Debits and credits

by Rudyard Kipling

When his watch was complete and his observation certain, he turned him swiftly underneath the Earth and came back saying to the Guardians of the Gate: “Make room! I have a sure and a terrible report.” So his passage was permitted, and he lay till evening in the Garden. Then he said: “Can the Accursed by any means escape the Decree?” It was answered: “By no means can they escape or avoid.” Then the Mole said: “But I have seen that they have escaped.” It was answered: “Declare thy observation.” The Mole said: “The enemies to each other have altogether departed from Thy worship and Thy adoration. Nor are they in any sort enemies to each other, for they enjoy together the most perfect felicity, and moreover they have made them a new God.” It was answered: “Declare the shape of the God.” The Mole said: “Their God is of small stature, pinkish in colour, unclothed, fat and smiling. They lay it upon the grass and, filling its hands with flowers, worship it and desire no greater comfort.” It was answered: “Declare the name of the God.” The Mole said: “Its name is Quabil (Cain), and I testify upon a sure observation that it is their God and their Uniter and their Comforter.” It was answered: “Why hast thou come to Us?” The Mole said: “Through my zeal and my diligence; for honour and in hope of reward.” It was answered: “Is this, then, the best that thou canst do with the eyes which We gave thee?” The Mole said: “To the extreme of my ability!” It was answered: “There is no need. Thou hast not added to their burden, but to thine own. Be darkened henceforward, upon Earth and under Earth. It is not good to spy upon any creature of God to whom alleviation is permitted.” So, then, the Mole’s eyes were darkened and contracted, and his lot was made miserable upon and under the Earth to this day.

But to those two, Adam and Eve, the alleviation was permitted, till Habil and Quabil and their sisters Labuda and Aqlemia had attained the age of maturity. Then there came to the Greatest Substitute and his Consort, from out of Kabul the Stony, that Peacock, by whose contrivance Eblis the Accursed had first obtained admission into the Garden of the Tree. And they made him welcome in all their ways and into all their imaginings; and he sustained them with false words and flagitious counsels, so that they considered and remembered their forfeited delights in the Garden both arrogantly and impenitently.

Then came the Word to the Archangel Jibrail the Faithful, saying: “Follow those two with diligence, and interpose the shield of thy benevolence where it shall be necessary; for though We have surrendered them for awhile (to Eblis) they shall not achieve an irremediable destruction.” Jibrail therefore followed our First Substitute and the Lady Eve—upon whom is the Grace and a Forgetfulness—and kept watch upon them in all the lands appointed for their passage through the world. Nor did he hear any lamentations in their mouths for their sins. It is recorded that, for a hundred years they were continuously upheld by the Peacock under the detestable power of Eblis the Stoned, who by means of magic multiplied the similitudes of meat and drink and rich raiment about them for their pleasure, and came daily to worship them as Gods. (This also lay in the predestined Will of the Inscrutable). Further, in that age, their eyes were darkened and their minds were made turbid, and the faculty of laughter was removed from them. The Excellent Archangel Jibrail, when he perceived by observation that they had ceased to laugh, returned and bowed himself among the Servitors and cried: “The last evil has fallen upon Thy creatures whom I guard! They have ceased to laugh and are made even with the ox and the camel.” It was answered: “This also was foreseen. Keep watch.”

After yet another hundred years Eblis, whose doom is assured, came to worship Adam as was his custom and said: “O my Lord and my Advancer and my Preceptor in Good and Evil, whom hast thou ever beheld in all thy world, wiser and more excellent than thyself?” Adam said: “I have never seen such an one.” Eblis asked: “Hast thou ever conceived of such an one?” Adam answered: “Except in dreams I have never conceived of such an one.” Eblis then answered: “Disregard dreams. They proceed from superfluity of meat. Stretch out thy hand upon the world which thou hast made and take possession.” So Adam took possession of the mountains which he had levelled and of the rivers which he had diverted and of the upper and lower Fires which he had made to speak and to work for him, and he named them as possessions for himself and his children for ever. After this, Eblis asked: “O, my Upholder and Crown of my Belief, who has given thee these profitable things?” Adam said: “By my Hand and my Head, I alone have given myself these things.” Eblis said: “Praise we the Giver!” So, then, Adam praised himself in a loud voice, and built an Altar and a Mirror behind the Altar; and he ceased not to adore himself in the Mirror, and to extol himself daily before the Altar, by the name and under the attributes of the Almighty.

The historians assert that on such occasions it was the custom of the Peacock to expand his tail and stand beside our First Substitute and to minister to him with flatteries and adorations.

After yet another hundred years, the Omnipotent Whose Name be exalted, put a bitter remorse into the bosom of the Peacock, and that bird closed his tail and wept upon the mountains of Serendib. Then said the Excellent and Faithful Archangel Jibrail: “How has the Vengeance overtaken thee, O thou least desirable of fowl?” The Peacock said: “Though I myself would by no means consent to convey Eblis into the Garden of the Tree, yet as is known to thee and to the All Seeing, I referred him to the Serpent for a subtle device, by whose malice and beneath whose tongue did Eblis secretly enter that Garden. Wherefore did Allah change my attuned voice to a harsh cry and my beauteous legs to unseemly legs, and hurled me into the district of Kabul the Stony. Now I fear that He will also deprive me of my tail, which is the ornament of my days and the delight of my eye. For that cause and in that fear I am penitent, O Servant of God.” Jibrail then said: “Penitence lies not in confession, but in restitution and visible amendment.” The Peacock said: “Enlighten me in that path and prove my sincerity.” Jibrail said: “I am troubled on account of Adam who, through the impure magic of Eblis, has departed from humility, and worships himself daily at an Altar and before a Mirror, in such and such a manner.” The Peacock said: “O Courier of the Thrones, hast thou taken counsel of the Lady Eve?” Jibrail asked: “For what reason?” The Peacock said: “For the reason that when the Decree of Expulsion was issued against those two, it was said: ‘Get ye down, the one of you an enemy unto the other,’ and this is a sure word.” Jibrail answered: “What will that profit?” The Peacock said: “Let us exchange our shapes for a time and I will show thee that profit.”

Jibrail then exacted an oath from the Peacock that he would return him his shape at the expiration of a certain time without dishonour or fraud, and the exchange was effected, and Jibrail retired himself into the shape of the Peacock, and the Peacock lifted himself into the illustrious similitude of Jibrail and came to our Lady Eve and said: “Who is God?” The Lady Eve answered him: “His name is Adam.” The Peacock said: “How is he God?” The Lady Eve answered: “For that he knows both Good and Evil.” The Peacock asked: “By what means attained he to that knowledge?” The Lady Eve answered: “Of a truth it was I who brought it to him between my hands from off a Tree in the Garden.” The Peacock said: “The greater then thy modesty and thy meekness, O my Lady Eve,” and he removed himself from her presence, and came again to Jibrail a little before the time of the evening prayer. He said to that excellent and trusty one: “Continue, I pray, to serve in my shape at the time of the Worship at the Altar.” So Jibrail consented and preened himself and spread his tail and pecked between his claws, after the manner of created Peacocks, before the Altar until the entrance of our pure Forefather and his august consort. Then he perceived by observation that when Adam kneeled at the Mirror to adore himself the Lady Eve abode unwillingly, and in time she asked: “Have I then no part in this worship?” Adam answered: “A great and a redoubtable part hast thou, O my Lady, which is to praise and worship me constantly.” The Lady Eve said: “But I weary of this worship. Except thou build me an Altar and make a Mirror to me also I will in no wise be present at this worship, nor in thy bed.” And she withdrew her presence. Adam then said to Jibrail whom he esteemed to be the Peacock: “What shall we do? If I build not an Altar, the Woman who walks by my side will be a reproach to me by day and a penance by night, and peace will depart from the earth.” Jibrail answered, in the voice of the Peacock: “For the sake of Peace on earth build her also an Altar.” So they built an Altar with a Mirror in all respects conformable to the Altar which Adam had made, and Adam made proclamation from the ends of the earth to the ends of the earth that there were now two Gods upon earth—the one Man, and the other Woman.

Then came the Peacock in the likeness of Jibrail to the Lady Eve and said: “O Lady of Light, why is thy Altar upon the left hand and the Altar of my Lord upon the right?” The Lady Eve said: “It is a remediable error,” and she remedied it with her own hands, and our pure Forefather fell into a great anger. Then entered Jibrail in the likeness of the Peacock and said to Adam: “O my Lord and Very Interpreter, what has vexed thee?” Adam said: “What shall we do? The Woman who sleeps in my bosom has changed the honourable places of the Altars, and if I suffer not the change she will weary me by night and day, and there will be no refreshment upon earth.” Jibrail said, speaking in the voice of the Peacock: “For the sake of refreshment suffer the change.” So they worshipped at the changed Altars, the Altar to the Woman upon the right, and to the Man upon the left.

Then came the Peacock, in the similitude of Jibrail the Trusty One, to our Lady Eve and said: “O Incomparable and All-Creating, art thou by chance the mother of Quabil and Habil (Cain and Abel)?” The Lady Eve answered: “By no chance but by the immutable ordinance of Nature am I their Mother.” The Peacock said, in the voice of Jibrail: “Will they become such as Adam?” The Lady Eve answered: “Of a surety, and many more also.” The Peacock, as Jibrail, said: “O Lady of Abundance, enlighten me now which is the greater, the mother or the child?” The Lady Eve answered: “Of a surety, the mother.” The disguised Peacock then said: “O my Lady, seeing that from thee alone proceed all the generations of Man who calls himself God, what need of any Altar to Man?” The Lady Eve answered: “It is an error. Doubt not it shall be rectified,” and at the time of the Worship she smote down the left-hand Altar. Adam said: “Why is this, O my Lady and my Co-equal?” The Lady Eve answered: “Because it has been revealed that in Me is all excellence and increase, splendour, terror, and power. Bow down and worship.” Adam answered: “O my Lady, but thou art Eve my mate and no sort of goddess whatever. This have I known from the beginning. Only for Peace’ sake I suffered thee to build an Altar to thyself.” The Lady Eve answered: “O my Lord, but thou art Adam my mate, and by many universes removed from any sort of Godhead, and this have I known from the first. Nor for the sake of any peace whatever will I cease to proclaim it.” She then proclaimed it aloud, and they reproached each other and disputed and betrayed their thoughts and their inmost knowledges until the Peacock lifted himself in haste from their presence and came to Jibrail and said: “Let us return each to his own shape; for Enlightenment is at hand.”

So restitution was made without fraud or dishonour and they returned to the temple each in his proper shape with his attributes, and listened to the end of that conversation between the First Substitute and his august Consort who ceased not to reprehend each other upon all matters within their observation and their experience and their imagination.