Yif this werke schal trewly be conceyvid in pureté of spirite

            The Cloud-author is not anti-intellectual.  If nowhere else, this is clear in the discussion in Ch. IV of time, which shows both great learning and great caution as to how such learning is to be applied.  The discussion seems odd at first, quaint as it were, like something best left in the Middle Ages where it first arose.  This would be a mistake. The Cloud-author writes:

  • Alle tyme that is goven to thee, it schal be askid of thee how thou haste dispendid it.  And skilful thing it is that thou geve acompte of it; for it is neither lenger ne schorter, bot even acording to one only steryng that is withinne the principal worching might of thi soul, the whiche is thi wille.  For even so many willinges or desiringes — and no mo ne no fewer — may be and aren in one oure in thi wille, as aren athomus in one oure.

            We will need to account for our time, every bit of it, as much of it as there are atoms in an hour.  Clearly the meaning of this unit of time called the atomus is an important matter.  How long, then, is an athomus?  In Bk. XIII of the Etymologies of Isidore of Seville we read the following:

  • In time, the atom is thus understood:  You divide a year, for example, into months, the months into days, the days into hours, the parts of the hours still admit of division, until you come to such a point of time and small part of a moment that it could not be produced by any pause and therefore cannot be divided.  This is an atom of time.

            In English, the third chapter of Byrhtferth’s Enchiridion (ca. 1010), an Old English text on the mathematics as applied to deriving an accurate date for Easter, we find that atomos ys þæt læste getæl and that it is defined as 1/564 of a momentum (1½ minutes), equal to 15/94 of a second.

            But so what?  Surely we cannot detect an interval of this duration, can we?  For instance, a 100 Hz television set pulsates 100 times per second, producing the illusion that the screen is shining all the time.  For human vision, then, we might propose that there are about 100 atoms per second, and this approaches the rate at which neurons in the retina emit action potentials.  On the other hand, the sensation of continuous motion exploited by movies is achieved at rates of 24 frames per second, so perhaps the atom could be considered longer. 

            But for the Cloud-author, the atom is not that unit of time than which nothing is smaller; it is that unit of time than which nothing smaller can be experienced.  This is an important point!  The abstract science of subdividing time is not his concern.  We are to gauge time in terms of that duration which admits of no perceptible subdivision in order to avoid a slackening of our attending to God within which a fatal distraction may intrude.  The atom is the duration of one stirring of the soul towards God, and we want no slack time within which anything else may arise.

            Among the things that can intrude in the unguarded interval are things called variously any fantasie, or any fals ymaginacion:

  • And here mowe men schortly conceyve the maner of this worching, and cleerly knowe that it is fer fro any fantasie, or any fals ymaginacion, or queynte opinion; the whiche ben brought in, not by soche a devoute and a meek blynde stering of love, bot by a proude, coryous, and an ymaginatiif witte.  Soche a proude, corious witte behoveth algates be born doun and stifly troden doun under fote, yif this werke schal trewly be conceyvid in pureté of spirite.

            And another word in this passage has an interesting history that may sum up the whole point here; the word is queynte, as in queynte opinion.  We may see our contemporary word quaint here, and have a hard time squaring how quaint can imply a proude, coryous, and an ymaginatiif witte and be antithetical to the devoute and a meek blynde stering of love that the author would commend to us in its place.

            What quaint used to mean was cunning and crafty in a way that, to the phallocentric mind, only a woman or a demon could truly be:

  • ‘Dere broþer’ quaþ Peres ‘þe devell is ful queynte’.    [Anon., Pierce Ploughman's Crede, ?ca. 1395]
  • Al be it at men fynde o woman … Sly, qweynte, & fals … It folwith nat swiche alle wommen be.    [Thomas Hoccleve, Lepistre Cupide, 1402]
  • Dreed & onkunnyng … with ther subtil crepyng in most queynte Ha maad my sperit  … for to feynte.    [John Lydgate, trans., Bochas' Fall of princes, ?ca. 1439]
  • The quaint, smooth Rogue, that sins against his Reason.    [Thomas Otway, The orphan; or the unhappy marriage; a tragedy, 1680]

            It may prove, then, that rogue is the best equivalent of all for queynte in this usage.  It is a fine thing to use our noggins — we possess, after all, both a knowing and a loving faculty.  But where knowing strays, disaster looms, or might.  It is best to seek love atom by atom, in pureté of spirite.  And perhaps love does not stray.

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