came to her assistance and they succeeded in making Damia swallow a few
drops. The old woman opened her eyes, smacking her tongue feebly; but
she took the cup into her own hand to hold it to her lips; and though she
trembled so that half the contents were spilt, she drank eagerly till it
was quite empty. "More," she gasped with the eagerness of intense
thirst, "more--I want drink !"

Gorgo gave her a second and a third draught which Damia drank with equal
eagerness; then, with a deep breath, she looked up fully conscious, at
her granddaughter.

"Thank you, child," she said. "Now I shall do very well for a little
while. The material world and all that belongs to it weighs us down and
clings to us like iron fetters. We may long and strive to be free, but
it pursues us and holds us fast. Only those who are content with their
miserable humanity can enjoy it. They laugh, as you know, at Praxilla,
the poetess, because she makes the dying Adonis lament, when face to face
with death, that he is forced to leave the apples and pears behind him.
But is not that subtly true? Yes, yes; Praxilla is right! We fast, we
mortify ourselves--I have felt it all myself--to partake of divinity. We
almost perish of hunger and thirst, when we might be so happy if only we
would be satisfied with apples and pears! No man has ever yet succeeded
in the great effort; those who would be truly happy must be content with
small things. That is what makes children so happy. Apples and pears!
Well, everything will be at an end for me ere long--even those. But if
the great First Cause spares himself in the universal crash, there is
still the grand idea of Apples and Pears; and who knows but that it may
please Him, when this world is destroyed, to frame another to come after
it. Will He then once more embody the ideas of Man--and Apples and
Pears? It would be plagiarism from himself. Nay, if He is merciful, He