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“Our love for our neighbour may proceed from him and travel with him, but not towards him as its final end. From him, when we rejoice in his safety and well-being; with him, when we wish to have him as a fellow traveller and companion on the Lord’s way; but not resting in him, because help, hope and trust are not to be placed in a human being.”
“Our love comes from the world when we begin to admire the Creator in his works and glorify God in his creatures. It would travel with the world if, following the changeability of all temporal things, it sank in adversity or rose too high in prosperity; towards the world, if it wished to settle in the world’s empty pleasures and pursuits.”
I could repeat many such divisions and subdivisions of love. But lest I “confuse filthy, burning lust with pure and divine love”—the objection Scaliger makes against Cardan in Exercise 501—I will follow Leone Ebreo’s precise division in Dialogue 2, between Sophia and Philo, where he discusses natural, sentient and rational love, treating each separately.
Natural love or hatred is the sympathy or antipathy seen in living and lifeless creatures, in the four elements, metals and stones: “heavy things tend downwards,” as a stone towards its centre, fire upwards, and rivers towards the sea. The sun, moon and stars continually circle, “loving to fulfil the duties of their nature,” for love of perfection. This love is evident, I say, in lifeless creatures. Why does a lodestone draw iron to itself, jet attract chaff, or the ground thirst for showers, except through love? No creature can be found, Saint Jerome concludes, “that does not love something”: no tree trunk, no stone, that has not some feeling of love.
It is more evident in plants and herbs, and particularly observed in growing things: a great sympathy between vine and elm; a great antipathy between vine and cabbage, vine and olive—“the maiden flees Bromius”—and vine and bay. The vine does not love the bay “or its smell, and will kill it if it grows nearby.” Burdock and lentil cannot endure one another; olive and myrtle embrace each other with roots and branches if they grow close together.
Read more in Piccolomini, grade 7, chapter 1; Crescentius, On Agriculture, book 5; Giambattista della Porta, On Magic, book 1, in the chapter on the antipathy of plants and sympathy of elements; and Fracastoro, On Sympathy and Antipathy. On the love and hatred of planets, consult any astrologer. Leone Ebreo gives many explanations drawn from fables and supplies moral interpretations of them as well.
Sentient love is the love of animals. The same Leone Ebreo, in Dialogue 2, assigns these causes to it. First, male and female love one another for the pleasure they take in mating. Second, for the preservation of their species and the desire for offspring. Third, because they agree in being of the same kind: “A pig seems most beautiful to a pig, a dog to a dog, an ox to an ox, and an ass to an ass,” as Epicharmus held; and according to that proverb of Diogenianus:
A jackdaw always sits beside a jackdaw.
They take great delight in one another’s company:
Ant is dear to ant, cicada to cicada.
And birds of a feather will gather together. Fourth, through habit, use and familiarity: if a dog is raised with a lion and a bear, they will love one another despite their natures. Hawks, dogs and horses love their masters and keepers. I could relate many stories of this kind; but see Gillius, On the History of Animals, book 3, chapter 14; those two letters of Lipsius on dogs and horses; Aulus Gellius; and others.
Fifth, through nurturing, as when a bitch raises a kid, a hen ducklings, or a hedge sparrow a cuckoo, and so on.
The third kind is “love arising from knowledge,” as Leone calls it: rational love, “intellectual love,” which belongs properly to human beings and on which I must dwell. It appears in God, angels and human beings. God is love itself, the fountain of love, the disciple of love, as Plato calls him; the servant of peace, the God of love and peace. Be at peace with everyone, and God is with you.
Whoever reveres heaven Brings the world, and God himself, under his sway.
“Through this love,” says Gerson, “we purchase heaven and buy the kingdom of God.” This love is either within the Trinity itself—for the Holy Spirit is the love of the Father and the Son, and so on, John 3:55, 5:20 and 14:31—or directed towards us, his creatures, as in making the world.
“Love made the world”; love built cities, is “the soul of the world,” invented arts, sciences and all good things, urges us towards virtue and kindness, unites and gives life. It keeps peace on earth, calm at sea, joy in the winds and elements; drives out all fear, anger and uncouthness. “A circle from good to good”: a circle constantly returning from goodness to goodness. For love is the beginning and end of all our actions, their efficient and instrumental cause, as our poets suggest through their symbols, devices and emblems of rings, squares and the like:
If you ask what was the end and origin of things, Stop: love alone is their one cause.
If you would know the first and last of anything, Stop: love is its sole and only cause.
Love, says Leone, made the world; and afterwards, in redeeming it, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son for it,” John 3:16. “See what love the Father has shown us, that we should be called the sons of God,” 1 John 3:1. Or love appears in his gracious providence, protecting the world: either the whole of it generally, or his chosen saints and Church particularly. He keeps them as the apple of his eye, loves them freely, as Hosea 14:5 says, and holds them dear: “A human being is dearer to the gods than to himself.”
Not because we are beautiful, nor for any merit or excellence of our own—for we are utterly vile and lowly—but from his incomparable love and goodness, from his divine nature. This is Homer’s golden chain, reaching down from heaven to earth, by which every creature is linked to and depends upon its Creator. He made everything, says Moses, “and it was good”; and he loves it as good.
Angels and living souls love one another, and also us who still struggle in the Church on earth, and everyone who loves God. As sunbeams shine upon the earth from those heavenly thrones, so their good wishes shine upon us: “eager and steadfast ministers in advancing human salvation.” There is joy in heaven over every sinner who repents. They pray for us and care for our welfare, “pure spirits”:
Where charity reigns, sweet longing, And joy and love united with God.
Love belonging to mortal human beings is the third part of this subdivision, and the subject of the discussion that follows.