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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35736-8.txt b/35736-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9db836 --- /dev/null +++ b/35736-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1400 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Life and Death, by Henryk Sienkiewicz + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life and Death + And Other Legends and Stories + +Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz + +Translator: Jeremiah Curtin + +Release Date: April 1, 2011 [EBook #35736] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + + + + + + + + +Life and Death + +_And Other Legends and Stories_ + + + + +THE WORKS OF HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ + +TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL POLISH BY JEREMIAH CURTIN. + + +_The Zagloba Romances_ + + WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 1 vol. + THE DELUGE. 2 vols. + PAN MICHAEL. 1 vol. + + + QUO VADIS. 1 vol. + THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS. 2 vols. + CHILDREN OF THE SOIL. 1 vol. + HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES. 1 vol. + SIELANKA, AND OTHER STORIES. 1 vol. + IN VAIN. 1 vol. + LIFE AND DEATH AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES. 1 vol. + + + WITHOUT DOGMA. (Translated by Iza Young.) 1 vol. + + + + +[Illustration: HOUSE PRESENTED TO HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ BY THE POLES + +Mr. Sienkiewicz and Mr. Curtin in the foreground] + + + + + Life and Death + + _And Other Legends and Stories_ + + + By Henryk Sienkiewicz + + Author of "With Fire and Sword," "The Deluge," + "Pan Michael," "Quo Vadis," "Knights + of the Cross," etc. + + + _Translated from the Original Polish by_ + Jeremiah Curtin + + + Boston + Little, Brown, and Company + 1904 + + + + + _Copyright, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1904_, + BY JEREMIAH CURTIN. + + _All rights reserved_ + + + THE UNIVERSITY PRESS + CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. + + + + +PREFACE + + +_"Is He the Dearest One?" was produced under the following circumstances: +About fourteen years ago there was a famine, or at least hunger, in +Silesia. Though that land is a German possession at present, it was once a +part of the Polish Commonwealth, and there are many un-Germanized Poles in +it yet._ + +_The mother in this sketch is Poland. Yasko, the most unfortunate of her +sons, is Silesia. Poor, ill-fated, he neglects his own language, forgets +his mother; but she does not forget him, as was shown on the occasion of +that hunger in Silesia. The Poles of Russian Poland collected one million +marks and sent them to Yasko._ + +_The ship "Purple" represents Poland and its career, and is a very brief +summary of the essence and meaning of Polish history. Like some of the +author's most beautiful short productions, it was written for a benevolent +object, all the money obtained for it being devoted to that object._ + +_All persons who have read "Charcoal Sketches," in Sienkiewicz's "Hania," +will be interested to learn the origin of that striking production. It was +written mainly and finished in Los Angeles, Cal., as Sienkiewicz told me +in Switzerland six years ago, but it was begun at Anaheim Landing, as is +described in the sketch printed in this volume, "The Cranes." Besides +being begun at Anaheim Landing, the whole plan of "Charcoal Sketches" was +worked out there. "The Cranes" appeared in Lvov, or Lemburg, a few years +ago, in a paper which was published for one day only, and was made up of +contributions from Polish authors who gave these contributions for a +benevolent purpose. The Hindu legend, "Life and Death," to be read by +Sienkiewicz at Warsaw in January, is his latest work._ + +_JEREMIAH CURTIN._ + + _Torbole, Lago di Garda, Austria, + December 18, 1903._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + _Page_ + + LIFE AND DEATH: A HINDU LEGEND 3 + + IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? 21 + + A LEGEND OF THE SEA 29 + + THE CRANES 41 + + THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS 55 + + + + +LIFE AND DEATH _A HINDU LEGEND_ + + +LIFE AND DEATH _A HINDU LEGEND_ + + +I + +LIFE AND DEATH + + +There were two regions lying side by side, as it were two immense plains, +with a clear river flowing between them. + +At one point the banks of this river sloped gently to a shallow ford in +the shape of a pond with transparent, calm water. + +Beneath the azure surface of this ford could be seen its golden bed, from +which grew stems of lotus; on those stems bloomed white and rose-colored +flowers above the mirror of water. Rainbow-hued insects and butterflies +circled around the flowers and among the palms of the shore, while higher +up in the sunny air birds gave out sounds like those of silver bells. This +pond was the passage from one region to the other. + +The first region was called the Plain of Life, the second the Plain of +Death. + +The supreme and all mighty Brahma had created both plains, and had +commanded the good Vishnu to rule in the Region of Life, while the wise +Siva was lord in the Region of Death. + +"Do what ye understand to be best," said Brahma to the two rulers. + +Hence in the region belonging to Vishnu life moved with all its activity. +The sun rose and set; day followed night, and night followed day; the sea +rose and fell; in the sky appeared clouds big with rain; the earth was +soon covered with forests, and crowded with beasts, birds, and people. + +So that all living creatures might increase greatly and multiply, the +kindly god created Love, which he made to be Happiness also. + +After this Brahma summoned Vishnu and said to him: + +"Thou canst produce nothing better on earth, and since heaven is created +already by me, do thou rest and let those whom thou callest people weave +the thread of life for themselves unassisted." + +Vishnu obeyed this command, and henceforward men ordered their own lives. +From their good thoughts came joy, from their evil ones, sorrow; and they +saw soon with wonder that life was not an unbroken rejoicing, but that +with the life thread which Brahma had mentioned they wove out two webs as +it were with two faces,--on one of these was a smile; there were tears in +the eyes of the other. + +They went then to the throne of Vishnu and made complaint to him: + +"O Lord! life is grievous through sorrow." + +"Let Love give you happiness," said Vishnu in answer. + +At these words they went away quieted, for Love indeed scattered their +sorrows, which, in view of the happiness given, seemed so insignificant as +to be undeserving of notice. + +But Love is also the mighty mother of life, hence, though the region which +Vishnu ruled was enormous, it was soon insufficient for the myriads of +people; soon there was not fruit enough upon trees there, nor berries +enough upon bushes, nor honey enough from cliff bees. + +Thereupon all the men who were wisest fell to cutting down forests for the +clearing of land, for the sowing of seed, for the winning of harvests. + +Thus Labor appeared among people. Soon all had to turn to it, and labor +became not merely the basis of life, but life itself very nearly. + +But from Labor came Toil, and Toil produced Weariness. + +Great throngs of people appeared before Vishnu a second time. + +"O Lord!" exclaimed they, stretching their hands to him, "toil has +weakened our bodies, weariness spreads through our bones, we are yearning +for rest, but Life drives us always to labor." + +To this Vishnu answered: + +"The great and all mighty Brahma has not allowed me to shape Life any +further, but I am free to make that which will cause it to halt, and rest +will come then to you." + +And Vishnu made Sleep. + +Men received this new gift with rejoicing, and very soon saw in it one of +the greatest boons given by the deity thus far. In sleep vanished care and +vexation, during sleep strength returned to the weary; sleep, like a +cherishing mother, wiped away tears of sorrow and surrounded the heads of +the slumbering with oblivion. + +So people glorified sleep, and repeated: + +"Be blessed, for thou art far better than life in our waking hours." + +And they had one regret only, that it did not continue forever. After +sleep came awakening, and after awakening came labor with fresh toil and +weariness. + +This thought began soon to torture all men so sorely, that for the third +time they stood before Vishnu. + +"O Lord," said they, "thou hast given us a boon which, though great and +unspeakably precious, is incomplete as it now appears. Wilt thou grant us +that sleep be eternal?" + +Vishnu wrinkled his brows then in anger at this their insistence, and +answered: + +"I cannot give what ye ask of me, but go to the neighboring ford, and +beyond ye will find that for which ye are seeking." + +The people heard the god's voice and went on in legions immediately. They +went to the ford, and, halting there, gazed at the shore lying opposite. + +Beyond the clear, calm, and flower-bedecked surface stretched the Plain of +Death, or the Kingdom of Siva. + +The sun never rose and never set in that region; there was no day and no +night there, but the whole plain was of a lily-colored, absolute +clearness. No shadow fell in that region, for clearness inhered there so +thoroughly that it seemed the real essence of Siva's dominions. + +The region was not empty. As far as the eye could reach were seen heights +and valleys where beautiful trees stood in groups; on those trees rose +climbing plants, while ivy and grapevines were hanging from the cliff +sides. + +But the cliffs and the tree trunks and the slender plant stems were almost +transparent, as if formed out of light grown material. The leaves of the +ivy had in them a delicate roseate light as of dawn. And all was in +marvellous rest, such as none on the Plain of Life had experienced; all +was as if sunk in serene meditation, as if dreaming and resting in +continuous slumber, unthreatened by waking. + +In the clear air not the slightest breeze was discovered, not a flower was +seen moving, not a leaf showed a quiver. + +The people who had come to the shore with loud conversation and clamor +grew silent at sight of those lily-colored, motionless spaces, and +whispered: + +"What quiet! How everything rests there in clearness!" + +"Oh, yes, there is rest and unbroken repose in that region." + +So some, namely, those who were weariest, said after a silence: + +"Let us find the sleep which is surely unbroken." + +And they entered the water. The rainbow-hued surface opened straightway +before them, as if wishing to lighten the passage. Those who remained on +the shore began now to call after them, but no man turned his head, and +all hurried forward with willingness and lightly, attracted more and more +by the charm of that wonderful region. + +The throng which gazed from the shore of Life at them noted this also: +that as they moved forward their bodies grew gradually less heavy, +becoming transparent and purer, more radiant, and as it were blending with +that absolute clearness which filled the whole Plain of Death, Siva's +kingdom. + +And when they had passed and disposed themselves amid flowers and at trees +or the bases of cliffs, to repose there, their eyes were closed, but their +faces had on them not only an expression of ineffable peace, but also of +happiness such as Love itself on the Plain of Life had never given. + +Seeing this, those who had halted behind said one to another: + +"The region belonging to Siva is sweeter and better." + +And they began to pass to that shore in increasing numbers. There went in +solemn procession old men, and men in ripe years, and husbands and wives, +and mothers who led little children, and maidens, and youths, and then +thousands and millions of people pushed on toward that Calm Passage, till +at last the Plain of Life was depopulated almost entirely. + +Then Vishnu, whose task it was to keep life from extinction, was +frightened because of the advice which he had given in his anger, and not +knowing what to do else hastened quickly to Brahma. + +"Save Life, O Creator!" said he. "Behold, thou hast made the inheritance +of Death now so beautiful, so serene, and so blissful that all men are +leaving my kingdom." + +"Have none remained with thee there?" inquired Brahma. + +"Only one youth and one maiden, who are in love beyond measure; they +renounce endless bliss rather than close their eyes and gaze on each other +no longer." + +"What dost thou wish, then?" + +"Make the region of Death less delightful, less happy; if not, even those +two when their springtime of love shall be ended will leave me and follow +the others." + +Brahma thought for a moment and answered: + +"No! Oh no! I will not decrease beauty and happiness in the region of +Death, but I will do something for Life in its own realm. Henceforward +people will not pass to the other shore willingly, they must be forced to +it." + +When he had said this he made a thick veil out of darkness which no one +could see through, and next he created two terrible beings, one of these +he named Fear and the other one Pain. He commanded them then to hang that +black veil at the Passage. + +Thereafter Vishnu's kingdom was as crowded with life as it had been, for +though the region of Death was as calm, as serene, and as blissful as +ever, people dreaded the Passage. + + +[Illustration: SMALL CHAPEL ON THE SIENKIEWICZ ESTATE] + + + + +IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? + + +II + +IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? + + +In the distance a dark strip of pine wood was visible. In front of the +wood was a meadow, and amid fields of grain stood a cottage covered with a +straw roof and with moss. Birch trees hung their tresses above it. On a +fir tree stood a stork on its nest, and in a cherry garden were dark +beehives. + +Through an open gate a wanderer walked into the yard and said to the +mistress of the cottage, who was standing on its threshold: + +"Peace to this quiet house, to those trees, to the grain, to the whole +place, and to thee, mother!" + +The woman greeted him kindly, and added: + +"I will bring bread and milk to thee, wayfarer; but sit down the while and +rest, for it is clear that thou art coming back from a long journey." + +"I have wandered like that stork, and like a swallow; I come from afar, I +bring news from thy children." + +Her whole soul rushed to the eyes of that mother, and she asked the +wayfarer straightway: + +"Dost thou know of my Yasko?" + +"Dost thou love that son most that thou askest first about him? Well, one +son of thine is in forests, he works with his axe, he spreads his net in +lakes; another herds horses in the steppe, he sings plaintive songs and +looks at the stars; the third son climbs mountains, passes over naked +rocks and high pastures, spends the night with sheep and shouts at the +eagles. All bend down before thy knees and send thee greeting." + +"But Yasko?" asked the mother with an anxious face. + +"I keep sad news for the last. Life is going ill with Yasko: the field +does not give its fruit to him, poverty and hunger torment the man, his +days and months pass in suffering. Amid strangers and misery he has even +forgotten thy language; forget him, since he has no thought for thee." + +When he had finished, the woman took the man's hand, led him to her pantry +in the cottage, and, seizing a loaf from the shelf, she said: + +"Give this bread, O wayfarer, to Yasko!" + +Then she untied a small kerchief, took a bright silver coin from it, and +with trembling voice added: + +"I am not rich, but this too is for Yasko." + +"Woman!" said the wayfarer now with astonishment, "thou hast many sons, +but thou sendest gifts to only one of them. Dost thou love him more than +the others? Is he the dearest one?" + +She raised her great sad eyes, filled with tears, and answered: + +"My blessing is for them all, but my gifts are to Yasko, for I am a +mother, and he is my poorest son." + + + + +A LEGEND OF THE SEA + + +III + +A LEGEND OF THE SEA + + +There was a ship named "The Purple," so strong and so great that she +feared neither winds nor waves, even when they were raging most terribly. + +"The Purple" swept on, with every sail set, she rose upon each swelling +wave and crushed with her conquering prow hidden rocks on which other +ships foundered. She moved ever forward with sails which were gleaming in +sunlight, and moved with such swiftness that foam roared at her sides and +stretched out behind in a broad, endless road-streak. + +"That is a glorious craft," cried out crews on all other ships; "a man +might think that she sails just to punish the ocean." + +From time to time they called out to the crew of "The Purple": + +"Hei, men, to what port are ye sailing?" + +"To that port to which wind blows," said the men on "The Purple." + +"Have a care, there are rocks ahead! There are whirlpools!" + +In reply to this warning came back a song as loud as the wind was: + +"Let us sail on, let us sail ever joyously." + +Men on "The Purple" were gladsome. The crew, confiding in the strength of +their ship and the size of it, jeered at all perils. On other ships stern +discipline ruled, but on "The Purple" each man did what seemed good to +him. + +Life on that ship was one ceaseless holiday. The storms which she had +passed, the rocks which she had crushed, increased the crew's confidence. +"There are no reefs, there are no winds to wreck this ship," roared the +sailors. "Let a hurricane shiver the ocean, 'The Purple' will always sail +forward." + +And "The Purple" sailed; she was proud, she was splendid. + +Whole years passed--she was to all seeming invincible, she helped other +ships and took in on her deck drowning passengers. + +Blind faith increased every day in the breasts of the crew on "The +Purple." They grew slothful in good fortune and forgot their own art, they +forgot how to navigate. "Our 'Purple' will sail herself," said they. "Why +toil, why watch the ship, why pull at rudder, masts, sails, and ropes? Why +live by hard work and the sweat of our brows, when our ship is divine, +indestructible? Let us sail on, let us sail joyously." + +And they sailed for a very long period. At last, after years, the crew +became utterly effeminate, they forgot every duty, and no man of them +knew that that ship was decaying. Bitter water had weakened the spars, the +strong rigging had loosened, waves without number had shattered the +gunwales, dry rot was at work in the mainmast, the sails had grown weak +through exposure. + +The voice of sound sense was heard now despite every madness: + +"Be careful!" cried some of the sailors. + +"Never mind! We will sail with the current," cried out the majority. But +once such a storm came that to that hour its like had not been on the +water. The wind whirled ocean and clouds into one hellish chaos. Pillars +of water rose up and flew then with roars at "The Purple"; they were +raging and bellowing dreadfully. They fell on the ship, they drove her +down to the bottom, they hurled her up to the clouds, then cast her down +again. The weak rigging snapped, and now a quick cry of despair was heard +on the deck of that vessel. + +"'The Purple' is sinking!" + +"The Purple" was really sinking, while the crew, unaccustomed to work and +to navigate, knew not how to save her. + +But when the first moment of terror had passed, rage boiled up in their +hearts, for those mariners still loved that ship of theirs. + +All sprang up speedily, some rushed to fire cannon-balls at the winds and +foaming water, others seized what each man could find near him and flogged +that sea which was drowning "The Purple." + +Great was that fight of despair against the elements. But the waves had +more strength than the mariners. The guns filled with water and then they +were silent. Gigantic whirls seized struggling sailors and swept them out +into watery chaos. + +The crew decreased every minute, but they struggled on yet. Covered with +water, half-blinded, concealed by a mountain of foam, they fought till +they dropped in the battle. + +Strength left them, but after brief rest they sprang again to the +struggle. + +At last their hands fell. They felt that death was approaching. Dull +despair seized them. Those sailors looked at one another as if demented. + +Now those same voices which had warned previously of danger were raised +again, and more powerfully, so powerfully this time that the roar of the +waves could not drown them. + +Those voices said: + +"O blind men! How can ye cannonade wind, or flog waves? Mend your vessel! +Go to the hold. Work there. The ship 'Purple' is afloat yet." + +At these words those mariners, half-dead already, recovered, all rushed to +the hold and began then to work in it. And they worked from morning till +night in the sweat of their brows and with effort, seeking thus to +retrieve their past sloth and their blindness. + + + + +THE CRANES + + +IV + +THE CRANES + + +Homesickness (nostalgia) tortures mainly people who for various reasons +are utterly unable to return to their own country, but even those for whom +return is merely a question of will power feel its attacks sometimes. The +cause may be anything: a sunrise or a sunset which calls to mind a dawn or +an evening at home, some note of a foreign song in which the rhythm of +one's own country is heard, some group of trees which call to mind +remotely the native village--anything suffices! + +At such moments an immense, irresistible sadness seizes hold on the heart, +and immediately a feeling comes to a man that he is, as it were, a leaf +torn away from a distant but beloved tree. And in such moments the man is +forced to return, or, if he has imagination, he is driven to create. + +Once--a good many years back--I was sojourning on the shore of the Pacific +Ocean in a place called Anaheim Landing. My society was made up of some +sailor fishermen, Norwegians for the greater part, and a German, who gave +food to those fishermen and lodged them. Their days were passed on the +water; every evening they amused themselves with poker, a game at cards +which years ago was common in all the dramshops of America, long before +fashionable ladies in Europe began to play it. I was quite alone, and my +time passed in wandering with a gun over the open plain or along the shore +of the Pacific. I visited the sandbanks which a small river made as with a +broad mouth it entered the ocean; I waded in the shallow waters of this +river, noted its unknown fishes, its shells, and looked at the great +sea-lions which sunned themselves on a number of rocks at the river mouth. +Opposite was a small sandy island swarming with mews, pelicans, and +albatrosses; a real and populous bird commonwealth, filled with cries and +uproar. + +At times, when the day was calm, and when amid silence the surface of the +water took on a tinge almost violet, changing into gold, I sat in a boat +and rowed toward the little island, on which pelicans, unused to the sight +of man, looked at me less with fear than astonishment, as if wishing to +ask, "What sort of seal is this that we have not seen till to-day?" +Frequently I looked from that bank at sunsets which were simply +marvellous; they changed the whole horizon into one sea, gleaming with +gold, fire, and opal, which, passing into a brilliant purple, faded +gradually until the moon shone on the amethyst background of the heavens, +and the wonderful semi-tropical night had embraced the earth and the sky. +The empty land, the endlessness of the ocean, and the excess of light +disposed me somewhat toward mysticism. I became pantheistic, and had the +feeling that everything surrounding me formed a certain single great soul +which appears as the ocean, the sky, the plain, or diminishes into such +small living existences as birds, fish, shells, or broom on the ocean +shore. At times I thought also that those sand-hills and empty banks might +be inhabited by invisible beings like the ancient Greek fauns, nymphs, or +naiads. A man does not believe in such things when he turns to his own +reason; but involuntarily he admits that they are possible when he lives +only with Nature and in perfect seclusion. Life changes then, as it were, +into a drowsiness in which visions are more powerful than thought. As for +me, I was conscious only of that boundless calm which surrounded me, and I +felt that it was pleasant to be in it. At times I thought of future +"letters about my journey"; at times, too, I, as a young man, thought also +of "her," the unknown whom I should meet and love some time. In that +relaxation of thought, and on that empty, clear ocean shore, amid those +uncompleted ideas, undescribed desires, in that half dream, in +semi-consciousness, I was happier than ever in life before. But on a +certain evening I sat long on the little island and returned to the shore +after nightfall. The flowing tide brought me in--I scarcely had need to +lift an oar then. In other regions the flow of the tide is tempestuous, +but in that land of eternal good weather waves touch the sand shore with +gentleness; the ocean does not strike land with an outburst. Such silence +surrounded me that a quarter of a mile from the shore line I could have +heard the conversation of men. But that shore was unoccupied. I heard only +the squeak of the oars on my boat and the low plash of water moved by +them. + +Just then, from above, certain piercing cries reached me. I raised my +head, but on the dark background of the sky I could discern nothing. When +the cries were heard a second time, directly above, I recognized in them +the voices of cranes. + +Evidently a whole flock of cranes was flying somewhere above my head +toward the island of Santa Catalina. But I remembered that I had heard +cries like those more than once, when as a boy I journeyed from school for +vacation--and straightway a mighty homesickness seized hold of me. I +returned to the little room which I had hired in the cabin of the German, +but could not sleep. Pictures of my country passed then before my mind: +now a pine forest, now broad fields with pear trees on the boundaries, +now pleasant cottages, now village churches, now white mansions surrounded +by dense orchards. I yearned for such scenes all that night. + + +[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE HOUSE FROM THE POND ON THE SIENKIEWICZ +ESTATE] + + +I went out next morning, as usual, to the sand-banks. I felt that the +ocean and the sky, and the sand mounds on the shore, and the plains, and +the cliffs on which seals were basking in the sunlight, were things to me +absolutely foreign, things with which I had nothing in common, as they had +nothing in common with me. + +Only yesterday I had wandered about in that neighborhood and had judged +that my pulse was beating in answer to the pulse of that immense +universe; to-day I put to myself this question: What have I to do here; +why do I not go back to my birthplace? The feeling of harmony and +sweetness in life had vanished, leaving nothing behind it. Time, which +before had seemed so quiet and soothing, which was measured by the ebb and +flow of the ocean, now seemed unendurably tedious. I began to think of my +own land, of that which had remained in it, and that which had changed +with time's passage. + +America and my journey ceased altogether to interest me, and immediately +there swarmed in my head a throng of visions ever denser and denser, +composed wholly of memories. I could not tear myself free from them, +though they brought no delight to me. On the contrary, there was in those +memories much sadness, and even suffering, which rose from comparing our +sleepy and helpless country life with the bustling activity of America. +But the more our life seemed to me helpless and sleepy, the more it +mastered my soul, the dearer it grew to me, and the more I longed for it. +During succeeding days the visions grew still more definite, and at last +imagination began to develop, to arrange, to bring clearness and order +into one artistic plan. I began to create my own world. + +A week later, on a certain night when the Norwegians went out on the +ocean, I sat down in my little room and from under my pen flowed the +following words: "In Barania Glova, in the chancellery of the village +mayor, it was as calm as in time of sowing poppy seed." + +And thus, because cranes flew over the shore of the Pacific, I composed +"Charcoal Sketches." + + + + +THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS + + +V + +THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS + +A POEM IN PROSE + + +It was a night of spring, calm, silvery, and fragrant with dewy jasmine. +The full moon was sailing above Olympus, and on the glittering, snowy +summit of the mountain it shone with a clear, pensive, greenish light. +Farther down in the Vale of Tempe was a dark thicket of thorn-bushes, +shaken by the songs of nightingales--by entreaties, by complaints, by +calls, by allurements, by languor, by sighs. These sounds flowed like the +music of flutes, filling the night; they fell like a pouring rain, and +rushed on like rivers. At moments they ceased; then such silence followed +that one might almost hear the snow thawing on the heights under the warm +breath of May. It was an ambrosial night. + +On that night came Peter and Paul, and sat on the highest grassmound of +the slope to pass judgment on the gods of antiquity. The heads of the +Apostles were encircled by halos, which illuminated their gray hair, stern +brows, and severe eyes. Below, in the deep shade of beeches, stood the +assembly of gods, abandoned and in dread, awaiting their sentence. + +Peter motioned with his hand, and at the sign Zeus stepped forth first +from the assembly and approached the Apostles. The Cloud-Compeller was +still mighty, and as huge as if cut out of marble by Phidias, but weakened +and gloomy. His old eagle dragged along at his feet with broken wing, and +the blue thunderbolt, grown reddish in places from rust, and partly +quenched, seemed to be slipping from the stiffening right hand of the +former father of gods and men. But when he stood before the Apostles the +feeling of ancient supremacy filled his broad breast. He raised his head +haughtily, and fixed on the face of the aged fisherman of Galilee his +proud and glittering eyes, which were as angry and as terrible as +lightnings. + +Olympus, accustomed to tremble before its ruler, shook to its foundations. +The beeches quivered with fear, the song of the nightingales ceased, and +the moon sailing above the snows grew as white as the linen web of +Arachne. The eagle screamed through his crooked beak for the last time, +and the lightning, as if animated by its ancient force, flashed and began +to roar terribly at the feet of its master; it reared, hissed, snapped, +and raised its three-cornered, flaming forehead, like a serpent ready to +stab with poisonous fang. But Peter pressed the fiery bolts with his foot +and crushed them to the earth. Turning then to the Cloud-Compeller, he +pronounced this sentence: "Thou art cursed and condemned through all +eternity." At once Zeus was extinguished. Growing pale in the twinkle of +an eye, he whispered, with blackening lips, "[Greek: Anagkê]" +("Necessity"), and vanished through the earth. + +Poseidon of the dark curls next stood before the Apostles, with night in +his eyes, and in his hand the blunted trident. To him then spoke Peter: + +"It is not thou who wilt rouse the billows. It is not thou who wilt lead +the storm-tossed ships to a quiet haven, but she who is called the 'Star +of the Sea.'" + +When Poseidon heard this he screamed, as if pierced with sudden pain, and +turned into vanishing mist. + +Next rose Apollo, the Silver-bowed, with a hollow lute in his hand, and +walked toward the holy men. Behind him moved slowly the nine Muses, +looking like nine white pillars. Terror-stricken, they stood before the +judgment-seat, as if petrified, breathless, and without hope; but the +radiant Apollo turned to Paul, and, in a voice which resembled wondrous +music, said: + +"Slay me not! Protect me, lord; for shouldst thou slay me, thou wouldst +have to restore me to life again. I am the blossom of the soul of +humanity; I am its gladness; I am light; I am the yearning for God. Thou +knowest best that the song of earth will not reach heaven if thou break +its wings. Hence I implore thee, O saint, not to smite down Song." + +A moment of silence came. Peter raised his eyes toward the stars. Paul +placed his hands on his sword-hilt, rested his forehead on them, and for a +time fell into deep thought. At last he rose, made the sign of the cross +calmly above the radiant head of the god, and said: + +"Let Song live!" + +Apollo sat down with his lute at the feet of the Apostle. The night became +clearer, the jasmine gave out a stronger perfume, the glad fountains +sounded, the Muses gathered together like a flock of white swans, and, +with voices still quivering from fear, began to sing in low tones +marvellous words never heard on the heights of Olympus till that hour: + + To thy protection we flee, holy Mother of God. + We come with our prayers; deign thou not to reject us, + But be pleased to preserve us from every evil, + O thou, our Lady! + +Thus they sang on the heather, raising their eyes like pious nuns with +heads covered with white. + +Other gods came now. Bacchus and his chorus dashed past, wild, +unrestrained, crowned with ivy and grapevine, and bearing the cithara and +the thyrsus. They rushed on madly, with shouts of despair, and fell into +the bottomless pit. + +Then before the Apostles stood a lofty, proud, sarcastic divinity, who, +without waiting for question or sentence, spoke first. On her lips was a +smile of derision. + +"I am Pallas Athene. I do not beg life of you. I am an illusion, nothing +more. Odysseus honored and obeyed me only when he had become senile. +Telemachus listened to me only till hair covered his chin. Ye cannot take +immortality from me, and I declare that I have been a shadow, that I am a +shadow now, and shall remain a shadow forever." + +At last her turn came to the most beautiful, the most honored goddess. As +she approached, sweet, marvellous, tearful, the heart under her snow-white +breast beat like the heart in a bird, and her lips quivered like those of +a child that fears cruel punishment. She fell at their feet, and, +stretching forth her divine arms, cried in fear and humility: + +"I am sinful, I deserve blame, but I am Joy. Have mercy, forgive; I am the +one happiness of mankind." Then sobbing and fear took away her voice. + +But Peter looked at the goddess with compassion, and placed his aged palm +on her golden hair, while Paul, bending toward a cluster of white +field-lilies, broke off one blossom, and touching her with it, said: + +"Joy, be henceforth like this flower, and live thou for mankind." + +Then came dawn--the divine dawn that looked out from beyond a depression +between two peaks. The nightingales stopped singing, and immediately +finches, linnets, and wrens began to draw their sleepy little heads from +under their moistened wings, shaking the dew from their feathers, and +repeating in low voices, "_Svit! svit!_" ("Light! light!"). + +The earth awoke, smiled, and was delighted, because Song and Joy had not +been taken from it. + + + + +_THE ZAGLOBA ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated from the Polish by +Jeremiah Curtin._ + + +WITH FIRE AND SWORD + +An Historical Novel of Poland and Russia. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +The first of the famous trilogy of historical romances of Poland, Russia, +and Sweden. Their publication has been received as an event in literature. +Charles Dudley Warner, in _Harper's Magazine_, affirms that the Polish +author has in Zagloba _given a new creation to literature_. + +_A capital story._ The only modern romance with which it can be compared +for fire, sprightliness, rapidity of action, swift changes, and absorbing +interest is "The Three Musketeers" of Dumas.--_New York Tribune._ + + +THE DELUGE + +An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. A Sequel to "With Fire +and Sword." With map. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. $3.00. + +Marvellous in its grand descriptions.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + +Has the humor of a Cervantes and the grim vigor of Defoe.--_Boston +Gazette._ + + +PAN MICHAEL + +An Historical Novel of Poland, Russia, and the Ukraine. A Sequel to "With +Fire and Sword" and "The Deluge." Crown 8vo. $1.50. + + +The interest of the trilogy, both historical and romantic, is splendidly +sustained.--_The Dial_, Chicago. + + +QUO VADIS + +A Narrative of the Time of Nero. By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. Translated from +the Polish by JEREMIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +One of the greatest books of our day.--_The Bookman._ + +The book is like a grand historical pageant.--_Literary World._ + +Of intense interest to the whole Christian civilization.--_Chicago +Tribune._ + +Interest never wanes; and the story is carried through its many phases of +conflict and terror to a climax that enthralls.--_Chicago Record._ + +As a study of the introduction of the gospel of love into the pagan world +typified by Rome, it is marvellously fine.--_Chicago Interior._ + +The picture here given of life in Rome under the last of the Cæsars is one +of unparalleled power and vividness.--_Boston Home Journal._ + +One of the most remarkable books of the decade. It burns upon the brain +the struggles and triumphs of the early church.--_Boston Daily +Advertiser._ + +It will become recognized by virtue of its own merits as the one heroic +monument built by the modern novelist above the ruins of decadent Rome, +and in honor of the blessed martyrs of the early Church.--_Brooklyn +Eagle._ + +Our debt to Sienkiewicz is not less than our debt to his translator and +friend, Jeremiah Curtin. The diversity of the language, the rapid flow of +thought, the picturesque imagery of the descriptions are all his.--_Boston +Transcript._ + + +THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS + +An Historical Romance of Poland and Germany. By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. +Translated from the Polish by JEREMIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. 2 vols. Crown +8vo. $2.00. + +The greatest work Sienkiewicz has given us.--_Buffalo Express._ + +It seems superior even to "Quo Vadis" in strength and realism.--_The +Churchman._ + +The construction of the story is beyond praise. It is difficult to +conceive of any one who will not pick the book up with +eagerness.--_Chicago Evening Post._ + +There are some scenes in the book that for power and excitement remind one +of the great encounter between Ursus and the bull in "Quo +Vadis."--_Minneapolis Tribune._ + +Vivid, dramatic, and vigorous.... His imaginative power, his command of +language, and the picturesque scenes he sets combine to fascinate the +reader.--_Philadelphia Bulletin._ + +A book that holds your almost breathless attention as in a vise from the +very beginning, for in it love and strife, the most thrilling of all +worldly subjects, are described masterfully.--_The Boston Journal._ + +Another remarkable book. His descriptions are tremendously effective; one +can almost hear the sound of the carnage; to the mind's eye the scene of +battle is unfolded by a master artist.--_The Hartford Courant._ + +Thrillingly dramatic, full of strange local color and very faithful to its +period, besides having that sense of the mysterious and weird that throbs +in the Polish blood and infects alike their music and literature.--_The +St. Paul Globe._ + + + + +_OTHER NOVELS AND ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated from the +Polish by Jeremiah Curtin._ + + +CHILDREN OF THE SOIL + +Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +It must be reckoned among the finer fictions of our time, and shows its +author to be almost as great a master in the field of the domestic novel +as he had previously been shown to be in that of imaginative historical +romances.--_The Dial_, Chicago. + + +HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES + +With portrait. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +At the highest level of the author's genius.--_The Outlook._ + + +SIELANKA, A FOREST PICTURE + +And Other Stories. With frontispiece. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +They exhibit the masterly genius of Sienkiewicz even better than his +longer romances. They abound in fine character-drawings and beautiful +descriptions.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + + +LIFE AND DEATH AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES + +Illustrated. 16mo. Decorated cloth, $1.00. + + +WITHOUT DOGMA + +A Novel of Modern Poland. (Translated from the Polish by Iza Young.) Crown +8vo. $1.50. + +A human document read in the light of a great imagination.--_Boston +Beacon._ + + +LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS + +BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. + +The original text includes Greek characters. For this text version these +letters have been replaced with transliterations. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life and Death, by Henryk Sienkiewicz + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + +***** This file should be named 35736-8.txt or 35736-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/7/3/35736/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life and Death + And Other Legends and Stories + +Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz + +Translator: Jeremiah Curtin + +Release Date: April 1, 2011 [EBook #35736] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p><p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="giant">Life and Death</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge"><i>And Other Legends and Stories</i></span></p> + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="verts"> +<div class="vertsbox"> +<p class="center"><strong>THE WORKS OF HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ</strong></p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Translated from the Original Polish by Jeremiah Curtin.</span></p> +<p class="center"><i>The Zagloba Romances</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">With Fire and Sword.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Deluge.</span> 2 vols.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Pan Michael.</span> 1 vol.<br /><br /> +<span class="smcap">Quo Vadis.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Knights of the Cross.</span> 2 vols.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Children of the Soil.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hania, and Other Stories.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sielanka, and Other Stories.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Vain.</span> 1 vol.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Life and Death and Other Legends and Stories.</span> 1 vol.<br /><br /> +<span class="smcap">Without Dogma.</span> (Translated by Iza Young.) 1 vol.</p> +</div></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center">HOUSE PRESENTED TO HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ BY THE POLES<br /> +Mr. Sienkiewicz and Mr. Curtin in the foreground</p> + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="giant">Life and Death</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge"><i>And Other Legends and Stories</i></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">By<br /><span class="big">Henryk Sienkiewicz</span><br /> +Author of “With Fire and Sword,” “The Deluge,”<br /> +“Pan Michael,” “Quo Vadis,” “Knights<br /> +of the Cross,” etc.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>Translated from the Original Polish by</i><br /> +Jeremiah Curtin</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Boston<br />Little, Brown, and Company<br />1904</p> + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1904</i>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Jeremiah Curtin</span>.<br /><br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">THE UNIVERSITY PRESS<br />CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p><i>“Is He the Dearest One?” was produced under the following circumstances: +About fourteen years ago there was a famine, or at least hunger, in +Silesia. Though that land is a German possession at present, it was once a +part of the Polish Commonwealth, and there are many un-Germanized Poles in +it yet.</i></p> + +<p><i>The mother in this sketch is Poland. Yasko, the most unfortunate of her +sons, is Silesia. Poor, ill-fated, he neglects his own language, forgets +his mother; but she does not forget him, as was shown on the occasion of +that hunger in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> Silesia. The Poles of Russian Poland collected one million +marks and sent them to Yasko.</i></p> + +<p><i>The ship “Purple” represents Poland and its career, and is a very brief +summary of the essence and meaning of Polish history. Like some of the +author’s most beautiful short productions, it was written for a benevolent +object, all the money obtained for it being devoted to that object.</i></p> + +<p><i>All persons who have read “Charcoal Sketches,” in Sienkiewicz’s “Hania,” +will be interested to learn the origin of that striking production. It was +written mainly and finished in Los Angeles, Cal., as Sienkiewicz told me +in Switzerland six years ago, but it was begun at Anaheim Landing, as is +described in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> sketch printed in this volume, “The Cranes.” Besides +being begun at Anaheim Landing, the whole plan of “Charcoal Sketches” was +worked out there. “The Cranes” appeared in Lvov, or Lemburg, a few years +ago, in a paper which was published for one day only, and was made up of +contributions from Polish authors who gave these contributions for a +benevolent purpose. The Hindu legend, “Life and Death,” to be read by +Sienkiewicz at Warsaw in January, is his latest work.</i></p> + +<p class="right"><i>JEREMIAH CURTIN.</i></p> + +<p><i>Torbole, Lago di Garda, Austria,</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>December 18, 1903.</i></span></p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td> </td><td align="right"><small><i>Page</i></small></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Life and Death: A Hindu Legend</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Is He the Dearest One?</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Legend of the Sea</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Cranes</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Judgment of Peter and Paul on Olympus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2>LIFE AND DEATH<br /><i>A HINDU LEGEND</i></h2> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">LIFE AND DEATH<br /><i>A HINDU LEGEND</i></span></p> +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">I</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">LIFE AND DEATH</span></p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">There</span> were two regions lying side by side, as it were two immense plains, +with a clear river flowing between them.</p> + +<p>At one point the banks of this river sloped gently to a shallow ford in +the shape of a pond with transparent, calm water.</p> + +<p>Beneath the azure surface of this ford could be seen its golden bed, from +which grew stems of lotus; on those stems bloomed white and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>rose-colored +flowers above the mirror of water. Rainbow-hued insects and butterflies +circled around the flowers and among the palms of the shore, while higher +up in the sunny air birds gave out sounds like those of silver bells. This +pond was the passage from one region to the other.</p> + +<p>The first region was called the Plain of Life, the second the Plain of +Death.</p> + +<p>The supreme and all mighty Brahma had created both plains, and had +commanded the good Vishnu to rule in the Region of Life, while the wise +Siva was lord in the Region of Death.</p> + +<p>“Do what ye understand to be best,” said Brahma to the two rulers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>Hence in the region belonging to Vishnu life moved with all its activity. +The sun rose and set; day followed night, and night followed day; the sea +rose and fell; in the sky appeared clouds big with rain; the earth was +soon covered with forests, and crowded with beasts, birds, and people.</p> + +<p>So that all living creatures might increase greatly and multiply, the +kindly god created Love, which he made to be Happiness also.</p> + +<p>After this Brahma summoned Vishnu and said to him:</p> + +<p>“Thou canst produce nothing better on earth, and since heaven is created +already by me, do thou rest and let those whom thou callest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> people weave +the thread of life for themselves unassisted.”</p> + +<p>Vishnu obeyed this command, and henceforward men ordered their own lives. +From their good thoughts came joy, from their evil ones, sorrow; and they +saw soon with wonder that life was not an unbroken rejoicing, but that +with the life thread which Brahma had mentioned they wove out two webs as +it were with two faces,—on one of these was a smile; there were tears in +the eyes of the other.</p> + +<p>They went then to the throne of Vishnu and made complaint to him:</p> + +<p>“O Lord! life is grievous through sorrow.”</p> + +<p>“Let Love give you happiness,” said Vishnu in answer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>At these words they went away quieted, for Love indeed scattered their +sorrows, which, in view of the happiness given, seemed so insignificant as +to be undeserving of notice.</p> + +<p>But Love is also the mighty mother of life, hence, though the region which +Vishnu ruled was enormous, it was soon insufficient for the myriads of +people; soon there was not fruit enough upon trees there, nor berries +enough upon bushes, nor honey enough from cliff bees.</p> + +<p>Thereupon all the men who were wisest fell to cutting down forests for the +clearing of land, for the sowing of seed, for the winning of harvests.</p> + +<p>Thus Labor appeared among people. Soon all had to turn to it, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> labor +became not merely the basis of life, but life itself very nearly.</p> + +<p>But from Labor came Toil, and Toil produced Weariness.</p> + +<p>Great throngs of people appeared before Vishnu a second time.</p> + +<p>“O Lord!” exclaimed they, stretching their hands to him, “toil has +weakened our bodies, weariness spreads through our bones, we are yearning +for rest, but Life drives us always to labor.”</p> + +<p>To this Vishnu answered:</p> + +<p>“The great and all mighty Brahma has not allowed me to shape Life any +further, but I am free to make that which will cause it to halt, and rest +will come then to you.”</p> + +<p>And Vishnu made Sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>Men received this new gift with rejoicing, and very soon saw in it one of +the greatest boons given by the deity thus far. In sleep vanished care and +vexation, during sleep strength returned to the weary; sleep, like a +cherishing mother, wiped away tears of sorrow and surrounded the heads of +the slumbering with oblivion.</p> + +<p>So people glorified sleep, and repeated:</p> + +<p>“Be blessed, for thou art far better than life in our waking hours.”</p> + +<p>And they had one regret only, that it did not continue forever. After +sleep came awakening, and after awakening came labor with fresh toil and +weariness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>This thought began soon to torture all men so sorely, that for the third +time they stood before Vishnu.</p> + +<p>“O Lord,” said they, “thou hast given us a boon which, though great and +unspeakably precious, is incomplete as it now appears. Wilt thou grant us +that sleep be eternal?”</p> + +<p>Vishnu wrinkled his brows then in anger at this their insistence, and +answered:</p> + +<p>“I cannot give what ye ask of me, but go to the neighboring ford, and +beyond ye will find that for which ye are seeking.”</p> + +<p>The people heard the god’s voice and went on in legions immediately. They +went to the ford, and, halting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> there, gazed at the shore lying opposite.</p> + +<p>Beyond the clear, calm, and flower-bedecked surface stretched the Plain of +Death, or the Kingdom of Siva.</p> + +<p>The sun never rose and never set in that region; there was no day and no +night there, but the whole plain was of a lily-colored, absolute +clearness. No shadow fell in that region, for clearness inhered there so +thoroughly that it seemed the real essence of Siva’s dominions.</p> + +<p>The region was not empty. As far as the eye could reach were seen heights +and valleys where beautiful trees stood in groups; on those trees rose +climbing plants, while ivy and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> grapevines were hanging from the cliff +sides.</p> + +<p>But the cliffs and the tree trunks and the slender plant stems were almost +transparent, as if formed out of light grown material. The leaves of the +ivy had in them a delicate roseate light as of dawn. And all was in +marvellous rest, such as none on the Plain of Life had experienced; all +was as if sunk in serene meditation, as if dreaming and resting in +continuous slumber, unthreatened by waking.</p> + +<p>In the clear air not the slightest breeze was discovered, not a flower was +seen moving, not a leaf showed a quiver.</p> + +<p>The people who had come to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> shore with loud conversation and clamor +grew silent at sight of those lily-colored, motionless spaces, and +whispered:</p> + +<p>“What quiet! How everything rests there in clearness!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, there is rest and unbroken repose in that region.”</p> + +<p>So some, namely, those who were weariest, said after a silence:</p> + +<p>“Let us find the sleep which is surely unbroken.”</p> + +<p>And they entered the water. The rainbow-hued surface opened straightway +before them, as if wishing to lighten the passage. Those who remained on +the shore began now to call after them, but no man turned his head, and +all <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>hurried forward with willingness and lightly, attracted more and more +by the charm of that wonderful region.</p> + +<p>The throng which gazed from the shore of Life at them noted this also: +that as they moved forward their bodies grew gradually less heavy, +becoming transparent and purer, more radiant, and as it were blending with +that absolute clearness which filled the whole Plain of Death, Siva’s +kingdom.</p> + +<p>And when they had passed and disposed themselves amid flowers and at trees +or the bases of cliffs, to repose there, their eyes were closed, but their +faces had on them not only an expression of ineffable peace, but also of +happiness such as Love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> itself on the Plain of Life had never given.</p> + +<p>Seeing this, those who had halted behind said one to another:</p> + +<p>“The region belonging to Siva is sweeter and better.”</p> + +<p>And they began to pass to that shore in increasing numbers. There went in +solemn procession old men, and men in ripe years, and husbands and wives, +and mothers who led little children, and maidens, and youths, and then +thousands and millions of people pushed on toward that Calm Passage, till +at last the Plain of Life was depopulated almost entirely.</p> + +<p>Then Vishnu, whose task it was to keep life from extinction, was +frightened because of the advice which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> had given in his anger, and not +knowing what to do else hastened quickly to Brahma.</p> + +<p>“Save Life, O Creator!” said he. “Behold, thou hast made the inheritance +of Death now so beautiful, so serene, and so blissful that all men are +leaving my kingdom.”</p> + +<p>“Have none remained with thee there?” inquired Brahma.</p> + +<p>“Only one youth and one maiden, who are in love beyond measure; they +renounce endless bliss rather than close their eyes and gaze on each other +no longer.”</p> + +<p>“What dost thou wish, then?”</p> + +<p>“Make the region of Death less delightful, less happy; if not, even those +two when their springtime of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> love shall be ended will leave me and follow +the others.”</p> + +<p>Brahma thought for a moment and answered:</p> + +<p>“No! Oh no! I will not decrease beauty and happiness in the region of +Death, but I will do something for Life in its own realm. Henceforward +people will not pass to the other shore willingly, they must be forced to +it.”</p> + +<p>When he had said this he made a thick veil out of darkness which no one +could see through, and next he created two terrible beings, one of these +he named Fear and the other one Pain. He commanded them then to hang that +black veil at the Passage.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>Thereafter Vishnu’s kingdom was as crowded with life as it had been, for +though the region of Death was as calm, as serene, and as blissful as +ever, people dreaded the Passage.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img1.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center">SMALL CHAPEL ON THE SIENKIEWICZ ESTATE</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> +<h2>IS HE THE DEAREST ONE?</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">II</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">IS HE THE DEAREST ONE?</span></p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">In</span> the distance a dark strip of pine wood was visible. In front of the +wood was a meadow, and amid fields of grain stood a cottage covered with a +straw roof and with moss. Birch trees hung their tresses above it. On a +fir tree stood a stork on its nest, and in a cherry garden were dark +beehives.</p> + +<p>Through an open gate a wanderer walked into the yard and said to the +mistress of the cottage, who was standing on its threshold:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>“Peace to this quiet house, to those trees, to the grain, to the whole +place, and to thee, mother!”</p> + +<p>The woman greeted him kindly, and added:</p> + +<p>“I will bring bread and milk to thee, wayfarer; but sit down the while and +rest, for it is clear that thou art coming back from a long journey.”</p> + +<p>“I have wandered like that stork, and like a swallow; I come from afar, I +bring news from thy children.”</p> + +<p>Her whole soul rushed to the eyes of that mother, and she asked the +wayfarer straightway:</p> + +<p>“Dost thou know of my Yasko?”</p> + +<p>“Dost thou love that son most that thou askest first about him?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Well, one +son of thine is in forests, he works with his axe, he spreads his net in +lakes; another herds horses in the steppe, he sings plaintive songs and +looks at the stars; the third son climbs mountains, passes over naked +rocks and high pastures, spends the night with sheep and shouts at the +eagles. All bend down before thy knees and send thee greeting.”</p> + +<p>“But Yasko?” asked the mother with an anxious face.</p> + +<p>“I keep sad news for the last. Life is going ill with Yasko: the field +does not give its fruit to him, poverty and hunger torment the man, his +days and months pass in suffering. Amid strangers and misery he has even +forgotten thy language; forget<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> him, since he has no thought for thee.”</p> + +<p>When he had finished, the woman took the man’s hand, led him to her pantry +in the cottage, and, seizing a loaf from the shelf, she said:</p> + +<p>“Give this bread, O wayfarer, to Yasko!”</p> + +<p>Then she untied a small kerchief, took a bright silver coin from it, and +with trembling voice added:</p> + +<p>“I am not rich, but this too is for Yasko.”</p> + +<p>“Woman!” said the wayfarer now with astonishment, “thou hast many sons, +but thou sendest gifts to only one of them. Dost thou love him more than +the others? Is he the dearest one?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>She raised her great sad eyes, filled with tears, and answered:</p> + +<p>“My blessing is for them all, but my gifts are to Yasko, for I am a +mother, and he is my poorest son.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<h2>A LEGEND OF THE SEA</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">III</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">A LEGEND OF THE SEA</span></p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">There</span> was a ship named “The Purple,” so strong and so great that she +feared neither winds nor waves, even when they were raging most terribly.</p> + +<p>“The Purple” swept on, with every sail set, she rose upon each swelling +wave and crushed with her conquering prow hidden rocks on which other +ships foundered. She moved ever forward with sails which were gleaming in +sunlight, and moved with such swiftness that foam roared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> at her sides and +stretched out behind in a broad, endless road-streak.</p> + +<p>“That is a glorious craft,” cried out crews on all other ships; “a man +might think that she sails just to punish the ocean.”</p> + +<p>From time to time they called out to the crew of “The Purple”:</p> + +<p>“Hei, men, to what port are ye sailing?”</p> + +<p>“To that port to which wind blows,” said the men on “The Purple.”</p> + +<p>“Have a care, there are rocks ahead! There are whirlpools!”</p> + +<p>In reply to this warning came back a song as loud as the wind was:</p> + +<p>“Let us sail on, let us sail ever joyously.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>Men on “The Purple” were gladsome. The crew, confiding in the strength of +their ship and the size of it, jeered at all perils. On other ships stern +discipline ruled, but on “The Purple” each man did what seemed good to +him.</p> + +<p>Life on that ship was one ceaseless holiday. The storms which she had +passed, the rocks which she had crushed, increased the crew’s confidence. +“There are no reefs, there are no winds to wreck this ship,” roared the +sailors. “Let a hurricane shiver the ocean, ‘The Purple’ will always sail +forward.”</p> + +<p>And “The Purple” sailed; she was proud, she was splendid.</p> + +<p>Whole years passed—she was to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> all seeming invincible, she helped other +ships and took in on her deck drowning passengers.</p> + +<p>Blind faith increased every day in the breasts of the crew on “The +Purple.” They grew slothful in good fortune and forgot their own art, they +forgot how to navigate. “Our ‘Purple’ will sail herself,” said they. “Why +toil, why watch the ship, why pull at rudder, masts, sails, and ropes? Why +live by hard work and the sweat of our brows, when our ship is divine, +indestructible? Let us sail on, let us sail joyously.”</p> + +<p>And they sailed for a very long period. At last, after years, the crew +became utterly effeminate, they forgot every duty, and no man of them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +knew that that ship was decaying. Bitter water had weakened the spars, the +strong rigging had loosened, waves without number had shattered the +gunwales, dry rot was at work in the mainmast, the sails had grown weak +through exposure.</p> + +<p>The voice of sound sense was heard now despite every madness:</p> + +<p>“Be careful!” cried some of the sailors.</p> + +<p>“Never mind! We will sail with the current,” cried out the majority. But +once such a storm came that to that hour its like had not been on the +water. The wind whirled ocean and clouds into one hellish chaos. Pillars +of water rose up and flew then with roars at “The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> Purple”; they were +raging and bellowing dreadfully. They fell on the ship, they drove her +down to the bottom, they hurled her up to the clouds, then cast her down +again. The weak rigging snapped, and now a quick cry of despair was heard +on the deck of that vessel.</p> + +<p>“‘The Purple’ is sinking!”</p> + +<p>“The Purple” was really sinking, while the crew, unaccustomed to work and +to navigate, knew not how to save her.</p> + +<p>But when the first moment of terror had passed, rage boiled up in their +hearts, for those mariners still loved that ship of theirs.</p> + +<p>All sprang up speedily, some rushed to fire cannon-balls at the winds and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +foaming water, others seized what each man could find near him and flogged +that sea which was drowning “The Purple.”</p> + +<p>Great was that fight of despair against the elements. But the waves had +more strength than the mariners. The guns filled with water and then they +were silent. Gigantic whirls seized struggling sailors and swept them out +into watery chaos.</p> + +<p>The crew decreased every minute, but they struggled on yet. Covered with +water, half-blinded, concealed by a mountain of foam, they fought till +they dropped in the battle.</p> + +<p>Strength left them, but after brief rest they sprang again to the +struggle.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>At last their hands fell. They felt that death was approaching. Dull +despair seized them. Those sailors looked at one another as if demented.</p> + +<p>Now those same voices which had warned previously of danger were raised +again, and more powerfully, so powerfully this time that the roar of the +waves could not drown them.</p> + +<p>Those voices said:</p> + +<p>“O blind men! How can ye cannonade wind, or flog waves? Mend your vessel! +Go to the hold. Work there. The ship ‘Purple’ is afloat yet.”</p> + +<p>At these words those mariners, half-dead already, recovered, all rushed to +the hold and began then to work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> in it. And they worked from morning till +night in the sweat of their brows and with effort, seeking thus to +retrieve their past sloth and their blindness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CRANES</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">IV</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE CRANES</span></p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Homesickness</span> (nostalgia) tortures mainly people who for various reasons +are utterly unable to return to their own country, but even those for whom +return is merely a question of will power feel its attacks sometimes. The +cause may be anything: a sunrise or a sunset which calls to mind a dawn or +an evening at home, some note of a foreign song in which the rhythm of +one’s own country is heard, some group of trees which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> call to mind +remotely the native village—anything suffices!</p> + +<p>At such moments an immense, irresistible sadness seizes hold on the heart, +and immediately a feeling comes to a man that he is, as it were, a leaf +torn away from a distant but beloved tree. And in such moments the man is +forced to return, or, if he has imagination, he is driven to create.</p> + +<p>Once—a good many years back—I was sojourning on the shore of the Pacific +Ocean in a place called Anaheim Landing. My society was made up of some +sailor fishermen, Norwegians for the greater part, and a German, who gave +food to those fishermen and lodged them. Their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> days were passed on the +water; every evening they amused themselves with poker, a game at cards +which years ago was common in all the dramshops of America, long before +fashionable ladies in Europe began to play it. I was quite alone, and my +time passed in wandering with a gun over the open plain or along the shore +of the Pacific. I visited the sandbanks which a small river made as with a +broad mouth it entered the ocean; I waded in the shallow waters of this +river, noted its unknown fishes, its shells, and looked at the great +sea-lions which sunned themselves on a number of rocks at the river mouth. +Opposite was a small sandy island swarming with mews,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> pelicans, and +albatrosses; a real and populous bird commonwealth, filled with cries and +uproar.</p> + +<p>At times, when the day was calm, and when amid silence the surface of the +water took on a tinge almost violet, changing into gold, I sat in a boat +and rowed toward the little island, on which pelicans, unused to the sight +of man, looked at me less with fear than astonishment, as if wishing to +ask, “What sort of seal is this that we have not seen till to-day?” +Frequently I looked from that bank at sunsets which were simply +marvellous; they changed the whole horizon into one sea, gleaming with +gold, fire, and opal, which, passing into a brilliant purple, faded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +gradually until the moon shone on the amethyst background of the heavens, +and the wonderful semi-tropical night had embraced the earth and the sky. +The empty land, the endlessness of the ocean, and the excess of light +disposed me somewhat toward mysticism. I became pantheistic, and had the +feeling that everything surrounding me formed a certain single great soul +which appears as the ocean, the sky, the plain, or diminishes into such +small living existences as birds, fish, shells, or broom on the ocean +shore. At times I thought also that those sand-hills and empty banks might +be inhabited by invisible beings like the ancient Greek fauns, nymphs, or +naiads. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> man does not believe in such things when he turns to his own +reason; but involuntarily he admits that they are possible when he lives +only with Nature and in perfect seclusion. Life changes then, as it were, +into a drowsiness in which visions are more powerful than thought. As for +me, I was conscious only of that boundless calm which surrounded me, and I +felt that it was pleasant to be in it. At times I thought of future +“letters about my journey”; at times, too, I, as a young man, thought also +of “her,” the unknown whom I should meet and love some time. In that +relaxation of thought, and on that empty, clear ocean shore, amid those +uncompleted ideas, undescribed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>desires, in that half dream, in +semi-consciousness, I was happier than ever in life before. But on a +certain evening I sat long on the little island and returned to the shore +after nightfall. The flowing tide brought me in—I scarcely had need to +lift an oar then. In other regions the flow of the tide is tempestuous, +but in that land of eternal good weather waves touch the sand shore with +gentleness; the ocean does not strike land with an outburst. Such silence +surrounded me that a quarter of a mile from the shore line I could have +heard the conversation of men. But that shore was unoccupied. I heard only +the squeak of the oars on my boat and the low plash of water moved by +them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>Just then, from above, certain piercing cries reached me. I raised my +head, but on the dark background of the sky I could discern nothing. When +the cries were heard a second time, directly above, I recognized in them +the voices of cranes.</p> + +<p>Evidently a whole flock of cranes was flying somewhere above my head +toward the island of Santa Catalina. But I remembered that I had heard +cries like those more than once, when as a boy I journeyed from school for +vacation—and straightway a mighty homesickness seized hold of me. I +returned to the little room which I had hired in the cabin of the German, +but could not sleep. Pictures of my country passed then before my mind: +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>now a pine forest, now broad fields with pear trees on the boundaries, +now pleasant cottages, now village churches, now white mansions surrounded +by dense orchards. I yearned for such scenes all that night.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img2.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center">A VIEW OF THE HOUSE FROM THE POND<br />ON THE SIENKIEWICZ ESTATE</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>I went out next morning, as usual, to the sand-banks. I felt that the +ocean and the sky, and the sand mounds on the shore, and the plains, and +the cliffs on which seals were basking in the sunlight, were things to me +absolutely foreign, things with which I had nothing in common, as they had +nothing in common with me.</p> + +<p>Only yesterday I had wandered about in that neighborhood and had judged +that my pulse was beating in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> answer to the pulse of that immense +universe; to-day I put to myself this question: What have I to do here; +why do I not go back to my birthplace? The feeling of harmony and +sweetness in life had vanished, leaving nothing behind it. Time, which +before had seemed so quiet and soothing, which was measured by the ebb and +flow of the ocean, now seemed unendurably tedious. I began to think of my +own land, of that which had remained in it, and that which had changed +with time’s passage.</p> + +<p>America and my journey ceased altogether to interest me, and immediately +there swarmed in my head a throng of visions ever denser and denser, +composed wholly of memories.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> I could not tear myself free from them, +though they brought no delight to me. On the contrary, there was in those +memories much sadness, and even suffering, which rose from comparing our +sleepy and helpless country life with the bustling activity of America. +But the more our life seemed to me helpless and sleepy, the more it +mastered my soul, the dearer it grew to me, and the more I longed for it. +During succeeding days the visions grew still more definite, and at last +imagination began to develop, to arrange, to bring clearness and order +into one artistic plan. I began to create my own world.</p> + +<p>A week later, on a certain night when the Norwegians went out on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> the +ocean, I sat down in my little room and from under my pen flowed the +following words: “In Barania Glova, in the chancellery of the village +mayor, it was as calm as in time of sowing poppy seed.”</p> + +<p>And thus, because cranes flew over the shore of the Pacific, I composed +“Charcoal Sketches.”</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS</h2> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="big">V</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS</span></p> +<p class="center">A POEM IN PROSE</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">It</span> was a night of spring, calm, silvery, and fragrant with dewy jasmine. +The full moon was sailing above Olympus, and on the glittering, snowy +summit of the mountain it shone with a clear, pensive, greenish light. +Farther down in the Vale of Tempe was a dark thicket of thorn-bushes, +shaken by the songs of nightingales—by entreaties, by complaints, by +calls, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> allurements, by languor, by sighs. These sounds flowed like the +music of flutes, filling the night; they fell like a pouring rain, and +rushed on like rivers. At moments they ceased; then such silence followed +that one might almost hear the snow thawing on the heights under the warm +breath of May. It was an ambrosial night.</p> + +<p>On that night came Peter and Paul, and sat on the highest grassmound of +the slope to pass judgment on the gods of antiquity. The heads of the +Apostles were encircled by halos, which illuminated their gray hair, stern +brows, and severe eyes. Below, in the deep shade of beeches, stood the +assembly of gods, abandoned and in dread, awaiting their sentence.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>Peter motioned with his hand, and at the sign Zeus stepped forth first +from the assembly and approached the Apostles. The Cloud-Compeller was +still mighty, and as huge as if cut out of marble by Phidias, but weakened +and gloomy. His old eagle dragged along at his feet with broken wing, and +the blue thunderbolt, grown reddish in places from rust, and partly +quenched, seemed to be slipping from the stiffening right hand of the +former father of gods and men. But when he stood before the Apostles the +feeling of ancient supremacy filled his broad breast. He raised his head +haughtily, and fixed on the face of the aged fisherman of Galilee his +proud and glittering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> eyes, which were as angry and as terrible as +lightnings.</p> + +<p>Olympus, accustomed to tremble before its ruler, shook to its foundations. +The beeches quivered with fear, the song of the nightingales ceased, and +the moon sailing above the snows grew as white as the linen web of +Arachne. The eagle screamed through his crooked beak for the last time, +and the lightning, as if animated by its ancient force, flashed and began +to roar terribly at the feet of its master; it reared, hissed, snapped, +and raised its three-cornered, flaming forehead, like a serpent ready to +stab with poisonous fang. But Peter pressed the fiery bolts with his foot +and crushed them to the earth. Turning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> then to the Cloud-Compeller, he +pronounced this sentence: “Thou art cursed and condemned through all +eternity.” At once Zeus was extinguished. Growing pale in the twinkle of +an eye, he whispered, with blackening lips, “<ins class="correction" title="Anagkê">᾽Ανάγκη</ins>” +(“Necessity”), and vanished through the earth.</p> + +<p>Poseidon of the dark curls next stood before the Apostles, with night in +his eyes, and in his hand the blunted trident. To him then spoke Peter:</p> + +<p>“It is not thou who wilt rouse the billows. It is not thou who wilt lead +the storm-tossed ships to a quiet haven, but she who is called the ‘Star +of the Sea.’”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>When Poseidon heard this he screamed, as if pierced with sudden pain, and +turned into vanishing mist.</p> + +<p>Next rose Apollo, the Silver-bowed, with a hollow lute in his hand, and +walked toward the holy men. Behind him moved slowly the nine Muses, +looking like nine white pillars. Terror-stricken, they stood before the +judgment-seat, as if petrified, breathless, and without hope; but the +radiant Apollo turned to Paul, and, in a voice which resembled wondrous +music, said:</p> + +<p>“Slay me not! Protect me, lord; for shouldst thou slay me, thou wouldst +have to restore me to life again. I am the blossom of the soul of +humanity; I am its gladness; I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> am light; I am the yearning for God. Thou +knowest best that the song of earth will not reach heaven if thou break +its wings. Hence I implore thee, O saint, not to smite down Song.”</p> + +<p>A moment of silence came. Peter raised his eyes toward the stars. Paul +placed his hands on his sword-hilt, rested his forehead on them, and for a +time fell into deep thought. At last he rose, made the sign of the cross +calmly above the radiant head of the god, and said:</p> + +<p>“Let Song live!”</p> + +<p>Apollo sat down with his lute at the feet of the Apostle. The night became +clearer, the jasmine gave out a stronger perfume, the glad <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>fountains +sounded, the Muses gathered together like a flock of white swans, and, +with voices still quivering from fear, began to sing in low tones +marvellous words never heard on the heights of Olympus till that hour:</p> + +<p class="poem">To thy protection we flee, holy Mother of God.<br /> +We come with our prayers; deign thou not to reject us,<br /> +But be pleased to preserve us from every evil,<br /> +O thou, our Lady!</p> + +<p>Thus they sang on the heather, raising their eyes like pious nuns with +heads covered with white.</p> + +<p>Other gods came now. Bacchus and his chorus dashed past, wild, +unrestrained, crowned with ivy and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> grapevine, and bearing the cithara and +the thyrsus. They rushed on madly, with shouts of despair, and fell into +the bottomless pit.</p> + +<p>Then before the Apostles stood a lofty, proud, sarcastic divinity, who, +without waiting for question or sentence, spoke first. On her lips was a +smile of derision.</p> + +<p>“I am Pallas Athene. I do not beg life of you. I am an illusion, nothing +more. Odysseus honored and obeyed me only when he had become senile. +Telemachus listened to me only till hair covered his chin. Ye cannot take +immortality from me, and I declare that I have been a shadow, that I am a +shadow now, and shall remain a shadow forever.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>At last her turn came to the most beautiful, the most honored goddess. As +she approached, sweet, marvellous, tearful, the heart under her snow-white +breast beat like the heart in a bird, and her lips quivered like those of +a child that fears cruel punishment. She fell at their feet, and, +stretching forth her divine arms, cried in fear and humility:</p> + +<p>“I am sinful, I deserve blame, but I am Joy. Have mercy, forgive; I am the +one happiness of mankind.” Then sobbing and fear took away her voice.</p> + +<p>But Peter looked at the goddess with compassion, and placed his aged palm +on her golden hair, while Paul, bending toward a cluster of white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +field-lilies, broke off one blossom, and touching her with it, said:</p> + +<p>“Joy, be henceforth like this flower, and live thou for mankind.”</p> + +<p>Then came dawn—the divine dawn that looked out from beyond a depression +between two peaks. The nightingales stopped singing, and immediately +finches, linnets, and wrens began to draw their sleepy little heads from +under their moistened wings, shaking the dew from their feathers, and +repeating in low voices, “<i>Svit! svit!</i>” (“Light! light!”).</p> + +<p>The earth awoke, smiled, and was delighted, because Song and Joy had not +been taken from it.</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<div class="verts"> +<p><i>THE ZAGLOBA ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated from the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><br />WITH FIRE AND SWORD</p> + +<p>An Historical Novel of Poland and Russia. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">The first of the famous trilogy of historical romances of Poland, Russia, +and Sweden. Their publication has been received as an event in literature. +Charles Dudley Warner, in <i>Harper’s Magazine</i>, affirms that the Polish +author has in Zagloba <i>given a new creation to literature</i>.</p> + +<p><i>A capital story.</i> The only modern romance with which it can be compared +for fire, sprightliness, rapidity of action, swift changes, and absorbing +interest is “The Three Musketeers” of Dumas.—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><br />THE DELUGE</p> + +<p>An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. A Sequel to “With Fire +and Sword.” With map. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. $3.00.</p> + +<p>Marvellous in its grand descriptions.—<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p> + +<p>Has the humor of a Cervantes and the grim vigor of Defoe.—<i>Boston +Gazette.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><br />PAN MICHAEL</p> + +<p>An Historical Novel of Poland, Russia, and the Ukraine. A Sequel to “With +Fire and Sword” and “The Deluge.” Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>The interest of the trilogy, both historical and romantic, is splendidly +sustained.—<i>The Dial</i>, Chicago.</p> + + + +<p class="center"><br />QUO VADIS</p> + +<p>A Narrative of the Time of Nero. By <span class="smcap">Henryk Sienkiewicz</span>. Translated from +the Polish by <span class="smcap">Jeremiah Curtin</span>. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>One of the greatest books of our day.—<i>The Bookman.</i></p> + +<p>The book is like a grand historical pageant.—<i>Literary World.</i></p> + +<p>Of intense interest to the whole Christian civilization.—<i>Chicago +Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>Interest never wanes; and the story is carried through its many phases of +conflict and terror to a climax that enthralls.—<i>Chicago Record.</i></p> + +<p>As a study of the introduction of the gospel of love into the pagan world +typified by Rome, it is marvellously fine.—<i>Chicago Interior.</i></p> + +<p>The picture here given of life in Rome under the last of the Cæsars is one +of unparalleled power and vividness.—<i>Boston Home Journal.</i></p> + +<p>One of the most remarkable books of the decade. It burns upon the brain +the struggles and triumphs of the early church.—<i>Boston Daily +Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>It will become recognized by virtue of its own merits as the one heroic +monument built by the modern novelist above the ruins of decadent Rome, +and in honor of the blessed martyrs of the early Church.—<i>Brooklyn +Eagle.</i></p> + +<p>Our debt to Sienkiewicz is not less than our debt to his translator and +friend, Jeremiah Curtin. The diversity of the language, the rapid flow of +thought, the picturesque imagery of the descriptions are all his.—<i>Boston +Transcript.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><br />THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS</p> + +<p>An Historical Romance of Poland and Germany. By <span class="smcap">Henryk Sienkiewicz</span>. +Translated from the Polish by <span class="smcap">Jeremiah Curtin</span>. Illustrated. 2 vols. Crown +8vo. $2.00.</p> + +<p>The greatest work Sienkiewicz has given us.—<i>Buffalo Express.</i></p> + +<p>It seems superior even to “Quo Vadis” in strength and realism.—<i>The +Churchman.</i></p> + +<p>The construction of the story is beyond praise. It is difficult to +conceive of any one who will not pick the book up with +eagerness.—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>There are some scenes in the book that for power and excitement remind one +of the great encounter between Ursus and the bull in “Quo +Vadis.”—<i>Minneapolis Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>Vivid, dramatic, and vigorous.... His imaginative power, his command of +language, and the picturesque scenes he sets combine to fascinate the +reader.—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin.</i></p> + +<p>A book that holds your almost breathless attention as in a vise from the +very beginning, for in it love and strife, the most thrilling of all +worldly subjects, are described masterfully.—<i>The Boston Journal.</i></p> + +<p>Another remarkable book. His descriptions are tremendously effective; one +can almost hear the sound of the carnage; to the mind’s eye the scene of +battle is unfolded by a master artist.—<i>The Hartford Courant.</i></p> + +<p>Thrillingly dramatic, full of strange local color and very faithful to its +period, besides having that sense of the mysterious and weird that throbs +in the Polish blood and infects alike their music and literature.—<i>The +St. Paul Globe.</i></p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>OTHER NOVELS AND ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz.<br />Translated from the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><br />CHILDREN OF THE SOIL</p> + +<p class="center">Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>It must be reckoned among the finer fictions of our time, and shows its +author to be almost as great a master in the field of the domestic novel +as he had previously been shown to be in that of imaginative historical +romances.—<i>The Dial</i>, Chicago.</p> + + +<p class="center"><br />HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES</p> + +<p class="center">With portrait. Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>At the highest level of the author’s genius.—<i>The Outlook.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><br />SIELANKA, A FOREST PICTURE</p> + +<p class="center">And Other Stories. With frontispiece. Crown 8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>They exhibit the masterly genius of Sienkiewicz even better than his +longer romances. They abound in fine character-drawings and beautiful +descriptions.—<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><br />LIFE AND DEATH AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated. 16mo. Decorated cloth, $1.00.</p> + + +<p class="center"><br />WITHOUT DOGMA</p> + +<p class="center">A Novel of Modern Poland.<br />(Translated from the Polish by Iza Young.)<br />Crown +8vo. $1.50.</p> + +<p>A human document read in the light of a great imagination.—<i>Boston +Beacon.</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Publishers</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Boston, Massachusetts</span></p></div> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life and Death, by Henryk Sienkiewicz + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + +***** This file should be named 35736-h.htm or 35736-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/7/3/35736/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life and Death + And Other Legends and Stories + +Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz + +Translator: Jeremiah Curtin + +Release Date: April 1, 2011 [EBook #35736] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + + + + + + + + +Life and Death + +_And Other Legends and Stories_ + + + + +THE WORKS OF HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ + +TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL POLISH BY JEREMIAH CURTIN. + + +_The Zagloba Romances_ + + WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 1 vol. + THE DELUGE. 2 vols. + PAN MICHAEL. 1 vol. + + + QUO VADIS. 1 vol. + THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS. 2 vols. + CHILDREN OF THE SOIL. 1 vol. + HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES. 1 vol. + SIELANKA, AND OTHER STORIES. 1 vol. + IN VAIN. 1 vol. + LIFE AND DEATH AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES. 1 vol. + + + WITHOUT DOGMA. (Translated by Iza Young.) 1 vol. + + + + +[Illustration: HOUSE PRESENTED TO HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ BY THE POLES + +Mr. Sienkiewicz and Mr. Curtin in the foreground] + + + + + Life and Death + + _And Other Legends and Stories_ + + + By Henryk Sienkiewicz + + Author of "With Fire and Sword," "The Deluge," + "Pan Michael," "Quo Vadis," "Knights + of the Cross," etc. + + + _Translated from the Original Polish by_ + Jeremiah Curtin + + + Boston + Little, Brown, and Company + 1904 + + + + + _Copyright, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1904_, + BY JEREMIAH CURTIN. + + _All rights reserved_ + + + THE UNIVERSITY PRESS + CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. + + + + +PREFACE + + +_"Is He the Dearest One?" was produced under the following circumstances: +About fourteen years ago there was a famine, or at least hunger, in +Silesia. Though that land is a German possession at present, it was once a +part of the Polish Commonwealth, and there are many un-Germanized Poles in +it yet._ + +_The mother in this sketch is Poland. Yasko, the most unfortunate of her +sons, is Silesia. Poor, ill-fated, he neglects his own language, forgets +his mother; but she does not forget him, as was shown on the occasion of +that hunger in Silesia. The Poles of Russian Poland collected one million +marks and sent them to Yasko._ + +_The ship "Purple" represents Poland and its career, and is a very brief +summary of the essence and meaning of Polish history. Like some of the +author's most beautiful short productions, it was written for a benevolent +object, all the money obtained for it being devoted to that object._ + +_All persons who have read "Charcoal Sketches," in Sienkiewicz's "Hania," +will be interested to learn the origin of that striking production. It was +written mainly and finished in Los Angeles, Cal., as Sienkiewicz told me +in Switzerland six years ago, but it was begun at Anaheim Landing, as is +described in the sketch printed in this volume, "The Cranes." Besides +being begun at Anaheim Landing, the whole plan of "Charcoal Sketches" was +worked out there. "The Cranes" appeared in Lvov, or Lemburg, a few years +ago, in a paper which was published for one day only, and was made up of +contributions from Polish authors who gave these contributions for a +benevolent purpose. The Hindu legend, "Life and Death," to be read by +Sienkiewicz at Warsaw in January, is his latest work._ + +_JEREMIAH CURTIN._ + + _Torbole, Lago di Garda, Austria, + December 18, 1903._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + _Page_ + + LIFE AND DEATH: A HINDU LEGEND 3 + + IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? 21 + + A LEGEND OF THE SEA 29 + + THE CRANES 41 + + THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS 55 + + + + +LIFE AND DEATH _A HINDU LEGEND_ + + +LIFE AND DEATH _A HINDU LEGEND_ + + +I + +LIFE AND DEATH + + +There were two regions lying side by side, as it were two immense plains, +with a clear river flowing between them. + +At one point the banks of this river sloped gently to a shallow ford in +the shape of a pond with transparent, calm water. + +Beneath the azure surface of this ford could be seen its golden bed, from +which grew stems of lotus; on those stems bloomed white and rose-colored +flowers above the mirror of water. Rainbow-hued insects and butterflies +circled around the flowers and among the palms of the shore, while higher +up in the sunny air birds gave out sounds like those of silver bells. This +pond was the passage from one region to the other. + +The first region was called the Plain of Life, the second the Plain of +Death. + +The supreme and all mighty Brahma had created both plains, and had +commanded the good Vishnu to rule in the Region of Life, while the wise +Siva was lord in the Region of Death. + +"Do what ye understand to be best," said Brahma to the two rulers. + +Hence in the region belonging to Vishnu life moved with all its activity. +The sun rose and set; day followed night, and night followed day; the sea +rose and fell; in the sky appeared clouds big with rain; the earth was +soon covered with forests, and crowded with beasts, birds, and people. + +So that all living creatures might increase greatly and multiply, the +kindly god created Love, which he made to be Happiness also. + +After this Brahma summoned Vishnu and said to him: + +"Thou canst produce nothing better on earth, and since heaven is created +already by me, do thou rest and let those whom thou callest people weave +the thread of life for themselves unassisted." + +Vishnu obeyed this command, and henceforward men ordered their own lives. +From their good thoughts came joy, from their evil ones, sorrow; and they +saw soon with wonder that life was not an unbroken rejoicing, but that +with the life thread which Brahma had mentioned they wove out two webs as +it were with two faces,--on one of these was a smile; there were tears in +the eyes of the other. + +They went then to the throne of Vishnu and made complaint to him: + +"O Lord! life is grievous through sorrow." + +"Let Love give you happiness," said Vishnu in answer. + +At these words they went away quieted, for Love indeed scattered their +sorrows, which, in view of the happiness given, seemed so insignificant as +to be undeserving of notice. + +But Love is also the mighty mother of life, hence, though the region which +Vishnu ruled was enormous, it was soon insufficient for the myriads of +people; soon there was not fruit enough upon trees there, nor berries +enough upon bushes, nor honey enough from cliff bees. + +Thereupon all the men who were wisest fell to cutting down forests for the +clearing of land, for the sowing of seed, for the winning of harvests. + +Thus Labor appeared among people. Soon all had to turn to it, and labor +became not merely the basis of life, but life itself very nearly. + +But from Labor came Toil, and Toil produced Weariness. + +Great throngs of people appeared before Vishnu a second time. + +"O Lord!" exclaimed they, stretching their hands to him, "toil has +weakened our bodies, weariness spreads through our bones, we are yearning +for rest, but Life drives us always to labor." + +To this Vishnu answered: + +"The great and all mighty Brahma has not allowed me to shape Life any +further, but I am free to make that which will cause it to halt, and rest +will come then to you." + +And Vishnu made Sleep. + +Men received this new gift with rejoicing, and very soon saw in it one of +the greatest boons given by the deity thus far. In sleep vanished care and +vexation, during sleep strength returned to the weary; sleep, like a +cherishing mother, wiped away tears of sorrow and surrounded the heads of +the slumbering with oblivion. + +So people glorified sleep, and repeated: + +"Be blessed, for thou art far better than life in our waking hours." + +And they had one regret only, that it did not continue forever. After +sleep came awakening, and after awakening came labor with fresh toil and +weariness. + +This thought began soon to torture all men so sorely, that for the third +time they stood before Vishnu. + +"O Lord," said they, "thou hast given us a boon which, though great and +unspeakably precious, is incomplete as it now appears. Wilt thou grant us +that sleep be eternal?" + +Vishnu wrinkled his brows then in anger at this their insistence, and +answered: + +"I cannot give what ye ask of me, but go to the neighboring ford, and +beyond ye will find that for which ye are seeking." + +The people heard the god's voice and went on in legions immediately. They +went to the ford, and, halting there, gazed at the shore lying opposite. + +Beyond the clear, calm, and flower-bedecked surface stretched the Plain of +Death, or the Kingdom of Siva. + +The sun never rose and never set in that region; there was no day and no +night there, but the whole plain was of a lily-colored, absolute +clearness. No shadow fell in that region, for clearness inhered there so +thoroughly that it seemed the real essence of Siva's dominions. + +The region was not empty. As far as the eye could reach were seen heights +and valleys where beautiful trees stood in groups; on those trees rose +climbing plants, while ivy and grapevines were hanging from the cliff +sides. + +But the cliffs and the tree trunks and the slender plant stems were almost +transparent, as if formed out of light grown material. The leaves of the +ivy had in them a delicate roseate light as of dawn. And all was in +marvellous rest, such as none on the Plain of Life had experienced; all +was as if sunk in serene meditation, as if dreaming and resting in +continuous slumber, unthreatened by waking. + +In the clear air not the slightest breeze was discovered, not a flower was +seen moving, not a leaf showed a quiver. + +The people who had come to the shore with loud conversation and clamor +grew silent at sight of those lily-colored, motionless spaces, and +whispered: + +"What quiet! How everything rests there in clearness!" + +"Oh, yes, there is rest and unbroken repose in that region." + +So some, namely, those who were weariest, said after a silence: + +"Let us find the sleep which is surely unbroken." + +And they entered the water. The rainbow-hued surface opened straightway +before them, as if wishing to lighten the passage. Those who remained on +the shore began now to call after them, but no man turned his head, and +all hurried forward with willingness and lightly, attracted more and more +by the charm of that wonderful region. + +The throng which gazed from the shore of Life at them noted this also: +that as they moved forward their bodies grew gradually less heavy, +becoming transparent and purer, more radiant, and as it were blending with +that absolute clearness which filled the whole Plain of Death, Siva's +kingdom. + +And when they had passed and disposed themselves amid flowers and at trees +or the bases of cliffs, to repose there, their eyes were closed, but their +faces had on them not only an expression of ineffable peace, but also of +happiness such as Love itself on the Plain of Life had never given. + +Seeing this, those who had halted behind said one to another: + +"The region belonging to Siva is sweeter and better." + +And they began to pass to that shore in increasing numbers. There went in +solemn procession old men, and men in ripe years, and husbands and wives, +and mothers who led little children, and maidens, and youths, and then +thousands and millions of people pushed on toward that Calm Passage, till +at last the Plain of Life was depopulated almost entirely. + +Then Vishnu, whose task it was to keep life from extinction, was +frightened because of the advice which he had given in his anger, and not +knowing what to do else hastened quickly to Brahma. + +"Save Life, O Creator!" said he. "Behold, thou hast made the inheritance +of Death now so beautiful, so serene, and so blissful that all men are +leaving my kingdom." + +"Have none remained with thee there?" inquired Brahma. + +"Only one youth and one maiden, who are in love beyond measure; they +renounce endless bliss rather than close their eyes and gaze on each other +no longer." + +"What dost thou wish, then?" + +"Make the region of Death less delightful, less happy; if not, even those +two when their springtime of love shall be ended will leave me and follow +the others." + +Brahma thought for a moment and answered: + +"No! Oh no! I will not decrease beauty and happiness in the region of +Death, but I will do something for Life in its own realm. Henceforward +people will not pass to the other shore willingly, they must be forced to +it." + +When he had said this he made a thick veil out of darkness which no one +could see through, and next he created two terrible beings, one of these +he named Fear and the other one Pain. He commanded them then to hang that +black veil at the Passage. + +Thereafter Vishnu's kingdom was as crowded with life as it had been, for +though the region of Death was as calm, as serene, and as blissful as +ever, people dreaded the Passage. + + +[Illustration: SMALL CHAPEL ON THE SIENKIEWICZ ESTATE] + + + + +IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? + + +II + +IS HE THE DEAREST ONE? + + +In the distance a dark strip of pine wood was visible. In front of the +wood was a meadow, and amid fields of grain stood a cottage covered with a +straw roof and with moss. Birch trees hung their tresses above it. On a +fir tree stood a stork on its nest, and in a cherry garden were dark +beehives. + +Through an open gate a wanderer walked into the yard and said to the +mistress of the cottage, who was standing on its threshold: + +"Peace to this quiet house, to those trees, to the grain, to the whole +place, and to thee, mother!" + +The woman greeted him kindly, and added: + +"I will bring bread and milk to thee, wayfarer; but sit down the while and +rest, for it is clear that thou art coming back from a long journey." + +"I have wandered like that stork, and like a swallow; I come from afar, I +bring news from thy children." + +Her whole soul rushed to the eyes of that mother, and she asked the +wayfarer straightway: + +"Dost thou know of my Yasko?" + +"Dost thou love that son most that thou askest first about him? Well, one +son of thine is in forests, he works with his axe, he spreads his net in +lakes; another herds horses in the steppe, he sings plaintive songs and +looks at the stars; the third son climbs mountains, passes over naked +rocks and high pastures, spends the night with sheep and shouts at the +eagles. All bend down before thy knees and send thee greeting." + +"But Yasko?" asked the mother with an anxious face. + +"I keep sad news for the last. Life is going ill with Yasko: the field +does not give its fruit to him, poverty and hunger torment the man, his +days and months pass in suffering. Amid strangers and misery he has even +forgotten thy language; forget him, since he has no thought for thee." + +When he had finished, the woman took the man's hand, led him to her pantry +in the cottage, and, seizing a loaf from the shelf, she said: + +"Give this bread, O wayfarer, to Yasko!" + +Then she untied a small kerchief, took a bright silver coin from it, and +with trembling voice added: + +"I am not rich, but this too is for Yasko." + +"Woman!" said the wayfarer now with astonishment, "thou hast many sons, +but thou sendest gifts to only one of them. Dost thou love him more than +the others? Is he the dearest one?" + +She raised her great sad eyes, filled with tears, and answered: + +"My blessing is for them all, but my gifts are to Yasko, for I am a +mother, and he is my poorest son." + + + + +A LEGEND OF THE SEA + + +III + +A LEGEND OF THE SEA + + +There was a ship named "The Purple," so strong and so great that she +feared neither winds nor waves, even when they were raging most terribly. + +"The Purple" swept on, with every sail set, she rose upon each swelling +wave and crushed with her conquering prow hidden rocks on which other +ships foundered. She moved ever forward with sails which were gleaming in +sunlight, and moved with such swiftness that foam roared at her sides and +stretched out behind in a broad, endless road-streak. + +"That is a glorious craft," cried out crews on all other ships; "a man +might think that she sails just to punish the ocean." + +From time to time they called out to the crew of "The Purple": + +"Hei, men, to what port are ye sailing?" + +"To that port to which wind blows," said the men on "The Purple." + +"Have a care, there are rocks ahead! There are whirlpools!" + +In reply to this warning came back a song as loud as the wind was: + +"Let us sail on, let us sail ever joyously." + +Men on "The Purple" were gladsome. The crew, confiding in the strength of +their ship and the size of it, jeered at all perils. On other ships stern +discipline ruled, but on "The Purple" each man did what seemed good to +him. + +Life on that ship was one ceaseless holiday. The storms which she had +passed, the rocks which she had crushed, increased the crew's confidence. +"There are no reefs, there are no winds to wreck this ship," roared the +sailors. "Let a hurricane shiver the ocean, 'The Purple' will always sail +forward." + +And "The Purple" sailed; she was proud, she was splendid. + +Whole years passed--she was to all seeming invincible, she helped other +ships and took in on her deck drowning passengers. + +Blind faith increased every day in the breasts of the crew on "The +Purple." They grew slothful in good fortune and forgot their own art, they +forgot how to navigate. "Our 'Purple' will sail herself," said they. "Why +toil, why watch the ship, why pull at rudder, masts, sails, and ropes? Why +live by hard work and the sweat of our brows, when our ship is divine, +indestructible? Let us sail on, let us sail joyously." + +And they sailed for a very long period. At last, after years, the crew +became utterly effeminate, they forgot every duty, and no man of them +knew that that ship was decaying. Bitter water had weakened the spars, the +strong rigging had loosened, waves without number had shattered the +gunwales, dry rot was at work in the mainmast, the sails had grown weak +through exposure. + +The voice of sound sense was heard now despite every madness: + +"Be careful!" cried some of the sailors. + +"Never mind! We will sail with the current," cried out the majority. But +once such a storm came that to that hour its like had not been on the +water. The wind whirled ocean and clouds into one hellish chaos. Pillars +of water rose up and flew then with roars at "The Purple"; they were +raging and bellowing dreadfully. They fell on the ship, they drove her +down to the bottom, they hurled her up to the clouds, then cast her down +again. The weak rigging snapped, and now a quick cry of despair was heard +on the deck of that vessel. + +"'The Purple' is sinking!" + +"The Purple" was really sinking, while the crew, unaccustomed to work and +to navigate, knew not how to save her. + +But when the first moment of terror had passed, rage boiled up in their +hearts, for those mariners still loved that ship of theirs. + +All sprang up speedily, some rushed to fire cannon-balls at the winds and +foaming water, others seized what each man could find near him and flogged +that sea which was drowning "The Purple." + +Great was that fight of despair against the elements. But the waves had +more strength than the mariners. The guns filled with water and then they +were silent. Gigantic whirls seized struggling sailors and swept them out +into watery chaos. + +The crew decreased every minute, but they struggled on yet. Covered with +water, half-blinded, concealed by a mountain of foam, they fought till +they dropped in the battle. + +Strength left them, but after brief rest they sprang again to the +struggle. + +At last their hands fell. They felt that death was approaching. Dull +despair seized them. Those sailors looked at one another as if demented. + +Now those same voices which had warned previously of danger were raised +again, and more powerfully, so powerfully this time that the roar of the +waves could not drown them. + +Those voices said: + +"O blind men! How can ye cannonade wind, or flog waves? Mend your vessel! +Go to the hold. Work there. The ship 'Purple' is afloat yet." + +At these words those mariners, half-dead already, recovered, all rushed to +the hold and began then to work in it. And they worked from morning till +night in the sweat of their brows and with effort, seeking thus to +retrieve their past sloth and their blindness. + + + + +THE CRANES + + +IV + +THE CRANES + + +Homesickness (nostalgia) tortures mainly people who for various reasons +are utterly unable to return to their own country, but even those for whom +return is merely a question of will power feel its attacks sometimes. The +cause may be anything: a sunrise or a sunset which calls to mind a dawn or +an evening at home, some note of a foreign song in which the rhythm of +one's own country is heard, some group of trees which call to mind +remotely the native village--anything suffices! + +At such moments an immense, irresistible sadness seizes hold on the heart, +and immediately a feeling comes to a man that he is, as it were, a leaf +torn away from a distant but beloved tree. And in such moments the man is +forced to return, or, if he has imagination, he is driven to create. + +Once--a good many years back--I was sojourning on the shore of the Pacific +Ocean in a place called Anaheim Landing. My society was made up of some +sailor fishermen, Norwegians for the greater part, and a German, who gave +food to those fishermen and lodged them. Their days were passed on the +water; every evening they amused themselves with poker, a game at cards +which years ago was common in all the dramshops of America, long before +fashionable ladies in Europe began to play it. I was quite alone, and my +time passed in wandering with a gun over the open plain or along the shore +of the Pacific. I visited the sandbanks which a small river made as with a +broad mouth it entered the ocean; I waded in the shallow waters of this +river, noted its unknown fishes, its shells, and looked at the great +sea-lions which sunned themselves on a number of rocks at the river mouth. +Opposite was a small sandy island swarming with mews, pelicans, and +albatrosses; a real and populous bird commonwealth, filled with cries and +uproar. + +At times, when the day was calm, and when amid silence the surface of the +water took on a tinge almost violet, changing into gold, I sat in a boat +and rowed toward the little island, on which pelicans, unused to the sight +of man, looked at me less with fear than astonishment, as if wishing to +ask, "What sort of seal is this that we have not seen till to-day?" +Frequently I looked from that bank at sunsets which were simply +marvellous; they changed the whole horizon into one sea, gleaming with +gold, fire, and opal, which, passing into a brilliant purple, faded +gradually until the moon shone on the amethyst background of the heavens, +and the wonderful semi-tropical night had embraced the earth and the sky. +The empty land, the endlessness of the ocean, and the excess of light +disposed me somewhat toward mysticism. I became pantheistic, and had the +feeling that everything surrounding me formed a certain single great soul +which appears as the ocean, the sky, the plain, or diminishes into such +small living existences as birds, fish, shells, or broom on the ocean +shore. At times I thought also that those sand-hills and empty banks might +be inhabited by invisible beings like the ancient Greek fauns, nymphs, or +naiads. A man does not believe in such things when he turns to his own +reason; but involuntarily he admits that they are possible when he lives +only with Nature and in perfect seclusion. Life changes then, as it were, +into a drowsiness in which visions are more powerful than thought. As for +me, I was conscious only of that boundless calm which surrounded me, and I +felt that it was pleasant to be in it. At times I thought of future +"letters about my journey"; at times, too, I, as a young man, thought also +of "her," the unknown whom I should meet and love some time. In that +relaxation of thought, and on that empty, clear ocean shore, amid those +uncompleted ideas, undescribed desires, in that half dream, in +semi-consciousness, I was happier than ever in life before. But on a +certain evening I sat long on the little island and returned to the shore +after nightfall. The flowing tide brought me in--I scarcely had need to +lift an oar then. In other regions the flow of the tide is tempestuous, +but in that land of eternal good weather waves touch the sand shore with +gentleness; the ocean does not strike land with an outburst. Such silence +surrounded me that a quarter of a mile from the shore line I could have +heard the conversation of men. But that shore was unoccupied. I heard only +the squeak of the oars on my boat and the low plash of water moved by +them. + +Just then, from above, certain piercing cries reached me. I raised my +head, but on the dark background of the sky I could discern nothing. When +the cries were heard a second time, directly above, I recognized in them +the voices of cranes. + +Evidently a whole flock of cranes was flying somewhere above my head +toward the island of Santa Catalina. But I remembered that I had heard +cries like those more than once, when as a boy I journeyed from school for +vacation--and straightway a mighty homesickness seized hold of me. I +returned to the little room which I had hired in the cabin of the German, +but could not sleep. Pictures of my country passed then before my mind: +now a pine forest, now broad fields with pear trees on the boundaries, +now pleasant cottages, now village churches, now white mansions surrounded +by dense orchards. I yearned for such scenes all that night. + + +[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE HOUSE FROM THE POND ON THE SIENKIEWICZ +ESTATE] + + +I went out next morning, as usual, to the sand-banks. I felt that the +ocean and the sky, and the sand mounds on the shore, and the plains, and +the cliffs on which seals were basking in the sunlight, were things to me +absolutely foreign, things with which I had nothing in common, as they had +nothing in common with me. + +Only yesterday I had wandered about in that neighborhood and had judged +that my pulse was beating in answer to the pulse of that immense +universe; to-day I put to myself this question: What have I to do here; +why do I not go back to my birthplace? The feeling of harmony and +sweetness in life had vanished, leaving nothing behind it. Time, which +before had seemed so quiet and soothing, which was measured by the ebb and +flow of the ocean, now seemed unendurably tedious. I began to think of my +own land, of that which had remained in it, and that which had changed +with time's passage. + +America and my journey ceased altogether to interest me, and immediately +there swarmed in my head a throng of visions ever denser and denser, +composed wholly of memories. I could not tear myself free from them, +though they brought no delight to me. On the contrary, there was in those +memories much sadness, and even suffering, which rose from comparing our +sleepy and helpless country life with the bustling activity of America. +But the more our life seemed to me helpless and sleepy, the more it +mastered my soul, the dearer it grew to me, and the more I longed for it. +During succeeding days the visions grew still more definite, and at last +imagination began to develop, to arrange, to bring clearness and order +into one artistic plan. I began to create my own world. + +A week later, on a certain night when the Norwegians went out on the +ocean, I sat down in my little room and from under my pen flowed the +following words: "In Barania Glova, in the chancellery of the village +mayor, it was as calm as in time of sowing poppy seed." + +And thus, because cranes flew over the shore of the Pacific, I composed +"Charcoal Sketches." + + + + +THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS + + +V + +THE JUDGMENT OF PETER AND PAUL ON OLYMPUS + +A POEM IN PROSE + + +It was a night of spring, calm, silvery, and fragrant with dewy jasmine. +The full moon was sailing above Olympus, and on the glittering, snowy +summit of the mountain it shone with a clear, pensive, greenish light. +Farther down in the Vale of Tempe was a dark thicket of thorn-bushes, +shaken by the songs of nightingales--by entreaties, by complaints, by +calls, by allurements, by languor, by sighs. These sounds flowed like the +music of flutes, filling the night; they fell like a pouring rain, and +rushed on like rivers. At moments they ceased; then such silence followed +that one might almost hear the snow thawing on the heights under the warm +breath of May. It was an ambrosial night. + +On that night came Peter and Paul, and sat on the highest grassmound of +the slope to pass judgment on the gods of antiquity. The heads of the +Apostles were encircled by halos, which illuminated their gray hair, stern +brows, and severe eyes. Below, in the deep shade of beeches, stood the +assembly of gods, abandoned and in dread, awaiting their sentence. + +Peter motioned with his hand, and at the sign Zeus stepped forth first +from the assembly and approached the Apostles. The Cloud-Compeller was +still mighty, and as huge as if cut out of marble by Phidias, but weakened +and gloomy. His old eagle dragged along at his feet with broken wing, and +the blue thunderbolt, grown reddish in places from rust, and partly +quenched, seemed to be slipping from the stiffening right hand of the +former father of gods and men. But when he stood before the Apostles the +feeling of ancient supremacy filled his broad breast. He raised his head +haughtily, and fixed on the face of the aged fisherman of Galilee his +proud and glittering eyes, which were as angry and as terrible as +lightnings. + +Olympus, accustomed to tremble before its ruler, shook to its foundations. +The beeches quivered with fear, the song of the nightingales ceased, and +the moon sailing above the snows grew as white as the linen web of +Arachne. The eagle screamed through his crooked beak for the last time, +and the lightning, as if animated by its ancient force, flashed and began +to roar terribly at the feet of its master; it reared, hissed, snapped, +and raised its three-cornered, flaming forehead, like a serpent ready to +stab with poisonous fang. But Peter pressed the fiery bolts with his foot +and crushed them to the earth. Turning then to the Cloud-Compeller, he +pronounced this sentence: "Thou art cursed and condemned through all +eternity." At once Zeus was extinguished. Growing pale in the twinkle of +an eye, he whispered, with blackening lips, "[Greek: Anagke]" +("Necessity"), and vanished through the earth. + +Poseidon of the dark curls next stood before the Apostles, with night in +his eyes, and in his hand the blunted trident. To him then spoke Peter: + +"It is not thou who wilt rouse the billows. It is not thou who wilt lead +the storm-tossed ships to a quiet haven, but she who is called the 'Star +of the Sea.'" + +When Poseidon heard this he screamed, as if pierced with sudden pain, and +turned into vanishing mist. + +Next rose Apollo, the Silver-bowed, with a hollow lute in his hand, and +walked toward the holy men. Behind him moved slowly the nine Muses, +looking like nine white pillars. Terror-stricken, they stood before the +judgment-seat, as if petrified, breathless, and without hope; but the +radiant Apollo turned to Paul, and, in a voice which resembled wondrous +music, said: + +"Slay me not! Protect me, lord; for shouldst thou slay me, thou wouldst +have to restore me to life again. I am the blossom of the soul of +humanity; I am its gladness; I am light; I am the yearning for God. Thou +knowest best that the song of earth will not reach heaven if thou break +its wings. Hence I implore thee, O saint, not to smite down Song." + +A moment of silence came. Peter raised his eyes toward the stars. Paul +placed his hands on his sword-hilt, rested his forehead on them, and for a +time fell into deep thought. At last he rose, made the sign of the cross +calmly above the radiant head of the god, and said: + +"Let Song live!" + +Apollo sat down with his lute at the feet of the Apostle. The night became +clearer, the jasmine gave out a stronger perfume, the glad fountains +sounded, the Muses gathered together like a flock of white swans, and, +with voices still quivering from fear, began to sing in low tones +marvellous words never heard on the heights of Olympus till that hour: + + To thy protection we flee, holy Mother of God. + We come with our prayers; deign thou not to reject us, + But be pleased to preserve us from every evil, + O thou, our Lady! + +Thus they sang on the heather, raising their eyes like pious nuns with +heads covered with white. + +Other gods came now. Bacchus and his chorus dashed past, wild, +unrestrained, crowned with ivy and grapevine, and bearing the cithara and +the thyrsus. They rushed on madly, with shouts of despair, and fell into +the bottomless pit. + +Then before the Apostles stood a lofty, proud, sarcastic divinity, who, +without waiting for question or sentence, spoke first. On her lips was a +smile of derision. + +"I am Pallas Athene. I do not beg life of you. I am an illusion, nothing +more. Odysseus honored and obeyed me only when he had become senile. +Telemachus listened to me only till hair covered his chin. Ye cannot take +immortality from me, and I declare that I have been a shadow, that I am a +shadow now, and shall remain a shadow forever." + +At last her turn came to the most beautiful, the most honored goddess. As +she approached, sweet, marvellous, tearful, the heart under her snow-white +breast beat like the heart in a bird, and her lips quivered like those of +a child that fears cruel punishment. She fell at their feet, and, +stretching forth her divine arms, cried in fear and humility: + +"I am sinful, I deserve blame, but I am Joy. Have mercy, forgive; I am the +one happiness of mankind." Then sobbing and fear took away her voice. + +But Peter looked at the goddess with compassion, and placed his aged palm +on her golden hair, while Paul, bending toward a cluster of white +field-lilies, broke off one blossom, and touching her with it, said: + +"Joy, be henceforth like this flower, and live thou for mankind." + +Then came dawn--the divine dawn that looked out from beyond a depression +between two peaks. The nightingales stopped singing, and immediately +finches, linnets, and wrens began to draw their sleepy little heads from +under their moistened wings, shaking the dew from their feathers, and +repeating in low voices, "_Svit! svit!_" ("Light! light!"). + +The earth awoke, smiled, and was delighted, because Song and Joy had not +been taken from it. + + + + +_THE ZAGLOBA ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated from the Polish by +Jeremiah Curtin._ + + +WITH FIRE AND SWORD + +An Historical Novel of Poland and Russia. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +The first of the famous trilogy of historical romances of Poland, Russia, +and Sweden. Their publication has been received as an event in literature. +Charles Dudley Warner, in _Harper's Magazine_, affirms that the Polish +author has in Zagloba _given a new creation to literature_. + +_A capital story._ The only modern romance with which it can be compared +for fire, sprightliness, rapidity of action, swift changes, and absorbing +interest is "The Three Musketeers" of Dumas.--_New York Tribune._ + + +THE DELUGE + +An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. A Sequel to "With Fire +and Sword." With map. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. $3.00. + +Marvellous in its grand descriptions.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + +Has the humor of a Cervantes and the grim vigor of Defoe.--_Boston +Gazette._ + + +PAN MICHAEL + +An Historical Novel of Poland, Russia, and the Ukraine. A Sequel to "With +Fire and Sword" and "The Deluge." Crown 8vo. $1.50. + + +The interest of the trilogy, both historical and romantic, is splendidly +sustained.--_The Dial_, Chicago. + + +QUO VADIS + +A Narrative of the Time of Nero. By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. Translated from +the Polish by JEREMIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +One of the greatest books of our day.--_The Bookman._ + +The book is like a grand historical pageant.--_Literary World._ + +Of intense interest to the whole Christian civilization.--_Chicago +Tribune._ + +Interest never wanes; and the story is carried through its many phases of +conflict and terror to a climax that enthralls.--_Chicago Record._ + +As a study of the introduction of the gospel of love into the pagan world +typified by Rome, it is marvellously fine.--_Chicago Interior._ + +The picture here given of life in Rome under the last of the Caesars is one +of unparalleled power and vividness.--_Boston Home Journal._ + +One of the most remarkable books of the decade. It burns upon the brain +the struggles and triumphs of the early church.--_Boston Daily +Advertiser._ + +It will become recognized by virtue of its own merits as the one heroic +monument built by the modern novelist above the ruins of decadent Rome, +and in honor of the blessed martyrs of the early Church.--_Brooklyn +Eagle._ + +Our debt to Sienkiewicz is not less than our debt to his translator and +friend, Jeremiah Curtin. The diversity of the language, the rapid flow of +thought, the picturesque imagery of the descriptions are all his.--_Boston +Transcript._ + + +THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS + +An Historical Romance of Poland and Germany. By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. +Translated from the Polish by JEREMIAH CURTIN. Illustrated. 2 vols. Crown +8vo. $2.00. + +The greatest work Sienkiewicz has given us.--_Buffalo Express._ + +It seems superior even to "Quo Vadis" in strength and realism.--_The +Churchman._ + +The construction of the story is beyond praise. It is difficult to +conceive of any one who will not pick the book up with +eagerness.--_Chicago Evening Post._ + +There are some scenes in the book that for power and excitement remind one +of the great encounter between Ursus and the bull in "Quo +Vadis."--_Minneapolis Tribune._ + +Vivid, dramatic, and vigorous.... His imaginative power, his command of +language, and the picturesque scenes he sets combine to fascinate the +reader.--_Philadelphia Bulletin._ + +A book that holds your almost breathless attention as in a vise from the +very beginning, for in it love and strife, the most thrilling of all +worldly subjects, are described masterfully.--_The Boston Journal._ + +Another remarkable book. His descriptions are tremendously effective; one +can almost hear the sound of the carnage; to the mind's eye the scene of +battle is unfolded by a master artist.--_The Hartford Courant._ + +Thrillingly dramatic, full of strange local color and very faithful to its +period, besides having that sense of the mysterious and weird that throbs +in the Polish blood and infects alike their music and literature.--_The +St. Paul Globe._ + + + + +_OTHER NOVELS AND ROMANCES by Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated from the +Polish by Jeremiah Curtin._ + + +CHILDREN OF THE SOIL + +Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +It must be reckoned among the finer fictions of our time, and shows its +author to be almost as great a master in the field of the domestic novel +as he had previously been shown to be in that of imaginative historical +romances.--_The Dial_, Chicago. + + +HANIA, AND OTHER STORIES + +With portrait. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +At the highest level of the author's genius.--_The Outlook._ + + +SIELANKA, A FOREST PICTURE + +And Other Stories. With frontispiece. Crown 8vo. $1.50. + +They exhibit the masterly genius of Sienkiewicz even better than his +longer romances. They abound in fine character-drawings and beautiful +descriptions.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + + +LIFE AND DEATH AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES + +Illustrated. 16mo. Decorated cloth, $1.00. + + +WITHOUT DOGMA + +A Novel of Modern Poland. (Translated from the Polish by Iza Young.) Crown +8vo. $1.50. + +A human document read in the light of a great imagination.--_Boston +Beacon._ + + +LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS + +BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. + +The original text includes Greek characters. For this text version these +letters have been replaced with transliterations. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life and Death, by Henryk Sienkiewicz + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE AND DEATH *** + +***** This file should be named 35736.txt or 35736.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/7/3/35736/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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