Philosophers have measured mountains,
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound them; Sin and Love...
From THE AGONY by George Herbert (1593-1633)
Herbert goes on to reflect on what Sin is, and then what Love is, with "a man..." at the exact centre of the poem. But the most interesting part of the poem to me is this opening, and the distinction between two kinds of knowing. The confident, assertive fathoming, measuring, walking with a staff to heaven, is set against a knowing that begins in contemplation and the humility. Coleridge wrote, in Aids to Reflection, “There is small chance of Truth at the goal where there is not a childlike Humility at the Starting-post.” But it's more than just admitting we don't know much, it's also grasping that there is knowledge that cannot be reduced to, or grasped by, reason. There is incarnate knowledge, lived and made real in flesh and blood. This, I think, is central to Herbert's poem, and is often missed by critics who jump straight to his words on Sin and Love.