(524) Is not their mode of operation on this wise—the sense which is concerned with the quality of hardness is necessarily concerned also with the quality of softness, and only intimates to the soul that the same thing is felt to be both hard and soft? You are quite right, he said. And must not the soul be perplexed at this intimation which the sense gives of a hard which is also soft? What, again, is the meaning of light and heavy, if that which is light is also heavy, and that which is heavy, light? Yes, he said, these intimations which the soul receives are very curious and require to be explained. Yes, I said, and in these perplexities the soul naturally summons to her aid calculation and intelligence, that she may see whether the several objects announced to her are one or two. True. And if they turn out to be two, is not each of them one and different? Certainly. And if each is one, and both are two, she will conceive the two as in a state of division, for if there were undivided they could only be conceived of as one? True. The eye certainly did see both small and great, but only in a confused manner; they were not distinguished. Yes. Whereas the thinking mind, intending to light up the chaos, was compelled to reverse the process, and look at small and great as separate and not confused. Very true. Was not this the beginning of the enquiry ‘What is great?’ and ‘What is small?’ Exactly so. And thus arose the distinction of the visible and the intelligible.

(54) Wilt thou not believe this? Then open thy eyes, and go to a tree, look upon it, and bethink thyself; there you see first the whole tree, take a knife and cut a gash in it, and taste how it is; then you first taste the astringent, harsh, choky quality, which draweth thy tongue together, and that also draweth and holdeth together all the powers of the tree.

(44) ["Here is meant or understood out of or from a quite Godless seed, whereout there often grows a thistle; though yet there were a remedy, if the will were but once broken; but it is a rare and precious thing; however, indeed on a good tree it is often so, that some branches do also wither."] Note.

(42) Yet if a wild twig be planted in a sweet soil, and be engrafted with some other of a better and sweeter kind, then there grows a mild tree, though the twig were wild. For here all is possible; the evil is as soon changed into good, as the good into evil.

(4) "Dialecticians of the day," replied the Spirit of the River, "all say that the infinitesimally small has no form, and that the infinitesimally great is beyond all measurement. Is that so?" "If we regard greatness as compared with that which is small," said the Spirit of the Ocean, "there is no limit to it; and if we regard smallness as compared with that which is great, it eludes our sight. The infinitesimal is a subdivision of the small; the colossal is an extension of the great. In this sense the two fall into different categories. "Both small and great things must equally possess form. The mind cannot picture to itself a thing without form, nor conceive a form of unlimited dimensions. The greatness of anything may be a topic of discussion, or the smallness of anything may be mentally realized. But that which can be neither a topic of discussion nor be realized mentally, can be neither great nor small.

(11) But other fell into good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up, and increased; and bare fruit, some a hundredfold, some sixtyfold, and some thirtyfold.

(13) Thou hast a similitude of this, in that the earth and stones are proceeded out of the incomprehensibility.

(3) But soon the facts shall be the Naiades Who shall this difficult enigma solve, Without destruction of the flocks and harvests. Note thou; and even as by me are uttered These words, so teach them unto those who live That life which is a running unto death; And bear in mind, whene'er thou writest them, Not to conceal what thou hast seen the plant, That twice already has been pillaged here. Whoever pillages or shatters it, With blasphemy of deed offendeth God, Who made it holy for his use alone. For biting that, in pain and in desire Five thousand years and more the first-born soul Craved Him, who punished in himself the bite. Thy genius slumbers, if it deem it not For special reason so pre-eminent In height, and so inverted in its summit. And if thy vain imaginings had not been Water of Elsa round about thy mind, And Pyramus to the mulberry, their pleasure, Thou by so many circumstances only The justice of the interdict of God Morally in the tree wouldst recognize.

(12) "It's not worth talking about," replied his master. "It's good for nothing. Make a boat of it,—'twould sink. A coffin,—'twould rot. Furniture,—'twould soon break down. A door,—'twould sweat. A pillar,—'twould be worm-eaten. It is wood of no quality, and of no use. That is why it has attained its present age." When the artisan reached home, he dreamt that the tree appeared to him in a dream and spoke as follows:—"What is it that you compare me with? Is it with the more elegant trees?—The cherry-apple, the pear, the orange, the pumelo, and other fruit-bearers, as soon as their fruit ripens are stripped and treated with indignity. The great boughs are snapped off, the small ones scattered abroad. Thus do these trees by their own value injure their own lives. They cannot fulfil their allotted span of years, but perish prematurely in mid-career from their entanglement with the world around them. Thus it is with all things. For a long period my aim was to be useless. Many times I was in danger, but at length I succeeded, and so became useful as I am to-day. But had I then been of use, I should not now be of the great use I am. Moreover, you and I belong both to the same category of things. Have done then with this criticism of others. Is a good-for-nothing fellow whose dangers are not yet passed a fit person to talk of a good-for-nothing tree?"

(30) Now when I write of trees, plants and fruits, you must not understand them to be earthly, like those that are in this world; for it is not my meaning that there shall grow in heaven such dead, hard trees of wood, or such stones as consist of an earthly quality.

(15) It was with me as with a young tree that is planted in the ground, and at first is young and tender, and flourishing to the eye, especially if it comes on lustily in its growing: But [it] does not bear fruit at once; and though it blossoms, the blossoms fall off; also many a cold wind, frost and snow pass over it, before it comes to any growth and bearing of fruit.

(70) Let a fool month after month eat his food (like an ascetic) with the tip of a blade of Kusa grass, yet he is not worth the sixteenth particle of those who have well weighed the law.

(2) "Why can I not go to see this tree which they tell about?" the girl exclaimed. "Surely the fruit of which I hear tell must be very good." Finally she went alone and arrived at the foot of the tree which was planted in Pucbal-Chah. "Ah!" she exclaimed. "What fruit is this which this tree bears? Is it not wonderful to see how it is covered with fruit? Must I die, shall I be lost, if I pick one of this fruit?" said the maiden.

(3) Never to thee presented art or nature Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth. And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee By reason of my death, what mortal thing Should then have drawn thee into its desire? Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft Of things fallacious to have risen up To follow me, who was no longer such. Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward To wait for further blows, or little girl, Or other vanity of such brief use. The callow birdlet waits for two or three, But to the eyes of those already fledged, In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot." Even as children silent in their shame Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground, And conscious of their fault, and penitent; So was I standing; and she said: "If thou In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing." With less resistance is a robust holm Uprooted, either by a native wind Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,

(12) The one who ran on high and the one who drew him to himself were not barren, but in bringing forth a fruit in the Pleroma, they upset those who were in the defect.

(2) those things that are difficult to distinguish you might distinguish, and those things that are unknown to the multitude you might know, and that you might be restored to that which is yours, which was already intact and so needs no restoration.

(3) "Very well," replied the Spirit of the River, "am I then to regard the universe as great and the tip of a hair as small?" "Not at all," said the Spirit of the Ocean. "Dimensions are limitless; time is endless. Conditions are not invariable; terms are not final. Thus, the wise man looks into space, and does not regard the small as too little, nor the great as too much; for he knows that there is no limit to dimension. He looks back into the past, and does not grieve over what is far off, nor rejoice over what is near; for he knows that time is without end. He investigates fulness and decay, and does not rejoice if he succeeds, nor lament if he fails; for he knows that conditions are not invariable. He who clearly apprehends the scheme of existence, does not rejoice over life, nor repine at death; for he knows that terms are not final. "What man knows is not to be compared with what he does not know. The span of his existence is not to be compared with the span of his non-existence. With the small to strive to exhaust the great, necessarily lands him in confusion, and he does not attain his object. How then should one be able to say that the tip of a hair is the ne plus ultra of smallness, or that the universe is the ne plus ultra of greatness?"

(1) BECAUSE I write here of heavenly and divine things, which are altogether strange to the corrupted, perished nature of man, the Reader doubtless will wonder at the simplicity of the author, and be offended at it.

(2) Someone asked a man of understanding: 'What is the world? What can it be compared to?' He replied: 'This world, which is compounded of horrors and crime, is like a palm-tree of wax, adorned with a hundred colours. If you squee2e the tree it becomes a lump of wax; therefore the colours and shapes you admire are not worth an obol. If there is unity there cannot be duality; neither "I" nor "Thou" has significance.

' But what is the use of my words, though they come from the depth of my soul, if you do not ponder over them. If you have fallen into the ocean of exterior life, like a partridge whose wings and feathers cannot support it, then never cease to think about how to reach the shore. '

(65) Behold! thou blind man, I will demonstrate this to thee thus: Go into a meadow, there thou seest several sorts of herbs and flowers; thou seest some that are bitter, some tart, sweet, sour, white, yellow, red, blue, green, and many various sorts.