"But now, my dear Arcade," concluded young d"Esparvieu, "you have lost your position, your situation, you are entirely without resource. You have lost caste, you are off the lines, a vagabond, a bare-footed wanderer."
The Angel replied bitterly that, after all, he was a little better clad at present than when he was wearing the slops of a suicide.
Maurice alleged in excuse that when he dressed his naked angel in a suicide"s slops, he was irritated with that angel"s infidelity. But it was useless to dwell on the past or to recriminate. What was really needful was to consider what steps to take in future.
And he asked:
"Arcade, what do you think of doing?"
"Have I not already told you, Maurice? To fight with Him who reigns in the heavens, dethrone Him, and set up Satan in His stead."
"You will not do it. To begin with it is not the opportune moment.
Opinion is not with you. You will not be in the swim, as papa says.
Conservatism and authority are all the go nowadays. We like to be ruled, and the President of the Republic is going to parley with the Pope. Do not be obstinate, Arcade. You are not as bad as you say. At bottom you are like the rest of the world, you adore the good G.o.d."
"I thought I had already explained to you, Maurice, that He whom you consider G.o.d is actually but a demiurge. He is absolutely ignorant of the divine world above him, and in all good faith believes himself to be the true and only G.o.d. You will find in the _History of the Church_, by Monsignor d.u.c.h.esne--Vol. I, page 162--that this proud and narrow-minded demiurge is named Ialdabaoth. My child, so as not to ruffle your prejudices and to deal gently with your feelings in future, that is the name I shall give him. If it should happen that I should speak of him to you, I shall call him Ialdabaoth. I must leave you. Adieu."
"Stay----"
"I cannot."
"I shall not let you go thus. You have deprived me of my guardian angel.
It is for you to repair the injury you have caused me. Give me another one."
Arcade objected that it was difficult for him to satisfy such a demand.
That having quarrelled with the sovereign dispenser of guardian Spirits, he could obtain nothing from that quarter.
"My dear Maurice," he added, smiling, "ask for one yourself from Ialdabaoth."
"No,--no,--no," exclaimed Maurice. "You have taken away my guardian angel,--give him back to me."
"Alas! I cannot."
"Is it, Arcade, because you are a revolutionary that you cannot?"
"Yes."
"An enemy of G.o.d?"
"Yes."
"A Satanic spirit?"
"Yes."
"Well, then," exclaimed young Maurice, "I will be your guardian angel,--I will not leave you."
And Maurice d"Esparvieu took Arcade to have some oysters at P----"s.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE CONCLAVE
That day, convoked by Arcade and Zita, the rebellious angels met together on the banks of the Seine at La Jonchere, in a deserted and tumble-down entertainment-hall that Prince Istar had hired from a pot-house keeper called Barattan. Three hundred angels crowded together in the stalls and boxes. A table, an arm-chair, and a collection of small chairs were arranged on the stage, where hung the tattered remnants of a piece of rustic scenery. The walls, coloured in distemper with flowers and fruit, were cracked and stained with damp, and were crumbling away in flakes. The vulgar and poverty-stricken appearance of the place rendered the grandeur of the pa.s.sions exhibited therein all the more striking.
When Prince Istar asked the a.s.sembly to form its Committee, and first of all to elect a President, the name that was renowned throughout the world entered the minds of all present, but a religious respect sealed their lips; and after a moment"s silence, the absent Nectaire was elected by acclamation. Having been invited to take the chair between Zita and an angel of j.a.pan, Arcade immediately began as follows:
"Sons of Heaven! My comrades! You have freed yourselves from the bonds of celestial servitude--you have shaken off the thrall of him called Iahveh, but to whom we should here accord his veritable name of Ialdabaoth, for he is not the creator of the worlds, but merely an ignorant and barbarous demiurge, who having obtained possession of a minute portion of the Universe has therein sown suffering and death.
Sons of Heaven, tell me, I charge you, whether you will combat and destroy Ialdabaoth?"
All with one voice made answer:
"We will!"
And many speaking all together swore they would scale the mountain of Ialdabaoth, and hurl down the walls of jasper and porphyry, and plunge the tyrant of Heaven into eternal darkness.
But a voice of crystal pierced through the sullen murmur.
"Tremble, ye impious, sacrilegious madmen! The Lord hath already lifted his dread arm to smite you!"
It was a loyal angel who, with an impulse of faith and love, envying the glory of confessors and martyrs, jealous and eager, like his G.o.d himself, to emulate man in the beauty of sacrifice, had flung himself in the midst of the blasphemers, to brave them, to confound them, and to fall beneath their blows. The a.s.sembly turned upon him with furious unanimity. Those nearest to him overwhelmed him with blows. He continued to cry, in a clear, ringing voice, "Glory to G.o.d! Glory to G.o.d! Glory to G.o.d!"
A rebel seized him by the neck and strangled his praises of the Almighty in his throat. He was thrown to the ground, trampled underfoot. Prince Istar picked him up, took him by the wings between his fingers, then rising like a column of smoke, opened a ventilator, which no one else could have reached, and pa.s.sed the faithful angel through it. Order was immediately restored.
"Comrades," continued Arcade, "now that we have affirmed our stern resolve, we must examine the possible plans of campaign, and choose the best. You will therefore have to consider if we should attack the enemy in full force, or whether it were better, by a lengthy and a.s.siduous propaganda, to win the inhabitants of Heaven to our cause."
"War! War!" shouted the a.s.sembled host.
And it seemed as if one could hear the sound of trumpets and the rolling of drums.
Theophile, whom Prince Istar had dragged to the meeting, rose, pale and unstrung, and, speaking with emotion, said:
"Brethren, do not take ill what I am about to say; for it is the friendship I have for you that inspires me. I am but a poor musician.
But, believe me, all your plans will come to naught before the Divine Wisdom which has foreseen everything."
Theophile Belais sat down amid hisses. And Arcade continued:
"Ialdabaoth foresees everything. I do not contest it. He foresees everything, but in order to leave us our free will he acts towards us absolutely as if he foresaw nothing. Every instant he is surprised, disconcerted; the most probable events take him unawares. The obligation which he has undertaken, to reconcile with his prescience the liberty of both men and angels, throws him constantly into inextricable difficulties and terrible dilemmas. He never sees further than the end of his nose. He did not expect Adam"s disobedience, and so little did he antic.i.p.ate the wickedness of men that he repented having made them, and drowned them in the waters of the Flood, and all the animals as well, though he had no fault to find with the animals. For blindness he is only to be compared with Charles X, his favourite king. If we are prudent it will be easy to take him by surprise. I think that these observations will be calculated to rea.s.sure my brother."
Theophile made no reply. He loved G.o.d, but he was fearful of sharing the fate of the faithful angel.
One of the best-informed Spirits of the a.s.sembly, Mammon, was not altogether rea.s.sured by the remarks of his brother Arcade.
"Bethink you," said this Spirit, "Ialdabaoth has little general culture, but he is a soldier--to the marrow of his bones. The organisation of Paradise is a thoroughly military organisation. It is founded on hierarchy and discipline. Pa.s.sive obedience is imposed there as a fundamental law. The angels form an army. Compare this spot with the Elysian Fields which Virgil depicts for you. In the Elysian Fields reign liberty, reason, and wisdom. The happy shades hold converse together in the groves of myrtle. In the Heaven of Ialdabaoth there is no civil population. Everyone is enrolled, numbered, registered. It is a barracks and a field for manoeuvres. Remember that."