forth his apologia and autobiography over the dwindling wine。
〃He had been sent to Cambridge with a view to a mathematical
and scientific； rather than a classical or literary； career。
A starless nihilism was then the philosophy of the schools；
and it bred in him a war between the members and the spirit；
but one in which the members were right。 While his brain
accepted the black creed； his very body rebelled against it。
As he put it； his right hand taught him terrible things。
As the authorities of Cambridge University put it； unfortunately；
it had taken the form of his right hand flourishing a loaded
firearm in the very face of a distinguished don； and driving
him to climb out of the window and cling to a waterspout。
He had done it solely because the poor don had professed
in theory a preference for non…existence。 For this
very unacademic type of argument he had been sent down。
Vomiting as he was with revulsion； from the pessimism that had
quailed under his pistol； he made himself a kind of fanatic
of the joy of life。 He cut across all the associations
of serious…minded men。 He was gay； but by no means careless。
His practical jokes were more in earnest than verbal ones。
Though not an optimist in the absurd sense of maintaining that
life is all beer and skittles； he did really seem to maintain
that beer and skittles are the most serious part of it。
‘What is more immortal；' he would cry； ‘than love and war？
Type of all desire and joybeer。 Type of all battle
and conquestskittles。'
〃There was something in him of what the old world called
the solemnity of revelswhen they spoke of ‘solemnizing'
a mere masquerade or wedding banquet。 Nevertheless he was not
a mere pagan any more than he was a mere practical joker。
His eccentricities sprang from a static fact of faith；
in itself mystical； and even childlike and Christian。
〃‘I don't deny；' he said； ‘that there should be priests to remind
men that they will one day die。 I only say that at certain
strange epochs it is necessary to have another kind of priests；
called poets； actually to remind men that they are not dead yet。
The intellectuals among whom I moved were not even alive enough
to fear death。 They hadn't enough blood in them to be cowards。
Until a pistol barrel was poked under their very noses they never
even knew they had been born。 For ages looking up an eternal
perspective it might be true that life is a learning to die。
But for these little white rats it was just as true that death
was their only chance of learning to live。'
〃His creed of wonder was Christian by this absolute test； that he felt
it continually slipping from himself as much as from others。
He had the same pistol for himself； as Brutus said of the dagger。
He continually ran preposterous risks of high precipice or headlong
speed to keep alive the mere conviction that he was alive。
He treasured up trivial and yet insane details that had once
reminded him of the awful subconscious reality。 When the don
had hung on the stone gutter； the sight of his long dangling legs；
vibrating in the void like wings； somehow awoke the naked satire
of the old definition of man as a two…legged animal without feathers。
The wretched professor had been brought into peril by his head；
which he had so elaborately cultivated； and only saved
by his legs； which he had treated with coldness and neglect。
Smith could think of no other way of announcing or recording this；
except to send a telegram to an old friend （by this time a
total stranger） to say that he had just seen a man with two legs；
and that the man was alive。
〃The uprush of his released optimism burst into stars like a rocket
when he suddenly fell in love。 He happened to be shooting a high
and very headlong weir in a canoe； by way of proving to himself
that he was alive； and he soon found himself involved in some doubt
about the continuance of the fact。 What was worse； he found he had
equally jeopardized a harmless lady alone in a rowing…boat； and one
who had provoked death by no professions of philosophic negation。
He apologized in wild gasps through all his wild wet labours to bring
her to the shore； and when he had done so at last； he seems to have
proposed to her on the bank。 Anyhow； with the same impetuosity
with which he had nearly murdered her； he completely married her；
and she was the lady in green to whom I had recently and ‘good…night。'
〃They had settled down in these high narrow houses
near Highbury。 Perhaps； indeed； that is hardly the word。
One could strictly say that Smith was married； that he was very
happily married； that he not only did not care for any woman
but his wife； but did not seem to care for any place but his home；
but perhaps one could hardly say that he had settled down。
‘I am a very domestic fellow；' he explained with gravity；
‘and have often come in through a broken window rather than be
late for tea。'
〃He lashed his soul with laughter to prevent it falling asleep。
He lost his wife a series of excellent servants by knocking at
the door as a total stranger； and asking if Mr。 Smith lived there
and what kind of a man he was。 The London general servant is not
used to the master indulging in such transcendental ironies。
And it was found impossible to explain to her that he did it in order
to feel the same interest in his own affairs that he always felt
in other people's。
〃‘I know there's a fellow called Smith；' he said in his rather
weird way； ‘living in one of the tall houses in this terrace。
I know he is really happy； and yet I can never catch him at it。'
〃Sometimes he would； of a sudden； treat his wife with a kind of paralyzed
politeness； like a young stranger struck with love at first sight。
Sometimes he would extend this poetic fear to the very furniture；
would seem to apologize to the chair he sat on； and climb the staircase
as cautiously as a cragsman； to renew in himself the sense of their skeleton
of reality。 Every stair is a ladder and every stool a leg； he said。
And at other times he would play the stranger exactly in the opposite sense；
and would enter by another way； so as to feel like a thief and a robber。
He would break and violate his own home； as he had done with me that night。
It was near morning before I could tear myself from this queer confidence
of the Man Who Would Not Die； and as I shook hands with him on the doorstep
the last load of fog was lifting； and rifts of daylight revealed the stairway
of irregular street levels that looked like the end of the world。
〃It will be enough for many to say that I had passed a night with a maniac。
What other term； it will be said； could be applied to such a being？
A man who reminds himself that he is married by pretending not to be married！
A man who tries to covet his own goods instead of his neighbor's！ On
this I have but one word to say； and I feel it of my honour to say it；
though no one understands。 I believe the maniac was one of those who
do not merely come； but are sent； sent like a great gale upon ships
by Him who made His angels winds and His messengers a flaming fire。
This； at least； I know for certain。 Whether such men have laughed
or wept； we have laughed at their laughter as much as at their weeping。
Whether they cursed or blessed the world； they have never fitted it。
It is true that men have shrunk from the sting of a great satirist
as if from the sting of an adder。 But it is equally true that men flee
from the embrace of a great optimist as from the embrace of a bear。
Nothing brings down more curses than a real benediction。
For the goodness of good things； like the badness of bad things；
is a prodigy past speech； it is to be pictured rather than spoken。
We shall have gone deeper than the deeps of heaven and grown older than
the oldest angels before we feel； even in its first faint vibrations；
the everlasting violence of that double passion with which God hates
and loves the world。I am； yours faithfully；
〃Raymond Percy。〃
〃Oh； 'oly； 'oly； 'oly！〃 said Mr。 Moses Gould。
The instant he had spoken all the rest knew they had been
in an almost religious state of submission and assent。
Something had bound them together； something in the sacred tradition
of the last two words of the letter； something also in the touching
and boyish embarrassment with which Inglewood had read them
for he had all the thin…skinned reverence of the agnostic。
Moses Gould was as good a fellow in his way as ever lived；
far kinder to his family than more refined men of pleasure；
simple and steadfast in his admiration； a thoroughly wholesome
animal and a thoroughly genuine character。 But wherever there
is conflict； crises come in which any soul； personal or racial；
unconsciously turns on the world the most hateful of its hundred faces。
English reverence； Irish mysticism； American idealism；
looked up and saw on the face of Moses a certain smile。
It was that smile of the Cynic Triumphant； which has been the tocsin
for many a cruel riot in Russian villages or mediaeval towns。
〃Oh； 'oly； 'oly； 'oly！〃 said Moses Gould。
Finding that this was not well received； he explained further；
exuberance deepenin