REALMAH’S GRIEF. THE USE MADE OF IRON IN ABIBAH.

It has often been noticed how, in civilized life, routine goes on, whatever suffering, or sorrow, or shame, or bereavement may have befallen. Dinner is not put aside because there is death in the house. There was the same thing at that period of the world’s history; and Realmah had to conform to the inevitable routine of life. At such times men move about, as it were, in a mist--a mist, however, causing trouble and confusion only to themselves; for they may seem to others to see very clearly, and to do their work well.

The sufferer has not only to appear upon the stage of action, whatever that may be, and to act his part tolerably; but he has to continue to act, when off the stage and behind the scenes, and only ceases to act when he is quite alone. Moreover, the usual supports are gone. Even that most clinging of human frailties and follies, vanity, gives way before profound sorrow and bereavement; and, in their presence, it has been known that a very vain man has lost his vanity, and all the comfort and sustainment that it used to bring with it. An ambition, especially if it be of the higher kind, embracing the good of others, may survive the shock: and thus it was with Realmah.

One of the many miseries of greatness, and not perhaps the least, is that neither its joys nor its sorrows can be private. To this was added in Realmah’s case an especial necessity to conceal the magnitude of his grief, and to behave as if it were only a small loss that he had suffered.

The report of his having made a successful experiment spread throughout the city with considerable rapidity, though not, of course, so rapidly as the knowledge of his failures had spread on former occasions. Everybody was anxious to see him, and to talk to him, and to be one of the first to congratulate him. Crowds of the citizens flocked out to that part of the wood where Realmah had carried on his experiments; and, in a very few hours, every bit of the iron had been carried away. The people of Abibah were very ready to appreciate the uses that might be made of this new metal.

One cannot help feeling a little for Condore, considering the mortification that one naturally supposes he must have had to endure from this success on the part of Realmah. But “Condore the Judicious” was equal to the occasion. It is true that he was not one of those “silly people,” as he called them, who flocked to the scene of Realmah’s experiments; but Condore did not hide himself from his friends, nor did he conceal his feelings by maintaining a sulky silence. He had always known, he said, that certain stones would melt into metal. Of course they would. Anybody that had seen a thunderbolt knew that. He had viewed this enterprise with disfavour, not because he imagined for a moment that it was a thing that could not be done, but because it was not worth doing, and could have no good result. For his part, he was content with what had contented his ancestors, who, he supposed, were not greater fools than his contemporaries. He would trouble those who were in this fuss of foolish delight at a most commonplace transaction, to mention to him any instance of a new thing turning out to be a good thing. The presumption in all cases was, that every change is for the worse.

They were descended from the gods--at least so the priests had informed him--and was it likely that there would be any improvement in their race, as time went on, and as each generation was still further removed from their great ancestors?

As to the uses that might be made of this metal, he begged to remind them of the well-known story of the ambitious pig which was so much discontented with his own tail, calling it a ridiculous and useless little appendage. The gods, willing to give man a lesson, bestowed upon this pig the tail that he coveted, namely, that of a fox. It was not found, however, to be so very great a gain. It went flopping about in the dirt; it made the poor pig look still more ridiculous than he had looked before, and proved only very serviceable to the little boys who wished to catch the pig. Such was the result, as far as his poor observation had gone, of men taking up new things unfitted for them; but the kindness of the gods in giving examples to mankind was seldom understood.

This satire pleased the bystanders (there was generally a little circle of listeners round Condore), and his words were noised throughout the city, especially the satirical story which he had invented about the pig. It did not, however, produce all the effect that Condore expected. Sneering can do a great deal: you can sneer down, at any rate for the moment, truth, honour, religion, generosity, and patriotism. Moreover, anything that is new offers especial opportunity for sneering attacks. But men cannot be sneered out of manifest physical advantages; and the men of Abibah were not such fools as to prefer fighting with wooden instead of iron weapons against enemies who were furnished with iron weapons. Besides, they took it as a very ill compliment that Condore should insinuate, as they thought he did, that they were of an inferior race to the men of the North, and that it was unfit for them, the Sheviri, to aspire to have superior weapons.

In short, the story of the ambitious pig was not well received, and people began to murmur against Condore, saying that he had been a hinderer of many good designs.

Time went on, but the ardour of the men of Abibah for making use of this new metal did not abate. Many ingenious persons were found to aid Realmah in his projects, and there were several of them who now showed much more ingenuity than he did, in working this metal, and adapting it to many uses. In truth, inventors, or rather those who have the power to invent, are very numerous. Let any man observe how many persons amongst his friends have told him of inventions that they had in their minds, and he will perhaps come to the conclusion which this writer has come to, that one out of every three persons is a born inventor.

Why there are not as many useful inventions as might be expected from the number of possible inventors, may be easily explained. Most men have to get their bread; and that employment gradually absorbs all their attention. To many men the physical requisites for successful invention are wanting, namely, nicety of eye, deftness of hand, room for experiments, and the materials requisite to work upon. But perhaps the greatest want of all is want of perseverance. Most men become tired of their own ideas; and, even if they try an experiment, are apt to accept the first defeat as final. Besides, few men thoroughly believe in themselves, and are the first to go over to the side of their adverse critics.

However this may be, certain it is that Realmah found not only many favourers and admirers, but, what was much more important, many intelligent coadjutors. In a few months’ time, dating from the day when his experiment had proved successful, and when his Ainah had received her death-stroke, the working of iron had made a great advance among the Sheviri. Indeed, a new tribe was formed called the Ironworkers. The name they gave to iron was _Krool-Varla_, which means stone-honey.

Of course the first use made of iron was to construct a good weapon of attack; and great was the delight in Abibah when the first iron javelin was made. Naturally this has been the first and indeed the chief use of iron in all ages--namely, to make it into some weapon of offence which shall pierce well into the soft flesh of our fellow-men. It is only during the dull times of peace that this valuable metal--_the_ metal of our system--has been applied to the ignoble uses of social life.

It is almost needless to add that Realmah became immensely popular. Most men recollected now that they had always said that there was something extraordinary in that young man. Condore and Potochee fell into the background. Invention became the order of the day; and the daring man who had proposed to eat with forks held up his head again.

When the Spaniards first discovered South America, they found a nation which worshipped certain sacred toads, that were carefully kept and fed, and reverenced, and prayed to. If, however, after a long course of praying, the prayers were not attended to, and rain did not come when it was wanted, or did not cease when it threatened to be too abundant, the sacred toads were delicately whipped, to remind them of their duty to their worshippers. Thus it is always. Those who are great amongst us are either whipped or worshipped. It was now worshipping time with Realmah, and everything he said was looked upon as oracular.

It was well that there was, at that period, some one member of a princely house who was very popular, for there was much distress in Abibah, and consequent discontent. There had been great inundations that year; and both the roots and the cereals, upon which the Sheviri depended, had, to a certain extent, failed.

In looking back upon those times, one cannot help thinking what advantage Condore and Potochee might have taken of this scarcity. They might have said that it showed the disapproval of the gods at the impiety of Realmah in offering to his fellow-men weapons like to those of the gods themselves.

But no such thing was said; and Realmah reigned in the hearts of all his fellow-citizens as the man whom they were proud to acknowledge as their foremost citizen.

Talora’s beauty gained fresh radiance from her consciousness of power and pre-eminence amongst the women. The Varnah was delighted with the presents that enriched their house, but did not change her inmost opinion of Realmah’s deficiency in commonsense, for was he not averse to receiving these presents, and, if possible, still more indifferent than ever to the good things of this world?

Many a subdued and furtive sigh came from Realmah’s heart, when he reflected that the one person whose delight in his success he would have cared for most, was numbered with the dead.