章节正文
"Well," said the stranger, "that is one way to live, no doubt. But
I prefer the people with the green heads."
Next they came into a city, and the streets were full of men and
women.
"These are very odd people," said the stranger.
"They are the people of the greatest nation in the world," said the
philosopher.
"Are they indeed?" said the stranger. "They scarcely look so."
XIV. - THE CART-HORSES AND THE SADDLE-HORSE.
Two cart-horses, a gelding and a mare, were brought to Samoa, and
put in the same field with a saddle-horse to run free on the
island. They were rather afraid to go near him, for they saw he
was a saddle-horse, and supposed he would not speak to them. Now
the saddle-horse had never seen creatures so big. "These must be
great chiefs," thought he, and he approached them civilly. "Lady
and gentleman," said he, "I understand you are from the colonies.
I offer you my affectionate compliments, and make you heartily
welcome to the islands."
The colonials looked at him askance, and consulted with each other.
"Who can he be?" said the gelding.
"He seems suspiciously civil," said the mare.
"I do not think he can be much account," said the gelding.
"Depend upon it he is only a Kanaka," said the mare.
Then they turned to him.
"Go to the devil!" said the gelding.
"I wonder at your impudence, speaking to persons of our quality!"
cried the mare.
The saddle-horse went away by himself. "I was right," said he,
"they are great chiefs."
XV - THE TADPOLE AND THE FROG.
"BE ashamed of yourself," said the frog.
"When I was a tadpole, I had no tail."
"Just what I thought!" said the tadpole.
"You never were a tadpole."
XVI. - SOMETHING IN IT.
THE natives told him many tales. In particular, they warned him of
the house of yellow reeds tied with black sinnet, how any one who
touched it became instantly the prey of Akaanga, and was handed on
to him by Miru the ruddy, and hocussed with the kava of the dead,
and baked in the ovens and eaten by the eaters of the dead.
"There is nothing in it," said the missionary.
There was a bay upon that island, a very fair bay to look upon;
but, by the native saying, it was death to bathe there. "There is
nothing in that," said the missionary; and he came to the bay, and
went swimming. Presently an eddy took him and bore him towards the
reef. "Oho!" thought the missionary, "it seems there is something
in it after all." And he swam the harder, but the eddy carried him
away. "I do not care about this eddy," said the missionary; and
even as he said it, he was aware of a house raised on piles above
the sea; it was built of yellow reeds, one reed joined with
another, and the whole bound with black sinnet; a ladder led to the
door, and all about the house hung calabashes. He had never seen
such a house, nor yet such calabashes; and the eddy set for the
ladder. "This is singular," said the missionary, "but there can be
nothing in it." And he laid hold of the ladder and went up. It
was a fine house; but there was no man there; and when the
missionary looked back he saw no island, only the heaving of the
sea. "It is strange about the island," said the missionary, "but
who's afraid? my stories are the true ones." And he laid hold of a
calabash, for he was one that loved curiosities. Now he had no
sooner laid hand upon the calabash than that which he handled, and
that which he saw and stood on, burst like a bubble and was gone;
and night closed upon him, and the waters, and the meshes of the
net; and he wallowed there like a fish.
"A body would think there was something in this," said the
missionary. "But if these tales are true, I wonder what about my
tales!"
Now the flaming of Akaanga's torch drew near in the night; and the
misshapen hands groped in the meshes of the net; and they took the
missionary between the finger and the thumb, and bore him dripping
in the night and silence to the place of the ovens of Miru. And
there was Miru, ruddy in the glow of the ovens; and there sat her
four daughters, and made the kava of the dead; and there sat the
comers out of the islands of the living, dripping and lamenting.
This was a dread place to reach for any of the sons of men. But of
all who ever came there, the missionary was the most concerned;
and, to make things worse, the person next him was a convert of his
own.
"Aha," said the convert, "so you are here like your neighbours?
And how about all your stories?"
"It seems," said the missionary, with bursting tears, "that there
was nothing in them."
By this the kava of the dead was ready, and the daughters of Miru
began to intone in the old manner of singing. "Gone are the green
islands and the bright sea, the sun and the moon and the forty
million stars, and life and love and hope. Henceforth is no more,
only to sit in the night and silence, and see your friends
devoured; for life is a deceit, and the bandage is taken from your
eyes."
Now when the singing was done, one of the daughters came with the
bowl. Desire of that kava rose in the missionary's bosom; he
lusted for it like a swimmer for the land, or a bridegroom for his
bride; and he reached out his hand, and took the bowl, and would
have drunk. And then he remembered, and put it back.
"Drink!" sang the daughter of Miru.
"There is no kava like the kava of the dead, and to drink of it
once is the reward of living."
"I thank you. It smells excellent," said the missionary. "But I
am a blue-ribbon man myself; and though I am aware there is a
difference of opinion even in our own confession, I have always
held kava to be excluded."
"What!" cried the convert. "Are you going to respect a taboo at a
time like this? And you were always so opposed to taboos when you
were alive!"
"To other people's," said the missionary. "Never to my own."
"But yours have all proved wrong," said the convert.
"It looks like it," said the missionary, "and I can't help that.
No reason why I should break my word."
"I never heard the like of this!" cried the daughter of Miru.
"Pray, what do you expect to gain?"
"That is not the point," said the missionary. "I took this pledge
for others, I am not going to break it for myself."
The daughter of Miru was puzzled; she came and told her mother, and
Miru was vexed; and they went and told Akaanga. "I don't know what
to do about this," said Akaanga; and he came and reasoned with the
missionary.
"But there IS such a thing as right and wrong," said the
missionary; "and your ovens cannot alter that."
"Give the kava to the rest," said Akaanga to the daughters of Miru.
"I must get rid of this sea-lawyer instantly, or worse will come of
it."
The next moment the missionary came up in the midst of the sea, and
there before him were the palm trees of the island. He swam to the
shore gladly, and landed. Much matter of thought was in that
missionary's mind.
"I seem to have been misinformed upon some points," said he.
"Perhaps there is not much in it, as I supposed; but there is
something in it after all. Let me be glad of that."
And he rang the bell for service.
MORAL.
The sticks break, the stones crumble,
The eternal altars tilt and tumble,
Sanctions and tales dislimn like mist
About the amazed evangelist.
He stands unshook from age to youth
Upon one pin-point of the truth.
XVII. - FAITH, HALF FAITH AND NO FAITH AT ALL.
IN the ancient days there went three men upon pilgrimage; one was a
priest, and one was a virtuous person, and the third was an old
rover with his axe.
As they went, the priest spoke about the grounds of faith.
"We find the proofs of our religion in the works of nature," said
he, and beat his breast.
"That is true," said the virtuous person.
"The peacock has a scrannel voice," said the priest, "as has been
laid down always in our books. How cheering!" he cried, in a voice
like one that wept. "How comforting!"
"I require no such proofs," said the virtuous person.
"Then you have no reasonable faith," said the priest.
"Great is the right, and shall prevail!" cried the virtuous person.
"There is loyalty in my soul; be sure, there is loyalty in the mind
of Odin."
"These are but playings upon words," returned the priest. "A
sackful of such trash is nothing to the peacock."
Just then they passed a country farm, where there was a peacock
seated on a rail; and the bird opened its mouth and sang with the
voice of a nightingale.
"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet this
shakes not me! Great is the truth, and shall prevail!"
"The devil fly away with that peacock!" said the priest; and he was
downcast for a mile or two.
But presently they came to a shrine, where a Fakeer performed
miracles.
"Ah!" said the priest, "here are the true grounds of faith. The
peacock was but an adminicle. This is the base of our religion."
And he beat upon his breast, and groaned like one with colic.
"Now to me," said the virtuous person, "all this is as little to
the purpose as the peacock. I believe because I see the right is
great and must prevail; and this Fakeer might carry on with his
conjuring tricks till doomsday, and it would not play bluff upon a
man like me."
Now at this the Fakeer was so much incensed that his hand trembled;
and, lo! in the midst of a miracle the cards fell from up his
sleeve.
"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet it shakes
not me!"
"The devil fly away with the Fakeer!" cried the priest. "I really
do not see the good of going on with this pilgrimage."
"Cheer up!" cried the virtuous person. "Great is the right, and
shall prevail!"
"If you are quite sure it will prevail," says the priest.
"I pledge my word for that," said the virtuous person.
So the other began to go on again with a better heart.
At last one came running, and told them all was lost: that the
powers of darkness had besieged the Heavenly Mansions, that Odin
was to die, and evil triumph.
"I have been grossly deceived," cried the virtuous person.
"All is lost now," said the priest.
"I wonder if it is too late to make it up with the devil?" said the
virtuous person.
"Oh, I hope not," said the priest. "And at any rate we can but
try. But what are you doing with your axe?" says he to the rover.
"I am off to die with Odin," said the rover.
XVIII. - THE TOUCHSTONE.
THE King was a man that stood well before the world; his smile was
sweet as clover, but his soul withinsides was as little as a pea.
He had two sons; and the younger son was a boy after his heart, but
the elder was one whom he feared. It befell one morning that the
drum sounded in the dun before it was yet day; and the King rode
with his two sons, and a brave array behind them. They rode two
hours, and came to the foot of a brown mountain that was very
I prefer the people with the green heads."
Next they came into a city, and the streets were full of men and
women.
"These are very odd people," said the stranger.
"They are the people of the greatest nation in the world," said the
philosopher.
"Are they indeed?" said the stranger. "They scarcely look so."
XIV. - THE CART-HORSES AND THE SADDLE-HORSE.
Two cart-horses, a gelding and a mare, were brought to Samoa, and
put in the same field with a saddle-horse to run free on the
island. They were rather afraid to go near him, for they saw he
was a saddle-horse, and supposed he would not speak to them. Now
the saddle-horse had never seen creatures so big. "These must be
great chiefs," thought he, and he approached them civilly. "Lady
and gentleman," said he, "I understand you are from the colonies.
I offer you my affectionate compliments, and make you heartily
welcome to the islands."
The colonials looked at him askance, and consulted with each other.
"Who can he be?" said the gelding.
"He seems suspiciously civil," said the mare.
"I do not think he can be much account," said the gelding.
"Depend upon it he is only a Kanaka," said the mare.
Then they turned to him.
"Go to the devil!" said the gelding.
"I wonder at your impudence, speaking to persons of our quality!"
cried the mare.
The saddle-horse went away by himself. "I was right," said he,
"they are great chiefs."
XV - THE TADPOLE AND THE FROG.
"BE ashamed of yourself," said the frog.
"When I was a tadpole, I had no tail."
"Just what I thought!" said the tadpole.
"You never were a tadpole."
XVI. - SOMETHING IN IT.
THE natives told him many tales. In particular, they warned him of
the house of yellow reeds tied with black sinnet, how any one who
touched it became instantly the prey of Akaanga, and was handed on
to him by Miru the ruddy, and hocussed with the kava of the dead,
and baked in the ovens and eaten by the eaters of the dead.
"There is nothing in it," said the missionary.
There was a bay upon that island, a very fair bay to look upon;
but, by the native saying, it was death to bathe there. "There is
nothing in that," said the missionary; and he came to the bay, and
went swimming. Presently an eddy took him and bore him towards the
reef. "Oho!" thought the missionary, "it seems there is something
in it after all." And he swam the harder, but the eddy carried him
away. "I do not care about this eddy," said the missionary; and
even as he said it, he was aware of a house raised on piles above
the sea; it was built of yellow reeds, one reed joined with
another, and the whole bound with black sinnet; a ladder led to the
door, and all about the house hung calabashes. He had never seen
such a house, nor yet such calabashes; and the eddy set for the
ladder. "This is singular," said the missionary, "but there can be
nothing in it." And he laid hold of the ladder and went up. It
was a fine house; but there was no man there; and when the
missionary looked back he saw no island, only the heaving of the
sea. "It is strange about the island," said the missionary, "but
who's afraid? my stories are the true ones." And he laid hold of a
calabash, for he was one that loved curiosities. Now he had no
sooner laid hand upon the calabash than that which he handled, and
that which he saw and stood on, burst like a bubble and was gone;
and night closed upon him, and the waters, and the meshes of the
net; and he wallowed there like a fish.
"A body would think there was something in this," said the
missionary. "But if these tales are true, I wonder what about my
tales!"
Now the flaming of Akaanga's torch drew near in the night; and the
misshapen hands groped in the meshes of the net; and they took the
missionary between the finger and the thumb, and bore him dripping
in the night and silence to the place of the ovens of Miru. And
there was Miru, ruddy in the glow of the ovens; and there sat her
four daughters, and made the kava of the dead; and there sat the
comers out of the islands of the living, dripping and lamenting.
This was a dread place to reach for any of the sons of men. But of
all who ever came there, the missionary was the most concerned;
and, to make things worse, the person next him was a convert of his
own.
"Aha," said the convert, "so you are here like your neighbours?
And how about all your stories?"
"It seems," said the missionary, with bursting tears, "that there
was nothing in them."
By this the kava of the dead was ready, and the daughters of Miru
began to intone in the old manner of singing. "Gone are the green
islands and the bright sea, the sun and the moon and the forty
million stars, and life and love and hope. Henceforth is no more,
only to sit in the night and silence, and see your friends
devoured; for life is a deceit, and the bandage is taken from your
eyes."
Now when the singing was done, one of the daughters came with the
bowl. Desire of that kava rose in the missionary's bosom; he
lusted for it like a swimmer for the land, or a bridegroom for his
bride; and he reached out his hand, and took the bowl, and would
have drunk. And then he remembered, and put it back.
"Drink!" sang the daughter of Miru.
"There is no kava like the kava of the dead, and to drink of it
once is the reward of living."
"I thank you. It smells excellent," said the missionary. "But I
am a blue-ribbon man myself; and though I am aware there is a
difference of opinion even in our own confession, I have always
held kava to be excluded."
"What!" cried the convert. "Are you going to respect a taboo at a
time like this? And you were always so opposed to taboos when you
were alive!"
"To other people's," said the missionary. "Never to my own."
"But yours have all proved wrong," said the convert.
"It looks like it," said the missionary, "and I can't help that.
No reason why I should break my word."
"I never heard the like of this!" cried the daughter of Miru.
"Pray, what do you expect to gain?"
"That is not the point," said the missionary. "I took this pledge
for others, I am not going to break it for myself."
The daughter of Miru was puzzled; she came and told her mother, and
Miru was vexed; and they went and told Akaanga. "I don't know what
to do about this," said Akaanga; and he came and reasoned with the
missionary.
"But there IS such a thing as right and wrong," said the
missionary; "and your ovens cannot alter that."
"Give the kava to the rest," said Akaanga to the daughters of Miru.
"I must get rid of this sea-lawyer instantly, or worse will come of
it."
The next moment the missionary came up in the midst of the sea, and
there before him were the palm trees of the island. He swam to the
shore gladly, and landed. Much matter of thought was in that
missionary's mind.
"I seem to have been misinformed upon some points," said he.
"Perhaps there is not much in it, as I supposed; but there is
something in it after all. Let me be glad of that."
And he rang the bell for service.
MORAL.
The sticks break, the stones crumble,
The eternal altars tilt and tumble,
Sanctions and tales dislimn like mist
About the amazed evangelist.
He stands unshook from age to youth
Upon one pin-point of the truth.
XVII. - FAITH, HALF FAITH AND NO FAITH AT ALL.
IN the ancient days there went three men upon pilgrimage; one was a
priest, and one was a virtuous person, and the third was an old
rover with his axe.
As they went, the priest spoke about the grounds of faith.
"We find the proofs of our religion in the works of nature," said
he, and beat his breast.
"That is true," said the virtuous person.
"The peacock has a scrannel voice," said the priest, "as has been
laid down always in our books. How cheering!" he cried, in a voice
like one that wept. "How comforting!"
"I require no such proofs," said the virtuous person.
"Then you have no reasonable faith," said the priest.
"Great is the right, and shall prevail!" cried the virtuous person.
"There is loyalty in my soul; be sure, there is loyalty in the mind
of Odin."
"These are but playings upon words," returned the priest. "A
sackful of such trash is nothing to the peacock."
Just then they passed a country farm, where there was a peacock
seated on a rail; and the bird opened its mouth and sang with the
voice of a nightingale.
"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet this
shakes not me! Great is the truth, and shall prevail!"
"The devil fly away with that peacock!" said the priest; and he was
downcast for a mile or two.
But presently they came to a shrine, where a Fakeer performed
miracles.
"Ah!" said the priest, "here are the true grounds of faith. The
peacock was but an adminicle. This is the base of our religion."
And he beat upon his breast, and groaned like one with colic.
"Now to me," said the virtuous person, "all this is as little to
the purpose as the peacock. I believe because I see the right is
great and must prevail; and this Fakeer might carry on with his
conjuring tricks till doomsday, and it would not play bluff upon a
man like me."
Now at this the Fakeer was so much incensed that his hand trembled;
and, lo! in the midst of a miracle the cards fell from up his
sleeve.
"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet it shakes
not me!"
"The devil fly away with the Fakeer!" cried the priest. "I really
do not see the good of going on with this pilgrimage."
"Cheer up!" cried the virtuous person. "Great is the right, and
shall prevail!"
"If you are quite sure it will prevail," says the priest.
"I pledge my word for that," said the virtuous person.
So the other began to go on again with a better heart.
At last one came running, and told them all was lost: that the
powers of darkness had besieged the Heavenly Mansions, that Odin
was to die, and evil triumph.
"I have been grossly deceived," cried the virtuous person.
"All is lost now," said the priest.
"I wonder if it is too late to make it up with the devil?" said the
virtuous person.
"Oh, I hope not," said the priest. "And at any rate we can but
try. But what are you doing with your axe?" says he to the rover.
"I am off to die with Odin," said the rover.
XVIII. - THE TOUCHSTONE.
THE King was a man that stood well before the world; his smile was
sweet as clover, but his soul withinsides was as little as a pea.
He had two sons; and the younger son was a boy after his heart, but
the elder was one whom he feared. It befell one morning that the
drum sounded in the dun before it was yet day; and the King rode
with his two sons, and a brave array behind them. They rode two
hours, and came to the foot of a brown mountain that was very
- supposed [sə´pəuzd]
a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词) - ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- instantly [´instəntli] ad.立即，立刻 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- bubble [´bʌbəl] n.水泡 vi.冒泡；沸腾 (初中英语单词)
- convert [kən´və:t, ´kɔnvə:t] v.转变 n.改变信仰者 (初中英语单词)
- henceforth [´hens´fɔ:θ] ad.今后；从今以后 (初中英语单词)
- swimmer [´swimə] n.游泳者 (初中英语单词)
- reward [ri´wɔ:d] n.&v.报答；报酬；奖赏 (初中英语单词)
- eternal [i´tə:nəl] a.永远的；永恒的 (初中英语单词)
- priest [pri:st] n.教士；牧师；神父 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- prevail [pri´veil] vi.胜(过)；流行；普遍 (初中英语单词)
- miracle [´mirəkl] n.奇迹；令人惊奇的 (初中英语单词)
- pledge [pledʒ] n.信物；誓约vt.使发誓 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- affectionate [ə´fekʃənit] a.亲爱的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- missionary [´miʃənəri] a.传教(士)的 n.传教士 (高中英语单词)
- ladder [´lædə] n.梯子；阶梯 (高中英语单词)
- bandage [´bændidʒ] n.绷带 vt.用绷带包扎 (高中英语单词)
- confession [kən´feʃən] n.招供；认错；交待 (高中英语单词)
- gladly [´glædli] ad.愉快地，高兴地 (高中英语单词)
- peacock [´pi:kɔk] n.(雄)孔雀 vi.炫耀 (高中英语单词)
- loyalty [´lɔiəlti] n.忠诚；忠心；忠实 (高中英语单词)
- shrine [ʃrain] n.神龛；神殿；圣地 (高中英语单词)
- heavenly [´hevənli] a.天的，天空的 (高中英语单词)
- clover [´kləuvə] n.三叶草 (高中英语单词)
- flaming [´fleimiŋ] a.熊熊燃烧的；热情的 (英语四级单词)
- deceit [di´si:t] n.欺骗 (英语四级单词)
- bridegroom [´braidgru:m] n.新郎 (英语四级单词)
- pilgrimage [´pilgrimidʒ] n.朝圣；远游；人生历程 (英语四级单词)
- virtuous [´və:tjuəs] a.道德的；善良的 (英语四级单词)
- befell [bi´fel] befall的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
