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+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
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