Complete Works of Ford Madox Ford, page 223
“Perhaps it is as well,” he said slowly. “The priests of a god should be comely and venerable.”
The long canal stretched away into the distance a slate-grey surface with little patches of thin vapour arising beneath the translucent haze, between slate-grey and undistinguished houses and spindly trees whose foliage had no shimmer because of the film of soot that covered each leaf.
“Sir,” Mr. Todd said, “that is a matter in which we shall always differ from you Romanists. Or perhaps you are of the Greek Orthodox Church, which, I believe, prescribes long, curled, and oiled beards upon its clergy. But I was going to say that the attention of a minister — of the clergy in general — is directed rather to the aims of humanity beyond the grave, since we all inherit the heritage of immortality.”
“That is a matter upon which you can teach me nothing,” the stranger said.
“Heaven forbid,” the missionary answered, “that your Highness should suspect me of aiming at proselytism. I am the most tolerant of men.”
“Then you betray your office,” the Prince answered.
Mr. Todd did not wish to answer this accusation, for be was aware that in stating he had no desire to proselytise he had done himself an injustice. Nothing would have pleased him better than the conversion at his hands of foreign princes. He eluded the matter with the words —
“Of course I agree with your Highness that in order to bring men to a state of spiritual efficiency it is necessary to have a care for their actions in this world. I am not, I assure you, a member of the namby-pamby school that thinks a man’s eyes should be for ever on the great hereafter. A small good action will outweigh many long prayers. But the aspirations of this nation are summed up in the what, you must be aware, is our national proverb.”
“I should be glad to hear your national proverb,” the stranger said. “And it would commend itself to me if you would confine yourself for the moment to the subjects which I am sure you best understand, so that our converse may be conducted in a seemly and orderly series.”
“Obviously,” the missionary assented. He cleared his throat.
“Our national proverb,” he said, “is expressed in the words, ‘England expects that every man will do his duty.’”
The stranger, standing on the peak of the bridge, looked back at the crowd that, serried and jostling, in the narrow space between the traffic and the house-fronts, appeared like a section of dark and troubled fluid in a test tube, so sharply did the peopling end and the solitude begin.
“So is Egathistotheopompus confuted,” the stranger said.
“I do not quite take you,” the missionary said.
“Surely you are acquainted with the writings of that philosopher to whom the Hyrcanians gave the name of the Crown, holding that each of his writings was a leaf on the laurel crown of philosophy.”
“Why no!” the missionary answered.
“Truly,” the stranger said, “we say well when we say that short is the memory of mortal men!”
“Now Herbert Spencer...” the missionary interrupted.
“Egathistotheopompus forgotten!” the stranger said. “Sir, it is true that with the oncoming of the worship accorded to the Jewish Messiah, the cult of the Hellenic deities retreated into remote regions; and did not the gods themselves retire from high Olympus to regions infinitely more remote? But Egathistotheopompus forgotten! You spoke truly when you said that the destination of humanity and its aspirations is the grave!” He surveyed again the crowd, interrupted in his meditations by a little boy holding a pinkish sheet who, seeing them standing still, darted beneath the nose of a cab-horse, evaded a taxi-cab as if, like a bird, by no known sense, and arriving almost on their feet screamed —
“E — e — e — pie — er! ‘Ere y’ar, sir! All the winners!” He held out a pinkish and flimsy sheet with the attitude of one soliciting alms.
The stranger looked down upon the little, gnome-like, eager face, dusky with neglect of ablutions, and with white teeth gleaming in the protruded lower jaw, at about the level of his own thigh.
“Now, what aspired-to duty does this little microcosm of your so ideal republic fulfil?” he asked indulgently, “for never have I seen messenger so eager, or that more deserved recompense.”
“All the winners I” came shrilly from the tiny jaws.
“That” Mr. Todd said, “is a social evil.”
The stranger inserted his delicate fingers into his waistcoat pocket.
“I do not know,” he said, “what that may imply. But I — am certain that not Sparta herself bred urchins so hardy, and I am satisfied that this boy’s feat in crossing between those carriages is that thing that most has satisfied my senses since I came to this city.”
He produced from his pocket two sovereigns which he fingered between index and thumb. “Little boy,” he said, “I do not know if this is great wealth or little, or how long it shall avail you. But this I know, that the gold of man lasteth but a very little time. Take, however, these two coins from one to whom you have given pleasure.”
The missionary regarded him with spectacles in which there shone at once, as it were, an official horror and an inward satisfaction. It was due to his position to express horror at reckless and prodigal almsgiving — but this princely alms confirmed his views as to the princely nature of his companion.
The little boy held out his hand with a quick gesture towards the coins — but seeing that they were gold, he withdrew it as quickly.
“And considering,” the stranger said, “how short shall be the pleasure this gold shall bring you — since you have given me pleasure I will wish you a gift more lasting. I will wish you a voice that shall not repel and such a face as shall attract your patrons. Utter again your cry!”
The little boy said —
“E — ee — ng — pi — er!” and kept held out the hand towards the coins.
“He has quite a nice voice,” Mr. Todd said. “If you would like it I might find a place for him in my reclaimed juveniles’ choir. He has a good little face.”
“I think it is you that will profit by it,” the stranger said, “for he will sing well the praises of a God and will adorn all rites. Take now these coins, little boy.”
The little boy’s white teeth shone all across his face.
“Straight, guv’nor?” he implored, and there was, at the prospect of this wealth, a note of adoration in his voice and attitude. “My I tike ‘em? Ye won’t sy I pinched ‘em? Wot’d any bloomin’ copper fink as see me wid ‘em?”
“Child,” the stranger said, “since you are the first mortal in this city to pay me real homage, surely I will attend to it that no harm comes to you from my gift.”
“Take the money the Prince offers you,” the missionary said. “I will see to it that the police do not interfere with you. What is your name? You know me?”
“Liverlonger Sal Cunn, Glaws Strit, Padd’nton. You’re the bloomin’ mijjunary. My ole man ‘e ses’ e’d like to do you in, and ‘e’ll do it one die.”
The missionary squared his shoulders.
“Two can play at that game, my lad,” he said.
“You mean,” the stranger asked, “that you will meet this boy’s father in combat and not call the policeman to your aid?”
The little boy had taken the two coins into his palm, and with a high-pitched “Crikey!” he darted, dodged, was round the corner of the coffee-stall that stood, closed up, at the end of the bridge. He vanished, indeed, so swiftly and was so low on the ground that it was as if be had sunk into the pavement. “Your Highness,” the missionary said, “I consider that I owe no little of my ascendancy over the people in my district to an hour’s practice that I take twice a week with Hiram Miggs, the converted heavy-weight. With such a man as that lad’s father I should try persuasion first. But in the event...”
“Minister,” the stranger said gravely, “I wonder to what extent you or the White Christ whom you worship are the wiser. For did not the Christ bid you render the other cheek to the smiter?”
They were walking by then past some huge buildings whose red bricks were begrimed with soot and whose white facing-stones were grown grey. Prosperous men, with umbrellas, silk hats, and bags, alighted from buses and ran up the steps of the forecourts, but there was little impediment to their walking straight or conversing equably.
“I take your Highness to be a Mohammedan from your saying ‘the White Christ whom you worship,’” the missionary said. “Therefore you are probably unacquainted with the term ‘muscular Christianity’ !”
“I am aware of its significance,” the stranger said. “But let us consider for a moment. If you beat this lad’s father, you will win the applause of — you will even win the ascendancy over — such suffrages as the man represents. But for what will you be honoured? For just such physical superiority as was worshipped before the Christ came with his mild rule. How, then, will you establish Christianity in the hearts of these people?”
“Sir,” Mr. Todd said, “these things must be done step by step. The first thing is to reduce the people to order and decency.”
“Of that I should not be so sure,” the stranger said, “were it not that you have assured me of the almost incredible thing that each soul of the mighty crowd that we have passed through is inspired by your proverbial saying. For assuredly a crowd, each member of which recollects daily and hourly — for that I take to be your meaning — each soul of which recollects that his nation keeps, as it were, her eyes upon him and awaits of him that he shall perform thoroughly his function in the republic — for you have said that each of these men remembers that England expects him to do his duty, and that I take to be the thorough performance of his function in the republic — then I say a crowd, a city, a nation...”
“Sir, sir!” the missionary brought out, overwhelmed at this torrent of phrase.
“Permit me,” his companion said, “to develop my argument, for it redounds to your own credit.”
Mr. Todd, however, was more intent upon a personal interest. The next turning would take them down to his own house, and it would be the moment of his life if he could persuade a real prince to enter his doors. At the corner, therefore, he halted. The stranger, however, continued his speech. It was to the effect that, since this commonwealth had developed such high aspirations in its units, and since that development had taken place under the auspices of muscular Christianity, that cult, which Mr. Todd so efficiently represented, must be justified of its existence. Thus the Founder of that religion might contestably be held to be less wise than these his followers. For Christ Jesus, the stranger said, would have preferred to set an example of meekness. It was he that turned not his back to them that smote him, in the belief, in the assurance, that these too, ultimately, or the children of their children’s children, would by this example be turned towards meekness and the love of their fellows.
“You, it seems to me,” the stranger said, “have confuted Egathistotheopompus upon lines different indeed from those of his great predecessor and victor.”
Egathistotheopompus, it appears, had been a philosopher much esteemed by such worshippers of the heathen deities as remained in the outer parts of the Roman Empire during the fifth century. His works, however, presumably had perished during the burning of the library at Constantinople, for of them no trace remained. He it was who especially had promulgated the theory that mankind was not perfectible, but moved in cycles, that there had been a Golden Day in Egypt that declined, till in Athens the wheel of humanity was again exalted, and so in Rome, and so doubtless onwards into the unknown future and back into the unchronicled past.
“But you,” the stranger said, “have proved to me by your assertions that this is the perfect republic, or nearer it than even Athens was. And that little boy has proved to my own eyes that you stand, in the least, as high as Lacedaemon. For the Spartans set all their energies to producing hardihood among children.”
Their standing at the corner, Mr. Todd was painfully aware, attracted the attention of the conductors of the several buses that turned down the by-street or continued up the main road. One of them even asked, “Where do you want to go to?” And Mr. Todd was sufficiently lately come from the country to dislike being taken for a provincial. He was, moreover, more than ever eager to induce the stranger to come under his roof. Therefore, at last, taking advantage of a full stop, he interrupted deferentially with —
“This is all very interesting, but the public street is hardly the place in which to discuss. Besides, talking is dry work....” He tittered a little at this sally, which he attempted to utter in a voice of respectful frivolity.
His interlocutor looked at him with blank but introspective eyes.
“I have been accustomed to think that men considered public places as very proper places for discussion. Thus you will remember that, according to Plato, Socrates was very willing to hold contentions in the Athenian market-place.” He paused and then uttered, “But perhaps you have never heard of Socrates, nor of Plato, nor yet of Athens?”
Mr. Todd laughed a little uneasily.
“Of course, of course,” he said, “every one is acquainted with the fact that Socrates drank hemlock, and with the theory of Platonic love.”
“I see,” his companion said, “that you are better acquainted with the works of Plato than I. For I have never heard of that theory.”
“I have always considered Platonic love as a mere excuse for adultery,” the missionary said.
“Without much doubt you are right,” the stranger said, as if neither Plato nor his theory much interested him. “I have always considered that Plato was the first of the Hellenic atheists.” He paused and then uttered meditatively, “Strange the vicissitudes of human glory.
Egathistotheopompus, the crown of gold, forgotten, and the works of Plato, the feet of clay, on the lips of all men. In their day Plato and his Socrates were little esteemed, and Egathistotheopompus...” He broke off, however, to utter, “But I perceive, sir, that you are full of anxiety that I should visit your house, and since it pleases me that you should be so anxious, I will very willingly accompany you there.”
Mr. Todd was by this time a little weary. He was so much more accustomed to laying down the law to criminals and little waifs — a process in which easily he followed the train of his own thoughts — that to keep pace with the ideas of this stranger was as difficult as for a stout man to accompany up a rough hillside an accustomed mountaineer. He proposed, therefore, that they should accomplish the short remains of their journey in a horse bus which would drop them within a stone’s throw of their house. The extraordinary rattle and vibration of this vehicle as it passed over a road ruined by the traffic of automobiles rendered conversation almost impossible. Mr. Todd made shift, however, to shout that he was afraid the Prince would find his appointments not such as those to which he had been accustomed. The voice of the Prince came to him in return extraordinarily clear, and penetrating the noise of wheels and vibrating windows.
“It is, as you should be aware,” he said, “my nature to feel no discomforts, and all places, appointments, and food are as one to me. It is only the cheerfulness of the giver that, according as it is great or little, gives me great or little pleasure.”
And the missionary thought that this indeed was the true princely attitude, and he wondered if he had not shown himself snobbish in proffering apologies.
CHAPTER V
MR. TODD occupied an “upper part” in a great stucco house. His street occupied the one side of a triangle that enclosed a garden common to all the houses. At the apex of the triangle there was a church in the shape of a huge jewel casket, and the whole neighbourhood was of grey stucco and grey bricks with slate roofs. Being there one had the impression of wandering lost for ever in a labyrinth of grey and indistinguishable streets, without a landmark, a monument, or any public building by which one might guide one’s steps. There were no shops, no public-houses, no apparent main roads; crescents whirled and twisted, streets with unrememberable names ran straight for short and baffling distances.
But, such as it was, in this district Mr. Todd — since he had lived there ever since his first arrival in the metropolis — felt himself thoroughly at home. Here such friends as he had mostly resided — and he had many friends, Scotsmen for the most part, but a good sprinkling of them English professional men, and one or two of them Jews who were interested in societies such as Mr. Todd aided.
It was with the thought of these men, whom he might meet or who might be looking out of their windows, that Mr. Todd glanced with agreeable emotions at his companion. Afterwards he would be able to say —
“Ah, yes! That was the Prince you saw me with.”
Yet — but for the fact that this was so very obviously a prince — Mr. Todd would have been a little perturbed by him on account of his almost too great physical perfection. His limbs, moulded with a sinuous grace, seemed to fold their muscles one into another with the tensile and serpentine grace that is to be seen in the limbs of the great cats at the Zoological Gardens. His round head was set on his shoulders not so much erectly and stiffly as are the heads of those Englishmen you would call “well set up,” as to meet with the suavest curves at the junction of the neck. He walked, in fact, so easily and buoyantly that it was as if he sat a horse — and this was disturbing. For Mr. Todd was extremely fond of Turkish baths; he said to himself that he took them for his health; but, subconsciously, he was aware that he loved them for the sense of lassitude and utter rest. And the only figure that he had ever seen comparable to that of the Prince was that of the Oriental attendant, who had such sinuous and intertwining, visible, muscles, in the shampooing rooms that he frequented. And because this image was connected in his mind with ideas of sensual enjoyments Mr. Todd was uneasy at the view of his prince.
He paused on his doorstep to blow into his latchkey — his invariable custom — and he informed the Prince that the Servant Question was responsible for the fall in the type of tenant that these great houses sheltered.
