundly pagan point of view (that life is a sort of force which of its own runs through all living things and our life is ultimately impersonal and not our own), the moral of the poem is as critical of lust as the most passionate turn or burn preacher.

The poem begins with a phrase which may be an imagining which may be a wish or a fear.

To be encompassed by the brilliant earth.

I hope to be, I fear to be, I may be; I am fascinated by, or I am in terror of, this encompassing. The use of the verb “encompassed” provides the ambiguity. For instance, if we change the verb to “buried” or “crushed,” we could easily see the negative. If we read “blanketed” of “cradled,” we could see this as a good. But encompassed denotes a state without providing a connotation to relieve the ambiguity.

Moreover, there is an ambiguity as to whether the poet considers his own, another’s, or the abstracted idea, of the state of encompassing.

The phrase the brilliant earth is one of the paradoxical turns one finds in Dylan. The earth by nature is not “brilliant”: it does exhibit light. There are a few ways we could take this phrase.

The easiest way to “understand” the phrase would be to reject it as nonsense. If we were to find this phrase in a textbook on dirt we would have to think of the phrase as somehow in error.

However, since we are reading a work of creative literature, and a poem by Dylan Thomas in particular, we charitably consider this as a deliberately paradoxical phrase; perhaps along the lines of a Zen koan. If this phrase is not to be taken as a deliberate contradiction nor a “literal” description of glowing dirt, what could Dylan’s point be?

It might be there is a sort of “brilliance” in the earth which is not immediately the subject of apprehension. It might be a metaphorical brilliance: The earth is living or active in some sense and exudes something which could be described as “brilliant”. It might be a reference to the effect upon the poet: somehow the earth has made in me the sensation that the earth is brilliant.

We could also conclude that “earth” has reference which is not precisely inert dirt in the field. What this reference could be is unclear at this point.

Of course, the metaphorical use could entail both elements.

And thus at the end of the first line, we are in a state of necessary ambivalence.

The line scans as follows:

to BE encompassed [pause] by the BRILLiant EARTH

The two halves of the line are held together by the alliteration of “B” on either side of the pause: Be Brilliant

The second line

Breathing on all sides pungently

This line connects to the prior line as follows:

The “B” of “Breathing. This point is emphasized by the accent on the first syllable.

The entire line also functions as an appositive to the “brilliant earth”: The “brilliant earth [is] breathing.”

The description of the earth “breathing” complicates the problem of the first line in describing earth. So we now know the earth is “brilliant” and “breathes”. How this could be so is not yet clear. But by the addition of “breathing” tells us that somehow the earth is alive. The brilliance is just glowing dirt: this living entity.

The prepositional phrase, “on all sides” complements “encompassing”. This does not answer who is encompassed by the earth (the poet or another).

Someone is now on all sides experiencing a living, breathing earth. Moreover, this experience is intimate: the earth is close enough, one can experience this “pungent” breathing.

Into her vegetation’s lapping mouths

Where does the vegetation have a mouth? Does the earth breathe into the roots or the leaves?

This also changes the tenor of the adverb “pungently”. Rather than emphasizing the earth’s bad breath, it seems to emphasize the pointedness of the earth’s action.

The vegetation is pictured as an animal lapping at the water: but here, rather than water it is the breathing earth.

At this point, the poem takes a dramatic turn:

Must feel like such encroachment

As edges off your nerves to mine,

The relationship between the mouths and the breathing earth is pictured as an “encroachment”: it is a forcible entrance, or a least an unwelcomed entrance.

At this point, the metaphorical language of a brilliant, breathing earth becomes another step removed from experience: the earth and the plants mouths are not “your nerves to mine”.

The first clause, “as edges off” modifies the “encroachment”.

We have now moved from actual plants and earth to the poet and someone else. Precisely what is taking place here is not exactly clear, but the relationship between this poet and, we can presume at this point, a lover is extraordinarily intimate.

This also raises a theme which runs through other poems by Thomas such as

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

Drives my green age

This concept of there being a continuous correlation between the life of plants and nature and his own life. Because of this theme, it is perhaps wrong to understand the current poem (To be encompassed ….) is not using the language of earth and plants as merely a conceit: a metaphor to dress-up the relationship between the poet and lover, but rather to express something which Thomas contends is inherent in the relationship.

He is pointing out something which is intimate, but also (he sees) as impersonal. Walt Whitman makes a similar argument in Song of Myself:

Urge and urge and urge,

Always the procreant urge of the world.

It is as if Thomas is speaking to her and removing the personal him and her from the equation and contending for a deeply impersonal intimacy. He even describes this intimacy as something which “love” or “look” (there knowledge and notice of one-another) as trammeling upon the intimacy:

The hemming contact that’s so trammelled

By love or look,

The contact is not profound, rather it is “hemmed.” The intimacy of the two is the intimacy of plants in the soil. It is not even animalistic, but rather vegetable. It does not sound passionate or even desirable: breath is pungent, the intimacy an encroachment. The brilliant earth thus comes back not as a joyous brilliance but rather a description of energy: as if life were a thing like gravity which just acted without personality.

The trammeling is further explicated in these lines:

In death or out of death,

Glancing from the yellow nut,

Eyeing from the wax’s tower,

Or, white as milk, out of the seeping dark,

The exact references of these lines are unclear to me. The first line “In death or out of death” make sense, because this force is not something confined to persons, but a force which courses through nature with or without Thomas’s existence.

I can’t make out the “yellow nut,” unless it is some reference to birth in the way that a wax tower which would melt with heat is a reference to death. That life-death-life movement would make sense of nut and wax, and then white seeping from dark: a force of life which moves through opposites and moves through people without any person being their own life.

USA, TX, Bandera Co.: Bandera Hill Country State Natural Area 9-iv-2016

The poem ends with this horrifying lines:

The drooping as you close me in

A world of webs

I touch and break,

I touch and break.

The lover’s closeness is “drooping” she closes in on him in a manner which he describes as “a world of webs”. This intimacy is no loving relationship, rather it is a black widow coming into the kill the male with whom she mates. This moment of procreation will he is death:

“I touch and break.”

To touch her is to be destroyed.

This moment of dispassionate lust, a lust which is independent of either the poet or the woman, results in profound disillusionment. It something forced upon them both, something which love or true intimacy can only ‘trammel’ upon. They are forced into this “encroachment” which overwhelms them. In the end, she comes to him as a spider who destroys him as soon as she touches him.

Thomas decidedly does not call this lust “sin”: sin would be too volitional an understanding. But the result of this lust is certainly death.

This then leads us back to the first line of the poem: On the first run through, one lover encompassing the other is the “brilliant earth”. The brilliant earth is the human being made of earth and animated by the “green force”. But here at the end, we return to the earth and now it is a tomb: he has been buried. The procreative act is also the entombing action. Life runs through the human, running the puppet from life to death to life and so on.

So I hated life

Because what is done under the sun is grievous to me

For all is vanity

And a striving after wind.

Eccl. 2:17

Schopenhauer on Happiness.7 Unembellished Existence

04 Tuesday Feb 2020

Posted by memoirandremains in Happiness, Philosophy, Psychology, Uncategorized

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anxiety, Arthur Schopenhauer, Death, Happiness, Schopenhauer, Terror Management Theory

This is an interesting bit of argumentation and slight of hand:

It is only after a man has got rid of all pretension, and taken refuge in mere unembellished existence, that he is able to attain that peace of mind which is the foundation of human happiness. Peace of mind! that is something

Consider the argument:

If I rid myself of X & take Y, then I’ll get Z

Z is the foundation of human happiness.

Z is wonderful.

The force of the argument is the weight it puts on Z, “peace of mind”. Peace of mind is truly a good thing. The slight of hand takes place in the logical movement from the conditions to the conclusion: Is there really any logical connection?

First, “It is only after a man has got rid of all pretension”. What is the pretension according to Schopenhauer: that the world is meaningful; that there is any providence in this world. You can only have peace of mind if you realize that your life is meaningless.

The argument is attractive because it makes one sound rational and brave. But we need to stop at that the matter of rationality. What does rationality even mean if the universe is meaningless? Reason can’t have any “real” ground: it is simply an assertion. If the universe is irrational, how then I can assert rationality? Rationality is simply an assertion, a trick of language. How do we say a thing is “true”, if there is no meaning.

Here is the point: Schopenhauer needs rationality and reason and meaning to even begin to assert that the universe is meaningless. I recall reading in Buddhist literature years ago about the need to speak and not speak: the sound of one hand clapping. The assertions of meaningless and ultimate insubstantiality of existence mean that one must speak and then not speak of such things. While there is a remarkable difficulty in the Buddhist position, it is at least honest.

Schopenhauer’s position, I would assert, is incoherent.

What then is the psychological connection between the insistent conclusion that the world is irrational and meaningless, and that I am incoherent, with peace of mind. Wouldn’t such an assertion be anxiety producing?

Moreover, if one considers terror management theory, the assertion that fear of death requires one to raise some sort of psychological defense in order to ward off the anxiety of approaching death; then one would assert that some sort of unvarnished I’m going to die and life is meaningless position would not produce peace.

We can see that Schopenhauer then quickly moves to a position of reason and order:

Limitations always make for happiness. We are happy in proportion as our range of vision, our sphere of work, our points of contact with the world, are restricted and circumscribed.

And:

Simplicity, therefore, as far as it can be attained, and even monotony, in our manner of life, if it does not mean that we are bored, will contribute to happiness; just because, under such circumstances, life, and consequently the burden which is the essential concomitant of life, will be least felt.

What these positions reduce to, psychologically, is that avoiding circumstances which have the potential of producing anxiety helps one to feel better. Ignoring problems which cannot be resolved is an obvious means of reducing anxiety – but what this has to do with the underlying assertion that life is meaningless is difficult to understand.

Shakespeare Sonnet 7 (Notes)

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by memoirandremains in Literature, Shakespeare, Uncategorized

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Beauty, Death, Phaeton, poem, Poetry, Shakespeare, Shakespeare Sonnet 7, Sonnet, Sun

Johann_Liss_006

The fall of Phaethon, Johann Liss,

[1] Lo, in the orient when the gracious light

[2] Lifts up his burning head, each under eye

[3] Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,

[4] Serving with looks his sacred majesty;

[5] And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,

[6] Resembling strong youth in his middle age,

[7] Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,

[8] Attending on his golden pilgrimage.

[9] But when from highmost pitch with weary car

[10] Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,

[11] The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are

[12] From his low tract and look another way.

[13] So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,

[14] Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.

This sonnet develops a central metaphor of the sun’s progress across the sky, which each successive stanza taking a different part of the day: morning, noon, afternoon. The progress of the sun is used a proxy for the progress of one’s life. At the end, the sun sets and life ends. From this metaphor, Shakespeare draws a conclusion, you will be like the sun after it has set if you do not have a son.

First Stanza

[1] Lo, in the orient when the gracious light

[2] Lifts up his burning head, each under eye

[3] Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,

[4] Serving with looks his sacred majesty;

The sun is developed in metaphoric language. In fact, Shakespeare never uses the

“sun” in the poem, apparently as a set up for the use of the word “son” in the final line.

The poem begins with “Lo” – Look! The rising sun draws all attention.

The sun rises in the “orient”, not the east. The orient, in Shakespeare time, was the land of magnificent treasure,

He kissed—the last of many doubled kisses—

(FTLN 0557) [47] This orient pearl.

Antony and Cleopatra Act I, Scene

After this, he was taken out of his chaire of Majestie, having upon him an upper robe adorned with precious stones of all sorts, orient pearles of great quantitie, but alwayes augmented in riches: it was in waight two hundred pounds, the traine, and parts thereof borne up by 6. Dukes, his chiefe imperiall Crowne upon his head very precious:

Richard Hakluyt, The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of the English Nation Made by Sea or Overland to the Remote & Farthest Distant Quarters of the Earth at Any Time within the Compasse of These 1600 Yeares, vol. 2 (Medford, MA: E. P. Dutton & Co., n.d.), 271.

The sun gives a “gracious light” and “Lifts up his burning head”. The sun is a colossus which rises over the landscape. His light is gracious – he is a king. And the response is the response to a king:

each under eye

[3] Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,

[4] Serving with looks his sacred majesty

All pay “homage” and do so by looking upon the “sacred majesty”.

Second Stanza

[5] And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,

[6] Resembling strong youth in his middle age,

[7] Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,

[8] Attending on his golden pilgrimage.

The second stanza develops the image of the sun. He shows his strength by climginb up the “steep” “heavenly hill” of the sky. He power is such that even in middle age he has the beauty of youth. And he continues to receive homage by “mortal looks” which now “adore his beauty still”.

He progress is a “golden pilgrimage” which the mortals “attend” to.

Third Stanza

[9] But when from highmost pitch with weary car

[10] Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,

[11] The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are

[12] From his low tract and look another way.

At this point, the imagery of the sun shifts in two ways. First, it concerns the sun’s decline. Second, the sun is no longer climbing himself but now is in a car; which reminds us of Phaethon who attempted to drive the chariot of the sun but veered wildly out of control and brought the sun too near the earth.

Shakespeare does not make that precise point, but does allude to one who is too weak to control the sun.

But when from highmost pitch with weary car

[10] Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,

At the height of trip, the sun in weakness: weary car, feeble age, reelth, loses control and the sun falls from the sky. Seemingly in the height of power, the sun is actually grown week.

And the response of the mortals is no longer to look but now to look-away:

[11] The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are

[12] From his low tract and look another way.

The language of homage and adoration, part kingly, part religious returns. The eyes no longer perform “duty” (like a subject). The mortals are “now converted.” With the swings in Shakespeare’s day between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism would have shown many “conversions”, thus, the language would have resonance.

The moral is obvious: you are beautiful now, but soon you will be weakened, your beauty gone – you will be like the falling sun where all look away.

Couplet

[13] So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,

[14] Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.

The metaphor is drawn tight: you are like the sun. Yes you are at noon, but noon does not last. Everyone will look away from you in your age and weakness, “unless thou get a son”. The use of the “son” in the last syllable is purposeful, because he has studiously avoided the word “sun” throughout the poem.

You will fail like a failing “sun” unless you get a “son” – who himself be a new “sun.”

Shakespeare Sonnet 1

26 Friday Jul 2019

Posted by memoirandremains in Literature, Shakespeare, Uncategorized

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Beauty, Death, Edward De Vere, Golden Age, History, poem, Poetry, Shakespeare, Sonnet

Sonnets1609titlepage

[1] From fairest creatures we desire increase,

[2] That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,

[3] But, as the riper should by time decease,

[4] His tender heir might bear his memory.

[5] But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

[6] Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,

[7] Making a famine where abundance lies,

[8] Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

[9] Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament

[10] And only herald to the gaudy spring

[11] Within thine own bud buriest thy content

[12] And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.

[13] Pity the world, or else this glutton be—

[14] To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

The sonnet fits perfectly into three quatrains and a couplet. The argument fits into the form with the first line of each quatrain a topic sentence and the couplet a conclusion.

The poem is a request that the recipient of the poem (a person of endless speculation) would have children. By having children you achieve a kind of immorality and bless the world. But selfishness is a gluttony where you spend yourself upon yourself in death.

The first stanza sets out the primary argument of the poem: have children! Shakespeare gives two reasons: It is a good to the world for the best to have children; and, it is a good to you to have one who carries on your memory:

[1] From fairest creatures we desire increase,

[2] That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,

[3] But, as the riper should by time decease,

[4] His tender heir might bear his memory.

The argument skillfully weaves the two argument into one.

The Perpetuation of Beauty

The first argument appears in lines 1-2.

[1] From fairest creatures we desire increase,

[2] That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,

There are two elements to this argument: (a) origin, and (b) desire.

Origin of Beauty

This argument would be easily missed, because it is a concept so foreign to our “modern is best” understanding. We are anxious over the newest; we think the present is best and the future is better. We have a Hegelian progress of history (I don’t mean in some technical Hegelian manner, but as a general understanding) in which the present is better than the past.

This understandings of the progress of history is precisely the opposite of pre-Hegelian forebears. The earth at the first was pristine: It was best at first. This concept appears worldview which would have been available to Shakespeare. First, the Bible begins with the Garden of Eden. The original world was pristine. But world was altered, through the Fall of Adam into sin; and then, through the devastation of the Flood.

Second, classical mythology understands the history of the world to have progressed through a series of ages beginning with the Golden Age:

First of all [110] the deathless gods who dwell on Olympus made a golden race of mortal men who lived in the time of Cronos when he was reigning in heaven. And they lived like gods [115] without sorrow of heart, remote and free from toil and grief: miserable age rested not on them; but with legs and arms never failing they made merry with feasting beyond the reach of all evils. When they died, it was as though they were overcome with sleep, and they had all good things; for the fruitful earth unforced bare them fruit abundantly and without stint. They dwelt in ease and peace upon their lands with many good things, [120] rich in flocks and loved by the blessed gods.

Hesiod, The Homeric Hymns and Homerica with an English Translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White. Works and Days. (Medford, MA: Cambridge, MA.,Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd., 1914). “Then” a second, silver age of men were found upon the earth:

then they who dwell on Olympus made a second generation which was of silver and less noble by far. It was like the golden race neither in body nor in spirit.

Thus, when we think of a great good like beauty, we think of it as an artifact of the pristine world. Beauty was something in the world from an earlier age and now descended to us. The ancient was not a place of foolish superstition and bad science, it was an age of greater truth and beauty. We are not the accumulation of wisdom but the running down of the world.

With that idea in mind, consider the second line of the sonnet

That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,

The rose of beauty can be lost — indeed, it will be lost if we are not careful to preserve it.

This idea, when it exists in our present age, exists in our understanding of non-human nature. This curious, but not necessarily without foundation. Remember that the Greek concept of a Golden Age comes from a Pagan conception of the universe without a Creator-Creature divide. Moreover, the relationship of human beings to the created order is fundamentally different. The concept of the “image of God” does not appear in the same way in pagan anthropology.

On that issue, the best starting place would be Peter Jone’s, The Other Worldview.

The concept of a pristine earlier age does exist in environmentalism. There is an ecological understanding of the human beings as the agent of defection, the means of devastation. The absence of human activity is good; the presence of human activity is what makes the world worse.

The Desire for Beauty

Beauty — with truth — is also an object of desire and the charm and foundation of life. Keats in his poem Ode on a Grecian Urn famously wrote:

When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

Christianity would posit this triad, the true, the beautiful and the good.

We desire the best creatures to reproduce (increase) so that beauty will continue in the world. We – the rest of the world – desire all of the best creatures to fill the world. There is a faint echo of a biblical theme. Prosperity is always marked as “increase”:

Psalm 115:14 (KJV): The Lord shall increase you more and more,

You and your children.

“Fairest” is the praise of Canticles 1.8, 5.9, 6.1. But this is mixed with a Roman theme of an heir to bear one’s memory.

The Beautiful Should Desire the Continuation of Beauty: Memory as Immortality

The movement of lines 2-4 take this public theme of all the world desires the perpetuating of this beauty to this continuing the beauty is a private benefit of one’s memory.

The trick in the argument is the world “But” at the beginning of line 3. The But shifts the argument to a second theme. We don’t know the rhetorical trick because the But is followed by a parenthetical which distracts us.

A second But turns the private argument on its head. But you are so concerned with yourself that you do not even consider your memory.

This stanza says you have no sense of time. A theme Shakespeare will repeatedly consider is the ever present fact of death.

Stanza Two: The effect upon you for your folly

You are consuming your beauty and youth while not even considering the effect this will have upon yourself and upon others:

5] But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

[6] Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,

[7] Making a famine where abundance lies,

[8] Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

You are making a famine of yourself.

Ironically, the poet cares for the subject than the subject does to his or her self.

The final stanza moves from argument to rebuke:

9] Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament

[10] And only herald to the gaudy spring

[11] Within thine own bud buriest thy content

[12] And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.

You are the spring of the world, but you do not care. You the Spring of the world. Your stinginess, your “niggarding” is a waste.

The beauty of your life and body can only be preserved by having a child.

One theory of Shakespeare is that Shakespeare was the front for Edward DeVere. If so, this poem makes sense as a complaint to Elizabeth Queen.

I am unaware of anyone advancing that theory and it may be just nonsense — but then most of the speculation on the “reality” behind the sonnets is nonsense. All or anyone of the sonnets could be fabrications of his imagination. Shakespeare was at the very least inventive.

The couplet draws these themes together into a rebuke

13] Pity the world, or else this glutton be—

[14] To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

It also multiples implications by the sheer compression of the languag.

You are a glutton who eats what is due another by dying- because you will die. You could do us good, but you will not.

The grave is a glutton and eats people. You are a glutton to yourself by giving yourself to the grave.

Selfishness is death in life and a severer death of being forgotten after death.

Housman, When I watch the living meet

10 Wednesday Apr 2019

Posted by memoirandremains in Literature, Uncategorized

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A Shopshire Lad, A. E. Housman, Death, poem, Poetry, Stoicism

Number XII, A Shopshire Lad

When I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,

If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.

In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;

Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.

Rhyme: The stanzas rhyme A-B/A-B, which is a typical “ballad” form.

Meter: The meter is interesting. Other common ballad structure would be iambic lines of 8-6-8-6 syllables, such as number XVIII

Oh, when I was in love with you
Then I was clean and brave
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave

Or, number II, 8-8-8-8

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough

Each of these forms give a different feel. Number XII uses 7 syllable lines. This forces the first syllable to be accented. The effect is to give the feel a forced march: the step is quite, the pace insistent.

This matches the imagery of the first stanza: There is a march along the street “the moving pageant file”. The poet is watching a parade pass-by: the whole world is marching from this world into the next.

Basic theme: Be mindful of death, because it is coming and will bring all this life to naught.

Perspective: The poet writes in the first person. He realizes himself to be temporarily alive. He thinks of what will happen when he (and everyone else) dies.

Imagery:

Parade:

When I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street

A lodger:

Where I lodge a little while,

Heat/inside a hot house:

If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,

Dust/Lodging

Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.

The imagery is interesting, because it picks up on the imagery of the parade and heat. The parade could easily be on a dirt street — the poem was published in 1896. The combination of dirt, heat and parade naturally suggest “dust”. Dust alludes to “dust-to-dust”. Here is the selection from the Book of Common Prayer, which Housman would have heard:

Then, while the earth shall be cast upon the Body by some standing by, the Minister shall say,

Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth and the sea shall give up their dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed, and made like unto his own glorious body; according to the mighty working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.
Nation:

In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;

Passions:
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;

Love, marriage, sleep, death:

Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.
Observations:

The heat, passions and pageantry of life, and even more the brevity of it all, are contrasted with the silence and endlessness of death. He makes the observation that while he lives, he must come to the realization that he will die and all this will be nothing, will be silent, will be unknown to the citizens of that “nation”. Even the most profound of relationships, marriage, will have no effect upon one after death.

What does not happen here is the most interesting: Housman draws no conclusion, he merely observes. He has no answer to death.

There is an implicit argument for stoicism:

If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
[The] Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.

If I am feeling passion (hate and lust); remember, these passions will soon become nothing. The effect of such a realization would be to deflate the importance of the present passion. If I am filled with hate, right now, remember this “revenge [will be] forgot.” If I am filled with sexual desire (lust), even that — even if there is a marriage — that will have no effect upon in the very near future.

The poem merely counsels, at most, resignation and detachment from the present loves and hates. In this sounds a stoic theme (such this from book 4 of Aurelius’ Meditations):

It is a vulgar, but still a useful help towards contempt of death, to pass in review those who have tenaciously stuck to life. What more then have they gained than those who have died early? Certainly they lie in their tombs somewhere at last, Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any one else like them, who have carried out many to be buried, and then were carried out themselves. Altogether the interval is small between birth and death; and consider with how much trouble, and in company with what sort of people and in what a feeble body this interval is laboriously passed. Do not then consider life a thing of any value. For look to the immensity of time behind thee, and to the time which is before thee, another boundless space. In this infinity then what is the difference between him who lives three days and him who lives three generations?

It is very difficult for this resignation to bring one to any action. Yes, it may alleviate at times the pain of some current event: who cares, I’ll soon be dead. But that also has a tendency to drain lovely things of their beauty:

Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.

This offers a freedom from fear of vengeance,

There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;

But it also robs us love. It is good to contrast this with Shakespeare’s sonnet 73:

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

William Shakespeare, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine (Folger Shakespeare Library, n.d.).

The Spiritual Chymist, Meditation LIX

25 Friday May 2018

Posted by memoirandremains in Uncategorized, William Spurstowe, William Spurstowe

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Death, Psalm 90, The Spiritual Chymist

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Upon Going to Bed

How like is the frail life of Man to a day, as well for the inequality of its length, as the mixture that it has both of clouds and sunshine? What a kind of exact parallel are sleep and death: the one being a state of ligation of the senses; and the other, the privation of them? And how near a kin is the grave to the end, when the Scripture calls it by the same name?

When the clothes that do cover us do the like office the mould [of the grave], that must be cast spread over us. When therefore the day and the labors which Man goes forth unto are ended and the darkness of night dispose unto rest; what though can any better take into his bosom to lie down with?

Then to think that death, like the beasts of the forest may creep forth to seek its prey, and that when it comes there is no resistance to be made or delay to be obtained. It spares no rank of men, but flies to the rich as well as the poor, the prince as well as the peasant. The glass that has the king’s face painted on it is not the less brittle; neither are kings, that God’s image represented in them, less moral. And whether it comes in at the window or at the door, whether in some common or in some unwonted manner, who can tell?

Many oft times fall asleep in this world and awake in the other, and have no sums at all to acquaint them whither they are going. And yet though every man’s condition be thus uncertain, and that his breath in his nostrils, where there is as much room for it go out as to come in; how few do make their night’s repose to serve as memorial for their last rest? Or their bed to stand for a model of their coffin?

Some pervert the night, which was ordained to be a cessation of the evils of labor, to make it a season for their activity in the evils of sin. They devise (as the prophet says) inquiry upon their beds, when the morning is light they practice it, because it is in they power of their hand. [Micah 2:1]

Others are easily brought asleep, by the riot and intemperance of the day, owning their unhappy rest not to the dew of nature but unto the gross and foul vapors of sin, which more darken and eclipse their reason than their sleep. Their dreams having more of it in them than their discourse.

Others again by their youth and health seem to be seated in such an elevation above death; as that they cannot look down from their bed into the grave without growing dizzy, such a steep precipice they apprehend between life and death. Though this distemper does not arise from the distance between the two terms, but from the imbecility of their sense, which cannot bear the least thoughts of a separation form those delights and pleasures to which their souls are firmly wedded.

When therefore most of men are such unthrifts [wasters] of time, and like carless navigators keep no journal or diary of their motions, and other occurrences that fall out. What need have others to make the prayer of Moses the man of God, their prayer? So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. [Ps. 90:12] He who was learned in all the sciences of the Egyptians [Acts 7:22] desires to be taught this point of arithmetic of God: so to number, as not to mistake or make any error in the account of life, in setting down days for minutes and years for days.

A man would think that a little arithmetic would serve to cast up so small a number as the days of him, whose days are as the days of a hireling, few and evil. [Job 7:1] And yet it is such a mystery that Moses begs of God to be instructed in it, as that which is the chief and only knowledge. Yea, God himself earnestly wishes this wishes this wisdom to Israel, his People, O that they were wise; that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!

Can we then render the night more senseless? Or keep the bed unspooled from those impurities that are neither few nor small, then by practicing duly this divine art of numbering our days; which is not done by speculation, or prying into the time or manner of our death: but by meditating and thinking with ourselves what our days are, and for what end our life is given to us; by reckoning our day by our work, and not by our time; by what we do, and not by what we are: By remembering that we are in a continual progress to the chambers of death; no man’s life being so long at the evening as it was in the morning.

Night and day are as two axes at the root of our life, when one is lifted up, the other is down, without rest: every day a chip flies off, and every night a chip, and so at length we are hewn down and fall at the grave’s mouth. O what a wide difference is there between those that lie down with these considerations in their bosoms, and others, who pass their time in pleasures, and allow not the leasts portion fit to think what issues are that a day or night may bring forth?

How free are their conversations from those sensualities and lusts, which others commit in the day, and lie down with the guilt of them in the night? How profitably do they improve their time who count only the present to be theirs, and the future to be God’s? above those, that fancy youth and strength to be a security of succeeding proportions of their life?

Yea, how comfortable is the date of those who are in daily preparation for it, as well as in expectation of it; above what it is to others, who are surprised by it in the midst of those delights in which they promised themselves a continuance for many years?

In what a differing frame and figure does it appear to the one and to the other? The one behold it as a bridge lying under their feet to pass them over the Jordan of this life, into the Canaan of eternal blessedness; and the other as a torrent roaring and frighting them with its hasty downfall: Gladly, therefore would I counsel Christians, who enter the Church Militant by a mystical death, being buried with Christ by baptism; and cannot pass into the Triumphant but by a natural death, to duly bear daily in their minds, the cogitations of their inevitable end, as the best means to allay the fear of death, in what dress soever it comes, and to make it an inlet into happiness whensoever it comes.

As Joseph of Arimathea [Matt. 27:57-60] made his sepulcher in his garden, that in the midst of his delights he might think of death; so let us in our chamber make such schemes and representations of death to ourselves as may make it familiar to us in the emblems of it, and then it will be less ghastly when we behold its true visage.

That shortly (as St. Peter says) we must put off this our Tabernacle. [2 Pet. 1:14] I, and think again, what a likeness there is between our night-clothes and our grave-clothes, between the bed and the tomb. What little distance there is between life and death, the one being as an eye open, and the other as an eye shut. In the twinkling of an eye we will be living and dead men. [1 Cor. 15:52]

O what ardors of lusts would such thoughts chill and damp? What sorrows for sins past? What diligence for time to come to watch against the first stirrings of sin would such thoughts beget? It being the property of sin to divert us rather from looking upon our end, then embolden us to defy it.

Lord then make me to know my end

And the measure of my days,

That I in my own generation serve the will of God

And then fall asleep as David did

And not as others

Who fall asleep before they have done their work,

And put off their bodies before they have put off their sins.