Mr. Oseba's Last Discovery.--New Zealand on the Map.--Zealandia,
by the Poets.--Zelania, by the Shadowas.--Leo Bergin's
Reveries.--Scenes so Grand that Words are Meaningless.--The Maoris
Discovered.--Strange and Romantic.
SCENE VIII.--ACT II. 137-160
Appropriating the World.--Some Comparisons.--Allegiance of
Love.--Happy Conditions.--Produce Noble Ideas.--Some Interesting
Comparisons.--Mr. Oseba in Good Form, Spicy Spice.--Leo Bergin
Pimples Out into Poetry.--Dividing the Land.--Barons _v._
Settlers.--Sheep _v._ Children.--Sacred Rights.
SCENE VIII.--ACT III. 161-175
Utilitarian.--Acres and Flocks.--Profitable Exercise.--Public
Utilities, Have, &c.--King Demus.--Cannonaded and
Canonised.--Business.--Graduated Tax, an Eloquent
Persuader.--Nature's Pleasing Freaks.
SCENE VIII.--ACT IV. 176-198
The Moral Side.--People Like to Live.--On the
Make.--Inspiring.--Women Came, Result.--Mental
Gymnastics.--Schools, Books, &c.--Other Tastes.--Social
Progress.--Opinion's Sake.--Many Worships.--Toleration and Good
Fellowship.
SCENE VIII.--ACT V. 199-225
Worthy of His Hire.--The Toiler Allowed to Live.--So Decreed by
Law.--May not all be worthy.--Justice Elevates.--Some Leaders,
but Public Sentiment the Force.--No High, and No Low.--Advanced
Notions.--Old Age Pensions, &c.--Pleasing Outings Amid Wild
Sport and Romantic Scenes.--Raising the Ideals, with a Climax.
INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS.
Save that that of the Hon. R. J. Seddon is placed facing page 8, Sir
Joseph Ward facing page 16, the New Zealand Cabinet facing page 24,
and Mr. T. E. Donne facing page 32, all the illustrations are spaced
evenly through the work, classed or grouped consecutively, but owing to
evident impossibilities they do not conform strictly to the text. All
the illustrations are typically New Zealand.
_SCENE I._
INCONCLUSIVE ALLUSIONS.
This, being a true story, with the slight deviations necessary to the
preservation of a due sense of proportion, it is deemed proper to
casually introduce the characters on whom we must chiefly rely for the
truthfulness or otherwise, of a most romantic adventure.
In such an introduction, the Editor, or compiler--the "I" in these
pages--necessarily appears, but to the Chronicler himself, who has no
"poetic license," we must rely for the correctness of the recital.
Though without my aid this strange story might possibly have reached
the world, the manner of its coming into my hands has made me a
"curtain-shifter," as it were, in the scenes, and in this pleasing
task, fidelity shall be my only guide.
I was not "journeying towards Damascus," but being weary from many
wanderings, and desirous of returning to dear old London as soon as
possible, at Marseilles, I booked for Amsterdam on the fine passenger
steamer _Irene_--the voyage, however, to be broken for a brief stay
over at Lisbon.
It was midnight when we swung from our moorings and steamed out of the
harbor, and, the sea being rough and I a bad sailor, I did not venture
on the upper deck until nearly lunch time the following day. I was
not too well. The sea was not placid, the air was damp and chill,
and--well--I was not happy.
The decks were "sparsely populated," and as I was slowly zigzagging
my way along, in a sense of utter loneliness, raising my eyes, my
attention was aroused by the presence of what seemed a familiar figure.
It was the graceful form of a tall, well-proportioned young man. His
face was pale, his head was bent forward, he leaned heavily over the
starboard railing of the vessel, and I imagined that he, too, was
not well. I did not recognise him, but sympathy and curiosity, and,
perhaps, custom, lead me half unconsciously to his side. I said to him
soothingly, "It is rather rough to-day." He raised himself a little,
leaned a little further over the ship's railing, and made a convulsive
movement. He was "not well," but raising himself more erectly, he
turned towards me slightly, and ironically said, "Thanks, so I have
been informed." The "tone" of the expression was unkind, for my motives
were good and my conduct was as wise as the occasion would suggest.
His voice limped piteously, but it had something in it of old
familiarity. "You?" said I. My voice also had in it to him something
of old familiarity. I looked in his face. He returned my gaze. The
recognition was mutual.
"Leo Bergin!" said I.
"Sir Marmaduke!" said he.
"You have come to bring unholy memories," said I.
"And you have come to reproach me," said he, in tones of agony I shall
never forget.
"No," said I, "Leo Bergin, I give my hand. 'Let the dead past bury its
dead.' Look not sorrowfully over the past--it comes not again--but with
resolute heart and strong hand brave the future, and thou shall find a
crown or a grave. List--not another word of the past; but, Leo Bergin,
what of the future?"
"Thou art kind," said he, with bowed head, and in good Bible phrase,
"but I ill deserve your generosity."
"List," said I again, "Leo, what of the future?"
"The future?" said he, with bowed head, downcast eye, and awfully
solemn voice, "the future? Because I know the past I feign would die;
because I know not the future, I am cowardly enough to live. You know,
my friend, my benefactor, that I have talent, good looks, and industry,
but the world," said he more sadly, "is against me."
Yes, I had heard before that Leo Bergin had "talent, good looks, and
industry." In fact, Leo Bergin, on a memorable occasion, had himself
confessed to me as much. Ah! my brothers, what good opinions we have
of ourselves. All of us, men and women, think ourselves possessed of
talent, good looks and social merits; but here our self-satisfaction
ends, for the dull world, whom we could so well serve, failing to
appreciate us, we are left a prey to neglect, and often to despair.
Ah! my brothers, we forget that we are not impartial judges; that the
world is impartial and may be just in its conclusions. How kindly we
think of ourselves! In the person who readily agrees with us, what
noble qualities of soul and mind we discover. But 'tis well, for
conceit, foolish as it may seem, often saves us from despair.
Yes, Leo Bergin had talent, education, good looks, and industry; but
Leo Bergin, I had concluded from the occasion referred to, was erratic,
"a shingle short"--in fact, not "all there."
"But, Leo," said I, "where are you bound?"
"To h----," said he, in phrase quite jocular, in tones almost bitterly
sad.
"Ah!" said I, "pack your kit then and step off at old Cadiz, for that
is on the border."
But the bugle blew for lunch, and the association of ideas drove Leo
Bergin to his cabin, and, with a sickly promise to "come later," I was
left to ponder over the strange events of life--events that often lead
to such meetings; the meetings, in turn, to lead to other events, even
more strange and interesting.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
Well, my reader, while Leo Bergin is below, striving to compromise with
his digestion, I will relate to you some of his peculiarities, that you
may be prepared for his wonderful recital.
It was January 10th, 1898, as he entered my room on Great Russell
Street, just opposite the British Museum, London, that I first saw him.
He knocked at my door, gently; he entered my room, quietly; he sat
down familiarly, and he opened the interview, promptly. I will not say
Leo Bergin, on this occasion, was not modest; I will say he did not
hesitate.
Had Leo Bergin remained silent I would have known that he was out of
money, out of luck, out of friends, and almost out at the knees and
elbows. But he evidently doubted my powers of perception, for, with
superfluous frankness and eloquent volubility, he informed me that he
only wanted a "loan" for a short time until he could "get on his feet."
These stories were very common. They had been very "taking" with me,
but desiring to avoid occupying a like position I had grown impatient
and crusty, possibly a little hard-hearted, so I looked squarely into
his fine eyes, and asked him "to get on his feet" at once.
He arose, looked me in the face, not with defiance or humiliation, not
with shame or impudence, but like a man. He said, "I am down." That was
evident, but the soft saying of this had always cost me heavily, and,
softening again, I asked who he was and what he could do.
He said, "I am an American; I was born in Virginia, lived in
California, have done newspaper work in New Zealand, and as a
journalist I am in London--and down."
I weakened. The man who had been born in Virginia, lived in California,
and done newspaper work in New Zealand, could not be wholly depraved,
for the very air of these three favored spots would preserve some
semblance of virtue.
"I surrender," said I; "express your most fervent wish and it shall be
granted."
He betrayed little emotion. His countenance remained placid, but
he said, "I have talent, good looks, and industry, and I want
employment,--I desire to earn my living. I asked for a loan, but it
was in despair, and I desired to replace my lost revolver that I might
'quit this ghastly dream called life' before another week's board was
due. But under the spell of your words, 'a change came o'er the spirit
of my dream,' and now I must live."
"Must!" said I, "you assert this 'must' with such emphasis, perhaps
you would tell me why you _must_ live? For my part I see no actual
necessity for it--not the least."
A cloud was on his brow. He remained silent and immovable as a statue.
"Cheer up, old fellow," said I, "for if you desire to earn your living,
I will secure a position for you."
I knew who wanted a man, "talented, good-looking and industrious." I
gave Leo Bergin a suit of my clothes--just a little soiled, I confess,
for, as a fact, I never could obey that divine injunction regarding the
giving my brother a coat, until it was a little soiled. I gave him a
strong letter to a friend on Trafalgar Square, and Leo Bergin stepped
into a good position.
I was called to the Continent for a few months on important duty. Time
went on and within a few weeks I received a brief note.
"Trafalgar Square,
"London.
"To my Benefactor,
"Yours of ---- received. Glad,--you deserve it. I am well. I think my
employer is satisfied, but I am a little restless.
"LEO."
"Talent, good looks, and ambition, but a fool," said I, "and he will
never get on."
A few more weeks passed, and another note came from "Trafalgar Square,
London." This was less brief than the other. It read:--
"Trafalgar Square,
"London.
"Dear Sir,
"Leo Bergin is not at his desk. He has appropriated enough of my money
to enable him to take a vacation, and--he left no address. Talent, good
looks, and ambition Leo Bergin has, to some degree, but he is evidently
a d---- villain. What did you know about this fellow, anyway?
"D. J. FOLDER."
There seemed no vagueness in this note, but I pondered. What did I
know about him? Only that he was once born in Virginia, had lived in
California, and had done newspaper work in New Zealand. Musingly, I
said, "Perchance the villain lied." This solved the problem for the
time, for it seemed more likely that a man should even lie, than go
wrong with such a record.
For the time I lost all respect for Leo Bergin. To deliberately rob a
confiding employer is reprehensible, and if Leo Bergin in this had not
shown himself a thief, he had betrayed an entire lack of a sense of
proportion. This was one side of Leo Bergin's character.
But lapses, my brothers, do not establish total depravity, for it
is reported "of old" that a gentleman, on a very serious occasion,
prevaricated on a very potent fact, and when confronted, "he denied."
When pressed, "he denied with an oath," and yet this gentleman has been
kindly remembered and well spoken of.
TEMPESTUOUS.
The wind increased in violence. It was a wild night. The blue
Mediterranean was angry, but the good ship plunged ahead like a defiant
monster. For two days more, the decks were unoccupied save by the
careless sailors. The tables looked "lonesome," for the storm still
raged in fury.
The hours and the days, that seemed like weeks and months, wore away.
We rounded Cape Vincent, when immediately the wind ceased, the sea was
calm, the ship rode smoothly, the air was balmy, and the passengers,
like a section of the morning of resurrection, appeared plentifully
upon the broad clean decks, and were happy.
[Illustration: _The Right Hon. R. J. Seddon, P.C., LL.D., Prime
Minister, Colonial Treasurer, Minister of Defence, Minister of
Education and Minister of Labour. For over eleven years the sturdy
Leader of the most progressive democracy of all the ages._]
Leo Bergin also appeared on deck. His smile was feeble, his grasp
was languid, but he spoke earnestly of beef-steak and coffee, and I
felt that he was--"better." Old Cadiz had been passed, and he had
evidently concluded to try some climate other than the one previously
suggested. We sat--we chatted. I was to leave the ship at Lisbon,
finishing my journey by the next steamer. He?--I did not know.
Strange, when we do people a favour we at once feel an interest in
them. Possibly we feel somewhat responsible for such an one's conduct.
Possibly, too, and more likely, we desire their success, that we may
take to ourselves a little credit for a "happy career."
I had done Leo Bergin a favor, was interested in him, and asked as to
his "future." His glance was friendly, his smile doubtful; he drew his
chin lower on his bosom, drummed on a book with his gloved fingers, and
said, "Well, I have made an acquaintance with a mysterious personage.
I have talent, good looks, and ambition, but I am an outcast, and I
am going on a new venture. You know the Folder episode, and, to be
frank, after a serious review of the case, I question the propriety
of my action, and now that the money is gone, I have many qualms of
conscience."
I was not a little surprised, but I was glad to discover that he
believed himself to have a little conscience, for as "conscience does
make cowards of us all," I hoped for his reform.
We sat side by side, and planting his closed hand firmly on my knee by
way of emphasis, he said, "Yes, I have made a new acquaintance, that
of a mysterious personage, and I am now starting on the most reckless,
the most risky, the most irrational, and the most romantic venture ever
undertaken by mortal man, and if I succeed you shall hear from me;
but if I fail, oblivion will claim Leo Bergin, and the claim will be
promptly allowed. I made my new acquaintance and formed my new plans
but yesterday, and I stand at the dawn of the most enchanting dream
that ever lured a sensible man to ruin."
I begged him to unfold his tale, but he answered, "You are a practical
man, and you would regard my undertaking as so wild and visionary as to
indicate insanity, for you do not regard me as an imbecile. If I fail,
only another leaf, its stem nipped by the frost, flutters to the ground
to fertilise the soil. If I fail, the world, save you, knows not of my
folly. If I succeed, the facts that I shall reveal will be more strange
than fiction, and the results of my adventure will redound to the glory
of the land I love."
"Ill as I was," he continued, "I began my notes yesterday, October
5th, 1898, off the coast of Spain, and I shall keep a true record of
my doings and my observations. If I survive, which is hardly likely,
I shall find you and place my notes at your disposal. If I perish--if
possible you shall have them brought down to the last breath, and in
every page you shall have evidence of my gratitude and my integrity."
"But tell me," said I, with impatience. Here the whistle blew, we
saw all confusion, and we were entering the port of Lisbon. Time for
further explanation, there was none. We separated, I to follow out
well-laid plans for business and pleasure, he--well, to me it was an
unsolvable riddle; but I never lost faith that, some time and in some
place, Leo Bergin would again turn up.
_SCENE II._
LEO BERGIN "TURNS UP."
Two years had passed, and with all my professions of interest and
regard, for a full year of that time Leo Bergin had not entered my
mind, and for the whole two years, he had occupied very little of
my thoughts. As a fact, save on one occasion when D. J. Folder, in
forgiving jest told me that he needed a man, and asked if I could
recommend a young man with "talent, good looks and ambition," for the
position, I do not remember having thought of Leo Bergin.
Absence defaces memory. Ah! how quickly we are forgotten. We spend our
brief time upon this showy stage, assuming that we are necessary to the
world's success or pleasure, but when we drop to senseless dust, all
save a few, go merrily on, and even they, in a day or a few days, dry
their tears and join the happy throng again.
Later, in the autumn of 1900, I was called to Copenhagen on business,
and having made the acquaintance of a prominent physician there, I was
invited to visit one of the leading hospitals.
In going the rounds of the various wards, we were informed that several
new patients had just entered, brought from a ship which had returned
from a North Polar voyage. This would satisfy some curiosity, and soon
we were among the new patients. There were a dozen in all, mostly
Russians, Finns, and Danes, but at one side of the ward we noticed
there were two pale-looking fellows, conversing in English.
Instinctively I walked across to their presence, when to my
astonishment, gazing earnestly at me, I recognised the sad, pitiful
face, of emaciated, health-broken Leo Bergin.
His eyes brightened slightly, he smiled faintly, and reached a feeble
faltering hand to meet mine, in friendly greeting. There was time for
smiles of waning joy, time for sighs and tears of pity, but for words,
the time had well nigh sped, for Leo Bergin was close to the pearly
gates.
"Sit close," said he, "sit close, for I am sailing for another port,
and while I don't know the nature of the climate, there can be nothing
better, and nothing worse than I have had in this world, so let the
storm howl, and the ship plunge, I am not whining."
So saying, he slightly turned on his bed, and reaching a thin hand
under his pillow, he drew forth a package wrapped in some soft skin,
and tied about with twine.
"Here," said he faintly, "this tells the whole story. It is all good
'stuff,' but I place it at your disposal. If you think it better, you
may boil it down, and if you make anything out of it, well, pay Folder,
for I had a good time with his money, and now I have plenty to last
me through. I don't know how, but some way I knew I should find you,
and this,--it is all true, but the dreams of fiction never unfolded
anything half so strange."
I longed for a few more minutes, but the form of Leo Bergin lay limp
on the bed. His hands were lax, his brow wore a deathly pallor, and
his lips moved slowly in inaudible whispers. I touched his hand, for I
wanted one more word, and as he seemed to slightly revive, I said:
"'Tell my soul, with sorrow laden,' where have you been?"
He aroused a little, smiled, and pointing to the package, gaspingly
said, "It is all there, all there, and I--well, I have been to 'Symmes'
Hole,'"--and when I looked again upon that placid face, the soul of Leo
Bergin had sailed for the other "Port."
ADJUSTING THE CURTAINS.
Leo Bergin, with neatness and despatch, was comfortably buried, myself
being chief mourner, and "after life's fitful fever he sleeps well."
I was impatient to know the contents of the package, but desiring to
enjoy perfect leisure, while unravelling the mystery so intensified by
Leo's earnestness, I reluctantly laid it away, to wait my arrival in
London.
Time passed.
I was back at my old quarters in Great Russell Street, London. The
weather was so chill, dark, and foggy, that, at four, I had lighted
the gas. The fire burned lazily in the small grate. The room was not
uncomfortable, but in harmony with the gloomy surroundings. I was
touched by a feeling of depressing loneliness. I paced the not very
expansive floor, peered through the blackness into the dimly lighted
streets, paced again, lighted a cigar, sat and pondered.
Thrown back in an easy chair, dreamingly watching the graceful whirling
wreaths of my consoling Havana, my thoughts on random wing soared
aimlessly away, to gather up the memories of vanished days. Then, like
gladsome youths on holiday, came trooping along the casual incidents
of an easy life, my last visit to Venice, my run to Marseilles with
Monarco's party, the stormy voyage along the coast of Spain. Ah! here,
in flesh and blood with spare but athletic form, pale scholarly face,
pleasing but rather melancholy smile, gentle voice and cordial, arose
Leo Bergin; a thought! The form vanished, but the "package" was more
substantial, and I hurriedly unpacked my trunk, and drew it forth, just
as he had given it me fully three months earlier.
With a thrill of mingled pain and pleasure, I removed the rough twine,
and unrolled the leather wrapping. My heart throbbed with emotion, my
hand trembled, but my eager eyes beheld a large roll of manuscript
neatly tied with familiar tape.
While I had not even a glimpse of the nature of these notes, I did
not even guess, or attempt to guess, their character. I knew that Leo
Bergin, when quite alive, had talent and ambition--the good looks for
this occasion I will omit--and I knew this was a most interesting, if
not an important "find."
In contemplating the situation, as I leisurely removed all surplus or
superfluous covering, a small scrap of soiled and crumpled paper fell
to the floor, and on picking it up, I was not a little surprised to see
that it was an especial note. It was written in a feeble, but legible
hand, and read as follows:--
"Nowhere,
"November, 1900.
"To whoever may find the within,--
"As I am breathing my last, and I am a little anxious to be off, I pray
you to forward at once to Sir Marmaduke, Colonial Club, Whitehall,
London.
"LEO BERGIN.
"Richmond Virginia, late of 'Symmes' Hole.'"
This was another side of the character of Leo Bergin. Mentally, I was
in what may, I think with some propriety, be termed a state of deeply
interested confusion. I unrolled and exposed to view the whole package.
It was voluminous. It was composed of some twenty writing tablets, each
with a large number of thin sheets, foolscap size. These tablets were
consecutively numbered, the pages were closely written on one side, the
first few being in a round neat hand, the skill rather weakening as the
work proceeded.
I was too eager for a general inspection to deliberately peruse any
particular portion or feature of the whole, but there was a sufficient
mass of what seemed by the painstaking methods to make a large volume.
But the mystery still deepened. Where, for what purpose, and under what
circumstances, was the work done? There were here and there strange
names of places, strange personages and strange events recorded. Was
Leo Bergin mad? or was there, in fact, somewhere passing events that
were indeed stranger to us than fiction?
My cigar went out, the fire had "followed suit," I looked at my watch
with some impatience, and it showed the "wee sma' hours" had come. I
was perplexed, paced the floor, and looking out into the street, I saw
how the gusts of wind drove the snow and sleet along with the fury of
a demon. I shuddered as I paced the floor, but how could I unravel the
mystery, the mystery that perplexed me?
"Back into my chamber turning, all my soul within me burning," I said
again, "Where is the key?" for Leo Bergin had talent and ambition, and
while he seemed erratic, he was no visionary dreamer. While Leo Bergin
lacked a sense of proportion, even in his foibles he was practical, and
had at least one eye on the main chance.
"No," said I, "Leo Bergin was no dreamer," he had no fads, no
superstitions, and little imagination, and he was a true Bohemian. He
had a "nose for news," a genius for work, and a love for adventure
that all the fiends in and out of Hades could not thwart.
But how could I unravel the mystery? Where the de'il had he been for
two long years? Who was Symmes? And if Symmes had a hole, where was it?
[Illustration: _The Hon. Sir Joseph Ward, K.C.M.G., Colonial
Secretary, Minister of Railways, Minister of Commerce and Industries,
Postmaster-General, with Telegraphs, Minister in charge of Tourist and
Health Resorts, and Minister of Public Health. Rather complex, but Sir
Joseph's abilities are as versatile as his duties are varied._]
Here I paused--an idea struck me. "I am a fool," said I--but I would
rave should any one less informed regarding my weakness say so. Ah!
I have it. Here it is, for he said, on our parting, as he handed it
to me, "It is a record of every day's doings and events." Yes, and he
said, on our parting at Lisbon, "I made my new acquaintance, and laid
my plans for future action yesterday. I have begun my work, and I shall
keep a truthful record of every day's doings and events, and on my
return I will place it at your disposal."
"Plain enough, it is all there, and to-morrow I shall begin," said I,
"to unravel this mysterious story."
_SCENE III._
A STRANGE STORY.
"To-morrow" has come. The outside world seems glad to be alive. I--the
Editor--accustomed to mental ease and physical comfort, am confronted
with perplexing duties. My bills are paid, my health is good, and my
mind is clear, but, confound the idea of work! I never liked work, and
I fear even custom will not reconcile me to drudgery. But duty calls,
and, so far, duty has never called upon me in vain.
I--the Editor, remember--am ashamed that I forgot Leo Bergin for two
long years; I am more ashamed that I so nearly forgot the package, the
contents of which may bring pleasure to many a curious and careworn
soul, for, as a fact, I feel rebuked even by the presence of this
evidence of sturdy resolve, so wanting in myself. As a fact, I know,
when I care to be serious, that Leo Bergin, with his restless ambition,
his tireless industry, his dauntless courage, his reckless love of
adventure, and his almost insane determination to turn on a little more
light, with all his faults, was worth to his kind, more than a legion
of happy idlers, who, like myself, were born in wealth, and indolently
dallied in the soft lap of luxury, careless alike to the sorrows and
the joys of common humanity.
Well, as a compromise with my conscience--I think it must be
conscience, for the sensation is new to me--I am determined to unravel
the mystery of Leo Bergin's absence, and, if in the mass of labored
matter, there is one thought or fact or idea worthy of his fine
attainments and insane strife, the world shall find some compensation
for his many errors.
With comfortable surroundings, cheerful fire, easy chair, convenient
desk and table, fine cigars, ample library, a new found sense of duty,
an industry aroused by remorse, and with a sense of deep responsibility
I begin my work, feeling that the suggestion from the dying author to
"boil it down" has vastly augmented the difficulties that confront me.
I am abundantly aware that the age is athirst for fiction, whereas I
have for its patience but a plain unvarnished tale. I know the taste
for graceful periods, while I can give but labored phrase, and I know
the critics want only the "meat," while I must crave the indulgence of
an occasional flourish.
For the present, at least, I shall "boil down" the matter contained in
Leo Bergin's copious notes. In this I may do him an injustice, but I
shall save myself much toil and mental worry.
Of Leo Bergin I shall speak well. He is dead--and by the world's
philosophy, we should speak kindly of the dead. What a vile philosophy!
Why not speak kindly of the living? Why do we taunt, and harpoon, and
revile the erring soul, until it drops into senseless dust, and then,
when our poisoned shafts no longer sting, feel constrained to "speak
kindly of the dead!"
Oh! my brothers, be good to me while I am alive; you may encourage me,
aid me, save me, and when I am dead, you have a standing invitation to
my funeral, and your tongues will not grieve me.
But, goodbye, indolent reverie, goodbye dreamy speculation, goodbye
ease and careless waste of precious hours, and welcome toil, for I
am going to do penance, so welcome wearisome work, and welcome thou
confused mass of spoiled and rumpled paper, for I long to release the
winged words, held so sacredly in your perishable grasp.
'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words. Life is in them, and death.
A word may send the crimson current hurrying to the cheek, hurrying
with many meanings, or may turn it, cold and deadly, to the heart. And
yet, a word is but a breath of passing air. This is pretty--I hope it
is original, but I fear it is not--but here begins the diary, a full
record of the doings and observations of Leo Bergin for two eventful
years. Where is number one? Ah! here it is, a few little old crumpled
sheets I had not seen. No. 1 plain enough. He began on these, and laid
in his supply of paper later. I will quote _verbatim_ the first few
pages, as they may furnish the key to the whole.
Well, then, this is the starting of that career, I hope an interesting
one. It begins:--
"At sea, on board steamer _Irene_,
"Off coast Spain,
"October 5th, 1898.
"Terrible storm! The purser said we were in 'imminent danger.' Danger!
how thrilling!--if a fellow were not so sick. Terrible storm! But, as
compared with my tempestuous soul, the angry Mediterranean is still.
"I regret having met Sir Marmaduke. He did me a kindness; I served
Folder well; Lucile, and I--a poor adventurer--became friends. _The
Times_ wanted me to go to Armenia; I borrowed the money from young
Folder in his father's absence; young Folder, it seems, took the money
from the firm's safe; he fell into disgrace with his father, accused
me, and--well, Folder and Sir Marmaduke and dear Lucile, all think me a
thief. Let the old Mediterranean howl, let her mountainous waves plough
the ground, until all the bones of all she has slain are washed up and
cast on the shores of bloody Spain, and until the Pillars of Hercules
are torn from their base, and I will laugh at raving Nature's petulant
moods, and go down smiling with the wreckage to death and eternal
night. But confound young Folder! and, but for Lucile, I would teach
him a sense of proportion. Sir Marmaduke shall sometime know that he
was not mistaken in me--and Lucile--well, maybe she'd rather think me a
villain, than to know her brother was one."
Well, well! "Oh, my prophetic soul!" Leo Bergin, forgive! Then, Leo
was not a thief, and I, like a common fool, now that the truth is out
should have known that Leo Bergin, with his fine attainments, his
superb vanity, and his indifference to wealth, could not stain his
hands with dishonor. Surely it was a foolish proceeding at such a
juncture for Leo Bergin to die. What fine material for a romance! But
we never romance. He continues:--
"This morning I discovered that I had a strange cabin mate. Physically,
he is the finest type of manly beauty I ever beheld; and, mentally, he
seems above our common human nature. That he is no fool is certain,
that he is not insane, I am fairly well persuaded, and that he is
mistaken seems hardly credible, yet as measured by all the supposed
knowledge of our generation, by the demonstrations of science and
the calculations of thinkers, he talks the most arrant nonsense. His
splendid personality, his easy graceful manners, and his general
intelligence interests one; his 'sublime gift of eloquent gab,' his
seeming logic, and his insinuating ideas are charming, but the seeming
boldness, not to say audacity of his statements astonishes one. But to
me, he is resistless; and for good or ill, success or failure, life or
death, I have cast my lot with him.
"Evening, later. Strange experience this--the storms have no terror for
me. Strange! but this mysterious cabin mate has captivated me. I was so
bewildered with his impossible statements and extravagant claims, and
with all his absolute indifference as to our incredulity, that I sought
refuge in the captain's room, and here, listening to an interesting
recital, I spent four of the most thrilling hours of my life.
"The captain is certainly a gentleman of superior parts. He has a fine
knowledge of astronomy, he is a master of geography, and is deeply
read in the broader and more general physical sciences, and yet, in the
presence of this stranger, as he seems not of our world in any sense
common to our understanding, he is dumb with astonishment.
"This strange being, surely a man, for he eats and drinks and smokes,
and worse, he snores, says he is Amoora Oseba, that he lives in a great
city called Eurania, in a country called Cavitorus, and that his people
are called Shadowas. Save that the mind wanders with an unconscious
effort to locate this country, city, and people, this statement seems
but commonplace.
"But where is Cavitorus? Where is the City of Eurania? and who the
de'il are the Shadowas? Save that he might be regarded as a superior
sample, this Amoora Oseba--which sounds Arabian--might be taken easily
for a Russian, a Dane, a Scot, or a Yankee. But whence came he? Let him
tell us.
"At the captain's suggestion, I invited him to the fore-cabin, where,
seated around a table, our host, the chief engineer, a merchant from
Boston, a parson, my cabin mate and myself, were met for interesting
inquiry.
"The instruments having been brought and the glasses filled, the
captain looked in the face of Mr. Oseba, and said in manly business
tones, 'We have become interested in you, Mr. Oseba, and while your
statements seem most astounding to us, we have invited you to my cabin,
that we might persuade you to give us some explanation of your strange
theories; and as an introduction of the subject, I beg to inquire from
what country you hail, and what is your destination?'
"The question seemed rational, and to most men, how easily answered!
But here was a new experience. All eyes were turned on the handsome,
intelligent, earnest face of my new-made friend and fellow-passenger,
and he said: 'Mystery lies just beyond the visible horizon of the
knowable. Because I have explored the realms of your mental and visible
horizon, either of you could easily answer me such a question, and to
the satisfaction of all; but as my country lies beyond both your mental
and visible horizon, I can only answer by an explanation, moving or
advancing such lines.'
"Here Amoora Oseba took a globe in his hand, and remarked that as
educated men they regarded this as a 'counterfeit presentment' or model
of the world they inhabited. He explained that for millions of years,
our ancestors remained indifferent, and then disputed about the shape
or form of the world they inhabited; that in comparatively recent times
loving men cooked one another for believing the world to be round,
and that in times really but yesterday, the most advanced people had
nothing like a correct conception of the construction of the Universe.
[Illustration: _PREMIER SEDDON AND HIS POLITICAL FAMILY. From left--The
Honorables C. H. Mills, W. C. Walker, C.M.G., R. J. Seddon, P.C. LL.D.,
T. Duncan, J. Carroll, Sir J. G. Ward, K.C.M.G., W. Hall-Jones, J.
McGowan._]
"'In old, old times,' he said, 'our ancestors believed the world to
be flat. That question for thousands of years was considered settled.
For a comparatively brief time the world has been considered to
be round, a solid sphere. This, for this short period, has been the
"settled" notion.'
"But he assured us that the propositions were equally fallacious. The
whole party was inclined to laugh, but he continued. He reminded us
that we all believed in the nebular theory, that our earth, with the
other planets, had been thrown off by the sun's rapid rotary motion;
that in rapid revolution these masses had assumed forms peculiar to
their revolutionary velocity, that planets had in turn thrown off
masses that had become satellites, and that form was a result of
motion, mass, and volume. He reminded us of the natural tendency of
matter to fly from the surface of a rapidly revolving wheel, cylinder,
or globe.
"This was the case with our earth. While yet a yielding or molten mass,
it whirled very rapidly on its axis, the surface cooled and became
rigid, and the molten matter contracted. During this process, the
plastic interior moved towards the crust, the cooling mass requiring
less and less space. Thus the centre parted, and our earth became,
not a solid globe, as you were taught to believe, but an oval ring, a
hollow ball, revolving rapidly as do the rings of Saturn, formed under
the same law, but owing to the mass in her case being greater, the
gravitation of the interior held the central mass together as a planet.
'As a fact,' he said, taking a large apple in his hand, 'if the core
of this apple were removed with a care that would preserve the proper
curvature, I will venture to say "ovality," it would present an exact
model of our world. Then the world is hollow, not solid, and it is
habitable and inhabited over the oval.'
"The members of the party looked at each other with amused curiosity.
'Symmes!' said the captain; 'Hurra for old Kentuck!' said the Yankee;
'Logic!' said the engineer.
"'You smile,' said Oseba, 'but a man may smile and smile, he may even
sneer, and still be wrong.'
"He looked so undisturbed, so dignified and earnest, that levity
ceased, and he said 'As a rule, men accept their opinions ready
made, and they only search for corroborating evidence. When Galileo
proclaimed a new truth, he was silenced, by the frowns of authority.
Who was right? When Bruno proclaimed a great truth, he was cooked, by
authority. Who was right? All your schoolboys of to-day know.'
"'But when Symmes advanced a new theory, because the world had grown
more tolerant or less earnest, he was laughed out of court, while
those who imprisoned Galileo, and cooked Bruno, and ridiculed Columbus
and Magellan, having grown careless, amused themselves by writing of
Symmes' northern regions as "Symmes' Hole."'
"'Well, gentlemen,' said Mr. Oseba, 'I am from over the Oval, from
"Symmes' Hole," and after five years of constant travel and hard study
among the people of the outer world, whom we call Outeroos, I am
returning to "Symmes' Hole," and this young man,' turning to me, 'is
going with me to report.'
"There was no mirth, the captain drumming on the table said, 'Ahem!'
The Yankee said, as he looked quizzically at me, 'Well, I guess he'll
have to muffle himself up pretty good, and I think our house could give
him a proper outfit,' and the engineer said to me, 'raising the curtain
is the most interesting part of the performance.'
"'But this is so far outside of our experience and our observations,'
said the good-natured skipper.
"'Pardon,' said the calm Oseba, 'the observations of your men of
experience have but confirmed our contentions, though the evidence so
far, has not disturbed the hypotheses of your theorists. But what are
the observations of your men of hard experience? This leads to another
line of inquiry.'
"Save by an occasional question, the silence of the listeners had been
unbroken from the start. The subject had been profoundly discussed, and
as the hour was growing late, it was agreed that the party meet at once
after dinner on the following evening. All faces now looked serious.
The captain thanked the stranger, and said, 'We met to scoff, we
remained in rapt attention, we retire to meditate. To-morrow evening,'
said he, 'we will question you, our worthy guest, with a different
feeling. Good night.'
"What a unique experience! How I would like to have had Sir Marmaduke
with us. But Sir Marmaduke thinks I am a thief and unworthy of his
presence.
"Well, goodbye old day,
I'll throw me down and sleep my cares away."
By George! that is striking. The man from "Symmes' Hole." Ha! Ha! Well,
I wish I had been there. But Leo Bergin does me an injustice, for I
was too careless to think about his crime, or alleged crime, for, as a
fact, I liked him when I met him, and in his absence, I never thought
either of him or his folly.
"What fools we mortals be!" We are eternally worrying about what others
think of us, when, in fact, each of all the "others" is quite engaged
with his or her own affairs. What "everybody says" is usually only what
some idle meddler says, the busy world having no thought or care on the
matter. But Leo Bergin thought of me, well--
"I'd give the lands of Deloraine,
If Musgrove were alive again."
But,--"Never, never more."
Let us see what follows, for this is more interesting far, than a
courtship. Let's see--the next day I left the ship at Lisbon, in
response to mail from Hamburg. Let's see if I am forgotten as easily as
he was, and what the man from Symmes' Hole had to say at the adjourned
meeting. By my soul, this is rich! The notes read:--
"At sea, on board S.S. _Irene_,
"Off coast of Portugal,
"October 7th, 1898.
"'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now is brooding o'er a still
and pulseless world.
"What an eventful day! In old Lisbon a few hours, made a few
purchases--paper to hold stuff enough to startle the world--saw Sir
Marmaduke on the steps of the Cathedral; he did not answer my salute.
If I live, he shall know me better. If--oh, that terrible 'if'! that
brief halt, that in all our hopes arises to console us, that brief halt
that excuses impotency for failure, chills me.
"Had a long chat with my chief, Oseba, _re_ our polar journey. Strange,
I speak of this with candour, and make my plans as if it were actual,
and yet my judgment scoffs at my foolish dreams, for, as a fact, it
must be the delusion of a madman. So I thought at 4 p.m.--
"Later.
"Promptly at eight, the party of last evening re-assembled in the
captain's cabin. All seated at the table, Amoora Oseba handed round
some fine cigars, the glasses were filled, and the skipper said, 'Now,
Mr. Oseba, we would like to hear further from you, for if you are
insane, there seems to be method in your madness. If you are a joker,
you are a most charming entertainer, but if you are sane and candid,
for the world's good you should remain quiet, only when necessary to
refresh yourself for further effort.'
"The captain had prepared a six-inch globe by removing the axial core,
and paring down the outer openings so as to leave it oval with the outer
curves for Mr. Oseba's convenience in making his illustrations--this was
Oseba's 'apple,' the core removed.
"On rising, Mr. Oseba thanked the captain for his courtesy, and raising
the globe, he reminded the party that he was to review the observations
of experienced men in support of what to him was more than a theory. He
asked his friends to fix in their minds the new form of our globe, for
that was important.
"He first called attention to the fact that all the extreme North Polar
regions were rich with the waste or remains of animal and vegetable
life. This was 'settled.' 'All navigators agree,' he said, 'that
hibernating animals, say above 80 or even 78°, go north to winter; and
that driftwood comes from the north with flowers unknown to botanists.
In high latitudes birds and swarms of insects come from the north in
spring, and Tyson's men killed many of these migrating birds for food
for his crew. In the craws of these birds there were found undigested
grains of wheat, some of which were planted and grew in California. The
kernel of this wheat was three times the common size, and California
seasons were too short for its ripening. Now, whence came the birds,
the wheat, and the insects? Plainly, from "Symmes' Hole." Greely found
the ice but four feet thick at 82°, and less than two feet at 84°, so
the ice would not bear the boats, and many navigators report an
open polar sea, and greatly agitated waters at high latitudes.
"'By the old theory, it must be known that, at the poles, the North
Star would be--must be--directly overhead, or in the zenith. But, as a
fact, all polar explorers know that the pole star is in the zenith at
about 80°, and that, at 83-4°, it is seen far towards the stern of the
ship. If the old theory were true, this phenomenon seen at 84° would
only appear after a ship had sailed past the Pole some ten or twelve
degrees.
"'The fact is,' said he, 'sailing north at 84°, the verge is past, the
curvature is sharper, and the ship is dipping into "Symmes' Hole."
Further, at 82° north, the horizon very sensibly contracts to the north
and south, and enormously lengthens east and west. This is on the
verge, at the point of sharpest curvature.'
"While these arguments were not entirely new to the captain, they
struck him with a new force, and the party remained silent. Assuming
that he had made out his case, the Sage assured us confidently that the
earth was hollow, with openings at the Poles; that the equatorial sides
are about 3000 miles thick; that the surface of the interior world,
like that of the outside, has mountains and plains, rivers and lakes;
that it has proportionately less habitable lands, an equatorial zone of
some 2000 miles being quite uninhabitable; that on either side of this
there is a habitable belt of variable width; that from the sun and its
reflections, and electrical phenomena, there are ample light and heat;
and that about 3000 miles north of the equator, just under and opposite
the Greenwich meridian, stands the City of Eurania--the most beautiful
and opulent on this planet--the capital of a great and wealthy country.
"Silence reigned for a few moments, when the deeply interested Boston
man, in the most inquisitive and earnest tones said, 'But, my dear Sir,
as we are evidently of about the same class of goods, and were probably
turned out of the same mill, how the de'il did you fellows get down
there? and how the de'il did you get out?'
"This discussion, so learned, so full, so logical, so eloquent, and so
earnest, should be preserved, even to the tones and expression, but I
am weary, and it is late, and if--there is that 'if' again--if I live,
nothing of that scene shall perish; and if I don't--and, I won't--I
will have spent time enough on it, for all will probably be lost, so I
will 'boil it down.'
"Well, in answer, Amoora Oseba said that it was now a well-settled
theory that, probably owing to periodic oscillations of the earth, the
course and character of which were not yet understood, there had been
great changes in the temperature of the polar regions. The moving down
and the receding of the polar ice limits, in no distant geological
times in the past are abundantly evident. The temperature at the
so-called Poles had materially varied, the ice-belt so oscillating that
at times animal and higher vegetable life flourished at high latitudes,
as is known by the abundant remains of undecayed animals still found in
the ice fields.
A PRETTY TALE.
"Then he related a tradition among his people, reciting that in the far
distant past--at a time probably when the polar regions were rather
temperate, and most of the human race were yet in barbarism--a small
tribe of peacefully disposed people inhabited a fertile region in an
open world, where the horizon stretched away alike in all directions.
[Illustration: _Mr. T. E. Donne, Superintendent of Tourist and Health
Resorts; Secretary of Department of Industry and Commerce; Secretary
for New Zealand Commercial Intelligence Department of the British Board
of Trade; Representative St. Louis Exposition. By his industry, ability
and modest candour, and the merits of his "enterprise," Mr. Donne is
becoming one of the best known Tourist Agents on the globe, and he is
one of the most competent and trusted of Sir Joseph Ward's carefully
selected staff._]
"The chief of these amiable people was an attractive and commanding
personality named Olif. This Olif had a most beautiful daughter, whose
mother, while gathering flowers for her child, had been strangled by
the orders of an envious and childless queen. The name of the daughter
was Eurania, which means "Sunbeam." But as she grew to womanhood she so
strongly resembled her father, and was so constantly at his side, that
the two beings seemed a double--but a single soul--and soon the people
idolised the damsel under the name of Oliffa. Olif and Oliffa, the
chief and his daughter, as guardian spirits, held supreme authority.
"At a great festival, in which many kindred tribes and nations met
to celebrate an historic event, a grim chieftain of a warlike tribe
became enamoured of Oliffa. He demanded her as one of his wives. Oliffa
declined--there was a rush to arms, and many of Olif's people were
slain.
"The great King Oonah took sides with his warlike chief. Oliffa was
taken by force, she was led to an altar in sight of her people, her
ankles were loaded with fetters, her whole tribe were condemned to
extinction, and preparations were being made for the general massacre.
When the King, beholding Oliffa that she was stately, beautiful, and
wise withal, said:
"'Let not Olif and his tribe be slain, but banished--banished; for 'tis
not well that so goodly a people should perish from the earth. I have
spoken.'
"But Olif and his followers gathered themselves together, and the
warriors, joining in one defiant voice, answered:
"'While we may not hope to resist the force of your savage chieftains
who would expel us, we will fight here until we all die, under the gaze
of Oliffa; and,' said they in thunderous tones, 'we have spoken.'
"Oliffa, heroic in her despair, raised herself to her full height, and,
lifting her hands imploringly to the National Gods, in a clear and
earnest voice that made the chieftain quail, said:
"'No, my father and my people, die not, but live for Oliffa--save a
remnant of the tribe of Olif. I am Oliffa--human virtue is greater
than kings or death. Go to the north, dwell in the hollow of my hand,
and, in the fulness of time, thou shalt return to embrace me.' She had
finished.
"With bowed head and in sorrow, Olif and his followers withdrew, and
slowly wended their way towards the unknown regions of the north. But
a party, with the angry chief Sawara, pursued, and coming to the verge
of the land, Olif and his band took refuge on what seemed to be a
small island. Here they repelled their pursuers, and soon they saw the
channel that separated them from the mainland widen, and they thanked
their deities for their deliverance.
"But, alas! they soon discovered that they were on an ice-floe, and
were moving north toward the open sea. Provisions soon gave out, they
prayed to their gods, they floated and suffered, and as the weaker
perished, cannibalism was resorted to--for madness possessed the
despairing party. Days and weeks passed, an impenetrable fog enveloped
them, and they gave themselves up to utter hopelessness.
"However, soon the atmosphere became milder, the distant breakers were
heard, the fog rose like a curtain, and behold! land was near. Nearer
yet they floated. Night came, the full moon shone, but it moved not
up from, but along the rim of the horizon. Morning came, bright and
balmy. The floe had entered a strange harbor, and soon the shores were
reached. It seemed a 'goodly land' with fertile soil and genial climate.
"'But a remnant of the peaceful tribe of Olif,' he said, 'were
saved--nine men, thirteen women and five children. They cut boughs and
built an habitation, and they said: "This shall be our dwelling place.
Our city shall be called Eurania, in honor of our lost one, and here we
will tarry until we return to the goddess Oliffa."'
"'This country,' said Oseba, 'was Cavitorus. These people were the
ancestors of my people, the Shadowas, and on the banks of a charming
harbour they built the City of Eurania, the most beautiful to-day on
this planet.'
"'Through all the ages, from barbarism to the present,' said Oseba,
'there has been a lingering tale, a faint tradition among the people
as related, and a vague idea that they dwelt in a shadow, in the
hollow of a hand, and that some time in after ages, or in after
life, they would return to an upper world, called in nursery tales
and by the superstitious, Oliffa, where the inhabitants are called
Outeroos--because they dwell on the outer world.'
Leo Bergin soliloquizes:--
"What astounding folly! and yet, I am on my way over the limitless
fields of ice and snow and dead men's bones, to this phantom city,
Eurania. Courage! who knows, for--
'There are more things in heaven, and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"
"'Well,' said Oseba, 'these few people were of an amiable race, and a
common danger, and a common sorrow, had made them brethren. Then the
animals of this country were many, strong, amiable, and easily tamed;
the mountains were accessible, the climate genial, and the soil so
fruitful that there was nothing to suggest savagery. All nature smiled,
and man progressed peacefully.'
"'The people,' he continued, 'increased, they were prosperous and
happy. They had no foes--so war was unknown. The animals of the chase
were tamed, and agriculture became an early occupation.'
"Traditions had been broken; back of the people there were but dead
walls. Interminable ice and snow, as well as time, separated them
from the past. With prosperous industry the population increased.
Colonies were planted along the interior sea shores, and commerce was
developed. There were no despots to despoil, no superstition to blight,
no wars to devastate, no idleness to waste, and wealth, such as the
Outeroos never dreamed of, followed as a result.
"The lands were held for the people, but the lands were limited, and as
the centuries came and went, and went and came, the population became
very dense. Civilisation and Science had come, but the population
began to press upon the means of subsistence. Opulent nations arose,
accumulated wealth was great, but room was becoming scarce. For a
time, inventive genius helped to solve the problem, but the sorrows
multiplied as the struggle was made more easy. Soon necessities
suggested remedies for growing evils, which not to use meant universal
destruction.
"The population crowded and the weak and deformed were 'removed.'
The remedy was but tentative, and gradually the pressure grew still
stronger. As the centuries passed, all the weak, the worthless, and the
unfit were sterilised. The pressure still increased. The State then
provided for taking charge of all the children, and only the most fit
were allowed to become parents.
"Under this policy, and under wise management, the State became the
'universal mother.' Parents knew not their offspring, nor the offspring
their parents, and the love of humanity and public duty became the
inspiring motives of human action. Under this policy, too, have the
leading nations of Cavitorus, with the Shadowas in the lead, developed
their present civilisation. Under such a policy they have been able to
adjust the population to the possibilities of the land, and thus while
they have been building their opulent present, they have developed
the finest type of people mentally, morally and physically, that ever
inhabited this planet.
"Oseba explained the quickness of the soil in Cavitorus, the length of
the seasons and of the days, with their peculiar irregularities. He
described the movements of the sun, its appearance at various seasons
of the year, and why it was never entirely dark in those regions.
"Then he recited a further tradition, relating that at the time the
people reached Cavitorus, the bright star Oree was the 'Pole Star,'
that it had moved gradually away, but that in about twenty thousand
years it was to return to its old position. Further, that on the return
of Oree--the tradition ran--the Shadowas would be released from their
seeming isolation, and be reunited with their brethren of the outer
world to the presence, or on the surface of, Oliffa.
"'You see,' said Oseba, 'in the development of all people their myths
and their heroes are strongly allied to, if they are not the actual
forces of, Nature, and all have a seasoning of truth as a basis.
"'The people had watched Oree; were waiting his return, and were alert
for signs of the coming change, or, as they put it, for a "deliverer."
They believed from this tradition, that they had been in Cavitorus
twenty thousand years, and a confidence in their future deliverance
was a deep-seated superstition, a real faith and hope.
"'Well, Oree, as seen from the spot where the first "pilgrims landed,"
as indicated by a peak on a distant mountain, appeared some twenty-five
years ago, and, as on the very night the observations were taken a
portion of a wrecked vessel was cast upon our shores, no wonder the
long-deferred hope found expression in a movement for inquiry and
exploration.
"'Later, a tame dog with a brass collar on his neck was taken from an
ice-floe. Later still, by a few months, a small box and a snow-shoe
drifted ashore. In your year 1890, the corpse of a white man, clothed
in furs, was found on the beach, and the next morning two bodies of
what are now known to have been Esquimaux, were found. As we lived on
the ocean front, we knew whence these came. At this the State took up
the work, made an appropriation, organised a party, and, well,' said
he, 'they abundantly equipped an expedition, put me in charge, and I am
here on my return to Cavitorus, after a five years' tour, covering the
countries of all the outer globe.'"
What masterly logic! What skill in the marshalling of details!
"Well," adds Leo Bergin, soliloquizing, "if it is true, and it must be,
for I am going there, how much stranger than fiction!"
The notes continue:--
"The captain inquired about the harbors along the coast of Cavitorus;
the Boston man inquired if there were any gold mines; the parson, how
high the Shadowas built their church spires; and the engineer, what
motive power was used in their transportation.
"To these Mr. Oseba answered: 'I fear, if I should tell you one half
the truth about these things we should be "discovered," to our sorrow.'
"The hour was late, and as all seemed dazed by the recital, the party
dispersed, to bed,--
'To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub.'"
BOILING IT DOWN.
Well, that is rich! Leo had to cut it short, but he saved me a lot of
trouble. Let's see. Here is a lot of interesting details--interesting
if life were not so short--but I'll have to "boil it down," for "spice"
is the word.
The two adventurers left the _Irene_ at Amsterdam, ran to Hamburg,
where they remained over winter, and being joined by Oseba's
fellow-adventurers, they took a small steamer sent as a supply ship
for a polar party "frozen up" in the seas north of Spitzbergen.
Disembarking, they joined a party for the journey further north,
intending to strike the open sea at a known point. As would be
expected, "the cold was intense," but the party was splendidly
equipped, and progress, for polar travel, was rapid.
[Illustration: _Mitre Peak, Milford Sound_]
"Oseba," say the notes, "had recourse to a magazine he had supplied for
the purpose on his outward journey. Here were supplies of condensed
food, articles of raiment that bid defiance to cold, instruments which
by reflection converted light into warmth, and various scientific
appliances, some that practically rendered the party immune from cold,
and others that aided them in meeting many dangers."
Leo Bergin had not a reputation for underestimating the trials of any
adventure in which he embarked, but taking all in all, it seems from
his report that, under the lead of this wizard from "Symmes' Hole," a
visit to the jumping-off place at the north could be made with little
inconvenience or risk to life or health.
Only once in fifty pages of notes does Leo Bergin complain of hardship.
Not once does he express any regrets, and he never once loses faith in
his master. Only once does he say "the hardships are severe," and then
he adds, "but the genius of Oseba has made us so immune from Nature's
blasts, that, on the main point, we are almost comfortable."
There were seven of the returning party, five of the nine friends, who,
five years before, had crossed these frozen plains with Oseba, and the
two "star" adventurers.
Considering the tales written by North Pole hunters, the incidents of
this journey, from 80° over the "oval" or verge, to 60° inside, are
hardly worthy of extensive comment. So I'll throw the whole journey
across these trackless fields of ice and snow into the waste-paper
basket, or, better still, leave them here, consigned to more certain
oblivion.
Had Leo Bergin been a jester, a thousand richer tales than were ever
written by those who, in search of fame, have joined the throngs that
left their bones in the unknown regions of the North, could have been
found in these candid notes,
"But Truth is a jewel so rich and so rare,
When found should be cherished with martyr-like care."
So I shall metaphorically skip some fifty of Leo Bergin's pages, and
take up the story where the party arrived in the small but picturesque
harbor, on the shores of which stands the City of Eurania, the capital
of Cavitorus--just over the "oval."
Over five long years had passed, since the sage Oseba, the idol
of Cavitorus, and his nine brave friends had been commissioned to
explore the outer world, in search of truth, in search of laws or
customs by which the Shadowas might be more wisely guided, or to
find a country to which it might be possible, wise and well, to send
a colony of their children. Four had perished, and these were to be
fittingly mourned; but "the conquering heroes come," and they were
to be fittingly welcomed, and as their approach had been heralded,
thousands of richly-dressed people thronged the "water front," and the
beautiful city was in gala-day attire. The description of the streets,
and fountains, and parks, and statues of gold, and other eye-ravishing
objects, are dwelt upon in lavish detail, but "want of space," and the
love of ease, admonish me to "blue pencil" many pages of this fancy
fabric.
The superb personality and the gorgeous attire of the people, amazed
the practical Leo Bergin. I will here venture a quotation, then again
"boil it down."
He says:--
"The appearance of the people, as they crowd without confusion along
and away back the shore line, is most striking. They seem over-tall
and very symmetrical in form, and they move as gracefully as trained
actors. They have finely-chiselled features, deep, rather large and
expressive eyes, slightly bronzed complexions, and in every curious
look, gaze, or expression, there is an easy, modest dignity, such
as I have never before seen, even among the rarest few. In every
face there is a deep and real joy; but of enthusiasm, emotionalism,
or sensationalism, there is really none. This passion of the animal
has gone, and the pleasures of the intellect have re-moulded the
countenance. The face has become the mirror of an exalted soul. On no
countenance is there seen gravity, on none hilarity.
"Seeing no sadness, I said, 'Where are the friends of the four who
perished?'
"Alas! under their system none can know father or mother, sister or
brother, son or daughter. All are children of the State. In the success
of any one, there can be but a common joy; in failure, but a common
sorrow."
What nonsense, to talk of such a society! People who forget their own
children? But Herbert Spencer tells us of a people among whom the men
had more affection for the children of their sisters than for those of
their own wives! Mayhap, Herbert was wrong, for this seems unnatural.
Mayhap, Herbert was right, for what we call "natural" is really but
custom. However, "maybe" there were "reasons" in that case--experience.
Leo continues:--
"The attire, too, of these people was 'gorgeous beyond description.'
Array all the royalties, all the nobility, all the Popes and the
Cardinals, with all the courtly favorites and all the Rajahs and robber
chieftains of all the Indies, and all the flunkies, the fops and the
fools of all the capitals, great and small, of the pretentious upper
world, and marshal them for comparison in ranks facing these, and
they of the upper world would seem but a pitiable show, or at best an
amusing burlesque.
"Silks and splendid fabrics, not loud and gay, but rich and rare;
jewels resplendent with Nature's lustre, but worn as modestly as to
seem but articles of common use, were present in enormous profusion.
For jewels, for articles of personal adornment, for ornaments or
trimmings of wearing apparel, gold was too common, cheap and vulgar. In
carriages, in furniture, in statuary, in architectural adornments, it
was in use by the ton--yes, by the cord. Ye gods, if the Americans knew
this!
"Here, as superstition has not blighted, monopoly has not diverted,
despotism has not robbed, war has not wasted, vice has not withered,
wealth has grown with the ages.
"As our whole party were attired in very modest European dress, we must
have appeared rather uncouth to the people, but the absence of apparent
curiosity or inquisitiveness, was surprising."
The notes continue:--
"These people must be adepts in electrical science, for the air was
full of 'floaters,' or flying machines, each seating one or more
persons. They were as thick as blackbirds in a Missouri cornfield."
He noticed an entire absence of children from the throngs of people,
but soon an open space was formed by the crowd falling back, when
several thousand "youngsters" of both sexes, and all the tender ages,
came marching down the wharf, in charge of a few modest-looking
superintendents. As they came to a halt, the people raised their hats
in salutation, when the children, seemingly all of one accord, bent a
knee in acknowledgment.
The notes, observations, and running comments of the observing Leo
are worthy of full perusal, and indeed of preservation, but as I am
hurrying on to a definite purpose, brevity seems to be a necessity.
The reception of the party by the City Council and a joint committee
from the great college, of which Leo learned that Amoora Oseba was the
head, was most impressive, and when the master of ceremonies waved his
hand as a signal, there was an unanimous shout of "Welcome home, Oseba!
Welcome back to Eurania!"
This was the only noisy demonstration. "Every face," says the
chronicler, "looked respectful, grateful, gratified, and happy, but
there were no fire-crackers or bad breath."
Is not that marvellous? Think of such a people! Think of an occasion of
like character in London, New York--ah, ye gods!--in Paris or Berlin! I
wonder if this fellow was not spreading it on rather thick?
But, listen:--
"We were escorted to our carriages, one hundred gorgeous
electro-motors, literally made of gold and ivory, and adorned with
what appeared to be precious stones, but what proved to be common,
indeed. We were driven to the temple--and such a temple! The Palace of
Westminster, the Vatican, or the Washington Capitol would be 'nowhere.'"
But I must "boil it down." He tells us that the ceremony at the temple
was "splendid, but brief"; that the reception of Amoora Oseba was
sincere, and that the proceedings of the meeting of over five years
previous, commissioning him for the perilous journey, were read.
"Resolutions of regret" for the loss of members of the party were
passed, and a meeting was appointed at which Amoora Oseba should make
his report to a select committee, and through such committee to the
people of Eurania and Cavitorus.
Speaking in much praise of the almost depressing dignity of the
ceremony, the notes record that at the close of the announcement,
the chairman read the commission under which Oseba had acted, and on
the performance of which authorised duty he was to report. It read as
follows:--
"City of Eurania, Cavitorus,
"Year 20993, P.C.
"To the well-beloved Amoora Oseba, Chief, National
Academy of Science.
"We, the representatives of the State, on behalf of all the Shadowas,
believing that the time is approaching when, according to our
traditions, we are to be reunited with our brethren of the outer
world, and recognising the necessity of discovering a broader field
for the expansion of our race, hereby authorise you to proceed to the
discovery of any country, to study the condition of any people on
this or any other world, to learn lessons of wisdom whereby we may be
better governed, or 'spy out' a land to which, if possible, we may
desire to send a colony of our surplus population, and to report at
your discretion. The time, the necessary means, the associates, and all
other matters pertaining to this unique enterprise, will be granted by
the State at your discretion, and may the gods favor your undertaking,
and send you back to us with improved health, increased knowledge, and
hopes that may guide the Shadowas in their future struggles for social
progress.
"Signed by a hundred of the National Committee."
My word! pretty good billet had this Amoora Oseba. No wonder Leo Bergin
was captivated by the fellow. But that journey over the "oval," as he
calls it--excuse me--it makes me shiver.
Well, according to the notes, it's a week before that meeting takes
place, a week to be thrown away, to wait. Queer, it seems almost as
though I was there. Let's see if there is anything in his notes to
bridge the time.
Yes, here he relates what a thrilling adventure he had in a "soar" over
the fifty-story houses in an electric air motor; that the buildings are
made of indestructible material; how their steel does not rust; how
light their machinery; how beautiful the girls. Ah, yes! And then he
says: "It might be nice not to have to 'ask papa,' for here no girl has
a father, a big brother, or a pretty sister--which may be convenient."
But from the luxury of a mother-in-law, the Shadowas are forever cut
off.
"The freedom of association between the sexes," he says, "is
surprising, but the social dignity and decorum are even more
surprising. The country, with every inch cultivated, is beautiful, and
the aspect of Nature, especially in the night, with the moon sweeping
along the opposite rim of the earth, the sweeping of the sun along the
horizon, the reflection of light from unknown sources, the wonderful
play of electric phenomena, are too awe-inspiring for description.
"Gold is more plentiful than iron is with us, and platinum more
plentiful than silver;" and he accounts for the great quantity
of these heavy metals on scientific theories. "As for diamonds
and other precious stones, it is only a matter of 'grinding;' but
the 'brilliants' are more beautiful than with us, owing to the
peculiarities of the light."
[Illustration: _Mount Cook, Mueller Valley._]
What fairy tales! And yet we don't "know." Nature tells some strange
stories. Yes, and so do people. There is something amusing or
interesting in the notes of every day, but let the week slide, for
we want to hear the report--we want to hear what Amoora Oseba thinks of
the people of the "upper crust."
"Oh! wad some power the giftie gie us,
To see oursels as ithers see us,
It wad frae monie a blunder free us."
Possibly.
Here we come to that great meeting. Let's get down to date again, and
Leo Bergin's notes.
He says:--
"Eurania, Cavitorus,
"October 5th.
"'To-morrow,' yes.
"'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death."
"To-morrow! the great event opens. How like a dream it all seems. But,
"Dreams in their development have breath,
And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off our waking toils.
... They speak,
Like symbols of the future.'
"Ah, this dreamy reverie! It brings back the vanished years, for
''Twas just one year ago to-day,
That I remember well,'
when I began this record, at sea, on board the S.S. _Irene_. I wonder
if Sir Marmaduke ever thinks of me. If he does, he thinks me--well, it
doesn't much matter now. He was a good sort, however, and I will never
forget him."
Kind of you, Leo Bergin. By golly! that fellow has a heart, and a head,
too, for that matter, for he is rarely far wrong. He continues:--
"Yes, he was a generous old soul. Rich, good-natured and careless, but
just. He read everything, but--well, perhaps if I had read as much as
he, I would have thought and known as little."
Leo Bergin, I swear I had rather you had forgotten me. That's a nice
way to speak of an absent friend. There is evidently a coolness between
us. Yes, a cool belt, so I will keep my temper.
Proceed, Leo:--
"Had a note from Venesta to-day, and I don't know whether it gives me
more pleasure or sadness. Think of courting a girl, who never had a
father or a mother, a sister or a brother! Daughter of the State! Marry
the daughter of the State! Ye gods, what a mother-in-law!
"I have idled away the day, and how can I make amends, save by
confession and the forming of new resolutions? Well,
"'I resolve! yes, I resolve!
And then I sit me down
And watch that resolution die.
But, "To-morrow"--'
"Eurania, Cavitorus,
"October 6th.
"How balmy the air! How grandly the old sun sweeps along the rim of
this great world! For one such scene New York would give a 'million,'
and every eye would dim with watching the face of the flaming wheel,
and every neck would ache, and every soul would shudder with awe. But,
would not the Shadowas like to see Old Sol passing over their heads
every twenty-four hours, and give them three-hundred and sixty-five
days during the year, instead of having him whirl about their heads,
hip high, giving one night seven months long, and but a hundred and
sixty days of variable length? But it's all in being used to things.
"Well, I must off to the meeting. I am invited to the platform, and I
shall have plenty to record this evening, for to-day is nineteen hours
long. Oh, how weird!
"Later, evening.
"What o'clock is it? I don't know. I know it was nineteen hours after
the old sun first flitted around Mt. Lena, that it finally retired, and
how can a 'new chum' keep track of his running on such erratic lines?
To make it more confusing, this is the self same old sun that mine eyes
have been looking upon for, lo! these thirty wasted years. Who would
have thought that sedate old watchman could ever play such pranks?
Then, too, on the same little old world! Am I waking? Am I sane, or is
this but a hideous delirium?
"I feel sure that all is unreal, that I am the sport of some jesting
destiny--but I will play my part; then, if the vision be not a mockery,
I will not have wasted too much time.
"What an eventful day! Yet, as long as it has been, or even seems to
have been, every hour has been crowded with bewildering incidents--only
bewildering to me, however, for how unlike the hurry, the confusion,
the bustle, the noise and hilarity seen on such occasions on the upper
crust! How different from a horse-race in England, an election-day in
France, or a Fourth of July in America!
"What a happy, orderly, handsome, and amiable people, these. Even their
Deities are amiable. Their temples of worship breathe, not only hope
for the future, but appreciation for the blessings of to-day. With
them, it is not a crown of glory afterwhile, but a living joy. Without
the sorrow of Gautama, the gods of this under-world are as loving and
as amiable. But why should not the Deities be amiable?
"'God made man,' the preacher saith,
'From a handful of dust, by a whiff of breath.'
'No,' say the sages, 'man made God,
From nothing at all, by creative nod;
Organ for organ, and limb for limb,
In the image of man, created he Him.
"These people evidently made their Gods, for they admit it. I wonder if
we made ours?"
Careful Leo!
"What a wonderful city is Eurania! What a wonderful country is
Cavitorus! What a wonderful people are the Shadowas!
"But that meeting! The calm dignity of those four hundred Councillors
of State was amazing. What marvellous dispassionate interest is
taken by the enormous throngs of people, who occupy the main body and
galleries of the Temple.
"Proud Oseba! Well may I call thee 'master.' Oh! how I wish the
appreciative Sir Marmaduke were here."
Yes, Leo, I would like to have been with you, but, maybe, that would
have meant that I would be with you now, out of the cold, poor fellow!
But here the fellow strings it out as though our days were also
nineteen hours long, and our lives a thousand years. He keeps us on so
high a key, that we begin to wonder what there is in it for him. I will
"blue pencil." For the once impatient Leo Bergin has forgotten, I fear,
the customs of this upper world, and that every ear is attuned to the
popular rush.
If you've something good to say,
Get a move!
If you'd have us go your way,
Get a move!
If it's goods, fling out your sample,
If religion, show it's ample,
But--Get a move.
'Pon my word! Leo's "borrowed lines" inspire me with a poetic vein. But
Leo is becoming as tedious as an Australian drought, a West Coast "wet
spell," or a debate on a "no-confidence motion," so I shall here draw
my critical pencil through many lines. Leo Bergin is clearness itself,
and from his language there flows, to the intelligent brain, a true
conception of the situation; but for the sake of brevity--from vanity,
maybe--I shall condense, in my own language.
Well, at the appointed time and place the people assembled. The
four-hundred members of the Council of State occupied favoured seats
in front of the platform, while many thousands of the citizens filled
the stalls and ample galleries. It was an impressive scene. The meeting
once called to order, "Music, such as heard outside of Eurania or
heaven was never, burst upon the ear."
That's Leo's, but I shall be more prosy and more brief.
When the last strains of music had died away, and the applause ceased,
the chairman arose, and after giving a brief but comprehensive review
of the national traditions, the discoveries and events that led to
these unparalleled adventures, he re-read the commission under which
Amoora Oseba acted, and impressed upon the audience the importance of
the report from the lips of Eurania's most gifted son, and the world's
most intrepid explorer.
The chairman said, in opening the proceedings, that while little real
attention had been given to the vague traditions that had floated down
the centuries, there had always been a feeling among the Shadowas that
they were in a most peculiar situation, and that science would some
time solve the mystery that seemed to hang over them.
He said, since the dawn of civilisation there was an "absolute
knowledge" that they were on the inner surface of a hollow planet,
and there was a vague belief that there were like beings on the outer
surface.
He explained that, through the enterprise of the Council of State, and
the intrepidity of Amoora Oseba and his brave comrades, that question,
the most momentous in the long history of Cavitorus, it was hoped, had
been solved, and they had met to hear a report on that most interesting
matter.
He said, as the Committee had given the most careful attention to the
books, maps, charts, and globes brought by the returned party, and
having had the generous assistance of Oseba himself, and Leo Bergin, a
native of the upper world, they had familiarized themselves somewhat
with the geography, history, customs and manners of the various nations
of the upper world, by the assistance of the views to be presented, a
fair understanding would be easily reached. Then, too, as the press
had been generous and enterprising, he thought the people were quite
prepared for an intelligent appreciation of the gifted traveller's
oration. "Mr. Oseba, the father of the new philosophy," said he, "will
now speak to us, as to his children."
However, as the people had requested that the poetess Vauline be
permitted to ask for occasional explanations, this was provided for.
Here the record tells us--I have boiled out twenty pages of delightful
"toffy"--that the chairman introduced Amoora Oseba as: "The most
intrepid explorer the world ever knew," at the same time inviting Leo
Bergin and the other members of the returned party to the platform.
Of this episode of the ceremony, the modest Leo Bergin says: "I was
embarrassed."
A fine canvas, some sixty feet square, had previously been raised at
the end of the hall, and, with the assistance of attendants, a large
instrument, from which could be thrown moveable views of the earth's
surface, was properly adjusted. With an explanation all too brief, as
Leo himself thinks, the first picture was thrown on the wall. It was
our planet, represented by a globe forty feet in diameter, revolving
slowly on its axis. It was a true model of our globe, on Symmes'
theory, the angle to the axis being 23°, with the north opening plainly
visible, and Cavitorus was easily located.
This, we are told, was entirely novel, even to the Committee; but
so skilful are the mechanics of Eurania, that from a small model
or instrument taken across by the party, this wonderful piece of
complicated mechanism was perfected.
What a revelation this must have been, bursting so unexpectedly upon
the astonished gaze of these strange people!
But as in the magic hand of the "loved and lost" Leo Bergin there are
both pen and brush, I here invoke his genius, for my pen falters.
He says:--
"As the vast assembly gazed in almost breathless awe, the master said:
'This is Oliffa, our own planet, as it is hurled through space at
68,000 miles an hour, with this brief forty feet expanded to 8,000
miles.'
[Illustration: _The Drop Scene, Wanganui River._]
"I looked into the faces of the most intellectual, the least emotional,
and most observing people I have ever seen, and yet no pen, no brush,
no imagination could reproduce that scene. Considering the intelligence
and the unemotional character of this vast audience, the evidence of
surprise was really alarming. For once, these people acted almost like
we fools of the 'upper crust.'"
Humph! it makes me crawl.
"The sitting was adjourned."
I'm glad of it, for it makes me shiver. But it seems to me, considering
the cool intellectuality of the Shadowas, that Leo Bergin is drawing
that rather long. Let's see! These Shadowas are a very intellectual,
a very thoughtful, a very cultivated and civilised people. But let us
reason this out. They were utilitarian; amiable as their environment,
and learned, in what was necessary for their happiness, or within their
reach. Yes, but nine-tenths of the universe--of the outer world--was
shut off from them. They, for 21,000 years, had been on one side--the
inside--of a great tube. Practically back of them, the world lifted
abruptly up; front of them, they could but see above the rim of the
bowl of which they were well toward the bottom.
The field of observation was narrow, the visible facts of Nature were
few. At the near opening of the "tube" there was eternal ice and snow,
an endless expanse of frozen mystery; while at the other, there could
sometimes be seen many weird clusters of stars, but, usually, only
clouds and storms, and desert and mountains, and dangerous whirlpools.
They had no telescopes; their point of view was too narrow for the
study of astronomy, and, as all thoughts, all ideas, all conceptions
of all natural objects must be formed from observation--from sensuous
impressions--how could they draw anything like correct conclusions
regarding the outside worlds? Intellectuality does not always, if ever,
mean universal, or even very great, knowledge.
Well, then, maybe Leo was even drawing it mildly. Maybe, a vision so
strange, a view of a known thing from so surprisingly unexpected a
standpoint, at a time, too, when the public imagination was at a high
tension, presenting so strange a phenomenon, would affect the fine but
impressive mind more than it would the less thoughtful. Maybe, I say,
Leo is right, but it seems a little lofty.
But let's back to Leo's notes. He says:--
"After lunch"--that sounds familiar--"the meeting recommenced, and the
people, having conversed fully and freely over the matter, seemed in
their normal condition.
"Oseba turned the globe slowly, explained the nature of the earth and
of the sun, why the days were 'thusly'; then the 'outside' conditions,
and why it was not all eternal frost, as they had imagined. He showed
the map of land and water, how there were on the outside of our
planet, or Oliffa, 1,400,000,000 of people--a few of them very decent
fellows--and suggested the enormous importance of communicating with
them.
"Then he showed a globe, with continents, islands, seas, rivers, and
the geographical divisions of the land as claimed by nations, empires,
states, and communities, making suitable remarks, that his impressions
might lack nothing in clearness.
"He explained that the varied blocks and patches, distinguished by
colored lines, marked the 'possessions' and claims of various races,
nations, or political communities. He here described the enormous
waste of water, and mountains, and uninhabitable land, and how little
really desirable country there was on the outer surface of Oliffa.
Yet, he told his audience that the Outeroos did not dwell in peace
together, but divided the land according to might, and lived isolated
in semi-hostile communities. 'These,' said he, 'are the lands, the
countries, and the peoples I have "discovered."'
"But, he said, while the nature and necessity, the hopes, the
aspirations, and the desires of all men were much the same, there
existed on the outer surface of Oliffa such a variety in customs and
manners adopted for the accomplishment of desired ends, that only by
a visit to, and a study of, all countries, could the object of his
mission be fulfilled, so for five years he and his companions had
wandered, observed, and taken notes, and now it was only by reviewing
the situation with some detail that an intelligent understanding could
be conveyed.
"Here he pointed out on the maps the localities of the various
countries, briefly describing the climate, soil, and style of
government in general, and said he would now discuss a little more
fully the merits of the various countries and peoples--with his
conclusions from the inquiry--for his discoveries had been important
and many.
"He reminded his audience of the prime purpose. His mission was to gain
from the outer world a knowledge that might aid them in the better
management of their domestic affairs; to discover, if possible, a
country to which they might send a colony of the surplus population,
and to find a people with whom they could open communications, that
they might become co-workers to the mutual happiness of the newer and
the older inhabitants of the world.
"Oseba," says the record, "re-arranged his instruments, saying that
he would show us, as occasion required, the globe as a whole or a
sectional map. He would begin his review with a country, probably the
oldest settled, and certainly the most populous, on the outer surface
of Oliffa--that of the Chinese Empire."
Here, I may remark that I have carefully studied the notes of poor
Leo Bergin. They are full, carefully revised, and show a masterly
understanding of the situation, but they are too copious for even
extensive quotation. From many closely and well-written pages, the
notes report Oseba's orations, with hardly a break or comment. For the
sake of brevity, I shall appropriate Oseba's story, and, save by a few
pointed quotations, I shall use my own language in the review of the
next scene. I realise that by this method the story will be marred, the
language will be less picturesque and expressive, and probably less
correct, but it will be economy of space, and, what is of importance to
me, "economy" in the expenditure of intellectual force. That is worthy
of consideration!
The imaginative Leo seemed to be absorbed in the changing scenes of the
unique situation. During a lull in the proceedings he notes:--
"How like a dream! Oh, my soul, how I do hope!"
But, probably being again confronted by that "if," he seems to hang his
head, halt, and ponder, for he writes:--
"Hopes, like joys and promising children, grow into regrets, or wither
and die."
_SCENE IV._
FIRST "DISCOVERY."
SIZING UP AH SIN, AND LU.
The sage Oseba, after locating China on the globe, threw a view of
the map of the Empire on the wall. He explained that this country
"embraced" 4,000,000 square miles of the surface of Oliffa, and
contained about 400,000,000 "souls," or nearly one-third of all the
Outeroos. But this includes the Mandarins, who are not supposed to have
"souls."
With amusing speech, he reviewed the history, the social, political,
and industrial conditions of this "peculiar" people.
It was in China that Oseba became first acquainted with the
aggressiveness, the pretentiousness, and the real power of the European
or Occidental Nations. As a race, these "foreign devils" were taller
in stature, stronger of limb, and lighter in complexion, and they had
better opinions of themselves than the Orientals. Conceit is a strong
factor in all these mighty games.
The clergymen, or missionaries, were among his first acquaintances from
over the seas.
A mischievous consular clerk, he says, who seemed to have a grievance,
used to sing:--
"They came in shoals,
To save the souls,
Of Hop, Lee, Sing, and Wu.
They gathered gear,
Both far and near,
As you or I would do."
These "solemn men," as Oseba called them, apologising for the
digression, came first of their countrymen, not for "filthy lucre,"
but to "save all the sons of Confucius and to take them to Heaven,
where, together, they could sing and associate forever, and forever,
and forever." "This," said Oseba, "seemed kind of them," but he soon
learned that the nations who sent these agents to prepare the social
situation for "the sweet by-and-bye," were "not at home," to Hop, Lee,
Sing, or Wu, during their brief stay on the surface of Oliffa.
"We love you," said the genteel agents of a hundred disputing creeds,
"go with us to a land that is better than day."
"Velly well," says Hop, Lee, Sing, and Wu, "we likely go 'Melica."
"Nay, nay!" says the good shepherd, "afterwhile, in the sweet
by-and-bye. 'Tis of a better world we speak--patience, meekness, and
love."
"Why," asked the poetess Vauline, "are the other Outeroos not 'at home'
to the Chinese while they are quite alive?"
With a smile, Oseba said, "The Chinese, my children, are very
industrious and frugal."
"Are they an inferior race?" asked the poetess Vauline.
"They are 'different,'" said Oseba, "but every race, people, nation,
tribe, or creed on Oliffa, thinks itself 'superior' to any and all
others. Vanity is absent--with few of the Outeroos."
At considerable length, he reviewed the political, social, and
industrial situation of China, and said:--
"All the outer world might learn lessons of patient industry from
China, but for us, there is nothing in China."
After a brief review of the social and political situation of each, he
dismissed all the countries of Continental Asia, but he said Hongkong
and Singapore, two of the world's modern wonders, had done much to
apprise the world of the hidden treasures in these Tartarean regions.
He drew attention to his discovery of Japan, as it appeared on the map
with Asia, and then removing this, he threw the globe on the canvas.
He dwelt in almost raptures on the beauty of the country he was now to
examine. Of the Japanese, of whose condition he would first inquire,
he said they had an old history. They had been isolated for many
centuries. They dreamed in their narrow world, played in their little
backyards, worshipped their monarch, and had been happy; but recently,
touched by the magic wand of modern civilisation, they aroused, and
having for a brief spell cast about them, they "girded up their
loins"--tightened their belts--and hurried to join the front ranks of
the army of progress, with an enthusiasm, and even a wisdom, never
before known on this little globe.
[Illustration: _Cathedral Peaks, Lake Manapouri_]
Once aroused by the exhilarating thrill of progress, they as readily
adjusted themselves to the peculiar conditions of their natural
environments as children to a new playground. The mountains suggest
liberty, the seas adventure, and to the fearless adventurers of those
inhabiting the indented shores of the water-front, are the Outeroos
indebted for all the blessings of modern progress--for civilisation is
the ripened fruit of ocean commerce.
"But," said the sage Oseba, "the present 42,000,000 Japs have but
147,000 square miles of dirt, half of which is waste. Under the
delirium of modern conditions the population is rapidly increasing, and
thus are the inhabitants already beginning to crowd each other. The
nation is becoming wealthy, while the people are becoming poor. The
real estate on little Oliffa is already staked out, and conspicuously
adorned with that strange device--'keep off the grass.' There is no
vacant corner for the surplus population, my children, and the Japs are
land animals."
The sage Oseba told his audience that "Many nations among the Outeroos
regarded the 'Japs' as an 'inferior race,' but if the achievements of
man is the measure of the soul and the intellect, the Japs have no
superiors on little Oliffa, for her recent progress pales the lustre of
the world's authentic history; but,
'If the zenith of strife, sheds a mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before,'"
said the sage, as he tortured the immortal Thomas, the brilliancy
of Japanese story may soon wane, and as, owing to lack of room, her
only path to glory is through unfashionable war, the prospects are not
rosy. Though that nation may, for a long time, remain flamboyant, the
people may soon writhe in a lower misery than 'pagan Japan' ever knew.
However, should the little brown man clip the claws from the Russian
bear, and send him back, lame and growling, to his northern lair,
and then arouse China, and, by the skill of his wonderful capacity,
organize it, Eastern Asia may remember a few thousands of the "insults"
heaped upon her people during the last half-century, and conclude to
test the question of "superiority" by other than industrial methods.
Of the known Monarchies of Asia, he said, the people were ignorant and
impoverished, the officials were insolent and corrupt, the rulers were
vicious and despotic, and the governments rotten beyond cure.
As to India, the sage Oseba spoke with sympathy. "Britain," he said,
"is the only country capable of governing an 'inferior' race. She has
done much to rescue the country from periodic, if not from almost
constant war, and famine, and despair; but the 'people,' the offspring
of thousands of years of misrule and oppression, have reached a
condition of crystallized non-progressiveness, and they must finally
die out, as they cannot adjust themselves to modern conditions. Its
past is sad, its future is hopeless. It will long be a country in which
a few cunning bees may load themselves with golden honey, that their
far away hives may be filled; but slowly and sadly that strange brown
people must pass away. They have reached their ultimate. In them
the oak and the steel, necessary for the contests of the future, are
wanting."
EUROPE, SOMEWHAT "DISCOVERED."
The globe was so adjusted as to give a perfect view of the Continent
of Europe, and, in interesting speech, were the countries and their
peoples described.
Referring to the influence of environment, the orator explained how the
comparative smallness of this continent, the fertility of the soil,
the variety of plant and animal life, the mountains, and plains, and
indented shore lines, with enormous stretch of water-front, together
with its extensive river systems and healthful, but erratic climatic
conditions, marked this as the garden and nursery for the most active,
sturdy, intelligent, and emotional of all peoples on the globe.
Continental Europe covers an area of 3,500,000 square miles, and
supports, in various degrees of opulence and wretchedness, some
380,000,000 people--chiefly men, women, and clergymen--with 20,000,000
men in "uniform," who seem well seized with their own importance. These
latter are very influential personages, as they are equipped with very
persuasive arguments.
The orator explained that the many-hued and irregular patches on the
map represented the possessions and the rule, of as many nations, all
of whom had good opinions of themselves, and stood ready to back their
pretensions.
These countries were ruled by persons who were fortunate in the
selection of parents, or who, at least, were furnished with proper
birth certificates.
But with her many governments and nationalities, he said, there was
constant confusion. There were fear and oppression, for all these
imaginary lines had to be guarded. The armies had to be kept up; the
5,000,000 soldiers must be in constant readiness for slaughter, for
only by this means could the people be sufficiently impressed with the
validity of the birth certificate.
Asked by the poetess Vauline, what these so-called soldiers did for a
living, Mr. Oseba answered:--
"They kill folks, for, short as are the lives of the Outeroos among the
superior nations, wholesale murder is the most honored of all pursuits."
Oseba said: "All the civilised nations keep these armed men, whose
duty it is to kill somebody--to whom they may never have been
introduced--when their ruler has a grievance, and has no time to attend
to the matter himself.
"These armies, too, are potent in diplomatic controversies. When a
monarch has a little misunderstanding with one of his class from a
neighboring paddock, he says in deep tones:--
"'Sire, these are the facts, and if you don't believe it, Sire,
look!'--and he points to his ready battalions.
"To a people who never knew of war or poverty--among whom probably not
one man would care to be killed, or could find a person to accommodate
him if he should, these statements seemed most amazing."
Mr. Oseba concluded, from the conspicuousness of military show, that
every toiler in Europe carried a soldier on his back. And worse--he
had to feed him, to clothe him, to pay him, and then to constantly
submit to his insolence. From every home and fireside in Europe the
most sturdy supporter, and the best loved one, was taken for target
practice; and the burden imposed upon industry for showy barbarism, was
crushing the whole of Europe and driving the people into revolution,
anarchy and ruin.
"Tell us," said the poetess Vauline, "are you speaking of the superior,
the Christian or civilised peoples?"
"Rather," said the Sage, "for only the Christian nations could enjoy,
and only the superior nations could afford such heroic entertainments.
As a fact, the size of the army and range of the gun are the true tests
of a country's civilisation and 'superiority.'
"Strange, my children, but the 'superior' peoples, those worshipping
Him who said, 'Thou shalt not kill,' have the longest guns, and the
strongest battalions, and they are most ready to kill on the least
provocation."
The audience, say the notes, was most impressed when told that these
arguments--loaded--were aimed by the most civilised nations at each
other. Oseba continues:--"The guns and the military show, help to
amuse the people; they regulate home prices, and guard the dignity of
the managers. They are practically the 'keep off the grass' notice;
but, as a fact, my children, they are kept to-day more to overawe the
people who pay the bills than to ward off any external danger.
"But there is a marked difference between the Oriental and the
Occidental. The Oriental is selfish--he wants peace, and is indifferent
to the fate of others. The Oriental don't care what a man believes, or
what god he worships, so long as he pays the liken, and moves on; while
the superior races are deeply concerned about the soul, and they want
to discover all other people, and get them to join them--afterwhile.
"As social units, the Occidentals are more progressive and free, but
less secure; they are more sympathetic, but less just; more interested
in others, but less tolerant; and more inclined to action, and less to
meditation than the Orientals.
"While there is a vast difference in the degree of oppression in
Continental Europe, between class assumption, military despotism,
official insolence, and creed interference, save for those for
whom custom would render hell salubrious, there is no room for a
liberty-loving man--especially is it no place for a people with
the lofty aspirations of the Shadowas. But, oh, the poverty, the
misery, the humiliating sorrow! Oh, my children! If the faith of
those pretentious mortals be not folly, if there be somewhere an
all-powerful God of Love and Justice, if kneeling at His throne there
be hosts of saints and angels, who behold the bloody conflicts, see the
widow's tears and the agonizing gasp of want; who hear the sighs of the
over-worked slave, the groans of poverty and the prayers that go up to
heaven from the white lips of innocence, let the Shadowas implore the
masters of Europe's millions to grant mercy, or the beseeching hearts
of heaven will break, and the tears of the angels will drown the world."
But, like Uphus swinging the doors to welcome the dawn of a new day, we
turn to more pleasing scenes.
_SCENE V._
THE BRITISH ISLES DISCOVERED.
At this stage of the proceedings the Sage Oseba seemed to be in fine
form and in most cheerful spirits.
He remarked that he was now to give his people a brief view of the
"Country of Countries," an island region, just off the humming hive of
uniformed Europe. Here the globe revolved until the British Isles were
conspicuously in view.
"This," said Oseba, "of all the fertile dirt on the surface of Oliffa,
is the most interesting. This, among the countries of the Outeroos,
is the classic land of liberty, the sheet-anchor of Europe for more
than three hundred years. These rock-bound Isles, with a fertile
soil, a salubrious climate, indented shores--fortunately placed
geographically--are by nature the best suited for the development of
the ideal man of any spot on the surface of Oliffa, and having been
peopled by sturdy tribes, all the suggestive hopes of Nature have been
realised."
He told his people that the British Isles embraced 124,000 square
miles, and contained 40,000,000 inhabitants; and that, on these few
acres, there were more muscle and brain, and intellectual force and
stubbornness and haughty pretension, than on any other spot of like
dimensions on the surface of Oliffa.
[Illustration: _Mount Egmont._]
"These sturdy Britons, my children, who have resistlessly held these
historic Islands against all comers for many centuries, have done
more to elevate, to educate, to emancipate, to civilise and to unite
humanity; to free the brain from superstition, the limbs from fetters,
and the world from bondage, than any other nation or race that ever
inscribed its achievements on the pages of human history.
"Britain, my children, has conquered many foes, but her chief glory has
been her conquests in the arts of peace. She has conquered climate, and
famine, and pestilence, and the idolatry that would crucify the new
upon the mouldering cross of the old régime.
"Britain has given Oliffa its industrial and commercial methods, the
tone of its present civilisation, and she is rapidly giving to the
whole race her erstwhile scorned language, and in this there seems
a magic spell that infects all who imbibe its spirit with a burning
desire for liberty. To lisp the English tongue, is to feel--a king.
"Let me tell you a little story, my children, of the most interesting,
the most wonderful--yes, even the most marvellous of all the doings of
man on this most erratic little planet.
"These British Isles are separated from the Continent of Europe by a
damp streak, and they are inhabited by the mixed offspring of a dozen
sturdy and virile tribes, all from the northern water-front. All these
virile tribes, whether natives or invaders, were strongly imbued with
the spirit of liberty--as they understood it. They loved peace--if they
had to fight for it. They loved liberty--to squeeze the other fellow.
But in the fibre of these people there was a sublime stubbornness that
often made things awkward for the authorities.
"Everybody wanted to boss, so nobody would wear the collar. Everybody
wanted to be free, but the feeling was so unanimous that there was
abundance of officers but no privates, so it took many centuries of
disputes, and quarrels, and conflicts, and wars, before they had
accumulated sufficient 'grey matter' to comprehend the fact that
civilised government is a compromise; that where any can be oppressed,
none can be secure; and that liberty, which must halt at the gate of
the other fellow's paddock, is the inalienable right of man.
"But the British can learn, and they have so well mastered this problem
that the highest now yield the most ready obedience to the law, and the
strongest most readily defend the rights of the weak. Though it took
Britain, with her sturdy conceit, centuries to learn this, and though
she, by her fibre and her position as a coloniser, was the legitimate
successor of Phoenicia and Greece, she was rather backward about coming
forward, for after the discovery of America, when all the other nations
were madly participating in western exploits, she stood aloof for over
a hundred years to complete her preparations.
"Then she came with a lunch basket, she came with both feet, she came
to stay, and her achievements find no parallel in the history of human
progress. Before she opened her foreign real estate office, the new
world had been parcelled out. Others had staked their claims--many
over-lapping--and there were plentiful notices to 'keep off the grass,'
but she was undaunted.
"In 1607 she planted her first colony in America. Soon there were
thirteen--an unlucky number--then she foolishly taxed them into revolt,
and here she learned a valuable lesson. Since then, she has never
oppressed a colony; since then, she has never taken one backward step;
since then, she has gradually extended her beneficent hand over the
earth, until over one-fifth of the land is painted red--her favorite
hue--and over one-fourth of the human race bow a willing allegiance to
her flag."
"Oh," says Leo's notes, "would not that please dear old Sir Marmaduke!"
"America, my children, of which I shall soon speak, was Britain's
noblest contribution to human progress, for though the two nations
have moved under different colours for more than a century, their
mutual enterprise has revolutionised the industrial world, and brought
humanity in touch.
"Marvel of marvels! When other nations, now in business, boasted
of world-conquest, the British were but a 'handful,' inhabiting
these rock-bound islands, but as mountains suggest freedom and seas
adventure, looking over the waters, her daring sons went forth--not to
conquer, not to exploit or to devastate, but to develop the world, and
to build homes, and colonies, and states, and empires.
"If Britain took a gun in her outings--and she often did--it was to
level a place for a home, a shop, or a factory. Where she plants her
feet the soil becomes more fertile, and when she meets a savage, he
stands more proudly erect--after the first few sermons.
"She is the motherland of America, and, by mutual efforts, the two have
become the paragons of civilised progress. She saved old India from the
rajahs, robbers, and priests, from famine and pestilence, and made it
a paradise--as compared with its former condition. She saved strange,
beloved, dreamy, half-mythical old Egypt from rot and ruin, and made
it a marvel of hope and progress. She is saving 'Darkest Africa' from
slavery, superstition, and fratricidal war; and, with diamonds on its
golden clasps, she is handing it over to civilisation.
"She gave to civilisation Canada, with its splendid people, its fertile
fields, and its stupendous 'ice-plant'; and she gave to civilisation
the seven colonies of Australasia, with the most wealthy, the most
commercial, the most progressive, the most advanced, educated,
civilised, and free people on the whole outer surface of the planet.
"Then, to show her small respect for dirt, save as a place to
fasten down upon--and her marvellous ambition for industrial
development--behold! the modern commercial wonders, Hongkong and
Singapore! Many nations complain of 'Britain's land-greed,' and that
John Bull--as these sturdy Britons are lovingly called--always carries
a bucket and a brush, and is everywhere painting the world red; but
wherever the carmine shines, liberty and progress are assured. Every
inch of soil wrested from darkness by British valour is handed over to
civilisation--free to all comers.