The fact that much of the difference in intellectual capacity so strongly characterizing different individuals arises from their various powers over the flow and logical association of ideas, has scarcely elicited the attention it so well deserves. It is of immense importance in the history of mental development. If an individual connects his ideas with difficulty, or can continue to chain them in rational sequence only with the most laborious efforts, he will have either a dull and heavy, or flighty and illogical, mind.
If another has great trouble in modifying or arranging the association of ideas which arise spontaneously in the soul, he will suffer himself to be ruled by them, in place of exercising rational domination over them; he will pursue every chimera; he will trust every impulse; he will but dream, even when he tries to think; and will be of a weak and fickle, but obstinate and self-opinionated, intellect. His whole exhaustive logic will consist in clothing in exact and reiterated assertions the heterogeneous order in which ideas are arbitrarily, accidentally, and spontaneously associated in his own imagination.
Another will associate his ideas in logical sequence, yet with startling rapidity; in a manner and through subtle relations quite unknown to common men, incapable of such vivid, rational, and consequential combinations; and will, in consequence, be a man of clear and vivid intellect.
The wonderful faculty of improvisation so often seen in Italy, is an example of the power of appropriate and rapid association. There is no doubt that this power is susceptible of development and cultivation, and that much that is brilliant in intuition is lost through the want of it. In spite of this, no system has as yet been devised for its culture. Let him who would labor for the real improvement of humanity think of it, write for it, and aid us in its development: as the law of internal unity with regard to the immense range of possible associations is so vital to our moral well being, so essential to our intellectual sanity, let our deepest thinkers devote themselves to its culture in the race!
We may distinctly trace the intuitive strivings of the human spirit for unity even in the theology of nations without revelation. In one of the ancient fragments of Greek poetry known as Orphic Hymns, we find them thus articulated:
'Jupiter is the First and Last; Jupiter is man and immortal Virgin; Jupiter is the base of Earth and Heaven; Jupiter is the living breath of all beings; Jupiter is the source of Fire; the root of the Sea; Jupiter is the Sun and Moon; Jupiter is King of the universe; He created all things; He is a Living Force; a God; the Heart of all that is;—a supernal Body which embraces all bodies, fire, water, earth, air, night, day, with Metis the first Generatrix, and Love, full of magic. All that is, is contained in the immense Body of Jupiter.'
The reader will not fail to observe how much this Greek hymn resembles in its spirit the extract we have already given him from the Vedas; how closely it coincides with the transcendental philosophy of the Hindoos.
But the idea of God, vague and indeterminate apart from revelation, soon lost its pantheistic unity in the wildest polytheistic variety. The primitive idea of unity, passing through the distorting prism of the fallen and corrupt human imagination, was divided, decomposed, clothed in a thousand colors and forms to allure and satisfy the senses. Thus there was no part of nature without its appropriate god, invested with supreme power over the class of being subjected to its care. No one had ever seen any one of these gods, but the people had no doubt of their existence. Names in close accordance with their separate functions were given them; these names became symbols destined to represent the different active principles of the physical world.
Thus in their literary and sacred language they substituted the names of Jupiter, Hyades, Hamadryads, Apollo, for those of Air, Fountains, Forests, and Sun. Nature almost disappeared under this traditionary language, which, giving play to the lighter fancy, chilled the imagination, and singularly limited the view. Indeed, it so amused and allured the fancy by its diversity that the mind scarcely cared to rise from this fantastic and grotesque world to seek the sublime principles of Infinity, of Unity. If the ancients had regarded nature as a vast system of signs designed to manifest the ideas of the Great Artist; if they had at all understood the marvellous Unity of the Divine Works, it would have been worse than idle in them to have invented a language which thus lowered nature, robbing it of its solemn majesty, its august dignity. As all these divinities had the human figure, God was banished from His own universe, man everywhere substituting his own personality. Speaking of the great dearth of vivid descriptions of natural scenery among the ancients, Chateaubriand says: 'It must not be supposed that men as full of sensibility as the ancients wanted eyes to see nature, or talent to depict it, if some powerful cause had not blinded and misled them; this cause was their mythology, which, peopling the universe with graceful phantoms, robbed creation of its solemnity, of its sublime repose. Christianity came—and fauns, satyrs, and wanton nymphs disappeared; the grottos regained their holy silence; the dim woods their mystic reveries; the vast forests their vague and sublime melancholy; the streams overturned their petty urns to drink only from the mountain tops, to pour forth only the waters of the abyss. The true and One God, in reappearing in His own mystical works, again breathed through the voice of nature the secret thrill of His perfect Unity, His incomprehensible Infinity.'
'Earth outgrows the mythic fancies
Sung beside her in her youth;
And those debonaire romances
Sound but dull beside the truth.
Phœbus' chariot race is run!
Look up, poets, to the Sun!
Pan, Pan is dead.