The Crock of Gold by James Stephens (simple ebook reader txt) 📖

cattle came to her again, but recognizably now. She knew the thing which the wind had whispered in the sloping field and for which she had no name—it was Happiness. Faintly she shadowed it forth, but yet she could not see it. It was only a pearl-pale wraith, almost formless, too tenuous to be touched by her hands, and too aloof to be spoken to. Pan had told her that he was the giver of happiness, but he had given her only unrest and fever and a longing which could not be satisfied. Again there was a want, and she could not formulate, or even realize it with any closeness. Her new-born Thought had promised everything, even as Pan, and it had given—she could not say that it had given her nothing or anything. Its limits were too quickly divinable. She had found the Tree of Knowledge, but about on every side a great wall soared blackly enclosing her in from the Tree of Life—a wall which her thought was unable to surmount even while instinct urged that it must topple before her advance; but instinct may not advance when thought has schooled it in the science of unbelief; and this wall will not be conquered until Thought and Instinct are wed, and the first son of that bridal will be called The Scaler of the Wall.

So, after the quiet weariness of ignorance, the unquiet weariness of thought had fallen upon her. That travail of mind which, through countless generations, has throed to the birth of an ecstasy, the prophecy which humanity has sworn must be fulfilled, seeing through whatever mists and doubtings the vision of a gaiety wherein the innocence of the morning will not any longer be strange to our maturity.

While she was so thinking Pan returned, a little disheartened that he had found no person to listen to his pipings. He had been seated but a little time when suddenly, from without, a chorus of birds burst into joyous singing. Limpid and liquid cadenzas, mellow flutings, and the sweet treble of infancy met and danced and piped in the airy soundings. A round, soft tenderness of song rose and fell, broadened and soared, and then the high flight was snatched, eddied a moment, and was borne away to a more slender and wonderful loftiness, until, from afar, that thrilling song turned on the very apex of sweetness, dipped steeply and flashed its joyous return to the exultations of its mates below, rolling an ecstasy of song which for one moment gladdened the whole world and the sad people who moved thereon; then the singing ceased as suddenly as it began, a swift shadow darkened the passage, and Angus Og came into the cave.

Caitilin sprang from her seat Frighted, and Pan also made a half movement towards rising, but instantly sank back again to his negligent, easy posture.

The god was slender and as swift as a wind. His hair swung about his face like golden blossoms. His eyes were mild and dancing and his lips smiled with quiet sweetness. About his head there flew perpetually a ring of singing birds, and when he spoke his voice came sweetly from a centre of sweetness.

“Health to you, daughter of Murrachu,” said he, and he sat down.

“I do not know you, sir,” the terrified girl whispered.

“I cannot be known until I make myself known,” he replied. “I am called Infinite Joy, O daughter of Murrachu, and I am called Love.”

The girl gazed doubtfully from one to the other.

Pan looked up from his pipes.

“I also am called Love,” said he gently, “and I am called Joy.”

Angus Og looked for the first time at Pan.

“Singer of the Vine,” said he, “I know your names-they are Desire and Fever and Lust and Death. Why have you come from your own place to spy upon my pastures and my quiet fields?”

Pan replied mildly.

“The mortal gods move by the Immortal Will, and, therefore, I am here.”

“And I am here,” said Angus.

“Give me a sign,” said Pan, “that I must go.”

Angus Og lifted his hand and from without there came again the triumphant music of the birds.

“It is a sign,” said he, “the voice of Dana speaking in the air,” and, saying so, he made obeisance to the great mother.

Pan lifted his hand, and from afar there came the lowing of the cattle and the thin voices of the goats.

“It is a sign,” said he, “the voice of Demeter speaking from the earth,” and he also bowed deeply to the mother of the world.

Again Angus Og lifted his hand, and in it there appeared a spear, bright and very terrible.

But Pan only said, “Can a spear divine the Eternal Will?” and Angus Og put his weapon aside, and he said: “The girl will choose between us, for the Divine Mood shines in the heart of man.”

Then Caitilin Ni Murrachu came forward and sat between the gods, but Pan stretched out his hand and drew her to him, so that she sat resting against his shoulder and his arm was about her body.

“We will speak the truth to this girl,” said Angus Og.

“Can the gods speak otherwise?” said Pan, and he laughed with delight.

“It is the difference between us,” replied Angus Og. “She will judge.”

“Shepherd Girl,” said Pan, pressing her with his arm, “you will judge between us. Do you know what is the greatest thing in the world?—because it is of that you will have to judge.”

“I have heard,” the girl replied, “two things called the greatest things. You,” she continued to Pan, “said it was Hunger, and long ago my father said that Commonsense was the greatest thing in the world.”

“I have not told you,” said Angus Og, “what I consider is the greatest thing in the world.”

“It is your right to speak,” said Pan.

“The greatest thing in the world,” said Angus Og, “is the Divine Imagination.”

“Now,” said Pan, “we know all the greatest things and we can talk of them.”

“The daughter of Murrachu,” continued Angus Og, “has told us what you think and what her father thinks, but she has not told us what she thinks herself. Tell us, Caitilin Ni Murrachu, what you think is the greatest thing in the world.”

So Caitilin Ni Murrachu thought for a few moments and then replied timidly.

“I think that Happiness is the greatest thing in the world,” said she.

Hearing this they sat in silence for a little time, and then Angus Og spoke again “The Divine Imagination may only be known through the thoughts of His creatures. A man has said Commonsense and a woman has said Happiness are the greatest things in the world. These things are male and female, for Commonsense is Thought and Happiness is Emotion, and until they embrace in Love the will of Immensity cannot be fruitful. For, behold, there