Mathilda by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (online e book reader txt) 📖

my command which poets of old have visited and have seen those sights the relation of which has been as a revelation to the world—many spots I have still in keeping of lovely fields or horrid rocks peopled by the beautiful or the tremendous which I keep in reserve for my future worshippers—to one of those whose grim terrors frightened sleep from the eye I formerly led you[91] but you now need more pleasing images & although I will not promise you to shew you any new scenes yet if I lead you to one often visited by my followers you will at least see new combinations that will sooth if they do not delight you—Follow me—

Alas! I replied—when have you found me slow to obey your voice—some times indeed I have called you & you have not come—but when before have I not followed your slightest sign and have left what was either of joy or sorrow in our world to dwell with you in yours till you have dismissed me ever unwilling to depart—But now the weight of grief that oppresses me takes from me that lightness which is necessary to follow your quick & winged motions alas in the midst of my course one thought would make me droop to the ground while you would outspeed me to your Kingdom of Glory & leave me here darkling

Ungrateful! replied the Spirit Do I not tell you that I will sustain & console you My wings shall aid your heavy steps & I will command my winds to disperse the mist that over casts you—I will lead you to a place where you will not hear laughter that disturbs you or see the sun that dazzles you—We will choose some of the most sombre walks of the Elysian fields—

The Elysian fields—I exclaimed with a quick scream—shall I then see? I gasped & could not ask that which I longed to know—the friendly spirit replied more gravely—I have told you that you will not see those whom you mourn—But I must away—follow me or I must leave you weeping deserted by the spirit that now checks your tears—

Go—I replied I cannot follow—I can only sit here & grieve—& long to see those who are gone for ever for to nought but what has relation to them can I listen—

The spirit left me to groan & weep to wish the sun quenched in eternal darkness—to accuse the air the waters all—all the universe of my utter & irremediable misery—Fantasia came again and ever when she came tempted me to follow her but as to follow her was to leave for a while the thought of those loved ones whose memories were my all although they were my torment I dared not go—Stay with me I cried & help me to clothe my bitter thoughts in lovelier colours give me hope although fallacious & images of what has been although it never will be again—diversion I cannot take cruel fairy do you leave me alas all my joy fades at thy departure but I may not follow thee—

One day after one of these combats when the spirit had left me I wandered on along the banks of the river to try to disperse the excessive misery that I felt untill overcome by fatigue—my eyes weighed down by tears—I lay down under the shade of trees & fell asleep—I slept long and when I awoke I knew not where I was—I did not see the river or the distant city—but I lay beside a lovely fountain shadowed over by willows & surrounded by blooming myrtles—at a short distance the air seemed pierced by the spiry pines & cypresses and the ground was covered by short moss & sweet smelling heath—the sky was blue but not dazzling like that of Rome and on every side I saw long allies—clusters of trees with intervening lawns & gently stealing rivers—Where am I? [I] exclaimed—& looking around me I beheld Fantasia—She smiled & as she smiled all the enchanting scene appeared lovelier—rainbows played in the fountain & the heath flowers at our feet appeared as if just refreshed by dew—I have seized you, said she—as you slept and will for some little time retain you as my prisoner—I will introduce you to some of the inhabitants of these peaceful Gardens—It shall not be to any whose exuberant happiness will form an u[n]pleasing contrast with your heavy grief but it shall be to those whose chief care here is to acquired knowledged [sic] & virtue—or to those who having just escaped from care & pain have not yet recovered full sense of enjoyment—This part of these Elysian Gardens is devoted to those who as before in your world wished to become wise & virtuous by study & action here endeavour after the same ends by contemplation—They are still unknowing of their final destination but they have a clear knowledge of what on earth is only supposed by some which is that their happiness now & hereafter depends upon their intellectual improvement—Nor do they only study the forms of this universe but search deeply in their own minds and love to meet & converse on all those high subjects of which the philosophers of Athens loved to treat—With deep feelings but with no outward circumstances to excite their passions you will perhaps imagine that their life is uniform & dull—but these sages are of that disposition fitted to find wisdom in every thing & in every lovely colour or form ideas that excite their love—Besides many years are consumed before they arrive here—When a soul longing for knowledge & pining at its narrow conceptions escapes from your earth many spirits wait to receive it and to open its eyes to the mysteries of the universe—many centuries are often consumed in these travels and they at last retire here to digest their knowledge & to become still wiser by thought and imagination working upon memory [92]—When the fitting period is accomplished they leave this garden to inhabit another world fitted for the reception of beings almost infinitely wise—but what this world is neither can you conceive or I teach you—some of the spirits whom you will see here are yet unknowing in the secrets of nature—They are those whom care & sorrow have consumed on earth & whose hearts although active in virtue have been shut through suffering from knowledge—These spend sometime here to recover their equanimity & to get a thirst of knowledge from converse with their wiser companions—They now securely hope to see again those whom they love & know that it is ignorance alone that detains them from them. As for those who in your world knew not the loveliness of benevolence & justice they are placed apart some claimed by the evil spirit & in vain sought for by the good but She whose delight is to reform the wicked takes all she can & delivers them to her ministers not to be punished but to be exercised & instructed untill acquiring a love of virtue they are fitted for these gardens where they will acquire a love of knowledge

As Fantasia talked I saw various groupes of figures as they walked among the allies of the gardens or were seated on the grassy plots either in contemplation or conversation several advanced together towards the fountain where I sat—As they approached I observed the principal figure to be that of a woman about 40 years of age her eyes burned with a deep fire and every line of her face expressed enthusiasm & wisdom—Poetry seemed seated on her lips which were beautifully formed & every motion of her limbs although not youthful was inexpressibly graceful—her black hair was bound in tresses round her head and her brows were encompassed by a fillet—her dress was that of a simple tunic bound at the waist by a broad girdle and a mantle which fell over her left arm she was encompassed by several youths of both sexes who appeared to hang on her words & to catch the inspiration as it flowed from her with looks either of eager wonder or stedfast attention with eyes all bent towards her eloquent countenance which beamed with the mind within—I am going said Fantasia but I leave my spirit with you without which this scene wd fade away—I leave you in good company—that female whose eyes like the loveliest planet in the heavens draw all to gaze on her is the Prophetess Diotima the instructress of Socrates[93]—The company about her are those just escaped from the world there they were unthinking or misconducted in the pursuit of knowledge. She leads them to truth & wisdom untill the time comes when they shall be fitted for the journey through the universe which all must one day undertake—farewell—

And now, gentlest reader—I must beg your indulgence—I am a being too weak to record the words of Diotima her matchless wisdom & heavenly eloquence[.] What I shall repeat will be as the faint shadow of a tree by moonlight—some what of the form will be preserved but there will be no life in it—Plato alone of Mortals could record the thoughts of Diotima hopeless therefore I shall not dwell so much on her words as on those of her pupils which being more earthly can better than hers be related by living lips[.]

Diotima approached the fountain & seated herself on a mossy mound near it and her disciples placed themselves on the grass near her—Without noticing me who sat close under her she continued her discourse addressing as it happened one or other of her listeners—but before I attempt to repeat her words I will describe the chief of these whom she appeared to wish principally to impress—One was a woman of about 23 years of age in the full enjoyment of the most exquisite beauty her golden hair floated in ringlets on her shoulders—her hazle eyes were shaded by heavy lids and her mouth the lips apart seemed to breathe sensibility[94]—But she appeared thoughtful & unhappy—her cheek was pale she seemed as if accustomed to suffer and as if the lessons she now heard were the only words of wisdom to which she had ever listened—The youth beside her had a far different aspect—his form was emaciated nearly to a shadow—his features were handsome but thin & worn—& his eyes glistened as if animating the visage of decay—his forehead was expansive but there was a doubt & perplexity in his looks that seemed to say that although he had sought wisdom he had got entangled in some mysterious mazes from which he in vain endeavoured to extricate himself—As Diotima spoke his colour went & came with quick changes & the flexible muscles of his countenance shewed every impression that his mind received—he seemed one who in life had studied hard but whose feeble frame sunk beneath the weight of the mere exertion of life—the spark of intelligence burned with uncommon strength within him but that of life seemed ever on the eve of fading[95]—At present I shall not describe any other of this groupe but with deep attention try to recall in my memory some of the words of Diotima—they were words of fire but their path is faintly marked on my recollection—[96]

It requires a just hand, said she continuing her discourse, to weigh & divide the good from evil—On the earth they are inextricably entangled and if you would cast away what there appears an evil a multitude of beneficial causes or effects cling to it & mock your labour—When I was on earth and have walked in a solitary country during the silence of night & have beheld the multitude of stars, the soft radiance of the moon reflected on the sea, which was studded