"'This is why the Romans, who conquered, not coloured races, but the mightiest white nations, could never write either great epics or great dramas. They wrote only one epic, one drama of first and to this day unparalleled magnitude: the Roman Empire. I meant to do a similar thing for Athens, but I failed. I now know why. My real enemies were not in the camp of my political adversaries, but in the theatre of Dionysus and in the schools of the philosophers. Do not, therefore,ma chère amie, begrudge the Germans their great musicians. They are really very great, and not even your greatest minds surpass, perhaps do not even equal them. Your consolation may be in this, that the Germans too will soon cease writing music worth the hearing. They now want to write quite different epics. And no nation can write two sorts of epics at a time.'
"'I am so glad to hear you say so,' said Mrs Blazing. 'It relieves me of acorvéethat I hitherto considered to be a patriotic duty. I mean, I will henceforth never attend the representations of the new school ofsoi-disantEnglish music. Inwardly I never liked it; it always appeared to me like an Englishwoman who tries to imitate thegrâceandverveof a Parisian woman, with all her easy gestures, vivacious conversation, and delicate coquetry. It will not do.
"'We English women do not shine in movement; our sphere is repose. We may be troublesome, but nevertroublante.
"'Even so is English academic music. And I now see why it must be so. It is not in us, because another force takes its place. Like all people we like to shine in that wherein we are most deficient, and the other day I was present at a scene that could hardly be more painful. At the house of a rich and highly distinguished city man I met the famous Sir Somebody Hangar, the composer. The question arose who was the greatest musician? Thereupon Sir Somebody, looking up to the beautiful ceiling of the room, exclaimed dreamily: "Music is ofveryrecent origin...." One of the gentlemen present then asked Sir Somebody whether he had ever heard the reply given to that question by the great Gounod? Sir Somebody contemptuously uttered: "Gounod? It is not worth hearing." I was indignant, and pointedly asked the gentleman to tell us Gounod's reply. The gentleman, looking at Sir Somebody with a curious smile, related:
"'Gounod, on being asked who in his opinion was the greatest musician, said: "When I was a boy of twenty, I said:moi. Ten years later I said:moi etMozart. Again ten years later I said:Mozart et moi. And now I say:Mozart."'
"This reply," said Alcibiades, "has Attic perfume in it. Having suffered so much, as I have, at the hands of musicians in my time, when dramatic writers were as much musicians as dramatists, I have in my Olympian leisure carefully inquired into the real causes of the rise of modern music.
"'You said a few moments ago,ma très spirituelle dame, that music is the art of poor classes. There is this much truth in that, that modern music has indeed been almost entirely in the hands of middle-class people. This being so, everything depends on the nature and dispositions of the middle class in a given country. In England, for instance, the middle class is totally different from that of France or that of South Germany, the home of German music. The English middle class is cold, dry,gaffeurto the extreme, afflicted with a veritable rage for outward respectability, unsufferably formalist, and deeply convinced of its social inferiority. In such a class nothing remotely resembling German or French music can ever possibly arise. Such a class furnishes excellent business men, and reliable sergeants to the officers of imperial work. But music can no more grow out of it than can a rose out of a poker.
"'This middle class is the result of British Imperialism, and this is how Imperialism has prevented and will, as long as it lasts, always prevent the rise of really fine music in the higher sense of the term. This is also why we Hellenes never achieved greater results in music. Like the English, or the Americans, we never had a realbourgeoisie, or the only possible foster-earth of great music. However,bourgeoisieis only a historic phenomenon, one that is destined to disappear, and with it will disappear all music. Mr Richard Strauss is singing its dirge.'"
When Alcibiades had finished his entertaining tale of women and music in England, the gods and heroes congratulated him warmly, and Zeus ordered that, under the direction of Mozart, all the nymphs and goddesses of the forests and seas shall sing one of the motets of Bach. This they did, and all Venice was filled with the magic songs, which were as pure as those produced by the nymph Echo in the Baptistry at Pisa. All the palaces and the churches of Venice seemed to listen with melancholy pleasure, and St Mark's hesitated to sound the hour lest the spell should be broken. When the motet was ended, the gods and heroes rose and disappeared in the heavens.
THE FIFTH NIGHT
CÆSAR ON THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
On the fifth night the gods and heroes assembled in the city of Rome. Their meeting-place was the Forum. The eternal city lay dormant around them, and Zeus, who had for the time recalled into existence the magnificent temple built in his honour, which used to adorn the incomparable centre of Roman might and splendour, sat in front of it, surrounded by the Flamines and the last Pontifex Maximus aided by the last Vestal Virgins. On thevia sacrathere was an unending flow of thronging Romans and Greeks, and Cicero was seen talking with great animation with Julius Cæsar, while Augustus seemed to chide Tacitus with mild irony. Cornelius Scipio Africanus was deeply engaged in a conversation with Pericles, and Marcus Antistius Labeo discussed law with Plato. From afar the wind brought the sounds of the bells of the Vatican, at the hearing of which all conversation stopped; and when a few minutes later a choir intoned a hymn in a neighbouring church, the Pontifex and the Flamines veiled their heads in dumb resignation, and the Vestal Virgins looked up to Zeus as if imploring him for help. A pause followed. But soon the moon rose over the majestic Palatine hill; the Graces performed a soulful dance, and finally Zeus asked Caius Julius Cæsar to entertain themwith his experiences during his third travel in England which, as he said, he had, in addition to his two landings during his mortal life, recently made after nearly two thousand years.
Cæsar, standing near the house of the Senate of ancient Rome, thus addressed the divine Assembly:
"It is, O Jupiter and all the other gods and heroes, a singular pleasure and honour to me to address you on a topic so important and interesting. When I arrived in England for the third time (—I started from Dunkerque to avoid giving offence to the 112 scholars who have, each to his complete satisfaction, proved 112 different spots on the French coast between Boulogne and Calais wherefrom I am supposed to have started for England in my mortal time—) I was received by no wilder tribe than a few customs officials, who asked me whether I had any cigars in my toga. On my denying it, they searched me, and finding none they let me go. Two hours later I arrived in London, which I found ugly beyond words. I can understand that you, O Canova, cried on seeing it. What struck me most was its surprising silence, which contrasted very strongly with the noise of Rome, or Paris. I mentioned this to a casual acquaintance, who stared at me in despair, exclaiming: 'Silence, sir? Why, the noises of London drive half of us to madness. Here, take that (—he handed me a bunch of printed papers—) read it carefully and join us.' On looking into the papers I found that they contained a prospectus of a vast 'Society for the Abatement of Street-Noises in London.'
"This made me somewhat thoughtful. It wasquite clear to me that the unattractiveness of London is owing chiefly to its lack of animation, to its silence. I soon found out that silence is the dominating institution of that country. To talk is to infringe the principal law of their language. They want to see their language noiselessly, and not to hear it. Hence they constantly read printed language on wooden paper, in a wooden style, on wooden matters. This they call 'the daily Press.' I met one of the chief writers on their most popular paper, and he assured me that the editor solemnly warns each of his contributors not to indulge in any attempt atespritor brilliancy of any sort; for, should he do so, the editor would be forced to dismiss him forthwith. All that the contributor is allowed to do is to make startling headlines, such as:
'Delicious puddings made out of wood.''New aqueducts full of milk for the people.''Discovery of wireless telegraphy among the ancient Egyptians.''Discovery of the pin-cushion to Cleopatra's needles.''Trunk murder: a man assassinates his widow.'
That same editor, on my asking him why he allowed such crying stupidities in the headlines, and nothing but the most platitudinous stuff in the body of the article, gave me the following answer:
"'My dear sir, our public has nerves but no intellect. Hence we work for sudden, rapid shocks to their nerves, and no fatigue to their intellect. They not only do not think; they do not want to think. They are practically convinced that thinkingis the perdition of all common-sense. Just let me give you an example. There is among the younger writers one whose mind is singularly suggestive and nimble. He really has something to say, and can say it well. However, unfortunately, he says it in what are, apparently, contradictory and circuitous terms. This my readers cannot grasp; it fatigues them. They complain of that man's writings as being "heavy," "hard to follow." This is the consequence of the vogue of music halls. One may say that the popular University of this country, where the average man gets most of his ideas from, is the music hall. What, then, can we editors do better than imitate the style and substance of the music hall? Shocks to the nerves—and no fatigue to the intellect.Voilà!'
"On my way home I met Columbus. He told me, and no man ever spoke with more solid right, that he was the greatest benefactor to England. But for him, who by discovering the New World placed England in the very centre of the intelligent and wealthy nations, while formerly England was somewhere on the 'other end of all the world'; but for him, he said, England could never have had her unique leverage. 'You, Cæsar,' he added, 'discovered England, as the Vikings discovered America; I did not discover it, I made it. But would you believe me that thousands and thousands of Englishmen have scarcely ever heard my name? Theyconstantly talk of their race as born to rule. But what would they have ruled without me? The ponds in Lincolnshire. You wonder at their tongue-tiedness. I will tell you what it means. The English are neither talkers nor thinkers; they are almost exclusively men of action; or used to be. They have no intellectual initiative. They have started neither the Renascence, nor the Great Discoveries of my time, nor the Reformation, or the three greatest factors in the formation of modern Europe. All this was first started by us Italians. We can both talk and think and create; but we are not good at actions. The English are good only at action. This is the be-all and end-all of their history. Have you ever seen their Parliament? Do not omit attending it. You will there learn something that no other Assembly can teach you. It rarely contains a great orator, for oratory is of little use in an Assembly with an iron party discipline, and with members every one of whom is amenable to no argument that has not had the august privilege of being born in his own mind. And since his mind brings forth none, he moves in a vicious circle!'
"'Would you not,' I asked Columbus, 'accompany me to the House of Commons?'
"'Readily,' said the great Genoese. And next day we repaired to the 'first club of the country.'
"The hall was curiously unfit for the business of a national Assembly. It is neither large, nor lightenough. The acoustics are fair, but superfluous. For, who cares very much what any member other than himself is saying? In the midst there is a porter's lodge, in which sits a gentleman in the attire of the eighteenth century. This, as behoves a conservative Roman, did not meet with my disapproval. The only objection I made was that in my opinion he ought to have been clothed in all the various costumes in use since Magna Charta. The English, and the rest of the little ones, in utter contrast to ourselves, constantly vary their dress. We preferred to vary our inner selves.
"The subject of discussion, or rather of a score or so of monologues, was one of which in my time I have had the amplest experience. They proposed to give weekly a certain sum of money to anyone of their citizens who on reaching his seventieth year had arrived at the end of his financial tether. In my day I had given away millions to the populace, and my imperial successors had gone even very much further. The common people was thereby demoralised as is everybody, even parents, who accepts, year in year out, free gifts from a third person or his children. Being demoralised, such a recipient of donations becomes inevitably the most cruel enemy of his donor. Nothing contributed more to the downfall of Rome. A nation must consist of free and financially independent citizens, or it loses its most precious asset. How frequently, O Pericles, have you said to me, how much you regretted having introduced the same injurious donations into Athens. But this is the melancholy truth of all history: one learns from history one thing only, to wit, that no statesman has ever learned anything from history.
"In the midst of my sad reflections I could yet not help being amused by the speech of one member of the governing party, who belonged to that formidable mixture of faddists, formalists, cocksure-ists, and moral precisians who have in this country an influence that we should not have given to the members of the most exalted among the Roman patricians. Much as they are laughed at, they yet have the power of striking dread into the public and instilling hesitation into the feeble nerves of statesmen. The name of the orator in question was, if I am right, Harold Gox. He said:
"'Mr Speaker, it is with a satisfaction and self-complacency new even to me that I beg to submit my remarks on a subject than which there is no greater one; a subject, sir, that has no predicate except that of immensity; an immensity, sir, that exceeds infinitude itself; and last not least, an infinitude vaster than all other infinitudes: a moral infinity. This country, sir, was built up by morals and righteousness. Righteousness, I say, sir; and I will repeat it: righteousness. How did we come by our Empire? By righteousness. How did our colonists occupy vast continents? By righteousness. What was the guiding principle even of our national debt? Righteousness, in that we contracted it mainly by paying the foreigner to help us in beating our immoral enemies. Righteousness is the A and the Z of our glorious polity.
"'We cannot help being righteous; it is in us, over us, beside, beneath, and all through us. We have sometimes tried to be unrighteous; but, sir, we could not. It is not given to us, and we have only what is given to us.
"'Well then, sir, if that be so, as it undoubtedly is, beyond the shadow of a doubt; then I venture to say that any person that opposes the present bill of Old Age Pensions cannot but be an enemy of England, in that he is an enemy of righteousness.
"'What indeed, sir, can be fairer, juster, and more equitable than that they who have laboriously saved up a few sovereigns, should share them with those that have done everything in their power to have none?
"'Where there is nothing, there is death. Can a country introduce death as a regular constituent organ of its life? What in that case would righteousness do? She would blush green with shame, sir. Nothing would remain for her but to leave this country and to go to Germany or Turkey. Could we allow such a disaster? Would it not be necessary to hold or haul her back by ropes, strings, or any other instrument of our party machinery?
"'Just, pray, represent to yourself, sir, or to any other person, the actualities of the case. Here is a man of seventy. It is a noble feat of honourable perseverance to reach that age. It is, I make bold to submit, an evident proof of the favour and countenance of The Principle of AllRighteousnessthat the man was allowed to proceed so far.
"'He has worked all such days of his long life as he did not spend in reverential contemplation of the works of the Almighty. Who can blame him for that?
"'I go much further: who can possibly blame him for having focussed his attention rather on the liquid than on the solid bodies of Creation?
"'Each man has his own way of saying prayers.
"'Now, after having thus spent a long life in what has at all times been considered the essence of life; or as the ancient Romans used to formulate it, after having acted upon the noble doctrine ofora et labora(pray and work), he finds himself landed, or rather stranded in the wilderness of penury. Sir, such a state of things is untenable, unbearable, and unrighteous.
"'I know full well that people who have never given righteousness the slightest chance persist in repeating the old fallacy, that a labourer ought to save up for a rainy day. But, pray, sir, is it not perfectly clear that this principle is of Egyptian origin, and comes therefore from a country where there is no rain?
"'In England, sir, there are 362 rainy days a year; therefore 3620 rainy days in ten years, 18,100 rainy days in fifty years. How shall, I ask you, that unfortunate labourer, or grocer, or author, save up for 18,100 days? That takes a capital of at least £25,000. Well, who has that capital? No one. The nation alone has it. Ergo, the nation must pay for the rain.
"'I have, sir, in my locker a great many shots like the preceding, but I will, out of modesty, not use them all. I will only dwell on one point. Sir, our opponents contend that the money needed for Old Age Pensions is not available unless it be taken from funds much more necessary for the public welfare. Now I ask, which are those funds? The answer I receive is that the nation needs more defensive measures against possible invasions on the part of a Continental power.
"'Sir, on hearing such nonsense one is painfully reminded of what Lord Bacon used to say: "Difficile est satiram non scribere."' (A voice from the Irish bench: 'Juvenal, and not Lord Bacon!') 'Well, Lord Percival, and not Lord Bacon, it amounts to the same.
"'An invasion? Sir, an invasion? How, for goodness' sake, do our opponents imagine such a thing to be possible? I know they say that Lord Roberts has declared an invasion of England a feasible thing. But has Lord Roberts ever invaded England? How can he know? How can anyone know?
"'They refer me to William the Conqueror. But, sir, is it not evident that William could not have done it had he not been the Conqueror? Being the Conqueror, he was bound to do it. Is there any such William amongst the Williams of the day? I looked them all up in the latestWho's Who—but not one of them came up to the requisite conditions.' (A voice: 'William Whiteley!') 'I hear, sir, the name of William Whiteley; and I reply that he is now too "Ltd." to undertake such a grand enterprise.
"'And more than anything else militating in my favour is the fact that the Germans do not so much as dream of doing this country the slightest harm. Look at the relationship between the Kaiser and the King; nephew and uncle. Who has ever heard that a nephew made war on an uncle? Take into consideration how the Kaiser behaved when lately visiting England. Did he not leave huge tips at Windsor? Did he not stroke children's cheeks? Did he not admire our houses? Who else has ever done that? He talked English all day long, and during part of the night. He read theDaily Telegraphand tookhis tub every morning. Can there be stronger symptoms of his Anglophile soul?
"'A few weeks after he left England he went so far in his predilection of everything English that he even curtailed his moustaches.
"'His moustaches, sir, these the beacons of the German Empire, the hirsute hymn of Teutonia, her anchor, her lightning rod, her salvation!
"'To talk of such a man's hostile intentions against England is to accuse Dover Cliff, High Cliffe, or Northcliffe, or any other Cliff of base treachery. No, sir, there is no need of new expenses for defence on land; and as to the sea, we have only to follow the Chief Admiral's advice and go to sleep. Our principal force consists of our power to sleep on land as well as on sea. Once asleep, we can spend nothing. In that way there remains plenty of money for the Old Age Pensions, that glorious corrective of misery, that ventilator of property, and distillator of other men's pockets. I have not a word to add; the subject itself talks to every person of sense in a thousand tongues.'
"When the man had ended," Cæsar continued, "I asked one of the officials whether the orator was the clown of the house. The official looked daggers at me. He explained in a solemn voice that the orator was a staunch Liberal and Cobraite. The latter name was, I learnt, a little mistake in pronunciation; it ought to have been Cobdenite. Cobden, I was told, was a very great man. He succeeded in passing a measure which under the circumstances of his time was not altogether bad, although it drove the people away from the plough to the factories.
"However, he, like our Gracchi, imagined thatwhat was good for his time must necessarily be good for all times. On the basis of a complete ignorance of the Continent, that is, of the Power that has always been and always will be the real regulator of the fundamental policy of England, Cobden thought he had got hold of an absolute truth, instead of a merely passing and temporary measure. Like all nations that have never gone through social and political cataclysms and are necessarily highly conservative, the English are totally lacking in historic perspective. Men of the class of Cobden, or such as the orator I had heard, are like their most renowned thinker, Herbert Spencer, absolutely devoid of historic thinking. They think in categories of quantity and matter; never in quality made by history.
"Columbus, who was with me, said:
"'You need not be unusually excited over what you see. Each nation cuts a different caper to the riddles and problems of life. The French, who used to bedes hommes, while at present alas! they are onlydes omelettes, were in their prime of an aggressive attitude to all that touched them; the Germans were of an idealising temper, while their present mood is rather a tampering ideal; the Americans are full of the exploiting fever; and the English invariably take up a posture of expectativeness.
"'They pretend to believe what the Spartan King Archidamus always said: "One cannot by reasoning disentangle the future." This attitude pays the English best. First they let it be proved by the Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, and more particularly by the French that India can be conquered, and then—they take it. Even so with Egypt, Canada,the West Indies, and South Africa. Expectativeness is their motto.
"'When I came to England trying to persuade them to help me in the discovery of America, they acted the wise Archidamus, and would not give me linen for one sail. When I had discovered it, then they took as much of it, and more than they could swallow. This method of expectativeness has had much historic quality, to use your words, O Cæsar, for a time. But I am afraid it is beginning to be worn out.
"'I for one know (and have you, and Pericles, and Joan of Arc, and Napoleon, and so many others not told me the same thing when we used to meet, at the wish of Joan, at Rheims Cathedral?), I for one know what these little ones do not even dream of, so infatuated are they with the power of Reason and Science and similar machinery, namely, that our force to forefeel things of the future is far greater, at least in some of us, than our capacity to analyse or comprehend things of the present or the past. Our whole being is not so much an upshot of the past as a projection of the future. Hence the astounding assurance with which all of us now assembled in Olympus felt in advance what later on we actually did carry out. I should have discovered America had it never existed; as I actually discovered it thinking that I discovered the eastern side of Asia.'
"I very well see," said Cæsar, "what you mean. The English have no forefeeling of things to come. They do not note that their whole situation in historic space has in the last generation completely changed, and that therefore their old method of expectativeness, which lived mainly on the blundersof other nations, has become quite obsolete. They are where we were after Zama, after the end of the Second Punic War, or the end of the third centuryB.C., as they say. So they are at the end of their second Hundred Years' War with France. But while we distinctly felt that after the Carthaginians, whom we had defeated, we were inevitably compelled to reduce the Macedonians, and not shrinking from our heavy task we did defeat them, though with tremendous effort; the English do shrink from doing what the uncommon sense of the future as well as the common sense of the present but too clearly tell them to do.
"The blunder of France and Spain which was the chief ally of England in former times, I mean, the blunder of these great nations in making war on England only at times when they had four to ten other wars on hand; that capital blunder the dominating Power of this moment will never commit.
"Germany will not embroil herself in any Continental war while fighting England. This is indisputable.
"For the first time in modern times England will be at grips with a first-class Continental Power which is in a position to concentrate all her strength on England. This completely novel situation requires completely novel methods of meeting it. Yet, the average Englishman is quite unaware of all that. What ruined mighty Macedon? Not the lack of a powerful army, since our oldest generals, such as Æmilius Paulus, trembled at the thunderlike onslaught of the famous Macedonianphalanx, or infantry. But instead of joining the Carthaginians full-heartedly while we smarted under the scourge ofHannibal, they misread the whole situation and waited, and waited, until—we were able to concentrate upon them, even to incorporate the best Greek forces in our armies, and the end was disaster for Macedon.
"Just listen to the speech now going on. The Leader of the Opposition is speaking.
"'Mr Speaker, I am broadly astonished at the statements of the hon. member for Alarmville, who has just painted the international horizon in tints of Indian ink. I cannot imagine where he takes his tints from. Does he want to pose as a political Tintoretto?'
"(Much applause—most members send for theEncyclopædia Imperialisto find out whatTintorettomeans.)
"'The horizon, as everybody knows, is only an imaginary line, and each man has his own horizon. If therefore the horizon of the hon. member be as black as jet, I have not much to say against it, and will send him my condolences. But why should he obtrude his horizon on that of all the rest of peace-loving humanity? I also have my horizon.'
"(The hon. member: 'Horizons, if you please.')
"'Horizons? More than one horizon? Perhaps; it probably needs more than one to descend to that of the hon. member.'
"(Opposition members: 'Deucedly clever, by Jove!')
"'On my horizon I see no cloud, no vapours, nofoundations of any belief in storms or tempests of any kind. What conceivable reason should the Germans have for attacking us? I fail, I utterly fail to see it. I know that my adversaries say that whatever reasons Germany may or may not have to attack us, we, these people say, we have a plethora of motives to attack them. This point, this argument is so devoid of point or argument, that I cannot waste the time of the House in refuting it. It refutes itself. Why should we attack the Germans? Because we have no reasons to do so. That is all that one can advance. Do we want their colonies? Why, we are eternally obliged to them for having taken them and so rid us of a sterile investment. Do we want part of Germany? Neither parts nor the whole of it. Have we not ceded to them Heligoland? Sir, it is, as I said, impossible to detect a single argument in favour of our attacking Germany. The minds that counsel such a violent measure are influenced by apprehensions arising out of future developments. They are anticipative souls to whom the secrets of the future have been revealed by the timorousness of the present. I respect souls; I respect timorousness; but I refuse to attribute to it any oracular wisdom. The future is dark, three shades darker than the present, which is impenetrable enough as it is.
"'There remains, then, only the other alternative: Germany seriously means to attack us. Well, sir, let us analyse this statement. What earthly good would such an attack do to the Germans? I hear they covet Denmark and Holland, as the natural outlets of their Empire which at present is like a muffled head; and since England cannot permit theirtaking possession of Denmark and Holland, the Germans must fight England. This argument, sir, lacks all the elements of truth. It lacks geographical force, historical momentum, political sense. Denmark, we all know, is quite in the east of Germany between the Elbe river and the Lake of Baikal.'
"(Uproarious hilarity in parts of the House. A voice: 'Lake Baikal is in Siberia!')
"'I hear, sir, Lake Baikal is in Siberia. As if I had not known it, sir! I say Baikal as the scientific term of Baltic, which is in reality Bi-Kalic, or rapidly speaking: Baikal.'
"(Opposition members: 'Deucedly clever—he got out ofthatscrape!')
"'Denmark which, as I said, is in the east of Germany does not muffle her at all. It is a highly artistic country and in the Bay of Catgut are fished the best strings for violins.'
"(A voice: 'Sound of Kattegat!')
"'I hear, sir, that it is the Sound of Kattegat, but I think every patriotic Englishman says Catgut. But to return to my argument: the Germans being very musical, love violins, and consequently love the Kattegat, as the hon. voice says, and love the Danes. As long as the Danes give their fine catguts, the Germans will certainly not think of doing them any harm.'
"(An angry voice: 'But Denmark is in the north of Germany!')
"'I hear, sir, that Denmark has moved from her ancient moorings. If that be so, then I can only conclude that Germany has still less reason to covet the possession of Denmark. For, is it not clear, orluce clarius, that Denmark is a sort of nightcap to Germany? The Germans themselves typify their nation as aDeutscher Michel(Teuton Michael) with a nightcap on his head. Why, this nightcap is Denmark. The Teuton likes a nightcap.'
"(General laughter.)
"'All Teutons do.'
"(Renewed laughter.)
"'Need I say more?
"'And as to Holland, I am bound to say that it passes my comprehension how anyone can seriously maintain that Germany covets Holland. I hear that she covets Holland because it is exasperating to a great Power like Germany that the entire delta of her greatest river, the Rhine, belongs to a small and hostile Power. It is asked of me, how I, or for the matter of that any Englishman, would like to see the mouth of the Thames in the power of the Belgians? Sir, I should not like to see that, to be sure. But the case is quite different. We English have no river like the Rhine, which in its upper course gives the most generous wine, and in its lower course is nothing but a vile combination of hydrogen and oxygen, commonly called water. If, for better illustration, the Thames in her upper course gave the finest whisky——'
"(Great uproar among two-thirds of the members, all teetotallers.)
"'Or, I beg your pardon, ginger beer or cyder, we should not greatly mind to whom the lower course belonged. But, sir, it is a well-known and a most patriotic fact that the Thames river contains nothing else than water. Water, sir, is the panacea of this nation!'
"(Violent applause from two-thirds of the House.)
"'Yes, the panacea, the salvation, the resurrection, and the rehabilitation of this country.'
"(Cries: 'Righteousness!—Righteousness!')
"'We cannot get enough of it. Water in our throats—in our papers, books, and speeches. Water in our dramas, novels, drugs; water, water—three kingdoms for water!'
"(Wild and frantic applause of the whole House.)
"'Now, sir, I maintain all this does not hold good with our friends the Germans. They do drink wine and beer and schnapps. They cannot be without them. Their Rhine gives them wine in plenty in that part of its course which belongs to them. What does it, what can it matter to them to whom the lower part of the Rhine, full of mere water, does or does not belong?'
"('Hear! Hear!')
"'The Germans are a practical nation. Does any person; I say more than that,canany person say that the Germans will wage a great war in order to possess themselves of water, when all that time they already have excellent wine? I could understand, sir, that if the Germans occupied the watery mouth of the Rhine only, and not its middle and upper course full of noble wine——'
"(Several voices: 'Order! Order! Retract noble.')
"'Well, well, the House will allow me to say "noble" wine, inasmuch as wine has not only four or fourteen quarters, but innumerable ones.'
"(Opposition cries: 'Excellent! deucedly clever!')
"'To return to my argument: I could understand that the Germans, if they had only the lower course of the Rhine, would forthwith wage war to acquirethe middle and upper course of the river. We learn from Tacitus that they are a very thirsty nation, and this authentic news is, as readers of more modern authors tell me, not given the lie by the contemporary Germans either. But under the existing circumstances the Rhine—or Hock—argument, meant to prove German hostility, falls into the water near the Dutch border, wherever that may be.
"'There is finally, sir, another so-called argumentreHolland and Germany. It is stated that the Germans covet Holland on account of the Dutch colonies in Asia and South America. These colonies, as everybody knows, are exiguous.'
"(An angry voice: 'About 800,000 English square miles.')
"'I hear, sir, the Dutch colonies are about 800,000 English square miles. Of course, my information is taken from Tacitus; and no doubt since his time some additions have been made to the colonial microcosm of the Dutch. But even if that were so, and if the Dutch actually possessed 800,000 square miles of colonies, it is quite patent that these colonies, if not exiguous in extent, are exiguous in value: otherwise they would long ago have been governed from Downing Street.'
"(Approving laughter—half of the members smile knowingly, while the other half pat themselves on the backs of their neighbours.)
"'Do you mean to tell me that the Germans will wage an immense war for the sake of what we have not deigned to pick up? They are, I know, past masters in the use of offals for purposes of food and drink. But surely in matters of politics they want more than offals.
"'At the risk of wearying hon. members I should like to add just a remark or two on another argument of the alarmists. We have seen the Danish argument; the Hock argument; and the Dutch colonies argument. There remains one more: the aerial argument. I hear from my valet that one Chaplin or Zebraline has made a flight or two through the air.'
"(Voices: 'Zeppelin!')
"'I hear, sir, his name is Zeppelin; probably an abbreviation of Mazeppaline, whom Lord Byron has sung so well.'
"(Opposition members: 'Deucedly clever!')
"'The flight of Mazeppa has naturally much agitated the Germans, all of whom can read English. If they could not, what else would they read? I have never heard of a German literature.
"'But to resume: the Germans, excited byMazeppabehold in Herr Zeppelin an aerial Mazeppa. That is all, as the French say. But, sir, is it likely that Herr Zeppelin will so perfect his balloon or airship as to make it available for the transportation of an army corps or two to England? Suppose he could do so; what would be simpler than to render his aerial landing in this country impossible? We have simply to refuse him a patent for the British Empire, and lo! he can never set foot on the clouds of England.
"'But the alarmists say that even if Zeppelin's airship could not carry over whole army corps, they might very well serve for German scouts and spies, who might explore the secret preparations and defensive measures made by this country on land.
"'Well, sir, this apparently strong argument has not an atom of vitality in it; and for the simplestof reasons too. The Germans might send their trustiest Zeppelin No. 10 or No. 50, with their best trained scouts in it. These scouts might pry into anything in the shape of military preparations in England; but they will never discover anything.
"'Why, sir, this is why we make no preparations. We do that simply to nullify any possible Zeppelin.'
"('Hear! Hear! Deucedly clever.')
"'Some critics say that we have lost the old bold imperialist spirit. But, sir, is it not evident that we are to-day of a greater military spirit than we ever were formerly? Feeble nations, in order to secure peace, constantly prepare for war; or as the Latin adage holds it: "Si vis pacem para bellum." We, on the other hand, make no preparations for war, because we are so strong as to consider war or peace with equal equanimity. To sum up: the aerial argument has no more force in it than the other arguments of the alarmists. If a modern William the Conqueror should be able to conquer the air, and by a modern battle of Hazetings (deucedly clever!) enter the mid-air of this country, he will find Heroes and not Harolds to contest every square inch of Margate winds, of Lincolnshire rain, or of London smoke. This country, sir, can be subjugated neither by land, nor by sea, nor by air. Over these three elements hovers and reigns supreme the indomitable spirit of the race.'
"(Tremendous applause.)
"When the speech of the Leader of the Opposition was ended, Columbus turned to me," continued Cæsar, "and said: 'I have no doubt, O Cæsar, that you are fairly sickened by that speech. But, pray, consider that every word of it was framed and uttered, not to discuss seriously the German danger, but to get back into power. The speaker is neither so ignorant nor so foolish as he appears. He made a special effort to appear absolutely ignorant of geography, because the party in power has won great renown by an imposing ignorance in that subject. You must not smile. I say deliberately, imposing. The English hate geography, maps, atlases, globes. Even in the examinations for the diplomatic service they do not admit geography as a subject.
"'Being convinced of the exclusive importance of their own country, they are simply bored with geographical considerations of any other country. Some time ago it occurred that not one member of the House knew whether British Guiana was an island or a peninsula. Of course, it is neither. It belongs to thebon tonto be ignorant of all geography; that is, to treat Germany or Denmark or Russia as if one spoke of some internal province of the Chinese Empire. For similar reasons, the speaker affected not to see the slightest danger from Germany. The party in power was elected by the people mainly on the ground that with the Goody-Goody ones "in," and the Imperialists "out," the people were safe not to be embroiled in a European war. In order to take the wind out of the tattered sail of Pacifism the speaker acted as if the Germans did not so much as dream of doing England any harm.'
"All this is most disheartening," said Cæsar. "To treat foreign policy merely as a card in the little game of electioneering is most injurious to the interests of a great country. England, like every other country in Europe, has been made in her Downing Street rather than at the polls or in Committee-rooms. European currents determine the minor currents of the home policies of the several countries. You say, and with the utmost right, O Columbus, that you have given the English their most powerful leverage. But would you have thought of doing what you did do, had not a vast event in South-eastern Europe, the coming of the Turk, driven your countrymen to the discovery of a western route, the eastern being closed by the Turk?
"I wish the Parthians in mid-Asia, in my time, had been as strong as the Turks were in your time. We should have had you while I lived, and by the discovery of America over fifteen hundred years before you did discover it, the whole trend of the world's history would have been different. For you would have given this immense new leverage to the Roman Empire instead of to little England. It is rather amusing to hear the English talk of the 'Unspeakable Turk,' a nation to whom they are, if indirectly, more obliged than to any other nation of the past or present, excepting the French.
"The truth is, that no nation makes itself. It is made by itself only in so far as it reacts against the powerful influence of the others, its neighbours and their neighbours. If these neighbours are feeble, and second-rate nations, the reacting nation itself will remain feeble and second-rate. The greatnessof the present Germans is a veritable godsend to the English, since the decadence of the French. By reacting against it properly, England will be newly invigorated.
"The scribblers of the little ones ascribe the downfall of the Empire which I founded to the rottenness of my Romans. How untrue! My Empire decayed because, comprising as it did all the then known civilised nations, it lacked a great adversary by reacting against whom it might have reinvigorated itself from time to time. They say the Barbarians, chiefly the Teutons, overpowered us. Alas! I wish they had been much stronger than they were. They never overpowered us. Had the Greeks and Macedonians been able to concert great military measures against us, we should have been forced to give up the fatal idea of an all-compassing Empire, and should have finally arrived at a fine and vitalising balance of power in the Mediterranean.
"The English ought to welcome, although to combat the rise of Germany. They imagine that their principal force comes from their colonies. It will come, not from their colonies, which is geographically impossible, but from their perennial rivalry with great Continental Powers. These rivalries made England, made her colonies. To give up these rivalries, to cease combating great Continental Powers, will be the end both of England and her Empire. In my time I, together with all my friends, gloried in my long-drawn conquest of Gaul, and my final victory over the leader of the Gauls, Vercingetorix. I now wish I had been defeated at Alesia, and a strong and united Gaul had been established under my unlucky adversary. Whatinestimable centre of healthy rivalry would Gaul not have been for us! To try to conquer it was right; to have definitely deprived it of independence was a disaster. Strifeless bliss prospers only in Olympus."
THE SIXTH NIGHT
APOLLO AND DIONYSUS IN ENGLAND[1]
It is many years ago that in the Bodleian at Oxford I was shown into the beautiful room where John Selden's noble library is placed. It is a lofty, well-proportioned room, and on the walls are arrayed the silent legions of the great scholar's books.
At that time I was still fonder of books than of realities, and with breathless haste I ran over the title-pages and contents of the grand folios in over fifteen languages, written by scholars of all the Western nations and of many an Oriental people.
Then I paused before the fine oil-painting near the entrance of the room representing the face and upper body of the scholar-patriot. The face is singularly, touchingly beautiful. The delicately swung lines of the lips tell at once, more especially in their discreet corners, of the deep reticence and subtle tact of the man. No wonder my Lady Kent loved him. The combination of political power, boundless erudition, and charming male beauty could not but be pleasing to a knowing woman of the world. His eyes, big and lustrous, yet veil more than they reveal. He evidently was a man who saw more than he expressed, and felt more than he cared to show. Living in the troublous times of James the First and Charles theFirst, he worked strenuously for the liberties of his country, while all the time pouring forth works of the heaviest erudition on matters of ancient law, religions, and antiquities.
His printed works are, in keeping with the custom of his day, like comets: a small kernel of substance, appended to a vast tail of quotations from thousands of authors. Like the unripe man I was, I liked the tail more than the kernel. Yet I had been in various countries and had acquired a little knowledge of substance.
And as I gazed with loving looks at the mild beauty of the scholar, I fell slowly into a reverie. I had read him and about him with such zeal that it seemed to me I knew the man personally. Then also I had walked over the very streets and in the very halls where he had walked and talked to Camden, Cotton, Archbishop Ussher, Sir Mathew Hale, Lord Ellesmere, Coke, Cromwell. It was the period that we, in Hungary, had been taught to admire most in all English history.
And there was more particularly one maxim of Selden's, which he carefully wrote on every one of the books of his library, which had always impressed me most.
It ran: "Liberty above everything"; or as he wrote it, in Greek: περἱ παντὁς τἡν ἑλευθερἱαν.
Yes, liberty—that is, political liberty—above everything else. I had, like all people born in the fifties of the last century, believed in that one idea as one believes in the goodness and necessity of bread and wine. I could not doubt it; I thought, to doubt it was almost absurd. And so I had long made up my mind to go one day to Oxford and to make my reverentbow to the scholar who had adorned the shallowest book of his vast collection by writing on it the Greek words in praise of liberty.
However, before I could carry out my pilgrimage to the Bodleian, I had been five years in the States. There indeed was plenty of political liberty, but after a year or so I could not but see that the sacrifices which the Americans had to make for their political liberty were heavy, very heavy, not to say crushing.
And I began to doubt.
I conceived that it was perhaps not impossible to assume that in Selden's maxim there were certain "ifs" and certain drawbacks. My soul darkened; and when finally I arrived at the Bodleian, I went into Selden's room, and to his portrait, prompted by an unarticulated hope that in some way or other I might get a solution of the problem from the man whose maxim I had held in so great esteem for many a long year.
So I gazed at him, and waited. The room became darker; the evening shadows began spreading about the shelves. The portrait alone was still in a frame of strangely white light. It was as if Apollo could not tear himself away from the face of one who had been his ardent devotee.
After a while I observed, or thought I did, with a sensation of mingled horror and delight, that the eyes of the portrait were moving towards me. I took courage and uttered my wish, and asked Selden outright whether now, after he had spent centuries in the Elysian fields with Pericles and Plato, whether he still was of opinion that liberty, political liberty, is the chief aim of a nation, an aim to be secured at all prices.
Thereupon I clearly saw how his eyes deepened, and how the surface of their silent reserve began to ripple, as it were, and finally a mild smile went over them like a cloud over a Highland lake.
That smile sent a shiver through my soul. Selden, too, doubts his maxim? Can political liberty be bought at too great a price? Are there goods more valuable than political liberty?
After I recovered from my first shock, I boldly approached the smiling portrait, and implored Selden to help me.
And then, in the silence of the deserted room, I saw how his lips moved, and I heard English sounds pronounced in a manner considerably different from what they are to-day. They sounded like the bass notes of a clarionet, and there was much more rhythm and cadence in them than one can hear to-day. They were also of exquisite politeness, and the words were, one imagined, like so many courtiers, hat in hand, bowing to one another, yet with a ready sword at the side.
To my request he replied: "If it should fall out to be your fervent desire to know the clandestine truth of a matter so great and weighty, I shall, for the love of your devotion, be much pleased to be your suitor and help. Do not hesitate to follow me."
With that he stepped out from the frame and stood before me in the costume of the time of the Cavaliers. He took me by the hand, and in a way that seemed both natural and supernatural, so strangely did I feel at that moment, we left unseen and unnoticed the lofty room, and arrived almost immediately after that at a place in the country thatreminded me of Kenilworth, or some other part of lovely Warwickshire.
It was night, and a full moon shed her mysteries over trees, valleys, and mountains. On a lawn, in the midst of a fine wood of alders, Selden halted.
There were several persons present. They struck me as being Greeks; their costume was that of Athenians in the time of Alcibiades. I soon saw that I was right, for they talked ancient Greek. Selden explained to me that they had left Elysium for a time, in order to see how the world beneath was going on. In their travels they had come to England, and were anxious to meet men of the past as well as men of the present, and to inquire into the nature and lot of the nation of which they had heard, by rumour, that it had something of the nature of the Athenians, much of the character of the Spartans, a good deal of the people of Syracuse and Tarentum, and also a trait or two of the Romans.
Of those Greeks I at once recognised Pericles, the son of Xanthippus; Alcibiades, the son of Clinias; Plato, the son of Ariston; Euripides, the son of Mnesarchos; moreover, a man evidently anarchonor high official of the oracle of Delphi; and in the retinue I saw sculpturesque maidens of Sparta and charming women of Argos, set off by incomparably formed beauties of Thebes, and girls of Tanagra smiling sweetly with stately daintiness.
Selden was received by them with hearty friendliness, and conversation was soon at its best, just as if it had been proceeding in the cool groves of the Academy at Athens.
The first to speak was Pericles. He expressed to Selden his great amazement at the things he had seen in England.
"Had I not governed the city of holy Athena for thirty years," he said, "I should be perhaps pleased with what I see in this strange country. But having been at the head of affairs of a State which in my time was the foremost of the world; and having always availed myself of the advice and wisdom of men like Damon, the musician-philosopher, Anaxagoras, the thinker, Protagoras, the sophist, and last, not least, Aspasia, my tactful wife and friend, I am at a loss to understand the polity that you call England.
"What has struck me most in this country is the sway allowed to what we used to call Orphic Associations. In Athens we had, in my time, a great number of private societies the members of which devoted themselves to the cult of extreme, unnatural, and un-Greek ideas and superstitions. Thus we hadthiasoi, as we called them, the members of which were fanatic vegetarians; others, again, who would not allow their adherents to partake of a single drop of Chian or any other wine; others, again, who would under no circumstances put on any woollen shirt or garment.
"But if any of these Orphic mystagogues had arrogated to themselves the right of proposing laws in the Public Assembly, or what this nation calls the Parliament, with a view of converting the whole State of Athens into an Association of Orphic rites and mysteries, then, I am sure, my most resolute antagonists would have joined hands with me to counteract such unholy and scurrilous attempts.
"I can well understand that the Spartans, who are quite unwilling to vest any real power whatever in either their kings, their assembly, their senate, or their minor officials, are consequently compelled to vest inordinate power in their few Ephors, and in the constantly practised extreme self-control of each individual Spartan. In a commonwealth like Sparta, where the commune is allowed very little, or no, power; where there are neither generals, directors of police, powerful priests or princes, nor any other incumbents of great coercive powers; in such a community the individual himself must needs be his own policeman, his own priest, prince, general, and coercive power. This he does by being a vegetarian, a strict Puritan, teetotaller, melancholist, and universal killer of joy."
Here Pericles was interrupted by the suave voice of Selden, who, in pure Attic, corroborated the foregoing statements by a reference to the people called Hebrews in Palestine. "These men," Selden said, "were practically at all times so fond of liberty that they could not brook any sort of government in the form of officials, policemen, soldiers, princes, priests, or lords whatever. In consequence of which they introduced a system of individual self-control called ritualism, by means of which each Hebrew tied himself down with a thousand filigree ties as to eating, drinking, sleeping, merrymaking, and, in short, as to every act of ordinary life. So that, O Pericles, the Hebrews are one big Orphic Association of extremists, less formidable than the Spartans, but essentially similar to them."
Selden had scarcely finished his remarks, when Alcibiades, encouraged by a smile from Plato,joined the discussion, and, looking at Pericles, exclaimed:
"My revered relative, I have listened to your observations with close attention; and I have also, in my rambles through this country, met a great number of men and women. It seems to me that but for their Orphic Associations, which here some people call Societies of Cranks and Faddists, the population of this realm would have one civil war after the other.
"Surely you all remember how, in my youth, misunderstanding as I did the Orphic and mystery-craving nature of man, I made fun of it, and was terribly punished for it at the hands of Hermes, a god far from being as great as Zeus, Apollo, or Dionysus. Little did I know at that time that the exuberance of vitality, which I, owing to my wealth and station in life, could gratify by gorgeous chariot races at Olympia under the eyes of all the Hellenes, was equally strong, but yet unsatisfied, in the average and less dowered citizens of my State.
"My chequered experience has taught me that no sort of people can quite do without Orphic mysteries, and when I sojourned among the Thracians, I saw that those barbarians, fully aware of the necessity of Mysteries and Orphic Trances, had long ago introduced festivals at which their men and women could give free vent to their subconscious, vague, yet powerful chthonic craving for impassioned daydreaming and revelry. They indulge in wild dances on the mountains, at night, invoking the gods of the nether world, indulging freely in the wildest form of boundless hilarity, and rivalling in their exuberance the mad sprouting of trees and herbs in spring.
"You Laconian maidens, usually so proud and cold and Amazonian, I call upon you to say whether in your strictly regulated polity of Sparta you do not, at times, rove in the wildest fashion over the paths, ravines, and clefts of awful Mount Taygetus, in reckless search of the joy of frantic vitality which your State ordinarily does not allow you to indulge in? And you women of Argos, are you too not given to wild rioting at stated times? Have I not watched you in your religious revivals of fierce joy?"
Both the Laconian and Argive women admitted the fact, and one of them asked: "Do the women of this country not observe similar festivals? I pity them if they don't."
And a Theban girl added: "The other day we passed over Snowdon and other mounts in a beauteous land which they call Wales. It is much like our own holy Mount Kithæron. Why, then, do the women of this country not rove, in honour of the god, over the Welsh mountains, free and unobserved, as we do annually over wild Kithæron? They would do it gracefully, for I have noticed that they run much better than they walk, and they would swing thethyrsusin their hand with more elegance than the sticks they use in their games."
At that moment there arose from the haze and clouded mystery of the neighbouring woods a rocket of sounds, sung by female voices and soon joined in the distance by a chorus of men. The company on the lawn suddenly stopped talking, and at the bidding of the Delphic archon, whom they called Trichas, they all went in search of ivy, and, having found it, wreathed themselves with it. Themusic, more and more passionate, came nearer and nearer.
From my place I could slightly distinguish, in mid-air, a fast travelling host of women in light dresses, swinging thethyrsus, dancing with utter freedom of beautiful movement, and singing all the time songs in praise of Dionysus, the god of life and joy.
Trichas solemnly called upon us to close our eyes, and he intoned apæanof strange impressiveness, imploring the god to pardon our presence and to countenance us hereafter as before.
But the Laconian, Theban, and Argive maidens left us, and soaring into air, as it were, joined the host of revelling women.
After a time the music subsided far away, and nothing could be heard but the melodious soughing of the wind through the lank alder-trees.
Then, at a sign of Trichas, Plato took the word and said:
"You are aware, my friends, that whatever I have taught in my Athenian days regarding the punishment of our faults at the hands of the Powers of the Netherworld, all that has been amply visited upon me in the shape of commentaries written on my works by learned teachers, after the fashion of savages who tattoo the beautiful body of a human being.
"I may therefore say that I have at last come to a state of purification and castigation which allowsone to see things in their right proportion. Thus, with regard to this curious country in which we are just at present, I cannot but think that while there is much truth in what all of you have remarked, yet you do not seem to grasp quite clearly the essence, or, as we used to say, the οὑσἱα of the whole problem.
"This nation, like all of us Hellenes, has many centuries ago made up its mind to keep its political liberty intact and undiminished. For that purpose it always tried to limit, and in the last three hundred years actually succeeded in limiting, or even destroying, most of the coercive powers of the State, the Church, the nobility, the army. Selden not improperly compared them to the Jews. And as in the case of the Jews, so in the case of the English, the lack of the coercive powers of State, Church, nobility, and army inevitably engendered coercive powers of an individual or private character.
"This is called, in a general word, Puritanism. Our Spartans, who would not tolerate public coercive corporate powers any more than do the English, were likewise driven into an individual Puritanism, called their ἁγωγἡ, which likewise consisted of fanatic teetotalism,mutisme, anti-intellectualism, and other common features.
"This inevitable Puritanism in England assumed formerly what they call a Biblical form; now it feeds on teetotalism—that is, it has become liquid Puritanism. I have it on the most unquestionable authority, that the contemporary Britons are, in point of consumption of spirits and wine, the most moderate consumers of all the European nations; and the average French person, for example, drinks152 times more wine per annum than the average Englishman. Even in point of beer, the average Belgian, for instance, drinks twice as much as the average Englishman; while the average Dane drinks close on five times more spirits than the average Briton.
"Yet all these facts will convert no one. For, since the Puritan wants Puritanism and not facts, he can be impressed only by inducing him to adopt another sort of Puritanism, but never by facts.
"Accordingly, they have introduced Christian Science, or one of the oldest Orphic fallacies, which the Mediæval Germans used to call 'to pray oneself sound.' They have likewise inaugurated anti-vivisectionism, vegetarianism, anti-tobacconism, Sabbatarianism, and a social class system generally, which combines all the features of all the kinds of Puritanism.
"We in Athens divided men only on lines of the greater or lesser political rights we gave them; but we never drew such lines in matters social and purely human. The freest Athenian readily shook hands with ameticor denizen; and we ate all that was eatable and good. In England the higher class looks upon the next lower as the teetotaller looks upon beer, the vegetarian upon beef, or the Sabbatarian upon what they call the Continental Sunday.
"Moreover, there is in England, in addition to the science of zoology or botany, such as my hearer Aristotle founded it, a social zoology and botany, treating of such animals and plants as cannot, according to English class Puritanism, be offered to one's friends at meals. Thus, mussels and cockles are socially ostracised, except in unrecognisable form;bread is offered in homœopathic doses; beer at a banquet is simply impossible; black radishes, a personal insult.
"In the same way, streets, squares, halls, theatres, watering-places—in short, everything in the material universe is or is not 'class'; that is, it is subject or not subject to social Puritanism. All this, as in the case of the Hebrews, who have an infinitely developed ritualism of eatables and drinkables, of things 'pure' or 'impure'; all this, I say, is the inevitable consequence of the unwillingness of the English to grant any considerable coercive power to the State, the Church, the nobility, the army, or any other organised corporate institution.
"They hate the idea of conscription, because they hate to give power to the army, and prefer to fall into the snares of faddists.
"The coercive power which they will not grant in one form, they must necessarily admit in another form. They destroy Puritanism as wielded by State or Church, and must therefore, since coercive powers are always indispensable, accept it as Puritanism of fads.
"What are the Jews other than a nation of extreme faddists? Being quite apolitical, as we call it, they must necessarily be extremely Orphic—that is, extreme Puritans.
"Political liberty is bought at the expense of social freedom. Nobody dares to give himself freely and naively; he must needs watch with sickly self-consciousness over every word or act of his, as a policeman watches over the traffic of streets. And lest he betray his real sentiments, he suppressesall gestures, because gestures give one away at once. One cannot make a gesture of astonishment without being really astonished at all, andvice versâ.
"And so slowly, by degrees, the whole of the human capital is repressed, disguised, unhumanised, and, in a word, sacrificed at the altar of political liberty.
"The Romans, much wiser than the Spartans, gave immense coercive power both to corporate bodies, such as the Roman Senate, and to single officials, such as a Consul, a Censor, a Tribune, or a Prætor. They therefore did not need any grotesque private coercive institutions or fads.
"The English, on the other hand, want to wield such an empire as the Roman, and yet build up their polity upon the narrow plane of a Spartan ἁγωγἡ. In this there is an inherent contradiction. They hamper their best intentions, and must at all times, and against their better convictions, legislate for faddists, because they lack the courage of their Imperial mission.
"Empires want Imperial institutions, that is, such as are richly endowed in point of political power. Offices ought to be given by appointment, and not by competitive examinations, if only for five or ten years. The police ought to have a very much more comprehensive power, and the schools ought to be subject to a national committee. Parliament must be Imperial, and not only British. Very much more might be said about the necessity of rendering this Realm moreapotelestic, as we have called it, but I see that Euripides is burning to make his remarks, and I am sure that he is able to give us the finalexpression of the whole difficulty in a manner that none of us can rival."
Thereupon Euripides addressed the company as follows:
"For many, many a year I have observed and studied the most life-endowed commonwealth that the world has ever seen, Athens. I watched the Athenians in their homes, in the market-place, in the law courts, in peace and war, in the theatre and in the temple, at the holy places of Eleusis and Delphi, their men as well as their women.
"Personally I long inclined towards a view of the world almost exclusively influenced by Apollo. I thought that as the sun is evidently the great life-giver of all existence, so light, reason, system, liberty, and consummately devised measures constitute the highest wisdom of the community.
"In all I wrote or said I worked for the great god of Light, and Reason, and Progress. I could not find words and phrases trenchant enough to express my disdain for sentiments and ideas discountenanced by Apollo. I persecuted and fiercely attacked all those dark, chthonic, and mysterious passions of which man is replete to overflowing. I hated Imperialism, I adored Liberty; I extolled Philosophy, and execrated Orphic ideas.
"But at last, when I had gone through the fearful experiences of the Peloponnesian War, with all its supreme glories and its unrelieved shames, I learnedto think otherwise. I learned to see that as man has two souls in his breast, one celestial or Apollinic, the other terrestrial or Dionysiac, so there are two gods, and not one, that govern this sub-lunar world.