Part 5

“You had twisted your web together in triumph, but Wotan was dumb, for he watched a gold eagle’s feather, and he saw the lost legions come.

“Since scarce had the Northern Valkyries been whistled by Wotan home ere the eagles flew back to their eyries, on the hills of a greater Rome.

“And Wotan to Arminius leaning, whispered, ‘Though conquest is sweet you have lost your own soul in the winning, now capture the world’s in defeat.’

“You have conquered but only the bodies, and the spirit is more than the flesh; now weave for the soul and where God is deep in the heart the mesh.”

“You are all mad together,” cried the girls. “This means nothing. What is Wotan to us or we to him?” “This is the new world which we are making,” said the young men, and returned to the feet of their teacher.

But there was one girl in the town who would not give up the fight so easily. She was the daughter of the old pastor, and for her fairness and gentleness and soft beauty had been called “Schneevitchen.” Like her father before her, she had steady grey eyes, and like him she knew the old songs of Germany that (some said) were echoes of the song of the Niebelung--gold girls in the river Rhine. She alone could hold her head against the now predominant pair, and she became in consequence the object of their deadly hate. For often, when the young men crowded round her, Frau Todt geborene Krieg would look into the young men’s eyes as into a mirror and say:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, am I fairest of them all?”

And she would see in their eyes the shadow of “Schneevitchen.” She and her husband consulted together, and finally they compounded an apple of sweet essences, which she pretended had grown on a tree in the Hesperides, but to her husband she confessed that it was no such thing and that its real name was Discord. This she gave not to Snow-white to eat, but to the young men, and straightway they were poisoned. For they began to have ugly dreams and see swart visions, and always in the dark heart of them was Snow-white, no longer pure, gentle and loving, but the Lorelei drawing into her whirlpool drowning men.

There are many tales of how she came to perish in the broad river. Some say she drowned herself, some say the young men, bewildered, cast her into the waters, and others that the strangers flung her into the great body of the stream. None knows. But what is known is that with her death in that little town and in many other towns great and small the old pastor and his daughter were forgotten, and in their place ruled over hearts and minds Herr Doktor Todt and his wife, the geborene Krieg.

XXXIV

PARALLEL LINES DO NOT MEET

This is quite a different sort of story. It is about a princess who disbelieved in arithmetic.

“Was she a French princess?” inquired the publisher.

“Certainly not,” said the author, “and I cannot think why you should suppose that she was. On the contrary, she lived in Hammersmith Broadway, and took the view that there was no reason why parallel lines should not meet. ‘Why,’ she would ask, ‘should they be snobs just because they happen to be parallel? Besides,’ she would add, ‘when I draw them they do meet.’”

“But,” said a celebrated professor from the London School of Economics who had been summoned by her anxious parents to cope with the situation, “those lines which you have drawn aren’t parallel.”

“Why?” inquired the princess.

“Why?” said the professor, “but it is obvious to anybody. Can’t you see that they meet?”

“Yes,” said the princess, “I see that, but that is what I call being parallel.”

“But can’t you see that you are defying the axioms upon which all cognition is based. If parallel lines meet, then when I meet you you do not meet me.”

“I see no harm in that,” said the princess, who, to be perfectly honest, had formed a (quite unjustly) low opinion of the professor’s social gifts; “but speaking of axioms, would you agree that God is omnipotent?”

“Certainly,” said the professor, “but I do not see how----”

“Forgive me,” said the princess icily. “If God is omnipotent should he not be able to draw parallel lines that meet?”

“You will forgive my observing,” said the professor, “that if God interfered with mathematics he would cease to be God.”

“And if mathematics interfered with God?” inquired the princess.

“I cannot,” said the professor, slapping his tall hat on his head with a resounding bang, “waste my time in talking nonsense.”

“You could, however,” cried the princess after him, “give up teaching mathematics, could you not?”

XXXV

CHERCHEZ LE JUIF

“I will now,” said the author, “without more ado tell the true story of Rumpelstiltskin. It was, I think, Professor Boxer, of a celebrated university, who traced in it a complete articulation of the Hittite sun-mythology. He was not deceived by the superficial appearance of elegant nonsense. He observed that Rumpel (as he called him for short), like Jahwe, laid great stress on concealing his true name. Nor did he believe that it was likely that even Rumpel was anything other than a disguise. ‘Who?’ he effectively inquired, ‘would answer to such a name?’ Clearly, he concluded the name was one of which the utterance might be supposed to unloose the struts of the world. Now, for my part, I cannot go the whole way with Professor Boxer. That the story has a deep symbolism nobody, least of all one who makes his livelihood by the pretence, would deny. But that it is Hittite in origin, no one who has studied the customs of that astounding people the Hivites would for a moment assert. Taking first the evidence of the Rosetta stone, what do we find?”

“That you have lately been on a personally conducted tour round the British Museum,” harshly interrupted the publisher.

“And if I have,” cried the author, “am I to be forbidden the simple pleasure of showing off to my readers who have not had a similar experience? Am I to have no humanity, no expansion, no freedom? In short, am I writing this book, or are you?”

“If you are going to take that line,” said the publisher, “you will force me to inquire on whom the financial risk falls? With income-tax----”

“Very well,” said the author. “As I detest bickering, I will handle the story differently, though I am not prepared to abandon my Hivites.”

* * * * *

“That damned old Jew,” began the representative of the well-known Hittite newspaper....

“Hush,” said his Hivite colleague in the press gallery of the Convention of the Association of Peoples, “here he is.”

“It is my belief,” muttered the Hittite, “that he is the authentic Wandering Jew. He appears with his white beard and his parcel at all international meetings. I believe he is a plague-carrier! Good-day,” he added aloud, “Monsieur Moses that goes always well!”

The white-bearded old man deposited his heavy parcel with a sigh. “As usual,” he said, “I find nobody to relieve me of this.” “It would seem very heavy,” said the Hivite. “It is very heavy,” said the old Jew; “try to lift it.” The Hivite bent down and strained with all his strength. The parcel shifted not an inch.

“Heavens!” he said, looking respectfully at the old man. “You must be strong. But what is it--lead or gold?”

“The name you call the metal,” said the old man wearily, “is a matter of taste. It is at any rate difficult to support, in which, as your Hittite colleague is thinking, it is not unlike me.” “My God! what a suggestion,” said the Hittite, whose true thought had been accurately expressed. “But, putting on one side your play of spirit, tell us as among colleagues what is your object?” “To hand over my charge to one worthy to carry it,” said the old man. “And do you expect to find him among this collection of international lawmongers?” inquired the Hittite. “Where else?” said the Jew. “Do you, then,” inquired the Hivite, “believe in international law?” “I sometimes pretend,” said the old man, smilingly, “that I invented it. But pardon me! The ceremony is about to begin.”

The hall below was filled to overflowing. All the delegations were in their places, all showing in their dress that the occasion was one of a very especial character. From the press gallery, which was behind the platform on which the president and the officers of the Convention sat, could be observed the veiled statue of International Concord, which the president was that day to dedicate. Almost immediately that gentleman, followed by a train, beribboned like himself, walked solemnly on to the platform and took his seat.

The delegations settled down to listen to his speech, anticipating, as they were entitled to upon his reputation, a superb effort. But before the president could rise to speak a delegate from East Oceania rose to a point of order. He was anxious to do nothing to mar the harmony of so auspicious an occasion, but he wished to know whether any arrangements had been made as to the order of speeches. He represented a small country, but one no less passionately devoted to the cause of international concord than some of those larger ones, owing to whose ambition his country found itself so reduced.

The president rose to observe that any delegate who desired would, if he caught his eye, be heard. On such an occasion it would be suitable that representatives of all classes of nations should be heard. The representative of West Oceania rose to inquire what was meant by classes of nations. Was this an indirect gibe at the smaller nations? If so, he would observe that they had suffered enough already at the hands of their great neighbours. The president, who had risen to express the hope that delegates would not indulge in controversy, was interrupted by the delegate from Central Oceania, who observed that on behalf of his Government he indignantly repudiated the calumnies that had fallen from the lips of the last two speakers. It was owing to the strong hand of nations such as his that this glorious scene of international amity was achieved. And to drive home that assertion, let him remind the Convention that the symbol of concord chosen, namely a griffin, was the emblem of his State.

The president again endeavoured to closure the discussion, but was forced to give way to the delegate of the Eurasian Empire, who said that while he entirely agreed with the general position taken up by his Central Oceanic colleague, he was bound to correct him on a point of detail. The design which had been approved by the Commission, of which he had had the honour of acting as chairman, was not a griffin, but the bull of Melem-to-Pek, his country’s ensign. The Trans-Oceanic delegate demanded the word. Upon its being granted, he remarked that not for the first time had the Eurasian Empire endeavoured to confuse the issue. As the result of what he was bound to call an unfortunate alliance with the Hivites--contrary to the spirit of the international tables--that empire believed that with its ally it could dictate to the whole world. Fortunately, however, those who, like his country and their friends, the Hittites, believed in internationalism were not prepared to stand by and see this robber combination---- The Hivite and Eurasian delegates leapt to their feet amid a growing volume of cries. When order was restored it was observed that the delegate of Prester John had the floor. He desired simply to observe that the symbol, for what it was worth, was merely a dragon, the sign of the oldest culture in the world. When the barbarians of the West----

The tumult was renewed, and this time the president found himself quite unable to cope with the situation. At last a member of the secretariat in the gallery had the brilliant idea of tugging at the cord which suspended the veil. As it fell a sudden hush fell on the crowd, and then as the gold image was revealed the cries were renewed: “The Griffin of Central Oceania,” “The Bull of Melem-to-Pek,” “The Gold Dragon,” “The Hesperidan Sheep.”

“Silence!” roared a voice of thunder.

All the delegates paused in utter astonishment and looked at the press gallery, whence this outrageous interjection had proceeded. There they observed the old Jew standing transfigured and terrible.

“Fools,” he said, “do you not see that it is a golden calf?” and with that, before anyone could speak or interfere, he drew a shining object from his parcel and aimed it at the image, shattering it to fragments.

In a moment the whole Convention were on their feet, shouting and cursing. A rush was made for the gallery, but the old Jew was not to be found. When those on the platform examined the missile it was discovered to be a great stone tablet inscribed with Hebrew characters. Unfortunately there was nobody present who knew that language. Some, however, said that it was a rival code of honour known among the Jews as “The Ten Points” or “The Ten Commandments,” but others (and these were the large majority) saw in it only a further proof of the well-known Jewish determination to destroy civilisation.

On the motion of the Philistine delegation, it was unanimously decided to exclude the Jews from the Association of Peoples. International harmony having thus been restored, the president was enabled to deliver his speech, which, it was generally agreed, was a magnificent contribution to the cause of international peace and goodwill.

XXXVI

[Greek: GNÔTHI SEAUTON]

They had shown the newcomer all the sights of the place--Peter’s great keys, the alabaster walls, the sword of Michael, and Gabriel’s last trumpet. At last they brought him to the greatest wonder of all--the glass, in which all his life he had seen darkly. “Look,” they said, “for now you shall see God face to face.” He looked at first with unspeakable awe, then with surprise, last with bitter disappointment. “I am not judged worthy,” he said, turning sorrowfully away, “I saw nothing but myself.”

XXXVII

E PUR SI MUOVE

It is not easy to exaggerate the emotion excited in the better elements in the simian world when Bandar, the umbrella-faced ape, announced his theory that apes were evolved from men. It was not merely the blasphemous suggestion that the great Baboon had not, as inspired writing showed, made apes in his own image. That was bad enough, though it tended to upset the more serious-minded rather than the general. But what outraged the public taste and wounded it in its tenderest point was the impudent and indeed grossly indelicate contention that there had been a time when monkeys had no tails. What made it worse, however, was the damnable plausibility of it all. Even the most prejudiced could hardly fail to recognise with a shudder of disgust faint far-off simian traits, loathsomely humanised, but still distinguishable in men. To take physique first. It was perhaps true that the mean, chinless face was entirely wanting in the higher bestiality. Yet it could not be denied that men had been observed (notably during the recent disturbances, when they had so continually killed one another) with a promise of the true prognathous chin. Then as to the withered little arms and the long deformed lower limbs, with their flattened pads, it could not be disputed that in their cities the men grew more ape-like in both respects, with arms increasingly long and grasping and legs proportionally short and unmanlike. It was true that no instance had ever been known of a man with a tail. But on the other hand, Bandar pointed out that among certain degenerate types of the larger ape, as for example the Mandril, tails were far less developed than among the better sort. Then as to habits and manners. Here the likeness was even more disconcerting. First, in the matter of food, it was true that for the most part they had the horrible human habit of flesh-eating, but it was known that some had so far approached the ape as to subsist on fruit and vegetables. In the mode of life they had the ape-like custom of crowding together. It was true that when they did so collect they were sufficiently unapelike to destroy all trees and living things and to surround themselves with unnatural noise and light. It must not be forgotten, however, that those in the highest regard (and therefore nearest to the ape) tended not to live in such communities, but to have large separate dwellings in whose neighbourhood the trees and fields were left unmolested. In the matter of marriage customs there were, it was true, wide variations. Some races had the human habit of several wives, or of changing them frequently. On the other hand, many had achieved the monkey state of monogamy. It was unhappily true that they were incapable of intelligent communication. But it was perhaps not too much to suppose that the queer discordant cries that proceeded from their lips when several were in company had some meaning. Finally, he came to their settled habit of exterminating one another for every sort of cause and lack of cause. Here in truth they were least bestial. But could it be urged that the apes never fell to manlike levels in this particular?...

So the formidable argument continued. A hurried Convention of Elders was summoned, at which it was decided, first, to let it be known that this doctrine was damnable heresy, and secondly, to end the danger to the simian world by the execution of the heretic. Both decisions were duly carried out, and both were widely applauded. But it was like the obstinate blasphemy of Bandar to exclaim as they slew him:

“E pur si muove,” by which he was understood to mean that in so acting the apes had behaved exactly like men.

XXXVIII

THE GAME AND THE CANDLE

“I have invented a new game,” said the Spirit of Evil. “Child,” said the Spirit of Good, smiling benevolently, “will you never grow up? Ah well, go away and play with it.”

“But,” said the Spirit of Evil, deeply disappointed, “it won’t be any fun unless I tell you about it.”

“How long will it take?” inquired the Spirit of Good cautiously.

“Only a million or two years at most,” said the Spirit of Evil.

“In that case I will listen. What do you call it, child?”

“I call it man,” said the Spirit of Evil, and he described humanity to the Spirit of Good.

“You horrid, disgusting little wretch,” said the Spirit of Good after she had listened patiently for a few thousand centuries. “Stop that game at once. I won’t have it.”

“But, Good darling!” said Evil, “you did enjoy it when they believed that you had invented them, now didn’t you?”

“It certainly was funny,” said Good with a gentle sigh, “but all the same, I rather blame myself for having listened.”

“But it was only a game,” said Evil.

“That’s true,” said Good, “but be more careful with the next one.”

XXXIX

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

When the Last Trumpet had cleared men off the earth like crumbs off a cloth, an unbelievable sweetness and freedom settled over the world. Presently all that man had spoiled was healed, and earth was a garden and God took his pleasure walking in it.

There’s a gold apple tree grows in the garden, and if God is so minded of all other trees he plucks the fruit, but at this he holds his hand and muses. The green serpent fawns about his feet. “If thou art God indeed,” he whispers, “eat.” But God bends and strokes the glittering coils.

“Do thou eat, belovéd,” says he, “and be even as I am, having knowledge of good and evil--and of thyself.” “Get thou behind me, God,” cries the serpent, and is fled through the dust of the garden like a green flame. And when the sweet laughter of God is over, all is quiet in the garden.

XL

IT TAKES TWO TO MAKE A PEACE

After the war, which he believed himself to have won, the everlasting No met, as he was travelling grandly in his great car, his defeated enemy, the everlasting Yes. This second, as became one so heavily defeated, went on foot, in rags, and seemed something of a cripple.

“Ha,” said No, “I am sorry to see you in such case, but you will not deny that even so I let you off lightly. I tremble to think what vengeance you would have exacted had you triumphed. Confess that you would have exterminated me and not limited yourself to ruining and crippling me.”

“Why,” said Yes reflectively, “I stand for acceptance. I have other names, too--Love, Hope and Charity. But as acceptance trails your shadow of refusal, so do my other names trail theirs--Hate, Despair and Unimaginativeness--and the worst of these shadows is unimaginativeness. I had dreamed, I confess, that it would be well to wipe out the shadows.”

“As I thought,” said No, “for all your specious claims you are harder of heart than I.”

“As acceptance,” said Yes, “must always be harder than refusal and life than death.”

“But,” cried No triumphantly, “you were wrong. Here go you in rags for all your lights, and here ride I in purple for all my shadows.”

“I was wrong,” said Yes, “because I was young. I did not see that I must accept you and your shadows with the rest. I was fighting not against you but against myself when I would not accept as part of myself the great refusal.”

“What!” cried No, deeply mortified and inwardly afraid, “beggar that you are, do you dare to claim that you have won?”

“I only know,” said Yes gently, “that there is no victory.”

“You canting hypocrite,” cried No, “you do not know how to take a licking.”

“It is because I do,” said Yes, “that there cannot be victory or defeat. For if the fight were ended where would you be, where I?”

“There is something in that,” said No disconsolately; “but if it be true, why should you fight? Let us make an eternal peace!”

“That would be to refuse,” said Yes.

“Damn you,” cried No, “I will have peace.”

“It takes two,” said Yes gently, “to make a peace,” and turned to limp away.

“But Yes,” cried No after him, now thoroughly dismayed, “how is all this to end?”

“Dear No,” said Yes, “it does not end.”

XLI

VICISTI GALILÆE

Down a path in the wood she came singing. The path on which she walked was itself like a song under leaves like music. The path was the echo of the song, or the song of the path. It does not matter. This was before music and the world made of music had fallen apart.

His shadow fell on the path. The song stopped; the path grew still.

“It is quiet, quiet,” she said.

“It is love,” said he.

“Something has died,” she whispered.

“And has risen from the dead,” he cried, drawing very close. “Love has conquered death.”

“Alas,” she said, taking his hand and kissing it, “before love came there was no death to conquer.”

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.