Ardath: The Story of a Dead Self - Part 26
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Part 26

Theos hesitated,--his eyes wandered involuntarily to the flowing tide, which now with the fully risen sun seemed more than ever brilliant and lurid in its sanguinary hue.

"Strange things have been said of late concerning Al-Kyris,--" he answered at last, slowly and after a thoughtful pause,--"Things that, though wild and vague, are not without certain dark presages and ominous suggestions. This crimson flood may be, as you say, the natural effect of purely natural causes,--yet, notwithstanding this, it seems to me a singular phenomenon--nay, even a weird and almost fatal augury?"

His companion laughed--a gentle, careless laugh of amused disdain.

"Phenomenon! ... augury! ..." he exclaimed shrugging his shoulders lightly ... "These words, my young friend, are terms that nowadays belong exclusively to the vocabulary of the uneducated ma.s.ses; we,--and by WE, I mean scientists, and men of the highest culture,--have long ago rejected them as unmeaning and therefore unnecessary. Phenomenon is a particularly vile expression, serving merely to designate anything wonderful and uncommon,--whereas to the scientific eye, there is nothing left in the world that ought to excite so vulgar and barbarous an emotion as wonder, . . nothing so apparently rare that cannot be reduced at once from the ignorant exaggerations of enthusiasm to the sensible level of the commonplace? The so-called 'marvels' of nature have, thanks to the advancement of practical education, entirely ceased to affect by either surprise or admiration the carefully matured, mathematically adjusted, and technically balanced brain of the finished student or professor of Organic Evolution,--and as for the idea of 'auguries' or portents, nothing could well be more entirely at variance with our present system of progressive learning, whereby Human Reason is trained and taught to pulverize into indistinguishable atoms all supernatural propositions, and to gradually eradicate from the mind the absurd notion of a Deity or deities, whom it is necessary to propitiate in order to live well. Much time is of course required to elevate the mult.i.tude above all desire for a Religion,--but the seed has been sown, and the harvest will be reaped, and a glorious Era is fast approaching, when the free-thinking, free-speaking people of all nations shall govern themselves and rejoice in the grand and G.o.d-less Light of Universal Liberty?"

Somewhat heated by the fervor of his declamatory utterance, he pa.s.sed his hand among his straight locks, whether to cool his forehead, or to show off the numerous jewelled rings on his fingers, it was difficult to say, and continued more calmly:

"No, young sir!--the color of this river,--a color which, I willingly admit, resembles the tint of flowing human blood,--has naught to do with foolish omens and forecasts of evil,--'tis simply caused by the influx of some foreign alluvial matter, probably washed down by storm from, the sides of the distant mountains whence these waters have their rising,--see you not how the tide is thick and heavy with an unfloatable cargo of red sand? Some sudden disturbance of the soil,--or a volcanic movement underneath the ocean,--or even a distant earthquake, . . any of these may be the reason."...

"May be?--why not say MUST be," observed Theos half ironically, "since learning makes you sure!"

His companion pressed the tips of his fingers delicately together, as though blandly deprecating this observation.

"Nay, nay!--none of us, however wise, can say 'MUST BE'"--he argued suavely--"It is not,--strictly speaking,--possible in this world to p.r.o.nounce an incontestable certainty."

"Not even that two and two are four?" suggested Theos, smiling.

"Not even that!"...replied the other with perfect gravity--"Inasmuch as in the kingdom of Hypharus, whose borders touch ours, the inhabitants, also highly civilized, do count their quant.i.ties by a totally different method; and to them two and two are NOT four, the numbers two and four not being included in their system of figures. Thus,--a Professor from the Colleges of Hypharus could obstinately deny what to us seems the plainest fact known to common-sense,--yet, were I to argue against him I should never persuade him out of his theory,--nor could he move me one jot from mine. And viewed from our differing standpoints, therefore, the first simple multiplication of numbers could never be proved correct beyond all question!"

Theos glanced at him in wonder,--the man must be mad, he thought, since surely any one in his senses could see that two objects placed with other two must necessarily make four!

"I confess you surprise me greatly, sir!"--he said, and, in spite of himself, a little quiver of laughter shook his voice.. "What I asked was by way of jest,--and I never thought to hear so simple a subject treated with so much profound and almost doubting seriousness!

See!"--and he picked up four small stones from the roadway--"Count these one by one, . . how many have you? Surely even a professor from Hypharus could find no more, and no less than four?"

Very deliberately, and with unruffled equanimity, the other took the pebbles in his hand, turned them over and over, and finally placed them in a row on the edge of the bal.u.s.trade near which he stood.

"There SEEM to be four, . ." he then observed placidly--"But I would not swear to it,--nor to anything else of which the actuality is only supported by the testimony of my own eyes and sense of touch."

"Good heavens, man!" cried Theos, in amazement,--"But a moment since, you were praising the excellence of Reason, and the progressive system of learning that was to educate human beings into a contempt for the Supernatural and Spiritual, and yet almost in the same breath you tell me you cannot rely on the evidence of your own senses! Was there ever anything more utterly incoherent and irrational!"

And he flung the pebbles into the redly flowing river with a gesture of irritation and impatience. The scientist,--if scientist he could be called,--gazed at him abstractedly, and stroked his well-shaven chin with a somewhat dejected air. Presently heaving a deep sigh, he said:

"Alas, I have again betrayed myself! ... 'tis my fatal destiny! Always, by some unlooked-for mischance, I am compelled to avow what most I desire to conceal! Can you not understand, sir,"--and he laid his hand persuasively on Theos's arm,--"that a Theory may be one thing and one's own private opinion another? My Theory is my profession,--I live by it!

Suppose I resigned it,--well, then I should also have to resign my present position in the Royal Inst.i.tutional College,--my house, my servants, and my income. I advance the interests of pure Human Reason, because the Age has a tendency to place Reason as the first and highest attribute of Man,--and it would not pay me to p.r.o.nounce my personal preference for the natural and vastly superior gift of Intellectual Instinct. I advise my scholars to become atheists, because I perceive they have a positive pa.s.sion for Atheism, and it is not my business, nor would it be to my advantage to interfere with the declared predilections of my wealthiest patrons. Concerning my own ideas on these matters, they are absolutely NIL, ... I have no fixed principles,--because"--and his brows contracted in a puzzled line--"it is entirely out of my ability to fix anything! The whole world of manners and morals is in a state of perpetual ferment and consequent change,--equally restless and mutable is the world of Nature, for at any moment mountains may become plains, and plains mountains,--the dry land may be converted into oceans, and oceans into dry land, and so on forever. In this incessant shifting of the various particles that make up the Universe, how can you expect a man to hold fast to so unstable a thing as an idea! And, respecting the testimony offered by sight and sense, can YOU rely upon such slippery evidence?"

Theos moved uneasily,--a slight shiver ran through his veins, and a momentary dizziness seized him, as of one who gazing down from some lofty mountain-peak sees naught below but the white, deceptive blankness of a mist that veils the deeper deathful chasms from his eyes. COULD he rely on sight and sense...DARED he take oath that these frail guides of his intelligence could never be deceived? ...

Doubtfully he mused on this, while his companion continued:

"For example, I look an arm's length into s.p.a.ce, . . my eyes a.s.sure me that I behold nothing save empty air,--my touch corroborates the a.s.sertion of my eyes,--and yet, . . Science proves to me that every inch of that arm's length of supposed blank s.p.a.ce is filled with thousands of minute living organisms that no human vision shall ever be able to note or examine! Wonder not, therefore, that I decline to express absolute confidence in any fact, however seemingly obvious, such as that two and two are four, and that I prefer to say the blood-red color of this river MAY be caused by an earth-tremor or a land-slip, rather than positively a.s.sert that it MUST be so; though I confess that, as far as my knowledge guides me, I incline to the belief that 'MUST be' is in this instance the correct term."

He sighed again, and rubbed his nose perplexedly. Theos glanced at him curiously, uncertain whether to laugh at or pity him.

"Then the upshot of all your learning, sir, . ." he said, . . "is that one can never be quite certain of anything?"

"Exactly so!"--replied the pensive sage with a grave shake of his head,--"Judged by the very finest lines of metaphysical argument, you cannot really be sure whether you behold in me a Person or a Phantasm!

You THINK you see me,--I THINK I see you,--but after all it is only an IMPRESSION mutually shared,--an impression which like many another, less distinct, may be entirely erroneous! Ah, my dear young sir!--education is advancing at a very rapid rate, and the art of close a.n.a.lysis is reaching such a pitch of perfection that I believe we shall soon be able logically to prove, not only that we do not actually exist, but moreover that we never have existed! ... And herein, as I consider, will be the final triumph of philosophy!"

"A poor triumph!"--murmured Theos wearily. "What, in such a case, would become of all the n.o.bler sentiments and pa.s.sions of man,--love, hope, grat.i.tude, duty, ambition?"

"They would be precisely the same as before"--rejoined the other complacently--"Only we should have learned to accept them merely as the means whereby to sustain the IMPRESSION that we live,--an impression which would always be agreeable, however delusive!"

Theos shrugged his shoulders. "You possess a peculiarly const.i.tuted mind, sir!"--he said--"And I congratulate you on the skill you display in following out a somewhat puzzling investigation to almost its last hand's-breadth of a conclusion,--but.. pardon me,--I should scarcely think the discussion of such debatable theories conducive to happiness!"

"Happiness!".. and the scientist smiled scornfully,--"'Tis a fool's term, and designates a state of being that can only pertain to foolishness! Show me a perfectly happy man, and I will show you an ignorant witling, light-headed, hardhearted, and of a most powerfully good digestion! Many such there be now wantoning among us, and the head and chief of them all is perhaps the most popular numskull in Al-Kyris, . . the Poet,--bah! ... let us say the braying Jack-a.s.s in office,--the laurelled Sah-luma!"

Theos gave an indignant start,--the hot color flushed his brows, . .

then he restrained himself by an effort.

"Control the fashion of your speech, I pray you, sir!" he said, with excessive haughtiness--"The n.o.ble Laureate is my friend and host,--I suffer no man to use his name unworthily in my presence!"

The sage drew back, and spread out his hands in a pacifying manner.

'Oh, I crave your pardon, good stranger!"--he murmured, with a kind of apologetic satire in his acrid voice,--"I crave it most abjectly! Yet to somewhat excuse the hastiness of my words, I would explain that a contempt for poets and poetry is now universal among persons of profound enlightenment and practical knowledge..."

"I am aware of it!" interrupted Theos swiftly and with pa.s.sion--"I am aware that so-called 'wise' men, rooted in narrow prejudice, with a smattering of even narrower logic, presume, out of their immeasurable littleness, to decry and make mock of the truly great, who, thanks to G.o.d's unpurchasable gift of inspiration, can do without the study of books or the teaching of pedants,--who flare through the world flame-winged and full of song, like angels pa.s.sing heavenward,--and whose voices, rich with music, not only sanctify the by-gone ages, but penetrate with echoing, undying sweetness the ages still to come!

Contempt for poets!--Aye, 'tis common!--the petty, boastful pedagogues of surface learning ever look askance on these kings in exile, these emperors masked, these G.o.ds disguised! ... but humiliated, condemned, or rejected, they are still the supreme rulers of the human heart,--and a Love-Ode chanted in the Long-Ago by one such fire-lipped minstrel outlasts the history of many kingdoms!"

He spoke with rapid, almost unconscious fervor, and as he ended raised one hand with an enthusiastic gesture toward the now brilliant sapphire sky and glowing sun. The scientist looked at him furtively and smiled,--a bland, expostulatory smile.

"Oh, you are young!--you must be very young!" he said forbearingly..

"In a little time you will grow out of all this ill-judged fanaticism for an Art, the pursuance of which is really only wasted labor! Think of the absurdity of it!--what can be more foolish than the writing of verse to express or to encourage emotion in the human subject, when the great aim of education at the present day is to carefully eradicate emotion by degrees, till we succeed in completely suppressing it! An outburst of feeling is always vulgar,--the highest culture consists in being impa.s.sively equable of temperament, and absolutely indifferent to the attacks of either joy or sorrow. I should be inclined to ask you to consider this matter more seriously, and from the strictly common-sense point of view, did I not know that for you to undertake a course of useful meditation while you remain is Sah-luma's companionship would be impossible, . . quite impossible! Nevertheless our discourse has been so far interesting, that I shall be happy to meet you again and give you an opportunity for further converse should you desire it, . . ask for the Head Professor of Scientific Positivism, any day in the Strangers' Court of the Royal Inst.i.tutional College, and I will at once receive you! My name is Mira-Khabur,--Professor Mira Khabur...at your service!"

And laying one hand on his breast he bowed profoundly.

"A Professor of Positivism who is himself never positive!"--observed Theos with a slight smile.

"Ah pardon!" returned the other gravely--"On the contrary, I am always positive! ... of the UNpositiveness of Positivism!"

And with this final vindication of his theories he made another stately obeisance and went his way. Theos looked after his tall, retreating figure half in sadness, half in scorn. This proudly incompetent, learned-ignorant Mira-Khabur was no uncommon character--surely there were many like him!

Somewhere in the world,--somewhere in far lands of which the memory was now as indistinct as the outline of receding sh.o.r.es blurred by a falling mist, Theos seemed painfully to call to mind certain cold-blooded casuists he had known, who had attempted to explain away the mysteries of life and death by rule and line calculations, and who for no other reason than their mathematically argued denial of G.o.d's existence had gained for themselves a temporary, spurious celebrity.

Yes! ... surely he had met such men, . . but WHERE? Realizing, with a sort of shock, that he was quite as much in the dark as ever with regard to any real cognizance of his former place of abode and the manner of life he must have led before he entered this bewildering city of Al-Kyris, he roused himself abruptly, and resolutely banishing the heavy thoughts that threatened to oppress his soul, he began without further delay to direct his steps towards Sah-luma's palace.

He glanced once more at the river before leaving the embankment,--it was still blood red, and every now and then, between the sluggish ripples, mult.i.tudes of dead fish could be seen drifting along in shoals, and tangled in nets of slimy weed that at a little distance looked like the floating tresses of drowned women.

It was an uncanny sight, and though it might certainly be as the wise Mira Khabur had stated, the purely natural effect of purely natural causes, still those natural causes were not as yet explained satisfactorily. An earthquake or land-slip would perhaps account sufficiently for everything,--but then an inquiring mind would desire to know WHERE the earthquake or land-slip occurred,--and also WHY these supposed far-off disturbances should thus curiously affect the river surrounding Al-Kyris? Answers to such questions as these were not forthcoming either from Professor Mira-Khabur or any other sagacious pundit,--and Theos was therefore still most illogically and unscientifically puzzled as well as superst.i.tiously uneasy.

Turning up a side street, he quickened his pace, in order to overtake a young vendor of wines whom he perceived sauntering along in front of him, balancing a flat tray, loaded with thin crystal flasks, on his head. How gloriously the sunshine quivered through those delicately tinted gla.s.s bottles, lighting up the glittering liquid contained within them!--why, they look more like soap-bubbles than anything else!

... and the boy who carried them moved with such a lazy, noiseless grace that he might have been taken for a dream-sylph rather than a human being!

"Hola, my lad!" called Theos, running after him.. "Tell me,--is this the way to the palace of the King's Laureate?"

The youth looked up,--what a beautiful creature he was, with his brilliant, dark eyes and dusky, warm complexion!

"Why ask for the King's Laureate?" he demanded with a pretty scorn,--"The PEOPLE'S Sah-luma lives yonder!"--and he pointed to a ma.s.s of towering palms from whose close and graceful frondage a white dome rose glistening in the clear air,--"Our Poet's fame is not the outgrowth of a mere king's favor, 'tis the glad and willing tribute of the Nation's love and praise! A truce to monarchs!--they will soon be at a discount in Al-Kyris!"

And with a flashing glance of defiance, and a saucy smile, he pa.s.sed on, easily sauntering as before.