Jerry Sant saw Mrs. Crowe driving in victorias with people who wore
smartish bonnets. Professional experience enables him to recognize
real ospreys. Three or four times he met her in her mauve, going to an
evening party. From this he deduced that she was enjoying herself; and,
it being quite contrary to the principles of socialism that any one
should enjoy themselves except under socialist supervision, he put on
a red necktie and paid her a visit. It was a wet day: she had nothing
particular to do; and she was not unwilling to chat about herself.
Looking at his florid sweaty vulgarity, it soothed her vanity to tell
this plebeian of the patricians whom she had captured, the Honble. Mrs.
This, the Baroness von That, and Lady Whatshemame of the Other. They
were so kind. Their kettledrums and bridge-routs were so shick. You met
such thoroughly Nice people you know. And the American millionairesses
were so amusing. They had such shocking manners. Mrs. Crowe actually
had seen one drinking soup out of a plate. Jerry had been getting more
and more morose while she chattered; and now he burst out:
"I know better than to sup my soup out of the plate. I sup them with a
spoon."
"Of course you do, Mr. Sant. But these American women have no manners
whatever."
"Ah weel now, we've had enough of that. Look ye now, I've been letting
ye go your own way a bit; and I think the time's come when ye might
introduce me to some of your gran' friens. A'm none too gey at the
hotel; and besides that, it's me due."
She found the man a sudden and accented nuisance: but she couldn't
possibly quarrel with the keeper of the purse. "I'm sure, if you think
it advisable, I don't want to keep you back. I don't quite see though
how I can take you with me, as you say. You see you don't know any of
these people."
"Well and fhat of that?"
"Why you silly man of course you've got to be introduced."
"How did you get introduced yersel'?"
"Oh, why, I was converted, you see."
"Imphm! Well, I'll let ye know I'm not for being converted, as ye call
it."
"No, I suppose not. I think it rather a pity, you know; because I'm
sure you'd have no difficulty afterwards."
"A willna!"
"Perhaps if I were to hint that you were thinking about it----"
"Ah weel, ye might do that now. Look here ma wumman. Why can't ye
introduce me yersel'?"
"Oh I couldn't. People would want to know what you were to me----"
"I'm your paymaster."
"Oh how can you say such things!"
"Because I am."
"Yes I know you are: but you needn't say it out so bluntly. I'll tell
you what I might do. You be at the tea-place in Piazzer Dispaggner
every afternoon from four to five. I'm sure to come in to-morrow or the
next day with a few friends; and, if you were to bow to me, I might
recognize you and ask you to our table."
"Wumman A'll dae't. Who pays for the tea, though?"
"Sometimes I do; and sometimes whoever I come with."
"Well then I'm coming. And I'll let you know to have a good blow out,
plenty o' scones and bit-cakeys an' a' that. I'll pay; and I don't mind
if it costs me three shilling, so long as ye introduce me to some of
these mashers."
"Very well. But remember, you're thinking about becoming Catholic."
"A'm not."
"Dear me, Mr. Sant, but you must be. Then they'll take an interest in
you and ask you to their parties." "Ah weel then, I am."
"Who _is_ this Mr. Sant?" said a Pict to an Erse (who called himself
"The" before his surname). The italicized question was asked at a
reception in Mrs. O'Jade's flat on Palazzo Campello, about a fortnight
after the previous confabulation.
"I really don't quite know, beyond that he's a friend of that Mrs.
Crowe who was converted the other day."
"Is he a convert too?"
"No, not yet: but they say he's likely to be. They're both Liblabs, you
know."
"Oh, yes of course, I read about them in the papers. What a score it
will be for the Church! Well, what do you make of him?"
"Oh he seems earnest enough: but he's hardly got a word to say for
himself. And I don't think he's quite a gentleman, you know."
Hadrian sat at the end of one of His long bare tables. On both sides
of Him were two great numbered baskets. At the other end of the
table was a huge leathern sack containing the pontifical mail. At
the sides of the table stood the two Gentlemen of the Apostolic
Chamber with stilettos. The Pope unlocked the sack; and Sir John and
Sir Iulo in turn drew out a handful of letters and displayed them
before Him. He scanned the handwriting of each; and named a numbered
basket into which the designated missive was cast. When the sack was
empty, the contents of the baskets were dealt with. All the letters
in the first were addressed "To His Holiness the Pope, Prefect of
the Holy Roman and Universal Inquisition." Hadrian took the stiletto
from Sir Iulo; and slit open each envelope which Sir John presented.
Thus they were returned to the basket, and sent to be perused by the
Cardinal-Secretary-of-State. The two gentlemen seated themselves at the
table: cut-open the envelopes of the second basketful; and pushed them
within the Pope's reach. These were addressed in known hand-writings.
Hadrian read the letters, and sorted them in separate heaps before Him:
each heap was weighted by a miniature ingot of pure copper, the colour
of which He immensely admired. Two letters were placed face downwards
by themselves. The envelopes from the third basket were opened, and
the letters extracted by the gentlemen: Hadrian only looked-at and
arranged them. The fourth basket contained newspapers, which Sir John
opened and examined for marked paragraphs. If any such were found, Sir
Iulo folded the paper open and placed it: otherwise the paper was torn
and returned to the basket. Meanwhile the Pope more closely inspected
the letters which He had retained. The gentlemen placed a couple of
phonographs on the table: inserted new cylinders; and retired. Hadrian
got up and locked the doors. He took the little heaps of letters from
under the ingots; and spoke into the machine formal acknowledgments of
receipt and a short blessing, or definite instructions for detailed
responses, until all had received attention except the two letters
which lay by themselves, and three others. He unlocked the door. The
gentlemen entered; and carried the instruments with the articulate
cylinders to Cardinals Sterling, Whitehead, Leighton, della Volta, and
Fiamma, who acted as pontifical secretaries in the ninth antechamber.
Hadrian Himself wrote to His well-beloved son William, to His beloved
son Edmund Earl Marshal of England, and to His beloved son A. Panciera.
These being enclosed and addressed, He was left alone. He took the two
remaining letters to the easy-chair by the window; rolled and lighted a
cigarette; and considered them.
"Reverend and Dear Sir,
Since our late esteemed interview when I had the pleasure of
addressing your lordship on the subject of Socialism I have been
anxiously awaiting the favour of an acknowledgment of same. In case
the subject has slipped your memory I should remind you that I
informed you previously on behalf of the Liblab Fellowship that we
were not averse to give our careful consideration to any proposal
that you may see fit to make, with a view to co-operation with us
against the horde of cosmopolitan gold-pigs who monopolise the means
of existence production distribution and exchange in order to procure
a complete change in the entire social organism. I am quite at a
loss to understand on what grounds you have not favored me with a
direct reply unless there is anything on which you would like farther
explanations, in that case I will be most happy to call on you per
previous appointment for which I am now waiting at the above address
neglecting my business at considerable expense and inconvenience
to myself which a man in my humble position compared with yours
(!) cannot be expected to incur and common courtesy demands should
be made good. I therefore trust that in view of the not altogether
pleasant facts that are in my possession your lordship shall see fit
to send me a private interview at your earliest convenience. Hopeing
that I will not have occasion to feel myself compelled to proceed
farther in this matter if you leave me no option but to do so, and
assuring your lordship that your valued instructions as to time and
place of meeting will have my fullest and promptest attention.
I remain Sir,
Yours truly,
Comrade Jeremiah Sant. L.F.
P.S. Perhaps I may mention by way of hint that we might be able to
come to some arrangement for our mutual advantage not altogether on
the above lines, and I beg to advise your most reverent lordship that
I would be willing to meet your wishes if the terms are suitable.
Asking to hear from you soon and hoping that any misunderstandings
may presently be cleared up.
J.S."
"Dearest dearest Georgie
For although you have no more the old sweet name my heart is ever
faithfull and will not let me call you by any other. Does it not
remind you of that day of long ago when the floods were out in the
meadows and you and I and Joseph were coming home from the Bellamys,
and you lifted me in your strong arms and carried me through the
water that covered the path. How Joseph laughed. He never thought
it worth his while to take care of me as you did. But I knew that
it was because you loved me and my heart went out to you then and
never has been my own since. If only you knew how deeply I regret
the unpleasantness which arose since then I think you would pity me
a little. Georgie do forgive me. It is my love which made me mad. I
hate myself for what I did and would give the world to undo it. I was
a mad fool then. I did not know what I was doing or how you would
take it so seriously. Georgie you were always good and I was wicked.
But haven't you punished me enough. Think of what I have suffered all
these years apart from you. Every time you have refused to notice me
has been like a stab in my heart. Georgie take pity on me. Do you
know that I watch your window every day and watch you walk about the
town. Several times you have brushed against me in the street without
knowing it for I will do nothing to damage you any more, dearest
Georgie. I know very well that ladies are not admitted to your palace
for I have had myself made a Catholic in order to get a little nearer
you, but all priests have housekeepers. Georgie do let me come and be
your housekeeper. I promise on my word of honour that I will serve
you faithfully in any and every way. We might be so happy. Nothing
would give me greater joy than to work my fingers to the bone for
you. Georgie do believe me when you see how I am willing to humiliate
myself so for you. Of course I never speak of our former relations
except that I say I knew you slightly when Joe was alive. But as for
love I never mention it for it was nipped in the bud by my wickedness
and never has been anything but a trial to me, and I should not wish
my love to do you any harm. Don't think that last sentence means
anything spiteful, it is not so indeed but I know you distrust me. I
only mean that it would be better for both of us if you would not go
on being so cruel heartless dreadful and neglectful of
Your devoted and distracted
N.
P.S. I have a suspicion that the man who is with me is no friend of
yours. Georgie, be wise and let me see you at least and tell you what
I suspect. It is only your welfare I have at heart, don't refuse me
Georgie don't."
Hadrian read these letters through two or three times, noting the
yapping and the yowling of the one, the panting and the whining of
the other, the barking of both. He turned to the window and looked at
nothing until He had finished His cigarette. His thin lips stiffened
in scorn and drew downward into the straight inflexible line. His
impulse was to make an end of the male animal in a tank of aquafortis,
if such a convenience only had formed part of the pontifical
paraphernalia: as for the female, he remembered George Meredith's
sentence, and would have liked to squeeze all the acid out of her at
one grip and toss her to the divinities who collect exhausted lemons.
The next minute, "The dogs, the dirty abject obscene dogs." He spat
suddenly; and carried the letters to the safe in the bedroom where He
locked them up. He prohibited Himself from taking further note of them.
He was conscious that this course was quite wrong. But there it was. He
had a busy afternoon before Him; and He diligently read in His breviary
to prepare for Himself a convenient frame of mind. Pursuing His policy
of emphasizing the difference between the Church and the World, He
had summoned the generals of religious orders. To each of these He
wished to say some words of admonition, words which would remain in the
memory, and be passed from mind to mind, from mystic to thyrsos-bearer,
from general to postulant. He rather enjoyed the sticking of labels on
people and things now, because He could do it to some purpose. On the
other hand, He had a feeling that He only was touching surfaces. Still,
here and there the surface might be soft and capable of receiving
impression: or here and there might be a crevice or a gap which He
could fill with a cartridge. Somehow, anyhow, His words and acts must
be made to penetrate to the roots of things, to influence fundamentals.
At fifteen o'clock He mounted the small throne. One by one the
generals passed into the Presence: heard apostolic words; and passed
out again--Servites, Premonstratensians, Augustinians, Cistercians,
Carthusians, Oblates, Marists, Passionists, Carmelites, Dominicans.
To the General of Trinitarians, He commended Africa; and ordained
that twenty friars should preach as of old in the market-places
of England, Canada, and Australasia, for African missions. To the
General of the Order of Charity, He would not say anything at present
concerning the condemned Forty Propositions: but He would say Love your
enemies the Jesuits, and "turn not away thine eye from the needy and
give none occasion to curse thee." To the General of Benedictines, He
gave command to keep his monks in their monasteries, and to prohibit
them from appearing in the correspondence-columns of newspapers,
either under their religious names or their renounced secular
styles. He reminded the Minister-General of Capuchins of the second
minister-general, the apostate Ochino, who had preferred worldly things
and had preached polygamy; and also of the fact that playing fast and
loose with worldly things continued to produce apostate Capuchins. To
the Minister-General of Franciscans, He commended Asia; and ordained
that fifty friars should preach as of old in the market-places of
England, Canada, and Australasia, for Asiatic missions. Then He shewed
the grey scapular and cord which He was wearing next to His skin;
and asked that the brotherhood should name Him to Blessed Brother
Francis as a little brother who was not gay but sad, not lively but
weary, and who had but little love. Hadrian, as Brother Serafino of
the Third Order, kissed the Minister-General's naked feet, and begged
a blessing. Returning to the throne, the Supreme Pontiff imparted
apostolic benediction. And Brother Peter Baptist went out into the
noisy antechambers with his clean bright face all-glorious, and light
in his serene blue eyes. The Prepositor-general of Jesuits entered
with ostentation of the knowledge that, if Hadrian the Seventh was the
English White Pope, he himself was the English Black Pope. He had that
benevolently truculent manner which women deem adorable. As he made his
obeisance, Hadrian noted a little lacquered snuff-box in his hand and a
frightful bandanna oozing from the pocket of his cassock. His Holiness
instantly carried war into the camp, by reminding Father St. Albans of
the bulls of Urban VIII. and Innocent X. which prohibit snuff-taking on
pain of excommunication.
"No doubt those bulls are obsolete: but Your Reverency will have the
goodness to abstain from practising the filthy habit in Our Presence."
The sallow General pocketed his snuff-box; and produced the stony
mild smile which is used upon eccentricity. The Pope remarked that
the Company of Jesus appeared to be in a verisimilar position to the
Wesleyans, in that they had departed a very long way from the will
and spirit of their founder. He used His slowly biting monotone,
because He wished to save this General the trouble of misunderstanding
Him. He said that, with the word "Borgia" and the word "Nero," the
word "Jesuit" perhaps was the eponym for all that was vilest in the
world. That was very undesirable. Not that the good opinion of the
world was desirable. Far from that. But Christians ought not to enjoy
anything, not even an evil reputation, under false pretences. He
wished to do something to rectify the erroneous opinion which the
world had formed about the Company of Jesus, to straighten-out the
tangle, correcting and directing; and, as men were wont to judge more
by actions than by words, He did not propose to beat the air with vain
expostulations, explanations, expositions of virtue, and so forth.
It had been done a thousand times before. Historic calumnies had
been refuted from pulpits and in pamphlets with unanswerable logic:
but still the man-in-the-street said "Jesuit" when he meant "a foxy
wolf." The Pontiff was not going to try to persuade the world away
from its nonsense. He wished the Company of Jesus to give the world a
proximate occasion of persuading itself. Therefore, He proposed to the
General, in private, a return to the observance of the good old rule
and a cultivation of the saintly spirit of St. Iñigo Lopez de Recalde.
He wished the Jesuits to reconsider their position, as it were: to
surcease from the--not always mortally sinful--not always tangibly
illegal--but perhaps--generally shady transactions----
The General interrupted. He was prepared to bully.
Hadrian froze him with a glance of blazing supremacy. "Make no
mistake," the Pope said: "We are not intending Ourself to punish your
Company, nor to degrade your Companions who so diligently degrade
themselves, nor to confer fictitious and unmerited importance upon
you by decrees of dissolution or suppression. We do not forget the
badness of the agents in the goodness of the cause nor the goodness of
the cause in the badness of the agents." He was looking through His
all-observant half-shut eyes straight at the bridge of the General's
fine nose. That is the most exacerbating form of regard: for, while
it holds the hearer rigid and intense, it effectually prevents
retaliation. Much may be done with the eye in wordy warfare. You may
challenge: you may intimidate: you may quell: but you may do none of
these things while your opponent refuses to lend his eye to yours. So
this sleek General found. The Pontiff held him with an eye which gazed
so nearly into his, that he perforce was obliged to lie in wait for the
flicker when his own could seize it. Hadrian knew the dodge. He had not
watched and dichotomized men and Jesuits from the observatory and in
the dissecting-room of His loneliness during twenty years for nothing.
At the end of His sentence, His gaze swept right away. He rose and went
to the window. Looking out over the roofs of Golden and Immortal Rome,
He continued in a milder tone, "We have cited Your Reverency only to
hear Our paternal chiding of your naughty ways, to the end that ye may
amend the same, returning of your own free will to the observance of
the spirit as well as of the letter of those rules of life and conduct
which your Father, St. Ignatius, made for you."
He paused. The General, who would have preferred wheeling manure in a
barrow at the behest of a novice (A.M.D.G. of course) to listening to
this rodent exhortation, took it that the audience was ended; and made
shift to get on to his knees.
But the Pope went on. "For, it is of the nature of all human things
to deteriorate; and ye have made yourselves a scorn and hissing among
men. The _Nouvelle Revue_ states that ye are in great decadence. The
statement may be one of your own devices for distracting the attention
of the world from your nefarious machinations. Or it may be a fact. In
both cases it is damnable and damnatory." He paused again.
"Jube, Domine, benedicere," the General intoned, with a determination
to force the apostolic benediction, and to get back to the Via del
Seminario as soon as possible. He felt that he had some very important
things to say to his socii.
But the pitiless voice probed him again: "Wherefore We admonish you
that ye set your house in order while ye have time."
The General's oval jaw took an extra lateral crease. His hands twitched
and pattered down and up and down in a talpine manner. Suddenly the
inflexible fathomless eyes flashed on him. Axioms like sleet tersely
lashed him.
"Remember that ye only exist on sufferance. Dismiss delusions; and see
yourselves as ye really are. Strip, man, strip. Search out your own
weaknesses: lest, not the Father but, the Enemy discover the sores, and
the diamonds, which ye are hiding. For ye do not merit the reputation,
which is associated with your name, on the strength of which ye trade."
The glossy black priest jerked to his feet: genuflected; and was
backing from the white Presence. The Pontiff, whose mood had become
quite pythian, stepped up to him, laying a firm hand on the bow of the
ribbons of his ferraiuola. "Wince not, dear son. Three-fourths of you
trade upon the reputation of your Company for cunning and learning.
One-fourth of you is the Christians of the world. At least be frank
with yourselves. Let us have more of the flower of your Christianity.
Let us have less of your false pretences. Your erudition is showy
enough. Oh yes. But it is so superficial. Your machinations are sly
enough. Oh yes. But they are so silly. Ye are not geniuses. Ye are not
monsters either of vice or of virtue: but only ridiculous mediocrities,
always pitifully burrowing, burrowing like assiduous moles, always
seeing your pains mis-spent, your elaborate schemes wrecked, except
sometimes, when--to complete the metaphor--quite by accident, ye chance
to kill a king. This is not to the Greater Glory of God. Then stop.
Stop, here and now."
They were by the door. The Black Pope had one hand under the blue-linen
curtain, and was fumbling for the handle. The White Pope quickly
clinched His admonition. "Don't pretend to be Superior Persons. Don't
give yourselves such airs. Don't gad about in hansom cabs quite so
much. Don't play billiards in public-houses. Don't nurture jackals. Try
to be honest. Don't oppress the poor. Don't adore the rich. Don't cheat
either. Tell the truth: or try to. Love all men, and learn to serve.
And don't be vulgar."
Father St. Albans had got the door open. He looked like a flat female
with chlorosis. He was green and quite speechless. But he bowed
profoundly as the decurial chamberlains came forward to escort him
through the antechambers.
"Benedicat te Omnipotens Deus.... Go in peace and pray for Us," purred
the Supreme Pontiff, rubbing His left hand with His pocket handkerchief
and returning to the window.