In the first plate a man is seen entering through a door into darkness, with a lamp in his hand. This is our old friend Los entering into the dark places of Albion's mind--Albion having turned his back on "the Divine Vision." Curiously poetical suggestions are to be found in the title-page, whereon a cherubim with covering wings weeps over a beautiful prostrate female. This lovely body forms the central vein of a rose leaf, and is incorporated in its vegetable life. But above the woman's head are the wings that have become atrophied, and the moon and stars, like the eyes of a peacock's feathers, are seen on them, suggesting reminiscences and possibilities of spiritual development in "Vegetative humanity" beyond verbal expression. Glanced at as a whole without discriminating the parts, this fanciful and Gothic conception bears a strange resemblance to a butterfly. Did not the Greeks find in the butterfly a symbol of the immortality of the soul and its renewal in youth, and Blake, who was so profoundly sensitive to analogies of this kind, was not likely to have created this obvious resemblance accidentally. Everything is with him significant. Is it a dryad who lies outstretched on page 23 with the rising sap of her vegetable life stirring within her fibrous extremities, and awakening her to some dim half-painful consciousness. And below her, what hints of strange buried gnomic life, of Titans convulsively heaving like volcanoes in the dark earth, of creatures begotten of rocks and tree-roots, living like the suckers of plants in the fissures and crannies of deep strata! Again, on page 33 appears the beautiful weird fantasy that I have named a dryad. The sun and the moon shine on her simultaneously, and her rudimentary limbs appear now to be branches and again to be embryonic wings. A sort of vampire bat is poised above her. At the top of the same page a man with the world under his foot like a stool would seem to have been saved fainting in the arms of an effulgent divine Being from some threatening danger. I pondered long over this design before finding the clue, which I now believe is to be found in these words, on the previous page, in "Jerusalem": "The reasoning spectre stands between man and his immortal imagination." On Plate 53 is represented a woman sitting enthroned on a sunflower, her double wings form a sort of baldachino above her head. She has a triple tiara from which flames arise in a pyramidal shape, and the sun, the moon, and the stars are contained in her vast wings. The vegetative human has blossomed in the sunflower of spiritual life. No longer "the starry heavens are fled from the mighty limbs of Albion," but instead of separation there is a large union. "In every bosom a universe expands," and "everything exists in the human imagination," are words which help to explain this curious design. [Illustration: PRINTED PLATE (UNCOLOURED), FROM "JERUSALEM, THE EMANATION OF THE GIANT ALBION." 1804]