louis lambert-第7部分

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which　we　work　up　from　the　effect　to　the　cause；　or；　in　a　wider　sense；
all　poetry；　like　every　work　of　art；　proceeds　from　a　swift　vision　of
things。〃

He　was　a　spiritualist　（as　opposed　to　materialism）；　but　I　would　venture
to　contradict　him；　using　his　own　arguments　to　consider　the　intellect
as　a　purely　physical　phenomenon。　We　both　were　right。　Perhaps　the　words
materialism　and　spiritualism　express　the　two　faces　of　the　same　fact。
His　considerations　on　the　substance　of　the　mind　led　to　his　accepting；
with　a　certain　pride；　the　life　of　privation　to　which　we　were　condemned
in　consequence　of　our　idleness　and　our　indifference　to　learning。　He
had　a　certain　consciousness　of　his　own　powers　which　bore　him　up
through　his　spiritual　cogitations。　How　delightful　it　was　to　me　to　feel
his　soul　acting　on　my　own！　Many　a　time　have　we　remained　sitting　on　our
form；　both　buried　in　one　book；　having　quite　forgotten　each　other's
existence；　and　yet　not　apart；　each　conscious　of　the　other's　presence；
and　bathing　in　an　ocean　of　thought；　like　two　fish　swimming　in　the　same
waters。

Our　life；　apparently；　was　merely　vegetating；　but　we　lived　through　our
heart　and　brain。

Lambert's　influence　over　my　imagination　left　traces　that　still　abide。
I　used　to　listen　hungrily　to　his　tales；　full　of　the　marvels　which　make
men；　as　well　as　children；　rapturously　devour　stories　in　which　truth
assumes　the　most　grotesque　forms。　His　passion　for　mystery；　and　the
credulity　natural　to　the　young；　often　led　us　to　discuss　Heaven　and
Hell。　Then　Louis；　by　expounding　Swedenborg；　would　try　to　make　me　share
in　his　beliefs　concerning　angels。　In　his　least　logical　arguments　there
were　still　amazing　observations　as　to　the　powers　of　man；　which　gave
his　words　that　color　of　truth　without　which　nothing　can　be　done　in　any
art。　The　romantic　end　he　foresaw　as　the　destiny　of　man　was　calculated
to　flatter　the　yearning　which　tempts　blameless　imaginations　to　give
themselves　up　to　beliefs。　Is　it　not　during　the　youth　of　a　nation　that
its　dogmas　and　idols　are　conceived？　And　are　not　the　supernatural
beings　before　whom　the　people　tremble　the　personification　of　their
feelings　and　their　magnified　desires？



All　that　I　can　now　remember　of　the　poetical　conversations　we　held
together　concerning　the　Swedish　prophet；　whose　works　I　have　since　had
the　curiosity　to　read；　may　be　told　in　a　few　paragraphs。

In　each　of　us　there　are　two　distinct　beings。　According　to　Swedenborg；
the　angel　is　an　individual　in　whom　the　inner　being　conquers　the
external　being。　If　a　man　desires　to　earn　his　call　to　be　an　angel；　as
soon　as　his　mind　reveals　to　him　his　twofold　existence；　he　must　strive
to　foster　the　delicate　angelic　essence　that　exists　within　him。　If；　for
lack　of　a　lucid　appreciation　of　his　destiny；　he　allows　bodily　action
to　predominate；　instead　of　confirming　his　intellectual　being；　all　his
powers　will　be　absorbed　in　the　use　of　his　external　senses；　and　the
angel　will　slowly　perish　by　the　materialization　of　both　natures。　In
the　contrary　case；　if　he　nourishes　his　inner　being　with　the　aliment
needful　to　it；　the　soul　triumphs　over　matter　and　strives　to　get　free。

When　they　separate　by　the　act　of　what　we　call　death；　the　angel；　strong
enough　then　to　cast　off　its　wrappings；　survives　and　begins　its　real
life。　The　infinite　variety　which　differentiates　individual　men　can
only　be　explained　by　this　twofold　existence；　which；　again；　is　proved
and　made　intelligible　by　that　variety。

In　point　of　fact；　the　wide　distance　between　a　man　whose　torpid
intelligence　condemns　him　to　evident　stupidity；　and　one　who；　by　the
exercise　of　his　inner　life；　has　acquired　the　gift　of　some　power；
allows　us　to　suppose　that　there　is　as　great　a　difference　between　men
of　genius　and　other　beings　as　there　is　between　the　blind　and　those　who
see。　This　hypothesis；　since　it　extends　creation　beyond　all　limits；
gives　us；　as　it　were；　the　clue　to　heaven。　The　beings　who；　here　on
earth；　are　apparently　mingled　without　distinction；　are　there
distributed；　according　to　their　inner　perfection；　in　distinct　spheres
whose　speech　and　manners　have　nothing　in　common。　In　the　invisible
world；　as　in　the　real　world；　if　some　native　of　the　lower　spheres
comes；　all　unworthy；　into　a　higher　sphere；　not　only　can　he　never
understand　the　customs　and　language　there；　but　his　mere　presence
paralyzes　the　voice　and　hearts　of　those　who　dwell　therein。

Dante；　in　his　/Divine　Comedy/；　had　perhaps　some　slight　intuition　of
those　spheres　which　begin　in　the　world　of　torment；　and　rise；　circle　on
circle；　to　the　highest　heaven。　Thus　Swedenborg's　doctrine　is　the
product　of　a　lucid　spirit　noting　down　the　innumerable　signs　by　which
the　angels　manifest　their　presence　among　men。

This　doctrine；　which　I　have　endeavored　to　sum　up　in　a　more　or　less
consistent　form；　was　set　before　me　by　Lambert　with　all　the　fascination
of　mysticism；　swathed　in　the　wrappings　of　the　phraseology　affected　by
mystical　writers：　an　obscure　language　full　of　abstractions；　and　taking
such　effect　on　the　brain；　that　there　are　books　by　Jacob　Boehm；
Swedenborg；　and　Madame　Guyon；　so　strangely　powerful　that　they　give
rise　to　phantasies　as　various　as　the　dreams　of　the　opium…eater。
Lambert　told　me　of　mystical　facts　so　extraordinary；　he　so　acted　on　my
imagination；　that　he　made　my　brain　reel。　Still；　I　loved　to　plunge　into
that　realm　of　mystery；　invisible　to　the　senses；　in　which　every　one
likes　to　dwell；　whether　he　pictures　it　to　himself　under　the　indefinite
ideal　of　the　Future；　or　clothes　it　in　the　more　solid　guise　of　romance。
These　violent　revulsions　of　the　mind　on　itself　gave　me；　without　my
knowing　it；　a　comprehension　of　its　power；　and　accustomed　me　to　the
workings　of　the　mind。

Lambert　himself　explained　everything　by　his　theory　of　the　angels。　To
him　pure　lovelove　as　we　dream　of　it　in　youthwas　the　coalescence　of
two　angelic　natures。　Nothing　could　exceed　the　fervency　with　which　he
longed　to　meet　a　woman　angel。　And　who　better　than　he　could　inspire　or
feel　love？　If　anything　could　give　an　impression　of　an　exquisite
nature；　was　it　not　the　amiability　and　kindliness　that　marked　his
feelings；　his　words；　his　actions；　his　slightest　gestures；　the　conjugal
regard　that　united　us　as　boys；　and　that　we　expressed　when　we　called
ourselves　/chums/？

There　was　no　distinction　for　us　between　my　ideas　and　his。　We　imitated
each　other's　handwriting；　so　that　one　might　write　the　tasks　of　both。
Thus；　if　one　of　us　had　a　book　to　finish　and　to　return　to　the
mathematical　master；　he　could　read　on　without　interruption　while　the
other　scribbled　off　his　exercise　and　imposition。　We　did　our　tasks　as
though　paying　a　task　on　our　peace　of　mind。　If　my　memory　does　not　play
me　false；　they　were　sometimes　of　remarkable　merit　when　Lambert　did
them。　But　on　the　foregone　conclusion　that　we　were　both　of　us　idiots；
the　master　always　went　through　them　under　a　rooted　prejudice；　and　even
kept　them　to　read　to　be　laughed　at　by　our　schoolfellows。

I　remember　one　afternoon；　at　the　end　of　the　lesson；　which　lasted　from
two　till　four；　the　master　took　possession　of　a　page　of　translation　by
Lambert。　The　passage　began　with　/Caius　Gracchus；　vir　nobilis/；　Lambert
had　construed　this　by　〃Caius　Gracchus　had　a　noble　heart。〃

〃Where　do　you　find　'heart'　in　/nobilis/？〃　said　the　Father　sharply。

And　there　was　a　roar　of　laughter；　while　Lambert　looked　at　the　master
in　some　bewilderment。

〃What　would　Madame　la　Baronne　de　Stael　say　if　she　could　know　that　you
make　such　nonsense　of　a　word　that　means　noble　family；　of　patrician
rank？〃

〃She　would　say　that　you　were　an　ass！〃　said　I　in　a　muttered　tone。

〃Master　Poet；　you　will　stay　in　for　a　week；〃　replied　the　master；　who
unfortunately　overheard　me。

Lambert　simply　repeated；　looking　at　me　with　inexpressible　affection；
〃/Vir　nobilis/！〃

Madame　de　Stael　was；　in　fact；　partly　the　cause　of　Lambert's　troubles。
On　every　pretext　masters　and　pupils　threw　the　name　in　his　teeth；
either　in　irony　or　in　reproof。

Louis　lost　no　time　in　getting　himself　〃kept　in〃　to　share　my
imprisonment。　Freer　thus　than　in　any　other　circumstances；　we　could
talk　the　whole　day　long　in　the　silence　of　the　dormitories；　where　each
boy　had　a　cubicle　six　feet　square；　the　partitions　consisting　at　the
top　of　open　bars。　The　doors；　fitted　with　gratings；　were　locked　at
night　and　opened　in　the　morning　under　the　eye　of　the　Father　whose　duty
it　was　to　superintend　our　rising　and　going　to　bed。　The　creak　of　these
gates；　which　the　college　servants　unlocked　with　remarkable　expedition；
was　a　sound　peculiar　to　that　college。　These　little　cells　were　our
prison；　and　boys　were　sometimes　shut　up　there　for　a　month　at　a　time。
The　boys　in　these　coops　were　under　the　stern　eye　of　the　prefect；　a
sort　of　censor　who　stole　up　at　certain　hours；　or　at　unexpected
moments；　with　a　silent　step；　to　hear　if　we　were　talking　instead　of
writing　our　impositions。　But　a　few　walnut　shells　dropped　on　the
stairs；　or　the　sharpness　of　our　hearing；　almost　always　enabled　us　to
beware　of　his　coming；　so　we　could　give　ourselves　up　without　anxiety　to
our　favorite　studies。　However；　as　books　were　prohibited；　our　prison
hours　were　chiefly　filled　up　with　metaphysical　discussions；　or　with
relating　singular　facts　connected　with　the　phenomena　of　mind。

One　of　the　most　extraordinary　of　these　incidents　beyond　question　is
this；　which　I　will　here　record；　not　only　because　it　concerns　Lambert；
but　because　it　perhaps　was　the　turning…point　of　his　scientific　career。
By　the　law　of　custom　in　all　schools；　Thursday　and　Sunday　were
holidays；　but　the　services；　which　we　were　made　to　attend　very
regularly；　so　completely　filled　up　Sunday；　that　we　considered　Thursday
our　only　real　day　of　freedom。　After　once　attending　Mass；　we　had　a　long
day　before　us　to　spend　in　walks　in　the　country　round　the　town　of
Vendome。　The　manor　of　Rochambeau　was　the　most　interesting　object　of
our　excursions；　perhaps　by　reason　of　its　distance；　the　smaller　boys
were　very　seldom　taken　on　so　fatiguing　an　expedition。　However；　once　or
twice　a　year　the　class…masters　would　hold　out　Rochambeau　as　a　reward
for　diligence。

In　1812；　towards　the　end　of　the　spring；　we　were　to　go　there　for　the
first　time。　Our　anxiety　to　see　this　famous　chateau　of　Rochambeau；
where　the　owner　sometimes　treated　the　boys　to　mi