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diff --git a/41490-8.txt b/41490-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4b02466..0000000 --- a/41490-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1559 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Decadent, by Ralph Adams Cram - -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: The Decadent - Being the Gospel of Inaction - -Author: Ralph Adams Cram - -Release Date: November 26, 2012 [EBook #41490] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DECADENT *** - - - - -Produced by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy -of the Digital Library@Villanova University -(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) - - - - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE DECADENT: BEING THE GOSPEL - OF INACTION: WHEREIN ARE - SET FORTH IN ROMANCE FORM - CERTAIN REFLECTIONS TOUCHING - THE CURIOUS CHARACTERISTICS - OF THESE ULTIMATE YEARS, AND - THE DIVERS CAUSES THEREOF. - -[Illustration] - - PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR - THE AUTHOR MDCCCXCIII - - - - - TIBI · MEO · CARO · B · G · G · - CVIVS · LABORIBVS · PRETIVM · NON · PROPRIVM · EI · FIEBAT· - OPERA · TVA · EXARCHO · FRATRIBVSQVE · - EIVS · ORDINIS · QVAE · SVMNIA · SIBI · FINGIT · - DENIQVE · OMNIBVS · DELECTIS · PER · ORBEM · TERRARVM · - HVNC · LIBRVM · GRATE · DICO · - - - - -THE DECADENT. - - - - -I. - - -The 3.20 train from Boston slowed up as it drew into a way station, and -Malcolm McCann, grim and sullen from his weary ride in the dirt and -cinders, the coal-smoke and the foetid air, the fretting babies and hot, -worrying men, that characterise a railway journey in August, hurried out -with a grunt of relief. - -It was not a pretty station where he found himself, and he glared -ill-naturedly around with restless, aggressive eyes. The brick walls, -the cheaply grained doors bearing their tarnished legends, "Gents," -"Ladies," "Refreshment Saloon," the rough raftered roof over the -tracks,--everything was black and grimy with years of smoke, belching -even now from the big locomotive, and gathering like an ill-conditioned -thunder-cloud over the mob of scurrying, pushing men and women, a mob -that swelled and scattered constantly in fretful confusion. A hustling -business-man with a fat, pink face and long sandy whiskers, his silk hat -cocked on one side in grotesque assumption of jauntiness, tripped over -the clay-covered pick of a surly labourer, red of face and sweaty, blue -of overalls and mud-coloured of shirt, and as he stumbled over the -annoying implement scowled coarsely, and swore, with his cigar between -his teeth. - -Ragged and grimy children, hardly old enough to walk, sprawled and -scrambled on the dirty platform, and as McCann hurried by, a five-year -old cursed shrilly a still more youthful little tough, who answered in -kind. Vulgar theatre-bills in rank reds and yellows flaunted on the -cindery walls; discarded newspapers, banana-skins, cigar-butts, and -saliva were ground together vilely under foot by the scuffling mob. -Dirt, meanness, ugliness everywhere,--in the unhappy people no less than -in their surroundings. - -McCann strode scornfully to the rear of the station and looked vaguely -around to see if Aurelian had sent any kind of a conveyance to take him -to his home,--of the location of which, save that it was to be reached -from this particular station, McCann knew nothing. The prospect was not -much better outside than in. The air was thick with fine white dust, and -dazzling with fierce sunlight. On one side was a wall of brick -tenements, with liquor saloons, cheap groceries, and a fish-market -below, all adding their mite to the virulence of the dead, stifling air. -Above, men in dirty shirt-sleeves lolled out of the grimy windows, where -long festoons of half-washed clothes drooped sordidly. On the other -side, gangs of workmen were hurriedly repairing the ravages of a fire -that evidently had swept clear a large space in its well-meant but -ineffectual attempts at purgation. Gaunt black chimneys wound with -writhing gas-pipes, tottering fragments of wall blistered white on one -side, piles of crumbling bricks where men worked sullenly loading blue -carts, mingled with new work, where the walls, girdled with yellow -scaffolding, were rising higher, uglier, than before; the plain factory -walls with their rows of square windows less hideous by far than those -buildings where some ignorant contractor was trying by the aid of -galvanised iron to produce an effect of tawdry, lying magnificence. -Dump-carts, market-waggons, shabby hacks, crawled or scurried along in -the hot dust. A huge dray loaded with iron bars jolted over the granite -pavement with a clanging, clattering din that was maddening. In fact, -none of the adjuncts of a thriving, progressive town were absent, so far -as one could see. - -McCann turned away from this spectacle of humiliating prosperity, and -ran his eyes over the vehicles about the station, searching for some -indication of his friend. He had thought that perhaps Aurelian might -come himself; but he saw no sign of a familiar figure, no indication -even of any conveyance that might belong to Aurelian Blake. The greater -part of the carriages had gone, and now only remained an express-waggon -or two, a decrepit old hack, an old-fashioned chaise, one or two -nondescript country conveyances, and a particularly gorgeous victoria, -drawn by a pair of splendid grey horses, a liveried driver sitting on -the box in Ethiopian state. None of these vehicles could possibly belong -to the fastidious but democratic Aurelian, and McCann almost thought -his telegram must have miscarried. - -A black footman in fawn-coloured livery, wearing a small cockade of -scarlet and silver, touched his hat to the sulky traveller. - -"Beg yo pahdon, suh, but ah yo Mistuh McCann, Mistuh Malcolm McCann, of -Boston, suh?" - -"That is my name," said McCann, shortly. - -"I have the honnoh to be Mistuh Blake's footman, suh," and he touched -the cockade in his hat again. "Will yo have the kindness to follow me, -suh?" - -There was a touch of servile imperiousness in the voice, and McCann -followed in bewildered surprise. "Aurelian Blake's footman"--that did -not sound well. Could his pupil have become a backslider in the last two -years? "Aurelian Blake's footman"--the idea was surprising in itself; -but the fact of the big victoria with its luxurious trappings where he -soon found himself being whirled swiftly on through the screaming, -clattering city was more surprising still, and not a little disquieting. - -The carriage threaded its way through the roaring crowd of vehicles, -passing the business part of the city, and entering a tract given over -to factories, hideous blocks of barren brick and shabby clapboards, -through the open windows of which came the brain-killing whir of heavy -machinery, and hot puffs of oily air. Here and there would be small -areas between the buildings where foul streams of waste from some -factory of cheap calico would mingle dirtily with pools of green, -stagnant water, the edges barred with stripes of horrible pinks and -purples where the water had dried under the fierce sun. All around lay -piles of refuse,--iron hoops, broken bottles, barrels, cans, old leather -stewing and fuming in the dead heat, and everywhere escape-pipes -vomiting steam in spurts. Over it all was the roar of industrial -civilisation. McCann cast a pitying look at the pale, dispirited figures -passing languidly to and fro in the midst of the din and the foul air, -and set his teeth closely. - -Presently they entered that part of the city where live the poor, they -who work in the mills, when they are not on strike, or the mills are not -shut down,--as barren of trees or grass as the centre of the city, the -baked grey earth trodden hard between the crowded tenements painted -lifeless greys, as dead in colour as the clay about them. Children and -goats crawled starvedly around or huddled in the hot shadow of the sides -of the houses. This passed, and then came the circle of "suburban -residences," as crowded almost as the tottering tenements, but with -green grass around them. Frightful spectacles these,--"Queen Anne" and -colonial vagaries painted lurid colours, and frantic in their cheap -elaboration. Between two affected little cottages painted orange and -green and with round towers on their corners, stood a new six-story -apartment-house with vulgar front of brown stone, "Romanesque" in style, -but with long flat sides of cheap brick. McCann caught the name on the -big white board that announced "Suites to let," "Hotel Plantagenet," and -grinned savagely. - -Then, at last, even this region of speculative horrors came to an end, -giving place to a wide country road that grew more and more beautiful as -they left the town far behind. McCann's eyebrows were knotted in a -scowl. The ghastly nonsense, like a horrible practical joke, that the -city had been to him, excited, as it always did, all the antagonism -within his rebellious nature. Slowly and grimly he said to himself, yet -half aloud, in a tone of deliberation, as though he were cursing -solemnly the town he had left: "I hope from my soul that I may live to -see the day when that damned city will be a desolate wilderness; when -those chimneys shall rise smokeless; when those streets shall be stony -valleys between grisly ridges of fallen brick; when Nature itself shall -shrink from repairing the evil that man has wrought; when the wild birds -shall sweep widely around that desolation that they may not pass above; -when only rats and small snakes shall crawl through the ruin of that -'thriving commercial and manufacturing metropolis;' when the very name -it bore in the days of its dirty glory shall have become a synonym for -horror and despair!" Having thus relieved himself he laughed softly, and -felt better. - -Presently a flash of recollection passed over his face, and he eagerly -dropped his hand into a side pocket, pulling therefrom a brierwood pipe, -discovered with a sigh of satisfaction that a sweet heel of "Dills -Best" still lurked in the bottom of the bowl, and, regardless of the -amazement of the immaculate footman, lighted it, and sank back in the -cushions, well content. As he smoked, his thoughts went back to Aurelian -with some uneasiness. "I am afraid he is a backslider," he mused -seriously. "Now, when I went over to England a couple of years ago, he -was a good socialist, the best pupil I ever had. He would rail at the -world in good set terms, better than I myself. And now he runs a trap -like this, with a coon slave for a driver and a footman beside him. Now, -I _can't_ lose a man like that; he was a born leader of men, when -leaders are what we lack. Besides, he had a lot of money, and we need -money as badly as we need leaders. I must get him back some way, if gone -he is; and I very much expect bad news from the boy when I get to--Now, -what did he call his place?" he pulled a letter from his pocket, shaking -tobacco ashes out of its folds. "Oh, yes, 'Vita Nuova.' Now, why the -devil did he name his place that?" - -The stubby pipe sucked and sputtered, and McCann knocked the ashes into -the road. They had driven already nearly an hour, and he was growing -impatient; "how much farther had they to go?" He asked the coachman, who -only replied, "Just a fractional bit further, suh," which was -indefinite. They left the highway and struck into a hilly road where the -hedgerows grew thick on either side, with rough pastures beyond, on the -one hand, and on the other thick and ancient pine forests, where the -low sunlight struck under the sighing branches and rested on mossy -boulders and level patches of golden ferns. Now and then a grey -farmhouse appeared in its orchard, and once they passed a dingy white -meeting-house, with pointed wooden spikes on the four corners of its -belfry, its green blinds faded a sickly yellow. Just beyond they met the -country milk-team with its cantering horses and clattering cans, the -driver nodding on his seat, with a watchful collie beside him. Then the -pastures on the right ended, and they plunged into deep forests, black, -almost lightless, where the road wound like the bed of a dry torrent in -a vast green cañon. The carriage climbed steeply up the rocky road, with -no sound around but the rattle of pebbles under the feet of the horses, -and the melancholy calling of the wood thrushes. On the crown of the -hill heavy wrought-iron gates closed their passage, gates that swung -back slowly as the footman whistled twice. They passed through, turned -sharply to the left, and in a flash were out of the forest. - -Malcolm McCann had not a very keen sense of beauty, but even to him the -vision that lay before him startled him into sudden enthusiasm. They -were riding along the comb of a ridge of high hills thick with ink-black -pine forests to the left, while to the right they swept down in gracious -undulations into a basin-shaped valley, the level floor of which was, it -may be, something over a thousand acres in extent, shaped like an -elongated ellipse, with lofty hills rising on all sides. - -The sun dropped down and lay on the edge of the world; from the farther -side of the valley it poured a suave, golden glory of molten light down -over the purple, serrated hills, that lay in the valley like amber wine. -Smooth fields of ripening grain and velvet meadow-land chequered the -valley irregularly, slim elms and dark, heavy oaks rising among them. In -the midst, curling like level smoke, wound a narrow river with black -poplars and golden chestnut-trees leaning above. In all the valley was -no sign of a dwelling save far away at the distant end, where from the -midst of thick foliage rose dark roofs and towers and chimneys, as of -some château on the Loire. - -McCann caught his breath. "Is that the place?" he said quickly. - -"Suh, that is Vita Nuova," answered the footman. - - - - -II. - - -"This," said Eveleth, languidly, turning his head in the valley of -silken pillows until he could see the long figure of Aurelian drooping -in the Mexican hammock across the big room through the dim strata of -blue smoke that, in the silence, lay almost motionless, swirled now and -then into subtle curlings and windings as some drowsy smoker breathed -more white vapour into the slowly moving and rising tide,--"This is the -peace of the land of Proserpina, the faultless content of perfect -possession. Philistinism is not without honour, for behold! it has -conceived and brought forth--the Decadence." - - "_Non sentir m'e gran ventura - Porò non mi distar: deh! parla basso!_" - -said Aurelian, softly. "It is only a dream after all, even a dream of -the land of endless afternoon. There is lotos mingled with the tobacco, -but we wake easily." - -A deeper voice came from a motionless figure prone on a tiger skin -before the crumbling fire. "Opium and Burgundy are not faultless -substitutes for the true lotos after all, but--they do very well--for -the time." - -Murmurs of inarticulate assent rose and faded in the opium-heavy air, -and then the smoke grew still again. Now and then a bit of wood fell in -the fireplace. Aurelian's narghileh gurgled and sighed in slow cadence. -These things were only a modulation of the silence. - -The room was vast and dim, seemingly without bounds, save on that side -where the violet flames of a drift-wood fire flickered quiveringly, -making a centre, a concentration of dull light; for the rest, a -mysterious wilderness of rugs and divans, Indian chairs and hammocks, -where silent figures lay darkly, each a primal cause of one of the many -thin streams of smoke that curled heavily upward;--smoke from strange -and curious pipes from Lahore and Gualior; small sensitive pipes from -Japan; here and there the short thick stems of opium-pipes, and by the -motionless Mexican hammock a splendid and wonderful hookah with writhing -stem. As the thin flames of the dying fire flashed into some sudden -brightness, they revealed details unseen in the general gloom,--a vast -and precious missal gorgeous with scarlet and gold and purple -illumination, open, on a carved oak lectern, spoil of some Spanish -monastery; the golden gloom of a Giovanni Bellini reft from its home in -Venice, and as yet unransomed; the glint of twisted and gilded glass in -an ebony cabinet; great folios and quartos in ancient bindings of vellum -and ivory and old calf-skin, heavily tooled with gold, and with silver -and jewelled medallions and clasps, stacked in heaps in careless -indifference; the flash and sparkle of a cabinet of gems, the red -splendour of old lacquer; the green mystery of wrought jade. And -everywhere a heavy atmosphere that lay on the chest like a strange yet -desirable dream; the warm, sick odour of tobacco and opium, striving -with the perfume of sandal-wood, and of roses that drooped and fluttered -in pieces in the hot air. - -Around a brazier of green bronze, on the floor, before the fire, lay the -three men who were gently breathing in the bland opium, their dark -figures radiating from the queer brazier wrought of two ugly dragons -chasing each other around a great globe of Japanese chrystal, the -firelight gleaming on the tall glasses of champagne where the little -column of gold bubbles rose steadily. The fire fell together, and a -leaping flame cast a fitful light on heavy tapestry curtains wrought -with the story of the loves of Cupid and Psyche. Its two halves parted -slowly, and a flush of red light fell through as, in the midst, appeared -a dark figure with closed eyes, swaying softly as it leaned forward, -and, while the curtains closed, fell with a long sweep gently toward the -brazier,--not as men fall, but as a snake with its head lifted high -might advance slidingly, and as it came, droop lower and lower until it -rested prone on the uncrushed flowers. So Enderby, heavy with the suave -sleep of haschish, came among the smokers and dropped motionless in the -midst of the cushions. The movement set a tall glass quivering until it -fell to one side, and the yellow wine sank slowly into the silky fur of -a leopard skin. - -Aurelian lifted his hand to a gold cord that hung over the hammock. -Presently a slim girl with flesh like firelight on ivory, clad in -translucent silk of a dusky purple that made no sound as she came, -appeared in the darkness of the farther doorway. She came to the hammock -where Aurelian was lying. - -"Will the honourable master be served with the august saké?" she asked -with a voice that was like the fluttering of cherry blossoms in -Yoshiwara. - -"No, O Shiratsuyu," said Aurelian, drawing the slim figure toward him, -kissing the scarlet mouth that drooped above as he lay full length, -looking sleepily upward. "No, O Shiratsuyu, but fill the glasses of the -honourable guests with the wine, there on the table." - -The girl glided among the drowsy figures, filling the glasses. As she -knelt by the brazier to lift the overturned glass, her slim fingers -lingered; a head turned sleepily, and, as the lips fell on the little -hand, kissed it softly. - -At a movement of Aurelian's eyes the girl vanished. - -Eveleth half rose to look after her with delight. "Where did you find -that bauble, Aurelian?" he said. - -Aurelian neither moved nor opened his eyes as he replied, "In Kioto." - -"She is more precious than your Delhi topaz." - -"She cost me more." - -"What is she called?" - -"The Honourable White Dew." - -"I have never seen her before." - -"Nor any other than myself." - -"I think she is a dream." - -"No, only part of a dream." - -"How long will the dream last?" - -"Until dawn." - -"What is the dawn?" - -"Death." - -The word roused ungracious thoughts in Eveleth, and he turned his face -to the wall, falling into a half dream. When next he looked toward his -host it was at the instigation of low voices. A servant was standing by -the hammock,--not the mysterious Japanese girl, but a black boy in a red -fez. Aurelian looked toward Eveleth sleepily. - -"One is without and craves entrance," said he. "What shall I say to him? -He has come as my guest; shall I receive him here?" - -"Is he an 'Elect'?" - -"No, he is not an 'Elect.'" - -"A Philistine then." - -"Neither a Philistine, wholly." - -"What then?" - -"A product of Philistinism, an Agitator." - -Eveleth looked vaguely around over the silent room,--at Wentworth, -throned in a stately chair of mahogany and brass that had belonged to -the great Napoleon, still crowned with the garland of gold bay leaves he -had placed on his head after dinner, half in defiance, half in jest, now -sleeping, his chibouk lying between his knees; at the abandoned figures -motionless about the bronze brazier; at Aurelian, clothed gloriously in -a sleeveless gaberdine of blood-red silk over a white crêpe kimono heavy -with embroidery; at his own figure half wrapped in a big mantle of -rose-coloured damask. And everywhere the stillness of Oriental sleep. As -he looked he said dubiously, "An agitator? Do you think an agitator -would do--here? Isn't there rather too much to agitate?" - -"Yes, and for that reason I will let him come; as it is, this is almost -stagnation. He will amuse me, I feel,--I feel, that in a little while, -I--might be bored." - -Eveleth sank back resignedly and not without curiosity. Aurelian nodded, -and the servant glided away. - - * * * * * - -"Hello, Aurelian!" - -The words were like a stone dashed in the midst of a pool of brown -water, still, under willows. Wentworth, looking like a Napoleonic -_revenant_, shivered into wakefulness; Eveleth sat bolt upright with a -start; even the opium-smokers, all but Enderby, turned their heavy -heads, wakened from mysterious dreams. - -The new-comer stopped in the door and stared,--stared mightily. He -coughed and blinked in the smoky air. It was the clash of East and West, -of a fictitious, exotic East, of a commonplace, hard-headed, practical -West. - -"Where are you?" McCann cried loudly, making his way through the -twilight toward the sound of Aurelian's voice. - -"I'm glad to see you at last," he said doubtfully, "but I'm not quite -used to this sort of thing, you know; I feel as though I had drank too -much." His eyes fell on the confused heap of drowsy humanity around the -brazier. "Aurelian," he said sternly, "is this a 'joint' I have happened -on?" - -"It is my house," said Aurelian, in his gentle voice, "wherein I have -the honour to count you for the moment a guest." - -"I beg pardon," grimly; "but as I said, you must remember I am not -familiar with this sort of thing. I think I had better wait until you -are less busily engaged." - -"My dear fellow, I am never busily engaged, and I am never more idle -than now. You will stay, of course. Will you smoke?--I mean tobacco. I -think you smoke narghilehs; shall Murad come and light you one?" - -"Thanks, by your leave I will smoke my own," and McCann pulled out his -brier bull-dog, filled it from his own pouch, and sat down -constrainedly, his eyes fixed on the four men in their motley costumes, -strewn on the floor. - -At once Aurelian began to talk to him frankly and freely, as though -nothing had changed since last master and pupil had spoken together, -questioning him of his adventures in England and Germany while on his -mission among the socialist leaders. McCann noted with surprise and with -a feeling almost of reassurance that no detail of recent sociological -events had escaped Aurelian; that he listened with equal interest to all -that he told him; that he showed keen satisfaction at the outcome of two -or three recent strikes in which the strikers had been victorious. But -all the time the agitator's eyes were wandering over the dimly visible -details of the strange treasure-house where he found himself. He looked -on it all with growing resentment; it was hardly to be called -socialistic, and there seemed to be a lack of harmony between these -luxurious surroundings and the words that Aurelian was saying. There was -something awfully wrong; but he shrunk from knowing what he feared to be -the worst. - -After the first convulsion which his entrance had caused, the different -men had all fallen back languidly in their places; but now Wentworth -lifted himself lazily and came down toward Aurelian and the agitator. -"Well, _citoyen_," he said, nothing abashed by his fantastic garb, which -was far enough from being the same in which he generally met McCann, -"Well, _citoyen_, you come as a visitant from another world, like the -black steamers that crawl into the balmy vision known to the children of -men as Venice,--in it, not of it. Can you bring a tale of the things -without? Is there anything worthy of note in Philistia? How fare our -friends the republics of the world, there in the outer darkness?" - -"Oh," said McCann, with indifference, "there is another revolution on -down in Guatemala, and one expected daily in Brazil, and one in the -French Republic--" - -"And the smoke not yet cleared away from the last revolution in Brazil, -nor yet from the last in Chile, nor yet from the last in Honduras; wars -in half the republics in South and Central America, rumours of wars in -Mexico and all the rest; the French Republic counting the days that -already are numbered by its dupes at length undeceived,--I know the -whole grotesque story, and yet people talk about popular sovereignty and -republics. And you yourselves, McCann, _bon citoyen_, you agitators and -socialists, hug to yourselves the vain phantom of popular government. -You ought to know better, for you know something of sociology if you -_are_ sweetly ignorant on politics. What was that Balzac said, Aurelian? -Tell me." - -"About popular government, you mean?" - -"Yes." - -"Why, he called it the only government that is irresponsible and whose -tyranny will be unchecked because exercised under the name of law." - -"Ah, this is it! Isn't that exact? '_A bas la République_,' the King -shall come to his own again!" and he sung the words gaily to a fragment -of an old Jacobite air. "Don't interrupt me, Aurelian, the spirit is on -me and I must confound this blind leader." His tone changed and he put -his hand on McCann's shoulder. "Malcolm, you know as we all know here -that the present condition of this happy world is very like the Puritan -idea of hell. You know, also, that the preserving factor, if not the -original cause of this pleasant state of affairs, is the modern theory -of economics and its resulting industrial and commercial systems. Now, -what do you propose to substitute in place of this gigantic abortion, -this debauching incubus?" - -"State Socialism." - -"Exactly! Out of your own mouth have you condemned yourself. Man, man! -what would your State Socialism be in the hands of such a State as we -have now? In Chile? In Mexico? In any ring-ruled mob-ruled State in this -unhealthy republic? Why, simply the biggest and most wholesale 'job,' -the most arrant corruption, the most awful and omnipotent succubus that -ever waxed fat on the blood of a dying nation. Malcolm, you and your ilk -have made a dreary mistake; you think only of industrial reforms, while -to make these of effect you must first have a political reform which -will be in itself a revolution. Destroy the present system, build up an -honourable State, and then it will be time to talk of State Socialism." - -McCann had chafed furiously under this tirade, and as Wentworth threw -himself down in a low chair, lighting his Dimitrino cigarette at the -flames of the brazier, he burst out violently: "You are all wrong, you -don't know what you are talking about when you say we don't want a -political reform! We do, a radical reform." - -Wentworth's eyes gleamed amusedly through the rings of white smoke as he -said quietly, "How?" - -"I would destroy the whole system of party and ring rule." - -Wentworth smiled disdainfully. "My dear Malcolm," he said, blowing an -ash from his cigarette, "I spare you the humiliation of trying to tell -me how. Do you not realise that party and ring rule are the necessary -results of three of your dearest idols?--idols that you would defend, I -believe, with your life. They are these: Manhood suffrage, rotation in -office, and representative government. Until you are content to destroy -these in your political revolution your attempts to abolish ring and -partisan rule will fail." - -"They will not fail, for we shall abolish those abuses through making -the control of the people over their representatives more absolute and -direct." - -"The exact contrary of the result you hope for would follow from the -course you suggest. I can't convince you of that now; grant the truth of -your position for a moment, what would follow? You would simply -substitute for the repulsive rule of the 'bosses' a dreary and fleeting -government of emancipated slaves. We have seen the result of that in the -South, where we made fatal error in giving the black slaves a measure of -political power. You would do the same by giving the white slaves _all_ -political power. I say, emancipate them,--and govern them." - -"By whom?" - -"Their King and their peers." - -"Where will you find them in this country?" - -"Choose them." - -"By whom?" - -"The people." - -"Aha! Then you lose your point." - -"By no means, for the franchise should be a privilege, not a right, and -while the people should choose, only their leaders should govern." - -"You are a monarchist!" - -"Yes." - -"Then you are a reactionist, an aristocrat; no socialist!" - -"I am a monarchist and a vehement socialist." - -"That is a paradox." - -"So are most final truths, since a paradox is only a concise statement -of the colour on each side of the shield; you remember the fable?" - -"Then you mean to say that socialism and monarchism do not negative each -other?" - -"No more than the silver of one side of the shield negatives the gold of -the other." - -"You are a vain theorist!" - -"It is you who are a vain theorist; my position is based on history. I -know the record of the attempts to put the visionary theory of popular -government into practice." - -"We have never had a true popular government yet." - -"I agree with you; but we have had true princes." - -"Where?" - -For answer Wentworth turned his head a little and raised his eyes toward -a great picture hanging in the shadow. McCann followed his glance, and -found himself looking at the sad face with the mournful eyes of -Vandyke's portrait of King Charles I. of England. Curtains of old -purple velvet wrought with Bourbon lilies of tarnished gold hung on -either side, and from their midst the King seemed looking on them as in -a vision. The picture annoyed McCann; it was the presentment of a King, -a tyrant; he scowled at it ill-naturedly. - -"You keep that there because it is a good picture, I suppose," he said, -turning to Aurelian, who had been listening silently. - -"Because it is a copy of a good picture of a glorious King," replied -Aurelian. - -"A good _King_!" - -"A glorious King and most noble man." - -"You talk like a Jacobite." - -"I _am_ a Jacobite." - -McCann took his pipe out of his mouth. "What do you talk like that for? -You used to be a socialist." - -"I am still a socialist." - -"Are you bedevilled with Wentworth's theory that a man can be both a -socialist and a royalist?" - -"Certainly." - -"How do you justify such nonsense?" - -"By regarding both sides of the shield." - -"I deny that socialism is one side of a shield, the other side of which -is monarchism." - -"Then you should study history more carefully," interrupted Wentworth. - -"Will history prove to me that monarchism is not and has not been from -the first the bitter enemy of the people?" cried the agitator, -derisively, flashing his eyes savagely on the languid Wentworth. - -"That is exactly what it will prove," returned his tormentor, sweetly. - -"Well, I have studied history for twenty years, and it has taught me -exactly the reverse." - -"_Histories_, you mean; but you must remember that there is very little -history in histories." - -McCann gasped in impotent rage, but Aurelian interposed with his low -voice. "You will reach nothing by such argument, my children. You are -both visionaries,--you, Malcolm, who dream of ideal, impossible -republics surrounded by the tottering ruins of your fantastic fabrics, -builded on the shifting sand of popular fancies; you, Strafford -Wentworth, dear dupe of futile hopes, vainly watching for the King to -come to his own again. Dreamers both of you! I alone am the practical -man; I wait for that which the gods may give. In the mean time I stand -with the 'divine Plato,' aside, under the wall, while the storm of dust -goes by. Forsake your forlorn hope, Malcolm; stand to one side with me, -and wait. And in the mean time"--he lifted a strange Japanese viol--"in -the mean time, sing, and forget the imminent night. Malcolm, there is -beauty still left, and a little art; it will last us through the -twilight." - -"Art will not quiet my conscience, nor blind my eyes to the sight of -rotting slaves and foul fat drivers." - -"You take things too seriously!" cried Wentworth, biting the heavy -leaves one by one from a drooping rose. "It is like putting new wine -into old bottles to try to pour seriousness into this decrepit and -degenerate age." - -McCann laughed aloud. "I accept the omen; for the bottles, if I remember -aright, were burst!" - -"And you will spill your wine." - -"The type of blood; and the blood of martyrs is the seed of the new -Commonwealth!" - -"But why not take new bottles and save your precious wine?" - -"We have none, and the old are at hand." - -"They are rotting fast." - -"The world cannot wait,--mothers and children starve every day." - -"If you die for them it is only a life for a life, and the guilty -thrive." - -"Some will go down with us to hades!" - -Aurelian laughed softly, and rambled vaguely on over the strings of his -samosen, making strange music. "Now we will quarrel no more, for we are -where we began. Malcolm, if you must go to your death, _Vale_, I will -offer a kid and honey on the altar of Mnemosyne. Go your ways, and leave -me to mine; I am aweary of this servile and perishing world, rheumy and -gibbering. Here I have my books of the Elect, my fading pictures, my -treasures of dead civilisation. This is my monastery, like those of the -old Faith that, during the night that came down on the world after the -ruin of Rome, treasured as in an ark the seeds of the new life. Here I -can gather my Children of Light and bar my doors against the Philistines -without, among whom, dear Malcolm, force me not yet to number you. Be -lenient with me, accept my hospitality; it will strengthen you for your -fight with the windmill that forces the wind of God to grind men and -women like grain. In the mean time, it is still the youth of the night, -so I will give you more wine--or your favourite beer if you like; I have -some good Bavarian. Those four decadents and the poor agnostic there on -the floor are happy. I never take the black smoke myself, nor any of -you: wise, all of you, but God forbid that I should refuse any guest of -mine aught! They, sleeping in opium-dreams, have chosen their way. We -will choose another for ourselves." - - - - -III. - - -The night had grown old unnoticed, and now in the first dim twilight of -coming dawn Aurelian and McCann were sitting on the wide terrace that -stretched along the south side of the great house, smoking lazily and -drinking the fine rare wines that Aurelian treasured as he treasured his -precious books. Not far away the nightingales were singing in the thick -wood; other sound there was none save the sweet rustle and stir of the -awakening trees under the first thin wind of morning. - -At first McCann had raged inwardly at everything,--at the crowded -treasures of art that filled the castle-like house, at the dominant -luxury, at the opium, the wine, at all the unfamiliar splendour that -surrounded Aurelian. He sat now listening unappreciatively to Aurelian's -quiet voice discoursing lovingly of the Romanée Conti, which he himself -could not have told from Mâcon. "There are not two dozen of this vintage -in America outside of my own cellars," Aurelian had said, and the poor -agitator heard him miserably. He did remember, indeed, when a slim glass -of amber Madeira was placed on the Indian table by his side and its name -given him, that some one had once told him that Constitution Madeira was -last quoted in New York at seventy dollars a bottle, and so he drank his -glass with a kind of distant wonder, but without pleasure; he thought it -musty, he would have chosen Bass. Yet, even as he lay in the long Indian -chair, the subtle influence of Aurelian's Lattakhia and of his ancient -wine worked slowly in his system, and already he began to think with -something approaching tolerance of his pupil's apostasy. He lay full -length looking out over the carved balustrade through the silvery -jasmine flowers amid their black leaves, to where the sky of blazing -stars, already paling before the advancing day, ceased at the edge of -the dark hills; and as he lay thus dreamily, he even wondered if he had -realised all that there was in life, in his career of feverish action. - -Aurelian tossed the glowing end of his cigarette out through the jasmine -leaves, watching it fall like a scarlet star. "Do you not see how it -is?" he said; "I know to the full the grotesque hideousness of life as -it is, and I long for revolution. But I have seen every man who is fired -with desire to bring the change yield to the baleful influence of that -which he would destroy until he has come to see no ideals save those of -materialism. His ideal of life is a socialistic ideal of a dead, gross, -physical ease and level uniformity; his ideal of government a democracy; -his ideal of industry State factories with gigantic steam-engines,--his -whole system but the present system with all its false ideals, deprived -of its individualism. I have lived beyond this, I can see the futility -of all these things. I believe only in art as the object of -production,--art which shall glorify that which we eat, that wherewith -we clothe ourselves, those things whereby we are sheltered; art which -shall be this and more,--the ultimate expression of all that is -spiritual, religious, and divine in the soul of man. I hate material -prosperity, I refuse to justify machinery, I cannot pardon public -opinion. I desire only absolute individuality and the triumph of -idealism. I detest the republic, and long for the monarchy again." - -"Aurelian," said McCann, "will you tell me straight what you mean when -you say that, yet claim to be a socialist? I asked you once before that -empty-headed Rip Van Winkle called Strafford Wentworth in the other -room, and you made an evasive answer. Now, tell me, how do you reconcile -the two?" - -"Because I believe that political socialism will destroy society and -clear the ground for a new life; because it will annihilate the -Republic, and make monarchial government possible." - -"It will destroy neither, but reform them both." - -"It cannot reform either, for the principles of each are false." - -"What do you fancy those principles to be?" - -"Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." - -"Do you dare to call those principles false?" - -"Liberty and equality false, fraternity impossible so long as the first -two pretend to exist." - -McCann sat bolt upright. "Look here, Aurelian," he said seriously, "I -can't talk in this way, I am not that kind of man. What has come over -you? I left you a socialist, and I come back and find you an unreasoning -royalist, incapable of talking sense, putting your defenceless fancies -into the armour of paradox. What in the name of common-sense do you mean -by it?" - -Aurelian turned his handsome head and looked at the red-bearded -agitator. "Malcolm," he said gently, "as you would say, we had best have -it out. I have changed, but not exactly in the way you think. As I say, -I am a socialist but also a royalist, as well as many other things you -would think equally bad. I have done a good deal of reading of late, a -good deal of thinking; so I have grown,--more than you, for you have -only acted. And just that, if you don't mind my saying so, is precisely -the trouble with most socialists. Look, this is the situation,"--he sat -up with almost animation in his face. "The world is in a bad way, never -worse; you taught me that, and the more I study life the more convinced -I am of its eternal truth. Reform must come if we are to save this -decrepit world from a vain repetition of history; that of course follows -from the other assumption. Thus far we walk together; but then arises -the question of means, and here we part, for you say reform may be won -by agitation, I say man is helpless at the present juncture and can only -wait." - -"Men have not waited before; they have acted and have won." - -"Yes, for it was dawn and not the eleventh hour." - -"What do you make of the French Revolution?" - -"A reform undertaken at the eleventh hour, and therefore merging within -three years into hideous deformity,--a reform that failed." - -"You dare to say that it failed when it destroyed feudalism and the -rotten monarchial system?" - -"Yes, for in their places it made possible capitalism and the French -Republic. Should your agitation succeed it would result in the French -Revolution over again, together with all its corollaries,--anarchy, -kakistocracy, a glorious tyranny on a false foundation, kakistocracy -again, and chaos: a counter revolution, again a kakistocracy, and -finally impotence, false and evil as the destroyed feudalism." - -"You are the worst pessimist I ever saw!" - -"Of course, for I am an optimist; and one can't be an optimist touching -the future without being a pessimist touching the present." - -"But how can you be an optimist with regard to the future when you -condemn not only the present but every effort toward rebellion and -reform?" - -"Because you are trying to turn back a tide that is almost at its full. -Have patience, and the ebb will come." - -A great Persian greyhound, with white silky hair, paced solemnly down -the terrace and dropped its head on its master's knees, gazing at him -with soft eyes. Aurelian stroked its nose gently. - -"Malcolm," he said, "if you persist you will fail, either broken by the -power you attack or through creating a condition more evil, more -intolerable still. There is a depth of fall below the point the -nineteenth century has now reached, and until that destiny is -accomplished, you are helpless." - -"You break my heart, Aurelian," said McCann, sadly. "When I went away -you promised to fight with me in the battle for reform. I thought you -understood me, followed me. And now--you lapse into awful luxury and -vice,--opium and things. This is pretty bad, you force me to call you a -recreant; here on the very eve of battle you forsake the cause, you go -over to the enemy; and worse, you are a traitor, for you debauch my -men,--you have North now in there drugged with opium. Last of all, you -try to tempt me, you urge me to give up the fight; but I am not a -deserter." - -"Malcolm, dear boy, I don't deserve quite all of that," said Aurelian, -gently. "Yes, I have deserted as you say, for I see more clearly than -you; the battle is already lost even before it is fought. I thought once -when you filled me with ardour of war that we could win. I see further -now. Dear Malcolm, you are waging war against the gods; you have -mistaken the light that is on the horizon; you have waked from sleep, -but the flush of light that is in your eyes is not the dawn,--it is -sunset. You taught me that we lived in another Renaissance; I know it -now to be another decadence, inevitable, implacable." - -"You are wrong; the decadents have bedevilled you; they are but the -froth of the wave that has broken on the shore: the wave of the New Life -follows behind to sweep them into nothingness. Leave the simile: grant -for the moment that you are right: are you a coward to forsake a good -cause that may fail? Have you forgotten John Ball?" - -"No, I have not forgotten John Ball, but I am not made of the stuff of -martyrs. Malcolm, I love life and love, and the beautiful things still -saved from the wreck of worlds. You would make me--an artist--forsake -it all, and go shoulder a rifle, or carry a red flag. I have a life -given me, let me live. I am not a fighter, let me be; let me live here -in this happy oasis in the desert of men. I can't help you, I can only -lay down my life on a barricade." - -"That is brute selfishness!" - -"No, it is reason. I know myself: I am of no use to you; I thought I -might be once, and I tried. Everything sickens me,--every detail of the -life that is now, the stock exchange and newspapers, alleged art and -trade, and the whole false principle that is under it all. I can't fight -them, the contest sickens me. It is all wrong, the principle of your -reform; you are wrong yourself. I can't have hope, and if I can't have -hope I can't fight. How can I fight for a reform that, if it were -carried, would only take the power out of the hands of a sordid gang of -capitalists and throw it into the hands of a sordid gang of emancipated -slaves? Life would be as hideous under their _régime_ as now. You would -change the ownership of cities, but you would not destroy them. You -would change the control of machinery, but you would not destroy it. You -would, in a word, glorify the machine, magnify the details, ignore the -soul of it all,--and the result? Stagnation. I have read your -Utopias,--they are hopelessly Philistine; their remedies are stimulants -that leave the disease untouched. Malcolm, you will fail, for you do not -see far enough. 'Ill would change be at whiles, were it not for the -change beyond the change.' They are the words of your own prophet; you -will, if you succeed, bring in the change, and it will be ill indeed. I -wait for 'the change beyond the change.'" - -"I deny that the change that we shall bring will be ill; it will be the -next step beyond where we are now. There is no turning back: the law of -evolution drives us onward always; each new position won is nobler than -the last." - -"Ah, that 'law of evolution'--I knew you would quote it to me sooner or -later. You hug the pleasant and cheerful theory to your hearts, and -twist history to fit its fancied laws. You cannot see that the law of -evolution works by a system of waves advancing and retreating; yet as -you say the tide goes forward always. Civilisations have risen and -fallen in the past as ours has risen and is falling now. Does not -history repeat itself? Can you not see that this is one of the periods -of decadence that alternate inevitably with the periods of advance? The -tide-- - - 'W_as once too at the full, and round earth's shore_ - L_ay like the folds of a bright girdle furled;_ - B_ut now I only hear_ - I_ts melancholy, long-withdrawing roar_ - R_etreating to the breath_ - O_f the night-wind, down the vast edges drear_ - A_nd naked shingles of the world._' - -"Yes, it is the decadence, the Roman decadence over again. Were Lucian -to come among us now he would be quite at ease--no, not that, for in one -thing we are utterly changed; so sordid is our decadence, so gross, so -contemptibly material, that we are denied the consolations of art -vouchsafed to his own land. Even in the days of her death Rome could -boast the splendour of a luxuriant literature, the glory of beauty of -environment, the supremacy of an art-appreciation that blinded men's -eyes to the shadow of the end. But for us, in the meanness of our fall, -we have no rags of art wherewith to cover our nakedness. Wagner is dead, -and Turner and Rossetti; Burne-Jones and Watts will go soon, and Pater -will follow Newman and Arnold. The night is at hand." - -He lifted a small hammer and struck a velvet-voiced bell that stood on -the Arabian table of cedar inlaid with nacre and ivory. Murad came out -of the darkness, and at a gesture from Aurelian filled the great hookah -of jade and amber with the tobacco mingled with honey and opium and -cinnamon, placed a bright coal in the cup, and gave the curling stem -wound with gold thread to his master. - -Malcolm watched it all as in a midsummer dream; for once he was -succumbing to the subtle influences that were seducing his yielding -senses. He could not reply to Aurelian, he lacked now even the desire. -The slow and musical voice, so delicately cadenced, had grown infinitely -pleasing to his unfamiliar ears, strangely fascinating in its mellow -charm. Wondering, he found himself yielding to it,--at first defiantly, -then sulkily, then with careless enjoyment, forgetful of everything -save his new delight in his strange surroundings. - -The rose-water gurgled and sobbed in the jade hookah; thin lines of -odorous smoke rose sinuously to the silken awning that hung above the -terrace, dead in the hot August night. For a time neither spoke; then at -length Aurelian said, with a more sorrowful gravity than before,-- - -"Yes, the night is at hand, and the darkness at last will cover our -shame. It is better so. I thought once that through art we might work -revolution, and so win the world to clearness of sight again; that was -because I did not know the nature of art. Art is a result, not an -accident,--a result of conditions that no longer exist. We might as well -work for the restoration of chivalry, of the House of Stuart, of the -spirit of the Cinque-Cento, or any other equally desirable yet hopeless -thing. What we are, that our art is also. Every school of art, every -lecture on æsthetics, every art museum, is a waste and a vanity, their -influence is nothing. Art can never happen again; we who love it and -know it for what it is, the flowering of life, may only dream in the -past, building for ourselves a stately pleasure-house in Xanadu on the -banks of that river measureless to man that runs to a sunless sea. - -"Individualism begot materialism, and materialism begot realism; and -realism is the antithesis of art. - -"What else could have been? Art is a result,--and a cause; at once the -flower of life and the seed of the age to come. That age which through -its meanness and poverty is barren of blooms leaves no seed for its own -propagation. Good-night then to art; for the time its day is done. -Intelligence and erudition may create a creditable archæology, and a -blind generation may--nay, has--mistaken this for art. Well, its folly -is fond and pitiful. - -"Do you not see, then, how the discovery of this thing must fill me with -that despair which kills all effort? You will say, 'Rise then, gird -thyself with the sword of scorn and invective, and strike with -exaltation at the false civilisation which is the death of art and of -all that is worthy in life.' Dear boy, our fathers in their fond, -visionary idealism made for all time such warfare of no avail. By -cunning schemes and crafty mechanism they, impelled by most honourable -motives, have woven a System which is now not alone the System of these -United States but of that Europe which we have dragged to our level; a -System which is now being accepted by that pure and happy civilisation, -the last to yield to our importunity, Japan, and being accepted to its -own damnation. And that System has made impossible forever any -successful result; for so dominant is it, so subtle in its influence, so -almighty in its power, that human strength is helpless before it. -Moreover, it will, through its infinite craft, seem to yield now and -then, yet only in form; for it will so debauch the reformers that they -will think now and again their cause is won, yet will it have lost -every element of desirability. Nevertheless 'the People' will shout with -acclamation, 'Victory! glorious victory! won through the strength of our -immortal and matchless institutions.' And all the while they are -shouting for the shadow of revolution, for the dead body from which the -soul has fled. - -"'What is this System,' do you say? I will tell you; it is the system of -the nineteenth century, by which it will be known in the histories of -times to come, should time continue,--the great three-fold system of -Equality, The Freedom of the Press, and Public Opinion. You yourself do -them honour, for that you yourself have yielded to their evil influence; -until you have risen once for all superior to their plausible sophistry, -every thought you have, every act you are guilty of, will be tainted by -them and made of no avail. The whole world kneels before them now, -confessing their dominion. So long as this is so, so long will reform be -impossible. - -"Democracy, Public Opinion, Freedom of the Press,--the idolatrous -tritheism of a corrupt generation. Through the Institution of Democracy -you have bound yourself with invincible chains to a political system -which is the government of the best, by the worst, for the few,--in -other words, the suppression of the intelligent few by the mob for the -bosses. By the Institution of Public Opinion you have made Democracy -permanent, preventing forever the rule of the 'saving remnant.' You -have founded your unholy inquisition for the suppression of the martyrs -to wisdom, and by your Institution of the Freedom of the Press you have -raised a tyranny, an irresponsible hierarchy of godless demagogues, an -impeccable final authority which will suppress, as it suppresses now, -all honourable freedom of thought. You have broken and destroyed the -power of the Church, and you are proud thereof; but beware! for in its -place you have builded a Power, more widespread, more overwhelming, more -irresistible. Though you crushed Democracy and discredited Public -Opinion, yet so long as the Freedom of the Press remained in existence, -Journalism would by its bull of deposition, its anathema of -excommunication, extinguish your labour in a breath. - -"Here is your triple-headed Cerberus that bars your exit from this hades -you have made. Until he is slain you may never escape. Slain? You cannot -slay him; he is sheathed in an impenetrable hide, proof against all -assaults. Listen, only in one way may you pass by him. Wait! In a little -time his three horrid heads will growl with rising fury each to each, -over the enormous spoils of decaying life. Wait! and the growls will -grow fierce and more furious; and at last in mortal and horrible combat -the beast will strive with _itself_, spreading chaos and death around. -So will it disable itself; and when at last its triple head has -collapsed in ghastly exhaustion, then will the time have come: pile -upon it the hoary boulders of experience left by immemorial glaciers of -time; raise them into a mountain, and though, like imprisoned Titan, the -horrid beast bellows and thunders below, you may go forth fearlessly, -and on the dread ruin he has wrought build a new civilisation, a new -life." - -Aurelian's ardent eyes gazed on the man before him through the writhing -smoke in the pallid dawn; his voice was like the voice of a velvet bell. - -"Yes, it is the end of years; the era of action is over, night follows, -blotting from sight the shame of a wasted world; but through the mute, -unutterable night rises and brightens the splendour of the new day, the -new life. Action has striven and failed, and wreck and ruin are the -ending thereof; but across the desert of failure and despair bursts the -flame of the Dawn; the far-forgotten spirit of the world rises toward -dominion again,--the spirit of visions and dreams, the mighty Mother of -worlds and men, the Soul of the Eternal East." - -Aurelian had risen and stood facing McCann, his white face lighted by a -flame of sudden vigour and inspiration; but even as he finished speaking -it changed. His eyes grew soft, and he smiled gently. "Malcolm," he -said, coming to the speechless agitator, and laying an arm lightly over -his broad shoulders, "Malcolm, I shall hardly forgive you this. You have -made me almost enthusiastic again; for a moment I could have believed -once more there was virtue in action; that has passed, and I am myself -again. And now, look!" - -The sun rose, and its level river of light swept through the valley. A -mist like vaporous opals rose slowly from the winding river below them, -curling in the amber air and brushing itself in thin plumes over the -pale sky. Down from the terrace stretched the great garden, where -multitudinous lilies flashed in the first light with iridescent dew. A -splendid peacock swept flauntingly through the mazy walks and among the -white statues until it reached the central fountain, where it spread -itself in the sun. At the foot of the last terrace, where the marble -steps turned to serpentine in the still water, a small white boat with -prow of gilded fretwork lay motionless among the opening water-lilies -and the great blooms of the lotos. The breath of honeysuckle and jasmine -and day-lilies and tuberoses drifted slowly up in the first stirring -wind. The river-mist lifted, showing the golden meadows with the slim -elms here and there and the lofty hills fringed with dark forests -beyond. - -"Malcolm," said Aurelian, "beyond those fortress hills lies -the world,--the nineteenth century, seething with impotent -tumult,--festering towns of shoe factories and cotton-mills, lying -tradesmen and legalised piracy; pork-packing, stock-brokers, quarrelling -and snarling sectaries, and railroads; politicians, mammonism, realism, -and newspapers. Within my walls, which are the century-living pines, is -the world of the past and of the future, of the fifteenth century and -of the twentieth century. Here have I gathered all my treasures of art -and letters; here may those I love find rest and refreshment when worn -out with hopeless lighting. Suffer me to live here and forget, or live -in a living dream of dreamless life. Against my hilly ramparts life may -beat in vain,--it cannot enter. Here I am a King; humour my fancy, and -give over your striving to make a poet into a warrior. There is other -work before me. Even as in the monasteries of the sixth century the wise -monks treasured the priceless records of a dead life until the night had -passed and the white day of mediævalism dawned on the world, so suffer -me to dream in my cloister through evil days; for the night has come -when man may no longer work." - - * * * * * - -Here ends the Gospel of Inaction called the Decadent, which is privately -issued for the Author by Copeland and Day, of Cornhill, Boston, in an -edition limited to one hundred and ten copies on this yellow French -handmade paper, and fifteen copies on thick Lalanne paper, which have -been printed during October and November, MDCCCXCIII by John Wilson and -Son, Cambridge, at the University Press. The Frontispiece and Initial -letters are designed by Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue and cut upon wood by -John Sample, Jr. - -[Illustration] - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - -Page 1, changed "agressive" to "aggressive" and changed oe ligature to -"oe" in "foetid." 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