Fourth Dialogue-c

Besides which he considers that his blindness is not from constitution, but from habit, and is peculiar to himself, because the luminous fire which kindles the soul in the pupil, was for too long a time and with too much force, repressed and restrained by a contrary humour, so that although he might cease from weeping, he cannot be persuaded that this would result in the longed-for vision. You will hear what he says to the throng in order that they should enable him to proceed on his way: 67. The fifth blind man . Eyes of mine, with waters ever full, When will the bright spark of the visual ray, Darting, spring through each veiling obstacle, That I may see again those holy lights That were the alpha of my darling pain? Ah, woe! I fear me it is quite extinct, So long oppressed and conquered by its opposite. Let the blind man pass on! And turn your eyes upon these founts Which overcome the others one and all. Should any dare dispute it with me, There's one would surely answer him again; That in one eye of mine an ocean is contained. The sixth blind man is sightless because, through so much weeping, there remains no more moisture, not even the crystalline and moisture through which, as a diaphanous medium, the visual ray was transmitted, and the external light and visible species were introduced, so that the heart became compressed because all the moist substance, whose office it is to keep united the various parts and opposites, was absorbed, and the amorous affection remains without the effect of tears. Therefore the organ is destroyed through the victory of the other elements, and it is consequently left without sight and without consistency of the parts of the body altogether.[AC] He then proposes to the bystanders that which you shall hear: 68. The sixth blind man . Eyes, no longer eyes, fountains no longer founts, Ye have wept out the waters that did keep The body, soul, and spirit joined in one, And thou, reflecting crystal, which from without So much unto the soul made manifest, Thou art consumed by the wounded heart. So towards the dark and cavernous abyss, I, a blind arid man, direct my steps. Ah, pity me, and do not hesitate To help my speedy going. I who So many rivers in the dark days spread out, Finding my only comfort in my tears, Now that my streams and fountains all are dry, Towards profound oblivion lead the way. [AC] Water is the first principle of all things; this was the central doctrine of his system (Thales). Now, if we may believe Aristotle, this thought was suggested to him not so much by contemplating the illimitable ocean, out of which, as old cosmogonists taught, all things had at first proceeded, as by noticing the obvious fact, that moisture is found in all living things, and that if it were absent they would cease to be. Thales, no doubt, believed this humour or moisture to be, as he said, the essence and principle of all things.—("Encyclopædia Metropolitana.") The next one avers that he has lost his sight through the intensity of the flame, which, proceeding from the heart, first destroyed the eyes, and then dried up all the remaining moisture of the substance of the lover, so that being all melted and turned to flame, he is no longer himself, because the fire whose property it is to resolve all bodies into their atoms, has converted him into impalpable dust, whereas by virtue of water alone, the atoms of other bodies thicken, and are welded together to make a substantial composition. Yet he is not deprived of the sense of the most intense flame.