by Mark Twain
"Religion has removed from the heart to the mouth. You have the word of Noah for it. Time was, when two sects, divided but by a single hair of doctrine, would fight for that hair, would kill, torture, persecute for it, die for it. That religion was in the heart; it was vital, it was a living thing, it was the very man himself. Who fights for his religion now, but with the mouth? Your civilization has brought the flood. Noah has said it, and he is preparing."
PASSAGE FROM A LECTURE
The monthly meeting of the Imperial Institute took place on the 18th. With but two exceptions the seats of the Forty Immortals were occupied. The lecturer of the evening was the distinguished Professor of the Science of Historical Forecast. A part of his subject concerned two of the Laws of Reginald Selkirk, commonly called the Mad Philosopher, namely, the "Law of Intellectual Averages" and the "Law of Periodical'
Repetition." After a consideration, at some length, of cognate matters, he said:
"I regard these Laws as established. By the terms of the Law of Periodical Repetition nothing whatever can happen a single time only; everything happens again, and yet again, and still again -- monotonously. Nature has no originality -- I mean, no large ability in the matter of inventing new things, new ideas, new stage effects. She has a superb and amazing and infinitely varied equipment of old ones, but she never adds to them. She repeats -- repeats -- repeats -- repeats. Examine your memory and your experience; you will find it is true. When she puts together a man, and is satisfied with him, she is loyal to him, she stands by him through thick and thin forevermore, she repeats him by billions and billions of examples; and physically and mentally the average remains exactly the same, it doesn't vary a hair between the first batch, the middle batch and the last batch. If you ask, 'But really -- do you think all men are alike?'
I reply, ' I said the average does not vary.'
" 'But you will have to admit that some individuals do far overtop the average --
intellectually, at least.'
"Yes, I answer, and Nature repeats those. There is nothing that she doesn't repeat. If I may use a figure, she has established the general intellectual level of the race at say, six feet. Take any billion men and stand them in a mass, and their headtops will make a floor -- a floor as level as a table. That floor represents the intellectual altitude of the masses -- and it never changes. Here and there, miles apart, a head will prefect above it a matter of one intellectual inch, so to speak -- men of mark in science, law, war, commerce, etc.; in a spread of five thousand miles you will find three heads that project still an inch higher, men of national fame -- and one that is higher than those by two inches, maybe three -- a man of (temporarily) world-wide renown; and finally, somewhere around the circumference of the globe, you will find, once in five centuries of waiting, one majestic head which overtops the highest of all the others -- an author, a teacher, an artist, a martyr, a conqueror, whose fame towers to the stars, and whose fame will never perish, never fade, while time shall last; some colossus supreme above all the human herd, some unmated and unmatable prodigy like him who, by magic of the forces born in him, turned his shoe-hammer into the scepter of universal dominion.
Now in that view you have the ordinary man of all nations; you have the here-and-there man that is larger-brained and becomes distinguished; you have the still rarer man of still wider and more lasting distinction; and in that final head rising solitary out of the stretch of the ages, you have the limit of Nature's output.
"Will she change this program? Not while time lasts. Will she repeat it forever?
Yes. Forever and ever she will do those grades over and over again, always in the same proportions, and always with the regularity of a machine. In each million of people, just so many inch-superiorities; in each billion, just so many two-inch superiorities -- and so on; and always that recurrent solitary star once in an age, never oftener, never two of them at a time.
"Nature, when pleased with an idea, never tires of applying it. She makes plains; she makes hills; she makes mountains; raises a conspicuous peak at wide intervals; then loftier and rarer ones, continents apart; and finally a supreme one six miles high.
She uses this grading process in horses; she turns out myriads of them that are all of one common dull gait; with here and there a faster one; at enormous intervals a conspicuously faster one; and once in a half-century a celebrity that does a mile in two minutes. She will repeat that horse every fifty years to the end of time.
"By the Law of Periodical Repetition, everything which has happened once must happen again and again and again -- and not capriciously, but at regular periods, and each thing in its own period, not another's and each obeying its own law. The eclipse of the sun, the occultation of Venus, the arrival and departure of the comets, the annual shower of stars -- all these things hint to us that the same Nature which delights in periodical repetition in the skies is the Nature which orders the affairs of the earth. Let us not underrate the value of that hint.
"Are there any ingenuities whereby you can discredit the law of suicide? No. It is established. If there was such and such a number in such and such a town last year, that number, substantially will be repeated this year. That number will keep step, arbitrarily, with the increase of population, year after year. Given the population a century hence, you can determine the crop of suicides that will be harvested in that distant year.
"Will this wonderful civilization of today perish? Yes, everything perishes. Will it rise and exist again? It will -- for nothing can happen that will not happen again. And again, and still again, forever. It took more than eight centuries to prepare this civilization -- then it suddenly began to grow, and in less than a century it is become a bewildering marvel. In time, it will pass away and be forgotten. Ages will elapse, then it will come again; and not incomplete, but complete; not an invention nor discovery nor any smallest detail of it missing. Again it will pass away, and after ages will rise and dazzle the world again as it dazzles it now -- perfect in all its parts once more. It is the Law of Periodical Repetition.
"It is even possible that the mere names of things will be reproduced. Did not the Science of Health rise, in the old time, and did it not pass into oblivion, and has it not latterly come again and brought with it its forgotten name? Will it perish once more?
Many times, I think, as the ages drift on; and still come again and again. And the forgotten book, Science and Health, with Key to the Scriptures -- is it not with us once more, revised, corrected, and its orgies of style and construction tamed by an educated disciple? Will it not yet die, once, twice, a dozen times, and still at vast intervals rise again and successfully challenge the mind of man to understand it? We may not doubt it. By the Law of Periodical Repetitions it must happen."
PASSAGE FROM THE DIARY OF THE MAD PHILOSOPHER
Received in audience by the Most Illustrious, Most Powerful, Most Gracious, Most Reverend, her Grandeur, the Acting Head of the Human Race, whom I addressed by these her official titles, and humbly thanked her, kneeling; then by permission indicated by a gesture, rose and stood before the Throne. It was in the Hall of Sovereigns, in the same palace which she and the Family have occupied I do not know how many centuries, and which they prefer to any other. It is still the most gorgeous --
and I think the most beautiful, too -- in the Empire. Its gilded masses cover miles of space, and blaze like a fallen sun. Its interior parks and gardens and forests stretch away into the mellow distances, an apparently limitless paradise. A hundred thousand persons, not counting the brigades and divisions of Household Troops, serve the Parents and certain Eden-born families of their immediate descendants in this place.
Yet the palace takes up no inordinate room in this monster capital, whose population almost defies figures, and which contains many streets that are upwards of two hundred miles long without a break.
The Hall of Sovereigns is a glittering vast rotunda which ancient masters of all the arts wrought into a vision of glory and beauty with sculpture
d marbles and incrusted gems and costly goldwork and sunset splendors of color, and there the monarchs of all the globe have assembled every fifty years, with their officers of state, to do homage to the Parents of the Race. Spaciousness is requisite, and there is no lack of it. It must be a fine sight to see that multitude of black kings and white, yellow kings and brown, all in their dazzle of rich outlandish costumes; and it must be a bank holiday for interpreters, too. But the place was only sparsely peopled, now -- guards, chamberlains, pages, and their sort, with a proper showing of secretaries ready and prepared to do nothing, and doing it.
Her Grandeur was clothed as the Arctic skies are clothed when the northern lights flood them with their trembling waves of purple and crimson and golden flame, and through this shifting and changing dream of rich colors the flash of innumerable jewels went chasing and turning, gleaming and expiring like trains of sparks through burnt paper. Afterward I spoke with enthusiasm of this brilliant spectacle to Nanga Parbat, that soured and dissolute Eden-born Scion of the First Blood whose bad heart banishment from the Presence long ago filled with malice and hate and envy, and he smiled a vinegar smile and said with scorn, "Pah! these airs! I've seen the day when the Family hadn't a shirt amongst them."
I could not resent this; one of my degree is not permitted to talk back to an Eden-born, even if one were so disposed, which is a thought which could exist only a passionate moment or two in a loyal breast; but I begged him to spare me such words about the Powers That Be, it being improper that I should hear them.
"Oh, of course!" he scoffed. "You are a Patriot -- you and your sort. And what is a Patriot, pray? It's one who grovels to the Family, and shouts for the Emperor and the Government, be they in the right or in the wrong, -- and especially when they are in the wrong; that they call 'standing by the Country.' Patriotism -- oh, Laura! that sham, that perversion, that silver-gilt nursery-bauble wherewith this combination of Land-grabbers, Constitution-tinkers, imbeciles and hypocrites called the Imperial Government beguiles and captures those confiding children the People. Oh, it's a sweet thing, is Patriotism.
Adam used to call it 'the last refuge of a scoundrel.' Do you know, I've been called a Patriot myself, by the ignorant and the thoughtless. Alas and alas, in this world one is never safe from insult. Come and take something?"
It was an odiously embarrassing position, people passing and staring all the time, wondering to see a Scion of the First Blood and wearing the sacred uniform of his Order (noticeably the worse for wear, by the way) familiarly buttonholing one of my estate, just as if I were an equal. And he could hardly fail to be overheard, for he would talk in a frank free voice (being "under the influence," as the saying is), do what I might to quiet him. In order to get away from observation I went into the Eden Arms with him, and of course found respite and peace, the customers respectfully vacating the place and filing out uncovered.
"Slaves!" he snarled; "look at them! They abase themselves before clothes and the accident of birth -- silver-gilt nursery-baubles again --Lord, it sizes up the quality of the human race!" and he rasped out a sardonic chuckle. "The human race, that has such a fine opinion of itself." He inspected his sacred uniform, detached a hanging rag of gold lace from it, musingly turned it this way and that in his fingers, then threw it to a dog, who sniffed at it hopefully a moment, then left it lying and slouched away disappointed. "Now there's a rational creature, a respect-worthy creature -- I do him homage!" He passed his fingers through his thatch of snow, and said with a sigh, "Ah, well, we were once as wise as he, and as sane -- I have seen that day."
Soon he broke into a tirade again -- this time about nepotism. He did not go quite so far as to mention names, but it was plain enough that his target was the Acting Head of the Race, his grandmother. It made the flesh crawl to hear him. "There isn't a place of value in that palace," he said, "that goes by merit; not a rich sinecure but is encumbered by some incapable dotard whose only qualification is that he belongs by accident of birth in one or another of the First Three Grades of the Blood. Everything worth having is saved for the Three Orders -- and how they do hang on, those jibbering senilities!
Adam used to sigh and say, 'They seldom die, and never resign.' Nepotism? it's just a buzzard's nest of it. She --why, dear me, she can't endure the touch or smell of plebeian flesh, the very scullery maids must be of the Family -- Third Grade, Herald's Office certificate, no Bar Sinister in the line, 'No Irish need apply,' as the slang saying is. Oh, the sarcasm of it -- why, she was never married, herself!"
I ventured to rebuke him, saying, "She was born married."
"Huh!" he scoffed, and snapped his fingers; "tell it to the marines."
Then he went on and on about nepotism, and there was nothing too bitter for him to say. I could have reminded him, if it had been meet for one of my condition to say such a thing, that if the system was evil none had gotten more advantage out of it than himself; for, through no merit but his Blood alone, he had served in the palace a couple of centuries, in a descending scale of offices sacred to the Third Degree, discrediting and degrading each in turn until he got down to boot-polisher; and not until it was found that he was even able to bring dishonor upon that was he at last given up in despair and forbidden the premises.
He attacked in turn everything that one respects and reveres, and I was obliged to stay and listen, for he is a capricious in his humors and might have taken mortal offense if I had asked for my dismissal. But finally, without preliminary or circumlocution he suddenly said he was tired of my monotonous gabble, and waved his hand toward the door. It was unjust, for it was he that had done the talking, I had said hardly a word; but I backed immediately out of the Presence without protest, being glad to go on any terms. Almost immediately he himself emerged and marched down the street, the people falling apart before him and bowing and scraping as he passed, he taking no notice of them. As disagreeable a scamp as I know -- of that I am certain.
In spirit, in speech and in looks he was a sorrowful contrast to his noble grandam. Long ago she was rebellious, it is said, and would not be appeased; but trouble and the burden of the ages have chastened her heart and restored to it the charity and gentleness that were its birthright, and their grace is in her face, which is beautiful. It was a privilege to see her again. I had not seen her since the first year of the new century, when she drove in state and showed herself to the people, in the glare of the illuminations, and formally inaugurated the Epoch, in accordance with antique custom -- always an impressive function, but peculiarly and movingly so on this occasion, it being the first time she had ever performed it alone.
No eye fell unmoistened upon the vacant place at her side, a place not likely ever to be occupied again. Eighty years ago, owing to failing health, his Serene Supremacy the Head of the Race resigned his functions into the hands of his Consort -- though not his Authority -- and since then has taken no active part in the administration of the Family's affairs, except that fifty-five years ago he received the Emperor of the World in private audience upon an occasion of urgency, and was persuaded to do the like again thirty-one years later. He has lived continuously in retirement in the hands of his physicians during the past three-quarters of a century, and by help of the advancing efficiency of medical science year by year for the past half-century has been mercifully enabled to retain his frail hold upon life. It is truly wonderful what the physicians have done; it is hardly too much to call it miraculous. It has made immense fame for them throughout the world, and prosperity as well.
PASSAGE FROM DIARY OF ---------*
* Not filled out. Possibly Nanga Parbat's diary? [B. DV.]
. . . His exact condition has been at no time revealed to the public -- certainly not by the physicians' bulletins. The sophisticated among us know how to discount those, it being quite understood that it is reputation in a physician's pocket to multiply an illustrious patient's danger by sixteen or twenty from time to time and then acquire the world's astonished admiration and reverence -- and b
usiness -- by pulling him up again to where he can take spoon victuals, and smile a sappy smile, and do some taffy about
"my beloved peoples" to be cabled around the earth and sniveled about in the papers and utilized by the pulpit to mellow up the congregations and enable it to take another go at the contribution-pump. In all these decades he has never had anything really the matter with him but doctor-sickness -- the understudy of one of the professional nurses told me so. Such of us as are not asses know what that disease is for, and who creates it, and how it is worked, and the money that is in it, and the reputation. Strictly select, strictly aristocratic, confined to the rich and renowned, is doctor-sickness; and-'for steady lastingness can give points to immortality.
