"But I didn't —I couldn't
visualize it."
She closed her eyes and shrank back, but I went on steadily: "So
you see this is not—to us—wholly a horror; it is just more horrible
than other wars on account of the infamous behavior of some
combatants, and because we really are beginning to be civilized.
Now this pain that you see is no greater than the same pain all the
way back in history—always. And you are not being miserable about
that, surely?"
No, she admitted, she wasn't.
"Very well," I hurried on, "we, the human race, outside of
Herland, have been fighting one another for all the ages, and we
are here yet; some of these military enthusiasts say because of war
—some of the pacifists say in spite of it, and I'm beginning to
agree with them. With you, Ellador, through you, and because of
you, and because of seeing what human life can be, in your blessed
country, I see things as I never did before. I'm growing."
She smiled a little at that, and took my hand again.
"You are the most important ambassador that ever was," I
continued. "You are sent from your upland island, your little
hidden heaven, to see our poor blind bleeding world and carry news
of it to your people. Perhaps that vast storehouse of mother-love
can help to set us straight at last. And you can't afford to feel
our sorrow—you'd die of it. You must think—and talk it off,
remorselessly, to me."
"You Amazing Darling!" she answered at last, drawing a deep
breath. "You are right—wholly right. I'm afraid I have—a
little—underrated your wisdom. Forgive me!"
I forgave her fast enough, though I knew it was an impossible
offence, and she began to free her mind.
"First as to Christianity," she said. "That gave me great
hopes—at first. Not the mythology of course, but the spirit; and
when that missionary man enlarged on the spread of Christianity and
its countless benefits I began to feel that here was a lovely thing
it would do us good to know about— something very close to
Motherhood."
"Motherhood," always revently spoken, was the highest, holiest
word they knew in Herland.
"But as I've read and talked and studied all these weeks, I do
not find that Christianity has done one thing to stop war, or that
Christian countries fight any less than heathen ones—rather more.
Also they fight amoung themselves. Christianity has not brought
peace on earth—not at all."
"No," I admitted, "it hasn't, but it tries to—ameliorate, to
heal and save."
"That seems to me simply—foolish," she answered. "If there is a
house on fire, the only true way to check the destruction is to put
the fire out. To sit about trying to heal burned skin and repair
burned furniture is—foolish."
"Especially when the repaired furniture serves as additional
fuel for more fire," I added.
"You see it !" she exclaimed joyfully. "Then why don't
you—but, I see—you are only one. You alone cannot change it."
"Oh no, I'm not alone in that," I answered cheerfully. "There
are plenty more who see it."
"Then why—" she began, but checked herself, and paused a little,
continuing slowly. "What I wish to get off my mind is this
spectacle of measureless suffering which human beings are
deliberately inflicting on one another. It would be hard enough to
bear if the pain was unavoidable—that would be pure horror, and the
eager rush to help. But here there is not only horror but a furious
scorn—because they do not have to have it at all."
"You're qute right, my dear," I agreed. "But how are you going
to make them stop?"
"That's what I have to find out," she answered gravely. "I wish
Mother was here—and all the Over-Mothers. They would find a way.
There must be a way. And you are right—I must not let myself be
overcome by this—"
"Put it this way," I suggested. "Even if three quarters of the
world should be killed there would be plenty left to refill, as
promptly as would be wise. You remember how quickly your country
filled up?"
"Yes," she said. "And I must remember that it is the
race-progress that counts, not just being alive."
Then, wringing her hands in sudden bitterness, she added: "But
this stops all progress! It is not merely that people are being
killed. Half the world might die in an earthquake and not do this
harm! It is the Hating I mind more than the killing—the perversion
of human faculty.
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