George MacDonald - "Annals of a Quiet Neighbourhood"

Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne - "Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte, V8"

George Bernard Shaw - "Heartbreak House"

Mark Rutherford - "Pages from a Journal with Other Papers"

Warning: file_get_contents(http://www.publishersnewswire.com/RSS/news4.xml) [function.file-get-contents]: failed to open stream: HTTP request failed! HTTP/1.0 404 Not Found in /home/farmy/public_html/knownwriters.net/inc/rss.php on line 8

Books: A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder

J >> James De Mille >> A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder




"Some think that they were covered with scales, but I am of the
opinion that they had a horny hide, with a ridge of hair running down
their backs--in which opinion I am sustained by More's account. The
smaller kinds were undoubtedly insectivorous, but the larger ones must
have been carnivorous, and probably fed largely on fish."

"Well, at any rate," said Melick, gravely, "this athaleb solves the
difficult question as to how the Troglodytes emigrated to the South
Pole."

"How?" asked the doctor.

"Why, they must have gone there on athalebs! Your friends the
pterodactyls probably lingered longest among the Troglodytes, who,
seeing that they were rapidly dying out, concluded to depart to
another and a better world. One beauty of this theory is that it
cannot possibly be disproved; another is that it satisfies all the
requirements of the case; a third is that it accounts for the
disappearance of the pterodactyls in our world, and their appearance
at the South Pole; and there are forty or fifty other facts, all
included in this theory, which I have not time just now to enumerate,
but will try to do so after we have finished reading the manuscript. I
will only add that the athaleb must be regarded as another link which
binds the Kosekin to the Semitic race."

"Another link?" said Oxenden. "That I already have; and it is one that
carries conviction with it."

"All your arguments invariably do, my dear fellow."

"What is it?" asked the doctor.

"The Kosekin alphabet," said Oxenden.

"I can't see how you can make anything out of that," said the doctor.

"Very well, I can easily explain," replied Oxenden. "In the first
place we must take the old Hebrew alphabet. I will write down the
letters in their order first."

Saying this he hastily jotted down some letters on a piece of paper,
and showed to the doctor the following:

Labials. Palatals. Linguals.
A B C (or G) D
E F Ch (or H) Dh (or Th)
I Liquids, L M N
O P K T

"That," said he, "is substantially the order of the old Hebrew
alphabet."

"But," said the doctor, "the Kosekin alphabet differs in its order
altogether from that."

"That very difference can be shown to be all the stronger proof of a
connection between them," said Oxenden.

"I should like to know how."

"The fact is," said Oxenden, "these letters are represented
differently in the two languages in exact accordance with Grimm's
Law."

"By Jove!" cried Featherstone, "Grimm's Law again!"

"According to that law," continued Oxenden, "the letters of the
alphabet ought to change their order. Now let us leave out the vowels
and linguals, and deal only with the mutes. First, we have in the
Hebrew alphabet the medials B, G, and D. Very well; in the Kosekin we
have standing first the thin letters, or tenues, according to Grimm's
Law, namely, P, K, T. Next we have in the Hebrew the aspirates F, Ch,
Dh. In the Kosekin alphabet we have corresponding to them the medials
B, G, D. Next we have in the Hebrew the tenues, or thin letters P, K,
T. In the Kosekin we have the corresponding aspirates F, Ch, Th. The
vowels, liquids, and sibilants need not be regarded just here, for the
proof from the mutes is sufficient to satisfy any reasonable man."

"Well," said Melick, "I for one am thoroughly satisfied, and don't
need another single word. The fact is, I never knew before the
all-sufficient nature of Grimm's Law. Why, it can unlock any mystery!
When I get home I must buy one--a tame one, if possible--and keep him
with me always. It is more useful to a literary man than to any other.
It is said that with a knowledge of Grimm's Law a man may wander
through the world from Iceland to Ceylon, and converse pleasantly in
all the Indo-European languages. More must have had Grimm's Law stowed
away somewhere about him; and that's the reason why he escaped the
icebergs, the volcanoes, the cannibals, the subterranean channel
monster, and arrived at last safe and sound in the land of the
Kosekin. What I want is Grimm's Law--a nice tidy one, well trained, in
good working order, and kind in harness; and the moment I get one I
intend to go to the land of the Kosekin myself."



CHAPTER XXVII

OXENDEN PREACHES A SERMON


"Magones," said the doctor, "is clearly a volcanic island, and, taken
in connection with the other volcanoes around, shows how active must
be the subterranean fires at the South Pole. It seems probable to me
that the numerous caves of the Kosekin were originally fissures in the
mountains, formed by convulsions of nature; and also that the places
excavated by man must consist of soft volcanic rock, such as
pumice-stone, or rather tufa, easily worked, and remaining permanently
in any shape into which it may be fashioned. As to Magones, it seems
another Iceland; for there are the same wild and hideous desolation,
the same impassable wildernesses, and the same universal scenes of
ruin, lighted up by the baleful and tremendous volcanic fires."

"But what of that little island on which they landed?" asked
Featherstone. "That, surely, was not volcanic."

"No," said the doctor; "that must have been a coral island."

"By-the-bye, is it really true," asked Featherstone, "that these coral
islands are the work of little insects?"

"Well, they may be called insects," replied the doctor; "they are
living zoophytes of most minute dimensions, which, however, compensate
for their smallness of size by their inconceivable numbers. Small as
these are they have accomplished infinitely more than all that ever
was done by the ichthyosaurus, the plesiosaurus, the pterodactyl, and
the whole tribe of monsters that once filled the earth. Immense
districts and whole mountains have been built up by these minute
creatures. They have been at work for ages, and are still at work. It
is principally in the South Seas that their labors are carried on.
Near the Maldive Islands they have formed a mass whose volume is equal
to the Alps. Around New Caledonia they have built a barrier of reefs
four hundred miles in length, and another along the northeast coast of
Australia a thousand miles in length. In the Pacific Ocean, islands,
reefs, and islets innumerable have been constructed by them, which
extend for an immense distance.

"The coral islands are called 'atolls.' They are nearly always
circular, with a depression in the centre. They are originally made
ring-shaped, but the action of the ocean serves to throw fragments of
rock into the inner depression, which thus fills up; firm land
appears; the rock crumbles into soil; the winds and birds and currents
bring seeds here, and soon the new island is covered with verdure.
These little creatures have played a part in the past quite as
important as in the present. All Germany rests upon a bank of coral;
and they seem to have been most active during the Oolitic Period."

"How do the creatures act?" asked Featherstone.

"Nobody knows," replied the doctor.

A silence now followed, which was at last broken by Oxenden.

"After all," said he, "these monsters and marvels of nature form the
least interesting feature in the land of the Kosekin. To me the people
themselves are the chief subject of interest. Where did they get that
strange, all-pervading love of death, which is as strong in them as
love of life is in us?"

"Why, they got it from the imagination of the writer of the
manuscript," interrupted Melick.

"Yes, it's easy to answer it from your point of view; yet from my
point of view it is more difficult. I sometimes think that it may be
the strong spirituality of the Semitic race, carried out under
exceptionally favorable circumstances to the ultimate results; for the
Semitic race more than all others thought little of this life, and
turned their affections to the life that lives beyond this. The
Kosekin may thus have had a spiritual development of their own, which
ended in this.

"Yet there may be another reason for it, and I sometimes think that
the Kosekin may be nearer to the truth than we are. We have by nature
a strong love of life--it is our dominant feeling--but yet there is in
the minds of all men a deep underlying conviction of the vanity of
life, and the worthlessness. In all ages and among all races the best,
the purest, and the wisest have taught this truth--that human life is
not a blessing; that the evil predominates over the good; and that our
best hope is to gain a spirit of acquiescence with its inevitable
ills. All philosophy and all religions teach us this one solemn truth,
that in this life the evil surpasses the good. It has always been so.
Suffering has been the lot of all living things, from the giant of the
primeval swamps down to the smallest zoophyte. It is far more so with
man. Some favored classes in every age may furnish forth a few
individuals who may perhaps lead lives of self-indulgence and luxury;
but to the mass of mankind life has ever been, and must ever be, a
prolonged scene of labor intermingled with suffering. The great Indian
religions, whether Brahmanic or Buddhistic, teach as their cardinal
doctrine that life is an evil. Buddhism is more pronounced in this,
for it teaches more emphatically than even the Kosekin that the chief
end of man is to get rid of the curse of life and gain the bliss of
Nirvana, or annihilation. True, it does not take so practical a form
as among the Kosekin, yet it is believed by one-third of the human
race as the foundation of the religion in which they live and die. We
need not go to the Kosekin, however, for such maxims as these. The
intelligent Hindoos, the Chinese, the Japanese, with many other
nations, all cling firmly to this belief. Sakyamoum Gautama Buddha,
the son and heir of a mighty monarch, penetrated with the conviction
of the misery of life, left his throne, embraced a life of voluntary
poverty, want, and misery, so that he might find his way to a better
state--the end before him being this, that he might ultimately escape
from the curse of existence. He lived till old age, gained innumerable
followers, and left to them as a solemn legacy the maxim that not to
exist is better than to exist; that death is better than life. Since
his day millions of his followers have upheld his principles and lived
his life. Even among the joyous Greeks we find this feeling at times
bursting forth it comes when we least expect it, and not even a
Kosekin poet could express this view more forcibly than Sophocles in
the OEdipus at Colonus:

"'Not to be born surpasses every lot;
And the next best lot by far, when one is born
Is to go back whence he came as soon as possible;
For while youth is present bringing vain follies,
What woes does it not have, what ills does it not bear--
Murders, factions, strife, war, envy,
But the extreme of misery is attained by loathsome old age--
Old age, strengthless, unsociable, friendless,
Where all evils upon evils dwell together.'"

"I'll give you the words of a later poet," said Melick, "who takes
a different view of the case. I think I'll sing them, with your
permission."

Melick swallowed a glass of wine and then sang the following:

"'They may rail at this life: from the hour I began it
I found it a life full of kindness and bliss,
And until they can show me some happier planet,
More social and bright, I'll content me with this.
As long as the world has such lips and such eyes
As before me this moment enraptured I see,
They may say what they will of their orbs in the skies,
But this earth is the planet for you, love, and me.'

"What a pity it is," continued Melick, "that the writer of this
manuscript had not the philological, theological, sociological,
geological, palaeological, ontological, ornithological, and all the
other logical attainments of yourself and the doctor! He could then
have given us a complete view of the nature of the Kosekin, morally
and physically; he could have treated of the geology of the soil, the
ethnology of the people, and could have unfolded before us a full and
comprehensive view of their philosophy and religion, and could have
crammed his manuscript with statistics. I wonder why he didn't do it
even as it was. It must have been a strong temptation."

"More," said Oxenden, with deep impressiveness, "was a simple-minded
though somewhat emotional sailor, and merely wrote in the hope that
his story might one day meet the eyes of his father. I certainly
should like to find some more accurate statements about the science,
philosophy, and religion of the Kosekin; yet, after all, such things
could not be expected."

"Why not?" said Melick; "it was easy enough for him."

"How?" asked Oxenden.

"Why, he had only to step into the British Museum, and in a couple of
hours he could have crammed up on all those points in science,
philosophy, ethnology, and theology, about which you are so anxious to
know."

"Well," said Featherstone, "suppose we continue our reading? I believe
it is my turn now. I sha'n't be able to hold out so long as you did,
Oxenden, but I'll do what I can."

Saying this, Featherstone took the manuscript and went on to read.



CHAPTER XXVIII

IN PRISON


It was with hearts full of the gloomiest forebodings that we returned
to the amir, and these we soon found to be fully justified. The
athalebs descended at that point from which they had risen--namely, on
the terrace immediately in front of the cavern where they had been
confined. We then dismounted, and Layelah with the Kosekin guards
accompanied us to our former chambers. There she left us, saying that
a communication would be sent to us.

We were now left to our own conjectures.

"I wonder what they will do to us?" said I.

"It is impossible to tell," said Almah.

"I suppose," said I, "they will punish us in some way; but then
punishment among the Kosekin is what seems honor and reward to me.
Perhaps they will spare our lives, for that in their eyes ought to be
the severest punishment and the deepest disgrace imaginable."

Almah sighed.

"The Kosekin do not always act in this matter as one would suppose,"
said she. "It is quite likely that they may dread our escaping, and
may conclude to sacrifice us at once."

On the next jom I had a visit from the Kohen Gadol. He informed me
that the paupers had held a Council of State, in which they had made a
special examination of our late flight. He and Layelah had both been
examined, as well as the Kosekin who had gone after us; but Layelah's
testimony was by far the most important.

The Council of State gathered from Layelah's report that we had fled
to Magones for the especial purpose of gaining the most blessed of
deaths; that she pursued us in the interest of the state; and that we
on her arrival had generously surrendered our own selfish desires, and
had at once returned.

We learned that much gratification was felt by the council, and also
expressed, at Layelah's account and at our action.

First, at our eager love of death, which was so natural in their
eyes; secondly, at the skill which we had shown in selecting Magones;
and finally, at our generosity in giving up so readily the blessed
prospect of exile and want and death, so as to come back to the
amir. Had we been Kosekin our acts would have been natural enough;
but, being foreigners, it was considered more admirable in us, and it
seemed to show that we were equal to the Kosekin themselves. It was
felt, however, that in our eager rush after death we had been somewhat
selfish; but as this probably arose from our ignorance of the law, it
might be overlooked. On the whole it was decided that we ought to be
rewarded, and that, too, with the greatest benefits that the Kosekin
could bestow. What these benefits were the Kohen Gadol could not say;
and thus we were left, as before, in the greatest possible anxiety. We
still dreaded the worst. The highest honors of these men might well
awaken apprehension; for they thought that the chief blessings were
poverty and darkness and death.

Layelah next came to see me. She was as amiable as ever, and showed no
resentment at all. She gave me an account of what had happened at the
Council of State, which was the same as what I had heard from the
Kohen Gadol.

I asked her why she had made such a report of us.

"To conciliate their good-will," said Layelah. "For if they thought
that you had really fled from death from a love of life, they would
have felt such contempt for you that serious harm might have
happened."

"Yes," said I; "but among the Kosekin what you call harm would
probably have been just what I want. I should like to be viewed with
contempt, and considered unworthy of death and the Mista Kosek, and
other such honors."

"Oh yes," said Layelah; "but that doesn't follow; for you see the
paupers love death so intensely that they long to bestow it on all;
and if they knew that you were afraid of it, they would be tempted to
bestow it upon you immediately, just to show you how delightful a
thing it is. And that was the very thing that I was trying to guard
against."

"Well," said I, "and what is the result? Do you know what their
decision is?"

"Yes," said Layelah.

"What is it?" I asked, eagerly.

Layelah hesitated.

"What is it?" I cried again, full of impatience.

"I'm afraid it will not sound very pleasant to you," said Layelah,
"but at any rate your life is spared for the present. They have
decided to give you what they call the greatest possible honors and
distinctions."

Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly. For my part these words
sounded ominous, and were full of the darkest meaning.

"Tell me all," I said; "don't keep me in suspense."

"Well," said Layelah, "I'm afraid you will think it hard; but I must
tell you. I will tell it, therefore, as briefly and formally as
possible.

"First, then, they have decreed the blessing of separation. You and
Almah must now be parted, since this is regarded as the highest bliss
of lovers.

"Secondly, they have decreed the blessing of poverty. All these
luxuries will be taken away, and you will be raised to an equality in
this respect with the great paupers.

"Thirdly, you are to have the blessing of darkness. You are to be
removed from this troublesome and vexatious light, which here is
regarded as a curse, and henceforth live without it.

"Fourthly, the next decree is the high reward of imprisonment. You are
to be delivered from the evils of liberty, and shut up in a dark
cavern, from which it will be impossible to escape or to communicate
with anyone outside.

"Fifthly, you are to associate with the greatest of the paupers, the
class that is the most honored and influential. You will be present at
all their highest councils, and will have the privilege of perpetual
intercourse with those reverend men. They will tell you of the joys of
poverty, the happiness of darkness, and the bliss of death."

Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly.

"Is there anything more?" I gasped.

"No," said she. "Is not that enough? Some were in favor of bestowing
immediate death, but they were outvoted by the others. You surely
cannot regret that."

Layelah's words sounded like the words of a mocking demon. Yet she did
not wish to distress me; she had merely stated my sentence in formal
language, without any attempt to soften its tremendous import. As for
me, I was overwhelmed with despair. There was but one thought in my
mind--it was not of myself, but of Almah.

"And Almah?" I cried.

"Almah," said Layelah--"she will have the same; you are both included
in the same sentence."

At this a groan burst from me. Horror overwhelmed me. I threw myself
down upon the floor and covered my face with my hands. All was lost!
Our fate--Almah's fate--was darkness, imprisonment, and death. Could
anything be imagined that might mitigate such woes as these? Could
anything be conceived of as more horrible? Yes; there remained
something more, and this was announced by Layelah.

"Finally," said she, "it has been decreed that you shall not only have
the blessing of death, but that you shall have the rare honor of
belonging to the chosen few who are reserved for the Mista Kosek.
Thus far this had not been granted. It was esteemed too high an honor
for strangers; but now, by an exercise of unparalleled liberality, the
Grand Council of Paupers have added this, as the last and best, to the
high honors and rewards which they have decreed for you and Almah."

To this I had nothing to say; I was stupefied with horror. To such
words what answer could be made? At that moment I could think of
nothing but this tremendous sentence--this infliction of appalling
woes under the miserable name of blessings! I could not think of
Layelah; nor did I try to conjecture what her motives might be in thus
coming to me as the messenger of evil. I could not find space amid
my despair for speculations as to her own part in this, or stop to
consider whether she was acting the part of a mere messenger, or was
influenced by resentment or revenge. All this was far away from my
thoughts; for all my mind was filled with the dread sentence of the
Council of Paupers and the baleful prospect of the woes that awaited
us.

On the next jom I saw Almah. She had already learned the awful
tidings. She met me with a face of despair; for there was no longer
any hope, and all that remained for us was a last farewell. After this
we parted, and each of us was taken to our respective prison.

I was taken along dark passages until I came to a cavern with a low,
dark portal. Upon entering I found the darkness deeper than usual,
and there was only one solitary lamp, which diffused but a feeble ray
through the gloom. The size of the place could not be made out. I
saw here a group of human beings, and by the feeble ray of the lamp
I perceived that they were wan and thin and emaciated, with scant
clothing, all in rags, squalor, misery, and dirt; with coarse hair
matted together, and long nails and shaggy beards. They reminded me in
their personal appearance of the cannibals of the outer shore. These
hideous beings all gathered around me, blinking at me with their
bleary eyes and grinning with their abominable faces, and then each
one embraced me. The filth, squalor, and unutterable foulness of
these wretches all combined to fill my soul with loathing, and the
inconceivable horror of that embrace wellnigh overwhelmed me. Yet,
after all, it was surpassed by the horror of the thought that Almah
might be at that very moment undergoing the same experience; and for
her such a thing must be worse than for me.

I retreated as far as possible from them, deep into the thick
darkness, and sat down. No convicted felon at the last hour of life,
no prisoner in the dungeons of the Inquisition, ever could have
suffered more mental agony than I did at that moment. The blessings,
the awful blessings of the Kosekin were descending upon my miserable
head--separation from Almah, squalor and dirt, imprisonment, the
society of these filthy creatures, darkness, the shadow of death, and
beyond all the tremendous horrors of the Mista Kosek!

I do not know how the time passed, for at first I was almost stupefied
with despair; nor could I ever grow reconciled to the society of
these wretches, scarce human, who were with me. Some food was
offered me--filthy stuff, which I refused. My refusal excited warm
commendation; but I was warned against starving myself, as that was
against the law. In my despair I thought of my pistol and rifle,
which I still kept with me--of using these against my jailors, and
bursting forth; but this wild impulse soon passed away, for its utter
hopelessness was manifest. My only hope, if hope it was, lay in
waiting, and it was not impossible that I might see Almah again,
if only once.

Joms passed away, I know not how. The Chief Pauper, who is the
greatest man in the land of the Kosekin, made several attempts to
converse with me, and was evidently very condescending and magnanimous
in his own eyes; but I did not meet his advances graciously--he was
too abhorrent. He was a hideous wretch, with eyes nearly closed and
bleary, thick, matted hair, and fiendish expression--in short, a devil
incarnate in rags and squalor.

But as the joms passed I found it difficult to repel my associates.
They were always inflicting their society upon me, and thrusting on me
nasty little acts of kindness. The Chief Pauper was more persistent
than all, with his chatter and his disgusting civilities. He was
evidently glad to get hold of a fresh subject for his talkative
genius; he was a very garrulous cannibal, and perhaps my being a
foreigner made me more interesting in his eyes.

The chief topic of his discourse was death. He hated life, loved
death, longed for it in all its forms, whether arising from disease
or from violence. He was an amateur in corpses, and had a larger
experience in dead bodies than any other man in the nation.

I could not help asking him once why he did not kill himself, and be
done with it.