The pain that thrills us for the singing Flame Of Love, the force creative, that's the pain!

And those must suffer most to whom the sounds Of music or of words, or scents, or scenes Recall lost realms. No soul can understand Music or words in whom there is not stirred A recollection--that is genius too: A memory, and reliving hours we lived Before we looked upon this world of man."...

Then Winthrop Marion said: "I like your talk, Llewellyn George, but still what killed the girl?

What was the cause of death of Elenor Murray?

She died from syncope, that's clear enough.

The doctors tell us that in syncope The victim should be laid down, not held up.

And Barrett Bays, the bungler, held her up When she was stricken--like the man, I think!

Well, Coroner, suppose we make a verdict, And say we find that had this Barrett Bays Sustained this Elenor Murray in the war, And in her life, with friends.h.i.+p, and with faith She had not died. Suppose we further find That when he took her, held her in his arms When she had syncope, he was dull or crazed, And missed a chance to save her. We could find That had he laid her down when she was stricken She might have lived--I knew that much myself.

And we could find that had he never driven This woman from his arms, but kept her there, Before said day of August 7th, no doubt She had not died on August 7th. In short, He held her up, and should have laid her down, And drove her from him when she needed arms To hold her up. And so we find her death Was due to Barrett Bays--we censure him, Would hold him to the courts--that cannot be-- And so we hold him up for memory Contemptuous, and say his bitter words Brought on the syncope, so long prepared By what he did. We write his course unfeeling, Weak, selfish, petty, flowing from the craze Of s.e.xual jealousy, made worse by war, And universal madness, erethism Of h.e.l.lish war. And, gentlemen, one thing: Paul Robert's article in the _Dawn_ suggests Some things I credit, knowing them. We get Our notions of uncleanness from the Jews, The Pentateuch. There are no women here, And I can talk;--you know the ancient Jews Deemed s.e.x unclean, and only to be touched At sufferance of Jehovah; birth unclean, A mother needing purification after Her hour of giving birth. You know their laws Concerning adultery. Well, they've tainted us In spite of Greece. Now look at Elenor Murray: What if she went with Gregory Wenner. h.e.l.l!

Did that contaminate her, change her flesh, Or change her spirit? All this evidence Shows that it did not. But it changed this man, Because his mind was slime where snakes could breed.

But now what do we see? That woman is Essential genius, man just mechanism Of conscious thought and strength. This Elenor Is wiser, being nature, than this man, And lives a life that puts this Barrett Bays To shame and laughter. Look at her: She's brave, Devoted, loyal, true and dutiful, She's will to life, and through it senses G.o.d, And seeks to serve the cosmic soul. I think This jury should start now to raise a fund To erect a statue of her in the park To keep her name and labors fresh in mind To those who shall come after."

"And I'll sign A verdict in these words, but understand Such things are _Coram non judice_; still We can chip in our money, start the fund To build this monument."

Ritter interrupted.

The banker said: "I'll start it with a hundred,"

And so the fund was started.

Marion Resumed to speak of riffles: "In Chicago There's less than half the people speaking English, The rest is Babel: Germans, Russians, Poles And all the tongues, much rippling going on, And if we couldn't trace the riffles out From Elenor Murray, We must give this up.

One thing is sure: Look out for England, if America shall grow a separate soul.

You may have congresses, and presidents, These states, but if America is a realm.

Of tribute as to thought, America Is just a province. And it's past the time When we should be ourselves, we've wasted time, And grafted alien things upon our bole.

A Domesday of the minds that think and know In our America would give us hope, We have them in abundance. What I hate Is that crude Demos which shouts down the minds, Outvotes them, takes these silly lies that move The populace and makes them into laws, And makes a village of a great republic."

And Merival listened as the jurymen Philosophied the case of Elenor Murray, And life at large. And having listened spoke: "I like the words Llewellyn George has said.

Love is a sea which wrecks and sinks our craft, But re-creates the hands that build again; And like a tidal wave which sponges out An island or a city, lifts and leaves Fresh seeds and forms of beauty on the peaks.

The whinchat in the mud upon its claws, Storm driven from its course to sea, brings life Of animal and plant to virgin sh.o.r.es, And islands strange and new. These happenings Of Elenor Murray carry beauty forth, Unhurt amid the storm-cloud, darkness, fire, To lives and eras. And our country too, So ruined and so weltering, like a ball Of mud made in a missile by a G.o.d May bear, no less, a pearl at core, a truth, A liberty, a genius, beauty,--thrown In mischief by the G.o.d, and staining walls Of this our temple; in a day to be Dried up, cracks open, and the pearl appears To be set in a precious time beyond Our time and vision. This is what I mean: Call Elenor egoist, and make her work, And life the means of rich return to her In exaltation, pride;--a missile of mud, It carries still the pearl of her, the seed Of finer spirits. We must open eyes To see inside the mud-ball. If it be We conquered slavery of the negro through, Because of economic forces, yet We conquered it. Trade, cotton, were the mud Upon the whinchat's claws containing seeds Of liberties to be, and carried forth In mid seas of the future to sunny isles, More blest than ours. And as for this, you know The English blotted slavery from their books And left their books unbalanced in point of cash, But balanced richly in a manhood gain.

I warn you, David Barrow, pessimist, Against a general slur on life and man.

Deride the Christian ethic, if you choose, You must retain its word of benevolence; Or better, you must honor man, whose heart Leaps up to its benevolence, from whose heart The Christian doctrine of benevolence Did issue to this world. If Christian doctrine Be man-made, not a miracle, as it is All man-made, still it's out of generous fire Of human spirit; that's the thing divine....

Now how is Elenor Murray wonderful To me viewed through this ma.s.s of evidence?

Why, as the soul maternal, out of which All goodness, beauty, and benevolence, All aspiration, sacrifice, all death For truth and liberty blesses life of us.

This soul maternal, pa.s.sion to create New life and guide it into happiness, Is Mother Mary of all tenderness, All charity, all vision, rises up From its obscurity and primal force Of romance, pa.s.sion and the child, to realms, Democracies, republics; never flags To make them brighter, freer, so to spread Its ecstasy to all, and take in turn Redoubled ecstasy! The tragedy Is that this Elenor for her mother gift Is cursed and tortured, sent a wanderer; And in her death must find much clinging mud Around the pearl of her. If that be mud, Which we have heard, around her, is it mud That weights the soul of America, the pure Dream of our founders? Larger Athens, where All things should be heard gladly and considered, And men should grow, be forced to grow, because Not driven or restrained by usages, Or laws of mad majorities, but left At their own peril to work out their lives....

Well, gentlemen, I'll tell you what I've learned.

What is a man or woman but a sperm Accreted into largeness? Still a sperm In likeness, being brain and spinal cord, Fed by the glands, the thyroid and the rest, Whose secrets we are ignorant of. We know That when they fail our minds fail. But the glands Are visible and clear: but in us whirl Emotions; fear, disgust, murder or wrath, Traced back to animals as moods of flight Repulsion, curiosity, all the rest.

Now what are these but levers of our machine?

Elenor Murray teaches this to me: Build up a science of these levers, learn To handle fear, disgust, anger, wonder.

They teach us physiology; who teaches The use of instincts and emotions, powers?

All learning may be that, but what is that?

Why just a spread of food, where after nibbling You learn what you can eat, and what is good For you to eat. You'll see a different world When this philosophy of levers rules."...

Then Merival tacked round and said: "I'll show The riffles in my life from Elenor Murray: The politicians give me notice now I cannot be the coroner again.

I didn't want to be, but I had planned To go to Congress, and they say to that We do not want you. So my circle turns, And riffles back to breeding better hogs, And finer cattle. Here's the verdict, sign Your names, and I'll return it to the clerk.

THE VERDICT

"An inquisition taken for the people Of the State of Illinois here at LeRoy, County aforesaid, on the 7th of August, Anna Domini, nineteen hundred nineteen, Before me, William Merival, coroner For the said County, viewing here the body Of Elenor Murray lying dead, upon The oath of six good lawful men, the same Of the said County, being duly sworn To inquire for the said people into all The circ.u.mstances of her death, the said Elenor Murray, and by whom the same Was brought about, and in what manner, when, And where she came to death, do say upon Their oaths, that Elenor Murray lying dead In the office of the coroner at LeRoy Came to her death on August 7th aforesaid Upon the east sh.o.r.e of the Illinois River A mile above Starved Rock, from syncope, While in the company of Barrett Bays, Who held her in his arms when she was seized, And should have laid her down when she was seized To give her heart a chance to resume its beat."

The jury signed the verdict and arose And said good-night to Merival, went their way.

Next day the coroner went to Madison To look on Arielle, who had written him.