hem, and they in
It. For the time, this burden of individuality vanishes, and recognising
themselves as portions of the universal Soul, they rise upward, through
and beyond that Reason from whence the soul proceeds, to the fount of
all--the ineffable and Supreme One--and seeing It, become by that act
portions of Its essence. They speak no more, but It speaks in them, and
their whole being, transmuted by that glorious sunlight into whose rays
they have dared, like the eagle, to gaze without shrinking, becomes an
harmonious vehicle for the words of Deity, and passive itself, utters
the secrets of the immortal gods! What wonder if to the brute mass they
seem as dreamers? Be it so.... Smile if you will. But ask me not to
teach you things unspeakable, above all sciences, which the word-battle
of dialectic, the discursive struggles of reason, can never reach, but
which must be seen only, and when seen confessed to be unspeakable.
Hence, thou disputer of the Academy!--hence, thou sneering
Cynic!--hence, thou sense-worshipping Stoic, who fanciest that the soul
is to derive her knowledge from those material appearances which she
herself creates!.... hence--; and yet no: stay and sneer if you will.
It is but a little time--a few days longer in this prison-house of
our degradation, and each thing shall return to its own fountain; the
blood-drop to the abysmal heart, and the water to the river, and the
river to the shining sea; and the dew-drop which fell from heaven shall
rise to heaven again, shaking off the dust-grains which weighed it down,
thawed from the earth-frost which chained it here to herb and sward,
upward and upward ever through stars and suns, through gods, and through
the parents of the gods, purer and purer through successive lives,
till it enters The Nothing, which is The All, and finds its home at
last.'....

And the speaker stopped suddenly, her eyes glistening with tears, her
whole figure trembling and dilating with rapture. She remained for a
moment motionless, gazing earnestly at her audience, as if in hopes of
exciting in them some kindred glow; and then recovering herself, added
in a more tender tone, not quite unmixed with sadness--

'Go now, my pupils. Hypatia has no more for you to-day. Go now, and
spare her at least--woman as she is after all--the shame of finding
that she has given you too much, and lifted the veil of Isis before
eyes which are not enough purified to behold the glory of the
goddess.-