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■ 


The 


^m 


Island 


j^M 


O 


^ 


of ^ 


Anarchy i 



"The Island of Anarchy. 



v. 



'V 



A 



The Island of 
Anarchy. 

A Fragment of History in 
the 20th Century. 

BY 

E. W. 

** Bind thyself with one cord.** 




PUBLISHED BY MISS LANGLEY, 
lovejoy's library, reading. 



1887. 



THE ISLAND OF 
ANARCHY. 

Chapter I. 

''As for my particular, I am 
verily perswaded, that since thai 
age (thirtie yeares), both my 
spirit and my body have more 
decreased than encreased, inore 
recoyled than advanced. It may 
be that knowledge and expe- 
rience shall encrease in them, 
together with life, that bestow 
their time well : but vivacitie, 
promptitude, constancie, and 
other parts much more our owne, 
more important, and more es- 
sentiall, they droope, they lan- 
guish, and they faint." — Mon- 
taigne {Florio's translation). 

'HE ending of tbe 
nineteenth cen- 
tury, lik^ that of 
the eighteenth, 
was a time of terrible and 
«; A 2 




4 

: were ' 



strange things, as if it were 
coming to be the law of 
human affairs that the sun- 
sets of the centuries should 
be red with a " Terror" and 
and dark with despair. 

In England— then, as in 
the past, the refuge of ba- 
nished men— social disor- 
der reached a height that 
would soon have driven all 
her quiet dwellers to seek 
more peaceful homes on 
the other side of the globe, 
had not a new and strange 
thing changed the whole 
aspect of affairs. 

It began Co be perceived, 
and was soon widely ac- 
knowledged, that the cause 
of the great weakness and 
futility of our government: 
lay in the advanced age of 



those by whom the most 
important offices were held. 
Age is wont to trifle, to 
take things lightly, and to 
study life, of which it can 
at best hope to possess so 
little, from a frivolous And 
temporary point of view. 

" Things are well enough 
as they are," say they; " a 
little tinkering here, a little 
fancy legislation there, and 
they will last our time; 
meanwhile, let us hear our- 
selves talk." 

The only wonder now 
seemed that the world had 
been so slow to perceive 
this, that it had taken the 
human race so many thou- 
sand years to discover a 
truth which now seemed as 
simple and patent as the 
7 



converse one, that it would 
not be wise to entrust grave 
affairs to children in their 
first decade. 

And so the younger men 
of England, by a sudden 
and united effort at the 
general election of 19 — , se- 
cured the return of a House 
of Commons containing no 
man over the age of thirty- 
five, and no woman: (for 
women had begun to come 
in and to make matters 
worse^. 

This House of Com- 
mons, strong, in earnest for 
real work, and not divided 
by Party, that frivolous 
pastime of politicians who 
were too old for other 
games^ passed without diffi- 
culty a wise "superannua- 
8 



tion law. " And the govern- 
ment of the country, thus 
at last able to govern in- 
deed, made the almost 
foundering ship of our un- 
happy State once mote an- 
swer to the helmy and 
steered for that haven of 
peaceful order and i^ettled 
rule which men remem- 
bered sadly as a lost Para- 
dise or longed for as 
an undiscoverable "Atlan- 
tis." 

That laws are made to be 
obeyed had glided in those 
days from the place of a 
truism into that of a fallacy. 
It was the first principle 
of the new Cabinet. 

To two classes this prin- 
ciple had to be made clear 
—Criminals, or law-break- 



ers; Anarchists, or law- 
deniers. 

Of the first of these we 
will speak first. It will now 
hardly be believed that 
there existed at that time in 
England what were called 
*' the Criminal Classes " — 
' thousands of men, women, 
and children known to be 
living in the continual com- 
mission of crime, as other 
people are engaged in com- 
merce, husbandry, and the 
like, spending much of 
their time in prison, and 
never doing or desiring any 
honest work. 

This state of things the 
young government set 
themselves to bring to an 
end. 

Instead of progressing 

lo 



' ^\ . 



towards that universal slip- 
shod leniency which the 
philanthropists of an earlier 
time had set before them- 
selves as a goal — ^with capi- 
tal punishment evaded for 
awhile and eventually abo- 
lished, — these rulers, with 
all the ruthless severity of 
youth, extended the area 
of crimes punishable by 
death. To those whose 
lives were hurtful tathe in^- 
nocent community,- mercy 
could only be shown, so they 
held,at the expense of those 
to whom mercy, that is, pro- 
tection, was really due. 
Not only all who com- 
passed, or even attempted 
the lives of others, but all 
who after repeated smaller 
punishments still lived the 
II 



■«i 



lives of evildoers, were 
counted unworthy longer 
to live, — ^and this without 
any attempted distinction 
of sane or insane, — the exis- 
tence of the latter being 
considered even more hope- 
lessly injurious to the State 
than that of the former, 
and, on the other hand, less 
valuable to themselves. 

But while the punish- 
ment of death was certain 
and frequent, it was no 
longer inflicted in the bar- 
barous manner which con- 
tinued, a ghastly anachro- 
nism, dxrough the reign of 
the tender-hearted Victoria. 

Those whose lives were 
forfeit were placed for a 
time — ^the length of which 
depended on various cir- 

12 



cumstances — ^in a place of 
solemn sequestration, to 
the care of which a society 
of holy men and women 
devoted their existence, 
and which was placed 
rather imder the authority 
of the Church than of the 
State. The State, indeed, 
had done with them ; they 
were already cut off from 
their place as citizens ; it 
only remained for the 
Church to lead them with 
kind hand through paths of 
penitence and prayer to the 
door of a new life, a new 
hope — ^where this was pos- 
sible. With some, with 
many perhaps, the soul 
seemed already dead be- 
fore the body. 
When the time came, sur- 
13 B 



rouDded by a soious com- 
pany of the "Brethren of 
Death," whose prayers and 
solema hymns made the 
last moments beautiful to 
those who were tepentant, 
and awful to those who 
were hardened, the con- 
demned drank an opiate, 
which closed their eyes in 
a painless sleep from which 
there was no waking, while 
those about them still 
prayed far the departing 
spirit on its way to a higher, 
jndgment. 

Beautiiiil histories were 
t(^ of some who in the 
quiet of their cells, aided 
by the gentle ministrations 
of the Brothers and Sisters, 
came to see with an anguish 
of repentance the sinfulness 




of their past, and to rejoice 
in the thought of passing, 
sprinkled with fresh dews 
of penitence and forgive- 
nesS| away from a world 
whose temptations had been 
too strong for them. Of 
their forfeit lives, they made 
a willing sacrifice, and they 
were glad to be allowed to 
lay them down* 

Children who had com- 
mitted crimes, after fitting 
punishment were placed in 
settlements where they were 
kept under strict discipline 
and carefiiUy instructed, 
the rudiments of some use- 
ful art being added to a 
simple education in general 
subjects. Girls were trained 
in household work, a^d all, 
as soon as they were grown 



men and women, were re- 
moved from these settle- 
ments to places where their 
past was unknown, imless 
they showed themselves so 
dyed with their early habits 
and so resolved to return 
to them that this would 
have been harmful to the 
State. 

In these cases, which 
were very few, they were 
treated in the same way as 
the hardened offenders 
of whom I have just 
spoken. 

There were not wanting 
intelligent persons to whom 
the punishment of death 
for a misused life seemed a. 
terrible and even a. wicked 
thing. Yet, not only had 
such punishment been in 




use for just such offences in 
the time of Queen Elizabeth 
and of other sovereigns, but 
at so late a time as the com- 
mencement of the present 
centuiy, war among civi- 
lized nationswasconsidered 
justifiable, and the profes- 
sion of a soldier was even 
held to be a noble and 
Christian calling. The very 
women whose tender hearts 
cridd out against the new 
law would send their young 
sons away with their bless- 
ing to face death in com- 
passing that of other inno- 
cent and unwilling victims 
in a cause for which, often, 
none of them cared. Those 
who thus perished in war, 
believing that it was for 
their country's honour that 
17 B 2 



they fought, were among 
the best and bravest of the 
nation — men to whom dis- 
cipline and order were their 
very breath. Those whom 
the new law excluded from 
life were scarcely worthy 
of the name of men, and 
more hostile to their country 
than any of the soldiers of 
other states. 

This then was the course 
adopted with reference to 
theLaw^Breakers. We must 
now speak of the Law-De- 
niers. Anarchy, Socialism, 
free-land leagues, commu- 
nistic democracy more or 
less indigenous, and every 
shade of Nihilism and Dyna- 
mitism introduced from the 
East and the West, had so 
long had free course that 
i9 



a laige mass of the popula- 
tion had come to believe 
practically that might was 
right, and the problems of 
the earliest stages of bar- 
barism were staring men in 
the face as the products of 
an over-ripe civilization. 

It was true, and the young 
rulers recognized this, that 
much of the discontent of 
the poorer classes had had 
just ground in the indi£fe- 
rence and selfish luxury of 
the rich, but that cause 
was already in great part 
removed, and in two 
ways. 

Women as highly edu- 
cated as men, and now wise 
enough *to see that they 
were made for better things 
than the dust of politicsi 
»9 



turned their thoughts to 
home reforms. Their 
higher standard of principle 
and refinement of taste led 
to a contempt for what was 
gorgeous or costly in dress 
or equipage, food or furni- 
ture, as essentially vulgar, 
or at best barbaric. Thus 
their quiet ways and simple 
attire left little space to be 
bridged over as regards out- 
ward show between them 
and the thrifty women of a 
humbler class, and that 
space was bridged by kind- 
ly intercourse, by know- 
ledge shared, and by the 
ready sympathy which is 
the gift of the highest intel- 
ligence. 

This was one great power 
for good. The other was 



the fact' that so many 
^wners of land had devoted 
large portions of it to sites 
for Industrial Villages, and 
even those who had no sym- 
pathy for the poor or enthu- 
siasm for the good of their 
country, partly for fashion's 
sake, and partly because 
these schemes proved not 
only useful to the poor but 
beneficial to the landowner, 
joined to aid the great work 
of withdrawing the popula- 
tion from the towns into 
the country. 

The gradual disuse of 
steam, with all its dismal 
accompaniments of black- 
ened skies and unlovely 
chimneys, allowed of almost 
all manufactures being car- 
ried on under healthy and 

21 



cheerful conditions. Qd 
every hill, rows of wind- 
mills gathered the force 
which produced electricity 
and stored it for the use of 
the village below ; while by 
every stream, and on every 
shore visited by tides, tibe 
forces of water were in the 
sameway brought into aser^ 
vice which, being no longer 
intermittent, was of perma- 
nent and continuous value. 
Thus the real misery of 
the honest poor in fjigland 
was becoming a thing of 
the past, and die large dass 
<A peo^^ whose stock-in- 
trade was the discontent of 
others became at once more 
reckless and more dangeiv 
ous when, flinging away all 
disguise and separated from 

22 



those whose wrongs had 
lent colour to their schemes, 
they appeared under their 
true flag as the enemies of 
all law and duty, iadustr/ 
and religion. 

The young Cabinet saw 
at once the way to meet 
them. Those who would 
not obey the laws of one 
country must seek a home 
in another. EanishmenI 
seemed at once the mildest 
and the most reasonable 
punishment (if indeed it 
can be so called), — not tran- 
spoitation to some special 
spot, but simply exile from 
England and from all Bri- 
tish dominionsand colonies 
— the Great Federation 
ibp absolutely united in 
T important matter — un- 



der penalty of death if the 
banished returned. 

On conviction the An- 
archist was marked, by an 
indelible brand in apainless 
manner, with a red O in 
sign of outlawry, and re- 
ceived his sentence of ba- 
nishment — and in this way 
some thousands of the dis- 
affected and idle were at 
once removed from our 
shores. 

Some of them were of 
the lowest and most violent 
class, who are naturally 
rude and lawless because 
bound by no inner law 
themselves (though, as has 
been shown, those leading 
an actually criminal life 
were dealt with in other 
ways) ; and associated with 
a4 



them, indignant at the new 
law, and therefore enthu- 
siastically determined to 
share the fate of the exiled, 
were men and women of a 
far higher type, mistaken, 
yet nobly in the wrong. 
Some few were poets, his- 
torians, religious visiona- 
ries, women whose dreams 
of a millennium were based 
on a false notion of the 
origin and essence of law. 
All these last gave them- 
selves up at once, and 
stretched out the right 
hand that had held the pen, 
or blessed the chalice, or 
soothed the dying forehead, 
for the circle in which they 
gloried as a sign of their 
fellowship with the op- 
pressed. 

25 c 



At first the result was, of 
course, that m other coun- 
tries the Anarchists found 
bearers for their doctrines 
and ready adherents to 
their destructive schemes, 
the false notion that law- 
lessness is liberty being 
one readily welcomed by 
the unthinking. But one 
by one the countries to 
which they had fled fol- 
lowed the precedent of 
England, and banished 
from their shores also the 
men and women of the 
red right hand In those 
days the States of Europe 
were already bound in a 
sort of confederation, with 
an International Court in 
which matters of common 
interest were discussed, and 
26 



it was agreed that a place 
must be found for the 
growing nation of outlaws, 
who else might justly plead 
for a home in a law-obey- 
ing state as a mere necessity 
of humanity. 

In the terrible era of vol- 
canic action which began 
about the year 1885 and 
lasted nearly half a century, 
many coasts and islands 
had been submerged, with 
great loss of human life 
and of the results of human 
industry. Among others 
the beautiful Island of Me- 
liora in the South Pacific 
had been the scene of the 
sudden formation of a vol- 
cano and of a fearful erup- 
tion. It seemed as if the 
whole heart of the Island 

47 



were poured for many 
days and nights into the 
sultry sky, and then sank 
into the sea and was seen 
no more. 

After a period of several 
years, the captain of a mer- 
chant vessel looking with 
his corrected chart for the 
circle of coral reef which 
marked the place of the 
lost Island, saw with wonder 
Meliora re-arisen from the 
sea, crowned by the wide 
crater of its fatal mountain 
and already clothed with 
brilliant vegetation. It 
would seem strange that 
its re-appearance had not 
been noticed by other ves- 
sels, as the trees upon it 
showed that it must have 
been some years above 
28 



water, but this will not ap- 
pear remarkable when it is 
known that no ordinary 
course for vessels carried 
them within sight of the 
Island, and that the new 
reefs which had been raised 
around it by the action of 
the volcano were so dan- 
gerous that captains who 
entered those seas avoided 
their neighbourhood. The 
line of coral reef which en- 
circled the Island had not 
sunk more than a few feet, 
hence the thick growth of 
Coco-palms that covered it 
had not been submerged, 
and no doubt directly Me- 
liora arose from the waves 
seeds from these would at 
once begin to take root 
and make rapid growth in 
29 2 



that wonderful soil and cli- 
mate. 

When the captain of the 
« Ville d'ls," driven out of 
his way by adverse winds, 
saw the wonder of the re- 
stored land, it was at the 
moment of perplexity of 
which I have spoken as to 
where the outlawed nation 
should find a home. 

It was at once resolved 
by the united governments 
of Europe that they should 
be offered transport to this 
Island — ^an offer which the 
most part gladly accepted, 
chased as they had been 
from country to country, 
and very weary of their 
wandering. 

Indeed, what other chance 
remained for them, since 
30 



.^^ 



to enter any civilized coun- 
try, any country governed 
by settled rule of law, was 
to die ? 

From all points of the 
compass ships with various 
flags entered the circle of 
reefs that surrounded Me- 
liora, and set down their 
strange passengers on that 
beautiful shore. 

A land large enough for 
all, fertile as a garden of 
romance, perfect in climate, 
and abounding in all they 
could need for food, cloth- 
ing and shelter, what more 
could the outlaws desire ? 



-^^i^ 



31 



Chapter II. 

''Exile is when a man is for 
a crime condemned to depart out 
of the dominion of the commcm- 
wealth, or out of a certain JMUt 
thereof, and during a preued 
time, or for ever, not to retam 
to it ; and seemeth not in its 
own nature, without other cir- 
cumstances, to be a punishment ; 
but rather an escape, or a public 
commandment to ayoid punish- 
ment by flight. " — HoBBE'sZmM- 
tha$u 

HE first to land 
in Meliora were 
a company of 
English Socia- 
lists, with whom a few of 
the best who so called them- 
3* 




selves were carqiul to cast 
in their lot These were 
men of forethought and re- 
source, and the truth that 
the circumstances of men 
are made by their inner 
natures was never more 
clearly seen than in the 
difference which soon ap- 
peared in the homes of the 
new settlers. The leader 
of this elect company was 
an old Scholar who in 
his younger days had dis- 
tinguished himself in many 
ways, but, from a genuine 
belief that the medicine of 
a sick world lay in a socia- 
list creed, had laid aside all 
that had gained him fame 
and credit for tlus one 
dream, and sealed his 
choice with the brand. 

33 



To him in his old age, 
after years of desolate wan- 
derings, the thought of a 
home in a new Atlantis 
was welcome indeed, — the 
soft sweet air of the south- 
em seas, the beautiful vege- 
tation and strange fantastic 
story of the Island awakened 
the old poetic feelings of 
his youth, and it seemed 
as if his mission to the 
world would here meet ful- 
filment and find its lost 
harmony with the earlier 
longings of his genius and 
fancy. 

Through his help and 
counsel the first settlement 
of the land was organized, 
houses suitable to the cli- 
mate were built, Indian 
com and other crops for 

34 



which they had brought a 
common stock of seed were 
sown for the coming iieason, 
and to each was allotted an 
equal share of the fruitful 
land on which there was 
only so much need to 
labo&r as Adam found in 
Milton^s Paradise. 

Some of course were more 
industrious, some more in- 
genious, than others. Some 
had less bodily vigour; a- 
mong these were those of 
whom I have spoken as the 
elect few — the old Scholar 
and a little company of 
young clerics, " Priests ** of 
the Church of England. 

This Church from the 

time of its disestablishment 

had begun a new life — it 

had at once shown its vita- 

35 



lity by castii^ off some of 
its old disused oigaiiisiiis 
and by adapting itself in 
quick sympathy to the 
needs of a changed order 
of things. 

The young Priests of 
whom I have spoken be- 
lieved that men had lost 
sight of the great commu- 
nistic idea of early Chris- 
tianity, and they made 
themselves poor and home- 
less for the sake of their 
creed. True brethren of the 
Cross they were, not the 
less willing to cast in their 
lot with S\e outlawed be- 
cause most of these denied 
the Christian faith with 
their lips. Some of them 
they knew acknowledged it 
in their lives, while in the 
36 



multitude who cast away 
all law and chose evil rather 
than good, they recognized 
the lost sheep whom it was 
their mission if possible to 
recall. 

These men, who were less 
strong in body than many 
others, were yet much more 
skilful in the use they made 
of the advantages which all 
shared alike, and even the 
women, of whom a small 
company of enthusiasts 
had arrived, were so wise 
and industrious in the 
building of their simple 
homes and the tilling of 
their small plots, that the 
western point of the Island, 
in which these elect ones 
took up their abode, be- 
came soon a thriving and 
37 i> 



pleasant settlement, while 
die homes of the less intelli- 
gent, evenofthosewhoweie 
of great bodily streng^ 
were of poorer constnictioD, 
their lands worse tilled, 
and an altogeth^ different 
Q^anner of living and oo^ 
cupation prevailed among 
them. ^ 

And thisnotwidistandii]^ 
that the little brodierfaood 
of Priests made no home 
for themselves beyond a 
rude shelter from the air 
before they had built with 
the best skill they pos- 
sessed, and with all the 
help they could persuade 
others to give them, a 
church where daily worship 
of the simplest kind was 
offered. 

38 



Things went for a time 
very happily; all that the 
elect company possessed of 
skill or knowledge they 
were eager to share with 
others. The old Scholar of 
whom I have spoken gave 
advice in regard to the 
building of each new dwell* 
ing; those whose crops 
were the largest shared with 
those who had least, and 
through the whole little co» 
lony in the western part of 
the Island a common exile 
produced a common feeling 
of loyalty to one another, 
and oi desire for the good 
of the community, to which 
p for a time even those who 
professed to believe in no 
moral order yielded. I 
cannot say that the white 
39 



wooden church among the 
Bread-fruit trees held many 
worshippers, but at least 
the Christian Brotherhood 
was looked upon as a harm- 
less and kindly element in 
the new society. 

Some Russian noblemen 
and students were among 
the next arrivals. Th^ 
were full of enthusiasm for 
the future of the settlement, 
though enraged at their 
banishment, and a little 
jealous of the established 
order they found on the 
island and of the influence 
of the Scholar and the 
Priests. The former, by the 
love and esteem in which 
he was held by many, and 
even by the beauty of 
his venerable countenance, 
40 



seemed to them dangerous- 
ly like a patriarch or chief, 
and the superiority of the 
western dwellings was to 
them a sign of something 
reactionary. They built 
their own homes rather 
carelessly, and gathered 
little companies together 
by the side of the I^oon 
to whom they talked in low 
and earnest tones and in 
excellent English of the 
beauty of Anarchy and of 
Nihihsm, glorifymg the 
absence of certain things as 
a presence more than any 
religion or philosophy had 
done before. The "No- 
thing'' of Molinos, the 
emptiness of Nirvana, would 
have been far too existent 
for them. 

41 D 2 



Their ideas did not al- 
ways meet with acceptance, 
for even the more violent 
of the Socialists could 
hardly see that there was 
an object for destructive 
denunciations in the simple 
order which seemed to 
them an assurance of indi- 
vidual freedom. 

But a change was com- 
ing. 

I am not going here to 
write the history of the 
great Irish revolution which 
followed the separation of 
that country from England. 
It is well known how terri- 
ble that time was, and how, 
when all men were wearied 
out and sick to death of 
the horrors of civil war, 
there followed a great swing 

42 



of the pendulum towards 
order and high - handed 
government ; they entreated 
for a king of the Royal 
Family of England, and a 
strongly Conservative Cabi- 
net in Dublin banished in 
large numbers all who re- 
mained of the disaffected 
party. 

These were the men who 
next landed in Meliora. 
They had been maddened 
with rage against their own 
Church in consequence of 
the wise part taken by the 
Pope and the Irish bishops 
against the revolutionary 
party. Hence they were 
enemies of all creeds and 
forms of religion, and they 
were also of course filled 
with the old bitterness 

43 



against all of English 
race. 

At the same time a great 
number of German and 
Belgian Socialists of the 
most violent kind were also 
landed on the Island, and 
they found no dif&culty in 
making friends at once with 
the Irish company, the 
German system of education 
having made them as per- 
fect in the use of foreign 
tongues as it left them igno- 
lant of the first principles 
of moral law and of all 
sound theories of govem- 
Qient and political economy. 

These new-comefs set- 
tled themselves in the south- 
east of the Island, where 
there were large forests of 
Coco-palms, Bananas, and 

44 



Bread - fruit trees, which 
they began at once to fell 
in order to use the timber 
for their houses, and this 
in so wasteful a way that 
they cut down those trees 
which were valuable for 
fruit, but of slight use as 
timber, quiteas freely as ^e 
others. Indeed, for such 
houses as they wanted much 
smaller wood was sufficient* 
The abundant Hibiscus 
would have supplied all 
their material in that cli- 
mate, where solid and sub- 
stantial dwellings are en- 
tirely needless. 

Not content with a reck- 
less destruction in theirown 
district, they didnot scruple 
to begin cutting wood from 
the coco-bearing reef which 

45 



fringed the Lagoon fax to 
the westward of their set- 
tlemeiit. 

A gentle remonstrance 
from those vrhom I witt 
name the Western partjr 
called forth feelings of anger 
and unreason in these men 
of violent ideas^ and there 
arose among them, it is 
scarcely known how, an 
idea of building ships in 
which th^ might go out and 
subdue some neighbouring 
islands. At the same time 
they had a scheme for con- 
structing defences on their 
own shore against the at- 
tacks they might in this 
manner provoke. And, 
later, they showed signs of 
erecting a sort of stockade 
which, with the abrupt line 
4« 



of tbe great mountain and 
its outlying ridges of broken 
crater, would separate diem 
from the Western settle- 
ment. At first, as has been 
said, the scheme which led 
to their cutting down the 
forest was chiefly one for 
shipbuilding. To this the 
Western party strongly op- 
posed themselves. 

What indeed was the use 
of such a project? All the 
islands of £he South Padfii^ 
in which signs of their great 
future were aheady fbie- 
shadowing, were members 
of the British Federation. 
To land on any one of 
them could only mean a de- 
fiance of the whole power 
of that Federation, some 
freedi lawsof repressicm, and 

47 



possibly the presence of 
troops in the island. 

And this, a mean and 
futile struggle with the laws 
of a strong country instead 
of the peaceful future for 
which the Island might have 
looked — ^afuturenot of con- 
flict, but of freedom and 
peace, so the Western en- 
thusiasts believed — a future 
in which every man should 
be a law to himself, in which 
each should willingly work 
for all — a future from which 
the old world, with its worn- 
out notions, should learn 
this lesson — that to be with- 
out laws was not to be law- 
less, and that freedom from 
forms of external govern 
ment did not mean slavery 
to selfishness and passion. 
48 



Such counsels of perfec- 
tion were hardly fitted for 
the wilder notions of the 
Southern and Eastern set- 
tlers. The remonstrances 
of the West were met with 
many an angry cry. From 
the Irish that they had not 
come round the world to 
submit again to English 
rule ; from the Russians 
that they would not be 
governed by priests ; from 
3ie Germans every possible 
argument with no possible 
ground. 

After a time a sort of 
parliament was convened 
in an amphitheatre formed 
by one of the craters of the 
great mountain. No one 
could think of this strange 
place of assembly as having 
49 E 



been so lately given over 
to the two fiercer elements 
of those primal four in 
which the old world be* 
lieved, the rush of angry 
Fire, or the wash of stormy 
Waves under which it had 
lain a little whQe, but long 
enough for the busy coral 
creatures to have claimed it 
for a foundation. Now it 
seemed as if Earth firom the 
beginning had held it in 
her green arms, and as if 
the gentle Air had imme- 
morially carried to and &o 
the sleepy odours of its 
wonderful flowers. 

Here they met, the Wes- 
tern party standing loyaily 
loun d their leaders and chief 
speakers— the old Scholar 
of whom I have spoken, the 

so 



young Priests, and a large 
company of English work- 
ing men, who believed 
heartily in the communistic 
idea. I will not say that 
as they discussed the affairs 
of their Island nationality 
and opinion always kept 
together. There were some 
Englishmen of a low type 
who applauded the violent 
and warlike party; there 
was a company of the wiser 
and more educated Rus- 
sians who were convinced 
by the words of the West ; 
there were moderate men 
among the Germans and 
Belgians; but the Irish were 
mostly for the axe and the 
sword. It was clearly shown 
at this time that the Mode- 
rates were in the minority; 

5» 



Aeie was no force to which 
ihey could appeal, and, as 
the son set behind the 
ridge on which they stood, 
they tamed and went rather 
sadly homeward. 

Still there seemed one 
effort to be made. The 
Western party was now, 
through the opposition of 
the South, bound by a real 
unity of thought They 
could, at any rate, set 
themselves to persuade by 
individual converse some 
of the other side ; indeed, 
as I have said, some of the 
better class of Russian Ni- 
hilists had already been 
convinced — ^these might in- 
fluence their own people. 

So for a while^ though 
without much hope^ milder 

5* 



counsels were urged here 
and there by messengers 
from the West, who went 
singly across the hills to 
speak to all who would 
listen. The young Priests 
even endeavoured to recall 
some of the settlers of the 
South to thoughts of duty 
and heavenly wisdom, and 
preached the gladness of a 
life in which each lived for 
his fellows, in contrast with 
the misery of that state in 
which each strove for his 
own gain, wrangling like 
brute beasts. But though 
some few, touched bywords 
that recalled an innocent 
past, inclined at least to 
consider their meaning, 
there were but few who 
were ready to receive them, 
53 E2 



and to most the Cross 
seemed but a wom-oat em- 
blem of the creed of op- 
pressors. 

Finally, the sole result of 
all these efforts was to 
rouse the opposition of the 
Southern leaders, who went 
to and fro denouncing those 
of the West, inflaming the 
passions of their own fol- 
lowers by violent appeals 
and angry denunciations, 
till that day came whichall 
had foreseen — how could it 
indeed not come ? Yet it 
seemed, so said those who 
remained to tell the story, 
as if so horrible a thing 
could not really happen in 
that sweet, languid air, un- 
der that warm sun, tem- 
pered by soft winds and 

54 



weet with a thousand 
flowers. Conflict and tn- 
mult and cruelty — what 
had they to do with such a 
scene ? 

It was a Sunday morning. 
All the Western folk were 
gathered in and round the 
church, whose open arcaded 
sides allowed those without 
to join freely the worship 
of those within. The church 
indeed was too large for 
those who mostly cared to 
enter it^ but to-day the sense 
of coming trouble brought 
the whole community to- 
gether. 

Suddenly upon the sound 
of prayer broke in the noisy 
shouts and hideous laughter 
of their enemies; a wild 
multitude came rushing 

55 



through the trees, and then 
forming a ring round the 
church and ^e kneeling 
crowd, they called for those 
they most hated in all that 
company — the Scholar and 
the Priests. 

The old Scholar, if the 
truth be told, was one who 
had no love for creeds ; he 
cared little for churches, 
though these Churchmen 
he had come to honour as 
men — good men, wise, gen- 
tle and true of heart. He 
took pleasure in believing 
that he was no Christian, 
not knowing himself. For 
in truth he loved the Christ 
in His poor, and in these 
men His servants, and he 
had long lived, though, as 
has been said, not thinking 
5« 



it, the life of the Cross. 
Self bad long oeen put 
.away, so far as it can be 
by any still dwelling in the 
flesh, only he had not ever 
looked up into the face of 
Him who led him by the 
hand. Hewas therefore not 
within the church, but a 
little away, under a Bread- 
fruit tree. 

But when he heard them 
call his name, he came and 
stood upon the steps at the 
door and spoke to the 
leaders of the crowd. He 
said that they might do as 
they would with him, but 
he would entreat them once 
again to consider what was 
good for the peace and 
safety of the whole Island. 
He begged them to spare 
57 



the Priests who had come 
there to serve them, to 
teach their children, and to 
help all with wise counsels 
and the example of virtuous 
lives. While he spoke, these 
men, having reverently 
finished their prayers, came 
and stood beside him. Then 
the crowd broke out in 
wild cries and thrust them 
back into the church, while 
some of their number, with 
a sudden inspiration from 
the Evil Will, set fire to the 
slight wooden roof of the 
porch. 

It was but for a little 
while that the flames ran 
round the dry, thin walls 
and mounted the wooden 
spire, and rose, a column 
of clear, pale ~ scarlet a- 
5« 



gainst the brilliant green 
of the tall Bread -firnit 
trees. Those within the 
church saw that there was 
no escape, and the youngest 
of the Priests, a boyish fel- 
low who in England had 
thought much about stoles 
and albs, quietly gave out 
the hymn they had meant 
to sing at the end of the 
service. All joined with 
one voice, and only as the 
flames wrapped round and 
choked them the sound of 
their singing died away — 
no groan, no cry for help, 
no struggle to escape, but 
just one solemn, triumphant 
maityr song, and all was 
still. The old Scholar died 
on the steps of the altar, as 
they knew by his signet 
59 



ring, an antique of great 
beauty, on wmch was en- 
graved the figure of a man 
bound by his outstretched 
hands and feet, supposed 
to represent Prometheus 
chained upon the rock. 




60 




Chapter III. 

** Tlus is the righteous maid, the 
comforter." 

^HUS ended the 
hopes of the 
West. The time 
that followed 
was one of wild confusion. 
Violence was the only law, 
and those who escaped in 
that terrible day yielded 
tl^emseives in hopeless mi- 
st^ to the disorders they 

6i F 




could not avert or control 
Some few there always were 
who longed for order and 
peace, and mourned in si- 
lence for their lost leaders; 
but none had the courage 
to speak out. 

It was in these da3rs that 
a ship of strange appear- 
ance was seen approaching 
the entrance of the Lagoon^ 
which, passing quickly 
round to the north of the 
Island, a bare, rocky region 
not yet inhabited^ landed 
there a large number of 
passengers, and before the 
rest of the inhabitants could 
cross the mountain and dis- 
cover who were the new- 
comers, the ship which 
brought them had vanished 
again into the open sea, ^ 

6z 



A stealthy departure and 
scaricely to be wondered 
ati for the government 
of Burmah had grave fears 
irhether even on the Is- 
land of Outlaws its pas- 
sengers could be welcomed 
or endured. They were a 
latj^company of an entirely 
lawless robber race known 
at that time by the name of 
Daants — ^the terror of the 
Burmese country. 

These men soon found 
Aat they had been put 
ashore on the least fertile 
imrt of the Island, and they 
D^pm to come over the 
heights and plunder the 
oldter settlers for whatever 
they needed, even driving 
them from their homes and 
taking possesion of these. 



• There was no govern- 
ment or settled order to 
which anyone could appeal 
— " each man for himself" 
was the Only rule. The 
number of the early settlers 
was much diminished by 
the years of strife and vio- 
lence, and though some of 
those who came as children 
to the Island were now 
growing to man's and wo- 
man's estate, these were not 
many, and the fact that 
among the older settlers 
there were some who had 
^similies was a great source 
of weakness to them as 
against thenew^-comers, for 
even the most lawless of 
the old Southern men 
dreaded the attacks of 
these wild marauders upon 
«4 



iheir feeble women and 
diildren. 

Tha& the presence of the 
Dacoits wrought a change 
at once on the island. 

The common trouble to 
which they were now ex- 
posed inclined the earlier 
settlers to look upon one 
another with more friendly 
eyes, and indeed I think l^ 
this time they were all be- 
ginning a little to weary of 
conflict, and so they drew 
together and detarmined on 
measures in which they 
should all unite for driving 
the Dacoits back to the 
North, or at any rate re- 
ducing them to some sort 
of subjection. 

But this was by no means 
easy. Men who had no 

65 P2 



seruple at midnight murder, 
and delighted in the torture 
of little children in the sight 
of their mothers, could not 
be met by any force but 
that of perfectly organized 
and strong repression, and 
the leaders of the party 
who now represented the 
order of the Island began to 
dread whether they would 
not indeed all perish at the 
hands of these savage in- 
vaders. It might be so, 
but all that was best in 
these men rose up to meet 
the danger and to defend 
their homes. They were 
beginning to understand 
the meaning of union, of 
some sort of law, of the 
sacrifice of the will of each 
one to the good of the 

66 



whole, when a new thing 
happened. 

Some Dacoits who had 
just been driven back from 
a jdundering expedition 
were men who had leant 
a few words of English, and 
as they sullenly retired they 
uttered [terrible threats a- 
gainst their opponents, 
which they said they would 
perform when the next moon 
was round, for then ships 
would come bringing their 
friends, and they made signs 
to show that these would 
come in great numbers. 

Here were indeed tidings 
of despair for the settlers. 
They met once again in the 
green amphitheatre in which 
they had be^n convened 
before, and many of them 



remembered sadly how 
things had changed for tiie 
worse since that day; The 
px^sence of diis tenor mad« 
diem all of oine accord, 
thoi^h there seemed -fio*' 
thing to 'foe done. Hie 
shipbuilding projects had 
been long abandoned Om 
mong the pre^xxupations 
oi their internal conflicts^ 
and the little boats in which 
they crossed the Lagoon 
were perfecdy useless far 
lodg voyages at this time of 
year; but indeed, since all 
could not leave the Island, 
none of them would dream 
of desertii^ their compap* 
nions in misery. 

Further, if other reason 
were needed for their re- 
mainii^, all but the children 



and quite young men and 
women bore the brand 
which made life impossible 
for them elsewhere. 

And now a voice was 
heard among the anxious 
company to which all lis- 
tened, for most of them 
knew it well It was a 
woman's voice, the voice of 
one who came among the 
first settlers of the West, 
drawn there not by political 
sjrmpathy or communistic 
fellow-feeling with them, 
but simply by the thought 
that here, if anywhere, 
would be sick souls to heal, 
sick bodies to tend, and 
women and little children 
needing help and care. She 
was cdled "Our Sister,** 
and no one had learnt any- 
69 



thing of her family' or her 
history. Ofthose whom she 
comforted in sickness or 
trouble, eadi one felt assured 
that she held the creed his 
mother had taught him as 
a fittle child ; some would 
have sworn she belobged 
to the Church of Rome; 
the Russians claimed her 
as theirs ; some wild Welsh 
Home-Rulers were certain 
that she belonged to the 
Primitive Methodist Con- 
nexion ; and a compuiyof 
rbltgh men from the English 
iron districts were still 
more certain that her gentle 
voice was that of a Quaker- 
ess from a secluded York- 
shire valley. 

It did not matter. 

She had escaped, almost 
70 



I 

ir 
C 



alone of the inmost drde 
of the West, at the time of 
the burning of the church, 
by the fact that she was 
that day nursing a. little 
child who was sick of a 
fever and whose mother 
had just died Since that 
timeevil habits and carel^sa 
living had led to a great 
spread of this terrible dis- 
ease, and the Sist^ had 
gone from one sick bed to 
another brinf;in^ medicine 
and the heahng of her pre- 
sence, and there were thctse 
who said that sometliing 
miraculous lay in tlie touch 
of her hands and the whis- 
per of her prayer. 

It was her yoSce that 
spoke in the mid^t . of the 
people that day. ^he stood 

7« 



on ^ little mound among 
the tangled growth of 
scented flowers — ^almost a- 
mldst of the great amphi- 
theatre — and in the perfect 
hush of her hearers and the 
stillness of the clear wind- 
less air every syllable was 
heard. 

She said that these trou- 
bles had come upon thenj^ 
as they knew, through their 
own folly and dissensions ; 
that they might now, if they 
were indeed united, resist 
their enemies and oblige 
them to live peaceably m 
their own part of the Island, 
getting their supplies from 
the northemreef, which was 
very fruitful, and not cross- 
ing the hills ; that if, taking 
warning from the weakness 

7* 



which their disorders had 
brought, they would set 
themselves to strengthen 
some simple form of go- 
vemmenty they might even 
yet live peaceable andhappy 
lives on the Island. If the 
new company of Dacoits 
found them thus united 
and strong they might sub- 
mit to the same rule as the 
others ; but alas ! the moon 
was near the full. There 
was but little time for such 
measures, even if all did 
their best 

But there was one weapon 
they had all long neglected, 
the weapon of Prayer, and 
she entreated them all to 
kneel down around her. 

The wild multitude thus 
taken unawares in a serious 
73 G 



mood did not bethink them 
of scoffing, indeed they 
loved her, and that was 
enough. 

Her sweet, piercing voice 
seemed to touch the cloud- 
less sky as she confessed 
the sins of that company 
and acknowledged their 
need of all things; and with 
words that claimed as the 
gift certain to be given by a 
loving father's hand, what 
others would timidly have 
asked as a doubtful favour 
from a distant king, she 
seemed to lay hold at once 
with a strong hand on all 
thet infinite help hidden in 
the storehouse of the Hea- 
venly Will. 

She claimed for that 
company, not safety only, 

74 



but blessings and gladness 
undreamed of by any; and 
when she ended, a great 
" Amen " went up from all 
that strange congregation. 

At this moment a wild 
cry was heard from those 
who stood on the eastern 
ridge of the crater, which 
commanded the sea and 
the opening in the reef by 
which vessels entered the 
Lagoon. A ship whose 
lines were but too well 
known was in sight : the 
Dacoits were coming. 

The whole assembly 
climbed up the sides of the 
crater and on to the long 
ridge of hill beyond, and 
stood looking seaward. 
The ship came quickly 
nearer — when those who 

75 



knew the coast observed 
that, instead of following 
the winding channel of deep 
water that leads to the 
opening of the Lagoon, they 
were hurrying o^ to a great 
sunken reef to the north of 
this, on which the sea, be- 
ing unusually calm, was not 
breaking as it was wont to 
do at most seasons. 

They saw a crowd of 
Dacoits rush to the shore 
making signs to those on 
board, but it was too late. 
The ship struck, and sank 
at once in the fathomless 
depth of water outside the 
reef. The Dacoits on shore 
swam across the Lagoon, 
and running over the reef 
again, swam towards the 
sunken ship, and dived in 
76 



the hope of saving their 
friends. But during this 
little space of time, the 
tide, which turns there very 
suddenly, brought great 
waves again to break over 
the sunJken rocks and on 
the outer edge of the reef, 
and many of those who 
swam out to the wreck 
were drowned. 

Why the ship took the 
wrong course no one could 
ever know; perhaps, hav- 
ing made the voyage before, 
the captain ventured with- 
out a pilot. 

To all who stood on the 
mountain ridge and saw 
what happened in that 
short space of time, it 
seemed only that their 
prayer had been answered. 

77 G 2 





Chapter IV. 

** Love, and do what thou wilt" 

^H£ next day 
another great 
meeting was 
convened. 
Their deliverance and 
the manner of it had 
wrought a great change 
in many, especially in the 
less educated of the com- 
munity, who experienced 
at that time a conver' 
78 



sifm — ^that reversal of the 
natural selfish state which 
makes self come last 
instead of first in the 
thoughts of a man, and 
which leads him also to 
realize a Presence in the 
Unseen. I mention this 
because it very much 
changed the nature of their 
deliberations. I do not say 
that these conversions 
would have had a lasting 
effect but for certain events 
which followed. 

All desired a settled or- 
der in the Island. Those 
who were not truly in prin- 
ciple Anarchists, but rather 
Democrats, proposed some 
form of social contract by 
which they might '* confer 
all their power and strength 

79 



upon one man, or upon 
one assembly of men, that 
might reduce all their wills, 
by plurality of voices, unto 
one will ; which is as much 
as to say, to appoint one 
man, or assembly of men, 
to bear their Person : and 
every one to owne, and 
acknowledge himself to be 
Author of whatsoever he 
that so beareth their per- 
son shall Act, or cause to 
be acted in those things 
which conceme the com- 
mon Peace and Safetie; 
and therein to submit their 
Wills, every one to his Will, 
and their Judgments to his 
Judgment. This is more 
than consent or concord; 
it is a real Unitie of them 
all, in one and the same 
80 



Person, made by covenant 
of every man with every 
man, in such manner, as if 
every man should say to 
every man, *I authorize 
and give up my right of 
governing myself to this 
Man or to this assembly of 
men, on this condition, 
that thou give up thy right 
to him and authorize all his 
actions in like manner.' " 

These words are origi- 
nally those of Thomas 
Hobbes of Malmesbury, 
and these, or something 
like these, were spoken on 
this occasion by a young 
Englishman of gentle birth 
and manners, but of very 
ungentle notions when first 
he came to the Island. He 
was not one of those who 
8i 



came of their own free will, 
but as a branded man, 
having continued, after 
many warnings, to gather 
large companies of men in 
the London squares, and 
to exhort them to Revolu- 
tion. 

He was now, notwith- 
standing, as we have seen, 
rather old-fashioned in his 
ideas, and his proposal was 
metbynotalittleopposition. 
Who, it was asked, should 
be the governing body? 
How chosen? Who should 
make, and who enforce^ 
the laws ? All the old well- 
worn, yet not worn-out dif- 
ficulty about elections, and 
minorities, and oligarchies, 
seemed to appear in fore- 
cast on the Island, which 
82 



at least had never known 
these evils ; and the young 
man, as the argument pro- 
ceeded, felt himself to have 
been in the wrong. 

But the voice which on 
this day made itself heard 
with like most clearness 
and decision was that of a 
Russian Prince, who was 
persuaded as firmly as he 
had ever been that in An- 
archy — absence of all go- 
vernment — lay the only true 
order of society. He had 
always acknowledged that 
to this end certain princi- 
ples of morality recognized 
by the whole community, 
were necessary. He had 
believed, on first coming to 
the Island, that the mere 
absence of outward law 
83 



would develop in men that 
natural morality from which, 
under the blight of govern- 
ment, they had fallen away ; 
and he had opposed the 
work of the Priests of the 
West on the ground that 
the artificial restraints of 
religion are as fatal as civil 
enactments to the free 
growth of this natural vir- 
tue. But he had seen what 
sort of fruit was borne by 
common human nature 
when first left in a wild 
garden. His soul had been 
awakened to find that the 
morality of which he had 
dreamed, kindled and 
made living could be no 
other than the life of the 
Cross. 
In truth, like the old 
84 



Sdiolar of the Westan set<- 
Uementy his heart had long 
been dwelling in the place 
of lowly service and of 
death to sel( without know- 
ing the meaning of such a 
life, or putting it into the 
words of the Christian £uth*; 
for the Christian £uth that 
he had been taught had 
been shut up in sacred 
books and disguised in sa- 
cred images, and so hidden 
from his eyes. 

But on the evening be- 
foire this convention, after 
the great deliverance, he 
had gone up the western 
slope of the mountain and 
had found the Sister sitting 
in silent meditation at the 
door of her house, wearied 
with all the anxieties and 
85 H 



events of the day, and with 
the reaction that comes to 
all high natures after times 
of tension and excitement 
The thought of the drowned 
Dacoits, of the unsettled 
state of the Island, of the 
wickedness that abounded, 
and of her own helplessness 
for good, weighed on her 
sensitive spirit. She was in 
Elijah's mood when he 
said, '*0h, that I now might 
die!" 

To those who feel weary 
and wanting all things, the 
call is often to work and to 
give; and so it was that 
evening with the Sister. 
They spoke together by 
the door of her house tUl 
the full moon dropped 
from the height of the nor- 
86 



them sky towards the wes-^ 
tern sea ; and as they talked 
the things unseen seemed 
the only realities. The 
high hope' and faith in 
wmch the Sister had long 
lived and moved were com- 
municated in that hour to 
the seeking soul of the 
Prince; his whole being 
rose up to greet the new 
vision of the Best; and 
when he took his leave of 
the teacher to whom he 
owed so much, it was not to 
return at once to his home 
by the southern shore. He 
climbed by a steep path to 
the mountain top, and 
there, till the moon set and 
dawn came over the sea, he 
communed with his own 
heart and swore a solemn 
87 



all^iance to the Master 
lAkom he had chosen* 

To^lay, full of hope and 
confidence, he rose among 
the people, and laid beffxe 
them his scheme of a Chris* 
tian Anarchy — a society of 
men set free firom all out- 
ward law, set free from the 
bondage of self and of evil 
desires, because the wOIing 
servants of a holy Lord. 

As we have seen, he was 
not the first to speak in the 
assembly; his old restless 
desire to make his voice 
heard was gone; he was 
clothed with a new humi- 
lity. The cause for which 
he pleaded was not his, 
but that of One who hastes 
not : — 



S8 



" Day by dajr. 
And year by year He tarrieth : 

little need 
The Lord should hasten." 

It has been shown that 
the people were ready in 
heart for such an appeal. 
There was not one voice 
raised against him; each 
seemed fired by a high en- 
thusiasm for the good of 
all; each eager only that 
the highest will should be 
done. 

This will not seem strange 
to those who realize the ex- 
citement of the times just 
past, and who remember 
how frequent in the history 
of religion has been the 
sudden awakening, under 
strong feeling, of large mul- 
titudes of men. I will not 
89 H 2 



Faith from the wotds and 
thoughts with which the 
memories of the Sister 
and some others were 
stoi'ed. 

These were held all the 
more precious because they 
had to be told by one to 
another, and told again and 
again, till in the hearts of 
all were embedded as shin- 
ing jewels fragments of per- 
fect truth and flashes of 
mystical insight. Dearest 
to all were the parable of 
the Vine and Its branches, 
the Story of the Ctoss, the 
"Sermon on the Mount,** 
and many sa3dngs such as 
these : « The letter killetfa, 
but the Spirit giveth life ; ** 
"He that loveth bis life 
shall lose it ; " many 
9» 



words of St. Paul, and 
especially those which 
tell of the struggle of the 
soul to get free from the 
only real tyranny, and tbe 
splendid anarchy of the 
slaves of Christ ; many 
sayings of Thomas k Kem- 
pis, of Tauler, of Moli- 
nos, and of Marcus Aure- 
lius, dear to the heart of 
the Sister; many fragments 
of poems and hymns such 
as she loved and had learnt; 
many beautiful old hymna 
which some of the wives of I 
the German Socialists re- I 
membered and sang. Bat | 
it would not be possible l 
even to hint at the chosen I 
words which ruled the lives 
of that happy community, 
everyvoice in which swelleid 
9J 



the «N»eet hy^n^^ «ad 
8*«P^ ^^ed a»?*!^ 



of that inner law which he 
saw was needful to the 
peace of a country ordered 
on the principles of which 
we have spoken. 

So they were taken in 
calm weather in the Lagoon 
boats to a small neighbour- 
ing island, where they 
would find plenty of food, 
but no large timber of which 
boats might be built ; and 
they were left there to work 
out for themselves the pro- 
blem just solved on Me- 
tiora. 

How long the Anarchy, 
which was truly a Theocra- 
cy, would have continued 
in unbroken peace cannot 
be known. It is possible 
that, though the children 
of the first settlers were 
95 



dcalty religious, their chil- 
dren might show a return of 
evil tendencies, and that 
those who did not remem- 
ber the first fearfiit days of 
strife it) the Island might 
wilfully have roused again 
a spirit of disorder ; for the 
world and all the spheres 
mount only in upward spi- 
rals toward that point of 
the Heavens where ihey 
shall rest at last, and are 
turning always to the same 
point again, only a little 
higher than before. 

What did happen was 
this. 

Not long after the time 
of which I have writteo, 
the Sister having died, and 



been buried at her desire 
high up on the mountaiDy 
the Prince went one even- 
ijD^ to sit by her grave a- 
whileandto gather strength 
by communing with the 
Sj^nt that had first led him 
into the way of gladness. 

It had been a sultry day, 
and the breeze that was 
wont to cool the Island 
when the sun went down 
was this day asleep; no 
breath lifted the heavy air. 

The heart of the Prince 
was mournful too; only 
the hidden help which 
never fails ujdield him in 
the vague depression which 
stole over him. 

Then he heard suddenly 
a strange rumbling sound in 
the mountain under him; 

97 I 



the earth shook, and as he 
sprang to his feet he saw a 
horrible sight — the sea 
drawn back from the ree( 
sucked from the great La- 
goon, and then rushing in 
upon the Island and surging 
up over the reef, over the 
fringe of PalmS, over all the 
peaceful homes below^ 
Twice this was repeated as 
he staggered down from the 
highest point of the moun- 
tain ; and when the violence 
of the shock was over, the 
crater lay at his feet a salt 
lagoon, and over all the 
fruitful plain the sea lay 
deep and still. 

He alone was left of all 
that land's inhabitants. 

To a nature like his 
there was nothing terrible 
98 



in solitude, nor did the 
whole of this awful event 
seem to him so sad as it 
would have been to hear 
one evil word from the lips 
of a child. 

He lived for some years 
after this a life of medita- 
tion and peace, finding just 
enough food to supply his 
need among the fruits of 
the higher mountain forests ; 
and one day, in his extreme 
old age, a ship's boat seek- 
ing water entered the La- 
goon. He was taken on 
board, and he brought with 
him a manuscript which he 
had written on slips of the 
baric of trees, relating the 
history of the Island. From 
his own lips yet more of the 
story was gathered and 



written down by a Jesuit 
&ther who was reluming 
in the ship from a mission 
to the newly- settled An- 
tarctic Continent. 

There is no more to be 
told. The old Prince died 
on the voyage, glad to de- 
part as soon as he had told 
his tale. 

He had come to sec 
many things clearly in his 
lonely years on the moun- 
tain height. What these 
things were, beyond what 
has been written here, he 
told to the Jesuit father- 
under the seal of confes- 



Notes. 



I 2 



Sow little nny thought 



would come, or how the whole 
order of the civilized world 
would be once more sonic under 
waves of Irarbiirisni 1 We might 
now indeed deEpnir, only that as 
from each such wave in ages 
pa5t a better world has risen 
llifin that which went before, 
from the depth of our trouble 
now maj- rise the best of all — 



the new earth to which the new 
Heaven shall come down. 

Page 26, 

A very interesting paper in a 
magazine of last century by Pro- 
fessor Seeley was the first pro- 
phecy of this European Court. 
See Macmillan^s Magazine^ 
March, 187 1. 

Page 37. 

TTie women, — Of course I do 
not here allude to the wives of 
the Anarchists, of whom some 
accompanied their husbands. 

Page 48. 

Troops, — This must not be 
understood as if national armies 
were then existing. The United 
States of Europe and America 
maintained a large military force, 
which was sent hither and thi- 
ther, where needed, as represent- 
ing the Power which preserved 
the order of the civilized world 
104 



and controlled the still savage 
or unruly. 

Page 63. 

Burmah had before this time 
ceased to be governed by Eng- 
land, having insisted on '* Home 
Rule.'' 

Page 78. 

Thenow reduced number of the 
Dacoits was felt to be no longer 
a cause of danger if the rest of 
the society were ordered and 
strong ; for it will hereafter be 
shown that even a free associa- 
tion for the ordering of a state 
must be able to deal in some 
way with the disorderly. 




105 



passionately eager for set- 
tled order, and enthusias- 
tically religious, their chil- 
dren might show a return of 
evil tendencies, and that 
those who did not remem- 
ber the first fearfhl days of 
strife in the Island might 
wilfully have roused again 
a spirit of disorder ; for the 
world and all the spheres 
mount cmly in upward spi- 
rals toward that point of 
the Heavais where they 
shall rest at last, and are 
turning always to the same 
point again, only a little 
higher than before. 

What did happen was 
this. 

. Not long after the time 

of which I have written, 

the Sister having died, and 

96 



been buried at her desire 
h^h up on the moimtainy 
tibe Pmce went one even- 
tug ta sit by her grave a- 
while and to gather strength 
by communing with the 
^irit that bad first led him 
into the way of gladness. 

It had been a sultry day, 
and the breeze that was 
wont to cool the Island 
when the sun went down 
was this day asleep; no 
breath lifted the heavy air. 

The heart of the Prince 
was mournful too; only 
the hidden help which 
never fails upheld him in 
the vague depression which 
stole over him. 

Then he heard suddenly 
a strange rumbling sound in 
the mountain under him; 

97 I 



the earth shook, and as he 
sprang to his feet be saw a 
horrible sight — the sea 
drawn back from the ree^ 
sucked from the great La- 
goon, and then rushing in 
upon the Island and surging 
up over the reef, over the 
fnnge of PalmS, over all the 
peaceful homes below^ 
Twice this was repeated as 
he staggered down from the 
highest point of the moun- 
tain ; and when the violence 
of the shock was over, the 
crater lay at his feet a salt 
lagoon, and over all the 
fruitftil plain the sea lay 
deep and still. 

He alone was left of all 
that land's inhabitants. 

To a nature like his 
there was nothing terrible 
98 



in solitude, nor did the 
whole of this awfiil event 
seem to him so sad as it 
would have been to hear 
one evil word from the lips 
of a child. 

He lived for some years 
after this a life of medita- 
tion and peace, finding just 
enough food to supply his 
need among the -fruits of 
thehighermountain forests; 
and one day, in his extreme 
old age, a ship's boat seek- 
ing water entered the La- 
goon. He was taken on 
board, and he brought with 
him a manuscript which he 
had written on slips of the 
bark of trees, relating the 
history of the Island. From 
his own lips yet more of the 
story was gathered and 
99 



written down by a Jesuit 
father who was returning 
in the ship from a missicm 
to the newly-settled An- 
tarctic Continent. 

There is no more to be 
told. The old Prince died 
on the voyage, glad to de- 
part as soon as he had told 
his tale. 

He had come to see 
many things clearly in his 
lonely years on the moun- 
tain height What these 
things were, beyond what 
has been written here, he 
told to the Jesuit fietther — 
under the seal of confes- 
sion. 




lOO 



Notes. 



I 2