Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-02-06
Continued From Yesterdays star.l
INSTALLNfENT XXI.

~ OD are changing the very
~ NJ standards of men on which
you are at the same time
Il calculating How will you
control them when you find
their whole reckoning of values is al
tered? When everybody's skeleton Is
out, you can't frighten anybody BY
turning searchlight on his! In q
world full of disgraced men you can't
COW a man by threat of disgrace
You'll lose your power. You can't ruin
man by taking away his wealth in a
world where all values are shaken
Mems very motives are changing; theil
incentives are different!"
He considered this for an instant
Then he smiled slowly.
"Oh, no, Phyl." he said. when
their incentives changa they'll be al
ready in Nirvana. Until the anestheti:
takes effect, the senses will continue to
be the five little gods to whom man
makes his prayers! My body fits in the
world I find myself inland what fits
together was meant to go together. I'll
worry about my soul when get where
need one! I'm for the little old earth,
and the earth is for mel The Vicarion
has proved that action is the significant
thing in life-and the whole world is
recognizing It'll"
u TITS proving that action is what re-
mains after all that made it significant
Is gone!" cried Phyllis. 1.-THE Vicarion
shows what man has done, but 1t
doesn't show the man. A partial view
of anything is a warped view-most of
all of human being! You can't COM
pute a man by his past actions, because
things like aspirations and ideals and
remorse can't be translated into terms
of action. You once said that life
might be beautiful If we could see it all
transparent--but you show us only bits
You compared the Vicarion's records
to memory-but memory contains all a
mans record! There is where his life
is-in the composite of all his records.
That is forever beyond you. This
liquid life is no elixir-it's froth!"
He stared at her. Then he laughed
again. Bravo, Phyl! / had no idea
you had it in you After it's all over,
why don't you go on a lecture tour
through Nirvana!"
The quip delighted him. Then he
grimaced. ''You are saying that all
drama is an empty thing. It Is axio-
matte that action is the essence of
drama
THE essence of drama is the thing
with which you, the onlooker, endow
the action!"
'"Then you jstify liquid life at a
BREATH"
mot as substitute for livingi"
His eyes suddenly grew hard. THE
human race always lives on some sub
stitute for life-and crowns the man
king who furnishes it"
He turned away from her without
excuse or apology. She stood still and
let him go. OF sudden all those
ideas which she had thought of as con-
victions were shaken. After all, was
not vicarious living part of life itself?
What was this stuff of the reformer"
. In her-a mere urge to tilt at some
thing? A coward trait that merely re-
. fused to live and let live life as it is,
fads, foilbles, fancies, frenZies and dis
asters! If it were lived, one life would
be enough for one woman! Why play
anybody else's cards?
She was standing beside small door.
Through it abruptly she seemed to hear
her mothers voice Curious! She tried
the knob, only half realizing what she
did. The door opened and she stepped
into small room in which she found
herself almost upon her mother and
John.
1t was an echo of her own thought
she heard and it held her SPELL
bound.
Don't try to live my life for me,
mother" John was saying, smiling In
diligently, but with determined young
lips.
It don't want to, son." said her
mother. But I can't help 1t. in a
way. whether you know it or not I've
been watching my own old mother,
lately. as she used to live mine. It's
q way mothers have had, guess, since
before the Vicarion."
She smiled and stroked his cheek.
But he moved restively away from her
hand. His gesture went through
Phyllis like knife; it would hurt her
mother so!
well, then" he answered her, "get
take 1t out of them" And he laughed
and moved away.
In moment he was gone, and Mrs.
Norman turned, her face working with
pain Phyllis started forward.
"Mother!'
But her mother did not seem to hear.
She covered her face and sobbed.
"Mother" cried Phyllis, and ran for
ward to clasp the weeping woman in
her arms.
But her outstretched hands clasped-
nothing No one was there! Color
and form and scent and sound and
warmth and the very stir of sobbing
breath! But no substance! Empti-
ness! Where her very heart-strings
had reached out to enfold being in
finitely dear she found blank!
She staggered back. With fright
full sense that reality itself had failed,
she still watched and heard the Sob
bling, sobbing Of that figure that was not
therel
But presently the scene which she
had taken for real dissolved and went
out. And Phyllis knew that she had
tried to participate in action of yester-
day Past action-as lifeless as the
discarded costumes of an old play!
Husks-that had once contained life
love, wisdom, power-in the moment
when that past was now. Dead in the
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