david hill

Through all men’s hearts thy love shall sink and float;
Till every feeling false, and thought unwise,
Selfish, and seeking, shall, sternly disused,
Wither, and die, and shrivel up to nought;
And Christ, whom they did hang ‘twixt earth and skies,
Up in the inner world of men arise.

GM

I scent Thy spring, I feel the eternal air,
Warm, soft, and dewy, filled with flowery eyes,
And gentle, murmuring motions everywhere—
Of life in heart, and tree, and brook, and moss;
Thy breath wakes beauty, love, and bliss, and prayer,
And strength to hang with nails upon thy cross.

GM

Read the story here.
2 renditions by Durer (click on image to enlarge);

Troubled soul, thou art not bound to feel, but thou art bound to arise. God loves thee whether thou feelest or not. Thou canst not love when thou wilt, but thou art bound to fight the hatred in thee to the last. Try not to feel good when thou art not good, but cry to Him who is good. He changes not because thou changest. Nay, he has an especial tenderness of love towards thee for that thou art in the dark and hast no light, and his heart is glad when thou dost arise and say, “I will go to my Father.” For he sees thee through all the gloom through which thou canst not see him. Will thou his will. Say to him: “My God, I am very dull and low and hard; but thou art wise and high and tender, and thou art my God. I am thy child. Forsake me not.” Then fold the arms of thy faith, and wait in quietness until light goes up in thy darkness. Fold the arms of thy Faith I say, but not of thy Action: bethink thee of something that thou oughtest to do, and go and do it, if it be but the sweeping of a room, or the preparing of a meal, or a visit to a friend. Heed not thy feelings: Do thy work.

Unspoken Sermons

Begins to gnaw itself with selfish craving;
Or, like a foul thing scarcely worth the saving,
Swoln up with wrath, desireth vengeance fine.
Haste, Lord, to help, when reason favours wrong;
Haste when thy soul, the high-born thing divine,
Is torn by passion’s raving, maniac throng.

GM

(click to enlarge)
Here is the sequel to the previous scene (St James and the Magician Hermogenes). The reversal has taken place, as indicated by the Latin caption: “God granted the Saint’s prayer that the magician should be torn apart by the demons”. His fall is in full swing now. Recognizably the same as in the previous engravings are the magician and his chair, now topsy-turvy. The Saint too is essentially the same: hat, halo, staff, hand gesture, and general posture. Differences are obvious among the demons, some of whom take part in the gruesome “come-downance”administered to their erstwhile dictator. The remainder are, as it were, otherwise occupied. Comparing this “after”with the “before”picture, one may feel the demons to be protean, transient, melting incessantlyfrom one horrible guise to another. While this may be interpreted as the old “good guy licks bad guy” story – some other interpretations are;

1) it is an allegory that “the make believe kermis (circus) scene Vanity Fair, this world of human folly, will be overthrown by its own vices, which are but agents of Gods will”(Adriaan Barnouw).

2) Tolnay, on the other hand, finds this to be “a satire on the abuses of Inquisition” and a hidden argument for Bruegel’s own “religious-universalist theism which stands above the sects.”
In support of the later interpretation, we note ecclesiastics looking on approvingly from the door behind St. James on the right. Tolney calls them “blind figures, outwordly holy…who witness the murder of their fellow man with solemn seriousness, as if they were seeing a holy act.”
Hermogenes , falling upside down, appears to be “done in”. As a precaution, Tolnay suggests, Bruegel disguised this event as a theatrical scene (jugglers, performers, acrobats, carnival characters, and the sideshow announcement hanging like a flag from the back wall left center). It may be noted that dimly through the window, just to the left of the flagstaff, appear several faces of typical Flemish people, looking on, as if in amusement.

Whatever thing I dream, invent or feel,
Thou art the heart of it, the atmosphere.
Thou art inside all love man ever bore;
Yea, the love itself, whatever thing be dear.
Man calls his dog. he follows at his heel,
Because thou first art love, self caused, essential, mere.

GM