<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><span><span class="smcap">The Warp and the Woof of Things.</span></span> <span>XXXIII.</span></h2>
<p>At the dinner table the Angel told the Vicar the more striking of his
day's adventures.</p>
<p>"The strange thing," said the Angel, "is the readiness of you Human
Beings—the zest, with which you inflict pain. Those boys pelting me
this morning——"</p>
<p>"Seemed to enjoy it," said the Vicar. "I know."</p>
<p>"Yet they don't like pain," said the Angel.</p>
<p>"No," said the Vicar; "<i>they</i> don't like it."</p>
<p>"Then," said the Angel, "I saw some beautiful plants rising with a spike
of leaves, two this way and two that, and when I caressed one it caused
the most uncomfortable——"</p>
<p>"Stinging nettle!" said the Vicar.</p>
<p>"At any rate a new sort of pain. And another<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</SPAN></span> plant with a head like a
coronet, and richly decorated leaves, spiked and jagged——"</p>
<p>"A thistle, possibly."</p>
<p>"And in your garden, the beautiful, sweet-smelling plant——"</p>
<p>"The sweet briar," said the Vicar. "I remember."</p>
<p>"And that pink flower that sprang out of the box——"</p>
<p>"Out of the box?" said the Vicar.</p>
<p>"Last night," said the Angel, "that went climbing up the
curtains—— Flame!"</p>
<p>"Oh!—the matches and the candles! Yes," said the Vicar.</p>
<p>"Then the animals. A dog to-day behaved most disagreeably——. And these
boys, and the way in which people speak——. Everyone seems
anxious—willing at any rate—to give this Pain. Every one seems busy
giving pain——"</p>
<p>"Or avoiding it," said the Vicar, pushing his dinner away before him.
"Yes—of course. It's fighting everywhere. The whole living world is a
battle-field—the whole world. We are driven<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</SPAN></span> by Pain. Here. How it lies
on the surface! This Angel sees it in a day!"</p>
<p>"But why does everyone—everything—want to give pain?" asked the Angel.</p>
<p>"It is not so in the Angelic Land?" said the Vicar.</p>
<p>"No," said the Angel. "Why is it so here?"</p>
<p>The Vicar wiped his lips with his napkin slowly. "It <i>is</i> so," he said.
"Pain," said he still more slowly, "is the warp and the woof of this
life. Do you know," he said, after a pause, "it is almost impossible for
me to imagine ... a world without pain.... And yet, as you played this
morning——</p>
<p>"But this world is different. It is the very reverse of an Angelic
world. Indeed, a number of people—excellent religious people—have been
so impressed by the universality of pain that they think, after death,
things will be even worse for a great many of us. It seems to me an
excessive view. But it's a deep question. Almost beyond one's power of
discussion——"</p>
<p>And incontinently the Vicar plumped into an impromptu dissertation upon
"Necessity," how<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</SPAN></span> things were so because they were so, how one <i>had</i> to
do this and that. "Even our food," said the Vicar. "What?" said the
Angel. "Is not obtained without inflicting Pain," said the Vicar.</p>
<p>The Angel's face went so white that the Vicar checked himself suddenly.
Or he was just on the very verge of a concise explanation of the
antecedents of a leg of lamb. There was a pause.</p>
<p>"By-the-bye," said the Angel, suddenly. "Have you been pithed? Like the common people."</p>
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