toil and labor continued, by night and by day. Now, according to the
tradition, a little white ant, one of the kind which devours wood, came
up out of the earth on the very day on which Solomon died, and began to
gnaw the inside of his staff. She gnawed a little every day, until at
last the staff became hollow from one end to the other; and on the day
when she finished her work, the work of the Jinns was also finished.
Then the staff crumbled, and the dead Solomon fell, face foremost, to
the earth. The Jinns, perceiving that they had been slaving day and night
for a master who was dead, fled away with yells of rage and vexation.
But the glorious temple was finished, and King Solomon's work was done.
Tabari tells this story, and it is also found in the Koran; but the origin
of it was nothing more than the well-known custom of Solomon to exercise
personal supervision over those who were working for him.
"I was the person from whom Solomon first heard of the Queen of Sheba.
I had lived in her capital city for several years, and she had summoned
me before her, and had inquired about the places I had visited and the
things I had seen. What I said about this wonderful woman and the
admirable administration of her empire interested Solomon very much,
and he was never tired of hearing me talk about her. At one time
I believe he thought of sending me as an ambassador to her, but afterward
gave up this notion, as I did not possess the rank or position which
would have qualified me to represent him and his court; so he sent a
suitable delegation, and, after a great deal of negotiation and
diplomatic by-play, the queen actually determined to come to see Solomon.
Soon after her arrival with her great retinue, she saw me, and immediately
recognized me, and the first thing she said to me was that she perceived
I had grown a good deal older than when I had been living in her domains.
This delighted me, for before coming to Jerusalem I had allowed my hair
and beard to grow, and had dispensed with as much as possible of my
ordinary erect mien and lightness of step; for I was very much afraid, if
I were not careful, that the wise king would find out that there was
something irregular in my longevity, and an old man may continue to look
old much longer than a middle-aged man can continue to appear middle-aged.
"It was a great advantage to me to find myself admitted to a certain
intimacy with both the king and his visitor the queen. As I was a subject
of neither of them, they seemed to think this circumstance allowed a
little more familiarity than otherwise they would have shown. Besides, my
age had a great deal to do with the freedom with which they spoke to me.
Each of them seemed anxious to know everything I could tell about the
other, and I would sometimes be subjected to embarrassing questions.
"There is a great deal of extravagance and perversion in the historical
and traditional accounts of the tricks which these two royal personages
played upon each other. Most of these old stories are too silly to repeat,
but some of them had foundation in fact. They tell a tale of how the queen
set five hundred boys and five hundred girls before the king, all the
girls dressed as boys and all the boys dressed as girls, and then she
asked him, as he was such a wise man, immediately to distinguish those of
one sex from those of the other. Solomon did not hesitate a moment, but
ordering basins of water to be brought, he commanded the young people to
wash their hands. Thereupon he watched them closely, and as the boys
washed only their hands, while the girls rolled up their sleeves and
washed their arms as well as their hands, Solomon was able, without any
trouble, to pick out the one from the other. Now, something of this kind
really happened, but there were only ten boys and ten girls. But in the
course of ages the story grew, and the whole thing was made absurd; for
there never was a king in the world, nor would there be likely to be one,
who could have a thousand basins ready immediately to put before a company
who wished to wash their hands. But the result of this scheme convinced
the queen that Solomon was a man of the deepest insight into the manners
and customs of human beings, as well as those of animals, birds, and
fishes.
"But there is an incident with which I was personally connected which was
known at the time to very few people, and was never publicly related. The
beautiful queen desired, above all other things, to know whether Solomon
held her in such high esteem because she was a mighty queen, or on
account of her personal attractions; and in order to discover the truth
in regard to this question, she devised a little scheme to which she made
me a party. There was a young woman in her train, of surpassing beauty,
whose name was Liridi, and the queen was sure that Solomon had never seen
her, for it was her custom to keep her most beautiful attendants in the
background. This maiden the queen caused to be dressed in the richest and
most becoming robes, and adorned her, besides, with jewels and golden
ornaments, which set off her beauty in an amazing manner. Then, having
made many inquiries of me in regard to the habits of Solomon, she ordered
Liridi to walk alone in one of the broad paths of the royal gardens at the
time when the king was wont to stroll there by himself. The queen wished
to find out whether this charming apparition would cause the king to
forget her for a time, and she ordered me to be in the garden, and so
arrange my rambles that I could, without being observed, notice what
happened when the king should meet Liridi. I was on hand before the
appointed time, and when I saw the girl walking slowly up the shaded
avenue, I felt obliged to go to her and tell her that she was too soon,
and that she must not meet Solomon near the palace. As I spoke to her
I was amazed at her wonderful beauty, and I did not believe it possible
that the king could gaze upon her without such emotion as would make him
forget for the moment every other woman in the world.
"The queen had purposely made an appointment with him for the same hour,
so that if he did not come she would know what was detaining him. At
length Solomon appeared at the far end of the avenue, and Liridi began
again her pensive stroll. When the king reached her, she retired to one
side, her head bowed, as if she had not expected to meet royalty in this
secluded spot. King Solomon was deep in thought as he walked, but when
he came near the maiden, he raised his eyes and suddenly stopped. I was
near by, behind some shrubbery, and it was plain enough to me that he was
dazzled by this lovely apparition. He asked her who she was, and when
she had told him he gazed at her with still greater attention. Then
suddenly he laughed aloud. 'Go tell the queen,' said he, 'that she hath
missed her mark. The arrow which is adorned with golden trappings and
precious stones cannot fly aright.' Then he went on, still laughing to
himself. In the evening he told me about this incident, and said that if
the maiden had been arrayed in the simple robes which became her station
he would have suspected nothing, and would probably have stopped to
converse with her so long that he would have failed to keep his
appointment with his royal guest.
[Illustration: "'GO TELL THE QUEEN'"]
"The queen was very much annoyed at the ill success of her little
artifice, but it was not long after this that she and the king discovered
their true feeling for each other, and they were soon married. The
wedding was a grand one--grander than tradition relates, grander than the
modern mind can easily comprehend. When they went to the palace to sit
for the first time in state before the vast assembly of dignitaries and
courtiers, the queen found, beside the throne of Solomon, her own throne,
which he had caused to be brought from Sheba in time for this occasion.
This incident, I think, affected her more agreeably than anything else
that happened. Great were the festivities. Honors and dignities were
bestowed on every hand, and I might have come in for some substantial
benefit had it not been that I committed a great blunder. I had fallen
in love with the beautiful Liridi, and as the queen seemed so gracious
and kind to everybody, I made bold to go to her and ask that she would
allow me to marry her charming handmaiden. But, to my surprise, this
request angered the queen. She told me that such an old man as myself
ought to be ashamed to take a young girl to wife; that she was opposed
to such marriages; and that, in fact, I ought to be punished for even
mentioning the subject.
"I retired in disgrace, and very soon afterward I left Jerusalem, for
I have found, by varied experiences, that the displeasure of rulers is
an unhealthful atmosphere in which to live. However, the Queen of Sheba
did not get altogether the better of me. As you know, King Solomon and
his royal wife did not reign together very long. They ruled over two
great kingdoms, each of which required the presence of its sovereign;
so Queen Balkis soon went back to Sheba with more wealth, more soldiers,
more camels, horses, and grand surroundings of every kind, than she had
brought with her. She carried in her baggage-train her royal throne,
but she did not take with her the beautiful Liridi. That lady had been
given in marriage to an officer in Solomon's army, and thirty years
afterward, in the land of Asshur, where her father was stationed,
I married the youngest daughter of Liridi. The latter was then dead, but
my wife, with whom I lived happily for many years in Phoenicia, was quite
as beautiful. I was greatly inclined, at the time, to send a courier with
a letter to the Queen of Sheba, informing her of what had happened; but
I was afraid. She was then an elderly woman, and I was informed that age
had actually sharpened her wits, so that if I had incensed her and given
her reason to suspect the truth about my unnatural age, I believe there
was no known country in which I could have concealed myself from her
emissaries.
"There are many, many incidents which crowd upon my memory," continued my
host, "but--" and as he spoke he pulled out his watch. "My conscience!"
he exclaimed, "it is twenty minutes past three! I should be ashamed of
myself, Mr. Randolph, for having kept you up so long."
We both rose to our feet, and I was about to say something polite, suited
to the occasion, but he gave me no chance.
"I felt I must talk to you," he said, speaking very rapidly. "I have
discovered you to be a man of appreciation--a man who should hear my
story. I have felt for some years that it would soon become impossible for
me to conceal my experiences from my fellow-men. I believe mankind has now
reached a stage of enlightenment--at least, in this country--when the
person who makes strange discoveries which cannot be explained, and the
person who announces facts which cannot be comprehended by the human mind,
need not fear to be punished as a sorcerer, or thrust into a cell as a
lunatic. I may be mistaken in regard to this latter point, but I think
I am right. In any case, I do not wish to live much longer as I have been
living. As I must live on, with generation after generation rising up
about me, I want those generations to know before they depart from this
earth that I am a person who does not die. I am tired of deceptions; I am
tired of leaving the places where I have lived long and am known, and
arriving in other places where I am a stranger, and where I must begin
my life again.
"I do not wish to be in a hurry to make my revelations to the world at
large. I do not wish to startle people without being able to show them
proof of what I say. I wish to speak only to persons who are worthy to
hear my story, and I have begun with you. I do not want you to believe
me until you are quite ready to do so. Think over what I have said,
consider it carefully, and make up your mind slowly.
"You are a young man in good health, and you will, in all probability,
live long enough to assure yourself of the truth or falsity of what
I have told you about my indefinite longevity. I should be glad to relate
my story to scientific men, to physicians, to students; but, as I have
said, we shall wait for that. In the meantime, you may, if you choose,
write down what I have told you, or as much of it as you remember. I have
no written records of my past life. Long, long ago I made such, but
I destroyed them, for I knew not what evil they might bring upon me were
they discovered. But you may write the little I have told you, and when
you feel that the time has come, you may give it to the world. And now
we must retire. It is wicked to keep you out of your bed any longer."
"One word," said I. "Do you intend now to tell your wife?"
"Yes," he answered, "I shall tell her tomorrow. Having reposed confidence
in you, it would be treating her shamefully if I should withhold that
confidence from her. She has often said to me that I do not look a day
older than when I married her. I want her now to know that I need never
look a day older; I shall counterfeit old age no more."
I did not sleep well during what was left of the night, for my mind went
traveling backward and forward through the ages. The next morning, at
breakfast, Mr. Crowder appeared in his ordinary good spirits, but his
wife was very quiet. She was pale, and occasionally I thought I saw signs
of trouble on her usually placid brow. I felt sure that he had told her
his story. As I looked at her, I could not prevent myself from seriously
wondering that a man who had seen Abraham and Sarah, and had been
personally acquainted with the Queen of Sheba, should now be married to a
Quaker lady from North Sixteenth street, Philadelphia. After breakfast
she found an opportunity of speaking to me privately.
"Do you believe," she asked very hurriedly, "what my husband told you last
night--the story of his earthly immortality?"
"I really do not know," I answered, "whether I believe it or not. My
reason assures me that it is impossible; and yet there is in Mr. Crowder's
manner so much sincerity, so much--"
Contrary to her usual habits, I am sure, she interrupted me.
"Excuse me," she said, "but I must speak while I have the chance. You
must believe what my husband has said to you. He has told me everything,
and I know that it is impossible for him to tell a lie. I have not yet
arranged my ideas in regard to this wonderful revelation, but I believe.
If the time should ever come when I shall know I should not believe, that
will be another matter. But he is my husband. I know him, I trust him.
Will you not do the same?"
"I will do it," I exclaimed, "until the time comes when I shall know that
I cannot possibly do so."
She gave me her hand, and I shook it heartily.
[Illustration: "SHE GAVE ME HER HAND, AND I SHOOK IT HEARTILY."]
III
About four months after my first acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Crowder,
I found myself again in New York; and when I called at the house of my
friends, I received from them a most earnest invitation to take up my
abode with them during my stay in the city.
Of course this invitation was eagerly accepted; for not only was the
Crowder house a home of the most charming hospitality, but my interest in
the extraordinary man who was evidently so glad to be my host was such
that not one day had passed since I last saw him in which I did not think
of him, and consider his marvelous statements from every point of view
which my judgment was capable of commanding. I found Mr. Crowder
unchanged in appearance and manner, and his wife was the same charming
young woman I had known. But there was nothing surprising in this.
People generally do not change very much in four months; and yet, in
talking to Mr. Crowder, I could not prevent myself from earnestly
scanning his features to see if he had grown any older.
He noticed this, and laughed heartily. "It is natural enough," he said,
"that you should wish to assure yourself that there is a good foundation
to your belief in what I have told you; but you are in too great a hurry:
you must wait some years for that sort of proof, one way or the other.
But I believe that you do believe in me, and I am not in the least
disturbed by the way you look at me."
After dinner, on the first day of my visit, when we were smoking
together, I asked Mr. Crowder if he would not continue the recital of his
experiences, which were of such absorbing interest to me that sometimes I
found them occupying my mind to an extent which excluded the consideration
of everything relating to myself and the present time.
"From one point of view," he said, "that would be a bad thing for you:
but I don't look at it in that way; in fact, I hope you may become my
biographer. I will furnish you with material enough, and you can arrange
it and put it in shape; that is, if, in the course of a few years, you
consider that, in doing what I ask of you, you will be writing the true
life of a man, and not a collection of fanciful stories. So I hope you
may find that you have not lost your time when thinking so much of a man
of the past."
Now, there is no doubt that I did most thoroughly believe in Crowder. I
had argued with myself against this belief to the utmost extent of my
ability, and I had now given up the effort. If I should disbelieve him
I would deprive myself of one of the most precious privileges of my
existence, and I did not intend to do so until I found myself absolutely
forced to admit that I was mistaken. Time would settle all this, and all
that I had to do now was to listen, enjoy, and be thankful for the
opportunity.
"I am not going to tell any stories now," he said, "for my wife has not
overcome her dislike to tobacco smoke, and she has insisted that she
shall be one of my hearers when I tell stories of my past life to you;
but I can tell you this, my friend: she will believe every word I say;
there can be no possible doubt of that. I have told her a good many things
since I saw you last, and her faith in me is a joy unspeakable."
Of course I was delighted to hear that this charming lady was to be my
fellow-auditor, and said so.
"I often think of you two," said Mr. Crowder, contemplatively leaning
back in his arm-chair. "I think of you together, but I am bound to say
that the thought is not altogether pleasant." I showed my amazement at
this remark. "It can't be helped," he said; "it can't be helped. It's
one of the things I have to suffer. I have suffered it over and over
again thousands of times, but I never get used to it. Here you are, two
young people, young enough to be my children: one is my wife; the other,
I am proud to say, my best friend. You are the only persons in the world
who know my story. You have faith in me, and the thought of that faith is
the greatest pleasure of my life. Year by year you two will grow older;
year by year you will more nearly approach my own age, and become,
according to the ordinary opinion of the world, more suitable companions
for me. Then you will reach my age. We shall be three gray-haired friends.
Then will come the saddening time, the mournful days. You two will grow
older and older, and I shall remain where I am--always fifty-three. Then
you will grow to be elderly--elderly people; at last, aged people. If you
live long enough I shall look up to you as I would to my parents."
This was a state of things I had never contemplated. I could scarcely
appreciate it.
"Of course," he continued, "I wish you both to live long; but don't you
see how it affects me? But enough of that. Here comes Mrs. Crowder, and
with her all subjects must be pleasant ones."
"I think thee must buy some short cigars," she said, just putting her
head inside the door, "to smoke after dinner. If large ones are necessary,
they can be smoked after I go to bed. I am getting very impatient; for now
that Mr. Randolph is here, I believe that thee is going to be unusually
interesting."
We arose immediately, and joined Mrs. Crowder in the library.
This lady's use of the plain speech customary with Quakers was very
pleasant to me. I had had but little acquaintance with it, and at first its
independence of grammatical rules struck upon me unpleasantly; but I soon
began to enjoy Mrs. Crowder's speech, when she was addressing her husband,
much more than I did the remarks she made to me, the latter being always
couched in the most correct English. There was a sweetness about her
"thee" which had the quality of gentle music; and when she used the word
"thy" it was pronounced so much like "thee" that I could scarcely perceive
the difference. To her husband and child she always used the Quaker speech
of the present day; and as I did not like being set aside in this way, I
said to her that I hoped there was no rule of the Society of Friends which
would compel her to make a change in her form of speech when she addressed
me. "If thee likes," she said, with a smile, "thee is welcome to all the
plain speech thee wants." And after that, when she spoke to me, she did
not turn me out among the world's people.
"Now, you know," said Mr. Crowder, "that I'm not going to play the part
of an historian. That sort of discourse would bore me, and it would bore
you. If there is any kind of thing that you would like to hear about,
all you have to do is to ask me; and if you don't care to do this, I will
tell you whatever comes up in my memory, without any regard to chronology
or geography, just as I talked to you before. If I were to begin at the
beginning and go straight along, even if I skipped ever so much, the
story would--it would be a great deal too long."
I am sure that Mrs. Crowder and I both felt what he did not wish to
say--that we were not likely to live to hear it all.
"There are a great many things I should like to ask thee," said Mrs.
Crowder, speaking quickly, as if to change the subject of her thoughts;
"but I believe I have forgotten most of them. But here is something I
should like to know--that is," she said, turning to me, "if thee hasn't
anything in thy mind which thee wishes to ask about?"
I noticed that she pronounced "thy" very distinctly, a little bit of
grammatical conscience probably obtruding itself. Of course, I had
nothing to ask, and she put her question: "What _did_ thee do in
the dark ages?"
Crowder laughed. "That is a big question," said he, "and the only answer
I can give you in a general way is that there were so many things that
I was not able to do, or did not dare to do, that I look upon those
centuries as the most disagreeable part of my whole life. But you must
not suppose that everybody felt as I did. A great many of the people by
whom I was surrounded at that doleful period appeared to be happier and
better satisfied with their circumstances than any I have known before
or after. There was little ambition, less responsibility; and if the poor
and weak suffered from the rapacity and violence of the rich and strong,
they accepted their misfortunes as if they were something they were bound
to expect, such as bad weather. I am not going to talk history, and there
is one thing that your question reminds me of. During that portion of the
middle ages which is designated as dark, I employed myself in a great many
different ways: I was laborer, sailor, teacher, and I cannot tell you what
besides; but more frequently than anything else I was a teacher."
"Thee must have been an angel of light," Mrs. Crowder remarked.
"No," said he; "an angel of light would have been very conspicuous in
those days. I didn't pose for such a part. In fact, if I had not
succeeded in appearing like a partial ignoramus I should have been
obliged to go into a monastery, for in those days the monks were the only
people who knew anything. They expected to do all the teaching that was
done; but, for all that, a few scholars cropped up now and then, and here
and there, who did not care to have monks for masters; and by instructing
these in a very modest, quiet way I frequently managed to make a living."
"I should think," I said, "that at any time and in any period you would
have been a person of importance, with your experience and knowledge of
men."
Mr. Crowder shook his head. "No," said he; "not so. To make myself of
importance in that time I must have been a soldier, and the profession of
arms, you know, is one I have always avoided. A man who cannot be killed
should take care that he be not wounded."
"I am so glad that thee did take care," ejaculated Mrs. Crowder; "but
even I cannot see how thee kept out of fighting in those disorderly
times."