WHAT IS MAN? AND OTHER ESSAYS OF MARK TWAIN

admiration. Those men could pierce to the marrow of a mystery

instantly. If the Rosetta-stone idea had been introduced it

would have defeated them, but entrails had no embarrassments for

them. Entrails have gone out, now–entrails and dreams. It was

at last found out that as hiding-places for the divine intentions

they were inadequate.

A part of the wall of Valletri in former times been struck

with thunder, the response of the soothsayers was, that a native

of that town would some time or other arrive at supreme power.–

BOHN’S SUETONIUS, p. 138.

“Some time or other.” It looks indefinite, but no matter,

it happened, all the same; one needed only to wait, and be

patient, and keep watch, then he would find out that the thunder-

stroke had Caesar Augustus in mind, and had come to give notice.

There were other advance-advertisements. One of them

appeared just before Caesar Augustus was born, and was most

poetic and touching and romantic in its feelings and aspects.

It was a dream. It was dreamed by Caesar Augustus’s mother,

and interpreted at the usual rates:

Atia, before her delivery, dreamed that her bowels stretched

to the stars and expanded through the whole circuit of heaven

and earth.–SUETONIUS, p. 139.

That was in the augur’s line, and furnished him no

difficulties, but it would have taken Rawlinson and Champollion

fourteen years to make sure of what it meant, because they would

have been surprised and dizzy. It would have been too late to be

valuable, then, and the bill for service would have been barred

by the statute of limitation.

In those old Roman days a gentleman’s education was not

complete until he had taken a theological course at the seminary

and learned how to translate entrails. Caesar Augustus’s

education received this final polish. All through his life,

whenever he had poultry on the menu he saved the interiors and

kept himself informed of the Deity’s plans by exercising upon

those interiors the arts of augury.

In his first consulship, while he was observing the

auguries, twelve vultures presented themselves, as they had done

to Romulus. And when he offered sacrifice, the livers of all

the victims were folded inward in the lower part; a circumstance

which was regarded by those present who had skill in things of

that nature, as an indubitable prognostic of great and wonderful

fortune.–SUETONIUS, p. 141.

“Indubitable” is a strong word, but no doubt it was

justified, if the livers were really turned that way. In those

days chicken livers were strangely and delicately sensitive to

coming events, no matter how far off they might be; and they

could never keep still, but would curl and squirm like that,

particularly when vultures came and showed interest in that

approaching great event and in breakfast.

II

We may now skip eleven hundred and thirty or forty years,

which brings us down to enlightened Christian times and the

troubled days of King Stephen of England. The augur has had his

day and has been long ago forgotten; the priest had fallen heir

to his trade.

King Henry is dead; Stephen, that bold and outrageous

person, comes flying over from Normandy to steal the throne from

Henry’s daughter. He accomplished his crime, and Henry of

Huntington, a priest of high degree, mourns over it in his

Chronicle. The Archbishop of Canterbury consecrated Stephen:

“wherefore the Lord visited the Archbishop with the same judgment

which he had inflicted upon him who struck Jeremiah the great

priest: he died with a year.”

Stephen’s was the greater offense, but Stephen could wait;

not so the Archbishop, apparently.

The kingdom was a prey to intestine wars; slaughter, fire,

and rapine spread ruin throughout the land; cries of distress,

horror, and woe rose in every quarter.

That was the result of Stephen’s crime. These unspeakable

conditions continued during nineteen years. Then Stephen died as

comfortably as any man ever did, and was honorably buried. It

makes one pity the poor Archbishop, and with that he, too, could

have been let off as leniently. How did Henry of Huntington know

that the Archbishop was sent to his grave by judgment of God for

consecrating Stephen? He does not explain. Neither does he

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *