Giants

I, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me

not to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my

companions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use

them according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me

in many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of

suggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture

and bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.

It is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages

of the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the

book before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of

the mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the

wand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that

the power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes

strange shapes. As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the

moment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually

luminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and

falling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a

spiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable

old man.

I cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange

visitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain

to me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.

From the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent

gradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the

aspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear

idea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell

towards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism

under Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes,

currents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before

the steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger

influence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel,

utterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion.

Yet I felt my sensations in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the

sense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within

me, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element

which had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and

addressed me:—

“Young man, I am the guardian of Nature’s chief secrets,” it said,

replying to the unasked question on my lip. “Men call me Knowledge, but

my name is Science. What dost thou want with me?”

I found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were

uttered.

“Let me behold some of Nature’s secrets,” I cried eagerly.

“Thou art a bold mortal.”

“I am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book,

I would soar and know.”

“Of course,” replied the voice. “Although I come to thee in fairy form

and guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word

that did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand

within thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of

the future, follow me.”

I had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway

into the silent night, under the whispering trees beyond the city,

across the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with

the waves of the gulf thundering at its base.

“All human knowledge commences in dreams,” he said in a low tone.

“Trance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint

bridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.”

I obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed,

the pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous

circumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining

atmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty

pervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound

with a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had

yielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a

bird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this

space a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains,

trees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting

clouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I

saw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.

“Enter, and beware of Fear,” cried the voice at my side. At the sound

the ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort

of languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.

Downward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a

terrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many

miles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was

abruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which

was guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and

threatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they

fell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we

passed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude

astounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I

beheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy

tale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened

from a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and

indistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous

shapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of

speech.

“Who is yonder fellow,” I asked, “seated astride the trident rock? What

huge limbs he has!”

“That is young Australia,” replied the voice. “The ages have cradled

him. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the

infant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,” rejoined the

voice.

“What is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the

gigantic head?” I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just

awakened from a long nap.

“Electricity. It is a name but little known as yet,” replied the sage,

“but your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You

see the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.”

“Why do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?”

“Because the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not

come,” answered the voice gravely. “Powers wrested from Nature for the

benefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent.

A Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the

defensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance ’tis well the giant

sleeps.”

“There is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I

have often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?”

“He is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,” replied the

voice in answer. “Truly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and

god-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark

what an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off

future, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on

the face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.” A faint smile

passed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.

“One question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who

seems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?”

“Ah, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is

Enterprise,” added the voice proudly. “Up and doing, early and late,

ever active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has

promised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the

earth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these

slumbering giants.”

The voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking

ears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following

choice sentence:—

“Mr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I’m a widder with five innercent

children to keep, and can’t afford to let you fall asleep and burn

every drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing

included! There now!”