What Is Man? and Other Essays eBook

Necessarily the scene of the real turning-point of my life (and of yours) was the Garden of Eden.  It was there that the first link was forged of the chain that was ultimately to lead to the emptying of me into the literary guild.  Adam’s temperament was the first command the Deity ever issued to a human being on this planet.  And it was the only command Adam would never be able to disobey.  It said, “Be weak, be water, be characterless, be cheaply persuadable.”  The latter command, to let the fruit alone, was certain to be disobeyed.  Not by Adam himself, but by his temperament—­which he did not create and had no authority over.  For the temperament is the man; the thing tricked out with clothes and named Man is merely its Shadow, nothing more.  The law of the tiger’s temperament is, Thou shalt kill; the law of the sheep’s temperament is Thou shalt not kill.  To issue later commands requiring the tiger to let the fat stranger alone, and requiring the sheep to imbue its hands in the blood of the lion is not worth while, for those commands can’t be obeyed.  They would invite to violations of the law of temperament, which is supreme, and take precedence of all other authorities.  I cannot help feeling disappointed in Adam and Eve.  That is, in their temperaments.  Not in them, poor helpless young creatures—­afflicted with temperaments made out of butter; which butter was commanded to get into contact with fire and be melted.

What I cannot help wishing is, that Adam had been postponed, and Martin Luther and Joan of Arc put in their place—­that splendid pair equipped with temperaments not made of butter, but of asbestos.  By neither sugary persuasions nor by hell fire could Satan have beguiled them to eat the apple.  There would have been results!  Indeed, yes.  The apple would be intact today; there would be no human race; there would be no you; there would be no me.  And the old, old creation-dawn scheme of ultimately launching me into the literary guild would have been defeated.

HOW TO MAKE HISTORY DATES STICK

These chapters are for children, and I shall try to make the words large enough to command respect.  In the hope that you are listening, and that you have confidence in me, I will proceed.  Dates are difficult things to acquire; and after they are acquired it is difficult to keep them in the head.  But they are very valuable.  They are like the cattle-pens of a ranch—­they shut in the several brands of historical cattle, each within its own fence, and keep them from getting mixed together.  Dates are hard to remember because they consist of figures; figures are monotonously unstriking in appearance, and they don’t take hold, they form no pictures, and so they give the eye no chance to help.  Pictures are the thing.  Pictures can make dates stick.  They can make nearly anything stick—­particularly