CHAPTER XXXII
COXURIA
“THE wind had risen offshore; but, not long after we weighed anchor, it fell and we began to drift. When the morning came, we saw that a current was rapidly bearing us down upon another low island that closely resembled in its outline the land we had left; but it was evidently very productive, and here we seemed certain of obtaining supplies. Blastemo thought it was Coxuria. If it were and if the pigmies that inhabited it were able to lay aside their everlasting hostilities, there was plenty to get on the island. We cast anchor therefore and pulled to the shore.
“It was yet early, and on the beach there were but few pigmies, who were greatly excited at our arrival. Each of the wizened little atomies laid himself alongside of one of our party when we jumped out of our boats, and began to prove to him the superiority of some dogma he held. We did not understand them, and listened in bewildered silence. But the friendly fervour died out of their manner as soon as it dawned on them that not a word of their eloquence was understood by us. A shade fell upon their faces and turned them, with their restless malice and cruel hate, into miniature maps of hell. They were like little demons as they consulted together. They chose a representative, who addressed us in Aleofanian, and Blastemo interpreted. But the faces of the silent Coxurians grew darker and more scowling; suspicion and hatred gave their expression to every feature.
“The stuff we listened to was the most absurd jumble of doctrines and arguments. The orator began by asserting as the first truth of religion that the gods were between two and three feet in height, and had shapes exactly like the Coxurians: that needed no proof, so he did not stop to prove it; the world was agreed upon that. They had never appeared upon earth except to the saints of Coxuria. With their saliva they had moistened and leavened a cake that grew in all its essential ingredients like the bodies they had assumed when they had come amongst men. A little of this cake was enough to transform everything it touched into divine material, and there was none of it except in Coxuria. The true belief was that everything that it touched had this miraculous power of transformation; only vile heretics could assert the opposite. Yet some still worse heretics affirmed that only their high-priests who had been touched by the hands of high-priests who had touched the original saliva had the true divinising faculty in their hands. Another fanatical sect held the damning doctrine that it was neither the original saliva nor the cake that gave the power of miracle, but the words that had come out of the mouths of the gods when the saliva sputtered on to the cake. He cursed these heretics with wild vituperation, evidently selected from their sacred books, and threatened them with everlasting damnation. He was still more furious in his damnatory eloquence when he came to those who held that the essence of religion lay in turning the face to the rising sun in all ceremonies, and clipping all the hair off round the left ear. All true reverence consisted in modesty towards the gods, who lived in the sun; and their dazzling brilliance there was intended to make the worshippers turn away their faces from them. The direction in which they vanished in the evening in their car of light was that towards which the reverent face ever should be turned; for by their fading away and letting the curtain of night be drawn they meant to encourage the worshipper to look sadly after them. Then, every man knew that it was the right ear that heard most distinctly; it was this that was meant by the gods to be uncovered of its natural veil in order to hear the divine harmonies of the universe. It was appalling to hear any human lips utter such blasphemy as that the face should be turned to the east or that the left ear should be unmuffled. No torture was too great for such heresy.
“He proceeded with other damnatory classifications of Coxurian religionists, and bit by bit showed how he and his fellow-worshippers beside him alone were to be saved. He implored us to turn to the true faith and not be lost for ever. We managed to suppress the smile that was ever rising to our faces. Then, with a look round, he warned us to be careful of error even within the true faith. There were mistakes made even by the best of men. He besought us to avoid the belief that it was only over the tip of the right ear that the hair was to be cut, or that the body was not to be bent quite to the ground in worship towards the west. The whole sense of hearing was meant by the gods to be unbared; and it was the main part of the body that was to be turned up to the rising of the sun; reverence could be shown only by turning the eyes completely away from the dazzling beams of the gods. He was getting more and more fervid in his denunciations of such errors and others like them that his fellow-sectarians had fallen into. He and he alone was the pillar of true religion upon earth; he and he alone would reach the sphere of the gods; alas for the solitary grandeur of his position in the universe!
“Suspicion more and more filled the faces of his pigmy supporters. Nor could we longer keep down the amusement that was pressing upwards within us. We had just burst into a roar of laughter when there crept down upon us in his rear a cloud of pigmies armed with the most jagged of lances and arrows. The effect was magical. Our theological rooster who had crowed so lustily and his band of our would-be converters turned tail and fled, yet not without bravado or menacing gestures. The newcomers went through the same performance as their predecessors, except that they insisted on the special points of doctrine that marked them off from all other sects. We could not understand the difference between the two claimants of our souls. The leader of the second crowd put the distinction into a single word and pounded the meaning of it into us. He scowled and explained, preached and exhorted. Not a gleam of intelligence passed over any of our faces. Their inappeasable hatred of the sect that had just disappeared over the horizon had no other basis, it seemed to us, than the unmeaning syllable ‘buzz.’ Their gods when they appeared on earth had, according to our furious orator, proclaimed ‘fuzz’ as the name of the saving cake; it was a damning error in the fugitive schismatics to hold that it was ‘buzz-fuzz.’ It looked as if we were not going to be converted to this saving syllable. The ugly weapons of conversion were raised more threateningly, but thanks to Blastemo the awkwardness of the situation was got over. Without consulting us, he rose and accepted all their statements as the everlasting truths of the universe, and expressed for us the profoundest loathing of the doctrines that had before been vented upon us. The scene was turned into one of jubilation. The ugly weapons were lowered, and the loathsome little imps ran forward to embrace their converts, as far, at least, as the minuteness of their bodies would allow. Never at one sweep of their doctrinal net had so large a haul been made. It seemed to be our size as much as our numbers that gave them joy; every cubic inch of us freed from the damning error told in the ultimate sum of salvation. We did not understand it all till we got on board.”
Here Blastemo broke in with a loud but somewhat awkward laugh. He seemed to understand something of what was being told.