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is no knowing where he may not take them。 Besides； they have staked
their money on the wrong men so often without suspecting it； that
when there comes one whom they do suspect it would be madness not to
bet against him。 True； he may die before he has out…screamed his
opponents； but that has nothing to do with it。 If his scream was
well pitched it will sound clearer when he is dead。 We do not know
what death is。 If we know so little about life which we have
experienced； how shall we know about death which we have notand in
the nature of things never can？ Every one； as I said years ago in
〃Alps and Sanctuaries；〃 is an immortal to himself； for he cannot
know that he is dead until he is dead； and when dead how can he know
anything about anything？ All we know is； that even the humblest
dead may live long after all trace of the body has disappeared； we
see them doing it in the bodies and memories of those that come
after them； and not a few live so much longer and more effectually
than is desirable； that it has been necessary to get rid of them by
Act of Parliament。 It is love that alone gives life； and the truest
life is that which we live not in ourselves but vicariously in
others； and with which we have no concern。 Our concern is so to
order ourselves that we may be of the number of them that enter into
lifealthough we know it not。
AEschylus did so order himself； but his life is not of that
inspiriting kind that can be won through fighting the good fight
onlyor being believed to have fought it。 His voice is the echo of
a drone； drone…begotten and drone…sustained。 It is not a tone that
a man must utter or dienay； even though he die； and likely enough
half the allusions and hard passages in AEschylus of which we can
make neither head nor tail are in reality only puffs of some of the
literary leaders of his time。
The lady above referred to told me more about her parrots。 She was
like a Nasmyth's hammer going slowvery gentle； but irresistible。
She always read the newspaper to them。 What was the use of having a
newspaper if one did not read it to one's parrots？
〃And have you divined；〃 I asked； 〃to which side they incline in
politics？〃
〃They do not like Mr。 Gladstone；〃 was the somewhat freezing answer；
〃this is the only point on which we disagree； for I adore him。
Don't ask more about this； it is a great grief to me。 I tell them
everything；〃 she continued； 〃and hide no secret from them。〃
〃But can any parrot be trusted to keep a secret？〃
〃Mine can。〃
〃And on Sundays do you give them the same course of reading as on a
week…day； or do you make a difference？〃
〃On Sundays I always read them a genealogical chapter from the Old
or New Testament； for I can thus introduce their names without
profanity。 I always keep tea by me in case they should ask for it
in the night； and I have an Etna to warm it for them； they take milk
and sugar。 The old white…headed clergyman came to see them last
night； it was very painful； for Jocko reminded him so strongly of
his late 。 。 。 〃
I thought she was going to say 〃wife；〃 but it proved to have been
only of a parrot that he had once known and loved。
One evening she was in difficulties about the quarantine； which was
enforced that year on the Italian frontier。 The local doctor had
gone down that morning to see the Italian doctor and arrange some
details。 〃Then； perhaps； my dear；〃 she said to her husband； 〃he is
the quarantine。〃 〃No； my love；〃 replied her husband。 〃The
quarantine is not a person； it is a place where they put people〃；
but she would not be comforted； and suspected the quarantine as an
enemy that might at any moment pounce out upon her and her parrots。
So a lady told me once that she had been in like trouble about the
anthem。 She read in her prayer…book that in choirs and places where
they sing 〃here followeth the anthem；〃 yet the person with this most
mysteriously sounding name never did follow。 They had a choir； and
no one could say the church was not a place where they sang； for
they did singboth chants and hymns。 Why； then； this persistent
slackness on the part of the anthem； who at this juncture should
follow her papa； the rector； into the reading…desk？ No doubt he
would come some day； and then what would he be like？ Fair or dark？
Tall or short？ Would he be bald and wear spectacles like papa； or
would he be young and good…looking？ Anyhow； there was something
wrong； for it was announced that he would follow； and he never did
follow； therefore there was no knowing what he might not do next。
I heard of the parrots a year or two later as giving lessons in
Italian to an English maid。 I do not know what their terms were。
Alas！ since then both they and their mistress have joined the
majority。 When the poor lady felt her end was near she desired （and
the responsibility for this must rest with her； not me） that the
birds might be destroyed； as fearing that they might come to be
neglected； and knowing that they could never be loved again as she
had loved them。 On being told that all was over； she said； 〃Thank
you；〃 and immediately expired。
Reflecting in such random fashion； and strolling with no greater
method； I worked my way back through Cheapside and found myself once
more in front of Sweeting's window。 Again the turtles attracted me。
They were alive； and so far at any rate they agreed with me。 Nay；
they had eyes； mouths； legs； if not arms； and feet； so there was
much in which we were both of a mind； but surely they must be
mistaken in arming themselves so very heavily。 Any creature on
getting what the turtle aimed at would overreach itself and be
landed not in safety but annihilation。 It should have no communion
with the outside world at all； for death could creep in wherever the
creature could creep out； and it must creep out somewhere if it was
to hook on to outside things。 What death can be more absolute than
such absolute isolation？ Perfect death； indeed； if it were
attainable （which it is not）； is as near perfect security as we can
reach； but it is not the kind of security aimed at by any animal
that is at the pains of defending itself。 For such want to have
things both ways； desiring the livingness of life without its
perils； and the safety of death without its deadness； and some of us
do actually get this for a considerable time； but we do not get it
by plating ourselves with armour as the turtle does。 We tried this
in the Middle Ages； and no longer mock ourselves with the weight of
armour that our forefathers carried in battle。 Indeed the more
deadly the weapons of attack become the more we go into the fight
slug…wise。
Slugs have ridden their contempt for defensive armour as much to
death as the turtles their pursuit of it。 They have hardly more
than skin enough to hold themselves together； they court death every
time they cross the road。 Yet death comes not to them more than to
the turtle； whose defences are so great that there is little left
inside to be defended。 Moreover； the slugs fare best in the long
run； for turtles are dying out； while slugs are not； and there must
be millions of slugs all the world over for ev