William Blake Part 11

Deism was the particular time-heresy of Blake's day. He came into direct contact with it through his friend Tom Paine. Deistic religion, to be adequate for man's need, must rest on perfect nature and perfect experience. Paine, Voltaire, and Rousseau, in order to provide these conditions which they saw to be necessary, were driven to make the wild statement, contrary to all experience, that man is naturally holy and good, and if he is not so as we know him, it is because he is everywhere perverted by artificial civilization. Having swallowed this baseless a.s.sumption, the rest was easy. They had only like G.o.dwin to manufacture some scheme of political justice, or like Rousseau to arrange a social contract, and then the Millennium would come.

Against all this Blake protested, but without personal heat. He was well aware of Paine's deism, when he helped him to escape to France; and of Voltaire he wrote justly: "He has sinned against the Son of man, and it shall be forgiven him." He protested and he affirmed: "Man is born a Spectre, or Satan, and is altogether an Evil." In this uncompromising affirmation, taken out of the heart of _Jerusalem_, written at the mature age of forty-seven, he cuts himself off sharply, not only from the humanitarian deism of his time, but from the pantheism that invaded so many phases of his thought; he goes beyond the kindly catholic dogma which allows a residuum of original righteousness in fallen man; and, with Whitefield and the Calvinists, denies that he has any righteousness left at all. Hence the utter failure of all empiricism, and the absolute need of Revelation and a supernatural religion. How near he was getting to Dr Johnson! Super-nature, of course, presupposes nature. Blake was obliged to contemplate Nature, and meditate on the ancient difficulties that she still presents.

There are many pa.s.sages in _The Four Zoas_ to show how alive he was to Nature's loveliness and cruelty. Her cruelty alone convinced him that she could not be taken as a basis for religion. A natural man building his character on a natural religion must be as cruel as his mother. The cruelty finds periodic vent in the l.u.s.t of war.

Yet why there is so much cruelty in Nature remains a mystery, even to the man who has been driven by her to supernaturalism. Blake maintained that there were two ways of regarding Nature. The natural man, with only five senses to inform him, looks at her and sees a very small portion of the infinite, without ever suspecting the infinite. If he sees her loveliness it will arrest him and hold him fast. The spiritual man, on the contrary, looks not at but through Nature, to the spiritual world of which it is a vegetable mirror.

Here a difficulty presents itself. If Nature be a vegetable mirror of the eternal world, then her cruelties must reflect eternal cruelties. The spiritual man may see Nature far differently from the natural man, but that does not mean that she is merely the picture thrown by man's subjective self on the great abyss. If man were altogether exterminated her cruelties would still continue. Since Blake did not deny all existence to Nature, he was finally obliged to accept the old Christian explanation so finely summed up by St Paul in the eighth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans. Sin and disorder originate in the unseen heavens of the cosmos, where the princ.i.p.alities and powers dwell. Man repeats their sins, and Nature reflects the disorder of their cosmos. Hence there is no redemption in the cosmic heavens. Man enters on his redemption only when he bows the knee to Him who was raised above all heavens. And though "the whole creation groaneth and travaileth together until now," yet at the great manifestation of the sons of G.o.d she also "shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of G.o.d."

If the fall be denied, then the sufferings of nature and man must be referred to evolution, which taken alone solves something, but not the whole, of the ancient and baffling mystery.

All this explains finally why the great Memory to which Blake refers so often in _Jerusalem_ cannot redeem a man. It is shut up in the cosmos.

Memory would keep man in the cosmos even though he were reincarnated a million times. Memory's real work, whether for creative art or man's redemption, is in the fact that she gives man standing ground amid the horrors of infinity, until he takes strong hold of Him who overcame the world, and is lifted by Him into His ascension glory beyond the maddening whir of the cosmic wheels.

In these poems we get Blake's final att.i.tude towards s.e.x and pa.s.sion.

Pa.s.sion is always fire, and as such it is energy. To-day we are apt to use the word only for s.e.x. In the eighteenth century pa.s.sion was of any kind, and appet.i.te stood for s.e.x. With Blake, pa.s.sion is man's vital worth. It may flame along many forbidden avenues, but once it has mounted to the imagination, and is controlled by spirit, then it is the driving force that makes man's works beautiful and his character spontaneous.

The pa.s.sion of s.e.x is, no doubt, the strongest of all. In the early prophetic books, when Blake was in a fever of rebellion, he affirmed that the s.e.x pa.s.sion was holy and should be free. Now in these later "prophecies" he still maintains, without wavering, the holiness of s.e.x, but he no longer insists on free-love. He has no place for perversions. He steadily contemplates the normal impulse, and sees it as the principle of life impelling to love and children.

Each man has to solve his own s.e.x problem. Blake's nature was exceptionally full and pa.s.sionate. We caught a glimpse of him in his early married life panting in the whirlwind of s.e.xual desire. It is probably true that he even contemplated following the patriarchal custom. But inconveniently for man's theories he has it brought home to him sooner or later that no man can live to himself alone. Mrs Blake had her feelings; and though she was the most submissive and loyal of wives, yet she had the instinctive and normal objection to sharing her husband with others. Blake might argue that her objection was unreasonable, and that a truly unselfish woman should rise above such appropriation. But the stubborn fact remains that the woman who does so rise is either indifferent to her husband or abnormal, and Mrs. Blake, at any rate, both loving and unselfish to a heroic degree, was just here inflexible. King Solomon has sung the praises of a virtuous wife. We may take it as granted that her price is far above rubies. But the man who imperils his treasure by putting into practice some theory of free-love, however good that theory may seem in his own eyes, is worse than a fool; and if he cannot endure some inconvenience for the sake of keeping the best gift that Heaven can bestow, he is unworthy to receive it.

Besides these facts, which must have forced their full attention on Blake as the years went by, time was modifying his early notions in other ways.

He was an indefatigable worker. When one realizes the immense energy expended in creative work, and that Blake carried this on day after day, one sees that much of the s.e.x energy must pa.s.s into another channel to supply the necessary power.

And lastly Blake's own spiritual life worked the change. As he learnt to see through Nature to her antetype, so he learnt to see through physical beauty. A beautiful face was a very transitory manifestation of eternal beauty. When Blake with Plato had pierced through to the unseen fount of beauty, then he was no longer a slave to externals. The pa.s.sion remained, but trans.m.u.ted, and legitimate relief was found in the continuous creation of beautiful things. Doubtless many will be disappointed that Blake's experience brought him back to traditional morality; but after all the terms on which he held it--a clean conception of s.e.x, and faithfulness to a woman worthy of all faith--were not so very narrow and rigorous. They are terms that every man ought at once to accept, if ever he should be so fortunate as to have them proposed to him.

The above ideas are culled from _The Four Zoas_ and _Jerusalem_. I do not propose any detailed a.n.a.lysis here. This I have done at some length in _Vision and Vesture_. I will merely point out in conclusion that although these poems seem to ramble all over the universe inside and outside without plan or order, there is, in fact, a connecting link in the figure of Albion.

Albion is the personification of the divine humanity; but regarded individually he is fallen man, bound with "the pale limbs of his Eternal Individuality upon the Rock of Ages." His inward eyes are closed from the Divine Vision, and so he may be reckoned dead in trespa.s.ses and sin. Blake p.r.o.nounced the natural man altogether an evil. But Albion is not an image of total depravity. Within him are all the divine faculties in addition to the five senses without, but they are closed. If he is to be redeemed, there is no need to create new spiritual faculties, but to re-create and make operative those that are already there. Hence Blake drives back of regeneration to the first generation, when man was made in the image and likeness of G.o.d. Regeneration is the renewal of the ancient image and likeness through the cross of Christ and the breath of the Divine Spirit.

Albion, like Lazarus, is sick. "He whom Thou lovest is sick. He wanders from his house of Eternity." His "exteriors are become indefinite, opened to pain, in a fierce, hungry void, and none can visit his regions."

Pained and impotent, he laments like Job:

"Oh I am nothing if I enter into judgment with Thee.

If Thou withdraw Thy breath I die, and vanish into Hades; If Thou dost lay Thy hand upon me, behold I am silent; If Thou withhold Thy hand I perish like a leaf; Oh I am nothing, and to nothing must return again.

If Thou withdraw Thy breath, behold I am oblivion."

"Eternal death haunts all my expectations. Rent from Eternal Brotherhood we die and are no more."

And so Man like a corse

"lay on the Rock. The Sea of Time and s.p.a.ce Beat round the rocks in mighty waves."

Even his limbs "vegetated in monstrous forms of death."

He is opaque and contracted. Yet mercifully there is a limit to his opacity and contraction, named by Blake Satan and Adam; else he would sleep eternally. The capacity remains to hear the Voice of the Son of G.o.d and live, and until that moment he is guarded in tender care by the "mild and gentle" Saviour.

It is Heaven's purpose to awake him.

"Then all in great Eternity, which is called the Council of G.o.d, Met as one Man, even Jesus--to awake the fallen Man.

The fallen Man stretched like a corse upon the oozy rock, Washed with the tide, pale, overgrown with the waves, Just moved with horrible dreams."

Albion like Milton must tread the difficult way of self-annihilation and judgment.

His Day of Judgment is given with marvellous wealth of detail in _The Four Zoas_, Night IX. But there are still finer pa.s.sages in _Jerusalem_ which lead Albion to his final beat.i.tude.

"Albion said: O Lord, what can I do? my selfhood cruel Marches against Thee ...

I behold the visions of my deadly sleep of six thousand years, Dazzling around Thy skirts like a serpent of precious stones and gold; I know it is my self, O my Divine Creator and Redeemer.

Jesus replied: Fear not, Albion; unless I die thou canst not live, But if I die I shall arise again and thou with Me.

This is Friendship and Brotherhood, without it Man Is Not.

Jesus said: Thus do Men in Eternity, One for another, to put off by forgiveness every sin.

Albion replied: Cannot Man exist without mysterious Offering of Self for Another? is this Friendship and Brotherhood?

Jesus said: Wouldest thou love one who never died For thee, or ever die for one who had not died for thee?

And if G.o.d dieth not for Man, and giveth not Himself Eternally for Man, Man could not exist, for Man is Love As G.o.d is Love; every kindness to another is a little Death In the Divine Image, nor can Man exist but by Brotherhood.

So saying, the Cloud overshadowing divided them asunder; Albion stood in terror, not for himself but for his Friend Divine, and Self was lost in the contemplation of faith And wonder at the Divine Mercy, and at Los's sublime honour."

Thus Blake leads man back into his ancient simplicity and unity. Order is restored; and the four mighty ones that warred within to man's distraction, led captive by Los, are content each to perform his proper function, and so to prevent any further disturbance of the peace.

That is a fine consummation, but it is not Blake's last word. Perfect man must have a perfect City to dwell in. Albion redeemed must build Jerusalem. Blake began _Milton_ with the fond contemplation of England's fields and meadows that he had loved in his youth. Calling for his weapons of war, he sang:

"I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my Hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant Land."

That vision may seem as far off as the vision of the prophet who declared, "The earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." But the world's master-spirits have never been content that a man here and there should save his soul.

Plato imagined his Republic, Christ His Kingdom of G.o.d on earth, St John his Holy City, St Augustine his City of G.o.d. And Blake, whose first dreams had been in London's great city, still dreamed that man would return to his ancient simplicity, and build Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land.

CHAPTER X

CROMEK, SIR JOSHUA, STOTHARD, AND CHAUCER

Blake had left Hayley to face poverty again in September 1803. He lodged at 17 South Molton Street, and from there he continued till December 11th, 1805, to write to the patron who had caused him so much inward disturbance. As long as he had thought it was possible to be on terms of complete friendship with Hayley he had quarrelled with him. Now he knew that such friendship was impossible. He saw Hayley as he was, and after years of self-conflict he saw himself as he was, and he recognized that there was no fundamental agreement to bridge over their differences. The effect of this discovery was to put him at peace with Hayley, and also to lower his sanguine expectations of a wide fellowship in this world.

The letters to Hayley are courteous and almost affectionate in tone.

Hayley was occupied with his _Life of Romney_, Blake was hard at work on a _Head of Romney_ and an engraving of the _Shipwreck_, after Romney. Hence there are many references to the artist from which we learn how genuine was Blake's admiration for the cla.s.sic simplicity and the skilful ma.s.sing of the lights and shades of Sir Joshua's great rival. Mr and Mrs Blake regularly send their love to Hayley and solicitations for his health till the correspondence gradually lessens, and Hayley, having no further use for Blake, gently closes it, and takes himself away out of his sight for ever. The severance was inevitable, and Blake could not be surprised. He jotted in his note-book:

"I write the rascal thanks till he and I With thanks and compliments are both drawn dry."

And so the patron pa.s.ses. The artist who has faced poverty is tasting its bitterness, stirred with the faint hope that he may find another patron who will be a corporeal friend and not a spiritual enemy. The patron in due time appeared. Robert Hartley Cromek was his name, print-jobber, book-maker, publisher, also an engraver who had studied under Bartolozzi.