upwards. Oh the other hand, natural good—and all good is natural when disjoined from truth—regards the latter as something distasteful and superfluous; and often founds its claim to be, and to be considered good, on its destitution of truth; as if when this, or a regard for it, is absent the presence of goodness followed of necessity. The fact is that neither is truly itself so long as it is separate from the other. They exist as one in their divine Source, and must reunite in the recipient that goodness may be good and truth true. Then only, also, are they productive of real spiritual uses; and the countless eggs of the prolific butterfly represent the multiplication of affections of goodness and perceptions of truth through all the principles and powers of the mind, that results from the accomplishment of this union in its inner recesses.
It has been already observed that the precise correspondence of insect metamorphosis is with the change produced by regeneration. But all general and important changes are made up of particular and lesser ones, that follow the law of the greater, and are symbolised by the same correspondences. Thus, within the wonderful transformation by which from being merely natural we become spiritual, are two special metamorphoses, that affect, one the understanding, and the other the will. By the first of these knowledge is exalted into intelligence; by the second truth is transmuted into good.
There may be large stores of knowledge—accumulations of facts—in the mind, and little intelligence; but there is no intelligence that is not based upon knowledge and fact; as no edifice can be erected without building materials.
