Up to this point, though he had seen enough to shew him the main
drift of the great changes that had taken place in Erewhonian
opinions, my father had not been able to glean much about the
history of the transformation. He could see that it had all grown
out of the supposed miracle of his balloon ascent, and he could
understand that the ignorant masses had been so astounded by an
event so contrary to all their experience, that their faith in
experience was utterly routed and demoralised. It a man and a
woman might rise from the earth and disappear into the sky, what
else might not happen? If they had been wrong in thinking such a
thing impossible, in how much else might they not be mistaken also?
The ground was shaken under their very feet. understand that a
single incontrovertible miracle of the first magnitude should
uproot the hedges of caution in the minds of the common people, but
he could not understand how such men as Hanky and Panky, who
evidently did not believe that there had been any miracle at all,
had been led to throw themselves so energetically into a movement
so subversive of all their traditions, when, as it seemed to him,
if they had held out they might have pricked the balloon bubble
easily enough, and maintained everything in statu quo.
How, again, had they converted the King--if they had converted him?
The Queen had had full knowledge of all the preparations for the
ascent. The King had had everything explained to him. The workmen
and workwomen who had made the balloon and the gas could testify
that none but natural means had been made use of--means which, if
again employed any number of times, would effect a like result.
How could it be that when the means of resistance were so ample and
so easy, the movement should nevertheless have been irresistible?
For had it not been irresistible, was it to be believed that astute
men like Hanky and Panky would have let themselves be drawn into
it?
What then had been its inner history? My father had so fully
determined to make his way back on the following evening, that he
saw no chance of getting to know the facts--unless, indeed, he
should be able to learn something from Hanky's sermon; he was
therefore not sorry to find an elderly gentleman of grave but
kindly aspect seated opposite to him when he sat down to supper.
The expression on this man's face was much like that of the early
Christians as shewn in the S. Giovanni Laterano bas-reliefs at
Rome, and again, though less aggressively self-confident, like that
on the faces of those who have joined the Salvation Army. If he
had been in England, my father would have set him down as a
Swedenborgian; this being impossible, he could only note that the
stranger bowed his head, evidently saying a short grace before he
began to eat, as my father had always done when he was in Erewhon
before. I will not say that my father had never omitted to say
grace during the whole of the last twenty years, but he said it
now, and unfortunately forgetting himself, he said it in the
English language, not loud, but nevertheless audibly.
My father was alarmed at what he had done, but there was no need,
for the stranger immediately said, "I hear, sir, that you have the
gift of tongues. The Sunchild often mentioned it to us, as having
been vouchsafed long since to certain of the people, to whom, for
our learning, he saw fit to feign that he belonged. He thus
foreshadowed prophetically its manifestation also among ourselves.
All which, however, you must know as well as I do. Can you
interpret?"
My father was much shocked, but he remembered having frequently
spoken of the power of speaking in unknown tongues which was
possessed by many of the early Christians, and he also remembered
that in times of high religious enthusiasm this power had
repeatedly been imparted, or supposed to be imparted, to devout
believers in the middle ages. It grated upon him to deceive one
who was so obviously sincere, but to avoid immediate discomfiture
he fell in with what the stranger had said.
"Alas! sir," said he, "that rarer and more precious gift has been
withheld from me; nor can I speak in an unknown tongue, unless as
it is borne in upon me at the moment. I could not even repeat the
words that have just fallen from me."
"That," replied the stranger, "is almost invariably the case.
These illuminations of the spirit are beyond human control. You
spoke in so low a tone that I cannot interpret what you have just
said, but should you receive a second inspiration later, I shall
doubtless be able to interpret it for you. I have been singularly
gifted in this respect--more so, perhaps, than any other
interpreter in Erewhon."
My father mentally vowed that no second inspiration should be
vouchsafed to him, but presently remembering how anxious he was for
information on the points touched upon at the beginning of this
chapter, and seeing that fortune had sent him the kind of man who
would be able to enlighten him, he changed his mind; nothing, he
reflected, would be more likely to make the stranger talk freely
with him, than the affording him an opportunity for showing off his
skill as an interpreter.
Something, therefore, he would say, but what? No one could talk
more freely when the train of his thoughts, or the conversation of
others, gave him his cue, but when told to say an unattached
"something," he could not even think of "How do you do this
morning? it is a very fine day;" and the more he cudgelled his
brains for "something," the more they gave no response. He could
not even converse further with the stranger beyond plain "yes" and
"no"; so he went on with his supper, and in thinking of what he was
eating and drinking for the moment forgot to ransack his brain. No
sooner had he left off ransacking it, than it suggested something--
not, indeed, a very brilliant something, but still something. On
having grasped it, he laid down his knife and fork, and with the
air of one distraught he said -
"My name is Norval, on the Grampian Hills
My father feeds his flock--a frugal swain."
"I heard you," exclaimed the stranger, "and I can interpret every
word of what you have said, but it would not become me to do so,
for you have conveyed to me a message more comforting than I can
bring myself to repeat even to him who has conveyed it."
Having said this he bowed his head, and remained for some time
wrapped in meditation. My father kept a respectful silence, but
after a little time he ventured to say in a low tone, how glad he
was to have been the medium through whom a comforting assurance had
been conveyed. Presently, on finding himself encouraged to renew
the conversation, he threw out a deferential feeler as to the
causes that might have induced Mr. Balmy to come to Fairmead.
"Perhaps," he said, "you, like myself, have come to these parts in
order to see the dedication of the new temple; I could not get a
lodging in Sunch'ston, so I walked down here this morning."
This, it seemed, had been Mr. Balmy's own case, except that he had
not yet been to Sunch'ston. Having heard that it was full to
overflowing, he had determined to pass the night at Fairmead, and
walk over in the morning--starting soon after seven, so as to
arrive in good time for the dedication ceremony. When my father
heard this, he proposed that they should walk together, to which
Mr. Balmy gladly consented; it was therefore arranged that they
should go to bed early, breakfast soon after six, and then walk to
Sunch'ston. My father then went to his own room, where he again
smoked a surreptitious pipe up the chimney.
Next morning the two men breakfasted together, and set out as the
clock was striking seven. The day was lovely beyond the power of
words, and still fresh--for Fairmead was some 2500 feet above the
sea, and the sun did not get above the mountains that overhung it
on the east side, till after eight o'clock. Many persons were also
starting for Sunch'ston, and there was a procession got up by the
Musical Bank Managers of the town, who walked in it, robed in rich
dresses of scarlet and white embroidered with much gold thread.
There was a banner displaying an open chariot in which the Sunchild
and his bride were seated, beaming with smiles, and in attitudes
suggesting that they were bowing to people who were below them.
The chariot was, of course, drawn by the four black and white
horses of which the reader has already heard, and the balloon had
been ignored. Readers of my father's book will perhaps remember
that my mother was not seen at all--she was smuggled into the car
of the balloon along with sundry rugs, under which she lay
concealed till the balloon had left the earth. All this went for
nothing. It has been said that though God cannot alter the past,
historians can; it is perhaps because they can be useful to Him in
this respect that He tolerates their existence. Painters, my
father now realised, can do all that historians can, with even
greater effect.
Women headed the procession--the younger ones dressed in white,
with veils and chaplets of roses, blue cornflower, and pheasant's
eye Narcissus, while the older women were more soberly attired.
The Bank Managers and the banner headed the men, who were mostly
peasants, but among them were a few who seemed to be of higher
rank, and these, for the most part, though by no means all of them,
wore their clothes reversed--as I have forgotten to say was done
also by Mr. Balmy. Both men and women joined in singing a litany
the words of which my father could not catch; the tune was one he
had been used to play on his apology for a flute when he was in
prison, being, in fact, none other than "Home, Sweet Home." There
was no harmony; they never got beyond the first four bars, but
these they must have repeated, my father thought, at least a
hundred times between Fairmead and Sunch'ston. "Well," said he to
himself, "however little else I may have taught them, I at any rate
gave them the diatonic scale."
He now set himself to exploit his fellow-traveller, for they soon
got past the procession.
"The greatest miracle," said he, "in connection with this whole
matter, has been--so at least it seems to me--not the ascent of the
Sunchild with his bride, but the readiness with which the people
generally acknowledged its miraculous character. I was one of
those that witnessed the ascent, but I saw no signs that the crowd
appreciated its significance. They were astounded, but they did
not fall down and worship."
"Ah," said the other, "but you forget the long drought and the rain
that the Sunchild immediately prevailed on the air-god to send us.
He had announced himself as about to procure it for us; it was on
this ground that the King assented to the preparation of those
material means that were necessary before the horses of the sun
could attach themselves to the chariot into which the balloon was
immediately transformed. Those horses might not be defiled by
contact with this gross earth. I too witnessed the ascent; at the
moment, I grant you, I saw neither chariot nor horses, and almost
all those present shared my own temporary blindness; the whole
action from the moment when the balloon left the earth, moved so
rapidly, that we were flustered, and hardly knew what it was that
we were really seeing. It was not till two or three years later
that I found the scene presenting itself to my soul's imaginary
sight in the full splendour which was no doubt witnessed, but not
apprehended, by my bodily vision."
"There," said my father, "you confirm an opinion that I have long
held.--Nothing is so misleading as the testimony of eye-witnesses."
"A spiritual enlightenment from within," returned Mr. Balmy, "is
more to be relied on than any merely physical affluence from
external objects. Now, when I shut my eyes, I see the balloon
ascend a little way, but almost immediately the heavens open, the
horses descend, the balloon is transformed, and the glorious
pageant careers onward till it vanishes into the heaven of heavens.
Hundreds with whom I have conversed assure me that their experience
has been the same as mine. Has yours been different?"
"Oh no, not at all; but I always see some storks circling round the
balloon before I see any horses."
"How strange! I have heard others also say that they saw the
storks you mention; but let me do my utmost I cannot force them
into my mental image of the scene. This shows, as you were saying
just now, how incomplete the testimony of an eye-witness often is.
It is quite possible that the storks were there, but the horses and
the chariot have impressed themselves more vividly on my mind than
anything else has."
"Quite so; and I am not without hope that even at this late hour
some further details may yet be revealed to us."
"It is possible, but we should be as cautious in accepting any
fresh details as in rejecting them. Should some heresy obtain wide
acceptance, visions will perhaps be granted to us that may be
useful in refuting it, but otherwise I expect nothing more."
"Neither do I, but I have heard people say that inasmuch as the
Sunchild said he was going to interview the air-god in order to
send us rain, he was more probably son to the air-god than to the
sun. Now here is a heresy which--"
"But, my dear sir," said Mr. Balmy, interrupting him with great
warmth, "he spoke of his father in heaven as endowed with
attributes far exceeding any that can be conceivably ascribed to
the air-god. The power of the air-god does not extend beyond our
own atmosphere."
"Pray believe me," said my father, who saw by the ecstatic gleam in
his companion's eye that there was nothing to be done but to agree
with him, "that I accept--"
"Hear me to the end," replied Mr. Balmy. "Who ever heard the
Sunchild claim relationship with the air-god? He could command the
air-god, and evidently did so, halting no doubt for this beneficent
purpose on his journey towards his ultimate destination. Can we
suppose that the air-god, who had evidently intended withholding
the rain from us for an indefinite period, should have so
immediately relinquished his designs against us at the intervention
of any less exalted personage than the sun's own offspring?
Impossible!"
"I quite agree with you," exclaimed my father, "it is out of the--"
"Let me finish what I have to say. When the rain came so copiously
for days, even those who had not seen the miraculous ascent found
its consequences come so directly home to them, that they had no
difficulty in accepting the report of others. There was not a
farmer or cottager in the land but heaved a sigh of relief at
rescue from impending ruin, and they all knew it was the Sunchild
who had promised the King that he would make the air-god send it.
So abundantly, you will remember, did it come, that we had to pray
to him to stop it, which in his own good time he was pleased to
do."
"I remember," said my father, who was at last able to edge in a
word, "that it nearly flooded me out of house and home. And yet,
in spite of all this, I hear that there are many at Bridgeford who
are still hardened unbelievers."
"Alas! you speak too truly. Bridgeford and the Musical Banks for
the first three years fought tooth and nail to blind those whom it
was their first duty to enlighten. I was a Professor of the
hypothetical language, and you may perhaps remember how I was
driven from my chair on account of the fearlessness with which I
expounded the deeper mysteries of Sunchildism."
"Yes, I remember well how cruelly--" but my father was not allowed
to get beyond "cruelly."
"It was I who explained why the Sunchild had represented himself as
belonging to a people in many respects analogous to our own, when
no such people can have existed. It was I who detected that the
supposed nation spoken of by the Sunchild was an invention designed
in order to give us instruction by the light of which we might more
easily remodel our institutions. I have sometimes thought that my
gift of interpretation was vouchsafed to me in recognition of the
humble services that I was hereby allowed to render. By the way,
you have received no illumination this morning, have you?"
"I never do, sir, when I am in the company of one whose
conversation I find supremely interesting. But you were telling me
about Bridgeford: I live hundreds of miles from Bridgeford, and
have never understood the suddenness, and completeness, with which
men like Professors Hanky and Panky and Dr. Downie changed front.
Do they believe as you and I do, or did they merely go with the
times? I spent a couple of hours with Hanky and Panky only two
evenings ago, and was not so much impressed as I could have wished
with the depth of their religious fervour."
"They are sincere now--more especially Hanky--but I cannot think I
am judging them harshly, if I say that they were not so at first.
Even now, I fear, that they are more carnally than spiritually
minded. See how they have fought for the aggrandisement of their
own order. It is mainly their doing that the Musical Banks have
usurped the spiritual authority formerly exercised by the
straighteners."
"But the straighteners," said my father, "could not co-exist with
Sunchildism, and it is hard to see how the claims of the Banks can
be reasonably gainsaid."
"Perhaps; and after all the Banks are our main bulwark against the
evils that I fear will follow from the repeal of the laws against
machinery. This has already led to the development of a
materialism which minimizes the miraculous element in the
Sunchild's ascent, as our own people minimize the material means
that were the necessary prologue to the miraculous."
Thus did they converse; but I will not pursue their conversation
further. It will be enough to say that in further floods of talk
Mr. Balmy confirmed what George had said about the Banks having
lost their hold upon the masses. That hold was weak even in the
time of my father's first visit; but when the people saw the
hostility of the Banks to a movement which far the greater number
of them accepted, it seemed as though both Bridgeford and the Banks
were doomed, for Bridgeford was heart and soul with the Banks.
Hanky, it appeared, though under thirty, and not yet a Professor,
grasped the situation, and saw that Bridgeford must either move
with the times, or go. He consulted some of the most sagacious
Heads of Houses and Professors, with the result that a committee of
enquiry was appointed, which in due course reported that the
evidence for the Sunchild's having been the only child of the sun
was conclusive. It was about this time--that is to say some three
years after his ascent--that "Higgsism," as it had been hitherto
called, became "Sunchildism," and "Higgs" the "Sunchild."
My father also learned the King's fury at his escape (for he would
call it nothing else) with my mother. This was so great that
though he had hitherto been, and had ever since proved himself to
be, a humane ruler, he ordered the instant execution of all who had
been concerned in making either the gas or the balloon; and his
cruel orders were carried out within a couple of hours. At the
same time he ordered the destruction by fire of the Queen's
workshops, and of all remnants of any materials used in making the
balloon. It is said the Queen was so much grieved and outraged
(for it was her doing that the material ground-work, so to speak,
had been provided for the miracle) that she wept night and day
without ceasing three whole months, and never again allowed her
husband to embrace her, till he had also embraced Sunchildism.
When the rain came, public indignation at the King's action was
raised almost to revolution pitch, and the King was frightened at
once by the arrival of the promised downfall and the displeasure of
his subjects. But he still held out, and it was only after
concessions on the part of the Bridgeford committee, that he at
last consented to the absorption of Sunchildism into the Musical
Bank system, and to its establishment as the religion of the
country. The far-reaching changes in Erewhonian institutions with
which the reader is already acquainted followed as a matter of
course.
"I know the difficulty," said my father presently, "with which the
King was persuaded to allow the way in which the Sunchild's dress
should be worn to be a matter of opinion, not dogma. I see we have
adopted different fashions. Have you any decided opinions upon the
subject?"
"I have; but I will ask you not to press me for them. Let this
matter remain as the King has left it."
My father thought that he might now venture on a shot. So he said,
"I have always understood, too, that the King forced the repeal of
the laws against machinery on the Bridgeford committee, as another
condition of his assent?"
"Certainly. He insisted on this, partly to gratify the Queen, who
had not yet forgiven him, and who had set her heart on having a
watch, and partly because he expected that a development of the
country's resources, in consequence of a freer use of machinery,
would bring more money into his exchequer. Bridgeford fought hard
and wisely here, but they had gained so much by the Musical Bank
Managers being recognised as the authorised exponents of
Sunchildism, that they thought it wise to yield--apparently with a
good grace--and thus gild the pill which his Majesty was about to
swallow. But even then they feared the consequences that are
already beginning to appear, all which, if I mistake not, will
assume far more serious proportions in the future."
"See," said my father suddenly, "we are coming to another
procession, and they have got some banners, let us walk a little
quicker and overtake it."
"Horrible!" replied Mr. Balmy fiercely. "You must be short-
sighted, or you could never have called my attention to it. Let us
get it behind us as fast as possible, and not so much as look at
it."
"Oh yes, yes," said my father, "it is indeed horrible, I had not
seen what it was."
He had not the faintest idea what the matter was, but he let Mr.
Balmy walk a little ahead of him, so that he could see the banners,
the most important of which he found to display a balloon pure and
simple, with one figure in the car. True, at the top of the banner
there was a smudge which might be taken for a little chariot, and
some very little horses, but the balloon was the only thing
insisted on. As for the procession, it consisted entirely of men,
whom a smaller banner announced to be workmen from the Fairmead
iron and steel works. There was a third banner, which said,
"Science as well as Sunchildism."